Fuck you America haters.....

Ali

depopulationINC wrote:

Its all well and good to say that all people are equal, and I wish that was true, but we are not. Lets face it, there are many distinct arears/groups of people that will not have the same likelyhood of success or being treated the same as I am. I myself can honestly say that I give all equall oportunity, but I also realise that there are certain groups that will have a higher "less successful" rate. I am not trying to be rude, but yes people are generrally created equal; Unfortunately the society they are born into often dictates a great deal of their future.

Drugs are wrong, but only if you get busted.

DRugs ARE NOT wrong,inc.If you really believe in it,and you join the Native American Church of Canada,you can do it.It's just that those drugs are actually administered to you by your doctors,if you have a medical need.
Morphine is still used nowadays to perform in surguries,marijuana for eye problems, and caffine in everyday drinks.The first Coca~Cola was even made out of cocaine.

Ali

Ali wrote:

Fuck you,fuck you,fuck you.....;)

PS...did I get your attention with the title?

Go FOR DRAMA,my children....;):D

Milestone

A mind blown is a mind shown.

Ali

Milestone wrote:

A mind blown is a mind shown.

Think about that the next time you take your aspirin,your motrin,
your ibuprophin, your caffine, and your cigarettes.Theyre all DRUGS,
and they all have effects.
The next time you drink wine or alcohol,too-BUT-You've never done that,RIGHT?

Milestone

Ali wrote:

Think about that the next time you take your aspirin,your motrin,
your ibuprophin, your caffine, and your cigarettes.Theyre all DRUGS,
and they all have effects.
The next time you drink wine or alcohol,too-BUT-You've never done that,RIGHT?

Of course I have. Actually, I'm currently a drug addict.

Ali

Milestone wrote:

Of course I have. Actually, I'm currently a drug addict.

Well,obviously,we all are.We live in drug societies.
I guess its time for you to go into rehab and get stable on the levels,
of the drugs you have to take,which are meant for you,legally.
Now,if you are a legal drug addict,and you're doing what is proper to your religion,without: hurting anyone,being repectful of others, and not killing yourself, then you're alright.
If you choose to be on drugs which ARE NOT legal without being watched upon or monitored by the governmental agencies and doing what is proper to your religion and to the one of Te United States Of America or your country,
then you should be in rehab.

Milestone

Ali wrote:

If you choose to be on drugs which ARE NOT legal without being watched upon or monitored by the governmental agencies and doing what is proper to your religion and to the one of Te United States Of America or your country,
then you should be in rehab.

Thanks for the advice. How much do I owe you?

Ali

Milestone wrote:

Thanks for the advice. How much do I owe you?

I think,sincerely,this is the advice I would give people that have no clue about gangs, guns, and bombs.

You owe me to think of you while I'm on my trip to Arizona,flying on a 747.

pacifier

Ali, what was this about? Were those two lines meant to sum up something about drugs and american-indian culture? I've gotta say I got none of that. Can you explain where you were coming from in your writing, because it's completely gone over my head. Keep in mind we are not all american on here, so if there are some specific american references that only americans would understand could you explian them. thanks, because this whole thread seems a little bit crazy to me, you write about america haters and hippies and all of a sudden your talking about indians and drugs.

pearlmutt

From Howl

by Allen Ginsberg
For Carl Solomon

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,

dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,

angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to thestarry dynamo in the machinery of night,

who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water fiats 'doating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,

who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated,

who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy among the scholars of war,

who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull,

who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burning their money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror through the wall,

who got busted in their pubic beards returning through Laredo with a belt of marijuana for New York,

who ate fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in Paradise Alley, death, or purgatoried their torsos night after night,

with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, alcohol and cock and endless balls,

incomparable blind streets of shuddering cloud and lightning in the mind leaping toward poles of Canada & Paterson, illuminating all the motionless world of Time between,

Peyote solidities of halls, backyard green tree cemetery dawns, wine drunkenness over the rooftops, storefront boroughs of teahead joyride neon blinking traffic light, sun and moon and tree vibrations in the roaring winter dusks of Brooklyn, ashcan rantings and kind king light of mind,

who chained themselves to subways for the endless ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine until the noise of wheels and children brought them down shuddering mouth-wracked and battered bleak of brain all drained of brilliance in the drear light of Zoo,

who sank all night in submarine light of Bickford's floated out and sat through the stale beer afternoon in desolate Fugazzi's, I listening to the crack of doom on the hydrogen jukebox,

who talked continuously seventy hours from park to pad to bar to Bellevue to museum to the Brooklyn Bridge,

a lost battalion of platonic conversationalists jumping down the stoops off fire escapes off windowsills off Empire State out of the moon, yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering facts and memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks and shocks of hospitals and jails and wars,

whole intellects disgorged in total recall for seven days and nights with brilliant eyes, meat for the Synagogue cast on the pavement,

who vanished into nowhere Zen New Jersey leaving a trail of ambiguous picture postcards of Atlantic City Hall,

suffering Eastern sweats and Tangerian bone-grindings and migraines of China under junk-withdrawal in Newark's bleak furnished room,

who wandered around and around at midnight in the railroad yard wondering where to go, and went, leaving no broken hearts,

who lit cigarettes in boxcars boxcars boxcars racketing through snow toward lonesome farms in grandfather night,

who studied Plotinus Poe St. John of the Cross telepathy and bop kaballa because the cosmos instinctively vibrated at their feet in Kansas,

who loned it through the streets of Idaho seeking visionary indian angels,

who were visionary indian angels,

who thought they were only mad when Baltimore gleamed in supernatural ecstasy,

who jumped in limousines with the Chinaman of Oklahoma on the impulse of winter midnight streetlight smalltown rain,

who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston seeking jazz or sex or soup, and followed the brilliant Spaniard to converse about America and Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship to Africa,

who disappeared into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving behind nothing but the shadow of dungarees and the lava and ash of poetry scattered in fireplace Chicago,

who reappeared on the West Coast investigating the E.B.I. in beards and shorts with big pacifist eyes sexy in their dark skin passing out incomprehensible leaflets,

who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism . . .

Binaural

There's a difference between hating America and hating American





PEACE

Ali

pearlmutt wrote:

From Howl

by Allen Ginsberg
For Carl Solomon

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,

dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,

angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to thestarry dynamo in the machinery of night,

who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water fiats 'doating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,

who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated,

who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy among the scholars of war,

who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull,

who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burning their money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror through the wall,

who got busted in their pubic beards returning through Laredo with a belt of marijuana for New York,

who ate fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in Paradise Alley, death, or purgatoried their torsos night after night,

with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, alcohol and cock and endless balls,

incomparable blind streets of shuddering cloud and lightning in the mind leaping toward poles of Canada & Paterson, illuminating all the motionless world of Time between,

Peyote solidities of halls, backyard green tree cemetery dawns, wine drunkenness over the rooftops, storefront boroughs of teahead joyride neon blinking traffic light, sun and moon and tree vibrations in the roaring winter dusks of Brooklyn, ashcan rantings and kind king light of mind,

who chained themselves to subways for the endless ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine until the noise of wheels and children brought them down shuddering mouth-wracked and battered bleak of brain all drained of brilliance in the drear light of Zoo,

who sank all night in submarine light of Bickford's floated out and sat through the stale beer afternoon in desolate Fugazzi's, I listening to the crack of doom on the hydrogen jukebox,

who talked continuously seventy hours from park to pad to bar to Bellevue to museum to the Brooklyn Bridge,

a lost battalion of platonic conversationalists jumping down the stoops off fire escapes off windowsills off Empire State out of the moon, yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering facts and memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks and shocks of hospitals and jails and wars,

whole intellects disgorged in total recall for seven days and nights with brilliant eyes, meat for the Synagogue cast on the pavement,

who vanished into nowhere Zen New Jersey leaving a trail of ambiguous picture postcards of Atlantic City Hall,

suffering Eastern sweats and Tangerian bone-grindings and migraines of China under junk-withdrawal in Newark's bleak furnished room,

who wandered around and around at midnight in the railroad yard wondering where to go, and went, leaving no broken hearts,

who lit cigarettes in boxcars boxcars boxcars racketing through snow toward lonesome farms in grandfather night,

who studied Plotinus Poe St. John of the Cross telepathy and bop kaballa because the cosmos instinctively vibrated at their feet in Kansas,

who loned it through the streets of Idaho seeking visionary indian angels,

who were visionary indian angels,

who thought they were only mad when Baltimore gleamed in supernatural ecstasy,

who jumped in limousines with the Chinaman of Oklahoma on the impulse of winter midnight streetlight smalltown rain,

who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston seeking jazz or sex or soup, and followed the brilliant Spaniard to converse about America and Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship to Africa,

who disappeared into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving behind nothing but the shadow of dungarees and the lava and ash of poetry scattered in fireplace Chicago,

who reappeared on the West Coast investigating the E.B.I. in beards and shorts with big pacifist eyes sexy in their dark skin passing out incomprehensible leaflets,

who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism . . .

i sure hope,pearlmutt,my american or whatever country friend,
he wasnt gender confused!;)

Ali

pacifier wrote:

Ali, what was this about? Were those two lines meant to sum up something about drugs and american-indian culture? I've gotta say I got none of that. Can you explain where you were coming from in your writing, because it's completely gone over my head. Keep in mind we are not all american on here, so if there are some specific american references that only americans would understand could you explian them. thanks, because this whole thread seems a little bit crazy to me, you write about america haters and hippies and all of a sudden your talking about indians and drugs.

Well,you should GET INTO american culture and contact who you need to contact to change your freedoms.
Don't you think America wants to visit the other countries to promote peace?
And in Amsterdam,where drugs are legal,they represent antohther "tribe",
much like the American Indians.

You gotta realize who your friends are,other countries foreign to me who believe in GOd.And thats my poiint.The rest of you can be fuckers.

burtschips

don't worry pacifier, I'm not too sure what is going on either but it makes for quite interesting readin. i think it might be because i'm not an american or an american hater or an america hater or a native american or a hippie or a drug addict or ... i'm sure there's something else.... all good though.

FinsburyParkCarrots

I prefer Kaddish to Howl, but I still think both poems are shit.

FinsburyParkCarrots

But I love America.

depopulationINC

I don’t think you can/should honestly try to compare the drug problems in north America to spiritual / ritual / medicinal use. I know people who take various banned substances for glaucoma, MS, arthritis, Parkinson’s, etc….and I mean that is all good. I also know many natives who still practice healing ceremonies and what not that include hashish or pot, I even know many recreational users…but to overlook the bigger issues is an insult to every one of those people. Drugs are a problem. Even if only pot….heavy users are a strain on society, but not nearly as much so as coke, crack, meth, etc users. As far as comparing street drugs to aspirin?????????? Why even go there…a form of medication designed specifically to treat ailments, and fairly hard to abuse or become dependant on. Are you going to compare taking a Tylenol to using coke to settle nerves? I have no problem with drug users. I have huge issues with drug abusers. They are a mental and financial strain on loved ones, and society as a whole. They lead to crime, unemployment, increased insurance rates, violence, strains on taxpayers via rehab. No it is not something most can control, and not to many would use if they had the choice, but they are a pain none the less. I feel I can say this without thinking twice or worrying about stepping over boundaries because of my personal history. I have seen both sides and I know what I say is true.

As far as Americans spreading peace….yes, there is a lot of that. There is however also a lot of butting in where they are not really wanted. It’s one thing to offer help in changing, it is another to slam it down somebody’s throat. What one views as freedom, is not what all view as free. Do you honestly believe anybody is free? You conform, as do I, to the government’s reign, otherwise society as we know it here simply would not exist.

Yes Coca Cola had cocaine in originally, which is why it was banned. It was replaced by a legal drug….modified caffeine.

BTW, Amsterdam is seriously changing their “red-light district” image. It is a continuously shrinking area, and you really don’t want to break the rules there anymore.

decides2dream

great post depopulation, but i eespecially love this part:

What one views as freedom, is not what all view as free.


great, great words and so true. and hell, i am american and i don't get this thread at all. so all you foreigners, don't feel left out, i think most of us are. hehe. me, i say feck all haters, b/c...why hate?

pacifier

Ali wrote:

Well,you should GET INTO american culture and contact who you need to contact to change your freedoms.
Don't you think America wants to visit the other countries to promote peace?
And in Amsterdam,where drugs are legal,they represent antohther "tribe",
much like the American Indians.

You gotta realize who your friends are,other countries foreign to me who believe in GOd.And thats my poiint.The rest of you can be fuckers.

Ok, this totally goes of track and doesn't answer my question at all, but in response to what you are saying I know more than enough about American culture, we get bombarded with it here in Australia and I have to say it's a culture that I don't want to 'get into'. Most Americans that I have met seem like really great people, but America as a whole does not appeal to me.

And as for changing my freedoms? WHAT? I am perfectly free. I live in Australia, I'm free to do as I wish and say what I wish, I'm free to get sick and poor because my government supports me during hard times and I'm free to feel safe because Australia is a hell of a lot safer than most countries, including America, I'm sure.

I have no idea the relevance of Amsterdam and legal drugs and other tribes, so I won't even bother responiding to that.

Realise who our friends are? America has Australia in their back pocket, don't worry about that, but being friends with only countries that believe in God seems rediculous to me. Australia is a multicultural country, most of the people here probably don't believe in the same God I do, should we all turn in on ourselves?

Look, as I've said before, I really have no idea where you are coming from and the more you write the less connected everything you are saying seems to be. My original question was what did the two lines in your poem mean?

pacifier

burtschips wrote:

don't worry pacifier, I'm not too sure what is going on either but it makes for quite interesting readin. i think it might be because i'm not an american or an american hater or an america hater or a native american or a hippie or a drug addict or ... i'm sure there's something else.... all good though.

Yes, I think that may be the case with me too. Interesting? sure, but definately confusing!