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Bruce Seaton

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MOVED.

Thu Aug 2, 2007, 1:29 PM

i moved. yay!

I've been away from the site as of late, but should be back with more regularity soon. I now reside in ALBUQUERQUE, NEW MEXICO! Woo hoo! back to the land of my roots... the land of enchantment. totally psyched to be here. now, about that whole job/house thing....

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Listening to: my cat lick her own asshole
Reading: just finished the last Harry Potter (Shhh!)
Watching: the clouds cast shadows on the Sandias!
Eating: CARNE ADOVADA, BITCH!
Drinking: Tecate!

New weird stuff not often seen on dA

Mon Jun 18, 2007, 5:35 AM

Okay, so I have no idea if anyone is ever even going to look at them, but I'm going to post a series of (very) short literary essays here. There's a category for them, and I have no idea if anyone ever reads them--I certainly don't use dA as a source of literary material, but I figured it's worth a try. I've already posted my work online in other places, so I figure there's no loss. So here's the (tentative) list of essays I'll be submitting:

William Carlos Williams as Poet of the Mundane - [link]

Children of Joy? - Ode: Intimations of Immortality and Dejection: An Ode - [link]

T.S. Eliot and the poetry of William Blake - [link]

Fight Club as Feminist Drama

The Precession of Simulacra in Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?

Jeff's Battle for vision in Rear Window

Why the Reader Identifies with the Holy Villain in Manfred

And maybe some more later, but for now, that's a start.

For those of you who watch me and have no interest in any of this, I apologize--anyone who's seen my signature knew I was a snake with they picked me up.

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Listening to: Requiem for a Dream's theme stuck in my head
Reading: old essays.
Eating: my heart. because it is bitter.
Drinking: no, not at work. it's not that bad yet.

home

Wed Feb 28, 2007, 12:00 PM

i want to go home
where the sand stirs
where bobcat screams
to flaming sunset dust orgies

where old man coyote sits
laughing in the hills

where stone figures slowly
grow thinner, holy sand
paintings fly to the wind
pines dry sunning

es el pais de mi vida roja
son las arenas

the air here is too thick
too busy with words
too crowded with
bod
ies
run
ning
eve
ryw
here

and the wet
makes my
hands crack
bleedingfingerfissures

and my jaw is sore
from the grinding

grinding

ground

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Listening to: background corporate chatter
Reading: palahniuk's SURVIVOR is on the pot at home
Watching: a man in a suit pick his nose

american drug dealers

Mon Jan 22, 2007, 1:15 PM

I am surrounded--
bounded on all sides
by slaves in suits.
they strive and live in pursuit
of fruitless, pointless, joyless
ho-hum/hum-drum
crummy little jobs.

if the business of this business
was
(as it claims)
saving lives, enhancing living--
ten of a dozen of them
would be elsewhere.
but the business of this business
(for such is business)
is to accumulate as many
small green pieces of paper
as it can.

and so beyond the building
housing the scientists--
we could call it R&D
but really it's more like
a professional leper colony--
are the massive monstrous multitude
in suits.

it is crucial to note
that these people produce
nothing.

they have meetings.

someday
this company will go bankrupt
because everyone was too busy
going to a meeting
to realize that we'd
stopped
producing
anything.

working for a for-profit pharma company

is like working for a for-profit arms manufacturer.

neither industry ever wants to complete its supposed task.

the arms dealer deals in death
without the hope of peace.

there's no money in peace.

the pharmaceutical companies
of the world have ceased
looking for cures.

no one wants a cure.

if you cure everyone, you have to start again from scratch--
and the money stops rolling in.

so you have to look for a new disease.

treatments, however, ensure long life for the company.
we must keep everyone just sick enough
to keep needing the treatment.

there's no money in a cure.

there's money in half-life.

the pretty little butterfly
& the smiling actress in the khakis
& the adorable kid with the runny nose
& the happy couple with the perfect teeth
are liars.
they are evil.

american drugs will not make you better.

just better... enough.

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Listening to: the hum of a thousand lonely machines
Reading: Ulysses, courtesy of gutenberg.org
Watching: "culture" become the new corporate buzz
Drinking: cheap coffee

HOO BOY.

Tue Jan 9, 2007, 11:50 AM

So I might not be a PhD candidate anymore....

Right, so here's the thing: school's great and all, but i've done a lot of it. Like... way too much already. So I've been wondering about getting out for a while now, maybe actually doing something for a few years, then maybe going back later.

Hmm.

SO... then this other thing comes up. You know how sometimes you'll be working on a project FOR FUCKING EVER and your whole life is devoted to it and then you finish and think "well, that's over with" and just when you've finally moved on to a new thing THE OLD THING COMES UP AND BITES YOU IN THE FUCKING SCROTUM????

AND YOU GO "WHAT THE FUCK? I MEAN YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!"

(that was a long question. sorry)

Anyway, this... thing... I finished a while back just got attention from some pretty gnarly folks, and my life might just get too crazy to deal with school. Oh, and I might have to move to LA. That's it... can't say any more now.

oh, and by the by: here's some crazy shit for all you funky people. go find these folks and give them propers. yeh.