Category Archives: Color

Tits & ass.

Posted on by Dewey Lightfoot

The ambition of the ego
never will be satisfied.
It is quite sad in its emptiness –
always seeking more,
but never feeling fulfilled.

It is better to be bold than too circumspect, because fortune is of a sex…

…which likes not a tardy wooer and repulses all who are not ardent.

Only the spiritual light
from our higher self
will bring nourishment
catapulting us into a state
of balance, wholeness, and peace
our soul desires.

Letting go is love. Holding on is attachment. Love without depending.

Posted on by Dewey Lightfoot

Now and then it’s good to pause in our pursuit…

Wear a rubber band on your wrist,
and gently flick it when you start obsessing on angry thoughts.

This trains your mind to associate
that type of persistent negativity with something unpleasant.

According to the dictionary,
the antonyms of idealism are reality and authenticity.

…of happiness and just be happy.

Meditation and mindfulness.

Posted on by Dewey Lightfoot

Nippon-koku!

Stop.
Take a long, deep breath in and out.
In your mind say “in” as you breathe in and “out” as you breathe out
to ground yourself in the present moment.
Then, feel the ground beneath your feet.
Notice the way your clothes feel against your skin,
the wind against your face,
the sun on your cheeks.
Listen to the birds singing,
the rain falling around you,
the ticking of a nearby clock.
The more you practice the better you will get.
The key is not giving up.

Nihon-koku!

The look this evening is Alan Hollinghurst by Tom Ford on a budget with Chinatown hipster accoutrement. (I forgive you, asshole.)

Posted on by Dewey Lightfoot

You’ve a lot of sour grapes and no common sense.
If they don’t like you, it’s your fault, not theirs.
Go where they like you, where you like it.

Protect yourself and your vision, goals, and the climb upwards
by forgiving adversity and forgetting the wrongdoers.

These actions will allow you to go to the right room
and continue to move on or make better different decisions.

Feelings are neither decisions nor choices.

I don’t mean to seem like I care about material things. Like our social stats. I just want four walls and adobe slats for my boys.

Posted on by Dewey Lightfoot

What happens to you when your identity
constantly is challenged, taunted, corrected?
You adopt an identity that is pleasing to the masses,
however, you then are thrust into a society where
the two identities – one false and one repressed – are incongruous.

It’s just when your needs aren’t met that you act unfulfilled.
When your needs are met, you actually become less displeased
and more likely to excel in different areas of life.

He’s the kind of a fella to whom nice things just happen – and he survives.

Posted on by Dewey Lightfoot

Dewey entered the stratosphere
a poor little man ready to give it his all,
and did.
Really though, by contrast, he was sui generis,
this was part of the job, neither a blessing nor a curse.
Perhaps that’s why he never looked defeated,
unlike those who wilt under the spotlight.
He was as desiring as desirous,
with the gift of a thrillingly ungentlemanly appetite.
He was a great lover of food, of course.
Yet the appetite that appeared to drive,
at times even define him,
exceeded mere food to include everything,
and his consumption of all and then some was astonishment.
Living large proved a brilliant survival strategy
as well as something of a rebuke to the limits
of culture, humanity, and society – their formulas and false morality.
He embodied the excesses of life and he transcended them.
In the end, his genius was that he gave our world
everything it wanted from him,
and he did it by refusing
to become anyone’s motherfucking martyr.

Happy camper.

Posted on by Dewey Lightfoot

Dewey was a dreadnought of glamour withholding an elegant swan.
He was a man of instincts and almost violent passions.
He wore his vices (imperious) and his virtues (ambassadorial) for all to see.
His allure was a result not of impossible recognition or even splendor.
It was an inhuman mercy.
He was humanity.
He retained all that was recognizably real.
He was a sense of humor and a gigantic heart.
He was irresistible mayhem.
He was without vanity.
He transcended whatever else he was doing, whatever that didn’t look right.
You saw him.

Getting way more than you deserve.

Posted on by Dewey Lightfoot

This is the story of a society that falls down

and while it is falling,

it repeats to itself to hearten:

Thus far it’s all right, thus far it’s all right, thus far it’s all right.

You’re an insidious inhibitor of growth,

forever unquestioning,

forever mindlessly avid and self-exonerating,

forever wed to self-righteous certainties.

You dictate.

You have to go.

Bang-boom.

Nootropics.

Posted on by Dewey Lightfoot

I don’t want an orgy in Village People + OshKosh B’gosh leather.

Dewey buys νους nous and τρέπειν trepein
at his group therapy – the backroom of the Black Party.
The smart drugs alter the availability of his brain’s supply
of neurotransmitters, enzymes, and hormones,
by improving his brain’s oxygen supply,
by stimulating nerve growth.

These memory and cognitive enhancers improve
intelligence, motivation, attention, and concentration.
Dewey now sees meaningful patterns in large amounts
of disparate information – with no side effects.
And among his brethren, he now recognizes
the alert νους nous and gorged τρέπειν trepein
expression in their eyes.

I want a family and a mortgage and a Maserati.

The being of the gay: A revolutionary epiphany.

Posted on by Dewey Lightfoot

There’s still a lingering belief that gay culture
is inherently extroverted (ahem),
or that there’s even a gay culture (monolith).

It may interest some that there exist gay men
who are more interested
in catching the latest movie,
enjoying a cup of coffee,
playing video games,
or catching up on their booklist.”

Lightfoot, nothing special.

Posted on by Dewey Lightfoot

“What’s his name? Anyway, what’s he like – this dude that you’re having a relationship with as you put it?”
“His name’s Thierry. What’s wrong with putting it like that?”
“You don’t have to tell me about him. It’s none of my business, anyway.”
“No, I don’t mind telling you about him. He’s, um, he’s really, direct and, uh, emotional, and sincere – everything. I mean, we’ve got this real connection between us. We never lie to each other.”
“What? Never?”
“No. Never.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not trying to embarrass you.”
“I’m not embarrassed.”
“What are you going to do, then?”
“Do?”
“For a living.”
“Write novels.”
“Does it pay well?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t actually sold any yet.”
“Oh. How are you going to provide for your family then?”
“What family?”
“Oh, the one you’ll have one day.”
“Bloody hell. Give me time.”
“Why?”
“Well, because I’m, I’m still, you know, still having relationships.”
“What, more than one?”
“Well, not simultaneously, no.”
“Anyway, marriage is a relationship.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Well, you said you were going to have relationships and then get married as if they were two different things.”
“No, I didn’t say I was going to get married.”
“Well, no, I suppose you didn’t technically, no.”
“Too bloody right, I didn’t. I’ll never get married.”
“Oh, Dewey, I think you will.”
“Why?”
“Why? You’re not original enough not to.”

Excavation time: Sour grapes’ bitter end.

Posted on by Dewey Lightfoot

Dewey has had a bit of a rough time
(well, always),
drinking issues
(now – along with steady doses of prescriptions),
has not fared as well as he thought he would,
stuck in the wilderness of his head and self-control.
This is someone who’s had great failure,
great pain and anguish.
He must get right,
but he’s clueless –
he’s no resolutions specialist about this,
and nor is anyone else for him.
He’ll never quit
(prolly),
but he’s tired, exhausted –
and the impatient marks and scars
are lack of faith, trust
and seeing our world outside-in instead of inside-out.
He’s never been able to capture that moment
he had as a socialite eons ago
(the best time of life –
like some in high school or college,
all pathetic)
and now he’s going into the terror of middle age,
so you can identify with all those things.

It’s the idea of it being halftime.
You got half left,
it forces you to look back at your life
whether you like it or not.
It can be a disappointment.
You can relate it to Dewey and his life.
Men, like Dewey, typically exercise
their masculinity through what they do.
Their sense of virility manifests itself
through work and play. Or not.
But Dewey’s not dark or bitter.
He’s not.
If he were, it would be hidden
like all the other guys are hiding it,
trying to fucking step on one another’s heads.
Those are the people who are really that way
as they’re smiling.
As opposed to someone, like Dewey,
saying it like it is.”

Immovability like permanence, not constancy, not solidity, can’t fall – but also can’t soar. (It is so much easier to sink than it is to ascend.)

Posted on by Dewey Lightfoot

I grew up and matured into middle age
like a neglected weed –
ignorant of true and real liberty,
having no experience of it.

I used to see glimpses
of what was possible.

Now I see that
as other people’s reality.

Self-observe and adjust.

Aldous Huxley.

Posted on by Dewey Lightfoot

There will be, in the next generation or so, a pharmacological method of making people love their servitude, and producing dictatorship without tears, so to speak, producing a kind of painless concentration camp for entire societies,

so that people will in fact have their liberties taken away from them, but will rather enjoy it, because they will be distracted from any desire to rebel by propaganda or brainwashing, or brainwashing enhanced by pharmacological methods.

And this seems to be the final revolution.”

Masterpiece is a fancy word for tone deaf.

Posted on by Dewey Lightfoot

There are limits to Dewey: To be adaptable and understood and cared for, he needs, in certain ways you know of and are well aware of (duh), to be simplified. There is, quite simply, no way to fit all the nuances into your busy brain. He does, though, however, like anyone, have gorgeous moments, but the interior chambers of him are too vast, echoing with too many emotional crosscurrents. He, a glossy, furtive rooster with warmth, won’t make you swoon in empathy.

But the trouble with him, when he’s been around for this long not reaching beyond a raised and flat terrain of little variation, is that his beloved tropes start to look like tics. You don’t just enjoy them, like you may or may not have, you expect them. And so it’s harder for you to delight in Dewey in the way you once did. You get rid of him – with an Ides-of-March, insouciant swiftness. He has, instead, just become part of the wallpaper.”

A prose in detonation: Muscular, moody, simpatico, and not a little nuts.

Posted on by Dewey Lightfoot

“One of my old martial-art teachers used to say that if you enter a competition with the mindset of Well, I’m just going to do my best, and if I lose, no big deal, then you might as well step off the mat because you’re a loser…

…Needless to say that every race, competition, workout, or sparring session I’ve entered into since then, I’ve had the mindset of Today, I will dominate. Now sometimes I don’t, and I flat out do horribly, but then I say, Next time, I will have my revenge.”

The science friction of life and morality.

Posted on by Dewey Lightfoot

We are right to insist that emotional ties, social interaction, and the communal transmission of norms are essential in forming people for a decent life, and that habit, perception, and instinct form a large part of a person’s character. But there is moral and intellectual laziness in our sentimental devaluation of conscious reasoning, which is what we have to rely on when our emotions or our inherited norms give unclear or poorly grounded instructions.

Some groups are far better than others at indoctrinating functional norms and social skills. Children from disorganized, unstable communities have a much harder time acquiring the discipline to succeed in life. And a famous experiment conducted around 1970 demonstrated that the ability of four-year-olds to postpone gratification by leaving a marshmallow uneaten for a time as a condition of receiving a second marshmallow was a very good predictor of success in life.

The kids who could wait a full 15 minutes had, 13 years later, SAT scores that were 210 points higher than the kids who could wait only 30 seconds. Twenty years later, they had much higher college-completion rates, and 30 years later, they had much higher incomes. The kids who could not wait at all had much higher incarceration rates. They much more likely were to suffer from drug- and alcohol-addiction problems.”

The shift back and forth between reading and looking, object and idea, is the basic dynamic emphasized by this blog.

Posted on by Dewey Lightfoot

Dewey is a new kind of subject,
with an old history,
and you perceive him in stages:
First as words, a reading experience;
as you get closer, as a looking-at-life experience;
then, holistically, as a thinking experience.

If you linger over his life and art a little,
give yourself to it,
you’ll get something from it.
The temptation,
with his audacious fast-food pop bricolage,
is to breeze through him and this blog,
with your miasma,
but that’s like keeping your iPod on at a concert.

You get a sense of what’s going on,
but you’re preprogrammed and sticking with that.
Wrong move.”