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Goner Message Board / ???? / Goals in life
Posted: Aug 17, 2007 6:43 pm
 
What if you got no goals in yr life except drinking? And music. I have the feelin music won't get any better than this. Drinking neither. What do other people live for? Family life? Not for me. As far as I can think the only thing left I really, really wanna achieve in this life is meeting the folks I've met in Europe and some others I only know thru the web. I probably can manage that if I drink less and order less records and go to less shows. But what after that? And how do I explain this to my girlfriend???
I love her, but I miss the shows and when I go to shows I think I've seen (and drank) this all before. What next?
Don't understand me wrong, I'm having fun. But it all seems so useless.
I wish the Fatals were back together....
Posted: Aug 17, 2007 6:59 pm
 
eat more cheese
Posted: Aug 17, 2007 6:59 pm
 
i want to buy a house and stop paying rent. otherwise drinking sounds good to me.
Posted: Aug 17, 2007 7:04 pm
 
HA, I'm a cheese lover! I ate pratically all kinds of French cheeses (the smellier, the better!), a lot of Spanish cheeses. I love old Dutch cheese and about all the other Dutch cheeses. Tried it all and it's good. I even like the cheap cheese in my Big Mac. Not really something to live for, is it? Any other things to live for?
Posted: Aug 17, 2007 7:04 pm
 
live to die baby!
Posted: Aug 17, 2007 7:05 pm
 
i want to buy a house

Me too, but you can't buy a house here on yr own when you spent too much. They're just too expensive. Don't want my gf involved in buying a house. That would make her expectations of our relation to high.
Posted: Aug 17, 2007 7:06 pm
 
live to die baby!

Doing that and liking that for the last couple of years baby
Posted: Aug 17, 2007 7:08 pm
 
I'm just wondering if I can live for something else than death.
Seems a bit radical.
Posted: Aug 17, 2007 7:13 pm
 
Any other things to live for?



japanese women
hong kong movies
french food
Orval (oops sry, no beer)
baseball
brian peppers' rehab
haunted george (oops sty, no music)
her
this

and this

Daffy Duck In Hollywood

Something strange is creeping across me.
La Celestina has only to warble the first few bars
Of "I Thought about You" or something mellow from
Amadigi di Gaula for everything--a mint-condition can
Of Rumford's Baking Powder, a celluloid earring, Speedy
Gonzales, the latest from Helen Topping Miller's fertile
Escritoire, a sheaf of suggestive pix on greige, deckle-edged
Stock--to come clattering through the rainbow trellis
Where Pistachio Avenue rams the 2300 block of Highland
Fling Terrace. He promised he'd get me out of this one,
That mean old cartoonist, but just look what he's
Done to me now! I scarce dare approach me mug's attenuated
Reflection in yon hubcap, so jaundiced, so déconfit
Are its lineaments--fun, no doubt, for some quack phrenologist's
Fern-clogged waiting room, but hardly what you'd call
Companionable. But everything is getting choked to the point of
Silence. Just now a magnetic storm hung in the swatch of sky
Over the Fudds' garage, reducing it--drastically--
To the aura of a plumbago-blue log cabin on
A Gadsden Purchase commemorative cover. Suddenly all is
Loathing. I don't want to go back inside any more. You meet
Enough vague people on this emerald traffic-island--no,
Not people, comings and goings, more: mutterings, splatterings,
The bizarrely but effectively equipped infantries of
happy-go-nutty
Vegetal jacqueries, plumed, pointed at the little
White cardboard castle over the mill run. "Up
The lazy river, how happy we could be?"
How will it end? That geranium glow
Over Anaheim's had the riot act read to it by the
Etna-size firecracker that exploded last minute into
A carte du Tendre in whose lower right-hand corner
(Hard by the jock-itch sand-trap that skirts
The asparagus patch of algolagnic nuits blanches) Amadis
Is cozening the Princesse de Cleves into a midnight
micturition spree
On the Tamigi with the Wallets (Walt, Blossom, and little
Sleezix) on a lamé barge "borrowed" from Ollie
Of the Movies' dread mistress of the robes. Wait!
I have an announcement! This wide, tepidly meandering,
Civilized Lethe (one can barely make out the maypoles
And châlets de nécessitê on its sedgy shore)
leads to Tophet, that
Landfill-haunted, not-so-residential resort from which
Some travellers return! This whole moment is the groin
Of a borborygmic giant who even now
Is rolling over on us in his sleep. Farewell bocages,
Tanneries, water-meadows. The allegory comes unsnarled
Too soon; a shower of pecky acajou harpoons is
About all there is to be noted between tornadoes. I have
Only my intermittent life in your thoughts to live
Which is like thinking in another language. Everything
Depends on whether somebody reminds you of me.
That this is a fabulation, and that those "other times"
Are in fact the silences of the soul, picked out in
Diamonds on stygian velvet, matters less than it should.
Prodigies of timing may be arranged to convince them
We live in one dimension, they in ours. While I
Abroad through all the coasts of dark destruction seek
Deliverance for us all, think in that language: its
Grammar, though tortured, offers pavillions
At each new parting of the ways. Pastel
Ambulances scoop up the quick and hie them to hospitals.
"It's all bits and pieces, spangles, patches, really; nothing
Stands alone. What happened to creative evolution?"
Sighed Aglavaine. Then to her Sélysette: "If his
Achievement is only to end up less boring than the others,
What's keeping us here? Why not leave at once?
I have to stay here while they sit in there,
Laugh, drink, have fine time. In my day
One lay under the tough green leaves,
Pretending not to notice how they bled into
The sky's aqua, the wafted-away no-color of regions supposed
Not to concern us. And so we too
Came where the others came: nights of physical endurance,
Or if, by day, our behavior was anarchically
Correct, at least by New Brutalism standards, all then
Grew taciturn by previous agreement. We were spirited
Away en bateau, under cover of fudge dark.
It's not the incomplete importunes, but the spookiness
Of the finished product. True, to ask less were folly, yet
If he is the result of himself, how much the better
For him we ought to be! And how little, finally,
We take this into account! Is the puckered garance satin
Of a case that once held a brace of dueling pistols our
Only acknowledging of that color? I like not this,
Methinks, yet this disappointing sequel to ourselves
Has been applauded in London and St. Petersburg. Somewhere
Ravens pray for us." The storm finished brewing. And thus
She questioned all who came in at the great gate, but none
She found who ever heard of Amadis,
Nor of stern Aureng-Zebe, his first love. Some
They were to whom this mattered not a jot: since all
By definition is completeness (so
In utter darkness they reasoned), why not
Accept it as it pleases to reveal itself? As when
Low skyscrapers from lower-hanging clouds reveal
A turret there, an art-deco escarpment here, and last perhaps
The pattern that may carry the sense, but
Stays hidden in the mysteries of pagination.
Not what we see but how we see it matters; all's
Alike, the same, and we greet him who announces
The change as we would greet the change itself.
All life is but a figment; conversely, the tiny
Tome that slips from your hand is not perhaps the
Missing link in this invisible picnic whose leverage
Shrouds our sense of it. Therefore bivouac we
On this great, blond highway, unimpeded by
Veiled scruples, worn conundrums. Morning is
Impermanent. Grab sex things, swing up
Over the horizon like a boy
On a fishing expedition. No one really knows
Or cares whether this is the whole of which parts
Were vouchsafed--once--but to be ambling on's
The tradition more than the safekeeping of it. This mulch for
Play keeps them interested and busy while the big,
Vaguer stuff can decide what it wants--what maps, what
Model cities, how much waste space. Life, our
Life anyway, is between. We don't mind
Or notice any more that the sky is green, a parrot
One, but have our earnest where it chances on us,
Disingenuous, intrigued, inviting more,
Always invoking the echo, a summer's day.

John Ashbery
Posted: Aug 17, 2007 7:19 pm
 
Posted: Aug 17, 2007 7:22 pm
 
Posted: Aug 17, 2007 7:22 pm
 
this

Nice sidekick but not something to die for.
Japanes women neither, I prefer professional sleazy mid-aged European prostitutes.
Just ordered the new hg/lamps split and the Lamps lp.
French food ain't that good 'cept the fries.
Don't like sports.
And most of all they all make you drink even more, which isn't bad, but is it worth it???
Posted: Aug 17, 2007 7:23 pm | Edited by: Jasper de Wilde
 
Haven't read yr poem though, michael
Posted: Aug 17, 2007 7:24 pm
 
And I can't/won't watch youtube here, the connection is too slow
Posted: Aug 17, 2007 7:28 pm
 
not my poem

ashbery's


i kind of agree re french food btw; but there are enough sleazy european prostitutes here in nyc area
Posted: Aug 17, 2007 7:31 pm
 
Here's one
Posted: Aug 17, 2007 9:29 pm
 
You should build your own submarine with guns and torpedos.

And then give it to me.
Posted: Aug 17, 2007 9:39 pm
 
I'm just a cooling technician, Jack. To keep the engines, computers, air, food and BEER cold...
Posted: Aug 17, 2007 9:42 pm
 
Fuck David Beckham.
Posted: Aug 17, 2007 10:53 pm
 
Maybe you should volunteer some of your time and some of your skills (if you have any that are useful), to people in need. Are there housing projects in europe? Maybe you could offer to fix those people's a/c for free. Helping others might give you a sense of purpose.
Posted: Aug 17, 2007 10:56 pm
 
Fuck other people. Especially astroturf lovers.
Posted: Aug 18, 2007 12:40 am
 
Fuck ... astroturf lovers.

I do. Regularly.
Posted: Aug 18, 2007 12:49 am
 
Next goal...

Open the bad ass espresso cafe and get out of this social working joke for good.

I have so had it. Talk about thankless jobs; you can only coast on doing good without shit for money and/or people caring about what you do and clients continually hating you when you are simply trying to help when they'd just like to complain and vent for hours at a time for I'd say 10 years before you go totally insane and start hating people. At least that was my timeline.
Posted: Aug 18, 2007 12:57 am
 
I think travelling is a good goal.

I still have my goal of going to west texas to feed beer to a goat.
Posted: Aug 18, 2007 2:27 am
 
"MOM!!! SARAH'S TRYING TO MAKE ME THROW UP AGAIN!"
Posted: Aug 18, 2007 4:02 am
 
My one big goal is to cycle around South America for 6 months once my son graduates high school and we get him off to college.

I think I'll deserve a break by then. 5 more years.
Posted: Aug 18, 2007 4:46 am
 
last one to the life goal is a rotten egg! eat my dust!
Posted: Aug 18, 2007 6:12 am
 
i want to do the whole europe/backpack thing at some juncture. also want to sit on a beach in thailand at some point, and also drive all of route 66. i want to also publish a book. would like to get my doctorate too eventually (i'm about 9 months away from my master's currently). would like to buy a house sometime.

my main goal though is to have a job that i don't loathe, hate, and despise. i won't sell anything and i don't want to feel a sense of impending doom every time i pull into the parking lot.
Posted: Aug 18, 2007 9:46 am
 
my main goal though is to have a job that i don't loathe, hate, and despise.

Good one! And ofcourse it must be a very well payed job.
Posted: Aug 19, 2007 1:26 am
 
I still have my goal of going to west texas to feed beer to a goat.

you and me both.
Posted: Aug 19, 2007 6:05 am
 
my mom had a pet goat. for packer games she would paint its horns green and gold. you could feed the goat beer but usually it would find one unattended, tip it over and drink it itself. they had an elaborate system of walkways so it could climb on top of the sheds and stuff around, one time it pissed off the roof onto my friend mark's head. when it would get drunk he would get angry and horny, go around with a big goat hard on head butting into people, you'd have to give him a couple smacks between the horns so he would mellow out.
Posted: Aug 19, 2007 10:40 am
 
Posted: Aug 19, 2007 5:34 pm
 
Traveling, traveling, traveling. Starting that whole adventure in a month and a half. Everything else is an offshoot of the whole traveling thing, like trying to weasel my way into the Thai B-movie industry.
Posted: Aug 19, 2007 7:01 pm
 
Saispas, my brother was a social worker. He got so sick of dealing with people he quit, moved to Equador, came back after a couple of years, and went to Vet school.
Posted: Aug 30, 2007 1:38 am
 
i think Adam K has got the right idea.

looks like we are off to meet clay henry nov 1!
Posted: Aug 30, 2007 2:25 am
 
I always thought it would be cool to walk the Continental Divide National Scenic Trail all the way from Mexico to Canada (or in the other direction). It takes about six months.
Posted: Aug 30, 2007 3:35 am | Edited by: Womb Raider
 
looks like we are off to meet clay henry nov 1!

Dia de la cabra!!!
Posted: Aug 30, 2007 8:19 pm
 
jasper, they change as you do. the key is to know when you're living your goal of the moment--and enjoy it while it's on.

if you're digging the records and beer, then dig in. but don't sink the submarine!
Posted: Aug 30, 2007 8:26 pm
 
IF I COULD JUST GET OVER THIS HANGOVER DIARRHEA I'D BE A HAPPY PERSON.
Posted: Aug 30, 2007 8:34 pm
 
Just come to Seattle Jappy, I'll show you somthing to live for or die tryin.
Posted: Aug 30, 2007 8:46 pm
 
Haha, I'd be happy if I make it to Rotterdam Rumble in October, but first Jack O, Harlan, Livefastdie and the Hipshakes at Robby G's bithday bash this sunday!!!! Life's great if you stop looking too much ahead!
Cousinb, I'd might make it to your one year anniversary though, I'm thinking of buying five weeks of extra holidays next year.
Posted: Aug 30, 2007 9:15 pm
 
Hey, we had a pet goat too! Until it ate the curtains, then it was an outside pet. I'm not sure why it didn't start out as an outside goat...
Posted: Aug 30, 2007 10:54 pm | Edited by: deadcityrebel
 
i'd like to find the actual oregon trail. i still don't believe it exists
Posted: Aug 30, 2007 11:01 pm
 
I want to become a nun, the president or a sacred prostitute.
Posted: Aug 30, 2007 11:07 pm
 
You're bang-n hookers an' livin' in the Netherlands with five weeks' vacation time a-year? You're start-n out where most goals end.

Damn, you're right, there's nothin' for ya.
Posted: Aug 31, 2007 6:10 am
 
I just want a job...
Posted: Aug 31, 2007 8:02 am
 
I'd like to own a copy of everything that Mystic Records put out.
Posted: Aug 31, 2007 2:46 pm
 
... and a nardcore4life tattoo across your chest... or forehead?
Posted: Aug 31, 2007 6:41 pm
 
Both!
Posted: Aug 31, 2007 6:59 pm
 
my immediate goal: to watch european soccer games this fall on TV.

can someone please tell me where this schedule is? i've looked on Time Warner cable in NY and can't find anything. i don't have ESPN.

i like soccer!! i need help!!
Posted: Aug 31, 2007 7:02 pm
 
To continue on and somehow forge a career out of readin incessently and smokin and drinkin. Otherwise, life seems pretty goddamn good. Boy how things change in 6 months!!
Posted: Aug 31, 2007 7:03 pm
 
it's generally not on espn, fsn carrys the most without getting pay per view
Posted: Aug 31, 2007 7:06 pm
 
That Irish bar at Grand & Bedford always has the soccer games on.. I think it's called IONA...
Posted: Aug 31, 2007 7:17 pm
 
jenna: yeah, you really need a satellite dish to get the good stuff. the bar on my corner has direcTV and they get all the european sports networks piped in that way. they show everything, even scottish premier league. it must cost them a fortune. I highly recommend watching games in bars, try to find a place that has a same day delay of the games so you don't have to wake up at 6 in the morning on the weekends.
Posted: Aug 31, 2007 7:20 pm
 
ok, thank you, chris.

mike, i'll spot you a beer or two to keep me company. i cannot endure sports watching in a bar on my own. redds also has the games, i think.
Posted: Aug 31, 2007 7:26 pm
 
i cannot endure sports watching in a bar on my own.

I used to feel this way but during the world cup last year I got into the habit of watching games by myself at the bar, it's actually pretty fun if there's a bunch of die hard footballers there. probably different if you're a girl though.
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