What is it men in women do require?
The lineaments of gratified desire.
What is it women in men require?
The lineaments of gratified desire.

wm blake.

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And I will tell you of the wrestle which I had before God, before I received a remission of my sins. Behold, I went to hunt beasts in the forests;  

And my soul hungered;

and I kneeled down before my Maker,

and I cried unto him in mighty prayer

and supplication for mine own soul;

and all the day long did I cry unto him; yea, and when the night came I did still raise my voice high that it reached the heavens.

§  Enos, 1:2–4.

book of mormon...

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There is a Mormon running for President, I see. Running strong. An interesting simulacrum of a man, physically perfect, morally devoted,    a bit clunky and inhuman at times, but…well, that was just like my friend Cliff, who had 3 beautiful sons, an amazing (Non-Mormon, alas) wife, suffered a divorce, and killed himself last year by taking a knife to his throat.

simulacrum of a simulacrum, a dear man, my conscience...

He was a helluva party companion in the mideigthies, but then I lost touch, and he reappeared in the late 90’s as a Mormon…

Relgion for presidents? Hope they got faith in the E pluribus unum, all I gotta say, til I know more.

Those are my political views on who becomes my next President. The last one who impressed me was Obama, in bits and pieces, when he is not obviously being practical to the point of compromise. Which is needed, but never impressive.  FDR is impressive. Lincoln is impressive. Able to make an impression on a guy like me who needs his alpha male leader to be someone in , but not of, the pack.

I foresee a lot of  negotiation , between Mr . Obama and  the Pirate Wimmin  , the movement of chick power that flares and falls occasionally, but never fails to inspire.

 To picture him as a naked cabin boy is a pretty big ‘no no’.

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I suggested Dylan’s  “thunder on the mountain” for a theme for this lurching drunken off the top of the head movement, this Pirate wimmin thing.  But now , upon further reflection, I offer a Dylan song from the end of the 70’s,  “Where are you tonight: Journey through dark heat”.  Dylan went insane soon after, became a Fundamentalist Christian in the morning of America, the 1980’s.

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Well here are the lyrics…edited…

 
There’s a woman I long to touch and I miss her so much
But she’s drifting like a satellite

There’s a babe in the arms of a woman in a rage
And a longtime golden-haired stripper onstage
And she winds back the clock and she turns back the page
Of a book that no one can write
Oh, where are you tonight?

…………………………………………………………………………..

The truth was obscure, too profound and too pure
To live it you have to explode
In that last hour of need, we entirely agreed
Sacrifice was the code of the road

 There’s a million dreams gone, there’s a landscape being raped
As her beauty fades and I watch her undrape
I won’t but then again, maybe I might
Oh, if I could just find you tonight

 
If you don’t believe there’s a price for this sweet paradise
Remind me to show you the scars

There’s a new day at dawn and I’ve finally arrived
If I’m there in the morning, baby, you’ll know I’ve survived
I can’t believe it, I can’t believe I’m alive
But without you it just doesn’t seem right
Oh, where are you tonight?

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As for this 1980’s nostalgia, here I am graduating high school in 1985, sort of:

It was a time to chase Promise, and never catch her, til the end of the decade, a perfect 4.0 at a community college, ready for the State university, the fabled University of CT, a party school but also a place good learning could be pursued, if a fella only had the motivation.

I had the motive to party.

I partied with a big big mouth and was kicked out of bars continuously.

Always alone, a specter, a weird fleshy ghostchild  suffering anachronism, for..i had not yet all the world’s information at my fingertips (as I do presently)

nor any overarching paradigm to fit it into.

…………………………………………………………….

Tonight, the pirate wimmin paradigm is my latest.

So I wish to learn at the lovely feet of the unleashed wimmin.

Anything to help.

:  )

oh but now, that i am complete or a close approxixamation, comes

these words..

from the same late seventies..

 She wakes him up
Forty-eight hours later the sun is breaking
Near broken chains, mountain laurel and rolling rocks
She's begging to know what measures he now will be taking
He's pulling her down and she's clutching on to his long golden locks.
Gentlemen, he said I don't need your organization, I've shined your shoes
I've moved your mountains and marked your cards
But Eden is burning either brace yourself for elimination
Or else your hearts must have the courage for the changing of the guards.