reactionary ringtones and gossip

hey everyone -- i'm just here reading brandon brown's blog on gossip in preparation for tomorrow and life -- npr is blastin' from the kitchen and the biscuits have filled the house with the smell of butter -- yumm -- can't help but comment on the "reactionary ringtones" banned in Tibet -- these songs are all peace and kum bie yah at the fire, singing of the sun, moon and stars. The poet speaking, the younger sister of the dali lama, never thought political labels should reach music in the ways they have, while others say the "reactionary" label makes them "finally exposed" given the "ringtone" ban.

lyrics are like "all the children of the land of snow pay absolute tribute to you" as they speak to the poet, sister of the dali lama. the songs are of exile of the sun --> dali lama, and the moon & stars --> other dali blanks. gossip is not idle talk like wiki says -- it is so cohesive and grounded! my god, this is community building! i had a weekend last week and i had all gossip and no community. is there a poetic community? yes, more poets now than ever, thanks to blogs and cosmic spider webs. is there a community? is ashland a community? this weekend didn't show me that -- there is potential, and i've a community, but as for the larger spectrum -- help us please

in the spirit of talking points, which really orders reality (i.e) = equals = "writing responds with dramatic openess" when undergoing contraint, i will proceed: first of all, i was an escort. Brook needed to go out and she couldn't walk alone. she might have been left there in the house had the street to her duplex not led me there. she washed her hair in a bottle of tibetan rose water, obviously not banned due to political content. it's imported and fair trade, and i know she doesn't have a lot of money, but she just had to do it for spiritual reasons -- well said. next, while escorting, the stars shown. and when arrived, me very capricorn, though in a piscean manner, checked the carriage/bike trailor for a child. i had been with the bike-trailor-child's-mother eariler in the day, having found her at the food store. she beckoned me to her house where we smoked a spliff with zach and the framed indian picture.

from the deck we left the bike trailor from our thoughts and brook smoked some american spirit tobacco from the blue pouch. she prays with tobacco, but when she gets distracted and forgets to pray, she just gives thanks, on the deck to the tobacco gods and the framed indian picture, although she doesn't know it.

1. i go to the food store when i'm looking for someone to do something with -- it never fails
2. i hover around dari, the child who rides in the bike stroller, and it was his mother who....

continuing, as any good escort, i walked brook to the door. i would have stayed but i didn't have my ID or anything, even though brook brought me $3 for the cover. the door guys took her in, and i, in any sort of demuir manner a capricorn, early in piscean adventures, psychically moved in to hug brook good bye, although not physically, at which point the door man said, "and you're both 21 i suppose".. so brook gave him the $6 bucks she had and he didn't seem to mind the cover was $5 .. each obviously to his own.. "all night you're going to find out why you're here" brook told me, i knew for a reason she was a truth speaker because all day (since 5) i had been trying to go home and people held me out until now...

night proceeded with some friends by the fire and brook even got one of them to buy us drinks although i'm not so inta horny toads... deschuttes was off tap.. the music was alright until later and that's when we started to dance. yay, but inbetween this we hung out with our extremely horny friends who bought up horny toads.. somehow they have money... and are horny... horny money.. yes...

jason took us outside and we watched through the windows, like any good aquarian counterpart.. (always enjoying watching and exemplifying the connatations of language.. 'i want to do you" versus "i want to bed you" like the actor said to me.. doing you happens in the laundry room, between the dryers.. and bedding.. well that's the shakespeare actors' tongue for ya.. but jason thinks it has to do with granny panties and hot cereal. hot cereal and getting tucked in.. sounds warm :)

when we went to go back inside.. all smitten and so.. (i just saw jason in my third eye as i wrote that..) we saw a cop by the bike trailor... there was fog on the zipped up front part and when people breathed we could see their breath in the air.. i stood by and Brook supported and i gave the cop a word or two.. though the mother said I WAS babysitting.. i told him.. "i have been a caretaker for the child" when he asked me the very same question. i'm open to talking to DHS for her, it's not a matter of anything but the truth and give or take some ill decisions, i know she loves that kid more than most things

the music got better, my sisters were raging and i didn't even know it was them on the mike.. they brought the truth straight and live and true, like the arrow i've left at home in it's quiver.. raged and raging.. we lost jason to the wind and ali soon became part escort. i tried to bring them to MY house for some warm milk.. it is a couple mile walk through the forest.. and we scarcely made it past the plaza. though once at ali's (warm) house we slept in a bed of velvet pillows and dreamed common dreams. we had warm (chocolate) milk, and dehydrated kale "chips".. that rah, mon. what's the point of all this?

i have a community but i'm dissapointed in ashland's. Why were the cops called? crucial question one. whoever called felt like shit and he should have been more couragous. it takes courage to go up on the deck and say "hey! hey you bitches! whose baby is this? i'm so worried, i wanna call the cops!" .. but no, the cops were just called without warning. when does the community step up to make sure everyone is accounted for. fuck me standing over the 13 month baby at two am outside the bar with the fog on the bike trailor cover!