Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Respectable Poverty

"To be young is all there is in the world. The rest is nonsense—and cant. They talk so beautifully about work and having a family and a home (and I do, too, sometimes)—but it's all worry and head-aches and respectable poverty and forced gushing . . . Telling people how nice it is, when, in reality, you would give all of your last thirty years for one of your first thirty. Old people are tremendous frauds." —Wallace Stevens

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

The Miracle of Life

"Here's another idea that should be punctured, the idea that childbirth is a miracle. I don't know who started this rumor but it's not a miracle. No more a miracle than eating food and a turd coming out of your butt. It's a chemical reaction and a biological reaction. You want to know a miracle? A miracle is raising a kid that doesn't talk in a fucking movie theater . . . I'll go you one further, and this is the routine that has virtually ended my career in America. If you have children here tonight--and I assume some of you do--I am sorry to tell you this. They are not special. I'll let that sink in. Don't get me wrong, folks. I know you think they're special. You think that. I'm telling you--they're not. Did you know that every time a guy comes, he comes 200 million sperm? Did you know that? And you mean to tell me you think your child is special? Because one out of 200 million sperm connected . . . that load? Gee, what are the fucking odds? Do you know what that means? I have wiped entire civilizations off of my chest, with a grey gym sock. That is special. Entire nations have flaked and crusted in the hair around my navel. That is special. And I want you to think about that, you two-egg-carrying beings out there with that holier-than-thou, we-have-the-gift-of-life attitude. I have tossed universes, in my underpants, while napping. That is special." - Bill Hicks

Thursday, September 02, 2010

Remnants

"Rock simply should not be played by fifty-five-year-old men with triple chins wearing bad wighats, pretending still to be excited about playing songs they wrote thirty or thirty-five years ago and have played some thousands of times since. Its prime audience should not be middle-aged, balding, jelly-bellied dads who've brought along their wives and kids. It should not be trapped behind glass in a museum display and gawked at like remnants of a lost civilization. That is not rock 'n' roll. Rock 'n' roll is not family entertainment." —John Strausbaugh, Rock Til You Drop