Re: RAT, The dramaturgy of...

[DennisLMo@aol.com]

yes. the six gun of reality in carlos'  holster. when nick does his offensive 
and beautiful rat poems.

is it possible to remember specific episodes on the television illusion, 
except if you are a buff, or a collector, let's say of the brady bunch kids 
or... the sophisticated hits and hit parade on the sopranos. i mean i find 
myself having an experience then it's a blank. sopranos turns inside out into 
art as a new (or old) capitalist parable where you like the people and it 
feels oh so existential and smart about itself. who's your therapist and 
prosaic, yeah i love the way it edits my moods. tv in the blood messing with 
sex. how big the big puppets are and michael(angelo) up there eyeballs bulged 
into the wet plaster ceiling with sky drumming in his ears. of course there 
are spiritual realms where the wall fall away. as in the theatre. we all hold 
hands there. right. which is why we write on duh list. maybe. i tink so. 
pretending to have ideas about things. then we do theatre for all the hunters 
and gathers who go half naked on the street listening to much.

art's a lovely jealous bitch who fucks with youse all. as in the theatre. 
can't even turn off and fuzz out with the simpsons. common nick. the bad 
muther fuckers in the theatre. how do we all sleep the sleep of the 
blissfully innocent now. sorry tv, it's all illusion any ways. and your 
archaic artform was slipped passed on the way to cyberspace's flattened 
thoughts.

the club in our hand as the seals blead and blead from their heads pooling 
blood on the ice flow. which i've never seen except on the archaic vice of 
tv. the big bad artists steal our dreams and vomit them back. dear mother 
birds. theatre.

a mad artist i knew confessed his erotic love for elsie the cow. such a 
truthful man. dear bart and marge, homer and the sweet girl who plays sax.

love,
d