My Writing and Art lives here….
by Martin Anton Smith
The Big Nose Of History Is pointing toward you.
So, I suggest you put down your picks & shovels.
Else the future’s pages may cast you as ‘The Bogeyman’.
& That’s one tunnel you can’t escape from,
Even if you can dig upwards.
Be warned!
Never Sneeze at The Big Nose Of History.
By Martin Anton Smith
The worst thing about getting older is your social life dries up,
Young people treat you like you are aged 125 & fuddy duddy.
Your sex life also almost entirely disappears @ you get used to it –
which is even more depressing in itself.
Another problem is it becomes near impossible to make new friends –
This problem is caused by the ‘set in your ways’ mental homeostasis crystalising.
When you are young everyone has left of centre views other than a few freaks –
These were the freaks that had already joined the tory party & already dressed like office managers.
But now when older you are either in the centre or the left or the right –
& those political views seem to now be great social chasms to traverse.
Whether you are a man ot a woman, getting old is still a tricky business to navigate –
And the phenomena of status & social standing has a lot to do with things.
In terms of ‘social standing’ – it’s fair to say it is quite different between the sexes.
I won’t list other than to get right to to denoemont:
Men who don’t have money & never looked good are lowest on the pecking order;
Men who have money & looks are on the top;
Men with Money & no looks are second;
Men with looks but no money are in second last place.
Not being Female, I will not pretend to do the same analysis –
Other than to say that the ‘former beauty type’ seems to suffer the most.
You can find these types working in retail shops in Malls –
preying on the customers for kicks.
Of course in terms of bodily health men & women both decline,
But men who exercise a lot seem to gain youth by way of muscle mass –
muscles seem to be there own ‘fountain of youth’.
For both the sexes the worst off is undoubtedly this one catorgory:
The long term career public servant or corporate office dweller,
Or as I like to call them “Unhappy Office Blobs” or UOB’s for short.
Those UOB guys age the worst – so as a message to the young:
Don’t be a UOB if you can help it.
There is one good thing about aging: You start to enjoy solitude more,
You appreciate nature more & are better at spotting a bastard or a bitch.
The moral of the story? – Yes, ‘aging’ sucks but as an accountant might say:
“There are significant fringe benefits to be had”
So if we are wise – when faced with the scary prospect of ‘aging’ –
There is no need to frantically clutch at lifes shrinking straws as we fall towards the graveyard,
We simply need to accept that the exciting war of youth’s past is long dead,
So as to finally enjoy the low-key-peace-era that has long since broken out.
The other option would be to be a forever partying wrinkled old fool…
But this is folly as you cannot recapture the past, no matter how you try…
for that perfect old adage is true
“You cannot put your arms around a memory”…
For is it not the inaliable right of a good citizen to grow old with grace?
NB: Like the crooked celebrity docter, I The writer hopes to be able to follow his own prescritions…
I will keep you posted with my progress in future as yet unwritten poems…
by Martin Anton Smith
My cat adopted me as a hungry abandoned kitten.
Initially I watched him through the glass on the front yard.
He would trap spiders on the lawn with his paw & then eat them.
I did not want a Cat so I squashed feelings of empathy.
For those first two weeks I would not feed him & chase him off my lawn.
On the third week I had put out some bread for the birds.
Then I saw him eating the bread himself.
It was then I realised that for a Cat to start eating bread,
things must be pretty direly bad.
I then knew I had better listen to that conscience of mine talking away –
The voice that was saying – “why don’t you take that poor hungry cat under your wing?”
SoI agreed & went to the fridge & got some juicy-red, rib-eye steak.
I cut it into cat-bite sized portions.
I took it out to him & put it down on the concrete patio.
Of course, this poor little cat wolfed it down greedily & voraciously.
Fast forward 5 years & he has become a healthy but spoilt cat,
Who gets fed 5 times a day & even has his own adult sized couch.
Interestingly the other week a 3-legged stray Cat turned up on my roof.
This Cat who I have named ‘Hop-ee’ looks down at us with bedraggled eyes,
My cat – named Squeeky due to his vocalisations – simply growls at him from below –
keeping a firm eye on him, but never climbing up & attacking or chasing him away.
I think Squeeky is letting him know he will allow him to visit a little,
But he better not leave his designated minor territory,
That has been allocated to visiting & so by definition, second-class-cat-citizens.
This tells me that perhaps Squeeky’s benevolent behaviour,
Is evidence that cats can remember their difficult ‘childhoods’,
& also show a certian empathy to another Cat who has suffered similarly,
But they are also wise enough to not give away equal status or sovereignty.
The lesser status interloping Cat is wise enough to ‘know their place’,
& be greatful for whatever is given to them.
Then I made the silly mistake of feeding ‘Hop-ee’ some of Squeeky’s biscuits.
I guess I certainly violated the accepted “Third-Party Peace Broker Protocols”,
By negotiating peace/treaty terms clandestinely without his knowledge.
When Squeeky saw Hoppee chowing down on his own vittles,
He meowed or more correctly – caterwailed protratedly & with acute jealousy.
Then followed it up with a swift swipe against my bare legs – drawing some minor blood.
It’s like he was saying, it his Cat-like-way
“Martin – my charity only goes so far with Hop-ee,
& it certainly does not extend to the sharing of my food, especially without my permission”.
I of course apologised profusely, As all 3rd Party Peace Negotiators in-the-wrong should.
However, a few weeks on, I can report that the trick is now on Squeeky –
As if I hatched a plan to feed both of them at the same time with Hopee on the roof
& Squeeky out-of-sight in the back yard.
Thus Squeeky is would be happily none-the-wiser to Hop-ee’s ‘biscuity roofy gulpings’.
Of-course in reality this orchestrated ‘cat-cold-war-detente-plan’ is imperfect given Hop-ee is a slow eater,
& Squeeky – a fast eater.
However it is a good enough work-in- progress-somewhat-workable-peace-treaty.
I can confirm that I have not been re-attacked & Squeeky’s jealousy filled growls are reducing.
And Hopee’s face is now much happier, his eyes brighter.
This story simply proves that animals can avoid & de-escalate war & manage peace talks via 3rd parties –
far far better & with less fuss than Humans through History have ever been able to.
I am sure when the Aliens finally visit earth they will say:
“Take us to your Cat – Leaders….but please don’t feed us their biscuits“
by Martin Anton Smith
If you die and people say ridiculous things at your funeral –
As they as normal folk are prone to do,
I think it’s only fair you briefly return to life like Lazarus,
Get out of your casket,
Walk or better limp up to the mic,
Grab them by the neck,
Then roundly slap them.
After that, yell loudly “Don’t ruin my funeral with that crap”.
After that you should return to your casket,
Get in then slam the lid down hard.
If done right there should be many “gasps from the gallery”,
But no so many that you can no longer reast in peace for eternity.
If this catches on,
Funerals will be far less painful.
For all attendees be they the living, the dead, or the living un-dead
by M. Anton Smith
Breaking News:
Writers Block Connects with Writer’s Head –
Luckily, they were already a blockhead anyway,
So no one other than a few blog readers were harmed.
(Apologies – This is a slow news day – Ed)
by Martin Anton Smith
The Femminists hate Bukowski.
But they secretly read his books in the book store,
making sure not to tell anyone.
But all the bookstore owners know their game –
& I am one of those bookstore owners.
In the end as they age –
The Feminists all end up marrying a ‘Bukowski-like-guy’.
After all,
‘People always get what they can have’
You see I was not correct to say “The Feminists hate Bukowski”
I should have said this:
“The Feminists Love to hate Bukowski”
And by marrying a Bukowski-like-guy,
The Feminist can have lifetime-job-security –
She can talk to, eat with & even fuck the object of her derision –
She as a crazy feminist loves being hitched to an ‘unsolvable problem’
The ‘unsolvable problem’ that is her “Bukowski-like-guy”.
I now command you to read the first half of Bukowski’s “Woman” –
Unlike life – The second half is a repetition of the first.
Deep down, surely the Feminists have to at least respect Buk’s complete honesty.
I mean that is a truly rare thing,
As much on the written page as it is in Life.
P.s. As an aside I lied about being a book store owner –
If only I was, I’d finally be happy!
But then again have you ever seen a happy book store owner?
I am not so sure.
Perhaps it’s because of the –
“the more you know – the more you know what you don’t know” effect.
Either that or they are just slowly going broke –
Which incidentily is a favourite topic in Bukowski’s work.
by Martin Anton Smith
A one-inch-tall man who lives inside a ten-inch-tall glass jar,
Shouldn’t be surprised when no matter how fast he moves or jumps –
That he remains inside the glass jar…
But even worse off are the people next to him,
Also inside the glass jar,
That insist the glass isn’t even there.
by Martin Anton Smith
The smart person who chooses to not use their smarts,
Must logically be *much* worse that the dumb person who *can’t do*.
Much much worse than the dumb person who *tries to do* yet fails;
And *infinitely worse* than the dumb person that does, in fact, *do*.
There are far more smart people that *don’t do* than dumb people that *do do*.
Smart people who *don’t do* seem to think they have an a-priori greatness,
As if their ‘real self’ is alive in some kind of a parallel Platonic-like-universe,
Where great thoughts & ideas are the only game in town
But really, here on Earth – they are by any practical definition,
The dumbest people around.
Someone with an IQ of 120 or more should not forever be cleaning out chicken coops,
& having no real impact on anyone or anything…..
I blame the ‘Quad-um-virate’ of Universities, Corporatism, Politicians, & the Thinktank elitists –
They have installed this mindset in the people via their deft duplicitous chicanery,
For this ‘Quad-um-virate’ likes to build up social hierarchies in people’s minds –
& How can a Uni student ever mix it with Einstein, Tolstoy, Jobs & Woz, Dirac, Crick & Watson & JFK etc?
They like to ignore the fact that people usually succeed through trial & error, obstinacy & just turning up.
The obscure the fact that doing anything is ultimately just a process & is available to anyone.
But why would the knowledge gatekeepers do this?
They do this because they must keep only a small % of people ‘succeeding’ –
They must vigilantly police who gets to the upper part of the pyrimid –
They can’t let everyone succeed on merit or by access to ungated resources –
For how else could you fleece the last remaining few shekels?
Yes The shekels of the great billions running on the hamster wheels –
A few small dollars stolen off the great 8 Billion strong majority adds up very nicely,
When it is shared to the few tens of thousands the apex levels of the pyrimid scheme.
But you must convince them that they can’t do.
& This is why I say it is so bad when a smart person knows this & still enslaves themselves.
The others have an excuse.
The smart do not.
Did not the ex-Roman Jew-prosecutor-turned-Christian Paul say this:
“Do not make yourself a slave unto man”?
These are wise words.
Also, Bukowski the drunk poet said something similar:
“If you know & don’t do you have attics & dark halls in your mind to walk up & down in & wonder about”.
I am convinced that if you took the millions of smart people who let themselves be brainwashed to ‘not to do’ –
by some Machiavellian character in higher education or some villainous corporatised entity,
They’d spontaneously do the great works on this Earth they were meant to do.
Someday, someone or something will make this all happen.
For it is the greatest swindlers tragedy to be on this beautiful pale blue dot life support system,
Which has bountiful food & the only barriers to movement are the geographic gates:
Mountains, Rivers, Seas, Deserts.
Yes – it’s amazing that even one man was ever fooled into seeing these false & invisible barriers –
Yet the entire times of mankind suggests it was entirely normal.
Yes, all of Earths entire generations have seen this elongated swindle we now call History.
History’s litany of records of the invisible barriers has never been real truth –
it just proves & documents that ‘the swindle’ has been effective for too long.
For a swindle is still a swindle no matter how long it is plied for.
A smart man that finds his voice & so ‘does’ is known by a better name:
A ‘Wise Man’.
The ‘Wise Man’s’ function is to show people the Truth of what is really happening.
Hazaar to the Wise Men!
Rare in modern times – but not yet extinct – maybe they can still save us….
….If only they’d finally find their voices soon…..
…..For there must be a few million of them at least….
For isn’t the ‘Wise Man’ just a ‘Smart Man Who Does”?
by Martin Anton Smith
In the early few months of the Gt Depression –
Roosevelt said “The Only thing We Have to Fear Is Fear Itself” –
This was broadcast to all the masses.
Just after Roosevelt said that line,
All the adults in USA looked at each other & said –
“Geez – things are way worse than I thought”
The man who cannot ‘walk & chew gum’ at the same time takes a long time to get anywhere –
Unless of course he hates to chew gum,
In which case he is always on time.
But then on arrival he faces a new problem –
No one wants him around –
You see ‘Gum chewers’ think ‘Non-Gum Chewers’ are snobs.
After a while this accusation gets to him & he begins to chew gum.
In no time he makes a lot of friends & is known for always being late.
Over-excited by his newfound popularity amoungst the ‘Gum Chewers’ –
He goes overboard:
He subscribes to “Gum Chewers Monthly Magazine”
He invests his life savings in Wrigleys
He joins the Ivory Towers set & writes a thesis called:
‘Saw Jaws & bubble blowing throughout the ages: a longitudinal study well worth sinking your teeth into’
He is then approached by a well known american publisher to turn his thesis into a book,
Then Hollywood comes a-knocking for a feature length documentary
‘Saw Jaws’ becomes a Rollicking blockbuster –
He moves into the Hollywood Hills & dates a bevy of ‘A-listers’ –
Of course – “what goes up, must come down”
Fast forward 7 years – he is washed up, on crack & outa fame & cash & lives under a bridge.
“I wish I’d never reached for that stick of gum” are the words that rattle his head constantly.
They are not the only ones
“How can something as insignificant as chewing gum lead to this”
“How did the Devil get me in such a obscure way as this”
“Now I am so broke I can’t even afford a pack of gum”
Then he had an epiphany: he’d walk & not stop.
He’d walk & not chew gum – ad infinitum.
He Walked & Walked & Walked & never stopped.
People fed him along the way & gave him a bed at nights.
He began to get attention
Eventually the News Networks wanted to buy his story – for a princely sum.
Strangely he said yes and the whole ‘rise & fall’ story repeated itself again.
The moral of the story is this: Never try to impress the in-crowd.
Alas it is always true – they will chew you up & then spit you out.
But why can’t they Chew you up & spit you out at the same time?
Bloody Hypocrites!
Thankyou for enduring this long lasting & unpallatable gum chewing = life analogie
After all – It really is just some pricks piss poor poetry –
But then again – so it all is – it’s just the fancy packaging that makes you think otherwise.. .
