November 30, 2006
The Heirarchy Of Beauty

What is Beauty? What is beautiful??

It seems to me that there's a Heirarchy of Beauty in this world. I don't believe in a caste system of success, never did, never will. It's some kind of hidden madness. I prefer the Anarchy of beauty, beautiful anarchy. Live 'n' let live. Talent is much more of a turn-on than anything else, more wonderful than (runaway) models on runways. I am lucky to hang out with beautiful people. But what does this mean? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. "You are beautiful, no matter what they say." People are people, and each person is beautiful. Yes, each person holds beauty, if you just look for it. Nevertheless, such pre-conceived notions DO exist, the prejudice(s) of what beauty is ...

Side-trip "A": The English band The Who (possibly the coolest band ever) had a single back in the early days of rock music called, "Pictures Of Lily." It featured extremely fat chixxx in bathing suits, making fun of "beautiful things." Brilliant. Another form of beauty. Playing with perceptions. But if we are to challenge our value systems, create new weights and scales, than we also must tear down what we know. Men are the ones waging wars and turning into foaming-mouthed dogs at the mere sight of a pretty girl. Fools. Let us respect women for who they truly are. Let Lily lead us! Fearless destruction of convention! That's what rock is, what art is, what it should be: taking a critical look at society.

Side-trip "B": My ex-girlfriend was beautiful but her mom was a raging bitch (no wonder her dad ran off with the secretary!) and a rich-bitch as well, and constantly reminded me of how much money they had, (man, that made her ugly) and that they're bigshots at Microsoft (a Level 12 - whatever that means). To which I always said, "Wow." It should've made them all feel better, (maybe they should've hired a Blonde Gardener) but it didn't. Then after listening I would smile, go in the bathroom and VOMIT. Quietly. Hope she breaks free ...

Why do people think in terms of "levels" instead of humanity? Snobby people can kiss my punk ass. Why is there a stepladder system, one that encourages a caste system of beauty and success? Isn't it all just bullshit? Or is it all relative? (Like sexy sisters, Horny Twins, see below.) Why is blonde considered beautiful? Bland! Concocted by magazines and advertising firms to continue the existing notion that blondes are sexy and angelic (at the same time). Do they really have more fun? Could it be that these notions are rooted in racism? (Blonde-haired blue eyed devils calling the shots ... thinking they're above everyone else?) Why does beauty promote material wealth? Why do "good-looking" people always get the good jobs? I've been told I'm good looking, so why do I feel like a fucking loser? Heh, heh. Don't know if I'm at the top or the bottom. Hire my band and let me croon! This is an Anti-Blonde Tirade, an Anti-racist and absolutely Anti-Pseudobeauty tirade! Hats off to those who live outside this tyranny! Consider this a petition to uplift the Independent Soul, to give jobs to the SMART people (even if they're ugly) who DESERVE it ... Especially if they're ugly! If they're green, red, or whatever! Yes, especially the imperfect ones. They say that Sting (keep in mind, he's a blonde) hires musicians for his band who are NOT especially good looking. So that he looks better looking, almost perfect. I met Sting once, he's a prick. He's a good singer (for a blonde) so I forgive him ...

Anyway, I went to hear this other English band the other night, Muse. They were great, good strong songs, boys. A promoter guy I vaguely know got us in, we'll call him The Lion. Cool show indeed - even if the singer from Muse is way too skinny. Eat something, man! (This is a typical problem for models, and MTV bands ... but the sound was fat!) Is he beautiful? His guitar solos certainly were! At the aftershow party, there were a bunch of Brits and folks from India (spice wars!) and whatnot and someone told me that "the light skinned ones are usually rich." Um ... so I puked again, realizing that the Heirachy of Beauty was in full swing. Tell ya, I'm a tad bit anti-blonde, perhaps, but I'm also tolerant. Heh! This means - I snuck two blonde fans into the VIP area, (repeat: blondes) 17 and 19 respectably (?) and cute as sin, and we'll call them the Horny Twins. Yes, they're sisters! All the guys were checking them out (and some of the girls, too). Had to laugh at the superficiality of it all. 'Twas sexy, though. They got in on the sheer power of a text message I wrote to them on their cell phone, went something like,


And suddenly, the Horny Twins were in, like magic - beamed past the "high security" guards, the VIP-lisp bouncers who hid that all-important VIP-list, that their names were definitely NOT on. Them babes got past the Superficial Dupes (fooled by beauty) and cruised into the party area. Fire! Oh, what power beauty doth have! They were black holes and I was the Revelation. (Hey, that's good.) Pretty critical of "beauty." Call it a healthy skepticism. Helter-skelter-realistic-optimism. I've met some supermodels and many of them were as dumb as a box of rocks. Why do we desire them? Who trains the brain to react so? The pancreas danse. We must be strong! and look for REAL beauty. Unless we want the whole deck of cards (our society) to collapse in the wake of LACK OF REAL THINGS. And now on to real things. Yes, I will spell it out.

LOVE is the ultimate beauty!

This is what is lacking. Many and perhaps most of the people who hang out in VIP lounges have never experienced Love. How sad! How ugly! Someone said, "Todd could have sex with a girl that most guys would cut off their arm for, but he said no." Ya know why? 'Cuz I have a new girlfriend, fuckhead, and I'm gonna behave. Today she put her head on my shoulder and said sleepily, "I love you ..." Now THAT'S beautiful! Get it? Ain't nothing better. Except maybe the perfect jam session. Yes, Love is the ultimate beauty. Let me spread this powerful message across the universe. Love yourself, love your lover, love your neighbours. Put down yer guns, Huns. Let Love rule. Hell yeah! Or better said, "Hallelujah!" And even the blonde girl on a power trip behind the bar (who yelled at my beautiful Persian friend, probably just because she wanted to show how blonde she was!) couldn't bring me down. No way. I was on a Persian excursion. May her dark days of power-trippin' soon end, in the coke drenched corners of her MTV heart. Me, I'm on a different trip. I've got love in my heart. We all danced and yelled and talked about music and other sexy things. It was beautiful. Even if one of the Horny Twins had the blues, because she didn't connect with the band. Please climb into Muse's hotel room window, take the singer out to dinner and make him EAT something! Too skinny is not too cool! And as I write this I'm in a low-down chinese buffet, downing teriyaki chicken, and it's bad. I mean really terrible. In fact it's so bad it's ugly. Tastes like dried out dog poo. Tastes like Martha Washington's ass. But I'm alive, and I've survived another wild night. And it's all-I-can-eat. That's alot. And just the fact that I'm sittin' here, nibbling and writing and surviving, well that's just ... BEAUTIFUL. I wish Lily was here. I am grateful. There are so many hungry people in the world. That's UGLY. Here's a short list of other ugly things: hatred, killing, prejudice, jealousy, sexism, racism, all the other ism's. On my list, hatred is at the very bottom and understanding is at the top. Period.

I don't know how to define beauty (or if one even should) but if you're reading this, then you're beautiful ... Peace, -Todd

Posted by calico at 07:41 AM
November 23, 2006
Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. Be grateful, bitch! Gobble, gobble. Peace, -Todd

Posted by calico at 09:53 AM
November 20, 2006
You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Deadly Questions

Went to a friend, a young priest, to tell him about a bad thing I done did ... first thing he said was, "Did you kill somebody?"

Posted by calico at 01:15 PM
November 11, 2006
Life Like A Poem

Got this package with a CD in the mail from Ireland - and what was stamped on it was the coolest poem I've seen in a long time! It read, and I quote:


Cool as fuck! Talk about a run-on sentence. Who do I ask for permission, to use this for some lyrics? How long will their answer take? ha ha! Peace, -Todd

Posted by calico at 08:38 AM
November 10, 2006
Driving Around Last Night

True stories from the road. We were cruising in his van, on the way to a jam session, in fact. All of a sudden, he said out of the blue, "Ya know, Todd ... I used to shoot heroin. It was terrible." Oh, man. My heart sank. Yuck! "That shit is the devil," I said in all seriousness. "Yeah, I know ..." he said. Silence again.

"Man ..." he said later, staring out the window, "I wish I could sing like you."

What a compliment! It was genuine. Thanks, man. Said I wished I could play guitar like him, too. Thoughts on a stormy night. Peace, -Todd

Posted by calico at 12:20 PM
Hanging With Saddam

So you wanna hang 'em high, cowboy. Like in pre-historic days, the stone age. And you're gonna show that it's wrong to kill by KILLING. Hmmm ... most ironic. Phoney elections, and now phoney courts, hurrah! Guess ya want to fight fire with fire. And they all think they're above the law. Well, here's a friendly message - what the good book tells us - and if it applies to Saddam, than it applies to you, too, Mr. Rumsfeld. Mr. Chirac, Mr. Putin, Mr. Bush, you are not exempt! The bible says:

"Ye shall reap what you sow ..."

Peace, -Todd

Posted by calico at 11:10 AM