corporate sex games, sex and social ineptness. oh, and suicide maybe..

ineptness first;
never mind. i’ll save that till later.

this past week was driven by change – general motors going terminal, david carradine deciding he had an appointment that he really had to keep, unless the universe or luck (good or bad) may have taken a hand in it.
oh, wait – i guess we are talking about ineptness.
i was saving the ineptness thing to be about me.
i gotta hit the thesaurus. i can see i’m going to be using words like this more than a few times in this writing.

i don’t think much else happened on the planet other than that.
general motors put the drapery cord around its own neck thirty-five years ago. the auto-asphyxiation game that they began to play started around then, at the first gas “crisis.”
absolutely no one should be surprised at this.
the american auto makers played with the drapery cord when they half-heartedly threw tinny, inefficient, smaller cars on the road to compete with smarter, better-engineered cars from around the world;
they even went to bed, bath and beyond to buy bigger, more ornate sashes to wrap around their own necks with the the undexterous, maladroit SUV.
oil was now being syphoned out of the planet like chocolate milk from a kids crazy straw.
…and of course, that’s when GM thought it was the perfect time to buy HUMMER.
that must’ve been when they decided to wrap the drapery cord around their balls, like they found that other guy.
i mean….the name alone.
corporate circle-jerks in highest echelons and fanciest offices.
life is hilarious.

when i was at scrap bar, i made friends with some of the local police as well as some “healthcare professionals” who worked at st. vincent’s a few blocks away and every now and again, i’d become privy to stories of strange deaths.
one was an elderly man who was found trussed up/hung, masked, anally-propped (for want of better words), wearing a some sort of mask full of super-finely processed cocaine…
i mean, all sorts of stuff.
there was an extraordinary film called “the ruling class” that might have influenced his art.
pay careful attention to the first 5 seconds of the trailer.

he had died just like that and wasn’t discovered for days. apparently they police were called because of the putridity in the air
and that’s ok. that was his business and his choice.

i can’t help but imagine american businessmen, particularly those in the auto industry, had veered far from reality as the these automobiles got bigger and stupider, almost mirriring the corporate greed around it and we looked and said “great. can i get those little windshield wipers on the headlights like i saw on that saab or volvo a few weeks ago? U-S-A! U.S.A!”
and i distinctly recall a TV interview in the early bush presidency where he assured the american SUV populace that there was gas-enough for the needs of the american, big-car-buying public, so buy those cars. everything’ll be fine.
this was probably at the dawn of the middle-east land-grab disguised as liberation.
so five years ago, when oldsmobile went the way of the rambler, de soto and kaiser, my hackles tingled and i said to myself “duly noted.”
so like that guy my friend told me about in the ’80’s or that movie from the seventies or mister carradine last week, general motors as i’ve known it, has ceased to be, but already they’ve begun a press campaign announcing it’s resurrection.
wait for the new “phoenix” – there’s gotta be a car called the phoenix. i think there used to be a pontiac station wagon from the fifties with that monicker.
it might run on 30 percent less bullshit than previous GM brands.

that’s ok – 70% bullshit is plenty.

unfortunately, all the repackaging in the world isn’t bringing old grasshopper” back, but he’s been looking to travel out for a while, or so say the tabloids.
of course, he may have pissed off die-hard guthrie fans when he went on a drunk rant at a union-organizing Bound for Glory screening a few months back where he was scheduled speaker.

the conspiracy seekers are running amok.
maybe there was someone else and if there was, it most likely was a prostitute (yes, billy, there are prostitutes in bangkok) who was just doing her job (or her “john”) and if that’s the case, i pray for her continued anonymity, but then again, she might be missing her fifteen minutes.
but this is mere conjecture.
i’m chock-full of conjecture.
it’s out there, where “the eighth-electro-plasma-ocean of the ninth dimension” is awaiting the one who can walk on the rice paper and all like that there….

About stephen trimboli

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