flickerfest8/29

Looking Back, a short film I made from Steve Elliots S8 footage shot when he was in Viet Nam, and film I shot of him walking on railroad tracks to Hell Bound Train, by Savoy Brown, and Pigmeat HeartBeat by Pink Floyd is going to be shown in the Flickerfest Film Festival, at least in Chapel Hill, at Cats Cradle.

      Steve was my girlfriend’s boyfriend before he went to Viet Nam.

      We spent time together enough that he gave me his film, and I shot film of him and edited it together.

      I thought the festival would have preferred the documentary I shot of Carter’s Inaugartion.

      It has been a good while since I have had a film in a festival.

      The DVD technology helps since I have lost films I made by trusting people to send them back.

       I no longer give people my originals to show.

       As far as Super 8 is concerned it is not good enough to be duplicated much.

       I never did get permission for the soundtrack from the artists and I am hopeful that they will not sue me when the film is shown and accept that I’ve never yet made a cent from the film.

       In fact I haven’t let people much see it because I never have gotten around to getting rights to the soundtrack, which I think helps it.

        If you know anyone who was in Savoy Brown or Pink Floyd I would appreciate it if you would let them know that I would be grateful if they would not sue me for using their music for this little film.

        It would be nice if this film was shown in Viet Nam for it would show instant regrets.

                                                                                                                                 love, russell

         

       

Judgements/Working Class Corner Theology

I have not been to church in over a year except for a memorial service and an ash internment of my father-in-law who was a Prespitarian, physician however you spell it, minister, of South Port and Scotland, far as I can tell.

His sonnets are on the site and laid out better than what I filed this weekend.

So I have done a reading and it has come up from the I Ching and the Bible to be about judgement at the hand of God on both counts, in both books.

Well maybe I am wrong.

51   Chen/The Arousing (Shock, Thunder)

The superior man does all he can to make sure he does what God would want.

John 1-19-28

"I am the voice crying in the wilderness."

      Now I want to make clear that I am a pragmatic man with spiritual intent, and that I know that now I have less time to live than I have to learn.

        I know that the great life is the life lived for love and only love in all its forms physical or intellectual, and that if I live and act according to bad ideas I might as well be a very small bug that has no soul.

        Now do ants have souls?

        I have at least told my wife that when I die I do not want to be buried and all of my parts are up for grabs if they are useful and otherwise what is left of me may be studied or possibly eaten.

       I was very happy to see that the trapped submariners were rescued before they ate each other.

       To complete this reading I need to read Acts 3-1-ll and Judges 7-1-8 apparently.

                                                                                                                -Russell

 

       

Baked/& Note for TV

I added to the poetry section two poems:

        I was prompted to post the poems because of an email I got asking if I wanted to contribute to a Drag Queen Queer Show oriented Television Program from a Public Access Channel.

        For the poem Selecto Sexo I imagine pictures of robots and sex toy to a voice over, and it is one of a series of poems I wrote in the television Voice Over style.   Others in the series were advertisments for a Space Ship named the Ace Leader Star Chief, and the Glaxo, a Space Truck.

        Selecto Sexo was written in 1976, and Using the Lumberfile, was probably written sometime in the Eighties.

        Selecto Sexo is about bi-sexuality, and Using the Lumberfile is about Menage` Trois.

       Somewhere in the letters index is The Essence of Love, which is the poem I have been thinging about the most lately.   I will likely write it into the Poetry section soon.

        It’s been a hot summer and I think my brains have baked some as a result.   I feel this sort of do or die and I don’t care what I say sort of compulsion exacerbated by my Father-in -Laws’ death which has brought up in me memories of my Father and events surrounding his life and death.

        I’ve been in a good deal of pain for the past week and though in my past I have lived through and recovered from boughts of chronic pain, I was younger and knew that I would recover if I took certain actions like leaving Manhattan and taking work that wasn’t as hard, but didn’t pay as well when I was working.

         It’s never all one thing.

         Is it my back, or could it be my kidneys?    I’m pretty sure it is my back.

         I read a nice little piece in The Week magazine that pointed out that if God was so intelligent why did he make us with such flawed back design?   What a fine sentence there was in the piece about evolution had left some scars.   "Scars of Evolution", what a fine phrase.

         I’ve been thinking about The Essense of Love because people asked me what Heavan was like and because of my vision called Transcend-O-Ray, I do feel like there are all these spirits that want to be in bodies because they know that regardless of the security of just being with God and all the other lighted things, you get to have sex and eat in a body and if you don’t have a body you can’t do that.

          Some of the shame that is associated with sex may well rise up from the rememberance of spirits that it is unique to the physical life.

         Light has a constant speed unless it is slowed down as it passes through the glass lens.   My favorite book in the Bible is St. John because when I read it I could read it simply as advice on how to take photographs.

         When it is really hot and it is really cold there come these views of the world that those of us still blessed with eyesight know achieve such horror or truth and beauty that we can feel our souls being created from the anonoymous spirits who thirst for individual successes and share the tortures as did Jesus and Budda describe.

         I have not done a service with the I Ching and the Reading for the Day for longer than much of the time, and have been trying to write my Book.    There are some paragraphs I’ve come across in past postings that made me wonder if I remembered who I was and made me remeet myself  actually surprised that I wrote at least one good paragraph.

         Now my Theological arguement with the Vatican Agenda and Bush Policies as concerns Womens Rights and the Rights of Gays is boiled down to my sense that from a purely practical standpoint it is to the advantage of the Spirits that knock at the door, knowing of the rarity of the physical event so much as we have it for a finite time, that those of us having it are in conflict with them and need to teach them that if they are patient and allow us to not destroy the planet we will be more able in the long term to let them have the ride we are on.

        If the Pope is so in touch with God I would expect him to allow prevention of pregnancy with a sense of patience towards all the spirits out there trying to get here.    Really I would expect the Infinite God to accept human wisdom and the recognition by the bodied made into souls that it is the same duty to the spirits that they expect from God.

        What is wrong with me if I recognize God may forget that he is infinite?   Frankly I think God wants me to recognize that he might forget and it may be a little joke he put forth that gives me the opportunity to make him proud of me as if he were my Father and I wanted to make a good arguement to him to get some respect.

                                                                                                                        Love – Russell

                         

          

Using the Lumberfile

Using the Lumberfile

 So she bought the ticket

 and got on the plane

 towing her boyfriend, viagra 60mg

 And they came to her Other boyfriends` home.

 Willing, salve all tested.

 Then he watched some

 then put his fingers where they would do the most good for her.

 The member moving in and out of her, drugs

 So that she knew that

 She was loved

 and had it all for herself.

 Not to give to anyone.

 Not the baby crying in the night

 or morning to suck without orgasm her tits.

 But the act become primitive

 and unconnected to any possible event

 Making her a god.

The Outsider

The Outsider

 Conversations in the night.

 10 different jobs every year.

 Towns and cities, stuff

 Women & sometimes men.

 Judged and abandoned, abortion

 Leaving some just the same.

 Filled with fear of dying in advance of destiny.

 Working for others to get a meager meal

 or scraping on my own to finish a deal.

 Forever, forever, forever Alone.

 I am the outsider,

 And my life is my own.

Home

Home

 What perfect man would there be

To turn the tide of history?

 Is it you?

 It's sure not me.

 Or if it is

I shirk the role

 Hide out beyond prying eyes

 Avoid all printed truths or lies

 Read the headlines while buying beer

 and turn away from all I fear.

 

 11/25/97

Digging to China

Digging to China

 I'm digging a hole here in North Carolina, herbal

 Seems I'm digging all the way to China.

 As much as I'm digging I might get there, sick

 before the War Starts.

 

 Diggin a Hole here in North Carolina, help

 I'm digging enough dirt to get to China.

 Making a big hole here.

 I ain't got much to fear…

 

Well I'm not stupid But I'm not famous.

 You won't be hearing me

 Before the coming Catastrophe.

I'm just Digging a Hole here In North Carolina.

 They'll be scared when I pop up in China.

 They made me a Yo Yo I'm taking with me.

 

 Up and down all around

 we never learn and we never forget.

 

 Slaves and servants, soldiers,

 05 as well be winter leaves.

 

 Every nation with a buck to bank at the top

 sends out their fearful, sells out to slavery

the ones they can.

 They've got buddies they do business with.

 Look up, look down,

 Pull the string on the Yo Yo

 and see what you are.

 

 

 

 I'm Digging a Hole here in North Carolina.

 Somewhere else they're digging a hole for me,

 not on the ground,

 but from offices that look down.

 They're still at the top of a falling tree.

 

 When I look up, I see it falling on me.

 I'm just Digging this hole.

 It's a real nice day.

 I'm just Digging this Hole In North Carolina.

Working Class Corner/Turtles

Turtles are my favorite animals.

Day before yesterday I found one in the road turned upside down and closed up, but not smashed.

I stopped and moved that turtle to the grass.

When I was young he was a Box Turtle.

How he got turned upside down is not known to me.

Maybe he was so slightly grazed by a car wheel that he was turned upside down.

Turtles do not do jumping jacks or play on trampolines.

I got to be God to that turtle, which is either a he or a she apparently,

depending on the temperature.

I would like to see a movie of sex between turtles.

There are things that I do not know about and have never seen

And will never see,

And do not understand.

Obviously turtles and tortoises are so similar that I am tempted to call them all turtles.

Possibly they have different ways of having sex.

Some of these reptiles seem to have sex that is like having a satisfying bowel movement.

Comparable to mastibatory reproduction practice.

Still I imagine that turtles have souls because of the way I feel about them.

I want to be a turtle that swims in the creeks near the ocean.

Later.

After I am a human.

Having a thick skin, a bit of armor on my back and staying low to the ground or better yet in a near infinite sea and sort of weightless seems okay if thinking isn’t all that important and the world is a gift I do not need any capcity to change.

Being a human being is difficult.

We are required to share some things and the place we live with not just ourselves, but turtles.

The answers to our questions come out of our mouths and we expect someone to answer and look for an answer when all that comes is an echo that is a question.

Why?

Why?

Dig.

Dig.

Save what you dig into.

Die on it and fertilize it is what the souls of the infinite do.

We are finite and have choices to engineer.

Therefore our gift and curse is the same thing

and we are warm blooded fools invested with the hope of turtles and cockroaches.

Forgive yourself.

Something not thought of by a bug as an option for the insured failure.

                                                                                                     Love, Russell

 

Jesus Was Better Than Me

Jesus Was Better Than Me

Jesus was better than me.

He walked more.

I remember he rode a donkey once.

Jesus was better than Mohammad.

Mohammed robbed people on the Silk Road.

I want to be better than myself.

Sometimes I have been.

Other times I’ve been regular.

Buddha had some suffering.

I think he died of a Cold.

The one way that no one has ever died,

Is not really invented.

Still it is a surprise.

You get sick, you get crushed or stabbed or shot.

Getting shot is like getting stabbed,

And getting crushed is like falling or a bit like

Being blown apart.

The insects only fight with themselves.