Illegal Fucking Leopard, Man...
So here I am at a place called The Oracle in Weed. It's a cafe. And a restaraunt. And (sort of) an art gallery. I need a headquarters for Sunday and Monday and Saturday after 3 and every frickin' day after 5. I'm not sure about this place. It's, uh, kinda hippy (or at least what passes for hippy these days). The Beats hated the hippies. At least Kerouac and Burroughs did. Because most hippies think that they're intellectuals by osmosis. And to prove my point I already overheard one conversation regarding books here that nauseated me to the core of my soul. Something along the lines of: "I don't want to go to college, man. They make you read too many books." Yeah. That's why (for better or worse) going to college is considered getting an education. Reading won't help you pull chicks (trust me...not anymore anyway). It won't even make you friends (trust me). It won't make you happy. But it might (and should) make you more intelligent and interesting (at least to me). And it might assist you in being able to locate fucking Tibet on a goddamn map (uh, so if someone like me asks you where Tibet is because you have a "free Tibet" sticker on your Volvo). Oh well. I can't judge this place immediately. But they don't boil the water for their tea (badbadbad). And, for people so "earthy", what's the deal with the silly fucking quasi ancient/futuristic "ambient" music they all seem to love so much. Oh yeah...The Beats. They hated the hippies (except GInsberg), mostly I think because they didn't read. But most backpacking beard-growing wannabe hippies who read Jack Kerouac don't even know that. Probably because they don't read anymore than they comprehend the thriftstore Kerouac books that take up space on their shelves. Oh well. What do I expect anyway? So I just got back from fucking civilizaiton (a/k/a/ Sonoma County) AGAIN. Pretty uneventful. Unless you count listening to Public Enemy's "Fear of a Black Planet" over and over and over and over again while one Agent Joey Nova took nappys and talked to his girlfriend on the phone for three fucking hours! Oh well...boy and girl stuff...what is one to do? Bollocks to haircut punk. As ever, your Rich Daddy, Felix.

¶ 4:25 PM   

Anonymous said...
Books and the people who read them are sexy. Writers are even sexier.
T.->  

Post a Comment