She's a
real left-winger, cause she been down south and held babies in her arms. She said, "I could tell you stories that could make you cry. What about you?"
I said, "Me too. I could tell you a story that would make you cry."
And she sighed, "Ahh."
I said, "I want to be a singer like
Lou Reed."
"I like
Lou Reed," she said, sticking her tongue in my ear, "Let's go, let's sit, let's talk.
Politics goes so good with
beer. And while we're at it, baby, why don't you tell me one of your biggest fears?"
I said, "Losing my penis to a whore with disease." "Just kidding," I said, "losing my life to a whore with disease."
She said, "Excuse me, please?"
I said, "Losing my life to a whore with disease." I said, "Please."
Well, I'm a humble guy with healthy desire. Don't give me no shit because. I've been tired.
[youtube]6ve9P3AMbaA[/youtube]
A while back I posted a link to Camile Paglia dissing Judith Butler. When they were growing-up, Butler was a "timorous, mundane, anxious" "little brown mole", who confined herself to the pretentious french section of the library-- while Paglia was engaged in total assault on the culture by any means necessary, including rock and roll, dope, and fucking in the streets. Paglia doesn't like Butler's ivory-tower post-modernism and armchair feminism-- for the same reason the American Indian Movement don't like the Washington Redskins:
Judith Butler is no radical: She is one of the smoothest careerists and veteran conference hoppers in the entire American academic system. She shrewdly adapted to the prevailing chic orthodoxy and became a major player in the ruthless academic marketplace... while the aboriginal Warholites remain ostracized.
Conference hopping armchair feminist PZ Myers blogged a little eulogy for aboriginal warholite Lou Reed:
http://www.freezepage.com/1382942049VDBBUIHZEZ
Peezy said when he was 25 years old
There was nothin' happenin' at all
Every time he puts on a radio
There was nothin' goin' down at all, Not at all
Then one fine mornin' Peez puts on a New York station
You know, he don't believe what he heard at all
he started shakin' to that fine fine music
You know his life was saved by rock 'n' roll
Despite all the computations, you know you could just go out
And dance to the rock 'n' roll station
And baby it was alright
[youtube]PqBWi4lhqh8[/youtube]
I was born a poor, black child. I am not a bum, I'm a jerk. I once had wealth, power, and the love of a beautiful woman. Now I only have two things. My friends and my thermos. I remember the days sitting on the porch with my family singing and dancing, down in Mississippi...
"Grandma! Grandma! Look! Look at the radio! Turn it up! Turn it up! It's unbelievable! I've never heard music like this before! It speaks to me! Dad, this is unbelievable! Well if this is out there just think how much more is out there! This is the kind of music that tells me to go out there and be somebody!"
"You were left on our doorstep. But we raised you like you were one of us."
"Mother! You mean I'm going to stay this color?"
"I'd love you if you were the color of a baboon's ass."
"Let him go, mother. Son, now that you're going out into the world, there's something you should know. You see that? That's shit. And this: shinola. Now what town are you going to try for first?
"Well I thought I'd try to go to Morris, because that is where that radio program was coming from."
"Remember, the Lord loves a working man. And son, don't never, ever trust whitey. Don't you forget to grow up now. And if you catch it, see a doctor and get rid of it."
"Don't trust whitey. See a doctor and get rid of it. Got it."
http://ak1.ostkcdn.com/images/products/ ... 992903.JPG
http://i.imgur.com/FlHApVL.jpg
This is all mildly lulzy, Service Dog, but where are you going with all this?
Well-- like PZ Myers-- I was born pretty fucking far from being a Lou Reed kinda guy. I know all about college towns on the tundra, and being surrounded by podunk Lutherans.
And then, yeah, one day I heard some Velvet Underground-- I read about Warhol in a magazine-- I saw Midnight Cowboy-- and at least I knew there was such a thing as a Downtown New York Intellectual Art Sex Drug Scene. But it seemed as distant, unobtainable and unreal... as Dr. Strange's "Sanctum Sanctorum in Greenwich Village," in Marvel Comics.
But, time went by, Alan Ginsberg and Iggy Pop were my East Village neighbors, I kissed Lou Reed in a nightclub once, twice he jaywalked without looking and a cab I was riding-in almost killed him, I got so used to Lou and Laurie as fixtures at prestigious-but-mundane art events/ that (in my head) the wrinkly little Lou Reed in a rumpled suit with whimsically-patterned socks-- wasn't even the same person as the iconic image. Along the way, I became an Aboriginal Warholian. Snorting ketamine off a tranny's silicone tits is just another day at the office. :dance:
So, yeah, PZ-- you wanna pay tribute to Lou Reed for being "subversive", and say Lou's disembodied voice on the radio was your ally against your "conventional" high school principal, fine. Cool story bro, Keep telling yourself that. What ever it takes to convince yourself you don't suck. Gabba gabba hey, you're one of us. But do you realize what an incredibly low bar that is, Peez? That's like me saying I'll count you as 'on my side' if the flesh-eating dead rise from the earth. I don't begrudge you for not being urbane, or even for pretending you
are. But I do begrudge you believing your own
poser bullshit so much-- that you dare lecture =anybody= on casual sex, alternatives to the heteronormative-genderbinary, free thought, freeze peach, art, diversity, culture, ...fucking
life.
Did you ever actually "get a cheap Greyhound ticket and end up in a different kind of bus station in a big city on the other side of the continent", like you daydreamed about?
