I'm sick of all the celebrity/hero worship around me. On TV, people gushing about movies and even on freakin' YouTube with all these homemade tribute videos (choke). But you wanna know who my hero is? I've got way too many. A lot of them live in this damn building. Anyone who can compete with cockroaches for their dinner, well, I take my hat off to them. But for the sake of following trends, here's one of my heros. A minute of silence please, for someone who never really achieved the silence he sought. Dear, sweet Arthur Rimbaud. He rented a room, once upon a time, in Paris. It didn't go so well. I think he got in trouble for urinating in his landlord's coffee. Totally inappropriate but worthy of mention for history's sake. Arthur was a poet and a genius, but then he went off to travel the world and ended up running guns in Ethiopia. ¶All I see is coincidence. Like how most of Washington is basically Ethiopia, and how there's people running around with guns here too and how Rimbaud's first book of poetry is entitled 'A Season in Hell'. Tell me about it. I think I'm gonna have to make a YouTube tribute video. With a soundtrack by Prodigy or Nitzer Ebb. Cool. ¶Wait. I just checked Wikipedia and they claim (in hypertext) that Rimbaud was the 'archetypal enfant terrible'. Whatever. He was just plain typical. All the crazy rebellious Europeans I know trade in their anarchist card by age 21 and forget the meaning of angst just in time to create over-coddled terrible infants of their own.
Showing posts with label cool people. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cool people. Show all posts
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Arthur Rimbaud Mon Héro
I'm sick of all the celebrity/hero worship around me. On TV, people gushing about movies and even on freakin' YouTube with all these homemade tribute videos (choke). But you wanna know who my hero is? I've got way too many. A lot of them live in this damn building. Anyone who can compete with cockroaches for their dinner, well, I take my hat off to them. But for the sake of following trends, here's one of my heros. A minute of silence please, for someone who never really achieved the silence he sought. Dear, sweet Arthur Rimbaud. He rented a room, once upon a time, in Paris. It didn't go so well. I think he got in trouble for urinating in his landlord's coffee. Totally inappropriate but worthy of mention for history's sake. Arthur was a poet and a genius, but then he went off to travel the world and ended up running guns in Ethiopia. ¶All I see is coincidence. Like how most of Washington is basically Ethiopia, and how there's people running around with guns here too and how Rimbaud's first book of poetry is entitled 'A Season in Hell'. Tell me about it. I think I'm gonna have to make a YouTube tribute video. With a soundtrack by Prodigy or Nitzer Ebb. Cool. ¶Wait. I just checked Wikipedia and they claim (in hypertext) that Rimbaud was the 'archetypal enfant terrible'. Whatever. He was just plain typical. All the crazy rebellious Europeans I know trade in their anarchist card by age 21 and forget the meaning of angst just in time to create over-coddled terrible infants of their own.
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