Search results for little girl raped video
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2008-04-21 17:25:47 Description: A 11 Year OLD girl raped repeatedly By A Judge Hickman who made the child have a baby we want the DNA and I am are not going away Grand Bank Nfld Across From St Pierre et miquelon Chief Justice (More) A 11 Year OLD girl raped repeatedly By A Judge Hickman who made the child have a baby we want the DNA and I am are not going away Grand Bank Nfld Across From St Pierre et miquelon Chief Justice Hickman of Nfld supreme court Raped A 11 year Old Girl For His Election gift at ,The Loyal orange Lodge Hid Judges Rape Of 11 year Old Girl Grand Bank NewFoundLand A samll town on the South west coast of Newfoundland next to St pierre et Miquelon This Family was abused and prosecuted By the whole town of Grand Bank Nfld For Reporting The abuse and incest in his family to the Authority doctors rcmp every body , The Kids were sold for anythings booze ,pills ,food ,clothing, anything to neighbors ,friend ,business people around town and the Minister of justice made the 11 year old kid pregnant we need the DNA And will not give up until this is dealt with the kid has no reason to lie .3 sisters one other brother reported the rapes to the rcmp repeatedly nothing was hear ever ,after each time The Chief Justice of Nfld supreme court Raped A 11 year old girl ,Repeatedly Raped A kid , impregnated her And Danny Williams still hiding it from Non Government Newfoundland. Chief Justice Hickman of Nfld supreme court Raped A 11 year Old Girl For His Election gift at ,The Loyal orange Lodge , during the winning election party Just after lunch time, Les Douglas Was on the door and keeped her 13 year old Brother out and wouldn,t allow him in but let the little 11 year old sister in 10 mins later the newly elected Chief Justices minster Hickman went opstairs with the child ,the 13 year old brother was stopped again by Les Douglas of grand bank Nfld who told her 13 year old Brother to get Out Of here you little Bastard and Mr Douglas closed the door Stopping the kid from yelling to his sister to come with him. His Mother Got A blind person pension To let chief justice hickman have his election gift rape of a child ,His Mother Was Holding the 11 year old childs arms while Chief Justice Hickman of Nfld supreme court Raped A 11 year Old Girl For His Election gift his mother continued to drive every day with a blind persons pension that was a gift for the rape the 11 year old kid got pregnant that day. Byron Prior's 40-year struggle to bring to justice high level political and legal figures in Newfoundland, Canada, who sexually abused his family. Country: Canada Judge Hickman Interests and Hobbies: as a country we have to put a end to Byron Prior's 40-year struggle with newfoundland government pedigree that has infested the province for ever this will end we are setting up a network to report the governments dirty secrets we will leave no family pedigree untouched the government of that place are Freemasons to the death thats the way it will be (Less)
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13, 09:22, 2008-07-19 16:25:26 Description: this is the video of the father of that poor little girl that was raped. The priest spoke also at the World Youth Day in Sydney. (More) this is the video of the father of that poor little girl that was raped. The priest spoke also at the World Youth Day in Sydney. (Less)
Channel: youtubeTags: Assault Bishop Cardinal Catholic committed Day Emma Foster George Melbourne Pell Pope Sexual suicide Sydney World Youth
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136, 04:02, 2008-04-21 16:15:47 Description: This was a project for our INSOCIO (Introduction to Sociology) class. The whole thing couldn't fit in YOUTUBE. I think I have to compress it and shiz. Anyways.. I just videotaped the music video (More) This was a project for our INSOCIO (Introduction to Sociology) class. The whole thing couldn't fit in YOUTUBE. I think I have to compress it and shiz. Anyways.. I just videotaped the music video part. Comment if you will, keep safe. Thanks! Oh, btw, the secrets, the people... are real. HAHA! Laguna beach, much? DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS: 1. I'm not a virgin anymore. 2. Deep inside, I really am sad. 3. I love hentai. 4. My parents doesn't know I have a boyfriend. 5. I am a devirginizer. 6. I love someone who is taken. 7. Seriously, I smoke weed. 8. Well, I stole a turtle in the school pond when I was in the 4th grade. 9. I punched my father in the face. 10. My dad is having an affair with another woman and I'm keeping it from my mom. 11. Gentle giant. 12. I sneak out of the house in the middle of the night to drink with my friends. 13. I'm such a crazy maniac. 14. My ex and I had sex at home and my parents doesn't know. 15. I had sex with two guys at the same time behind my boyfriend's back. 16. I love you but you don't know. 17. Something happened between me and my sister's friend. 18. 1st time to give a rose. 19. I used to like the cousin of the girl I'm courting now. 20. I was biting my nails till I was 25 y/o. 21. I do more than making out with my ex in the movie house. 22. Ooh, I got so wasted! Then, I got my dick sucked from someone I didn't like. 23. I like short shorts. 24. I'm a virgin. 25. I kill people. 26. I have a child already. 27. I kick some ass. 28. My family doesn't know I'm a frat boy. 29. I care to a girl who has a heavy heart. 30. I had sex with my best friend's girlfriend and he doesn't know. 31. 13 M.U.'s -- No Boyfriend 32. I did not pay for my last MRT ride. 33. I was almost raped. 34. I stab people. 35. I masturbated in a public place. -Nothing Follows- (Less)
Channel: youtubeTags: all-american cay dirty gelo insocio jane jil joshua kev little music patrick rejects secret the video
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9, 06:15, 2008-04-21 16:19:54 Description: Another collaboration with Rob - hope it's ok! :) I decided to try something a little different this time. I recorded the piano part first, then used it as a backing track. I filmed myself whilst (More) Another collaboration with Rob - hope it's ok! :) I decided to try something a little different this time. I recorded the piano part first, then used it as a backing track. I filmed myself whilst recording the vocals for this song, then added a bit of reverb afterwards. Here are the lyrics... Iceni Queen She was a striking woman Tall with long red hair Her voice commanded thousands She possessed a piercing glare She wore a golden necklace She stood so strong and lean Her people called her Boudica The great Iceni Queen Her husband ruled the kingdom When soldiers came from Rome They took the lands of Britain They took away our home They flogged the Queen of Britain And raped her daughters too They left them bruised and bleeding On the British morning dew She wore a golden necklace She stood so strong and lean Her people called her Boudica The great Iceni Queen Boudica called her warriors In fury never seen And 80,000 lying dead Before the Iceni Queen She wore a golden necklace She stood so strong and lean Her people called her Boudica The great Iceni Queen Suetonius came to face her And Boudica met defeat All Britain's hopes were lost In the Battle of Watling Street She wore a golden necklace She stood strong and lean Her people called her Boudica The great Iceni Queen Her people called her Boudica The great Iceni Queen © Holly Kirby & Rob Burcham 2008 Honors for This Video: #79 - Most Discussed (Today) - Music - United Kingdom #96 - Most Viewed (Today) - Music - United Kingdom #52 - Top Favorites (Today) - Music - United Kingdom #35 - Top Rated (Today) - Music - United Kingdom (Less)
Channel: youtubeTags: Boudica Boudicea celtic celts collaboration girl hollyk Iceni piano Queen rob singing unsigned
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22, 04:36, 2008-04-21 20:55:08 Description: This video is for Samantha and JonBenet, little girls who are dead. We dont know why JonBenet had to die but Samantha died because (well I think that this is the reason for the killing of little sam) (More) This video is for Samantha and JonBenet, little girls who are dead. We dont know why JonBenet had to die but Samantha died because (well I think that this is the reason for the killing of little sam) a man wanted to rape a little girl. After he raped Samantha he strangled her. In our memories they are still alive!!! Samantha Runnion 1996-2002 JonBenet Ramsey 1990-1996 RIP little angels We miss you and feel so sorry for you! (Less)
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27, 03:24, 2008-04-21 22:31:39 Description: It has come to my attention that a few YouTube members of Mohammed's death cult of peace and tolerance have been wandering through YouTube videos that criticize Islam and flagging them as quote (More) It has come to my attention that a few YouTube members of Mohammed's death cult of peace and tolerance have been wandering through YouTube videos that criticize Islam and flagging them as quote inappropriate unquote. The specific YouTube code of content that appears to be responsible for the removal of videos, and indeed the termination of entire accounts, appears to be a guideline that falls under YouTube's "Don't cross the line" precept. Quote "We encourage free speech and defend everyone's right to express unpopular points of view. But we don't permit hate speech which contains slurs or the malicious use of stereotypes intended to attack or demean a particular gender, sexual orientation, race, religion, or nationality" unquote. Unfortunately, this conduct code does not take into consideration the fact that many so-called stereotypes are valid, and that criticizing a religion is often not merely a good and noble thing to do, but also one's civic duty. The code uses the phrase quote "the malicious use of stereotypes" unquote, which further obfuscates the issue--- by what metric is malice measured, given an opinion is valid, or a spoken fact is true? Is there malice in pointing out the indisputable fact that Mohammed, the fake prophet of an apparently imaginary god, was a evil despicable fiend who raped a little nine-year-old girl? If one mentions the fact that Islamists have been known to butcher people for saying Islam is violent, in what contexts is that statement not malice, and in which contexts is that statement malicious? One may view the newspapers and see thousands of Muslims take to the streets in violent killing rages at the quote insult unquote of being called violent. Surely the irony has not been missed by YouTube video contributors: must video commentators ignore that Islamic violence, or ignore that irony, out of fear that their commentary will be perceived as quote malicious unquote? There is an excellent weekly pod cast, called Dogma Free America, wherein the latest news of religious tyranny, oppression, violence, and terror are commented upon. The web site is http://dogmafreeamerica.com If anyone doubts whether or not Islam is the religion of peace and tolerance or not, one need only listen to that pod cast. If a cult is dangerous, one must say it is dangerous. It is one's duty to do so. (Less)
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634, 02:41, 2008-04-22 09:25:51 Description: Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in (More) Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in Chicago, Illinois). The show contained poems and music from assorted musicins from Wisconsin, Ohio, Tennessee, New Mexico, and even Canada, as well as original sampled music, include the writings listed toward the bottom of this show explanation. But in this show, Janet Kuypers, because shw was exemplifying living in a big world (the title of the show), she drew a large chair, painted it onto a white canvas (which actually was a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together) and attached it to a wooden base, so she could literally sit in a drawing of a large chair (it was 60" wide, actually). The visual display of the artwork projected onto a large paper screen for this show (which once again was actually a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together)was a drawn TV, and inside the TV a bunch of Janet Kuypers photographs from around the world was shown in this "drawn" TV. Artwork included in the projected "television" display included: The Reischtag in Berlin Germany, Tiananmen Square in Beijing China, a building in Agrigento in Cicily Italy, Air Force One with President George H. W. Bush at Pease Air Force Base in Omaha, Nebraska, a downed airplane in Joliet, Illinois, an airplane in Naples Florida, the Arbeit Macht Frei gate at the Dachau Concentration Camp in Dachau Germany, Arches National Park in Utah, Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington Virginia, Bad Gastein Austria, as bamboo frest in Oahu Hawaii, a building in Bruxelles.Belgium, castles in Rome, the Chicago skyline from Lake Michigan with superimposed landmarks like an Egyptian pyramid and a building from India and the Eiffel Tower and Big Ben and Russian churches and a mountain from the Alps, the Colloseum in Rome, a mermaid statue in Copenhagen Denmark, the White Cliffs of Dover in England, the Eiffel Tower in Paris France, el Yunque tropical rain forest in Puerto Rico, Tallinn Estonia, Gettysburg Pennsylvania, a gondola in Venice Italy, the Great Wall of China, the Senate Square Cathedral in Helsinki Finland, highrises in Shanghai China, the Hollywood sign in California, hot strings in Wyoming, a destroyed house after Katrina in New Orleans Louisiana, a King Tut like human Egyptian statue in Paris France, the Last Vegas skyline, the Louvre, Luxembourg, Michael Stipe of R.E.M. in Urbana Illinois, a painted building in Montreal Canada, a lefe-side replica of the Parthenon in Nashville Tennessee, a glove statue in front of a church in Omaha Nebraska, a pagoda near Beijing China, salvages wall art work in Pompeii, the Pyramid of Cestius in Rome, St. Petersburg Russia, San Francisco, the Seasttle Space Needle in Washington, Siberia from the sky, a video still of shydiving near the Rockies in Longmont Colorado, the space shuttle in Cape Canaveral, the Statue of Liberty in New Jersey/New York, a stop sign in Mexico (that says "alto"), Stockholm Sweden, Olympic Natl. Park Temperate Rain Forest in Washington, the Temple of Vesta in Rome, the Vatican, and Zurich Switzerland. These are the writing included in the live show: the poem: Paranoia we sit here at dinner. I try to breathe. My hands rest on my thighs. I must watch to be sure, everything must be right: the silverware, small fork, large fork, plate, knife, large spoon, small spoon. Water glass. Wine glass. I know no one else sees them: the fish, the red fish, in the curtains along the wall. You have to watch them. My eyes always glance there. They are evil fish. They sit in the curtains, they wait, and then they come out. And the yogurt, the yogurt is the only thing that can save me from them. throw the yogurt, take a spoon, use your hands. Anything. And we sat there before dinner, and he ate his yogurt with his first spoon before I could stop him. How could you do this? How can you save yourself now? Will I have to save you again, do you even understand the danger — the prose: Man Who Talks Loud... Say Nothing I try to learn about the world, try to understand the world. While first traveling, I did a MidWest tour of poetry, then was in a Chicago poetry show at the National Poetry Slam in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I sell my performance art audio on iTunes & Naster, I try to share myself with the world, but I wonder if I'm actually getting through to anyone. I heard a Native American man, whose parents were from two different tribes (meaning that he could never truly have an allegiance with just one tribe), say that after he traveled extensively, he tried to tell his story to the people of either tribe, and no one wanted to even listen to him. They called him Ex-eh-ba-che, which means "man who talks loud... say nothing." Ex-eh-ba-che. "Man who talks loud... say nothing." Oh, what am I saying, I've been around the world, but I've never talked to a Native American. That was actually from a movie I saw, I don't even know if "Ex-eh-ba-che" is a real word or means anything. But... If I want to see something about the world around me, maybe I should turn on the tee vee, I mean, if news channels can have reporters in war zones, there's got to be something worth watching. Maybe I'll just get out the remote and turn on the tee vee, then press the play button and see what's out there in the world. — the poem: Fighting I Can Do I know these are normal things for me to be going through I know that I have been raped and beaten I know they've tried to kill me and lucky me, I survived I think I can survive everything they throw at me But as time wears on little pieces of this statue are chipped away everybody wants something, right? well, they've been taking from me and taking and taking and taking and my defenses are getting weaker and I don't know how much more fighting I can do — the poem: I Want you know what I want? i want a big house with filtered central air and i want a big lawn so i can recreate nature and i want a big fence so i'll know what's mine and i want the evergreens trimmed into neat little balls, because it has to look neat. plant everything in a row. and i want to spray chemicals on my lawn to keep the dandelions away and i want a plastic lobster bib over my fancy dress at the fancy restaurant and don't forget the hundred dollar champagne and i want a big fat car, and i want someone else to drive it and i want the two kids, one boy, one girl and i want a nanny to take care of them for me i want to be famous i want everyone to love me i want it i want it all — the prose: Adjusting Your Beliefs We lived in Pennsylvania for 6 months, and while I continued my work with cc&d magazine, I got a P.O. box in the town Intercourse Pennsylvania. And actually, it was an amish town, and we would go to the store there to stock up on spices, and the amish people who worked there were all short - Now, I know I'm tall, but when I say they were short I should also say that their heads looked child-like... that the people working there looked like they had a mild form, or early stages of, downs syndrome. We could only guess by looking at the faces of these people that the Amish had too severe a history of inbreeding, and no one new came into their community. And recently I was in Champaign to plant a tree, and we stopped at a mall and there was this hydro massage store in the mall - it was this temporary place that had booths set up for individuals to lay down in, and many jets of water pulsated into plastic sheets over the person's body, it was a massage thing that people could pay for. Now, I had seen things like this before, but I was told I should try this, you know, just splurge, so I was in this thing that looked like a tanning bed for your body with your head sticking out at the end, and John talked to a few girls there, because he noticed how they looked liked they were dressed in near Amish, or Mennonite, clothing. And he found out that these girls were in their late teens, and they came in from out of town on a bus trip; yes, they were Amish, but yes, this was a trip sponsored by their Amish community, and one of the girls said she was on this trip to hopefully find a husband. And it seems that they were doing this, they were allowing this much technology into the outskirts of their lives, to find someone else to have children with. Ah, the choices we make. The sacrifices we make to help our lives, or the things we are willing to destroy when faced with insurmountable decisions. — the poem: A Retired Policeman Talks About Suicides He's Seen As a cop, I remember one lady, we found her in her bathtub, she cut her throat. That's odd, for women, normally they take pills, they don't like to disfigure themselves. But she knew what she was doing, cutting her throat in a full bath. Less messy that way. Autopsy said she was full of barbiturates. She was a nurse, that explained how she knew how to do it, but then we found out that she was pregnant, too. And to top it off, her brother was a priest. — the prose: Technology and Communication (which is prose that has a bit of the poem "Communication '05" in it) Oh, I'm sorry. I was listening to my iPod. Oh, wait, let me see, maybe I can hook this up to play the music for you. You know, I was thinking about it - advancements in technology have been a wonderful thing, and many say it's brought the world closer together, have kept people more connected. And on some levels I can totally agree with that - I mean, I read submissions from email, saving paper and ink and postage, I keep magazines on line so people around the world can read good writing, I've even had musicians from Wisconsin, Ohio and Tennessee find my readings and set music to my words. But in the same respect, I sit all day at the same desk, staring at the web sites for the domain names I run, instead of actually meeting and working with people. I mean, at one point, the people i emailed the most lived in the same city as me, and were only a local call away. in fact, one of my friends lived a block-and-a-half away from me, on the same street as me, but i still emailed her as much as i'd call her, even though i could just walk over to her house and have an actual conversation with her. And even the phone, with cell phones you can carry a phone with you wherever you go, so you'll never be lonely, but it seems to give teenagers another reason to talk endlessly on the phone... And I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to attack someone at a bar, who is there with friends, who gets a walkie-talkie-style call from someone, and they take turns screaming their heads off to get little phrases to someone who couldn't even be there with them. I mean, the iPhone just came out, combining a cell phone with an iPod, as well as email and Internet web browsing. But some bits of technology allow you to tune the world out, like the iPod here. When people see these headphones on someone, they know that you've apparently found something bigger and better than them for their lives right now... But even without technology, when I go for walks every morning, I wear the iPod, but I also wear sunglasses, even if it's overcast, so no one knows if I am studying every person I pass. With a lot of the technology we have now, we can learn about the rest of the world - or we can tune out the rest of the world and ignore any news that doesn't fit in with what we want to believe. — the poem: The Carpet Factory, The Shoes i heard a story today about a little boy one of many who was enslaved by his country in child labor in this case he was working for a carpet factory he managed to escape he told his story to the world he was a hero at ten but the people from the factory held a grudge and today i heard that the little boy was shot and killed on the street he was twelve and then people complain to me when i buy shoes that are made in china now i have to think did somebody have to die for these will somebody have to die for these — the prose: Differences in China: children & trains Children in different parts of the world... I saw in China once a little boy outside, a toddler, drop his pants at the street side at a market and just start pissing on the sidewalk. And as I saw this, I saw that all the people there weren't even bothered by this... Someone explained to me that while they're little, toddler boys in China can go to the bathroom like that outside - but if he goes number 2, the mother has to pick up his feces (you know, like they were taking care of a dog). But on the trains in China, they had a television screen in every car, with clips from what seemed like "America's Funniest Home Videos." Well, I couldn't understand a thing anyone was saying in China on this show on the train, but you couldn't help but watch, and you couldn't help but laugh. It was a great means of bringing levity when you're on a public train, like when you're on your way to work every morning on the el. — the poem: Private Lives 2005 sitting on the el train i saw a middle-eastern man sitting across from me holding a large Zip-Loc bag of some sort of food paste, i couldn't tell, it looked like some sort of curry-filled food paste and the man looked unhappy, and after a few minutes i saw him open up the Zip-Loc bag, throw up into it, then close the bag again so, he was carrying his vomit with him on the el at least he had a bag he could seal it up with — the prose: Passport To Outer Space And a lot of us have experiences around the city, and I've tried to see the world, not just this continent, but 15 European countries, Russia, China... I've searched for these stories around the world, I've gotten my passport stamped like mad... but my sister told me about Don Stump, a friend of my dad's who ran a restaurant, well, his father-in-law apparently bought and had the rights to the space in outer space (you know, like all of the space beyond out atmosphere between planets and stars and comets and asteroids and stuff...). My sister even said that his father-in-law stamped the passports of the astronauts that went into outer space, since they were crossing the areas he owned. But Don Stump was pushed away from their house once, because at least two men from the FBI were there... Apparently Don's father-in-law was minting coins, it wasn't money that was valid anywhere, but it's illegal for U.S. residents to try to make any sort of profit this way, the way they might have potentially done. Now, Don and his wife and parents have passed away, so.... I guess there's no way I can pay them for having my passport stamped for going to outer space. But when you're up high in the Earth's atmosphere, a lot of places look the same. I mean, Siberia, with snow peaks and mountain lines along the eastern coast, looks like the Rockies in America in the winter. It's only when you get closer to the ground do you see the real differences. — parts of the poem: In The Air Chicago looks grand from the sky with this huge expanse of lake next to it, like civilization crept up as far as it could but finally had to stop. The power of nature stopping the power of mankind... Daylight, and the snow on the ground in the winter time looks dirty, too many cars have splashed mud on it as they drove by. And in the winter the sky always matches the shade of grey of the snow: fitting for the city of the Blues. Maybe the snow is already that color, that perfect shade of grey, when it falls from the sky in this city. When I'm in the air, I like to look out the window. Clouds look like cotton balls when you're above them, and when you're landing cars look like little ants, on a mission, bringing food back to their hill. And the streets look like veins, capillaries in some massive, monstrous body. And the farmlands look like little squares of colors. I wonder why each plot of land is a different color, what's growing there that makes them different. Or maybe it's that some of them are turning shades of red and brown because they are dying. And it always seems on a plane that you're stuck sitting next to someone that is either too wide for their seat, or is a businessman with his newspaper stretched out and his lap top computer on his little fold out table. Once, when I was on a flight back from D. C., a flight attendant walked by, stack of magazines in her hand, Time, Newsweek, Businessweek, and I stopped her, asking what magazines she had. And she replied, "Oh, these magazines are for men." This is a true story. And I asked her again what she had. I had already read Time, so I took Newsweek. — the poem: On An Airplane With A Frequent Flyer "I was once on a flight to Hawaii and I was waiting in line for the lavatory. There was always a line for a flight this long, you know, it seemed the washrooms were always on demand on a flight this long. So I finally got into the washroom, you know, and I looked into the toilet, and someone, well, lost the battle against a very healthy digestive system and left the "spoils" in the toilet, stuck. Maybe it didn't want to go down into the sewage tank where all the other waste from this long trip went to. Can you imagine all the stuff this airplane had to carry across the ocean? Well, anyway, so I saw this stuck in the toilet, and I went to the washroom, and when I was done i flushed and it still wouldn't budge, and so I opened the door and walked out into the aisle of the plane again. And there was this long line of people waiting to use this cramped little washroom, and I just wanted to tell them all, 'you know, I didn't do that.' And then it occurred to me that everyone, when they leave the bathroom on that plane, will think the exact same thing." — and the prose: Around the World, & sweet home Chicago And you know, I talk about travel around the world, but where we come from shows who we are. I mean, once I was on the other side of the world, at the Summer Palace, and an older man came over to me, knowing little english, and said, "My daughter and I wanted to know where you were from." So... not knowing how much geography they knew, I said, "I'm from the United States, in Illinois, in Chicago." And that's when this old man from the other side of the world said, "oh... my kind of town." And I started laughing, knowing the song, and then he said, "Frank Sinatra sang that." and I laughed more, then realizing that although I try to learn about the world, but my soul still hold on to my Chicago roots, other editors even comment on my style of writing being affected by being from the MidWest, being from Chicago... being from here affects my style and my art, oftentimes as much as my family history. I talk about learning stories from around the world, but I think we can also learn from stories right here, and as we live in this big world, it helps us to not feel small, but to grow larger than life. — For more information on this writing and other writings from Janet Kuypers, go to http://www.janetkuypers.com for more information and details. (Less)
Channel: youtubeTags: 17 2004 art big chair dreams Janet July Kuypers living monitor performance poem poetry prose reading show tv video world
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21, 02:41, 2008-04-22 10:38:39 Description: "Termenalia" is a term for a period which did not exist for it was too cold to have war *Spring cleaning is derived when you are to burn large sage to break off all your hexxxed out (More) "Termenalia" is a term for a period which did not exist for it was too cold to have war *Spring cleaning is derived when you are to burn large sage to break off all your hexxxed out phantozmix issues* Video is intended for all those who remember these Bvll street Immaginarium days when it was only local groups/fictional groups & for those who have traveled to play at current day Immaginarium located just outside a huanted swamp to see where everything originally stemmed from* However : several other Immaginariums* Only one actually deemed such/Kxrsx Gx Bxxx's 2002 studio domain where MN proposed devised entitle "Pure Enjoyment" * Others where equally intended as public delimna devices for alter destinty decour unto oddity music/amusic stages* All decour provided by MD initial obsessing into Envelopex/bearthing "Upholstryguiest" orientation ideals to becoming one to your environmeant* Video starts at front door which is barrakaded, listen~ doorbell is a constantly humming gutted out air acordian organ* "Red Room" holds most powerful desire magic* "Exorcist" reference & spider umbrella above it are to South mother who lost it as a little girl upon seeing it* Inspirmazing sndtrk record* Italian Twin Peaks postdoor is a reference to members from "Avoid the band" {pre KGB experiment in science} losing it over their episodes obsessions* It hangs mounted before a red & blue wood chip which was ripped from an enormous wall to keep non payers out when MD/7117/3/PJ Sparkles travelled up to NY in '99 in a name ov rxnfuxxxnfuxxxnrollz & refusal to accept what marketing stratagismzizms bastardizing Woodstock had become* Although it was rioted//looted/raped/pillaged PJ & MD was kicked out for trying to start a bon fire during Megadeath as a joke, only to sneek back in 10 miles later to a dozen bon fires during a Jimi James tribute, which quickly escalated into a full scale riot* As a commune zine was being pawned on MD, 18 wheelers was igniting about a football field away* Selling looted memoravelia to NYC people as suvaneirs was how they afforded their way home* Weapons alter functions as an anttenae* It would later go on to hold an "oven" underneath, which was a chest&droors which kept books inside* Books' contents where to project through a specific arc welding inspired motion & absorbed to ????? through osmosis* Structure & antenae procedure reoccurs in almost half immaginary visual art as well as sacred imbalance ancient/reinasance paintings & general non art intended blueprints such as $$$ome who have seen it happen accredit it to paranormal around immaginary archetctures* Weapons made in '99 & where intended to be used by triple/quadroople/quintapentaphon black belts exuasted from their weaponry* Each is based from a very spiral motion* Below is Immaginariums sound board : still free to anyone who is willing to make it functional as a board or convert it to an analog synth under a simple condition Pure Injoymeant can use it for one session* Monitor in room is for stage area* Green frame & roses is a shrine to JMJ drawn by MD in 2000 where he junxtiposed DMC & Shiva* Second room has a chair which was for sale* It is an attempt to complete they who sit upon it to Immaginarium, as it is partially composed from a rug which still functions as a rug as it spills over & thus more so merely part ov zast haus* Guitar alter is comprised from several broken guitars, destroyed by sucidal outbursts from friends* It haves structures as congruent as weapons' antenae* B stumbles in here, yet often it is a homeless man, a common occurance being only a block from PHA* Immaginarium's porch served often as a homeless shelter* D.Day & M.Day would give private amusical deformances for them in wee hours as they slept on a bed out front* Final room is MD's interactive room set up by using light show devices* Some bought from shady swindle deals, some built by Beyond* Although you can hear what's happening to some degree, sadly there is not an acurate demonstration* Four settings would alternate on a programmed timer* Basically things spin /walk /pace rabiddly, then lights fall & power tools on their backs upon hard flat marble floors would come on, followed by flashing vertigo lights followed by a random factor setting which can not be written upon internets* Termenalia is a beginning for KGB branching away from attempting to write epic amusical decompisitions & explore electronics & consider live songs less like playing numbers more like commensing light & sound demonstrations as lighting perameter settings would soon become an actual instrument as colour & lighting representations would often dictate when songs would end & change through sets, getting from song to song through interludes devised souly for changing pedal/sampler/midi/rack/board/coffee mug & swashlestick settings* archival date March 23rd 2004* (Less)
Channel: youtubeTags: "interior decorating"
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254, 01:54, 2008-04-22 16:28:13 Description: Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in (More) Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in Chicago, Illinois). The show contained poems and music from assorted musicins from Wisconsin, Ohio, Tennessee, New Mexico, and even Canada, as well as original sampled music, include the writings listed toward the bottom of this show explanation. But in this show, Janet Kuypers, because shw was exemplifying living in a big world (the title of the show), she drew a large chair, painted it onto a white canvas (which actually was a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together) and attached it to a wooden base, so she could literally sit in a drawing of a large chair (it was 60" wide, actually). The visual display of the artwork projected onto a large paper screen for this show (which once again was actually a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together)was a drawn TV, and inside the TV a bunch of Janet Kuypers photographs from around the world was shown in this "drawn" TV. Artwork included in the projected "television" display included: The Reischtag in Berlin Germany, Tiananmen Square in Beijing China, a building in Agrigento in Cicily Italy, Air Force One with President George H. W. Bush at Pease Air Force Base in Omaha, Nebraska, a downed airplane in Joliet, Illinois, an airplane in Naples Florida, the Arbeit Macht Frei gate at the Dachau Concentration Camp in Dachau Germany, Arches National Park in Utah, Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington Virginia, Bad Gastein Austria, as bamboo frest in Oahu Hawaii, a building in Bruxelles.Belgium, castles in Rome, the Chicago skyline from Lake Michigan with superimposed landmarks like an Egyptian pyramid and a building from India and the Eiffel Tower and Big Ben and Russian churches and a mountain from the Alps, the Colloseum in Rome, a mermaid statue in Copenhagen Denmark, the White Cliffs of Dover in England, the Eiffel Tower in Paris France, el Yunque tropical rain forest in Puerto Rico, Tallinn Estonia, Gettysburg Pennsylvania, a gondola in Venice Italy, the Great Wall of China, the Senate Square Cathedral in Helsinki Finland, highrises in Shanghai China, the Hollywood sign in California, hot strings in Wyoming, a destroyed house after Katrina in New Orleans Louisiana, a King Tut like human Egyptian statue in Paris France, the Last Vegas skyline, the Louvre, Luxembourg, Michael Stipe of R.E.M. in Urbana Illinois, a painted building in Montreal Canada, a lefe-side replica of the Parthenon in Nashville Tennessee, a glove statue in front of a church in Omaha Nebraska, a pagoda near Beijing China, salvages wall art work in Pompeii, the Pyramid of Cestius in Rome, St. Petersburg Russia, San Francisco, the Seasttle Space Needle in Washington, Siberia from the sky, a video still of shydiving near the Rockies in Longmont Colorado, the space shuttle in Cape Canaveral, the Statue of Liberty in New Jersey/New York, a stop sign in Mexico (that says "alto"), Stockholm Sweden, Olympic Natl. Park Temperate Rain Forest in Washington, the Temple of Vesta in Rome, the Vatican, and Zurich Switzerland. These are the writing included in the live show: the poem: Paranoia we sit here at dinner. I try to breathe. My hands rest on my thighs. I must watch to be sure, everything must be right: the silverware, small fork, large fork, plate, knife, large spoon, small spoon. Water glass. Wine glass. I know no one else sees them: the fish, the red fish, in the curtains along the wall. You have to watch them. My eyes always glance there. They are evil fish. They sit in the curtains, they wait, and then they come out. And the yogurt, the yogurt is the only thing that can save me from them. throw the yogurt, take a spoon, use your hands. Anything. And we sat there before dinner, and he ate his yogurt with his first spoon before I could stop him. How could you do this? How can you save yourself now? Will I have to save you again, do you even understand the danger — the prose: Man Who Talks Loud... Say Nothing I try to learn about the world, try to understand the world. While first traveling, I did a MidWest tour of poetry, then was in a Chicago poetry show at the National Poetry Slam in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I sell my performance art audio on iTunes & Naster, I try to share myself with the world, but I wonder if I'm actually getting through to anyone. I heard a Native American man, whose parents were from two different tribes (meaning that he could never truly have an allegiance with just one tribe), say that after he traveled extensively, he tried to tell his story to the people of either tribe, and no one wanted to even listen to him. They called him Ex-eh-ba-che, which means "man who talks loud... say nothing." Ex-eh-ba-che. "Man who talks loud... say nothing." Oh, what am I saying, I've been around the world, but I've never talked to a Native American. That was actually from a movie I saw, I don't even know if "Ex-eh-ba-che" is a real word or means anything. But... If I want to see something about the world around me, maybe I should turn on the tee vee, I mean, if news channels can have reporters in war zones, there's got to be something worth watching. Maybe I'll just get out the remote and turn on the tee vee, then press the play button and see what's out there in the world. — the poem: Fighting I Can Do I know these are normal things for me to be going through I know that I have been raped and beaten I know they've tried to kill me and lucky me, I survived I think I can survive everything they throw at me But as time wears on little pieces of this statue are chipped away everybody wants something, right? well, they've been taking from me and taking and taking and taking and my defenses are getting weaker and I don't know how much more fighting I can do — the poem: I Want you know what I want? i want a big house with filtered central air and i want a big lawn so i can recreate nature and i want a big fence so i'll know what's mine and i want the evergreens trimmed into neat little balls, because it has to look neat. plant everything in a row. and i want to spray chemicals on my lawn to keep the dandelions away and i want a plastic lobster bib over my fancy dress at the fancy restaurant and don't forget the hundred dollar champagne and i want a big fat car, and i want someone else to drive it and i want the two kids, one boy, one girl and i want a nanny to take care of them for me i want to be famous i want everyone to love me i want it i want it all — the prose: Adjusting Your Beliefs We lived in Pennsylvania for 6 months, and while I continued my work with cc&d magazine, I got a P.O. box in the town Intercourse Pennsylvania. And actually, it was an amish town, and we would go to the store there to stock up on spices, and the amish people who worked there were all short - Now, I know I'm tall, but when I say they were short I should also say that their heads looked child-like... that the people working there looked like they had a mild form, or early stages of, downs syndrome. We could only guess by looking at the faces of these people that the Amish had too severe a history of inbreeding, and no one new came into their community. And recently I was in Champaign to plant a tree, and we stopped at a mall and there was this hydro massage store in the mall - it was this temporary place that had booths set up for individuals to lay down in, and many jets of water pulsated into plastic sheets over the person's body, it was a massage thing that people could pay for. Now, I had seen things like this before, but I was told I should try this, you know, just splurge, so I was in this thing that looked like a tanning bed for your body with your head sticking out at the end, and John talked to a few girls there, because he noticed how they looked liked they were dressed in near Amish, or Mennonite, clothing. And he found out that these girls were in their late teens, and they came in from out of town on a bus trip; yes, they were Amish, but yes, this was a trip sponsored by their Amish community, and one of the girls said she was on this trip to hopefully find a husband. And it seems that they were doing this, they were allowing this much technology into the outskirts of their lives, to find someone else to have children with. Ah, the choices we make. The sacrifices we make to help our lives, or the things we are willing to destroy when faced with insurmountable decisions. — the poem: A Retired Policeman Talks About Suicides He's Seen As a cop, I remember one lady, we found her in her bathtub, she cut her throat. That's odd, for women, normally they take pills, they don't like to disfigure themselves. But she knew what she was doing, cutting her throat in a full bath. Less messy that way. Autopsy said she was full of barbiturates. She was a nurse, that explained how she knew how to do it, but then we found out that she was pregnant, too. And to top it off, her brother was a priest. — the prose: Technology and Communication (which is prose that has a bit of the poem "Communication '05" in it) Oh, I'm sorry. I was listening to my iPod. Oh, wait, let me see, maybe I can hook this up to play the music for you. You know, I was thinking about it - advancements in technology have been a wonderful thing, and many say it's brought the world closer together, have kept people more connected. And on some levels I can totally agree with that - I mean, I read submissions from email, saving paper and ink and postage, I keep magazines on line so people around the world can read good writing, I've even had musicians from Wisconsin, Ohio and Tennessee find my readings and set music to my words. But in the same respect, I sit all day at the same desk, staring at the web sites for the domain names I run, instead of actually meeting and working with people. I mean, at one point, the people i emailed the most lived in the same city as me, and were only a local call away. in fact, one of my friends lived a block-and-a-half away from me, on the same street as me, but i still emailed her as much as i'd call her, even though i could just walk over to her house and have an actual conversation with her. And even the phone, with cell phones you can carry a phone with you wherever you go, so you'll never be lonely, but it seems to give teenagers another reason to talk endlessly on the phone... And I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to attack someone at a bar, who is there with friends, who gets a walkie-talkie-style call from someone, and they take turns screaming their heads off to get little phrases to someone who couldn't even be there with them. I mean, the iPhone just came out, combining a cell phone with an iPod, as well as email and Internet web browsing. But some bits of technology allow you to tune the world out, like the iPod here. When people see these headphones on someone, they know that you've apparently found something bigger and better than them for their lives right now... But even without technology, when I go for walks every morning, I wear the iPod, but I also wear sunglasses, even if it's overcast, so no one knows if I am studying every person I pass. With a lot of the technology we have now, we can learn about the rest of the world - or we can tune out the rest of the world and ignore any news that doesn't fit in with what we want to believe. — the poem: The Carpet Factory, The Shoes i heard a story today about a little boy one of many who was enslaved by his country in child labor in this case he was working for a carpet factory he managed to escape he told his story to the world he was a hero at ten but the people from the factory held a grudge and today i heard that the little boy was shot and killed on the street he was twelve and then people complain to me when i buy shoes that are made in china now i have to think did somebody have to die for these will somebody have to die for these — the prose: Differences in China: children & trains Children in different parts of the world... I saw in China once a little boy outside, a toddler, drop his pants at the street side at a market and just start pissing on the sidewalk. And as I saw this, I saw that all the people there weren't even bothered by this... Someone explained to me that while they're little, toddler boys in China can go to the bathroom like that outside - but if he goes number 2, the mother has to pick up his feces (you know, like they were taking care of a dog). But on the trains in China, they had a television screen in every car, with clips from what seemed like "America's Funniest Home Videos." Well, I couldn't understand a thing anyone was saying in China on this show on the train, but you couldn't help but watch, and you couldn't help but laugh. It was a great means of bringing levity when you're on a public train, like when you're on your way to work every morning on the el. — the poem: Private Lives 2005 sitting on the el train i saw a middle-eastern man sitting across from me holding a large Zip-Loc bag of some sort of food paste, i couldn't tell, it looked like some sort of curry-filled food paste and the man looked unhappy, and after a few minutes i saw him open up the Zip-Loc bag, throw up into it, then close the bag again so, he was carrying his vomit with him on the el at least he had a bag he could seal it up with — the prose: Passport To Outer Space And a lot of us have experiences around the city, and I've tried to see the world, not just this continent, but 15 European countries, Russia, China... I've searched for these stories around the world, I've gotten my passport stamped like mad... but my sister told me about Don Stump, a friend of my dad's who ran a restaurant, well, his father-in-law apparently bought and had the rights to the space in outer space (you know, like all of the space beyond out atmosphere between planets and stars and comets and asteroids and stuff...). My sister even said that his father-in-law stamped the passports of the astronauts that went into outer space, since they were crossing the areas he owned. But Don Stump was pushed away from their house once, because at least two men from the FBI were there... Apparently Don's father-in-law was minting coins, it wasn't money that was valid anywhere, but it's illegal for U.S. residents to try to make any sort of profit this way, the way they might have potentially done. Now, Don and his wife and parents have passed away, so.... I guess there's no way I can pay them for having my passport stamped for going to outer space. But when you're up high in the Earth's atmosphere, a lot of places look the same. I mean, Siberia, with snow peaks and mountain lines along the eastern coast, looks like the Rockies in America in the winter. It's only when you get closer to the ground do you see the real differences. — parts of the poem: In The Air Chicago looks grand from the sky with this huge expanse of lake next to it, like civilization crept up as far as it could but finally had to stop. The power of nature stopping the power of mankind... Daylight, and the snow on the ground in the winter time looks dirty, too many cars have splashed mud on it as they drove by. And in the winter the sky always matches the shade of grey of the snow: fitting for the city of the Blues. Maybe the snow is already that color, that perfect shade of grey, when it falls from the sky in this city. When I'm in the air, I like to look out the window. Clouds look like cotton balls when you're above them, and when you're landing cars look like little ants, on a mission, bringing food back to their hill. And the streets look like veins, capillaries in some massive, monstrous body. And the farmlands look like little squares of colors. I wonder why each plot of land is a different color, what's growing there that makes them different. Or maybe it's that some of them are turning shades of red and brown because they are dying. And it always seems on a plane that you're stuck sitting next to someone that is either too wide for their seat, or is a businessman with his newspaper stretched out and his lap top computer on his little fold out table. Once, when I was on a flight back from D. C., a flight attendant walked by, stack of magazines in her hand, Time, Newsweek, Businessweek, and I stopped her, asking what magazines she had. And she replied, "Oh, these magazines are for men." This is a true story. And I asked her again what she had. I had already read Time, so I took Newsweek. — the poem: On An Airplane With A Frequent Flyer "I was once on a flight to Hawaii and I was waiting in line for the lavatory. There was always a line for a flight this long, you know, it seemed the washrooms were always on demand on a flight this long. So I finally got into the washroom, you know, and I looked into the toilet, and someone, well, lost the battle against a very healthy digestive system and left the "spoils" in the toilet, stuck. Maybe it didn't want to go down into the sewage tank where all the other waste from this long trip went to. Can you imagine all the stuff this airplane had to carry across the ocean? Well, anyway, so I saw this stuck in the toilet, and I went to the washroom, and when I was done i flushed and it still wouldn't budge, and so I opened the door and walked out into the aisle of the plane again. And there was this long line of people waiting to use this cramped little washroom, and I just wanted to tell them all, 'you know, I didn't do that.' And then it occurred to me that everyone, when they leave the bathroom on that plane, will think the exact same thing." — and the prose: Around the World, & sweet home Chicago And you know, I talk about travel around the world, but where we come from shows who we are. I mean, once I was on the other side of the world, at the Summer Palace, and an older man came over to me, knowing little english, and said, "My daughter and I wanted to know where you were from." So... not knowing how much geography they knew, I said, "I'm from the United States, in Illinois, in Chicago." And that's when this old man from the other side of the world said, "oh... my kind of town." And I started laughing, knowing the song, and then he said, "Frank Sinatra sang that." and I laughed more, then realizing that although I try to learn about the world, but my soul still hold on to my Chicago roots, other editors even comment on my style of writing being affected by being from the MidWest, being from Chicago... being from here affects my style and my art, oftentimes as much as my family history. I talk about learning stories from around the world, but I think we can also learn from stories right here, and as we live in this big world, it helps us to not feel small, but to grow larger than life. — For more information on this writing and other writings from Janet Kuypers, go to http://www.janetkuypers.com for more information and details. (Less)
Channel: youtubeTags: 17 2004 art big chair dreams Janet July Kuypers living monitor performance poem poetry prose reading show tv video world
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165, 02:41, 2007-07-25 12:33:34 Description: Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in (More) Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in Chicago, Illinois). The show contained poems and music from assorted musicins from Wisconsin, Ohio, Tennessee, New Mexico, and even Canada, as well as original sampled music, include the writings listed toward the bottom of this show explanation. But in this show, Janet Kuypers, because shw was exemplifying living in a big world (the title of the show), she drew a large chair, painted it onto a white canvas (which actually was a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together) and attached it to a wooden base, so she could literally sit in a drawing of a large chair (it was 60" wide, actually). The visual display of the artwork projected onto a large paper screen for this show (which once again was actually a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together)was a drawn TV, and inside the TV a bunch of Janet Kuypers photographs from around the world was shown in this "drawn" TV.
Artwork included in the projected "television" display included:
The Reischtag in Berlin Germany, Tiananmen Square in Beijing China, a building in Agrigento in Cicily Italy, Air Force One with President George H. W. Bush at Pease Air Force Base in Omaha, Nebraska, a downed airplane in Joliet, Illinois, an airplane in Naples Florida, the Arbeit Macht Frei gate at the Dachau Concentration Camp in Dachau Germany, Arches National Park in Utah, Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington Virginia, Bad Gastein Austria, as bamboo frest in Oahu Hawaii, a building in Bruxelles.Belgium, castles in Rome, the Chicago skyline from Lake Michigan with superimposed landmarks like an Egyptian pyramid and a building from India and the Eiffel Tower and Big Ben and Russian churches and a mountain from the Alps, the Colloseum in Rome, a mermaid statue in Copenhagen Denmark, the White Cliffs of Dover in England, the Eiffel Tower in Paris France, el Yunque tropical rain forest in Puerto Rico, Tallinn Estonia, Gettysburg Pennsylvania, a gondola in Venice Italy, the Great Wall of China, the Senate Square Cathedral in Helsinki Finland, highrises in Shanghai China, the Hollywood sign in California, hot strings in Wyoming, a destroyed house after Katrina in New Orleans Louisiana, a King Tut like human Egyptian statue in Paris France, the Last Vegas skyline, the Louvre, Luxembourg, Michael Stipe of R.E.M. in Urbana Illinois, a painted building in Montreal Canada, a lefe-side replica of the Parthenon in Nashville Tennessee, a glove statue in front of a church in Omaha Nebraska, a pagoda near Beijing China, salvages wall art work in Pompeii, the Pyramid of Cestius in Rome, St. Petersburg Russia, San Francisco, the Seasttle Space Needle in Washington, Siberia from the sky, a video still of shydiving near the Rockies in Longmont Colorado, the space shuttle in Cape Canaveral, the Statue of Liberty in New Jersey/New York, a stop sign in Mexico (that says "alto"), Stockholm Sweden, Olympic Natl. Park Temperate Rain Forest in Washington, the Temple of Vesta in Rome, the Vatican, and Zurich Switzerland.
These are the writing included in the live show:
the poem: Paranoia
we sit here at dinner.
I try to breathe.
My hands rest on my thighs.
I must watch to be sure,
everything must be right:
the silverware, small fork,
large fork, plate, knife,
large spoon, small spoon.
Water glass. Wine glass.
I know no one else sees them:
the fish, the red fish, in
the curtains along the wall.
You have to watch them.
My eyes always glance there.
They are evil fish. They sit
in the curtains, they wait,
and then they come out.
And the yogurt, the yogurt
is the only thing that can
save me from them. throw
the yogurt, take a spoon,
use your hands. Anything.
And we sat there before
dinner, and he ate his
yogurt with his first spoon
before I could stop him.
How could you do this? How
can you save yourself now?
Will I have to save you again,
do you even understand
the danger
—
the prose: Man Who Talks Loud... Say Nothing
I try to learn about the world, try to understand the world. While first traveling, I did a MidWest tour of poetry, then was in a Chicago poetry show at the National Poetry Slam in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I sell my performance art audio on iTunes & Naster, I try to share myself with the world, but I wonder if I'm actually getting through to anyone.
I heard a Native American man, whose parents were from two different tribes (meaning that he could never truly have an allegiance with just one tribe), say that after he traveled extensively, he tried to tell his story to the people of either tribe, and no one wanted to even listen to him. They called him Ex-eh-ba-che, which means "man who talks loud... say nothing."
Ex-eh-ba-che.
"Man who talks loud... say nothing."
Oh, what am I saying, I've been around the world, but I've never talked to a Native American. That was actually from a movie I saw, I don't even know if "Ex-eh-ba-che" is a real word or means anything.
But... If I want to see something about the world around me, maybe I should turn on the tee vee, I mean, if news channels can have reporters in war zones, there's got to be something worth watching. Maybe I'll just get out the remote and turn on the tee vee, then press the play button and see what's out there in the world.
—
the poem: Fighting I Can Do
I know these are normal things
for me to be going through
I know that I have been raped
and beaten
I know they've tried to kill me
and lucky me, I survived
I think I can survive
everything they throw at me
But as time wears on
little pieces of this statue are chipped away
everybody wants something, right?
well, they've been taking from me
and taking
and taking
and taking
and my defenses are getting weaker
and I don't know how much more
fighting
I can do
—
the poem: I Want
you know what I want?
i want a big house with filtered central air
and i want a big lawn so i can recreate nature
and i want a big fence so i'll know what's mine
and i want the evergreens trimmed into neat little
balls, because it has to look neat. plant everything
in a row.
and i want to spray chemicals on my lawn
to keep the dandelions away
and i want a plastic lobster bib
over my fancy dress at the fancy restaurant
and don't forget the hundred dollar champagne
and i want a big fat car, and i want
someone else to drive it
and i want the two kids, one boy, one girl
and i want a nanny to take care of them for me
i want to be famous
i want everyone to love me
i want it
i want it all
—
the prose: Adjusting Your Beliefs
We lived in Pennsylvania for 6 months, and while I continued my work with cc&d magazine, I got a P.O. box in the town Intercourse Pennsylvania. And actually, it was an amish town, and we would go to the store there to stock up on spices, and the amish people who worked there were all short -
Now, I know I'm tall, but when I say they were short I should also say that their heads looked child-like... that the people working there looked like they had a mild form, or early stages of, downs syndrome. We could only guess by looking at the faces of these people that the Amish had too severe a history of inbreeding, and no one new came into their community.
And recently I was in Champaign to plant a tree, and we stopped at a mall and there was this hydro massage store in the mall - it was this temporary place that had booths set up for individuals to lay down in, and many jets of water pulsated into plastic sheets over the person's body, it was a massage thing that people could pay for. Now, I had seen things like this before, but I was told I should try this, you know, just splurge, so I was in this thing that looked like a tanning bed for your body with your head sticking out at the end, and John talked to a few girls there, because he noticed how they looked liked they were dressed in near Amish, or Mennonite, clothing. And he found out that these girls were in their late teens, and they came in from out of town on a bus trip; yes, they were Amish, but yes, this was a trip sponsored by their Amish community, and one of the girls said she was on this trip to hopefully find a husband.
And it seems that they were doing this, they were allowing this much technology into the outskirts of their lives, to find someone else to have children with.
Ah, the choices we make. The sacrifices we make to help our lives, or the things we are willing to destroy when faced with insurmountable decisions.
—
the poem: A Retired Policeman Talks About Suicides He's Seen
As a cop, I remember one lady,
we found her in her bathtub,
she cut her throat. That's odd,
for women, normally they take pills,
they don't like to disfigure themselves. But she knew what she was
doing, cutting her throat in a full bath.
Less messy that way. Autopsy said
she was full of barbiturates. She was
a nurse, that explained how she knew
how to do it, but then we found out
that she was pregnant, too. And to top
it off, her brother was a priest.
—
the prose: Technology and Communication (which is prose that has a bit of the poem "Communication '05" in it)
Oh, I'm sorry. I was listening to my iPod.
Oh, wait, let me see, maybe I can hook this up to play the music for you.
You know, I was thinking about it - advancements in technology have been a wonderful thing, and many say it's brought the world closer together, have kept people more connected. And on some levels I can totally agree with that - I mean, I read submissions from email, saving paper and ink and postage, I keep magazines on line so people around the world can read good writing, I've even had musicians from Wisconsin, Ohio and Tennessee find my readings and set music to my words.
But in the same respect, I sit all day at the same desk, staring at the web sites for the domain names I run, instead of actually meeting and working with people.
I mean, at one point, the people i emailed the most
lived in the same city as me, and were only a local call away.
in fact, one of my friends lived a block-and-a-half away from me,
on the same street as me, but
i still emailed her as much as i'd call her,
even though i could just walk over to her house
and have an actual conversation with her.
And even the phone, with cell phones you can carry a phone with you wherever you go, so you'll never be lonely, but it seems to give teenagers another reason to talk endlessly on the phone... And I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to attack someone at a bar, who is there with friends, who gets a walkie-talkie-style call from someone, and they take turns screaming their heads off to get little phrases to someone who couldn't even be there with them.
I mean, the iPhone just came out, combining a cell phone with an iPod, as well as email and Internet web browsing. But some bits of technology allow you to tune the world out, like the iPod here. When people see these headphones on someone, they know that you've apparently found something bigger and better than them for their lives right now... But even without technology, when I go for walks every morning, I wear the iPod, but I also wear sunglasses, even if it's overcast, so no one knows if I am studying every person I pass. With a lot of the technology we have now, we can learn about the rest of the world - or we can tune out the rest of the world and ignore any news that doesn't fit in with what we want to believe.
—
the poem: The Carpet Factory, The Shoes
i heard a story today
about a little boy
one of many who was enslaved
by his country
in child labor
in this case
he was working
for a carpet factory
he managed to escape
he told his story
to the world
he was a hero at ten
but the people from the factory
held a grudge
and today i heard
that the little boy
was shot and killed
on the street
he was twelve
and then people complain to me
when i buy shoes
that are made in china
now i have to think
did somebody
have to die for these
will somebody have to die
for these
—
the prose: Differences in China: children & trains
Children in different parts of the world... I saw in China once a little boy outside, a toddler, drop his pants at the street side at a market and just start pissing on the sidewalk. And as I saw this, I saw that all the people there weren't even bothered by this... Someone explained to me that while they're little, toddler boys in China can go to the bathroom like that outside - but if he goes number 2, the mother has to pick up his feces (you know, like they were taking care of a dog).
But on the trains in China, they had a television screen in every car, with clips from what seemed like "America's Funniest Home Videos." Well, I couldn't understand a thing anyone was saying in China on this show on the train, but you couldn't help but watch, and you couldn't help but laugh. It was a great means of bringing levity when you're on a public train, like when you're on your way to work every morning on the el.
—
the poem: Private Lives 2005
sitting on the el train
i saw a middle-eastern man
sitting across from me
holding a large Zip-Loc bag
of some sort of food paste,
i couldn't tell,
it looked like some sort of
curry-filled food paste
and the man looked unhappy,
and after a few minutes
i saw him open up
the Zip-Loc bag,
throw up into it,
then close the bag again
so, he was carrying
his vomit with him
on the el
at least he had a bag
he could seal it up with
—
the prose: Passport To Outer Space
And a lot of us have experiences around the city, and I've tried to see the world, not just this continent, but 15 European countries, Russia, China...
I've searched for these stories around the world, I've gotten my passport stamped like mad... but my sister told me about Don Stump, a friend of my dad's who ran a restaurant, well, his father-in-law apparently bought and had the rights to the space in outer space (you know, like all of the space beyond out atmosphere between planets and stars and comets and asteroids and stuff...). My sister even said that his father-in-law stamped the passports of the astronauts that went into outer space, since they were crossing the areas he owned.
But Don Stump was pushed away from their house once, because at least two men from the FBI were there... Apparently Don's father-in-law was minting coins, it wasn't money that was valid anywhere, but it's illegal for U.S. residents to try to make any sort of profit this way, the way they might have potentially done.
Now, Don and his wife and parents have passed away, so.... I guess there's no way I can pay them for having my passport stamped for going to outer space. But when you're up high in the Earth's atmosphere, a lot of places look the same. I mean, Siberia, with snow peaks and mountain lines along the eastern coast, looks like the Rockies in America in the winter. It's only when you get closer to the ground do you see the real differences.
—
parts of the poem: In The Air
Chicago looks grand from the sky
with this huge expanse of lake
next to it, like civilization crept up
as far as it could but finally had to stop.
The power of nature stopping the power
of mankind... Daylight, and the snow
on the ground in the winter time looks dirty,
too many cars have splashed mud on it as they
drove by. And in the winter the sky
always matches the shade of grey of the snow:
fitting for the city of the Blues.
Maybe the snow is already
that color, that perfect shade of grey,
when it falls from the sky in this city.
When I'm in the air, I like to look
out the window. Clouds look like
cotton balls when you're above them,
and when you're landing cars look like
little ants, on a mission, bringing food
back to their hill. And the
streets look like veins, capillaries in some
massive, monstrous body. And the
farmlands look like little squares of colors.
I wonder why each plot of land is a
different color, what's growing there
that makes them different. Or maybe it's
that some of them are turning shades of red
and brown because they are dying.
And it always seems on a plane that you're stuck
sitting next to someone that is either
too wide for their seat, or is a businessman
with his newspaper stretched out
and his lap top computer on his little
fold out table. Once, when I was on a
flight back from D. C., a flight attendant
walked by, stack of magazines in her
hand, Time, Newsweek, Businessweek,
and I stopped her, asking what magazines
she had. And she replied, "Oh, these
magazines are for men." This is a true
story. And I asked her again what she
had. I had already read Time, so I took Newsweek.
—
the poem: On An Airplane With A Frequent Flyer
"I was once on a flight to Hawaii and I was waiting in line
for the lavatory. There was always a line for a flight
this long, you know, it seemed the washrooms
were always on demand on a flight this long. So
I finally got into the washroom, you know, and I
looked into the toilet, and someone, well, lost the battle
against a very healthy digestive system and left the
"spoils" in the toilet, stuck. Maybe it didn't want to go
down into the sewage tank where all the other
waste from this long trip went to. Can you imagine
all the stuff this airplane had to carry across the ocean?
Well, anyway, so I saw this stuck in the toilet, and I
went to the washroom, and when I was done i flushed and
it still wouldn't budge, and so I opened the door and walked
out into the aisle of the plane again. And there was this
long line of people waiting to use this cramped
little washroom, and I just wanted to tell them all,
'you know, I didn't do that.' And then it occurred to me
that everyone, when they leave the bathroom on that
plane, will think the exact same thing."
—
and the prose: Around the World, & sweet home Chicago
And you know, I talk about travel around the world, but where we come from shows who we are. I mean, once I was on the other side of the world, at the Summer Palace, and an older man came over to me, knowing little english, and said, "My daughter and I wanted to know where you were from." So... not knowing how much geography they knew, I said, "I'm from the United States, in Illinois, in Chicago." And that's when this old man from the other side of the world said, "oh... my kind of town." And I started laughing, knowing the song, and then he said, "Frank Sinatra sang that." and I laughed more, then realizing that although I try to learn about the world, but my soul still hold on to my Chicago roots, other editors even comment on my style of writing being affected by being from the MidWest, being from Chicago... being from here affects my style and my art, oftentimes as much as my family history.
I talk about learning stories from around the world, but I think we can also learn from stories right here, and as we live in this big world, it helps us to not feel small, but to grow larger than life.
—
For more information on this writing and other writings from Janet Kuypers, go to http://www.janetkuypers.com for more information and details. (Less)
Channel: youtubeTags: 17 2004 art big chair dreams Janet July Kuypers living monitor performance poem poetry prose reading show tv video world
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98, 00:33, 2007-07-25 09:47:39 Description: Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in (More) Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in Chicago, Illinois). The show contained poems and music from assorted musicins from Wisconsin, Ohio, Tennessee, New Mexico, and even Canada, as well as original sampled music, include the writings listed toward the bottom of this show explanation. But in this show, Janet Kuypers, because shw was exemplifying living in a big world (the title of the show), she drew a large chair, painted it onto a white canvas (which actually was a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together) and attached it to a wooden base, so she could literally sit in a drawing of a large chair (it was 60" wide, actually). The visual display of the artwork projected onto a large paper screen for this show (which once again was actually a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together)was a drawn TV, and inside the TV a bunch of Janet Kuypers photographs from around the world was shown in this "drawn" TV.
Artwork included in the projected "television" display included:
The Reischtag in Berlin Germany, Tiananmen Square in Beijing China, a building in Agrigento in Cicily Italy, Air Force One with President George H. W. Bush at Pease Air Force Base in Omaha, Nebraska, a downed airplane in Joliet, Illinois, an airplane in Naples Florida, the Arbeit Macht Frei gate at the Dachau Concentration Camp in Dachau Germany, Arches National Park in Utah, Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington Virginia, Bad Gastein Austria, as bamboo frest in Oahu Hawaii, a building in Bruxelles.Belgium, castles in Rome, the Chicago skyline from Lake Michigan with superimposed landmarks like an Egyptian pyramid and a building from India and the Eiffel Tower and Big Ben and Russian churches and a mountain from the Alps, the Colloseum in Rome, a mermaid statue in Copenhagen Denmark, the White Cliffs of Dover in England, the Eiffel Tower in Paris France, el Yunque tropical rain forest in Puerto Rico, Tallinn Estonia, Gettysburg Pennsylvania, a gondola in Venice Italy, the Great Wall of China, the Senate Square Cathedral in Helsinki Finland, highrises in Shanghai China, the Hollywood sign in California, hot strings in Wyoming, a destroyed house after Katrina in New Orleans Louisiana, a King Tut like human Egyptian statue in Paris France, the Last Vegas skyline, the Louvre, Luxembourg, Michael Stipe of R.E.M. in Urbana Illinois, a painted building in Montreal Canada, a lefe-side replica of the Parthenon in Nashville Tennessee, a glove statue in front of a church in Omaha Nebraska, a pagoda near Beijing China, salvages wall art work in Pompeii, the Pyramid of Cestius in Rome, St. Petersburg Russia, San Francisco, the Seasttle Space Needle in Washington, Siberia from the sky, a video still of shydiving near the Rockies in Longmont Colorado, the space shuttle in Cape Canaveral, the Statue of Liberty in New Jersey/New York, a stop sign in Mexico (that says "alto"), Stockholm Sweden, Olympic Natl. Park Temperate Rain Forest in Washington, the Temple of Vesta in Rome, the Vatican, and Zurich Switzerland.
These are the writing included in the live show:
the poem: Paranoia
we sit here at dinner.
I try to breathe.
My hands rest on my thighs.
I must watch to be sure,
everything must be right:
the silverware, small fork,
large fork, plate, knife,
large spoon, small spoon.
Water glass. Wine glass.
I know no one else sees them:
the fish, the red fish, in
the curtains along the wall.
You have to watch them.
My eyes always glance there.
They are evil fish. They sit
in the curtains, they wait,
and then they come out.
And the yogurt, the yogurt
is the only thing that can
save me from them. throw
the yogurt, take a spoon,
use your hands. Anything.
And we sat there before
dinner, and he ate his
yogurt with his first spoon
before I could stop him.
How could you do this? How
can you save yourself now?
Will I have to save you again,
do you even understand
the danger
—
the prose: Man Who Talks Loud... Say Nothing
I try to learn about the world, try to understand the world. While first traveling, I did a MidWest tour of poetry, then was in a Chicago poetry show at the National Poetry Slam in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I sell my performance art audio on iTunes & Naster, I try to share myself with the world, but I wonder if I'm actually getting through to anyone.
I heard a Native American man, whose parents were from two different tribes (meaning that he could never truly have an allegiance with just one tribe), say that after he traveled extensively, he tried to tell his story to the people of either tribe, and no one wanted to even listen to him. They called him Ex-eh-ba-che, which means "man who talks loud... say nothing."
Ex-eh-ba-che.
"Man who talks loud... say nothing."
Oh, what am I saying, I've been around the world, but I've never talked to a Native American. That was actually from a movie I saw, I don't even know if "Ex-eh-ba-che" is a real word or means anything.
But... If I want to see something about the world around me, maybe I should turn on the tee vee, I mean, if news channels can have reporters in war zones, there's got to be something worth watching. Maybe I'll just get out the remote and turn on the tee vee, then press the play button and see what's out there in the world.
—
the poem: Fighting I Can Do
I know these are normal things
for me to be going through
I know that I have been raped
and beaten
I know they've tried to kill me
and lucky me, I survived
I think I can survive
everything they throw at me
But as time wears on
little pieces of this statue are chipped away
everybody wants something, right?
well, they've been taking from me
and taking
and taking
and taking
and my defenses are getting weaker
and I don't know how much more
fighting
I can do
—
the poem: I Want
you know what I want?
i want a big house with filtered central air
and i want a big lawn so i can recreate nature
and i want a big fence so i'll know what's mine
and i want the evergreens trimmed into neat little
balls, because it has to look neat. plant everything
in a row.
and i want to spray chemicals on my lawn
to keep the dandelions away
and i want a plastic lobster bib
over my fancy dress at the fancy restaurant
and don't forget the hundred dollar champagne
and i want a big fat car, and i want
someone else to drive it
and i want the two kids, one boy, one girl
and i want a nanny to take care of them for me
i want to be famous
i want everyone to love me
i want it
i want it all
—
the prose: Adjusting Your Beliefs
We lived in Pennsylvania for 6 months, and while I continued my work with cc&d magazine, I got a P.O. box in the town Intercourse Pennsylvania. And actually, it was an amish town, and we would go to the store there to stock up on spices, and the amish people who worked there were all short -
Now, I know I'm tall, but when I say they were short I should also say that their heads looked child-like... that the people working there looked like they had a mild form, or early stages of, downs syndrome. We could only guess by looking at the faces of these people that the Amish had too severe a history of inbreeding, and no one new came into their community.
And recently I was in Champaign to plant a tree, and we stopped at a mall and there was this hydro massage store in the mall - it was this temporary place that had booths set up for individuals to lay down in, and many jets of water pulsated into plastic sheets over the person's body, it was a massage thing that people could pay for. Now, I had seen things like this before, but I was told I should try this, you know, just splurge, so I was in this thing that looked like a tanning bed for your body with your head sticking out at the end, and John talked to a few girls there, because he noticed how they looked liked they were dressed in near Amish, or Mennonite, clothing. And he found out that these girls were in their late teens, and they came in from out of town on a bus trip; yes, they were Amish, but yes, this was a trip sponsored by their Amish community, and one of the girls said she was on this trip to hopefully find a husband.
And it seems that they were doing this, they were allowing this much technology into the outskirts of their lives, to find someone else to have children with.
Ah, the choices we make. The sacrifices we make to help our lives, or the things we are willing to destroy when faced with insurmountable decisions.
—
the poem: A Retired Policeman Talks About Suicides He's Seen
As a cop, I remember one lady,
we found her in her bathtub,
she cut her throat. That's odd,
for women, normally they take pills,
they don't like to disfigure themselves. But she knew what she was
doing, cutting her throat in a full bath.
Less messy that way. Autopsy said
she was full of barbiturates. She was
a nurse, that explained how she knew
how to do it, but then we found out
that she was pregnant, too. And to top
it off, her brother was a priest.
—
the prose: Technology and Communication (which is prose that has a bit of the poem "Communication '05" in it)
Oh, I'm sorry. I was listening to my iPod.
Oh, wait, let me see, maybe I can hook this up to play the music for you.
You know, I was thinking about it - advancements in technology have been a wonderful thing, and many say it's brought the world closer together, have kept people more connected. And on some levels I can totally agree with that - I mean, I read submissions from email, saving paper and ink and postage, I keep magazines on line so people around the world can read good writing, I've even had musicians from Wisconsin, Ohio and Tennessee find my readings and set music to my words.
But in the same respect, I sit all day at the same desk, staring at the web sites for the domain names I run, instead of actually meeting and working with people.
I mean, at one point, the people i emailed the most
lived in the same city as me, and were only a local call away.
in fact, one of my friends lived a block-and-a-half away from me,
on the same street as me, but
i still emailed her as much as i'd call her,
even though i could just walk over to her house
and have an actual conversation with her.
And even the phone, with cell phones you can carry a phone with you wherever you go, so you'll never be lonely, but it seems to give teenagers another reason to talk endlessly on the phone... And I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to attack someone at a bar, who is there with friends, who gets a walkie-talkie-style call from someone, and they take turns screaming their heads off to get little phrases to someone who couldn't even be there with them.
I mean, the iPhone just came out, combining a cell phone with an iPod, as well as email and Internet web browsing. But some bits of technology allow you to tune the world out, like the iPod here. When people see these headphones on someone, they know that you've apparently found something bigger and better than them for their lives right now... But even without technology, when I go for walks every morning, I wear the iPod, but I also wear sunglasses, even if it's overcast, so no one knows if I am studying every person I pass. With a lot of the technology we have now, we can learn about the rest of the world - or we can tune out the rest of the world and ignore any news that doesn't fit in with what we want to believe.
—
the poem: The Carpet Factory, The Shoes
i heard a story today
about a little boy
one of many who was enslaved
by his country
in child labor
in this case
he was working
for a carpet factory
he managed to escape
he told his story
to the world
he was a hero at ten
but the people from the factory
held a grudge
and today i heard
that the little boy
was shot and killed
on the street
he was twelve
and then people complain to me
when i buy shoes
that are made in china
now i have to think
did somebody
have to die for these
will somebody have to die
for these
—
the prose: Differences in China: children & trains
Children in different parts of the world... I saw in China once a little boy outside, a toddler, drop his pants at the street side at a market and just start pissing on the sidewalk. And as I saw this, I saw that all the people there weren't even bothered by this... Someone explained to me that while they're little, toddler boys in China can go to the bathroom like that outside - but if he goes number 2, the mother has to pick up his feces (you know, like they were taking care of a dog).
But on the trains in China, they had a television screen in every car, with clips from what seemed like "America's Funniest Home Videos." Well, I couldn't understand a thing anyone was saying in China on this show on the train, but you couldn't help but watch, and you couldn't help but laugh. It was a great means of bringing levity when you're on a public train, like when you're on your way to work every morning on the el.
—
the poem: Private Lives 2005
sitting on the el train
i saw a middle-eastern man
sitting across from me
holding a large Zip-Loc bag
of some sort of food paste,
i couldn't tell,
it looked like some sort of
curry-filled food paste
and the man looked unhappy,
and after a few minutes
i saw him open up
the Zip-Loc bag,
throw up into it,
then close the bag again
so, he was carrying
his vomit with him
on the el
at least he had a bag
he could seal it up with
—
the prose: Passport To Outer Space
And a lot of us have experiences around the city, and I've tried to see the world, not just this continent, but 15 European countries, Russia, China...
I've searched for these stories around the world, I've gotten my passport stamped like mad... but my sister told me about Don Stump, a friend of my dad's who ran a restaurant, well, his father-in-law apparently bought and had the rights to the space in outer space (you know, like all of the space beyond out atmosphere between planets and stars and comets and asteroids and stuff...). My sister even said that his father-in-law stamped the passports of the astronauts that went into outer space, since they were crossing the areas he owned.
But Don Stump was pushed away from their house once, because at least two men from the FBI were there... Apparently Don's father-in-law was minting coins, it wasn't money that was valid anywhere, but it's illegal for U.S. residents to try to make any sort of profit this way, the way they might have potentially done.
Now, Don and his wife and parents have passed away, so.... I guess there's no way I can pay them for having my passport stamped for going to outer space. But when you're up high in the Earth's atmosphere, a lot of places look the same. I mean, Siberia, with snow peaks and mountain lines along the eastern coast, looks like the Rockies in America in the winter. It's only when you get closer to the ground do you see the real differences.
—
parts of the poem: In The Air
Chicago looks grand from the sky
with this huge expanse of lake
next to it, like civilization crept up
as far as it could but finally had to stop.
The power of nature stopping the power
of mankind... Daylight, and the snow
on the ground in the winter time looks dirty,
too many cars have splashed mud on it as they
drove by. And in the winter the sky
always matches the shade of grey of the snow:
fitting for the city of the Blues.
Maybe the snow is already
that color, that perfect shade of grey,
when it falls from the sky in this city.
When I'm in the air, I like to look
out the window. Clouds look like
cotton balls when you're above them,
and when you're landing cars look like
little ants, on a mission, bringing food
back to their hill. And the
streets look like veins, capillaries in some
massive, monstrous body. And the
farmlands look like little squares of colors.
I wonder why each plot of land is a
different color, what's growing there
that makes them different. Or maybe it's
that some of them are turning shades of red
and brown because they are dying.
And it always seems on a plane that you're stuck
sitting next to someone that is either
too wide for their seat, or is a businessman
with his newspaper stretched out
and his lap top computer on his little
fold out table. Once, when I was on a
flight back from D. C., a flight attendant
walked by, stack of magazines in her
hand, Time, Newsweek, Businessweek,
and I stopped her, asking what magazines
she had. And she replied, "Oh, these
magazines are for men." This is a true
story. And I asked her again what she
had. I had already read Time, so I took Newsweek.
—
the poem: On An Airplane With A Frequent Flyer
"I was once on a flight to Hawaii and I was waiting in line
for the lavatory. There was always a line for a flight
this long, you know, it seemed the washrooms
were always on demand on a flight this long. So
I finally got into the washroom, you know, and I
looked into the toilet, and someone, well, lost the battle
against a very healthy digestive system and left the
"spoils" in the toilet, stuck. Maybe it didn't want to go
down into the sewage tank where all the other
waste from this long trip went to. Can you imagine
all the stuff this airplane had to carry across the ocean?
Well, anyway, so I saw this stuck in the toilet, and I
went to the washroom, and when I was done i flushed and
it still wouldn't budge, and so I opened the door and walked
out into the aisle of the plane again. And there was this
long line of people waiting to use this cramped
little washroom, and I just wanted to tell them all,
'you know, I didn't do that.' And then it occurred to me
that everyone, when they leave the bathroom on that
plane, will think the exact same thing."
—
and the prose: Around the World, & sweet home Chicago
And you know, I talk about travel around the world, but where we come from shows who we are. I mean, once I was on the other side of the world, at the Summer Palace, and an older man came over to me, knowing little english, and said, "My daughter and I wanted to know where you were from." So... not knowing how much geography they knew, I said, "I'm from the United States, in Illinois, in Chicago." And that's when this old man from the other side of the world said, "oh... my kind of town." And I started laughing, knowing the song, and then he said, "Frank Sinatra sang that." and I laughed more, then realizing that although I try to learn about the world, but my soul still hold on to my Chicago roots, other editors even comment on my style of writing being affected by being from the MidWest, being from Chicago... being from here affects my style and my art, oftentimes as much as my family history.
I talk about learning stories from around the world, but I think we can also learn from stories right here, and as we live in this big world, it helps us to not feel small, but to grow larger than life.
—
For more information on this writing and other writings from Janet Kuypers, go to http://www.janetkuypers.com for more information and details. (Less)
Channel: youtubeTags: 17 2004 art big chair dreams Janet July Kuypers living monitor performance poem poetry prose reading show tv video world
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148, 00:34, 2007-07-25 09:44:59 Description: Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in (More) Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in Chicago, Illinois). The show contained poems and music from assorted musicins from Wisconsin, Ohio, Tennessee, New Mexico, and even Canada, as well as original sampled music, include the writings listed toward the bottom of this show explanation. But in this show, Janet Kuypers, because shw was exemplifying living in a big world (the title of the show), she drew a large chair, painted it onto a white canvas (which actually was a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together) and attached it to a wooden base, so she could literally sit in a drawing of a large chair (it was 60" wide, actually). The visual display of the artwork projected onto a large paper screen for this show (which once again was actually a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together)was a drawn TV, and inside the TV a bunch of Janet Kuypers photographs from around the world was shown in this "drawn" TV.
Artwork included in the projected "television" display included:
The Reischtag in Berlin Germany, Tiananmen Square in Beijing China, a building in Agrigento in Cicily Italy, Air Force One with President George H. W. Bush at Pease Air Force Base in Omaha, Nebraska, a downed airplane in Joliet, Illinois, an airplane in Naples Florida, the Arbeit Macht Frei gate at the Dachau Concentration Camp in Dachau Germany, Arches National Park in Utah, Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington Virginia, Bad Gastein Austria, as bamboo frest in Oahu Hawaii, a building in Bruxelles.Belgium, castles in Rome, the Chicago skyline from Lake Michigan with superimposed landmarks like an Egyptian pyramid and a building from India and the Eiffel Tower and Big Ben and Russian churches and a mountain from the Alps, the Colloseum in Rome, a mermaid statue in Copenhagen Denmark, the White Cliffs of Dover in England, the Eiffel Tower in Paris France, el Yunque tropical rain forest in Puerto Rico, Tallinn Estonia, Gettysburg Pennsylvania, a gondola in Venice Italy, the Great Wall of China, the Senate Square Cathedral in Helsinki Finland, highrises in Shanghai China, the Hollywood sign in California, hot strings in Wyoming, a destroyed house after Katrina in New Orleans Louisiana, a King Tut like human Egyptian statue in Paris France, the Last Vegas skyline, the Louvre, Luxembourg, Michael Stipe of R.E.M. in Urbana Illinois, a painted building in Montreal Canada, a lefe-side replica of the Parthenon in Nashville Tennessee, a glove statue in front of a church in Omaha Nebraska, a pagoda near Beijing China, salvages wall art work in Pompeii, the Pyramid of Cestius in Rome, St. Petersburg Russia, San Francisco, the Seasttle Space Needle in Washington, Siberia from the sky, a video still of shydiving near the Rockies in Longmont Colorado, the space shuttle in Cape Canaveral, the Statue of Liberty in New Jersey/New York, a stop sign in Mexico (that says "alto"), Stockholm Sweden, Olympic Natl. Park Temperate Rain Forest in Washington, the Temple of Vesta in Rome, the Vatican, and Zurich Switzerland.
These are the writing included in the live show:
the poem: Paranoia
we sit here at dinner.
I try to breathe.
My hands rest on my thighs.
I must watch to be sure,
everything must be right:
the silverware, small fork,
large fork, plate, knife,
large spoon, small spoon.
Water glass. Wine glass.
I know no one else sees them:
the fish, the red fish, in
the curtains along the wall.
You have to watch them.
My eyes always glance there.
They are evil fish. They sit
in the curtains, they wait,
and then they come out.
And the yogurt, the yogurt
is the only thing that can
save me from them. throw
the yogurt, take a spoon,
use your hands. Anything.
And we sat there before
dinner, and he ate his
yogurt with his first spoon
before I could stop him.
How could you do this? How
can you save yourself now?
Will I have to save you again,
do you even understand
the danger
—
the prose: Man Who Talks Loud... Say Nothing
I try to learn about the world, try to understand the world. While first traveling, I did a MidWest tour of poetry, then was in a Chicago poetry show at the National Poetry Slam in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I sell my performance art audio on iTunes & Naster, I try to share myself with the world, but I wonder if I'm actually getting through to anyone.
I heard a Native American man, whose parents were from two different tribes (meaning that he could never truly have an allegiance with just one tribe), say that after he traveled extensively, he tried to tell his story to the people of either tribe, and no one wanted to even listen to him. They called him Ex-eh-ba-che, which means "man who talks loud... say nothing."
Ex-eh-ba-che.
"Man who talks loud... say nothing."
Oh, what am I saying, I've been around the world, but I've never talked to a Native American. That was actually from a movie I saw, I don't even know if "Ex-eh-ba-che" is a real word or means anything.
But... If I want to see something about the world around me, maybe I should turn on the tee vee, I mean, if news channels can have reporters in war zones, there's got to be something worth watching. Maybe I'll just get out the remote and turn on the tee vee, then press the play button and see what's out there in the world.
—
the poem: Fighting I Can Do
I know these are normal things
for me to be going through
I know that I have been raped
and beaten
I know they've tried to kill me
and lucky me, I survived
I think I can survive
everything they throw at me
But as time wears on
little pieces of this statue are chipped away
everybody wants something, right?
well, they've been taking from me
and taking
and taking
and taking
and my defenses are getting weaker
and I don't know how much more
fighting
I can do
—
the poem: I Want
you know what I want?
i want a big house with filtered central air
and i want a big lawn so i can recreate nature
and i want a big fence so i'll know what's mine
and i want the evergreens trimmed into neat little
balls, because it has to look neat. plant everything
in a row.
and i want to spray chemicals on my lawn
to keep the dandelions away
and i want a plastic lobster bib
over my fancy dress at the fancy restaurant
and don't forget the hundred dollar champagne
and i want a big fat car, and i want
someone else to drive it
and i want the two kids, one boy, one girl
and i want a nanny to take care of them for me
i want to be famous
i want everyone to love me
i want it
i want it all
—
the prose: Adjusting Your Beliefs
We lived in Pennsylvania for 6 months, and while I continued my work with cc&d magazine, I got a P.O. box in the town Intercourse Pennsylvania. And actually, it was an amish town, and we would go to the store there to stock up on spices, and the amish people who worked there were all short -
Now, I know I'm tall, but when I say they were short I should also say that their heads looked child-like... that the people working there looked like they had a mild form, or early stages of, downs syndrome. We could only guess by looking at the faces of these people that the Amish had too severe a history of inbreeding, and no one new came into their community.
And recently I was in Champaign to plant a tree, and we stopped at a mall and there was this hydro massage store in the mall - it was this temporary place that had booths set up for individuals to lay down in, and many jets of water pulsated into plastic sheets over the person's body, it was a massage thing that people could pay for. Now, I had seen things like this before, but I was told I should try this, you know, just splurge, so I was in this thing that looked like a tanning bed for your body with your head sticking out at the end, and John talked to a few girls there, because he noticed how they looked liked they were dressed in near Amish, or Mennonite, clothing. And he found out that these girls were in their late teens, and they came in from out of town on a bus trip; yes, they were Amish, but yes, this was a trip sponsored by their Amish community, and one of the girls said she was on this trip to hopefully find a husband.
And it seems that they were doing this, they were allowing this much technology into the outskirts of their lives, to find someone else to have children with.
Ah, the choices we make. The sacrifices we make to help our lives, or the things we are willing to destroy when faced with insurmountable decisions.
—
the poem: A Retired Policeman Talks About Suicides He's Seen
As a cop, I remember one lady,
we found her in her bathtub,
she cut her throat. That's odd,
for women, normally they take pills,
they don't like to disfigure themselves. But she knew what she was
doing, cutting her throat in a full bath.
Less messy that way. Autopsy said
she was full of barbiturates. She was
a nurse, that explained how she knew
how to do it, but then we found out
that she was pregnant, too. And to top
it off, her brother was a priest.
—
the prose: Technology and Communication (which is prose that has a bit of the poem "Communication '05" in it)
Oh, I'm sorry. I was listening to my iPod.
Oh, wait, let me see, maybe I can hook this up to play the music for you.
You know, I was thinking about it - advancements in technology have been a wonderful thing, and many say it's brought the world closer together, have kept people more connected. And on some levels I can totally agree with that - I mean, I read submissions from email, saving paper and ink and postage, I keep magazines on line so people around the world can read good writing, I've even had musicians from Wisconsin, Ohio and Tennessee find my readings and set music to my words.
But in the same respect, I sit all day at the same desk, staring at the web sites for the domain names I run, instead of actually meeting and working with people.
I mean, at one point, the people i emailed the most
lived in the same city as me, and were only a local call away.
in fact, one of my friends lived a block-and-a-half away from me,
on the same street as me, but
i still emailed her as much as i'd call her,
even though i could just walk over to her house
and have an actual conversation with her.
And even the phone, with cell phones you can carry a phone with you wherever you go, so you'll never be lonely, but it seems to give teenagers another reason to talk endlessly on the phone... And I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to attack someone at a bar, who is there with friends, who gets a walkie-talkie-style call from someone, and they take turns screaming their heads off to get little phrases to someone who couldn't even be there with them.
I mean, the iPhone just came out, combining a cell phone with an iPod, as well as email and Internet web browsing. But some bits of technology allow you to tune the world out, like the iPod here. When people see these headphones on someone, they know that you've apparently found something bigger and better than them for their lives right now... But even without technology, when I go for walks every morning, I wear the iPod, but I also wear sunglasses, even if it's overcast, so no one knows if I am studying every person I pass. With a lot of the technology we have now, we can learn about the rest of the world - or we can tune out the rest of the world and ignore any news that doesn't fit in with what we want to believe.
—
the poem: The Carpet Factory, The Shoes
i heard a story today
about a little boy
one of many who was enslaved
by his country
in child labor
in this case
he was working
for a carpet factory
he managed to escape
he told his story
to the world
he was a hero at ten
but the people from the factory
held a grudge
and today i heard
that the little boy
was shot and killed
on the street
he was twelve
and then people complain to me
when i buy shoes
that are made in china
now i have to think
did somebody
have to die for these
will somebody have to die
for these
—
the prose: Differences in China: children & trains
Children in different parts of the world... I saw in China once a little boy outside, a toddler, drop his pants at the street side at a market and just start pissing on the sidewalk. And as I saw this, I saw that all the people there weren't even bothered by this... Someone explained to me that while they're little, toddler boys in China can go to the bathroom like that outside - but if he goes number 2, the mother has to pick up his feces (you know, like they were taking care of a dog).
But on the trains in China, they had a television screen in every car, with clips from what seemed like "America's Funniest Home Videos." Well, I couldn't understand a thing anyone was saying in China on this show on the train, but you couldn't help but watch, and you couldn't help but laugh. It was a great means of bringing levity when you're on a public train, like when you're on your way to work every morning on the el.
—
the poem: Private Lives 2005
sitting on the el train
i saw a middle-eastern man
sitting across from me
holding a large Zip-Loc bag
of some sort of food paste,
i couldn't tell,
it looked like some sort of
curry-filled food paste
and the man looked unhappy,
and after a few minutes
i saw him open up
the Zip-Loc bag,
throw up into it,
then close the bag again
so, he was carrying
his vomit with him
on the el
at least he had a bag
he could seal it up with
—
the prose: Passport To Outer Space
And a lot of us have experiences around the city, and I've tried to see the world, not just this continent, but 15 European countries, Russia, China...
I've searched for these stories around the world, I've gotten my passport stamped like mad... but my sister told me about Don Stump, a friend of my dad's who ran a restaurant, well, his father-in-law apparently bought and had the rights to the space in outer space (you know, like all of the space beyond out atmosphere between planets and stars and comets and asteroids and stuff...). My sister even said that his father-in-law stamped the passports of the astronauts that went into outer space, since they were crossing the areas he owned.
But Don Stump was pushed away from their house once, because at least two men from the FBI were there... Apparently Don's father-in-law was minting coins, it wasn't money that was valid anywhere, but it's illegal for U.S. residents to try to make any sort of profit this way, the way they might have potentially done.
Now, Don and his wife and parents have passed away, so.... I guess there's no way I can pay them for having my passport stamped for going to outer space. But when you're up high in the Earth's atmosphere, a lot of places look the same. I mean, Siberia, with snow peaks and mountain lines along the eastern coast, looks like the Rockies in America in the winter. It's only when you get closer to the ground do you see the real differences.
—
parts of the poem: In The Air
Chicago looks grand from the sky
with this huge expanse of lake
next to it, like civilization crept up
as far as it could but finally had to stop.
The power of nature stopping the power
of mankind... Daylight, and the snow
on the ground in the winter time looks dirty,
too many cars have splashed mud on it as they
drove by. And in the winter the sky
always matches the shade of grey of the snow:
fitting for the city of the Blues.
Maybe the snow is already
that color, that perfect shade of grey,
when it falls from the sky in this city.
When I'm in the air, I like to look
out the window. Clouds look like
cotton balls when you're above them,
and when you're landing cars look like
little ants, on a mission, bringing food
back to their hill. And the
streets look like veins, capillaries in some
massive, monstrous body. And the
farmlands look like little squares of colors.
I wonder why each plot of land is a
different color, what's growing there
that makes them different. Or maybe it's
that some of them are turning shades of red
and brown because they are dying.
And it always seems on a plane that you're stuck
sitting next to someone that is either
too wide for their seat, or is a businessman
with his newspaper stretched out
and his lap top computer on his little
fold out table. Once, when I was on a
flight back from D. C., a flight attendant
walked by, stack of magazines in her
hand, Time, Newsweek, Businessweek,
and I stopped her, asking what magazines
she had. And she replied, "Oh, these
magazines are for men." This is a true
story. And I asked her again what she
had. I had already read Time, so I took Newsweek.
—
the poem: On An Airplane With A Frequent Flyer
"I was once on a flight to Hawaii and I was waiting in line
for the lavatory. There was always a line for a flight
this long, you know, it seemed the washrooms
were always on demand on a flight this long. So
I finally got into the washroom, you know, and I
looked into the toilet, and someone, well, lost the battle
against a very healthy digestive system and left the
"spoils" in the toilet, stuck. Maybe it didn't want to go
down into the sewage tank where all the other
waste from this long trip went to. Can you imagine
all the stuff this airplane had to carry across the ocean?
Well, anyway, so I saw this stuck in the toilet, and I
went to the washroom, and when I was done i flushed and
it still wouldn't budge, and so I opened the door and walked
out into the aisle of the plane again. And there was this
long line of people waiting to use this cramped
little washroom, and I just wanted to tell them all,
'you know, I didn't do that.' And then it occurred to me
that everyone, when they leave the bathroom on that
plane, will think the exact same thing."
—
and the prose: Around the World, & sweet home Chicago
And you know, I talk about travel around the world, but where we come from shows who we are. I mean, once I was on the other side of the world, at the Summer Palace, and an older man came over to me, knowing little english, and said, "My daughter and I wanted to know where you were from." So... not knowing how much geography they knew, I said, "I'm from the United States, in Illinois, in Chicago." And that's when this old man from the other side of the world said, "oh... my kind of town." And I started laughing, knowing the song, and then he said, "Frank Sinatra sang that." and I laughed more, then realizing that although I try to learn about the world, but my soul still hold on to my Chicago roots, other editors even comment on my style of writing being affected by being from the MidWest, being from Chicago... being from here affects my style and my art, oftentimes as much as my family history.
I talk about learning stories from around the world, but I think we can also learn from stories right here, and as we live in this big world, it helps us to not feel small, but to grow larger than life.
—
For more information on this writing and other writings from Janet Kuypers, go to http://www.janetkuypers.com for more information and details. (Less)
Channel: youtubeTags: 17 2004 art big chair dreams Janet July Kuypers living monitor performance poem poetry prose reading show tv video world
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148, 01:58, 2007-07-25 10:06:29 Description: Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in (More) Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in Chicago, Illinois). The show contained poems and music from assorted musicins from Wisconsin, Ohio, Tennessee, New Mexico, and even Canada, as well as original sampled music, include the writings listed toward the bottom of this show explanation. But in this show, Janet Kuypers, because shw was exemplifying living in a big world (the title of the show), she drew a large chair, painted it onto a white canvas (which actually was a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together) and attached it to a wooden base, so she could literally sit in a drawing of a large chair (it was 60" wide, actually). The visual display of the artwork projected onto a large paper screen for this show (which once again was actually a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together)was a drawn TV, and inside the TV a bunch of Janet Kuypers photographs from around the world was shown in this "drawn" TV.
Artwork included in the projected "television" display included:
The Reischtag in Berlin Germany, Tiananmen Square in Beijing China, a building in Agrigento in Cicily Italy, Air Force One with President George H. W. Bush at Pease Air Force Base in Omaha, Nebraska, a downed airplane in Joliet, Illinois, an airplane in Naples Florida, the Arbeit Macht Frei gate at the Dachau Concentration Camp in Dachau Germany, Arches National Park in Utah, Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington Virginia, Bad Gastein Austria, as bamboo frest in Oahu Hawaii, a building in Bruxelles.Belgium, castles in Rome, the Chicago skyline from Lake Michigan with superimposed landmarks like an Egyptian pyramid and a building from India and the Eiffel Tower and Big Ben and Russian churches and a mountain from the Alps, the Colloseum in Rome, a mermaid statue in Copenhagen Denmark, the White Cliffs of Dover in England, the Eiffel Tower in Paris France, el Yunque tropical rain forest in Puerto Rico, Tallinn Estonia, Gettysburg Pennsylvania, a gondola in Venice Italy, the Great Wall of China, the Senate Square Cathedral in Helsinki Finland, highrises in Shanghai China, the Hollywood sign in California, hot strings in Wyoming, a destroyed house after Katrina in New Orleans Louisiana, a King Tut like human Egyptian statue in Paris France, the Last Vegas skyline, the Louvre, Luxembourg, Michael Stipe of R.E.M. in Urbana Illinois, a painted building in Montreal Canada, a lefe-side replica of the Parthenon in Nashville Tennessee, a glove statue in front of a church in Omaha Nebraska, a pagoda near Beijing China, salvages wall art work in Pompeii, the Pyramid of Cestius in Rome, St. Petersburg Russia, San Francisco, the Seasttle Space Needle in Washington, Siberia from the sky, a video still of shydiving near the Rockies in Longmont Colorado, the space shuttle in Cape Canaveral, the Statue of Liberty in New Jersey/New York, a stop sign in Mexico (that says "alto"), Stockholm Sweden, Olympic Natl. Park Temperate Rain Forest in Washington, the Temple of Vesta in Rome, the Vatican, and Zurich Switzerland.
These are the writing included in the live show:
the poem: Paranoia
we sit here at dinner.
I try to breathe.
My hands rest on my thighs.
I must watch to be sure,
everything must be right:
the silverware, small fork,
large fork, plate, knife,
large spoon, small spoon.
Water glass. Wine glass.
I know no one else sees them:
the fish, the red fish, in
the curtains along the wall.
You have to watch them.
My eyes always glance there.
They are evil fish. They sit
in the curtains, they wait,
and then they come out.
And the yogurt, the yogurt
is the only thing that can
save me from them. throw
the yogurt, take a spoon,
use your hands. Anything.
And we sat there before
dinner, and he ate his
yogurt with his first spoon
before I could stop him.
How could you do this? How
can you save yourself now?
Will I have to save you again,
do you even understand
the danger
—
the prose: Man Who Talks Loud... Say Nothing
I try to learn about the world, try to understand the world. While first traveling, I did a MidWest tour of poetry, then was in a Chicago poetry show at the National Poetry Slam in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I sell my performance art audio on iTunes & Naster, I try to share myself with the world, but I wonder if I'm actually getting through to anyone.
I heard a Native American man, whose parents were from two different tribes (meaning that he could never truly have an allegiance with just one tribe), say that after he traveled extensively, he tried to tell his story to the people of either tribe, and no one wanted to even listen to him. They called him Ex-eh-ba-che, which means "man who talks loud... say nothing."
Ex-eh-ba-che.
"Man who talks loud... say nothing."
Oh, what am I saying, I've been around the world, but I've never talked to a Native American. That was actually from a movie I saw, I don't even know if "Ex-eh-ba-che" is a real word or means anything.
But... If I want to see something about the world around me, maybe I should turn on the tee vee, I mean, if news channels can have reporters in war zones, there's got to be something worth watching. Maybe I'll just get out the remote and turn on the tee vee, then press the play button and see what's out there in the world.
—
the poem: Fighting I Can Do
I know these are normal things
for me to be going through
I know that I have been raped
and beaten
I know they've tried to kill me
and lucky me, I survived
I think I can survive
everything they throw at me
But as time wears on
little pieces of this statue are chipped away
everybody wants something, right?
well, they've been taking from me
and taking
and taking
and taking
and my defenses are getting weaker
and I don't know how much more
fighting
I can do
—
the poem: I Want
you know what I want?
i want a big house with filtered central air
and i want a big lawn so i can recreate nature
and i want a big fence so i'll know what's mine
and i want the evergreens trimmed into neat little
balls, because it has to look neat. plant everything
in a row.
and i want to spray chemicals on my lawn
to keep the dandelions away
and i want a plastic lobster bib
over my fancy dress at the fancy restaurant
and don't forget the hundred dollar champagne
and i want a big fat car, and i want
someone else to drive it
and i want the two kids, one boy, one girl
and i want a nanny to take care of them for me
i want to be famous
i want everyone to love me
i want it
i want it all
—
the prose: Adjusting Your Beliefs
We lived in Pennsylvania for 6 months, and while I continued my work with cc&d magazine, I got a P.O. box in the town Intercourse Pennsylvania. And actually, it was an amish town, and we would go to the store there to stock up on spices, and the amish people who worked there were all short -
Now, I know I'm tall, but when I say they were short I should also say that their heads looked child-like... that the people working there looked like they had a mild form, or early stages of, downs syndrome. We could only guess by looking at the faces of these people that the Amish had too severe a history of inbreeding, and no one new came into their community.
And recently I was in Champaign to plant a tree, and we stopped at a mall and there was this hydro massage store in the mall - it was this temporary place that had booths set up for individuals to lay down in, and many jets of water pulsated into plastic sheets over the person's body, it was a massage thing that people could pay for. Now, I had seen things like this before, but I was told I should try this, you know, just splurge, so I was in this thing that looked like a tanning bed for your body with your head sticking out at the end, and John talked to a few girls there, because he noticed how they looked liked they were dressed in near Amish, or Mennonite, clothing. And he found out that these girls were in their late teens, and they came in from out of town on a bus trip; yes, they were Amish, but yes, this was a trip sponsored by their Amish community, and one of the girls said she was on this trip to hopefully find a husband.
And it seems that they were doing this, they were allowing this much technology into the outskirts of their lives, to find someone else to have children with.
Ah, the choices we make. The sacrifices we make to help our lives, or the things we are willing to destroy when faced with insurmountable decisions.
—
the poem: A Retired Policeman Talks About Suicides He's Seen
As a cop, I remember one lady,
we found her in her bathtub,
she cut her throat. That's odd,
for women, normally they take pills,
they don't like to disfigure themselves. But she knew what she was
doing, cutting her throat in a full bath.
Less messy that way. Autopsy said
she was full of barbiturates. She was
a nurse, that explained how she knew
how to do it, but then we found out
that she was pregnant, too. And to top
it off, her brother was a priest.
—
the prose: Technology and Communication (which is prose that has a bit of the poem "Communication '05" in it)
Oh, I'm sorry. I was listening to my iPod.
Oh, wait, let me see, maybe I can hook this up to play the music for you.
You know, I was thinking about it - advancements in technology have been a wonderful thing, and many say it's brought the world closer together, have kept people more connected. And on some levels I can totally agree with that - I mean, I read submissions from email, saving paper and ink and postage, I keep magazines on line so people around the world can read good writing, I've even had musicians from Wisconsin, Ohio and Tennessee find my readings and set music to my words.
But in the same respect, I sit all day at the same desk, staring at the web sites for the domain names I run, instead of actually meeting and working with people.
I mean, at one point, the people i emailed the most
lived in the same city as me, and were only a local call away.
in fact, one of my friends lived a block-and-a-half away from me,
on the same street as me, but
i still emailed her as much as i'd call her,
even though i could just walk over to her house
and have an actual conversation with her.
And even the phone, with cell phones you can carry a phone with you wherever you go, so you'll never be lonely, but it seems to give teenagers another reason to talk endlessly on the phone... And I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to attack someone at a bar, who is there with friends, who gets a walkie-talkie-style call from someone, and they take turns screaming their heads off to get little phrases to someone who couldn't even be there with them.
I mean, the iPhone just came out, combining a cell phone with an iPod, as well as email and Internet web browsing. But some bits of technology allow you to tune the world out, like the iPod here. When people see these headphones on someone, they know that you've apparently found something bigger and better than them for their lives right now... But even without technology, when I go for walks every morning, I wear the iPod, but I also wear sunglasses, even if it's overcast, so no one knows if I am studying every person I pass. With a lot of the technology we have now, we can learn about the rest of the world - or we can tune out the rest of the world and ignore any news that doesn't fit in with what we want to believe.
—
the poem: The Carpet Factory, The Shoes
i heard a story today
about a little boy
one of many who was enslaved
by his country
in child labor
in this case
he was working
for a carpet factory
he managed to escape
he told his story
to the world
he was a hero at ten
but the people from the factory
held a grudge
and today i heard
that the little boy
was shot and killed
on the street
he was twelve
and then people complain to me
when i buy shoes
that are made in china
now i have to think
did somebody
have to die for these
will somebody have to die
for these
—
the prose: Differences in China: children & trains
Children in different parts of the world... I saw in China once a little boy outside, a toddler, drop his pants at the street side at a market and just start pissing on the sidewalk. And as I saw this, I saw that all the people there weren't even bothered by this... Someone explained to me that while they're little, toddler boys in China can go to the bathroom like that outside - but if he goes number 2, the mother has to pick up his feces (you know, like they were taking care of a dog).
But on the trains in China, they had a television screen in every car, with clips from what seemed like "America's Funniest Home Videos." Well, I couldn't understand a thing anyone was saying in China on this show on the train, but you couldn't help but watch, and you couldn't help but laugh. It was a great means of bringing levity when you're on a public train, like when you're on your way to work every morning on the el.
—
the poem: Private Lives 2005
sitting on the el train
i saw a middle-eastern man
sitting across from me
holding a large Zip-Loc bag
of some sort of food paste,
i couldn't tell,
it looked like some sort of
curry-filled food paste
and the man looked unhappy,
and after a few minutes
i saw him open up
the Zip-Loc bag,
throw up into it,
then close the bag again
so, he was carrying
his vomit with him
on the el
at least he had a bag
he could seal it up with
—
the prose: Passport To Outer Space
And a lot of us have experiences around the city, and I've tried to see the world, not just this continent, but 15 European countries, Russia, China...
I've searched for these stories around the world, I've gotten my passport stamped like mad... but my sister told me about Don Stump, a friend of my dad's who ran a restaurant, well, his father-in-law apparently bought and had the rights to the space in outer space (you know, like all of the space beyond out atmosphere between planets and stars and comets and asteroids and stuff...). My sister even said that his father-in-law stamped the passports of the astronauts that went into outer space, since they were crossing the areas he owned.
But Don Stump was pushed away from their house once, because at least two men from the FBI were there... Apparently Don's father-in-law was minting coins, it wasn't money that was valid anywhere, but it's illegal for U.S. residents to try to make any sort of profit this way, the way they might have potentially done.
Now, Don and his wife and parents have passed away, so.... I guess there's no way I can pay them for having my passport stamped for going to outer space. But when you're up high in the Earth's atmosphere, a lot of places look the same. I mean, Siberia, with snow peaks and mountain lines along the eastern coast, looks like the Rockies in America in the winter. It's only when you get closer to the ground do you see the real differences.
—
parts of the poem: In The Air
Chicago looks grand from the sky
with this huge expanse of lake
next to it, like civilization crept up
as far as it could but finally had to stop.
The power of nature stopping the power
of mankind... Daylight, and the snow
on the ground in the winter time looks dirty,
too many cars have splashed mud on it as they
drove by. And in the winter the sky
always matches the shade of grey of the snow:
fitting for the city of the Blues.
Maybe the snow is already
that color, that perfect shade of grey,
when it falls from the sky in this city.
When I'm in the air, I like to look
out the window. Clouds look like
cotton balls when you're above them,
and when you're landing cars look like
little ants, on a mission, bringing food
back to their hill. And the
streets look like veins, capillaries in some
massive, monstrous body. And the
farmlands look like little squares of colors.
I wonder why each plot of land is a
different color, what's growing there
that makes them different. Or maybe it's
that some of them are turning shades of red
and brown because they are dying.
And it always seems on a plane that you're stuck
sitting next to someone that is either
too wide for their seat, or is a businessman
with his newspaper stretched out
and his lap top computer on his little
fold out table. Once, when I was on a
flight back from D. C., a flight attendant
walked by, stack of magazines in her
hand, Time, Newsweek, Businessweek,
and I stopped her, asking what magazines
she had. And she replied, "Oh, these
magazines are for men." This is a true
story. And I asked her again what she
had. I had already read Time, so I took Newsweek.
—
the poem: On An Airplane With A Frequent Flyer
"I was once on a flight to Hawaii and I was waiting in line
for the lavatory. There was always a line for a flight
this long, you know, it seemed the washrooms
were always on demand on a flight this long. So
I finally got into the washroom, you know, and I
looked into the toilet, and someone, well, lost the battle
against a very healthy digestive system and left the
"spoils" in the toilet, stuck. Maybe it didn't want to go
down into the sewage tank where all the other
waste from this long trip went to. Can you imagine
all the stuff this airplane had to carry across the ocean?
Well, anyway, so I saw this stuck in the toilet, and I
went to the washroom, and when I was done i flushed and
it still wouldn't budge, and so I opened the door and walked
out into the aisle of the plane again. And there was this
long line of people waiting to use this cramped
little washroom, and I just wanted to tell them all,
'you know, I didn't do that.' And then it occurred to me
that everyone, when they leave the bathroom on that
plane, will think the exact same thing."
—
and the prose: Around the World, & sweet home Chicago
And you know, I talk about travel around the world, but where we come from shows who we are. I mean, once I was on the other side of the world, at the Summer Palace, and an older man came over to me, knowing little english, and said, "My daughter and I wanted to know where you were from." So... not knowing how much geography they knew, I said, "I'm from the United States, in Illinois, in Chicago." And that's when this old man from the other side of the world said, "oh... my kind of town." And I started laughing, knowing the song, and then he said, "Frank Sinatra sang that." and I laughed more, then realizing that although I try to learn about the world, but my soul still hold on to my Chicago roots, other editors even comment on my style of writing being affected by being from the MidWest, being from Chicago... being from here affects my style and my art, oftentimes as much as my family history.
I talk about learning stories from around the world, but I think we can also learn from stories right here, and as we live in this big world, it helps us to not feel small, but to grow larger than life.
—
For more information on this writing and other writings from Janet Kuypers, go to http://www.janetkuypers.com for more information and details. (Less)
Channel: youtubeTags: 17 2004 art big chair dreams Janet July Kuypers living monitor performance poem poetry prose reading show tv video world
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136, 01:54, 2007-07-25 10:00:21 Description: Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in (More) Janet Kuypers performs this piece, along with poems and prose during the July 17 2007 performance art show "Living in a Big World", live 07/17/07 at the Cafe (5115 North Lincoln Avenue, in Chicago, Illinois). The show contained poems and music from assorted musicins from Wisconsin, Ohio, Tennessee, New Mexico, and even Canada, as well as original sampled music, include the writings listed toward the bottom of this show explanation. But in this show, Janet Kuypers, because shw was exemplifying living in a big world (the title of the show), she drew a large chair, painted it onto a white canvas (which actually was a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together) and attached it to a wooden base, so she could literally sit in a drawing of a large chair (it was 60" wide, actually). The visual display of the artwork projected onto a large paper screen for this show (which once again was actually a bunch of pieces of 8.5" x 11" paper stuck together)was a drawn TV, and inside the TV a bunch of Janet Kuypers photographs from around the world was shown in this "drawn" TV.
Artwork included in the projected "television" display included:
The Reischtag in Berlin Germany, Tiananmen Square in Beijing China, a building in Agrigento in Cicily Italy, Air Force One with President George H. W. Bush at Pease Air Force Base in Omaha, Nebraska, a downed airplane in Joliet, Illinois, an airplane in Naples Florida, the Arbeit Macht Frei gate at the Dachau Concentration Camp in Dachau Germany, Arches National Park in Utah, Arlington National Cemetery in Arlington Virginia, Bad Gastein Austria, as bamboo frest in Oahu Hawaii, a building in Bruxelles.Belgium, castles in Rome, the Chicago skyline from Lake Michigan with superimposed landmarks like an Egyptian pyramid and a building from India and the Eiffel Tower and Big Ben and Russian churches and a mountain from the Alps, the Colloseum in Rome, a mermaid statue in Copenhagen Denmark, the White Cliffs of Dover in England, the Eiffel Tower in Paris France, el Yunque tropical rain forest in Puerto Rico, Tallinn Estonia, Gettysburg Pennsylvania, a gondola in Venice Italy, the Great Wall of China, the Senate Square Cathedral in Helsinki Finland, highrises in Shanghai China, the Hollywood sign in California, hot strings in Wyoming, a destroyed house after Katrina in New Orleans Louisiana, a King Tut like human Egyptian statue in Paris France, the Last Vegas skyline, the Louvre, Luxembourg, Michael Stipe of R.E.M. in Urbana Illinois, a painted building in Montreal Canada, a lefe-side replica of the Parthenon in Nashville Tennessee, a glove statue in front of a church in Omaha Nebraska, a pagoda near Beijing China, salvages wall art work in Pompeii, the Pyramid of Cestius in Rome, St. Petersburg Russia, San Francisco, the Seasttle Space Needle in Washington, Siberia from the sky, a video still of shydiving near the Rockies in Longmont Colorado, the space shuttle in Cape Canaveral, the Statue of Liberty in New Jersey/New York, a stop sign in Mexico (that says "alto"), Stockholm Sweden, Olympic Natl. Park Temperate Rain Forest in Washington, the Temple of Vesta in Rome, the Vatican, and Zurich Switzerland.
These are the writing included in the live show:
the poem: Paranoia
we sit here at dinner.
I try to breathe.
My hands rest on my thighs.
I must watch to be sure,
everything must be right:
the silverware, small fork,
large fork, plate, knife,
large spoon, small spoon.
Water glass. Wine glass.
I know no one else sees them:
the fish, the red fish, in
the curtains along the wall.
You have to watch them.
My eyes always glance there.
They are evil fish. They sit
in the curtains, they wait,
and then they come out.
And the yogurt, the yogurt
is the only thing that can
save me from them. throw
the yogurt, take a spoon,
use your hands. Anything.
And we sat there before
dinner, and he ate his
yogurt with his first spoon
before I could stop him.
How could you do this? How
can you save yourself now?
Will I have to save you again,
do you even understand
the danger
—
the prose: Man Who Talks Loud... Say Nothing
I try to learn about the world, try to understand the world. While first traveling, I did a MidWest tour of poetry, then was in a Chicago poetry show at the National Poetry Slam in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I sell my performance art audio on iTunes & Naster, I try to share myself with the world, but I wonder if I'm actually getting through to anyone.
I heard a Native American man, whose parents were from two different tribes (meaning that he could never truly have an allegiance with just one tribe), say that after he traveled extensively, he tried to tell his story to the people of either tribe, and no one wanted to even listen to him. They called him Ex-eh-ba-che, which means "man who talks loud... say nothing."
Ex-eh-ba-che.
"Man who talks loud... say nothing."
Oh, what am I saying, I've been around the world, but I've never talked to a Native American. That was actually from a movie I saw, I don't even know if "Ex-eh-ba-che" is a real word or means anything.
But... If I want to see something about the world around me, maybe I should turn on the tee vee, I mean, if news channels can have reporters in war zones, there's got to be something worth watching. Maybe I'll just get out the remote and turn on the tee vee, then press the play button and see what's out there in the world.
—
the poem: Fighting I Can Do
I know these are normal things
for me to be going through
I know that I have been raped
and beaten
I know they've tried to kill me
and lucky me, I survived
I think I can survive
everything they throw at me
But as time wears on
little pieces of this statue are chipped away
everybody wants something, right?
well, they've been taking from me
and taking
and taking
and taking
and my defenses are getting weaker
and I don't know how much more
fighting
I can do
—
the poem: I Want
you know what I want?
i want a big house with filtered central air
and i want a big lawn so i can recreate nature
and i want a big fence so i'll know what's mine
and i want the evergreens trimmed into neat little
balls, because it has to look neat. plant everything
in a row.
and i want to spray chemicals on my lawn
to keep the dandelions away
and i want a plastic lobster bib
over my fancy dress at the fancy restaurant
and don't forget the hundred dollar champagne
and i want a big fat car, and i want
someone else to drive it
and i want the two kids, one boy, one girl
and i want a nanny to take care of them for me
i want to be famous
i want everyone to love me
i want it
i want it all
—
the prose: Adjusting Your Beliefs
We lived in Pennsylvania for 6 months, and while I continued my work with cc&d magazine, I got a P.O. box in the town Intercourse Pennsylvania. And actually, it was an amish town, and we would go to the store there to stock up on spices, and the amish people who worked there were all short -
Now, I know I'm tall, but when I say they were short I should also say that their heads looked child-like... that the people working there looked like they had a mild form, or early stages of, downs syndrome. We could only guess by looking at the faces of these people that the Amish had too severe a history of inbreeding, and no one new came into their community.
And recently I was in Champaign to plant a tree, and we stopped at a mall and there was this hydro massage store in the mall - it was this temporary place that had booths set up for individuals to lay down in, and many jets of water pulsated into plastic sheets over the person's body, it was a massage thing that people could pay for. Now, I had seen things like this before, but I was told I should try this, you know, just splurge, so I was in this thing that looked like a tanning bed for your body with your head sticking out at the end, and John talked to a few girls there, because he noticed how they looked liked they were dressed in near Amish, or Mennonite, clothing. And he found out that these girls were in their late teens, and they came in from out of town on a bus trip; yes, they were Amish, but yes, this was a trip sponsored by their Amish community, and one of the girls said she was on this trip to hopefully find a husband.
And it seems that they were doing this, they were allowing this much technology into the outskirts of their lives, to find someone else to have children with.
Ah, the choices we make. The sacrifices we make to help our lives, or the things we are willing to destroy when faced with insurmountable decisions.
—
the poem: A Retired Policeman Talks About Suicides He's Seen
As a cop, I remember one lady,
we found her in her bathtub,
she cut her throat. That's odd,
for women, normally they take pills,
they don't like to disfigure themselves. But she knew what she was
doing, cutting her throat in a full bath.
Less messy that way. Autopsy said
she was full of barbiturates. She was
a nurse, that explained how she knew
how to do it, but then we found out
that she was pregnant, too. And to top
it off, her brother was a priest.
—
the prose: Technology and Communication (which is prose that has a bit of the poem "Communication '05" in it)
Oh, I'm sorry. I was listening to my iPod.
Oh, wait, let me see, maybe I can hook this up to play the music for you.
You know, I was thinking about it - advancements in technology have been a wonderful thing, and many say it's brought the world closer together, have kept people more connected. And on some levels I can totally agree with that - I mean, I read submissions from email, saving paper and ink and postage, I keep magazines on line so people around the world can read good writing, I've even had musicians from Wisconsin, Ohio and Tennessee find my readings and set music to my words.
But in the same respect, I sit all day at the same desk, staring at the web sites for the domain names I run, instead of actually meeting and working with people.
I mean, at one point, the people i emailed the most
lived in the same city as me, and were only a local call away.
in fact, one of my friends lived a block-and-a-half away from me,
on the same street as me, but
i still emailed her as much as i'd call her,
even though i could just walk over to her house
and have an actual conversation with her.
And even the phone, with cell phones you can carry a phone with you wherever you go, so you'll never be lonely, but it seems to give teenagers another reason to talk endlessly on the phone... And I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to attack someone at a bar, who is there with friends, who gets a walkie-talkie-style call from someone, and they take turns screaming their heads off to get little phrases to someone who couldn't even be there with them.
I mean, the iPhone just came out, combining a cell phone with an iPod, as well as email and Internet web browsing. But some bits of technology allow you to tune the world out, like the iPod here. When people see these headphones on someone, they know that you've apparently found something bigger and better than them for their lives right now... But even without technology, when I go for walks every morning, I wear the iPod, but I also wear sunglasses, even if it's overcast, so no one knows if I am studying every person I pass. With a lot of the technology we have now, we can learn about the rest of the world - or we can tune out the rest of the world and ignore any news that doesn't fit in with what we want to believe.
—
the poem: The Carpet Factory, The Shoes
i heard a story today
about a little boy
one of many who was enslaved
by his country
in child labor
in this case
he was working
for a carpet factory
he managed to escape
he told his story
to the world
he was a hero at ten
but the people from the factory
held a grudge
and today i heard
that the little boy
was shot and killed
on the street
he was twelve
and then people complain to me
when i buy shoes
that are made in china
now i have to think
did somebody
have to die for these
will somebody have to die
for these
—
the prose: Differences in China: children & trains
Children in different parts of the world... I saw in China once a little boy outside, a toddler, drop his pants at the street side at a market and just start pissing on the sidewalk. And as I saw this, I saw that all the people there weren't even bothered by this... Someone explained to me that while they're little, toddler boys in China can go to the bathroom like that outside - but if he goes number 2, the mother has to pick up his feces (you know, like they were taking care of a dog).
But on the trains in China, they had a television screen in every car, with clips from what seemed like "America's Funniest Home Videos." Well, I couldn't understand a thing anyone was saying in China on this show on the train, but you couldn't help but watch, and you couldn't help but laugh. It was a great means of bringing levity when you're on a public train, like when you're on your way to work every morning on the el.
—
the poem: Private Lives 2005
sitting on the el train
i saw a middle-eastern man
sitting across from me
holding a large Zip-Loc bag
of some sort of food paste,
i couldn't tell,
it looked like some sort of
curry-filled food paste
and the man looked unhappy,
and after a few minutes
i saw him open up
the Zip-Loc bag,
throw up into it,
then close the bag again
so, he was carrying
his vomit with him
on the el
at least he had a bag
he could seal it up with
—
the prose: Passport To Outer Space
And a lot of us have experiences around the city, and I've tried to see the world, not just this continent, but 15 European countries, Russia, China...
I've searched for these stories around the world, I've gotten my passport stamped like mad... but my sister told me about Don Stump, a friend of my dad's who ran a restaurant, well, his father-in-law apparently bought and had the rights to the space in outer space (you know, like all of the space beyond out atmosphere between planets and stars and comets and asteroids and stuff...). My sister even said that his father-in-law stamped the passports of the astronauts that went into outer space, since they were crossing the areas he owned.
But Don Stump was pushed away from their house once, because at least two men from the FBI were there... Apparently Don's father-in-law was minting coins, it wasn't money that was valid anywhere, but it's illegal for U.S. residents to try to make any sort of profit this way, the way they might have potentially done.
Now, Don and his wife and parents have passed away, so.... I guess there's no way I can pay them for having my passport stamped for going to outer space. But when you're up high in the Earth's atmosphere, a lot of places look the same. I mean, Siberia, with snow peaks and mountain lines along the eastern coast, looks like the Rockies in America in the winter. It's only when you get closer to the ground do you see the real differences.
—
parts of the poem: In The Air
Chicago looks grand from the sky
with this huge expanse of lake
next to it, like civilization crept up
as far as it could but finally had to stop.
The power of nature stopping the power
of mankind... Daylight, and the snow
on the ground in the winter time looks dirty,
too many cars have splashed mud on it as they
drove by. And in the winter the sky
always matches the shade of grey of the snow:
fitting for the city of the Blues.
Maybe the snow is already
that color, that perfect shade of grey,
when it falls from the sky in this city.
When I'm in the air, I like to look
out the window. Clouds look like
cotton balls when you're above them,
and when you're landing cars look like
little ants, on a mission, bringing food
back to their hill. And the
streets look like veins, capillaries in some
massive, monstrous body. And the
farmlands look like little squares of colors.
I wonder why each plot of land is a
different color, what's growing there
that makes them different. Or maybe it's
that some of them are turning shades of red
and brown because they are dying.
And it always seems on a plane that you're stuck
sitting next to someone that is either
too wide for their seat, or is a businessman
with his newspaper stretched out
and his lap top computer on his little
fold out table. Once, when I was on a
flight back from D. C., a flight attendant
walked by, stack of magazines in her
hand, Time, Newsweek, Businessweek,
and I stopped her, asking what magazines
she had. And she replied, "Oh, these
magazines are for men." This is a true
story. And I asked her again what she
had. I had already read Time, so I took Newsweek.
—
the poem: On An Airplane With A Frequent Flyer
"I was once on a flight to Hawaii and I was waiting in line
for the lavatory. There was always a line for a flight
this long, you know, it seemed the washrooms
were always on demand on a flight this long. So
I finally got into the washroom, you know, and I
looked into the toilet, and someone, well, lost the battle
against a very healthy digestive system and left the
"spoils" in the toilet, stuck. Maybe it didn't want to go
down into the sewage tank where all the other
waste from this long trip went to. Can you imagine
all the stuff this airplane had to carry across the ocean?
Well, anyway, so I saw this stuck in the toilet, and I
went to the washroom, and when I was done i flushed and
it still wouldn't budge, and so I opened the door and walked
out into the aisle of the plane again. And there was this
long line of people waiting to use this cramped
little washroom, and I just wanted to tell them all,
'you know, I didn't do that.' And then it occurred to me
that everyone, when they leave the bathroom on that
plane, will think the exact same thing."
—
and the prose: Around the World, & sweet home Chicago
And you know, I talk about travel around the world, but where we come from shows who we are. I mean, once I was on the other side of the world, at the Summer Palace, and an older man came over to me, knowing little english, and said, "My daughter and I wanted to know where you were from." So... not knowing how much geography they knew, I said, "I'm from the United States, in Illinois, in Chicago." And that's when this old man from the other side of the world said, "oh... my kind of town." And I started laughing, knowing the song, and then he said, "Frank Sinatra sang that." and I laughed more, then realizing that although I try to learn about the world, but my soul still hold on to my Chicago roots, other editors even comment on my style of writing being affected by being from the MidWest, being from Chicago... being from here affects my style and my art, oftentimes as much as my family history.
I talk about learning stories from around the world, but I think we can also learn from stories right here, and as we live in this big world, it helps us to not feel small, but to grow larger than life.
—
For more information on this writing and other writings from Janet Kuypers, go to http://www.janetkuypers.com for more information and details. (Less)
Channel: youtubeTags: 17 2004 art big chair dreams Janet July Kuypers living monitor performance poem poetry prose reading show tv video world
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2907, 05:55, 2008-04-01 22:39:07 Description: It may be a revelation to many people that the global drug trade iscontrolled and run by the intelligence agencies. In this global drug trade British intelligence reigns supreme. As intelligence (More) It may be a revelation to many people that the global drug trade iscontrolled and run by the intelligence agencies. In this global drug trade British intelligence reigns supreme. As intelligence insiders know MI5 and MI6 control many of the other intelligence agencies in the world (CIA, MOSSAD etc) in a vast web of intrigue and corruption that has its global power base in the city of London, the square mile. My name is James Casbolt, and I worked for MI6 in 'black ops' cocaine trafficking with the IRA and MOSSAD in London and Brighton between 1995 and 1999. My father Peter Casboltwas also MI6 and worked with the CIA and mafia in Rome, trafficking cocaine into Britain. My experience was that the distinctions of all these groups became blurred until in the end we were all one international group working together for the same goals. We were puppets who had our strings pulled by global puppet masters based in the city of London. Most levels of the intelligence agencies are not loyal to the people of the country they are based in and see themselves as 'super national'.It had been proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that the CIA has been bringing in most of the drugs into America for the last fifty years (see ex LAPD officer Michael Rupert's 'From the wilderness' website for proof). The CIA operates under orders from British intelligence and was created by British intelligence in 1947. The CIA today is still loyal to the international bankers based in the city of London and the global elite aristocratic families like the Rothschild's and the Windsor's. Since it was first started, MI6 has always brought drugs into Britain. They do not bring 'some' of the drugs into Britain but I would estimate MI6 bring in around ninety percent of the drugs in. They do this by pulling the strings of many organised crime and terrorist groups and these groups like the IRA are full of MI6 agents.MI6 bring in heroin from the middle east, cocaine from south America and cannabis from morocco as well as other places. British intelligence also designed and created the drug LSD in the 1950's through places like the Tavistock Institute in London. By the 1960's MI5, MI6 and the CIA were using LSD as a weapon against the angry protestors of the sixties and turned them into 'flower children' who were too tripped out to organise a revolution.Dr Timothy Leary the LSD guru of the sixties was a CIA puppet. Funds and drugs for Leary's research came from the CIA and Leary says that Cord Meyer, the CIA agent in charge of funding the sixties LSD counter culture has"helped me to understand my political cultural role more clearly". In 1998, I was sent 3000 LSD doses on blotting paper by MI5 with pictures of the European union flag on them. The MI5 man who sent them told my father this was a government 'signature' and this LSD was called 'Europa'.This global drugs trade controlled by British intelligence is worth at least 500 billion a year. This is more than the global oil trade and the economy in Britain and America is totally dependent on this drug money. Mafia crime boss John Gotti exposed the situation when asked in court if he was involved in drug trafficking. He replied "No we can't compete with the government". I believe this was only a half truth because the mafia and the CIA are the same group at the upper levels. In Britain, the MI6 drug money is laundered through the Bank of England, Barclays Bank and other household name companies. The drug money is passed from account to account until its origins are lost in a huge web of transactions. The drug money comes out 'cleaner' but not totally clean. Diamonds are then bought with this money from the corrupt diamond business families like the Oppenheimers. Thesediamonds are then sold and the drug money is clean. MI6 and the CIA are also responsible for the crack cocaine epidemic in Britain and America. In 1978, MI6 and the CIA were in south America researching the effects of the natives smoking 'basuco' cocaine paste. This has the same effect as crack cocaine. They saw that the strength and addiction potential was far greater than ordinary cocaine and created crack cocaine from the basuco formula. MI6 and the CIA then flooded Britain and America with crack. Two years later, in1980, Britain and America were starting to see the first signs of the crack cocaine epidemic on the streets. On august 23, 1987, in a rural community south of Little Rock in America, two teenage boys named Kevin Ives and Don Henry were murdered and dismembered after witnessing a CIA cocaine drop that was part of a CIA drug trafficking operation based at a small airport in Mena, Arkansas. Bill Clinton was the governor of Arkansas at the time. Bill Clinton was involved with the CIA at this time and $100 million worth of cocaine was coming through the Mena, Arkansas airport each month. For proofsee the books 'Compromise' and 'Dope Inc'.On my father's international MI6 drug runs, whatever fell off the back of the lorry so to speak he would keep and we would sell it in Britain. As long as my father was meeting the speedboats from Morocco in the Costa del Sol and then moving the lorry loads of cannabis through their MI6, IRA lorry business into Britain every month, British intelligence were happy. As long as my father was moving shipments of cocaine out of Rome every month, MI5 and MI6 were happy. If my father kept a bit to sell himself no one cared because there was enough drugs and money to go round in this £500 billion a year global drugs trade. The ones who were really paying were the people addicted. Who were paying with suffering. But karma always catches up and both myself and my father became addicted to heroin in later years and my father died addicted, and poor in prison under very strange circumstances. Today, I am clean and drug-free and wish to help stop the untold suffering this global drugs trade causes. The intelligence agencies have always used addictive drugs as a weapon against the masses to bring in their long term plan for a one world government, a one world police force designed to be NATO and a micro chipped population known as the New World Order. As the population is in a drug or alcohol-induced trance watching 'Coronation Street', the new world order is being crept in behind them.To properly expose this global intelligence run drugs trade we need toexpose the key players in this area:1- Tibor Rosenbaum, a MOSSAD agent and head of the Geneva based Banque du Credit international. This bank was the forerunner to the notorious Bank of Credit and Commerce international (BCCI) which is a major intelligence drug money laundering bank. 'Life' magazine exposed Rosenbaum's bank as a money launderer for the Meyer Lanksky American organised crime family and Tibor Rosenbaum funded and supported 'Permindex' the MI6 assassination unit whichwas at the heart of the John F. Kennedy assassination.2- Robert Vesco, sponsored by the Swiss branch of the Rothchilds and part of the American connection to the Medellin drug cartel in Columbia.3- Sir Francis de Guingand, former head of British intelligence, now living in south Africa (and every head of MI5 and MI6 has been involved in the drug world before and after him).4- Henry Keswick, chairman of Jardine Matheson which is one of the biggest drug trafficking operations in the world. His brother John Keswick is chairman of the bank of England.5- Sir Martin Wakefield Jacomb, Bank of England director from 1987 to 1995, Barclays Bank Deputy Chairman in 1985, Telegraph newspapers director in 1986 ( This is the reason why this can of worms doesn't get out in the mainstream media. The people who are perpetrating these crimes control most of the mainstream media. In America former director of the CIA William Casey was, before his death in 1987, head of the council of the media network ABC. Manyinsiders refer to ABC as 'The CIA network.)6- George Bush, Snr, former President and former head of the CIA and America's leading drug baron who has fronted more wars on drugs than any other president. Which in reality is just a method to eliminate competition. A whole book could be written on George Bush's involvement in the global drug trade but it is well-covered in the book 'Dark Alliance' by investigative journalist Gary Webb.Gary Webb was found dead with two gunshot wounds to the back of his head with a revolver. The case was declared a 'suicide'. You figure that out. Gary Webb as well as myself and other investigators, found that much of this 'black ops' drug money is being used to fund projects classified ab ove top secret. These projects include the building and maintaining of deep level underground bases in Dulce in New Mexico, Pine gap in Australia, Snowy mountains in Australia, The Nyala range in Africa, west of Kindu in Africa, next to the Libyan border in Egypt, Mount Blanc in Switzerland, Narvik in Scandinavia, Gottland island in Sweden and many other places around the world (more about these underground bases in my next issue). The information on this global drugs trade run by the intelligence agencies desperately needs to get out on a large scale. Any information, comments or feedback to help me with my work would be greatly welcomed. After the completion of my last article 'MI6 are the lords of the global drug trade' I must now present the full picture as to what the intelligence community drug trafficking money is being used for.I need to do this for many reasons. The truth must come out and I need to protect my family and myself. If any of us were to come to a premature end it would only add more credibility to what I am saying. Therefore by presenting the following I am protecting us.Government harassment and surveillance of me has increased since going public with the last article. I believe this has now become a 'national security' issue. I have had my life threatened, men situated in the hotel opposite my flat taking photographs of me using a high tech, long range camera which uses a blue laser, my phone line and my girlfriends mother's phone line tapped, my information hacked into and taken off multiple websites and e-mails from government officials blocked.I believe this is because I am leaking information on projects classified 'above top secret' which I will go into in detail in this article. The intelligence run drug trafficking is only classified 'secret'.My name is James Casbolt and I worked in MI6 covert cocaine trafficking operations with the IRA in London between 1995 and 1999. My father Peter Casbolt was also MI6 and worked with the CIA and mafia in Rome in 1993 on covert cocaine and heroin trafficking operations.The global drugs trade run by many factions of the global intelligence community co-operating together (MI6, CIA, MOSSAD etc) is worth at least £500 billion a year. This is more than the global oil trade. MI6 control many of the other intelligence agencies in the world. MI6 created the CIA in 1947 and still control them today. This 'black ops' drug money or in classic Orwellian terms, MI6/CIA 'non-appropriated funds' is being used to fund government and military projects classified 'Above top secret'.These operations include a huge worldwide UFO cover up and the building and maintaining of deep underground military bases (D.U.M.B.S).There are many of these bases worldwide but here is small list.1- Dulce in New Mexico 2-Brecon Beacons in Wales 3-Los Alamos in Mexico 4- Pine Gap in Australia 5- The Snowy mountains in Australia 5- The Nyala range in Africa 6- West of Kindu in Africa 6- Next to the Libyan border in Egypt 7- Mount Blanc in Switzerland 8- Narvik in Scandinavia 9- Gottland island in Sweden and many other places. These projects are being run by a secret, unelected international governing body connected to the U.N.There are at least 1400 of these D.U.M.B.S worldwide. 131 in the US. With 2 underground bases being built per year in the US at the moment. The average depth of the bases are four and a quarter miles underground ( some shallower and some deeper ). The bases are on average the size a medium sized city. Each DUMB base costs between 17 and 26 billion dollars to build which is funded by MI6/CIA drug money. Each underground base employs 10000 to 18000 workers. A nuclear powered drill it used to dig underground. This drill goes through rock at a tremendous rate and literally melts the rock away to form a smooth glass like surface around the edges of the tunnels.On May 20 I personally received information from a former member of the NSA (National security agency) through a third party. I wish to protect this man's identity and so I will call him 'G'. This is the first time this information is being made public.G was subcontracted by the NSA in the late 1980's and worked for the NSA until 1992. He was a senior electrical engineer in the Los Alamos underground base in New Mexico. G also worked at the Alamo Gordo DUMB in New Mexico and an underground base in Hawaii. He said the Los Alamos base goes two miles underground and is the size of a small city.Whilst there he witnessed rows of caged humans, tall grey aliens and a reptilian alien. G says the NSA was very hard on all subcontractors and people were worked very hard under severe conditions.According to G the US federal government, the USAF and the DOE (department of energy) run the Hawaii DUMB he worked at. This base goes down two miles and stretches out into the Pacific Ocean.It was here that three very tall and muscular 'Nordic' looking men (who according to G were reptilian/human hybrids because their eyes would 'shift' into having vertical slits for pupils) chased him along the motorway there and threatened to kill him because he had overheard them talking about some piece of high technology.Understandably G has been emotionally scarred from these experiences and does not like talking to people about them.I was also told on May 23 from this source that in June there would be a huge amount of HAARP engineered earthquakes on the west coast of America and that the DUMBS there had already been evacuated and shut down. This was one hundred percent accurate because between the 21 and 28 of June there were at least 400 earthquakes on the West Coast of America.I posted all this information on the God like productions forum on the net and within hours the post was hacked into and removed.By executive order the NSA is exempt from all laws which do not specifically name the NSA in the text of the law, which basically means they can do whatever they want and are answerable to no one.This is because of its interaction with extra-terrestrial species and its twisted view that the people are children and cannot handle the truth.There is currently an internal war raging in the global intelligence community regarding the alien agenda. This is between negative and positive factions. From my understanding one of the main negative factions is a group centred around MI6 and the CIA called 'Aquarius'. This group is covering up the truth, blatantly lying and discrediting or murdering anyone who gets too close to exposing what is going on. There is also a positive group centred around naval intelligence called 'Comm 12' which is leaking accurate information regarding the alien agenda into the public arena.When the missile (not plane) hit the pentagon on 9-11, it hit the naval intelligence section of the building. This was part of the internal war between Aquarius and Comm 12 being played out.Aquarius has also enlisted the help of Hollywood and the mainstream media to twist the facts of the alien agenda and blind the public to the truth. Sir Martin Wakefield Jacomb was director for the telegraph newspapers in 1986. He is also connected into MI6 and is involved with laundering MI6 drug money through the bank of England. Jacomb was the director of the bank of England from 1987 to 1995. Former head of the CIA William Casey was head of the council of the media network ABC. Many Insiders refer to the ABC network as 'The CIA network'.The grey and reptilian aliens working together with the military in the underground bases is called MIEC (military industrial extra- terrestrial complex). This is a malevolent organisation, as you shall see with the following information. There are also benevolent ET's on this planet. These groups are not part of the MIEC and are from the Pleiades, Andromeda, Lyra, Procyon, Tau Ceti, Sirius A, and Ummo. These groups seem to work together in some kind of protective 'federation'.On February 20, 1954 a delegation from these groups met with the Eisenhower administration in an unsuccessful effort to reach an agreement on the US's thermonuclear weapons program. The stumbling block to these negotiations was that these ET's were not willing to provide technology that might have been used by the military-industrial factions of the Eisenhower administration. These peace loving 'human looking' beings refused to be co-opted into the emerging military industrial extra terrestrial complex (MIEC) in the US, Britain, Russia and elsewhere on the planet.On July 11, 1934 the first treaty with the greys from Orion occurred aboard a naval ship in Balboa. This was one of the most important events in human history because it thrust us into a role we were not repared for as regards to being a host to a malevolent extra-terrestrial race. The US federal government disregarded the constitution of the United States by doing this and not telling the people. It was here that the agreement was first made between the greys representing the reptilians from Orion and representatives of the US intelligence community. The treaty stated that in return for the greys providing high technology (anti-gravity, metals and alloys, nvironment, free energy and medical technology) the government would allow the greys to proceed unhindered with human abductions. This was only if a list of abductees was provided to the government and the abductees returned nharmed with their memories of the events erased.In 1944 the second extension of the treaty was signed. I have very little details of this.In May 1954 again under the Eisenhower administration the third extension of this treaty was signed called 'The Greada treaty'. The greys and reptilians blatantly broke the terms of this treaty as we shall see later in this information. The greada treaty was agreed upon at the Holloman air force base in New Mexico by the greys and the 'Ultra' unit in the NSA. The original document of this treaty and the ET materials from it can be found today at the NSA facility called 'Blue moon' underneath Kirkland air force base in New Mexico. The entrance to this underground base is in the Manzano Mountains. Also at this location is the technological base of the secretive department of energy (DOE). Today free energy devices developed from grey and reptilian technology are being built for use in space at the DOE base.On April 15 1964 two intelligence personnel met under 'project Plato' with the greys in the New Mexico desert to arrange a meeting on April 25 at Holloman air force base in New Mexico. This meeting was to renew the treaty again in a psychological bid to buy time in order to solve the problem of the greys and reptilians.A truly nightmarish situation is now unfolding. Phil Schneider was a geologist, structural engineer and underground tunnelling expert for the US government and the UN. He participated in the construction of many DUMBS in North America and other countries. Phil was murdered by the CIA on January 17 1996 in his apartment in Wilsonville in Portland, Oregon.In 1979 in Dulce New Mexico, Phil Schneider was drilling into the desert there to build an auxiliary base in the southern end of Dulce on top of an already existing underground base there. The already existing base had been built by the US government in the 1940's under ' operation blue note' but afterwards had been taken over by greys and reptilians. Over a period of two days Phil and his team had drilled four holes in the desert that went down several thousand feet.One of the holes kept bringing up dirty dust, putrid odours and broken off machine bits that were sent down the hole. Boring machines and lasers came back up damaged when they were sent down there. A probe was then sent down that came back up totally missing. Eventually people were sent down. Phil was the first person to go. He was lowered down into the cave and when he got down there, standing around ten feet away were two seven-foot greys. He became petrified but managed to empty one clip from his pistol into the greys. As he was reloading one of the greys hit Phil with some kind of particle beam weapon which gave him a very high dose of nuclear radiation poisoning, similar to cobalt radiation but even worse. Phil's lung was burnt out of him and he has a huge scar running down his chest which he showed at his lectures which are available on video google.com. His fingers on his left hand were burnt off, his bones were burnt. He was basically cooked.He was in radiation isolation therapy for 400 days plus. In the cave large metallic vats were found filled with human body parts, generally glands. In the vats were high tech stirring devices that stopped the blood coagulating.In Aztec in New Mexico on the 13 February 1948 a crashed flying disk was retrieved by the US military. The craft was 100 feet in diameter was made of a light metal resembling aluminum and contained ET reptilian bodies. A large number of human body parts were also found on board the craft.The 'above top secret' security lid was screwed down on this even tighter than Roswell to stop mass panic.The very next day after the crash (the craft was probably shot down by the military) the government bought up the property from the local landowners. Witnesses in Aztec observed covered military trucks going in and out of the area for days after the crash.The craft was transported to Wright Patterson air force base. The disc incorporated large rings of metal which revolved around a central stabilized cabin. There were no rivets, bolts, screws or signs of wielding.People in Aztec carefully guard their words as to the accounts of the crashed disk. The Aztec citizens are still being monitored by the military to this day. One elderly woman said her husband watched the military trucks going in and out of the crash area for days. She said she was very nervous about the whole thing and didn't want to talk about any of it other than her husband seeing the military vehicles. She was asked if she believed there had been a UFO crash. Her response was " If something hadn't happened out there, how come the military rushed right in... why was the covered military trucks going in and out of the canyon...why did they deny being there...and why were they buying the near and surrounding land where the UFO supposedly crashed?In Cambodia in 1972 at the height of the Vietnam war, a US special operations team out on patrol came across a group of alien creatures loading various human body parts into large metal containers and sealing them. A pitched battle ensued, which resulted in fatalities on both sides. As the soldiers pulled back the aliens quickly retreated to their craft taking the body parts with them. As usual a major cover-up was quickly enforced.One of my contacts in Wales who I will call 'D' to protect his identity, was approached by an elite intelligence organisation called 'Group 5-8'. This group was formed by Margaret Thatcher in the 1980's to work at the sights of crashed ET craft in Britain. This is the first time this information is being made public.Even though group 5-8 was formed by Margaret Thatcher it is a UN group. The group 5-8 man called George showed my contact a UN identity card with UN holograms on it. George then drove D to a clandestine meeting on a motorway services.It was here that George showed D photographs of human mutilations they had found near the heavily guarded Breaken beacon DUMB in Wales. These photos were taken at a sealed off area where UFO activity had taken place.The photos showed a girl of sixteen and a boy of twenty who had their genitals removed, eyeballs removed, lips removed and directly half of their skin was missing. George said group 5-8 regularly found camper vans around this area where the occupants had vanished.D understandably had nightmares for weeks after this and was soon after followed by a high-tech American utility van with blue lights underneath it. I believe this was a NSA van.Days after this D had his life threatened over the phone. The call was anonymous but told him to keep quite or his house would be burnt down with him in it. George then called D and told him his life was in danger and to get the information out as soon as possible to protect himself. The next day a gasman turned up pulled out his ID the moment the door was opened walked in and checked the metre. When he left a fire broke out which nearly burnt down the house with D and his wife in it. The house was wrecked and the fire brigade said the fire had mysteriously started in the bin in the room where the gasman was.After this D another man and myself were investigating reports of a DUMB and missing children around the small village of Zennor in Cornwall. There had been many sightings of alien beings on the cliffs there since the 1960's and many UFO sightings around the area and large amounts of covert military activity. Some of the UFO's had disappeared into the ocean there according to witnesses.Two years ago a Devon and Cornwall police project classified 'secret' had gone on. This was a dig for the mass graves of children by the police. They had traced the reports of many missing children to this area. This is classified information that D managed to get hold of from his contacts. Once again this is the first time this information is being made public. From that I can gather the police did not find any bodies and the digging area was walled off from the public.I believe the police were looking in the wrong place because the activity seems to be coming from underground. When the poet D.H Lawrence stayed at a small cottage in Zennor he heard explosions coming from deep underground. And Aleister Crowley who was an MI6 agent spent much time at Zennor. As already stated MI6 and the CIA are heavily involved in the alien agenda and I believe Aleister Crowley was up to his neck in it.Aleister Crowley had performed many satanic rituals at a cottage in Zennor (there seems to be a close connection with Satanism and the greys and reptilians). At this cottage one night after Crowley left that a woman named Ka Cox died of a stroke and her husband went insane and ended up in Bodmin mental asylum. The man said a reptilian being had materialised in the house and I believe Ka Cox died of fright after seeing this. The police files pertaining to her death were stolen from the police station after this.Aleister Crowley was also at Montauk in New York when the project was in full swing and there is a quantum energy grid line that runs from Montauk to Zennor and the Men An Tol ancient stones in Cornwall.After the fire at D's house everything had been quite for a couple of years. All of a sudden after two days into our missing children investigation at Zennor, D had men outside his bedroom window shining lights in. This is an intimidation tactic used by the intelligence agencies.I have only scratched the surface of what is going on at Zennor as there is not room to go into it all here. The bigger picture will be made public soon.So what is going on with these human mutilations and missing people?. The truth of the matter is that the greys and reptilians feed off the glandular secretions and hormones through a type of osmosis. This is why major organs are taken from people. Your mind may want to go into denial that this is happening but if you start digging you will find this is 100% true. On the Crowed skies website there is video smuggled out of the Dulce underground facility that shows greys inside vats absorbing these blood mixtures through their skin.Researchers Bill Hamilton and Tal XXXXXX (AKA Jason Bishop) received reports from workers at the Dulce DUMB who worked there in the mid 1970's when it was being jointly run by the CIA, greys and reptilians. This was before the ET's completely took the base over and kicked the humans out.The workers said the Dulce facility goes down at least seven levels. Level six is privately called 'nightmare hall' amongst workers. They tell of bizarre experimentation and multi-legged humans that look half human and half octopus, reptilian humanoids, furry creatures with hands like humans that cry like a baby, and mimic human words. Also a huge mixture of lizard humans in cages, several cages of winged humans, three and a half to seven feet tall bat like creatures and gargoyle like beings. In level seven are thousands of rows of human and human genetic mixtures in cold storage, humanoid embryo storage vats with embryos in various stages of development. Other workers said they witnessed scenes even more terrifying than this and refused to talk about them. One worker told Bill Hamilton " I frequently encountered humans in cages, usually dazed or drugged, but sometimes they cried and begged for help. We were told they were insane and involved in high-risk drug tests to cure insanity. We were told never to speak to them at all. At the beginning we believed the story. Finally in 1978 a smallgroup of workers discovered the truth".Thomas Castello was one of the security workers at the Dulce facility. Thomas worked seven years for the Rand Corporation in California. He was transferred to Dulce in 1977. He estimated there were more than 18000 short greys at Dulce and also saw tall reptilians.Thomas knew of seven levels but said there could have been more. He said the aliens were on levels five, six and seven. The lower you go the higher the security clearance is needed. The only sign in English is above the tube shuttle system and says 'To Los Alamos'. The tube shuttle travels at mach 2.7. Most signs at the Dulce facility are in the alien symbol language and a universal system understood by humans and ET's. Thomas said the other shuttle connections from Dulce went to Page Arizona, Area 51 Nevada, Taos Carlsbad, Datil New Mexico, Colorado Springs and Creede Colorado. Thomas also said there is a vast number of tube shuttle connections under the United States which extend into a global system of tunnels to other underground bases in other countries.Thomas Castello said that below the second level of the Dulce facility everyone is weighed naked and given a uniform. Any change in weight is noted and if there is a change in weight of three pounds or more the people are x-rayed. At the entrance to all sensitive areas are scales and the persons weight must match with their ID card and code to gain entry.Thomas Castello smuggled many things out of the Dulce facility before he escaped which included twenty seven sheets of 8x10 photos of alien and genetic creatures in vats. One silent surveillance camera video tape, which begins with showing computer banks then vats, multi shots of nightmare hall, two shots of greys, one shot of the terminal sign saying 'To Los Alamos' and thirty seconds of the shuttle train arriving.Twenty five pages of diagrams, chemical formulas, schematics and alien equipment.* A copy of the new government/alien treaty with signatures.* Two pages of original documents signed by Ronald Reagan (then governor of California). Each page has Ronald Reagan's signature plus other political signatures and four alien signatures.* Thomas Castello's 'flash gun' (a laser type weapon used by the security officers at Dulce).* Thomas put the original set of these items in a sealed, one piece oxygen free heavy plastic box. Five sets of copies are in five different boxes in five different locations guarded by five different individuals known only to Thomas Castello.I understand these individuals would be scared to leak this proof as Thomas Castello's wife and child were kidnapped and then disappeared in Puerto Rico not long after this (now presumed dead). But if any of you are reading this then please contact me anonymously and we can arrange for you to send me a copy. I will be able to get it out on a large scale. My e-mail address will be at the end of this article.This is part of an interview with Thomas Castello before he disappeared- " I am saying there are aliens in several underground bases in this country and terrible things happen in those places. If I die before it is proven search for proof. Demand that the government admit it. If enough people demand it they will find a way to explain the base or at least explain why they must keep it secret. There are many people that work at Dulce that know me. I am challenging those co-workers to speak up anonymously. Send a letter to confirm what I have explained. In the name of the brave men, women, children and aliens that died trying to let the public know what is going on at the Dulce facility. Expose that horrid place before thousands more innocent people are tortured and die unspeakable deaths".The Rand corporation which is involved in the construction of these underground bases has released ' The Roper report'. This is now a third generation report that says according to their research one in ten people have been abducted and implanted by the Greys and reptilians and returned with their memories erased. This report has been sent out to one hundred and ten thousand clinical psychiatrists in the US.The Roper report also states that women are being raped by reptilian ET's as part of a ongoing genetic program by them. As fantastic as this sounds it is backed up by some of the world's top MD's like John Mack and many others. There are some ninety concerned psychiatric scientists in the US who are trying to form an organisation to prevent secrecy on this horrendous situation.They say that because of the alien/government treaties this amounts to government sponsored rape. According to the Roper report 99.3% of the abductees being used in this ongoing genetic ET program are female and 0.7% are male.I have personally seen intelligence documents of studies into the Grey and Reptilian problem that show they are involved in genetic sabotage of the human race. The Grey and Reptilian alien agenda is to slowly and covertly take over the planet in the next thirty years, reduce the population and run the planet from underground using the surface population as food to be taken when and how they wish. The British, Russian and US government is shooting down around one Grey and Reptilian craft a month with particle beam weapons developed from Tesla technology.The Russians have areas the size of football fields full of crashed ET craft. If that is not a full-scale invasion I don't know what is.The British, Russian and US government have become 'blood brothers' and the best of friends because of the alien agenda. The Russian and US cold war was feigned animosity and a sham so these governments could develop nuclear weapon programs to counter the alien threat.The cold war was a lie for the public to take the attention away from what the nuclear weapons program was really being developed for, not against Russia but as a last resort against the Greys and Reptilians.The headquarters of the secret international governing body in charge of dealing with the ET phenomenon is in Geneva, Switzerland. The ruling body is made up of representatives of the governments involved as well as the executive members of the group known as the Bilderburgers. As I have said the British, American and Russian governments are working very closely together because of the Grey/Reptilian threat to the planet. Although the situation is so horrendous that these governments have shattered into panicked factions, some of which have 'sold out' and are directly helping the Greys and Reptilians.According to very credible US government insider William Cooper the most important meetings of this secret international governing body are held by the policy committee on a nuclear submarine beneath the polar ice caps.The secrecy is such that this is the only method to make certain the meetings cannot be bugged and is the only place they will discuss their biggest secrets.It would be wrong and cruel of me to present his information without presenting the full picture. The Greys and reptilians from Orion have been involved in an ancient war with the Benevolent Pleiadians and other groups. The Pleiadians are a very powerful group and are the guardians of this solar system. I personally do not believe they will let the grey/reptilian agenda fully unfold. They have helped us in the past, are helping us now and will help us in the future.I know this because I have had many Para-normal ET contact experiences since childhood. There is not room to go into detail here but is covered in the 'Above top secret' presentation with investigative journalist Dave Starbuck. Type 'revelation audio visual-Dave star buck' into a search engine to find.I have very clear photographic evidence of benevolent Pleiadian ET's materialising in my house and a box of 'channelled' communications with these beings. These photographs will stand up to a computer grain analysis test because they are all one hundred percent real. I also do not have the knowledge or technology to fake them. One photo shows a very clear face materialising in front of me. I also have post traumatic stress disorder from abductions and other contacts with malevolent reptilian entities. Again these are covered in 'Above top secret'.There is a massive number of missing children in Britain, America and other places connected to these underground bases. The figure in Britain seems to be at least twenty thousand children dissappear without a trace every year. In a 1995 classified CIA, DIA (defence intelligence agency) and FBI report, it stated that one hundred thousand children and one million adults disappear and are never found in the US every year.You may ask yourself how is this being covered up. As was mentioned at the beginning of the article, the same group working with the greys and reptilians which is MI6, CIA and the MIEC, own and control the mainstream media.In 2001 Scotland Yard police revealed that it had been unable to find three hundred black boys aged between four to seven that disappeared from London in a three-month period. The three hundred boys were reported missing between July and September in 2001.Journalist Yinka Sunmonu an expert in missing children told the BBC's Today program "Children are here one day and gone the next".In 1989 in Westchester, New York which was the site of numerous UFO overflights and reports of human abductions at that time. Over three thousand missing children reports surfaced. After extensive investigation by local police departments the children were not found at red light districts or centres for run a ways. Researchers and law enforcement officials were baffled.There is also the CIA 'finders case'. This involved negative factions of the CIA directly involved in child kidnapping. This was revealed in a 1987 US customs report. Customs and police raided a Washington DC warehouse which was used by the CIA. There they found a set of instructions broadcast via a computer network which advised the CIA to move a huge amount of kidnapped children that were originally being held at the warehouse (customs and police found large amount of nappies and other things there) and to keep them moving across jurisdictions. There were instructions on impregnation of female teenagers and also instructions on how to avoid police detection. The destination for the children in the instructions was New Mexico.The Albuquerque journal ran an article entitled ' Why New Mexico has so many more missing children than comparable states remains a mystery'.Much of this activity is centred around New Mexico where the Dulce underground facility is.One male survivor of the MI6/CIA mind control project Monarch described in 'The illuminati formula' by Fritz Springmeir, the china lake naval base at Ridgecrest in the California desert. This anonymous man says batches of children numbering one, two and three thousand were kept in cages piled up to the ceiling of large hangers. He says these cages are called 'woodpecker grids'. These are electrified and the children were tortured with electric shocks.Children are today still being transported to china lake naval base by train, car and air. One of the main delivery routes for children into China Lake is by plane from the Santa Rosa airstrip near Bohemian grove. The Santa Rosa airstrip is supposed to be closed, yet planes take off from there every night and do not put there lights on until they are hundreds of feet in the air.The Nazi geneticist and mind control scientist Joseph Mengela 'The angel of death' from the Auschwitz concentration camp was brought to America after the war by MI6 and the OSS (which became the CIA) in project paperclip. Many other leading Nazi mind control experts, rocket scientists and geneticists were also brought to America and Britain after the war.Joseph Mengela stayed at the China Lake base and the Tavistock institute in London.China Lake naval base is in the same as Lancaster, California. It was in Lancaster the mass graves of mutilated children were discovered.By the sheer amount of evidence the only conclusion I can come to is that certain sections of the US and British government have sold us and our children out to malevolent ET's in backdoor treaties. The situation is truly grim. Come on people, time to wake up! The new world order and UN one world government is this rigid control structure to clamp the people of the world into a totalitarian vice so they won't have to tell us about the aliens.I also believe that certain sections of the intelligence community and the US and British government are directly helping the Greys and Reptilians with their takeover agenda. Evidence seems to point to the ET's promising these humans certain powers when this happens. The name of the powerful secretive group 'The Tri lateral commission' is taken from the Orion Grey/Reptilian flag known as the Tri lateral insignia. This shows how much trouble the Human race is in.There is now an apathy amongst the people towards world events that is deadly and contagious. This is especially true of the people of Britain. We have truly become a nation of sheep.I challenge you to shake off that apathy and challenge your government to tell you the truth. Please send letters copies of this article to your local government officials and distribute it amongst your friends and family. This information desperately needs to get out on a large scale as possible but I cannot do this on my own, I need your help.There is a huge amount of pressure on the governments to go public on the ET scenario, but there is also a huge amount of pressure on them not to go public as well. We need to demand our government officials tell us the truth about the ET scenario and if they do not we must impeach them.If there are any government officials or intelligence personnel who still have a conscious and would like to provide me with information on any of the areas covered in this article or information on any other areas, please contact me at the e-mail addresses below. I will also be willing to meet you face to face.The time is 12.55 am, I have just got off the phone with my colleague who I work with investigating deep underground military bases (DUMBS), missing children and Extra-terrestrials. My friend who I will call 'S' to protect his identity lives in Southampton. Last night at around 1.00am his neighbour heard the metal shutters on the shop were 'S' lives banging open and shut, so he came out to investigate.In front of the shop were two men dressed in black, one was white and the other Asian. (The men who were taking photographs of me earlier this year were also dressed in black and these clothes looked like they were military style-see my last article What you need to know for your future,). They menacingly eyeballed my friend's neighbour who could see the shutters moving up and down but nobody was touching them!The neighbour became scared and went back inside. This noise carried on and attracted the attention of other neighbours on the street who started to come out of their houses until there were over 40 people outside his shop. The men dressed in black had disappeared by this time but the shutters were still moving up and down, making a lot of noise.Two police arrived at the scene and called for back up when they saw the commotion and a total of fifteen police officers then turned up. They tried to wake 'S' by knocking but unbeliveably he did not wake up. I have stayed with 'S' at his shop and believe me this would wake most people up who were asleep in there.The metal shutters continued to move up and down for over two hours after this and the police were telling people not to be alarmed as they were moving electronically and would run out of energy soon. After 3.00am they stopped and the neighbours returned home.The amazing thing about this is that THESE SHUTTERS CAN ONLY BE MOVED MANUALLY BY HAND AND THERE IS NO ELECTRONIC DEVICE CONNECTED TO THEM! Many of the neighbours knew this and that is why they were so alarmed. The police came back in the morning and when 'S' got up he was met by burst water pipes in his flat and police outside wanting to talk to him.I know from my contacts in the NSA and CIA that the military black op, technology is far in advance of anything we see in the public domain and can do things that may seem unbelievable to our conditioned view of reality. I believe this was a psy-op military intimidation tactic to scare us into stopping our investigations into the underground base and ET situation.The Southampton police were at a loss to explain the situation and were looking to 'S' for answers. 'S' did not go into detail about what we had uncovered but showed the officers some photos of UFO's that had appeared in the sky over the shop a couple of weeks before. One of the officers replied "Your shop is possessed by demons".This may seem unbelievable to many people but this case is all on police file and 'S' will be able to have access to the surveillance street camera footage on Monday. He will have to pay £10 for the tape and hopefully this will show the black ops boys on it. We have also had black helicopter harassment over the last few weeks.If any of you are reading this I have a message for you..., These acts of desperation show what a panic you are in trying to keep the Above Top Secret lid on the underground base and ET situation. The truth is coming! (Less)
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