BTRIPP (btripp) wrote,
BTRIPP
btripp

What I wish ...

I wish somebody would hand me a billion dollars ... I could create a LOT of discordian woo-woo with the annual interest on that kind of money ... I might not be able to change the world, but I could sure make it a stranger place in which to live.

I wish I could get backers for Eschaton ... I love my little publishing company and it needs a cash transfusion in the worst way. I'd be happy to have a half a dozen folks come up with a few thousand bucks apiece to float new printings of books that are going out of print and stuff that's in the pipeline that we can't afford to print yet (hell, we'd even give them a 25% return on their money).

I wish that EVERYBODY I KNOW ... yes, even YOU reading this ... would join the Unicity Network ... it doesn't cost very much and it WILL make you healthier. Everybody in the developed world NEEDS to have some sort of cholesterol reduction, and our flagship product is the single best way to achieve this, without drugs, without side effects. But I know that NOBODY believes me on this. It drives me nuts. Why do you want to die of a heart attack? WHY? Well, if you can't deal with that ... you could at least sign up for the newsletter (go HERE and click on "Free Newsletter" next to my oh-so-official looking picture). It's not a big deal, but it makes me feel that you've made a connection with me!

I wish somebody would hire me for a really fascinating job that paid a solid six figures ... something interesting and challenging and something that somehow I had never considered doing. I'd like to have a job that didn't bore me, that didn't grind me down with the mundane, and that would pay me what I'm worth. None of the ones I can dig up on my own do any of this.

I wish I were able to cram 72 hours worth of stuff into every 24 hour day ... aside from getting caught up on everything that I'm behind on, I'd be able to SLEEP ... God, how I miss sleeping.

Anyway ... got a poem written today ... much to my surprise. We had a guest minister at church today, who (while interesting ... his sermon was on Alchemical traditions as expresed in Jung ... gotta love those UU services!) went on forever and I took advantage of the sitting-down-with-nothing-better-to-do time to write. Here it is ...


                    WE THE TARGET, WE THE FEED


                    the pattern becomes confusing
                    over-laid with other forms
                    which spin out moires
                    in endless combinations
                    we can not hope
                    we can not plan
                    we can only act
                    footfall by moment by deed

                    alone in this
                    always the exile
                    never the leader
                    we forever find
                    us central to some sub-plot
                    which is cut away
                    before the final print
                    to be trivial, forgotten

                    no allies
                    no friends
                    we touch the world
                    in associations
                    which have no depth
                    though wide entwining
                    convoluted connections
                    and meaningless facts

                    how can we engage
                    the world enough
                    to survive its crushing
                    its oblivious drive?
                    the world ignores us
                    and hates our frame
                    it is designed
                    to obliterate our kind

                    what is demanded
                    is our death
                    if not our passing
                    into the other side
                    the world insists
                    our life be snuffed out
                    and replaced by phantoms
                    automatons of its own making



                             - Brendan Tripp
                                07/08/2001

                    Copyright © 2001 by Brendan Tripp
 
 



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