Quod Erat Demonstrandum? For once in my life, I would say somebody dug too deep into what I was inferring in my poem. I was merely writing about an origin and a destination. I just tossed in the nonsensical math bit about point a meeting point b bla bla bla to demonstrate how ignorant the motivations for avoiding progress often are, at least in my observation of older people close to me. These people always try to sputter off mathematical or scientific facts that make absolutely no sense to support lofty claims of their own. so maybe you didn't dig too deep, you just didn't realize the portion discussing math was supposed to be another voice. as you can see, the speaker of the poem is having dialogue with someone else, there aren't always quotations because some of it is stream-of-conscience. As for my earlier comment about "discriminitive and narrow-minded?" a bit of irony on your own part, i was jokingly taking offense to your comment and you bit the bait.

I haven't said this before, but I really do like this piece. I wasn't being sarcastic when I gave it a ten. I think it's fantastic and definitely the best thing you've ever written. You're really beginning to mature as a writer, so keep it up. -10-

I've written while binged for upto a week and a half, demented and slightly psychotic with tricks of the eyes and voices that didn't exist-- But I didn't make something as bloated or warped in skewed thought and word as this. And there are those who tell me that meth is worse than alcohol on the mind? Liquored thoughts make paranoid meth delusions look like a walk in the park when it comes to functioning to the best of ones inebriated ability. Plus, I don't switch languages like changing clothes.. often and suddenly in the middle of where-ever. I'm limited to phrases or sayings-- and thats only french when it applies. I try to atleast attempt to make a senseless rant comprehensible... or give it a thin line to connect the fragmented mess I made together. But the above piece? Is long island saying it might be cool to write while wasted in stupor, starting simple and fragmenting like one who spouts random things to nothing in particular. Well, anyway, that covers everything that I just had to babble, so toodles sister ice 'n liquor, peace be the journey and calm be the islands of drunken hic-ups.

Good, then I accomplished 80% of what I set out to do-- The other 20% can be stuffed as mere technicality. Know that, to a jester, laughter is the stuff that does matter most. As is crushing ones enemies into pulp or at the least drawing their blood.. but thats something else all together.

when I wrote this I had had 3 long island ice teas, one glass of coffee flavoured liquor, a sleep-deprived 48 hours, and I don't even know how much beer. So I think that answers your question of what I was on. Good day

actually, I find that all quite funny. Now, if you don't mind, I'll go back to the things that matter

You know, only you can kiss my ass and make it sting, then leave me to wonder, at ungodly hours of the night, if your comment was a product of sarcasm, perverse amusement, simple mockery, or acting out your favorite "maturity" masquerade. Then I wonder why the hell I'd be thinking about it now when it's pointless, buried in the past, therefor dead, moot, and asking myself about it is anything but productive. Your a disease that remains present always, but only produce symptoms at random... like herpes.. or syphillis tolerant to penicillin. I think Sadaam tried to clone you in an evil plot to infect the world with you, leading to the earths social collapse by slowly, but surely, making people go insane. But the thing that irritates me the most is that though its you, such characteristics to me are at the least admirable in a sick sadistic sort of way.

Thanks Shin Shuu that is good advice i'll amend it a tad. Thanks again, Doug

BLOBBY BLOBBY BLOBBY!!!!!!! google s/e Mr Blobby.co.uk

Er.. sir, I feel you could be much more grotesque, odd yet ludicrous, even a bit more senseless than this. But I'm a shithead, a jester, a man with an ill-famed reputation. Perhaps I talk so much... do too many drugs, in over abundance and reckless abandon... finding comfort in my absent minded way of living.. Never-the-less, I still say: Mother fucker, you can do better, you fucking limp-dick over-educated bastage from the deepest dankest pit OF HELL!?!# Have a nice day.

Navel Beer (Pee spurts) by Mug Once I spilled beer in Ann (or Nancy) Wilson's Stupendous belly-fat. Man, I could hear the ocean In that filthy crease, and I beg your pardon, But it caused me immediately to become fully hardened (At the Olive Garden.) So she blew my gusset under the non-smoking table (As I imagined she was Mammy and I was Clark Gable,) Thinking later there'd be rimming and some reckless felching, Half aghast that schlitz and cellulite could cause such squelching.

Er.. sir, I feel you could be much more grotesque, odd yet ludicrous, even a bit senseless than this. But I'm a shithead, a jester, a man with a ill-famed reputation. Perhaps I talk so much... do too many drugs, in over abundance and reckless abandon... finding comfort in my absent minded way of living.. Never-the-less, I still say: Mother fucker, you can do better, you fucking limp-dick over-educated bastage from the deepest dankest pit OF HELL!?!#

As a Dr i do not recomend dis lifestile. Come and see me Later?

Sometimes you can be quite the class act. Maybe this should be included in some warped script for Good Will Hunting 2 (Will vs. the over-educated buffoon). I know the idea is utter crap, but it's Hollywood, and there are simple folk who have money to burn.. at the least, it would be amusing. (Where would we be with-out capitalism? Who the fuck knoes, and really who cares? Why ask the question if it's born from stupidity? er, cause one can.) Blarg.