Wat’s Carbon Water-N-Stuff Thread - Concepts In Iron And Wood!!!

[Wat_Tyler]

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[Wat_Tyler]

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[Wat_Tyler]

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[Bigtitsbitch1000x]

Life Sentence​

By: David Lerner​

I am an angry man
no longer young
my dreams have been out
in all the weather

I used to
make up highway exits as I went along
and rattle my fever
at strangers

I am an angry man
no longer young
who turned out to be a genius after all
what a moron

sometimes I get so tired of
so many different things at once
I panic

I am an angry man
no longer young
the wire gets higher each day
and I know the gun is loaded

sentenced to the sky

preaching a desperate kind of arithmetic
which won't be gathered
until the clouds are full of hungry prisoners


The prisoners are starving because all they have had is Kool-Aid.


https://www.militarytimes.com/resizer/JzdEHJjd9ZW7ASsuspsGsvLyT8s=/1024x0/filters:format(jpg):quality(70)/cloudfront-us-east-1.images.arcpublishing.com/archetype/FTY4HFEFJRB7HFJJXPWKEXDGTE.jpg

Very interesting. I was the first publisher of David Lerner in San Francisco in the mid 1970s.

He appeared in a writers' group drawn mainly from the circles and disciples of these authors:

Penguin Modern Poets: C.Bukowski, P.Lamantia, H.Norse Bk. 13 https://a.co/d/f5rt6ZH

The three had status as "underground" authors. Bukowski and Lamantia originated on the West Coast and Norse in New York. The latter two were close to W.S. Burroughs.

( O O )

 

[Bigtitsbitch1000x]

[Pats on head] Yes, yes. We are all so very, very afraid of the wrath of Wat, the ammosexual blow-hard.

Feel better now? Now go feed your pussy cats, BadBoy.

Wat Tyler is a sardonic fellow with a sharp sense of irony. I and my Big Domme, who work productively in the film industry, would love to get to know Wat better.

We are happy that my delving into this fetid dump produced one useful human connection.

André Breton shot owls, and his great comrade Benjamin Péret stood on the firing line in the Spanish Revolution in the ranks of the anarchist militia.

Great writers of extreme sensivity and depth, living at the heights of culture, were and remain devoted owners and users of firearms. Ammosexuals.

Stay away from Sedona, Trash Panda.

WWPD? What would Pynchon do?

( O O )

 

[BAstoicguy]

Life Sentence​

By: David Lerner​

I am an angry man
no longer young
my dreams have been out
in all the weather

I used to
make up highway exits as I went along
and rattle my fever
at strangers

I am an angry man
no longer young
who turned out to be a genius after all
what a moron

sometimes I get so tired of
so many different things at once
I panic

I am an angry man
no longer young
the wire gets higher each day
and I know the gun is loaded

sentenced to the sky

preaching a desperate kind of arithmetic
which won't be gathered
until the clouds are full of hungry prisoners


The prisoners are starving because all they have had is Kool-Aid.


https://www.militarytimes.com/resizer/JzdEHJjd9ZW7ASsuspsGsvLyT8s=/1024x0/filters:format(jpg):quality(70)/cloudfront-us-east-1.images.arcpublishing.com/archetype/FTY4HFEFJRB7HFJJXPWKEXDGTE.jpg

I used to be such an angry young man. Then I became a soldier and a brute. A cop turned English professor challenged me with college when I challenged him with martial ability and hostility. I leaned to become an educated brute. Bunbi itchi. That is a lethal combination at any age. As the song's lament goes, "I wish I knew then what I know now."

 

[Wat_Tyler]

Very interesting. I was the first publisher of David Lerner in San Francisco in the mid 1970s.

He appeared in a writers' group drawn mainly from the circles and disciples of these authors:

Penguin Modern Poets: C.Bukowski, P.Lamantia, H.Norse Bk. 13 https://a.co/d/f5rt6ZH

The three had status as "underground" authors. Bukowski and Lamantia originated on the West Coast and Norse in New York. The latter two were close to W.S. Burroughs.

( O O )

My dreams, too, have been out in all the weather. My dreams are like some of these old cars I collect. Some were collected and left outside too long. They leaked rainwater in places and it collected, wearing off the paint and speeding the decay of the body. The old car people call it cancer, that kind of rust. It's hard to make a good one without making it from 2 or 3 carcasses. The dreams change. Two or three seem to combine. There are those which rusted away. Some sit and wait the craftsman's hand to pull to pieces, massages the bits, and reassemble them to be used and driven. Taking them to shows is optional.


I need another horse, too . . . .

 

[Wat_Tyler]

I used to be such an angry young man. Then I became a soldier and a brute. A cop turned English professor challenged me with college when I challenged him with martial ability and hostility. I leaned to become an educated brute. Bunbi itchi. That is a lethal combination at any age. As the song's lament goes, "I wish I knew then what I know now."

I went through a spell where I knew I was Bad News. So I thought.


When I learned what I didn't know then, as was told to me by a man who used to do collections for The Outfit in Chicago, I realized that I wasn't such Bad News after all.


I was more a Menace to Society.


However, I have continued to learn, and to practice . . . .

 

[BAstoicguy]

Shetland pony. They can be quite the "nag."

 

[BAstoicguy]

We remain mostly armed menaces to ourselves – very scary to others. I think that it is the lack of warning labels and shrink-wrap. We do not look fresh "out of the box." Mississippi half-stepping into the grave, ghosts of culture past, ignored and forgotten like history.

 

[Wat_Tyler]

We remain mostly armed menaces to ourselves – very scary to others. I think that it is the lack of warning labels and shrink-wrap. We do not look fresh "out of the box." Mississippi half-stepping into the grave, ghosts of culture past, ignored and forgotten like history.

I cunt agree more - menaces to ourselves who were just smart enough and paid close enough attention to survive. In Words of Iron, we were fortunate enough not to get ourselves killed. We just didn't charge enough machine gun nests. I'll leave the judgement of that tidbit to Allah, as he has seen more and is capable of making more reasoned and objective judgments.


Allah got too damned much for His Favorite to do to be callin' him home too damned soon.


After all, there are all these heathen libturds to outlive.

 

[Bigtitsbitch1000x]

My dreams, too, have been out in all the weather. My dreams are like some of these old cars I collect. Some were collected and left outside too long. They leaked rainwater in places and it collected, wearing off the paint and speeding the decay of the body. The old car people call it cancer, that kind of rust. It's hard to make a good one without making it from 2 or 3 carcasses. The dreams change. Two or three seem to combine. There are those which rusted away. Some sit and wait the craftsman's hand to pull to pieces, massages the bits, and reassemble them to be used and driven. Taking them to shows is optional.


I need another horse, too . . . .

You're a better writer than Hank Bukowski was. But i have very, very high standards.

Bukowski's main thing was The Rage of the Crushed Man. That is, what the 19th c French called "l'homme raté." Man crushed by urban, industrial nullity.

It went well with the mimeo press milieu of which he was the great representative.

( O O )

 

[Bigtitsbitch1000x]

I cunt agree more - menaces to ourselves who were just smart enough and paid close enough attention to survive. In Words of Iron, we were fortunate enough not to get ourselves killed. We just didn't charge enough machine gun nests. I'll leave the judgement of that tidbit to Allah, as he has seen more and is capable of making more reasoned and objective judgments.


Allah got too damned much for His Favorite to do to be callin' him home too damned soon.


After all, there are all these heathen libturds to outlive.

These were admirable at charging machine gun nests:

As to Allah and death, Islam holds that the hour is fixed. The Pen Is Dry. Only the judgement is open.

( O O )

 

[Wat_Tyler]

You're a better writer than Hank Bukowski was. But i have very, very high standards.

Bukowski's main thing was The Rage of the Crushed Man. That is, what the 19th c French called "l'homme raté." Man crushed by urban, industrial nullity.

It went well with the mimeo press milieu of which he was the great representative.

( O O )

I think I have learned a bit of your standards. Having read some of you/yours, I like your style and find it what I would call Imminently Readable. Thank you for the kind complement, too, about my abilities. I really do need to come up with a method for getting words to paper. Like Nike says . . . .


I think that Hank wanted to have low expectations, live like a pig and to get away with it. The Crushed Man thing is simply rationalization and justification for his pigletishness - I won't even give it status as full-blown piggishness. Besides, I may be insulting pigs. What I appreciate about him is that he wrote all his adult life and stuck with it. He may have taken poor care of his old car dreams, but he drove them regularly and at least changed the oil sometimes. He didn't leave them sit to rust.


Anger is the emotion of the younger man. It turns to bitterness in many - just look around here and listen to the tomfoolery. The judgmentalism is the big tipoff.


Getting over oneself is Priceless . . . . There is Hope.

 

[Bigtitsbitch1000x]

I went through a spell where I knew I was Bad News. So I thought.


When I learned what I didn't know then, as was told to me by a man who used to do collections for The Outfit in Chicago, I realized that I wasn't such Bad News after all.


I was more a Menace to Society.


However, I have continued to learn, and to practice . . . .

If we're talking Chitown we should be talking Norris, Farrell, Algren, Bellow, Wright.

( O O )

 

[Wat_Tyler]

If we're talking Chitown we should be talking Norris, Farrell, Algren, Bellow, Wright.

( O O )

That was the incidental but important guidance from a man called Bob. He was in Chicago when he was young and crazy. Last I heard, he lived near Denver. He may be dead by now. He was pushing 80 when I last saw him, and that was 10 years ago. He and his "crew" were an awful lot of help to people like me.


It's always about the rudder. First, is there one? Second, is it in the water? Third, is anyone manning the tiller? Fourth, is that person some kind of lunatic or idiot?


Allah steers better than I.

 

[Bigtitsbitch1000x]

I think I have learned a bit of your standards. Having read some of you/yours, I like your style and find it what I would call Imminently Readable. Thank you for the kind complement, too, about my abilities. I really do need to come up with a method for getting words to paper. Like Nike says . . . .


I think that Hank wanted to have low expectations, live like a pig and to get away with it. The Crushed Man thing is simply rationalization and justification for his pigletishness - I won't even give it status as full-blown piggishness. Besides, I may be insulting pigs. What I appreciate about him is that he wrote all his adult life and stuck with it. He may have taken poor care of his old car dreams, but he drove them regularly and at least changed the oil sometimes. He didn't leave them sit to rust.


Anger is the emotion of the younger man. It turns to bitterness in many - just look around here and listen to the tomfoolery. The judgmentalism is the big tipoff.


Getting over oneself is Priceless . . . . There is Hope.

"He wrote all his adult life and stuck with it" was the essence of the Beat Generation ethos.

Every straight young man today wants to be Kerouac but doesn't have a way to understand JK's contradictory spiritual path. Or how Kerouac, Ginsberg, and Gary Snyder all made significant geetus ŵorking in the U.S. Merchant Marine.

Imagine this load of poseurs working an icy deck in the North Pacific.

Whachu think of Our Gary?

Gary Snyder: Collected Poems (LOA #357) (Library of America, 357) https://a.co/d/dNKk43r

But about Hank? Anyone can take on the role. And every American writer loves The Track.

Hank drew from a gentleman with a curious past:

https://www.marxists.org/reference/archive/sartre/comment/celine.htm

This keeps coming up on my feed:

Cold Steel Brooklyn Smasher, Black, 34 Inch https://a.co/d/hD9KrgW

My son carries one at all times and next to his bed.

Like a cop, he doesn't want to compromise his FFL by hurried recourse to a firearm.

The libbypoos behind their privsec walls will never get that real serious ammosexuals are the most disciplined folk around. The clearest thinkers.

And how do Americans really feel about young Mangione's turn with The Ghost of Xmas Future or, The Feast of the False Messiah?

About writing, a lifelong career was false. For me.

( O O )

 

[Wat_Tyler]

"He wrote all his adult life and stuck with it" was the essence of the Beat Generation ethos.

Every straight young man today wants to be Kerouac but doesn't have a way to understand JK's contradictory spiritual path. Or how Kerouac, Ginsberg, and Gary Snyder all made significant geetus ŵorking in the U.S. Merchant Marine.

Imagine this load of poseurs working an icy deck in the North Pacific.

Whachu think of Our Gary?

Gary Snyder: Collected Poems (LOA #357) (Library of America, 357) https://a.co/d/dNKk43r

But about Hank? Anyone can take on the role. And every American writer loves The Track.

Hank drew from a gentleman with a curious past:

https://www.marxists.org/reference/archive/sartre/comment/celine.htm

This keeps coming up on my feed:

Cold Steel Brooklyn Smasher, Black, 34 Inch https://a.co/d/hD9KrgW

My son carries one at all times and next to his bed.

Like a cop, he doesn't want to compromise his FFL by hurried recourse to a firearm.

The libbypoos behind their privsec walls will never get that real serious ammosexuals are the most disciplined folk around. The clearest thinkers.

And how do Americans really feel about young Mangione's turn with The Ghost of Xmas Future or, The Feast of the False Messiah?

About writing, a lifelong career was false. For me.

( O O )

O'Neill shipped out in his youth/early adulthood. It took him forever to grow up. I've read his collected works, every fucking word. Lad could turn a phrase - touch of the poet, they called it. Iceman Cometh dissects dreams and dreamers and losers and quitters and drunks, hitting the nail of Fear square on its flat little head. Shipping out gives a lad time with his thoughts. If he takes notes, he might organize them into something. I think that Gene took some notes to refer to, but then I also think that people at the turn of the last century had some many fewer stimuli and were able to remember their experiences better. Maybe - just a theory. It's like the Bedouin tradition of story-telling and how they could remember what they heard and repeated it for decades.


Working on an icy deck? This Lot? This dreck? I cannot imagine them digging ditches, which is much more mundane. They consider it beneath them, and yet they don't have any idea, nor have the stamina. They depend on some deluded woman and the generosity of the welfare system for sustenance. Such as it is. I'd prefer they spend more time sucking automobile exhaust pipes, running cars only.


Orwell found he could rebel, and also write. I'm, shall we say, interested. Engaged . . . engaging . . . to be determined . . . .

 

[Wat_Tyler]

Making meth at home in a few easy steps:


http://img.tabi-labo.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/85singo_970664_408090085964688_1870506196_n.jpg

 

[Wat_Tyler]

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[Wat_Tyler]

https://d1w4q6ldc8l0qo.cloudfront.net/media/images/quotes/power-personal-sovereignty-quotes-52.jpg

 

[Wat_Tyler]

https://stoicquotes.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/04/8.png

 

[Bigtitsbitch1000x]

O'Neill shipped out in his youth/early adulthood. It took him forever to grow up. I've read his collected works, every fucking word. Lad could turn a phrase - touch of the poet, they called it. Iceman Cometh dissects dreams and dreamers and losers and quitters and drunks, hitting the nail of Fear square on its flat little head. Shipping out gives a lad time with his thoughts. If he takes notes, he might organize them into something. I think that Gene took some notes to refer to, but then I also think that people at the turn of the last century had some many fewer stimuli and were able to remember their experiences better. Maybe - just a theory. It's like the Bedouin tradition of story-telling and how they could remember what they heard and repeated it for decades.


Working on an icy deck? This Lot? This dreck? I cannot imagine them digging ditches, which is much more mundane. They consider it beneath them, and yet they don't have any idea, nor have the stamina. They depend on some deluded woman and the generosity of the welfare system for sustenance. Such as it is. I'd prefer they spend more time sucking automobile exhaust pipes, running cars only.


Orwell found he could rebel, and also write. I'm, shall we say, interested. Engaged . . . engaging . . . to be determined . . . .

Could add that one more than once assisted junior windbags in getting employment in railroad yards where they typically lasted no time at all.

RR yard is as wet and risky as a pier when fog's in.

I get irritable when i hear some kid proposing to ride a freight train..

The correct terms for many people who play with trains are ravioli and ice.

O'Neill was once understood as a role model to American authors.

Played by Mr. Nicholson beginning at 1:18 here.

Some horsies for my ops.

Here are the best horsies in the left canon, but they need plenty footnotes.

That my Big Domme is an equestrienne of the v serious Rocky Mtn girl variety is a source of great personal joy and inspiration to me on every level.

She and the third cis lady in our poly pod both had horsies named, of course, Misty.

Young girls and their books about horsies were a Thing once. Like Nancy Drew.

On the other side of my personal continent, the upper and outer side, i read Dana, Melville, London, O'Neill.

And shipped out.

Then did RR, and maritime journalism, before meeting Big Domme and suddenly needing to rent out my valuable intello booty.

From Railroad Neo-Syndicalism to Reagan Neo-Conservatism. RR2RR.

From this:

Quenvold's Safety Shoes https://g.co/kgs/aTM6SVs

To buying my lady a gold lamé dress and red glitter stilettoes with a pink patent leather jacket to visit Mr. President in the Big Wickiup.

I preferred another life. So does she.

Existence at the heights of power was inferior to life on a rundown tanker.

The Death Ship https://a.co/d/iS1GaCE

Now my adopted nephew is my adopted niece and ships out in the union.

Brotherhood of the Sea: A History of the Sailors' Union of the Pacific, 1885-1985 https://a.co/d/50qXi4i

https://youtu.be/Iy1XzgRlXD4?si=2c7Ql4EC1NCBLBDo

( O O )

 

[Brains_N_Boobs]

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[Wat_Tyler]

Could add that one more than once assisted junior windbags in getting employment in railroad yards where they typically lasted no time at all.

RR yard is as wet and risky as a pier when fog's in.

I get irritable when i hear some kid proposing to ride a freight train..

The correct terms for many people who play with trains are ravioli and ice.

O'Neill was once understood as a role model to American authors.

Played by Mr. Nicholson beginning at 1:18 here.

Some horsies for my ops.

Here are the best horsies in the left canon, but they need plenty footnotes.

That my Big Domme is an equestrienne of the v serious Rocky Mtn girl variety is a source of great personal joy and inspiration to me on every level.

She and the third cis lady in our poly pod both had horsies named, of course, Misty.

Young girls and their books about horsies were a Thing once. Like Nancy Drew.

On the other side of my personal continent, the upper and outer side, i read Dana, Melville, London, O'Neill.

And shipped out.

Then did RR, and maritime journalism, before meeting Big Domme and suddenly needing to rent out my valuable intello booty.

From Railroad Neo-Syndicalism to Reagan Neo-Conservatism. RR2RR.

From this:

Quenvold's Safety Shoes https://g.co/kgs/aTM6SVs

To buying my lady a gold lamé dress and red glitter stilettoes with a pink patent leather jacket to visit Mr. President in the Big Wickiup.

I preferred another life. So does she.

Existence at the heights of power was inferior to life on a rundown tanker.

The Death Ship https://a.co/d/iS1GaCE

Now my adopted nephew is my adopted niece and ships out in the union.

Brotherhood of the Sea: A History of the Sailors' Union of the Pacific, 1885-1985 https://a.co/d/50qXi4i

https://youtu.be/Iy1XzgRlXD4?si=2c7Ql4EC1NCBLBDo

( O O )

I think that I saw Reds three times in the theater during its first run through town. Probably for all of the wrong reasons. The politics didn't elude me but I was more drawn trying to figure out how to stay drunk a good bit of the time and manage to survive. I never quite was able to pull it off, and that's probably a chief contributor to my still breathing.


And there was no waterfront here and I didn't like the closest town that featured waterfront. And I didn't like very many people, either. Some days, I still don't. So, shipping out wasn't even on the radar once upon a time.


I guess that I had to do it all the way that I did it so I could live and tell about it. Best part is, I'm still paying attention. I'm getting better at it.