The Phuck U Philosophy

The BWD
The Last Day of 2003
The Phuck U Philosophy


The measure of my genius is directly proportional to the quality of the drugs, and viewed from the inside out. Viewing the same from the outside in, in the manner of total sobriety, and with the judgmental green eye of discounting, genius manages to respell itself to genus. The ‘i’ not only distorts, but manages to drop out of the scene altogether, like in ‘did I say that?’ I am sure that I did, I just don’t know which I of the I was the eye at the time. Aye? (1)

I haven’t turned a hand to writing for quite a while. Not that I spent that time reading, or even thinking, but something akin to just being, loosely imaged as a terrestrial gastropod mollusk of the genus limax, better known as a slug. Or something that can be detoured with ordinary table salt, thereby reduced to the jellyfish slime of no incentive. Which in itself is motivation under the principals of The Phuck U Philosophy. .

As I camp at the yellow arched gate of 2004 waiting for the green light of entrance, which in my area amounts to a preposterous firework display, and at least one inebriated critter climbing atop a pole and being electrocuted crispy to the tune of ‘Auld Lang Syne,’ I ponder, and predict, and make resolutions, which I intend to break the first day of January. It is an exercise of my will.

So far, it is a banner year, as there is snow covering my desert backyard that resembles the frozen tundra of my previous provocation. And as it thaws and drips from the rooftop, I too melt into reminiscence of my many years spent under tutelage at the U of Phuck. I ceremoniously graduated as valedictorian of my genus on September 9, 2003, and this is, more or less, my thesis.

I just want everyone to know that I did not come upon this odoriferous credo easily, as selfish stinks after three days.

Ones dogma, is ones own best friend, hopefully, as held up to the mirror of objectivity it spells out ‘am god,’ which clearly defines my own truth as my own absolute. And as I strum my own abso-lute to the tune of be major not minor, I am hoping my dogma doesn’t resemble some over-bred, over-fed, yapping pedigree rudely licking the faces of all those I approach. But then, do I really need to concern myself with the general demeanor of my dogma?

Rule number uno of the Phuck U Philosophy is that there is only me and my shadow, and something brutishly designated as energy in action. So whether my shadow chooses to stroke or choke my dogma, it matters not, for my dogma will survive either way. Maybe minus a few filaments of previous bristle, which will only serve to make it more attractive.

This, of course, means that the U of Phuck, is the same you that sits in judgment, or the me that is contained therein also. The U of Phuck is all about attitude that needs no adjusting or posturing to fly straight and level. It is the tude of the dude that says ‘I yam, what I yam,’ and then eats spinach and spits iron nails with no apology.

After all, the best I can hope for is to nail my own shadow to the wall, but it will always change according to the position of the blazing sun, or hide in the black of a dark moon, and is therefore unaffected by my antics. The heart of the matter is if it matters to me, and becomes matter for me to deal with accordingly. Attention is where my tension is, and what has my concentration or confluence of influence. .

That pretty well sums it up. So far the Phuck U Philosophy has served me well, but then I don’t pre-tend to make sense, or cents for that matter.

In the spirit of remembrance, Happy Knew Year.



Footnotes
(1) Acknowledgement to the nyms, hetero and homo, all having to do with pronunciation, articulation, intonation, and spelling. Not to be confused with synonym, which clearly has no substitute in the thesaurus.