i awoke this morning with wnyc on my weltron am/fm/8-track radio and british accents talking about the impending session in parliament with the murdochs.
i will not deny that i was looking forward to it even though i knew there would be no “new news” or revelations, but the pie attack on old rupert (you no-doubt heard by now), prompted me to tweet something for the first time in years, the opportunity occurring as my desktop was open to salon.com or something and twitter seems to be everywhere, you know…..
this is what i wrote;
“the assailant was taken into custardy”
sometimes, i think i’m a real hoot.
it made me want to leave twitter open on my desktop forever, allowing me to offer snappy and pithy remarks. that passed in a minute….and not a second too soon.
i watched the proceedings till half-past rebekah brooks, then i could take no more.
the day after sean hoare’s death, his name has disappeared from the headlines and the london police have deemed his death “non-suspicious.”
this is the same police force that lives in rupert murdoch’s pocket (seemingly) and whose two top men signed their resignations three days ago. the press, the police and the parliament all seem to have bottomed out there in the UK.
that might be the tragedy of the murdoch adventure.
dorothy kilgallen’s molecular components are sparking and fizzling at various avenues, here and there, now and then and no doubt close to the eighth-electro-plasma-ocean of the ninth dimension and might be saying “here we go again……”
but i digress……
my original aim was to go back to the UMBO box and pretty soon i’ll get there, i just know it.
at the moment, though, i have to acknowledge that i am writing from the frankenstein laptop at the pizza booth inside goodbye blue monday.
the computer returned to life, it’s operating system once again intact for no reason i can fathom, reminding me that there’s loads of amazingnesses everpresent wherever you go.
so it is here that i wander back to the umbo box, the thing i first wrote about in the 1970’s, probably when i was living in park slope back in the day before the day, if you get my meaning…….
this is an example of my waning “geezer-clout,”……..the……, “back in MY day, we use to kill the pizza ourselves and bake it in ovens we constructed out of dead chevrolets,” or some other suchness that seems otherworldly or just plain “who-gives-a-fuck?” to someone who never saw a desk phone, answering machine or PF Flyers.
i try like hell to avoid launching into such reveries.
it depresses me,….
the UMBO box….