A Christmas Lullaby
Everything you wanted to know about university #1:
2. Even Stalin was shot down by chicks when he talked about Marxism.
3. If you are studying philosophy, be nice to the lunch lady. After all, one day you will need her to cover your shift.
4. Yes, it is immature to laugh each time your professor says "Queer Theory"
5. Even though it is hilarious.
6. "20th century urban experience" does not mean riding on a night bus through a bad neighborhood.
7. If you can't spot the smartass in you're seminar that asks the most stupid questions, it must be you.
8. Good marks are great but an inhaler and a fanny pack will help you much more excelling in biology.
9. Linguistics were invented so the professor can shout motha fucka in the middle of the lecture hall without be considered mental.
10. History is the unique combination for people who on the one hand did badly in school and on the other don't have friends.
Paranormal Subjectivity
All eyes were on him. The President, the head of the C.I.A, the secretary of state and even the young snooty aid. Tears began to well up and he felt like he couldn't take anymore. The lies, the secrets, the deception. Every day waking up and putting a facade. He knew his career would be over if it were to leak. He wouldn't be able to go to buy milk. His children, his wife. But he felt it had to be done. That morning, in the daily cabinet briefing, general George Mills, a four star general, confessed before the cabinet that he desired to become a woman.
He was a woman for the past four years, on "Second Life". In the site he was named Laura Mills, Second Lieutenant in the in the Corps of Engineers, married and mother to Ashley, 12, and George Jr., 5, named after his father. Living in a white picket fence house, Laura enjoyed the high-life, enjoying hosting cocktail parties for George and his friends from the ad agency. Living close to the base enabled her to pick up her kids from school, cook dinner for George and attend weekly tap dancing classes. As vice president of the PTA she organized the upcoming winter carnival. She even got Tony Bennett to appear on the main float. Tony Bennett was actually Charlie Milbank, an ex-con who served seven years for armed robbery. After landing a job as a line cook, Charlie spent every waken minute on the site, accumulating fans and friends, appearing each night at the best night clubs and casinos. Every other day buying a new suit and visiting the barber. Six months ago, after a routine mole operation, Tony Bennett went to Acapulco. It was the best time he had in Years.
George Mills put his resignation letter on the oval glass table. He didn't even wait for the reaction of the people in the room. He knew he had to go. After all, the army wouldn't stand a middle aged overweight general with a pare of breasts and shaved armpits. He couldn't say it was for "personal reasons". He just couldn't hold it in his stomach. Come what may. The only thing he felt sorry for were his soldiers. After his family there was nothing closer to him than the troops. He would spend each Christmas in a remote base. One time in was in the pacific. Another it was in Central Asia. Darn, how could he tell his wife she was going to a lesbian? George did not fancy the boys. He always thought that was a bit perverse. He loved his wife and wanted to love her as a full blown woman. If only she would understand. He knew the cabinet wouldn't understand. That is why he told them first. To get that part over.
George pulled his chair way back because his stomach was ledged under the table. He stood up, saluted the people in the room, put his cap under his arm and marched out of the room.
That night Laura hosted the most exquisite cocktail party. The surprise of the evening was the un-announced arrival of Tony Bennett. He came to town two days earlier for a prostate exam.
Immigrante Manifesto/E Nechin
• I sat down to write the next great American novel, but then I realized I was Russian
• I sat down to write a Russian masterpiece, but then I realized I wasn't suicidal
• I bought a typewriter because I am a romantic. It's a pity however that I need to use the computer spell check in every sentence I write.
• I want to write as well as Kafka. I just don't want to turn into a bug.
• I want to be influential as Marx. The only problem is I can't grow a beard.
• I write to reach catharsis…at least that's what my analyst says.
• I love bob Dylan, I just can't stand his voice.
• I would have wanted to be born black. I just wouldn't want to go through the hardships.
• I would like to be a freedom fighter. I just don't want to get killed.
• I want to be a trend setter. I just don't want to be an outsider.
• I advocate the redistribution of wealth. The only condition is that it will start with me.
• I want to direct a movie. The only problem is I don't like giving out orders.
• I love foreign movies. The only thing I don’t have patience is reading the subtitles.
• I would like to be a stand up comedian. The only problem is I can't tell a joke.
• I would like to teach a in the university. I just don't want to study ten years before I start.
• I write to attract women. Well, that's it. That's the whole point.
• I sat down to write the next great novel but then I realized I don't have anything to write about.
First Light - From Austria to Israel and to London
Fartog means dawn or first light in Yiddish. The Blog is named after the street I use to live in which is named after a Jewish magazine published in 19th century
For what ever reason it might be, Smolenskin is forgotten and all we are left with is a pseudo intellectual, who invented a scrambled, incoherent language. Plus, his son was more annoying!
This blog concerns alternative culture vs. Mainstream idiocracy; maybe here is a good place to start.