BRAND NEW - mISCELANEOUS MISADVENTURES AND MEANDERINGS OF TRW AND THE KID

NEW!! Brand new!!!!!

For the few who are reading this!!! This blog, yes this one, is going to be transformed into the blog of the grand and often curious adventures of Thadious and the Kid. I must introduce you to the Main Characters

Thadious Robert Wizner, also know as TRW - He has lived on the outer edges of reality and literary obscurity for decades, and now has finally been caught up with. After a long stint under the grand tutelage of the Dali Lama and Writer Jackson, he has emerged onto our society with a vengeance for experience. It happens sometimes when you're outside of the country for so long you forget that this type of society could exist in the world. As TRW himself says,"We are the reality of what we have been fighting against for over 200 years. We do not see that we are our own problem because as all humans, we don't like to look in the mirror and realize Buddha was right: You will see your problems in others as long as you have those problems."

So why has he come back to the states? Why has emerged now? Why is he on this obscure Blog...a blog that only 100 people a month arrive at, and Chad believes that 30 of those are him. All of these answers will be answered in a recent interview that I had with Thadious over the phone 2 days ago. A lot of it is obscure and odd, but it's normal Thadious as far as I've always known him. But back to the charachters because this Blog has already ran too long.

The Kid - Because of his age we can only divulge he is an emerging genius of the highest quality with a propensity for laziness in such a way, that it holds onto him like a ravenous tiger in the middle of a drought as it tastes the new blood that drip from your shoulder as it bites down. However his true abilities of math, logic, and order are traits of legendary proportion. He's currently going to high-school but going is a loose word for an existence of mock trying and dodgy acquaintance that he turns into grades that would make the cream of the crop smile and cry about. What his future holds is unknown, but i can bet TRW isn't helping or hindering. The Kid seems to understand, but says that he "really aspires to be the neighbor kid". It's an odd comment for there are no neighbors on the large plot of land that they live on. Which causes me to question:

How did this poor kid come across TRW; maybe TRW sought him out for some sort of obscure protege turned wrong and bad. Who knows! Only The Kid and TRW truly know. An obscure answer appears in the interview, but you can take it how you want to.

Tune in for same blog time, same Blog address for the oddly created advnetures and mishaps of TRW and The Kid.

Bukowski Is the NOW

Why did he write his poetry? Why did he exist? Was he as Thompson said of his attorney, "God's prototype? Was Bukowski a prototype of genius? What is genius, when it is put in hard cold black and white? For it can only be read. Read by whomever reads it, and so man ywant to read Bukowski. Everybody wants to read him out loud. They spend a moment praising him. Then they spend a moment, sometime way longer, oh so much fuckin longer, talking about their time with a man who cared more for the cat that walked over his typewriter than this person who is going to read his poetry. Finally they read it.

They read Bukowski with exuberance. They read him with hope, prosperity, and adoration. But,that was not what Bukowski wrote. He wrote the observations of the time, in prose form of poetry that was not suppose to convey anything but the acts of existence, the toime of "now" that that Poem of Bukowski's spoke of. In hos ability, he didn't point out a thing, and explain it as a significance to something else; he asked us to be there.

BE THERE

That' what bukosoki asks his readers to do. BE There. Be in that one spot, at that one time when that action, that moment, that infinitesimal thought sparked in his brain and he thought what ever he mused upon that one idea, given that one moment. Then, you will move on to the next Bukowski poem, which in turn is another now.

And when Hank read his poetry, it was as a man depicts what happened when he turned the corner on that one day, at that one time, and when he saw what he saw, and heard what he heard, he pondered the thoughts that he did. He has now allowed us into that inner sanctum, and we now move on tot he next time.