Friedmaniac

Do not bother to take out your theories, papers,
All those diagrams and your well drawn out charts.
I have seen them all.
But while you play with your little figures why don’t you explain to that child on the street why his dying of hunger (when you live inside the growth bubble) is good for the economy.

Quebrada del Yuro

They did not kill Che in Quebrada del Yuro.
He was killed slowly, painfully, distastefully
Without regret or guilt, by people who are not cruel, who do not hate, who do not kill.
Who know how to love, what poetry means, who understand and are not blind.
Who feel his spirit being crushed under their very feet but do not care.
And they stand over his grave and weep.
He was killed slowly, painfully, distastefully
By those wretched tears.

Caulfield

People keep saying Holden had a psychiatric breakdown. Honestly, that aspect never struck me. When I read the book, he is perfectly right in the head. It’s all the others who have got the problems. I mean to say, what he says makes perfect sense and all.

H.V. Caulfield

Holden Vitamin Caulfield.

Swiss cheese and a malted milk.

Stradlater

I am the biggest ass in the whole world, because after I wrote that first post, I went and checked the first page of love story to make sure i had the lines right. Fat ass loser that i am, i ended up reading thirty pages( love story is one of those annoying books which you can’t really stop reading as soon as you start even though it makes you want to puke). And then, I suddenly realised who this Oliver Barret guy reminds me of. Old Stradlater, or whatever his name is, Holden’s roommate from you know, Catcher in the Rye. Always in a hurry. Everything was a big deal. And I bet Barrett had a great body and walked around in his bare torso too. And suitcases as good as Holden’s. Just being in love doesn’t mean he is not a fat assed phony.

From Calcutta, with Love

What can I say about an eighteen year old girl who has not died? That she is not beautiful. Or brilliant. That she loved Mozart and Bach. And the Beatles. And me.

Except perhaps that she is me.

No, I don’t like Love Story,I think its pretty ordinary, and if I had to pick an Erich Segal novel I would pick ‘The Class’ over it anyday, but if I really had a choice I would pick neither.

I knew that if I waited too long to start a blog because I couldn’t think of a brilliantly creative idea I would end up using the worst way in the world to begin one.I guess I could say its part of this being honest thing. Oh, I didn’t tell you. I am going to be completely honest here and all. Because I am this completely screwed up person who is afraid to let people know who I am because I think they will hold it against me. There you go. I told you something really true about myself already.

I am really tired of calling everyone to say how my life is going, so from now on, you can all check here, and you’ll probably know more than I ever would have told you.

Honest to blog.