Walking Drawings

Great is graffiti. Even better: animated graffiti! Graffiti is illegal, but it's a way for rebellious artists to take back their space and define it in their own
image(s). I have seen lots of beautiful graffiti in different parts of the world but not enough in Canada. More people should be more brazen with their spray cans!

This video was sent to me by my sister, who found it on, and also likes to visit Zefrank.com.

On the other hand, there are certain kinds of graffiti that some could go without. Toronto Sun reported some graffitti that wasn't quite as impressive to firemen in Toronto. They found blue paint splattered over a granite memorial commemorating fallen firemen, inspiring reactions such as "despicable" and "cowardly". They are pressuring the government to punish the vandals severely.

Part of me feels like they are being irrational though and reminds me of how some Muslims reacted with outrage when a cartoonist depicted Muhammed in one of the comics. They rioted, burned embassies, sent death threats to cartoonists, but what did it accomplish? I feel like spending millions of dollars to repair the memorials would be an equal waste of effort, especially considering it might have cost them an additional $5 to coat the granite with a cheap protective plastic covering in the first place.

Whenever freedom of expression and people's sensitivities are at odds we're forced to face the fact that someone's drawings, statements and actions will never mean the same thing to another person.

One man's terrorist is another man's graffiti artist.

What Epictetus Might Say

I realized that things can be a lot of fun, as long as you have variety, because, naturally, the universe is abundant.

Poster Girls

I am all for finding true love,
yet when we dress predators to disguise them as prey,
should we be surprised that it gets easy to be lured away by things that don't matter?
(Or those that don't care?)

Not only that but attraction gets diluted
in all the polluted neural pathways
distraction seems most suited by how the moon, off of the ocean, plays
In a reflection, can you see true beauty? Look closer.
(Is it returning your gaze?)

I want to find true love, but yet I can hardly stop staring,
when through a store window,
I see the erect nipples of a mannequin saying "hello!"
Some surprising compromise between a familiar friend and a strange saviour.
The store display entices, but I pass on as routine behaviour.

Cash is ass, or so we're taught, taught to buy and breed.
We starve because we can't eat bills, soul saturated in greed.
My imagination is all I have, my concentration breaks.
If there is no real girl for me there's only so much I can take.

(So)
I have a momentary arousing distraction in the pinstripe of the mannequin's pert form.
But it is nothing special.
Because we've replicated the female figure and mass produced it in plaster!
It's now the norm.
Our tough job is to distinguish reality and make genuine decisions based on it.
But beauty's diagrams are severed and scattered all over the sex-crazed streets on posters of teens posed in sheets.
(Somehow I feel cheated)

Is that how I have trouble finding one real live woman's body to hold throughout the night?

All these ads, telling me how to act.

I am stalked by a cold, two dimensional army of pornstars.

©Copyright SirBarrett 2008

Poetry