Brain Poops

Most people have multiple systems of measuring time. They have a watch on their wrist, a clock on the wall, and a calendar next to the clock covered in sharpie notes with a different fucking kitten for each month of the year.

I measure time in a different, but no less accurate manner. It’s a three-month cycle, common of nearly all drug abusers, that is marked by the amount of time it takes for Amy Winehouse to have a new drug-addled video crop up on the net.

Now since I first saw the heavy-eye-makeup beehiveio’d songstress I’ve been fascinated by her. She’s like the Icarus of drug addiction and pure rock n roll lifestyle. The phrase “rocking and rolling”, as secular black slang for dancing or sex¹ makes no apparent mention of methamphetamines however.

It seems apparent that the news media would have the collective planetary panties in a twist every time Amy so much as smokes a cigarette or imports in bulk from shady Colombians. Nowadays she can’t even buy an regular case of extra strong stake-awake pills without getting hassled, scorned, and paparazzi bukkaked.

The people have forgotten, or the news media would like the people to forget, exactly what our “stars” truly represent. Be it music, acting, art, social change or literature, these beacons of skill and personality are the guiding lights for some people. (continue reading…)