google this, it's not science, is that fair?

on google today, it says 'your idea could change the world, enter the google science fair'. well, i have an idea, but... it's not science. the ideas they're looking for are to keep society functioning dependently on money, because that's how people like google and facebook function so well. if alot of lives can't function, everything works better in a monetary world. selfishness, greed, wealth, all those things are possible for a few, if the world is full of too many people, and some of them have the hardest time, and hey, we'll just blame that on them. oh, they didn't get a good enuph education, or they didn't try hard enuph. forgive me if i was never interested in your daily grind rat race for dream sized dollar bill. my dreams were bigger than that. sorry. the schools weren't teaching what i wanted to learn. they wouldn't let me take the computer classes, i guess because i was already too advanced for the typing class with typewriters. school was a waste of time for me, they weren't teaching what terence mckenna was. i would love to have some computer programming skills, i've got plenty of ideas for that. but the idea i, as an evolutionist, would donate to google's science fair, they'd never take.

it's called the dreamer society. poets aren't dead, they're just being ignored and replaced by marionettes. john lennon is the rockstar we should be pretending is still alive, fuck elvis, he was a show pony. i know that will piss alot of people off. we all know, but some deny, that there are two sides to this media circus. the talented artists, and then there's the marionettes most of the artists used to hate. i thought rap metal would be the end of it. this eighties cocaine dance party just won't fucking die, and it's suffocating the real artists, and now we even have them bitching about downloading, because they're blinded by a dollar bill, too. hey, guys, i'm an artist, too, and guess what, i don't make shyt. i lost half my art, because i couldn't afford to even release it and get famous, wow, try having my life. i just overcame six months of homelessness and lost everything, including a wealth of my art. but i won't get famous because my art depicts a world without the dollar, hmm. yeah, that's fair. the trauma i've gone thru isn't worth my foot in your golden door. i've hated money since i was born. was it because i was born into the black hole of poverty in the most nonexistent town right next to the show. let me inform the world here. right behind the bright cancer of los angeles, there's a little turd on the map called tucson, that no one gets out of alive. i invite you to do your research, go to imdb, and find one star that's gotten out of tucson. go on wikipedia, find any musical artist from tucson. find anything that's made it out of this vortex. and then ask me why i wasted ten years of my life on a stupid woman, just because i had two kids with her. and then let her irresponsibly throw me and the love of my life into homelessness. yeah, wait till i publish the book about it. no one is reading this, don't worry.

but we all know that there are two sides to this media circus, and i remember that one side used to hate the other. and one side used to be more talented than the other. but we're all being suffocated, and no one really has the balls to point out who's holding the pillow, not even our boldest metal bands. don't get me wrong, i love your movies, they're a huge part of my inspiration. but i'm sure we could still make a bad ass action movie without that ugly green paper existing in this world. i'm sorry if that idea bothers you, but if you're bitching about not being able to make your movie, try bitching about losing all your art and being homeless, jackass. you feel a little greedy now, don't you. that's what the dollar has done to us. i've lost alot of ears talking about this, but i feel it's a revolutionary, evolutionary idea that someone else in this world might like. there has to be someone. someone else out there who doesn't like the dollar. someone who has been poor. some artist or dreamer who dreams of joining a whole society of people like them. if i'm all alone, that's sad, and i feel like dying like a unicorn and leaving this world in it's own pathetic darkness. now there's a movie you can make. expensive special effects, oh, go all out. far out, man. spiral out, keep going. oh, did i just rip someone off, sorry. i'm not a fan of copyrights either. any form of greed and selfishness, i think, is just stupid. the dollar has confused the fuck out of us, and made us all so... eh... just disconnected. and oh, don't forget about war and terrorism to worry about, too, we have to throw more dollars at that.

but i'd like just one other person to stand with me and admit that this world would be alot better off without money. a system built on bloody dollars and violence is just not logical. science is logical. evolution is logical. poverty and the shyt i've been thru because of it... no. not logical. half the world being poorer than the rest, lives being destroyed, yeah, real fuckin' smart. go on youtube and watch any video of michio kaku talking about a type one civilization, and then start defending your dollar. yeah, yes, i am a fucking dreamer. by now, some might think i'm a bigger dreamer than john lennon, i'm so close to genius, i'm straight out the door of my fuckin' head. my pineal gland is wildly open, yes sir. i'm so crazy, i think i'm picturing a better future than we're capable of, how's that. i'll put that up against any delusion you've ever had. google that, see if freud's got anything on it. hurry up, we don't have much time before people with expensive suits knock down my cardboard door and put me in a smaller box. and i like my coat better. hee hee ha ha, you get it. but right now, i'm picturing in my head... a division. it's coming thru the hole in my third eye, it's a digital fax from a future michio kaku, saying there's a division of humanity coming. thanks to the possible legalization of marijuana, we're already forming our opinions. and the internet, with blogs and youtube, is making it alot easier for artists to still have their voice, but the dollar is becoming less relevant, less abundant, and more painful. the rich who support the system will divide from the poor who don't support it. or, i should say it like it's the poor people's choice. the poor will divide from the rich. i call our side, the dreamer society. yes, i'm a fucking dreamer, aren't i. i should be. your world needs one. deny this logic all you want, but it's logic. the language alot of people refuse to listen to, and that's kinda why we're in this mess.

patriotic people would argue the logic of this, but one of your 'founding fathers' once said, when the people are afraid of the government, it's tyranny. but when the government is afraid of its people, it's liberty. some are under the delusion that we still have liberty, but those people have bigger wallets, i think they're getting paid to say that. let's listen to someone with a small wallet, no, let's listen to someone who can't afford to buy a wallet, and then we'll call them crazy, turn up the tv, and go back to sleep. well, i was homeless, and i'm certainly crazier than shyt, and have no credibility, but i do have my logical words, and i'm one of those artist dreamers that still believe the pen is mightier than the sword, no matter how much your sword cost you. put it back in your pants, we're tired of being fucked by it. is that my blood on there, oh nevermind. i'm just an artist, i don't matter, i'm not talented enuph to make enuph money to be on your radar, don't worry about me. i live in a turdonthemap ghost town. i've written poems about this place, but no one read them. yeah, right there behind the bright lights, that's me, take a left, watch the mud. signs in your office say 'i'd love to help you out, which way did you come in'. signs in my city say 'i'd love to help you out, but this is an illusion, there is no way out'. david gilmour is playing. we all know that snappy old tune. 'there's no way out of here, when you come in, you're in for good'. oh, yeah, love that song. they don't play songs like that on the radio anymore. or songs like 'we won't get fooled again', i think we forgot about that one. or 'ohio', man. or 'imagine', wow, i could be my own radio station these days, but how many of you would listen. yeah, i'm a rich and famous artist who obviously deserves to be, aren't i. no, i'm one of those wannabe collectors who's lucky they have the computer and the internet, because i never wanted a job, i wanted to smoke alot of pot and dream all day, and write my dreams, and be an artist who people like him for him and not his wallet. what a fuckin' dreamer. i guess it doesn't matter since i lost it all anyway, right. i even typed up the perfect defense for downloaders, but nuthing matters in this world, so it doesn't even matter that i lost it. all we show on apathy tv anymore, is heartbreak and destruction of lives, and boy does it sell like dollar bills. what a fuckin' scam. if that's what you're interested in, i'd rather be a dreamer living the poorest life possible, because thru pain comes the most beautiful art. i'm not a soulless hack hanging off the thousand dollar fishing line. and i can prove it. my art is almost unheard of. and most of it's even gone! how's that.

but i picture a society of people who walk around naked, smoking pot, huge fucking smiles, surrounded by beautiful art from talented people, and not a single one of them has a single dollar bill anywhere near them. there's no cops, no guns, no suits and ties, it almost looks like woodstock, except alot bigger. all those people tripping acid at woodstock, you know, most of your parents... they didn't go to that concert and conceive you for nuthing. now goddamnit, drop your dollar and your selfpitying bullhorn, and play an actual fucking song. play from your fucking heart. and get that fucking marionette off the stage, we want someone with a real smile on their real face. we paid eighty bucks and alot of blood for this show, and we can see the cocaine on your nose. the eighties coke party is over, pantera said it back in ninetysix. we're forgetting our real artists cause we're not listening to them, and we're killing most of them. i heard someone say that the death of dimebag was the worst death since john lennon. and his name was dimebag, you don't get anymore obvious, come on people, open your fucking eyes. you're killing your real artists because you're listening to the ones who don't have dreams. psychedelic drugs are responsible for your dreams, look it up. dimethyltryptamine on wikipedia, go ahead, i dare you. you can't see the billion dollar corporate stick up their ass, propping them up. look at their drug history. in my town, it's either sober system supporters, or methheads and crackroaches. that's all we have here, and they all listen to pop and rap. not a single one of them has heard of john lennon, come down here, i'll show you myself, i'll give you the grand tour. it's an overgrown retirement town, you can't even find psychedelic drugs here, they don't exist in this backward delusion, we just get the leftover drugs from cancer city, sorry, los angeles, the town of lost angels, if you can see thru the cracked out crying angels in glitter and glam, you can see the ghosts of dead artists in my town who never made it out, and really never existed, since not one person could believe in them in this selfish town. the sober people are just as crazy as the methheads, i should know, they're both in my family. you wanna argue my point now, go ahead. let's see what you've got.

i'll be brutally, harshly, hurtfully honest with you. your wonderful pop music fans are some of the idiots responsible for my homelessness. i'd like to see a society of people who are so intelligent, there are no more dramatic arguments from bad actors. i already see it in my head, and it's been ten years since i've done acid, so you tell me. i see a division coming. where the lawbreakers separate from the lawmakers. all the potheads, poor people, unheard artists. think about it. how many people does your expensive society reject.

i wrote a beautiful song just before i became homeless, it was called 'god's gravity', and it was about poverty, and i wish i could remember it, cause it was good, i loved it like a child, it made a hell of a point, and it was painful, poetic, passionate. inspirational. everything true art should be. and it's gone forever. i'll never get to make that song famous for all the fans who would have liked it. do you think that scar is worth the loss of your dollar in a future society. that future is not too far off, you might want to start thinking about it. i'm off now, i've been ranting long enuph, and i'm starving, and trying to watch silver linings playbook with my freshly broken heart and wet eyes. they're my only friends right now. kinda like the gun in that song... was it alice in chains rooster, or metallica disposable heroes, i can't remember, i don't own them anymore. but still, pretty sad. i wrote a song about that, too. how sad this is. i still have it, though, if you'd care to read it. it's called shed my skin, enjoy it. i can't afford to put music to it yet, but hopefully this world will change soon, i'm having some big fuckin' dreams. too bad my blog isn't famous, but hey, pop music fans don't read anymore, and i know that for a fact, they can't even spell texting right. so don't bitch at me about my taste in music anymore, i think i just put that to rest. finally. one of your founding fathers also said, 'god forbid we go two generations without a revolution'. yeah, i'm a fan of titus, too. my poem, god's gravity, ended on the lines, 'the only solution i can see from my hell, is for your expensive heaven to fall'. i miss that poem. it took me two hours to write this. how much do you think i should get paid for my two hours. hmm? guess what, i don't want your money. i want the dreamer society. that's what i'm interested in. look how far your dollars have brought you, thru a repetitious cycle of blood, sweat, tears, and tastey sacrifice. oh, look at that, my steak is here.