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  <title>turn on the dark... i&apos;m scarred of the light</title>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/</link>
  <description>turn on the dark... i&apos;m scarred of the light - LiveJournal.com</description>
  <lastBuildDate>Thu, 28 Aug 2003 00:12:07 GMT</lastBuildDate>
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  <lj:journal>marktwain</lj:journal>
  <lj:journalid>1013315</lj:journalid>
  <lj:journaltype>personal</lj:journaltype>
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    <title>turn on the dark... i&apos;m scarred of the light</title>
    <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/</link>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/15020.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Thu, 28 Aug 2003 00:12:07 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>good bye</title>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/15020.html</link>
  <description>for personal reasons i&apos;m no longer going to be using this journal. i want to thank all those that took time out of their own lives to comment on mine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so... yeah have nice lives and good luck in all you do.</description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/13576.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Tue, 12 Aug 2003 03:02:49 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>view from back porch</title>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/13576.html</link>
  <description>now i&apos;m not a &quot;sunset picture taking&quot; type of photographer but i too fall to cheeseball photograph temptation every now and then... the mountains are wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://images3.fotki.com/v34/photos/5/55373/231489/DSCF0005-vi.jpg&quot; /&gt;</description>
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  <lj:music>silence - and it is nice.</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">silence - and it is nice.</media:title>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/11934.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Wed, 30 Jul 2003 16:41:38 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>anyone wanna...</title>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/11934.html</link>
  <description>move to Canada with me or anywhere else for that matter...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;I believe marriage is between a man and a woman and I believe we ought to codify that one way or the other and we have lawyers looking at the best way to do that,&quot; the president said a wide-ranging news conference at the White House Rose Garden. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what year is this? not that it ever was acceptable to outcast homosexuals but come on lets move on already.</description>
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  <lj:music>tori amos</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">tori amos</media:title>
  <lj:mood>disappointed</lj:mood>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/11670.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Tue, 29 Jul 2003 17:16:58 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>funny... not really</title>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/11670.html</link>
  <description>it&apos;s actually pretty annoying but when you have lots of tattoos as i do people you know who just get one done on there calf or upper back and the other places people get there token tattoo done feel the need to come up and show you right away like you are going to be super excited anymore than the next person about their tattoo. like they are now in the &quot;club&quot;. it&apos;s just amusing that&apos;s all. sorry. it puts you in the position of acting like you think they are cool now and that you like the piece they choose off the wall of the tattoo shop.</description>
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  <lj:music>portishead</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">portishead</media:title>
  <lj:mood>amused</lj:mood>
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  <lj:reply-count>7</lj:reply-count>
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  <pubDate>Sat, 26 Jul 2003 19:38:11 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>i&apos;m tired</title>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/10618.html</link>
  <description>i didn&apos;t get back until 5am this morning but I&apos;m $150 richer. one day you will all see me on tv playing poker :)</description>
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  <lj:mood>tired</lj:mood>
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  <pubDate>Fri, 25 Jul 2003 13:26:20 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>truth</title>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/10123.html</link>
  <description>this is a short one. something they hide from the school books. this is about &quot;THE GREAT&quot; abe lincoln... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any good historian at least understands that his goal was not to free the slaves, as DiLorenzo correctly states. In 1862, Lincoln published a letter stating, &quot;My paramount object in this struggle is to save the Union, and it is not either to save or destroy slavery. If I could save the Union without freeing any slave I would do it, and if I could save it by freeing all the slaves I would do it; and if I could save it by freeing some and leaving others alone, I would also do that. What I do about slavery and the colored race, I do because I believe it helps to save the Union.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... what a dick. don&apos;t get me wrong. i get sick to my stomach thinking about slavery. i just wanted to point out that he was not the man we think he is and there are many more comments like this to be found in his speeches and writings.</description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/9351.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Mon, 21 Jul 2003 16:17:21 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>a classic</title>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/9351.html</link>
  <description>here is one from Mark Twain that you probably didn&apos;t get to read in school. funny they exposed him to us at all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it is long, sorry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a time of great and exalting excitement. The country was up in arms, the war was on, in every breast burned the holy fire of patriotism; the drums were beating, the bands playing, the toy pistols popping, the bunched firecrackers hissing and spluttering; on every hand and far down the receding and fading spread of roofs and balconies a fluttering wilderness of flags flashed in the sun; daily the young volunteers marched down the wide avenue gay and fine in their new uniforms, the proud fathers and mothers and sisters and sweethearts cheering them with voices choked with happy emotion as they swung by; nightly the packed mass meetings listened, panting, to patriot oratory which stirred the deepest deeps of their hearts, and which they interrupted at briefest intervals with cyclones of applause, the tears running down their cheeks the while; in the churches the pastors preached devotion to flag and country, and invoked the God of Battles beseeching His aid in our good cause in outpourings of fervid eloquence which moved every listener. It was indeed a glad and gracious time, and the half dozen rash spirits that ventured to disapprove of the war and cast a doubt upon its righteousness straightway got such a stern and angry warning that for their personal safety&apos;s sake they quickly shrank out of sight and offended no more in that way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday morning came -- next day the battalions would leave for the front; the church was filled; the volunteers were there, their young faces alight with martial dreams -- visions of the stern advance, the gathering momentum, the rushing charge, the flashing sabers, the flight of the foe, the tumult, the enveloping smoke, the fierce pursuit, the surrender! Then home from the war, bronzed heroes, welcomed, adored, submerged in golden seas of glory! With the volunteers sat their dear ones, proud, happy, and envied by the neighbors and friends who had no sons and brothers to send forth to the field of honor, there to win for the flag, or, failing, die the noblest of noble deaths. The service proceeded; a war chapter from the Old Testament was read; the first prayer was said; it was followed by an organ burst that shook the building, and with one impulse the house rose, with glowing eyes and beating hearts, and poured out that tremendous invocation &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God the all-terrible! Thou who ordainest! Thunder thy clarion and lightning thy sword!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came the &quot;long&quot; prayer. None could remember the like of it for passionate pleading and moving and beautiful language. The burden of its supplication was, that an ever-merciful and benignant Father of us all would watch over our noble young soldiers, and aid, comfort, and encourage them in their patriotic work; bless them, shield them in the day of battle and the hour of peril, bear them in His mighty hand, make them strong and confident, invincible in the bloody onset; help them to crush the foe, grant to them and to their flag and country imperishable honor and glory -- &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An aged stranger entered and moved with slow and noiseless step up the main aisle, his eyes fixed upon the minister, his long body clothed in a robe that reached to his feet, his head bare, his white hair descending in a frothy cataract to his shoulders, his seamy face unnaturally pale, pale even to ghastliness. With all eyes following him and wondering, he made his silent way; without pausing, he ascended to the preacher&apos;s side and stood there waiting. With shut lids the preacher, unconscious of his presence, continued with his moving prayer, and at last finished it with the words, uttered in fervent appeal, &quot;Bless our arms, grant us the victory, O Lord our God, Father and Protector of our land and flag!&quot; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stranger touched his arm, motioned him to step aside -- which the startled minister did -- and took his place. During some moments he surveyed the spellbound audience with solemn eyes, in which burned an uncanny light; then in a deep voice he said: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;I come from the Throne -- bearing a message from Almighty God!&quot; The words smote the house with a shock; if the stranger perceived it he gave no attention. &quot;He has heard the prayer of His servant your shepherd, and will grant it if such shall be your desire after I, His messenger, shall have explained to you its import -- that is to say, its full import. For it is like unto many of the prayers of men, in that it asks for more than he who utters it is aware of -- except he pause and think. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;God&apos;s servant and yours has prayed his prayer. Has he paused and taken thought? Is it one prayer? No, it is two -- one uttered, the other not. Both have reached the ear of Him Who heareth all supplications, the spoken and the unspoken. Ponder this -- keep it in mind. If you would beseech a blessing upon yourself, beware! lest without intent you invoke a curse upon a neighbor at the same time. If you pray for the blessing of rain upon your crop which needs it, by that act you are possibly praying for a curse upon some neighbor&apos;s crop which may not need rain and can be injured by it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;You have heard your servant&apos;s prayer -- the uttered part of it. I am commissioned of God to put into words the other part of it -- that part which the pastor -- and also you in your hearts -- fervently prayed silently. And ignorantly and unthinkingly? God grant that it was so! You heard these words: &apos;Grant us the victory, O Lord our God!&apos; That is sufficient. the whole of the uttered prayer is compact into those pregnant words. Elaborations were not necessary. When you have prayed for victory you have prayed for many unmentioned results which follow victory -- must follow it, cannot help but follow it. Upon the listening spirit of God fell also the unspoken part of the prayer. He commandeth me to put it into words. Listen! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;O Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth to battle -- be Thou near them! With them -- in spirit -- we also go forth from the sweet peace of our beloved firesides to smite the foe. O Lord our God, help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out roofless with little children to wander unfriended the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun flames of summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring Thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it -- for our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their lives, protract their bitter pilgrimage, make heavy their steps, water their way with their tears, stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet! We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source of Love, and Who is the ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(After a pause.) &quot;Ye have prayed it; if ye still desire it, speak! The messenger of the Most High waits!&quot; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was believed afterward that the man was a lunatic, because there was no sense in what he said.</description>
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  <pubDate>Mon, 14 Jul 2003 21:21:35 GMT</pubDate>
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  <description>new bio not that you care but i have not updated so i felt an obligation to do so. don&apos;t know why.</description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/8539.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Fri, 11 Jul 2003 16:40:41 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>that was nice...</title>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/8539.html</link>
  <description>so here is one more for today and i think i may post one every week. hopefully people will find them and think a little. i may be &quot;preaching to the choir&quot; with you on my friends list but oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no cut once again sorry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;America, by Allen Ginsberg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;America I&apos;ve given you all and now I&apos;m nothing. America two dollars and twentyseven cents. &lt;br /&gt;January 17, 1956. I can&apos;t stand my own mind. America when will we end the human war? Go &lt;br /&gt;fuck yourself with your atom bomb. I don&apos;t feel good, don&apos;t bother me. I won&apos;t write my &lt;br /&gt;poem till I&apos;m in my right mind. America when will you be angelic? When will you be worthy &lt;br /&gt;of you million Trotskyites? America why are your libraries full of tears? America when will &lt;br /&gt;you send your eggs to India? I&apos;m sick of your insane demands. When can I go into the supermarket &lt;br /&gt;and buy what I need with my good looks. America after all it is you and I who are perfect &lt;br /&gt;not the next world. Your machinery is too much for me. You made me want to be a saint. &lt;br /&gt;There must be some other way to settle this argument. Burroughs is in Tangiers I don&apos;t &lt;br /&gt;think he&apos;ll come back it&apos;s sinister. Are you being sinister or is this some form of &lt;br /&gt;practical joke? I&apos;m trying to come to the point. I refuse to give up my obsession. &lt;br /&gt;America stop pushing I know what I&apos;m doing. America the plum blossoms are falling. I haven&apos;t &lt;br /&gt;read the newspapers for months, everyday somebody goes on trial for murder. America &lt;br /&gt;I feel sentimental about the Wobblies. America I used to be a communist when I was a kid, &lt;br /&gt;I&apos;m not sorry. I smoke marijuana every chance I get. I sit in my house for days on end &lt;br /&gt;and stare at the roses in the closet. When I go to Chinatown I get drunk and never get &lt;br /&gt;laid. My mind is made up there&apos;s going to be trouble. You should have seen me reading &lt;br /&gt;Marx. My psychoanalyst thinks I&apos;m perfectly right. I won’t say the Lords Prayer. &lt;br /&gt;I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations. America I still haven’t told you what &lt;br /&gt;you did to Uncle Max after he came over from Russia. I’m addressing you. Are you going &lt;br /&gt;to let your emotional life be run by Time Magazine. I read it every week. Its cover &lt;br /&gt;stares at me every time I slink past the corner candystore. I read it in the basement &lt;br /&gt;of the Berkeley Public Library. It’s always telling me about responsibility. Businessmen are &lt;br /&gt;serious. Movie producers are serious. Everybody’s serious but me. It occurs to me that I &lt;br /&gt;am America. I am talking to myself again. Asia is rising against me. I haven’t got a chinaman’s &lt;br /&gt;chance. I’d better consider my national resources. My nation resources consist of two joints &lt;br /&gt;of marijuana, millions of genitals, an unpublishable private literature that goes 1400 miles &lt;br /&gt;and hour and twenty-five thousand mental institutions. I say nothing about my prisons nor &lt;br /&gt;the millions of underprivileged who live in my flowerpots under the light of five hundred &lt;br /&gt;suns. I have abolished the whorehouses of France, Tangiers is the next to go. My ambition &lt;br /&gt;is to be President despite the fact that I’m a Catholic. America how can I write a holy litany &lt;br /&gt;in your silly mood? I will continue like Henry Ford my strophes are as individual as his &lt;br /&gt;automobiles more so they’re all different sexes. America I will sell you my strophes $2500 &lt;br /&gt;apiece $500 down on your old stroph. America free Tom Mooney. America save the Spanish &lt;br /&gt;Loyalists. America Sacco &amp; Vanzetti must not die. America I am the Scottsboro boys. &lt;br /&gt;America when I was seven momma took me to Communist Cell meetings they sold us garbanzos &lt;br /&gt;a handful per ticket a ticket costs a nickel and the speeches were free everybody was &lt;br /&gt;angelic and sentimental about the workers it was all so sincere you have no idea what &lt;br /&gt;good thing the party was in 1835 Scott Nearing was a grand old man, a real mensch. Mother &lt;br /&gt;Bloor made me cry I once saw Israel Amter plain. Everybody must have been a spy. &lt;br /&gt;America you don’t really want to go to war. America it’s them bad Russians. Them Russians, &lt;br /&gt;them Russians and them Chinamen. And them Russians. The Russia wants to eat us alive. &lt;br /&gt;The Russia’s power mad. She wants to take our cars from out our garages. Her wants to &lt;br /&gt;grab Chicago. Her needs a Red Readers’ Digest. Her wants our auto plants in Siberia. &lt;br /&gt;Him big Bureaucracy running our filling stations. That no good. Ugh. Him make Indians &lt;br /&gt;learn read. Him need big black niggers. Hah. Her make us all work sixteen hours a day. &lt;br /&gt;Help. America this is quite serious. America this is the impression I get from looking in &lt;br /&gt;the television set. America is this correct. I’d better get right down to the job. &lt;br /&gt;It’s true I don’t want to join the Army or turn lathes in precision parts factories, &lt;br /&gt;I’m nearsighted and psychopathic anyway. America I’m putting my queer shoulder to the wheel.</description>
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  <pubDate>Fri, 11 Jul 2003 13:54:28 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>its been a while...</title>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/8394.html</link>
  <description>and i still have no urge to post anything so here is a poem...&lt;br /&gt;no cut because you have to read it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let America Be America Again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Langston Hughes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let America be America again.&lt;br /&gt;Let it be the dream it used to be.&lt;br /&gt;Let it be the pioneer on the plain&lt;br /&gt;Seeking a home where he himself is free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(America never was America to me.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed--&lt;br /&gt;Let it be that great strong land of love&lt;br /&gt;Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme&lt;br /&gt;That any man be crushed by one above.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(It never was America to me.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O, let my land be a land where Liberty&lt;br /&gt;Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,&lt;br /&gt;But opportunity is real, and life is free,&lt;br /&gt;Equality is in the air we breathe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(There&apos;s never been equality for me,&lt;br /&gt;Nor freedom in this &quot;homeland of the free.&quot;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark? &lt;br /&gt;And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,&lt;br /&gt;I am the Negro bearing slavery&apos;s scars.&lt;br /&gt;I am the red man driven from the land,&lt;br /&gt;I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek--&lt;br /&gt;And finding only the same old stupid plan&lt;br /&gt;Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the young man, full of strength and hope,&lt;br /&gt;Tangled in that ancient endless chain&lt;br /&gt;Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!&lt;br /&gt;Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!&lt;br /&gt;Of work the men! Of take the pay!&lt;br /&gt;Of owning everything for one&apos;s own greed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.&lt;br /&gt;I am the worker sold to the machine.&lt;br /&gt;I am the Negro, servant to you all.&lt;br /&gt;I am the people, humble, hungry, mean--&lt;br /&gt;Hungry yet today despite the dream.&lt;br /&gt;Beaten yet today--O, Pioneers!&lt;br /&gt;I am the man who never got ahead,&lt;br /&gt;The poorest worker bartered through the years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet I&apos;m the one who dreamt our basic dream&lt;br /&gt;In the Old World while still a serf of kings,&lt;br /&gt;Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,&lt;br /&gt;That even yet its mighty daring sings&lt;br /&gt;In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned&lt;br /&gt;That&apos;s made America the land it has become.&lt;br /&gt;O, I&apos;m the man who sailed those early seas&lt;br /&gt;In search of what I meant to be my home--&lt;br /&gt;For I&apos;m the one who left dark Ireland&apos;s shore,&lt;br /&gt;And Poland&apos;s plain, and England&apos;s grassy lea,&lt;br /&gt;And torn from Black Africa&apos;s strand I came&lt;br /&gt;To build a &quot;homeland of the free.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The free?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who said the free?  Not me?&lt;br /&gt;Surely not me?  The millions on relief today?&lt;br /&gt;The millions shot down when we strike?&lt;br /&gt;The millions who have nothing for our pay?&lt;br /&gt;For all the dreams we&apos;ve dreamed&lt;br /&gt;And all the songs we&apos;ve sung&lt;br /&gt;And all the hopes we&apos;ve held&lt;br /&gt;And all the flags we&apos;ve hung,&lt;br /&gt;The millions who have nothing for our pay--&lt;br /&gt;Except the dream that&apos;s almost dead today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O, let America be America again--&lt;br /&gt;The land that never has been yet--&lt;br /&gt;And yet must be--the land where every man is free.&lt;br /&gt;The land that&apos;s mine--the poor man&apos;s, Indian&apos;s, Negro&apos;s, ME--&lt;br /&gt;Who made America,&lt;br /&gt;Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,&lt;br /&gt;Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,&lt;br /&gt;Must bring back our mighty dream again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, call me any ugly name you choose--&lt;br /&gt;The steel of freedom does not stain.&lt;br /&gt;From those who live like leeches on the people&apos;s lives,&lt;br /&gt;We must take back our land again,&lt;br /&gt;America!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O, yes,&lt;br /&gt;I say it plain,&lt;br /&gt;America never was America to me,&lt;br /&gt;And yet I swear this oath--&lt;br /&gt;America will be!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,&lt;br /&gt;The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,&lt;br /&gt;We, the people, must redeem&lt;br /&gt;The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.&lt;br /&gt;The mountains and the endless plain--&lt;br /&gt;All, all the stretch of these great green states--&lt;br /&gt;And make America again! </description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/7969.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Thu, 26 Jun 2003 14:47:32 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>action follows thought...</title>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/7969.html</link>
  <description>so yesterday my neighbor offered me a job at the ski resort where i live. he runs the place. he has hinted that he would like to bring me into the company for a while but nothing serious ever came up. it is a top management position and i&apos;m seriously considering taking it. the tuff decision is i&apos;m so secure with good pay where i work now but i hate it but i&apos;m about to have another baby also so the security is nice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i think i will flip a coin.</description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/7871.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Wed, 25 Jun 2003 21:10:22 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>time for change</title>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/7871.html</link>
  <description>anyone want to hire me. i can do anything. it will only cost you $75,000 a year. i&apos;m now bored with my job. it is time to find something else the only problem is i make good money and i&apos;m the only one who works in my family. &lt;br /&gt;i think i will try to find a rich person who wants their life documented and i will follow them around all day taking video and pictures. i&apos;m sure i can find someone who will pay for that. i will be theirs 4 days out of the week and have 3 off for my own life. any of you rich? actually that started out as a joke but now sounds like a solution. i&apos;m going to research it right now.</description>
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  <media:title type="plain">silence</media:title>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/7471.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Tue, 24 Jun 2003 20:16:50 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>thats better</title>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/7471.html</link>
  <description>that was a long overdue break from normal life (as if my life in the past 5 months have been anywhere close to what my normal life was prior). w/o going into details it is safe to say this year has been the toughest and most humbling year of my life. i have not went into that in this journal but take my word for it. things are getting back on track but i have been wanting this break for a while and it kept getting canceled due to things &quot;coming up&quot; that were not in my control which just made the feeling of lack of control over my life that much worse. anyway i got the break and it did the trick. i feel much better. here it is in a nutshell...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;friday stayed home from work and spent the day with my two little girls. friday night left for vegas with my sister (in law). the drive was crazy slow so we didn&apos;t get there until like 3am. stayed up all night playing smoking and drinking. slept in my car for 2 hours and went to the pool. sat at the pool on saturday until about noon and got more sunburnt than i think i ever have. i&apos;m not sure how to explain it but i knew that would happen and i didn&apos;t mind. had lunch and checked into our room. she took a shower so i was going to nap but i turned on the tv and &quot;meet the parents&quot; was on so i got stoned and watched that instead. went to dinner at PF changs. went out and played smoked and had more to drink. went to sleep went to brunch played some more and came home on sunday. it was perfect. no rush no fighting no nothing but whatever i wanted.&lt;br /&gt;stayed home from work on monday also and spent the day with my wife and girls shopping for furniture and thrift store stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there it is. and now i&apos;m happy for the time being.</description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/7375.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Wed, 18 Jun 2003 19:16:05 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>this does it</title>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/7375.html</link>
  <description>now i&apos;m an official lj loser... here is my first poll at the request of Jezebel_9&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table bgcolor=&quot;#ffffff&quot; width=&quot;80%&quot;&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table bgcolor=&quot;#000000&quot; cellspacing=&quot;1&quot; width=&quot;100%&quot;&gt;&lt;tr bgcolor=&quot;#000000&quot;&gt;&lt;td align=&quot;center&quot; colspan=&quot;2&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;2&quot; color=&quot;#ffffff&quot;&gt;marktwain&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr bgcolor=&quot;#bbbbbb&quot;&gt;&lt;td valign=&quot;top&quot; width=&quot;30%&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;2&quot; color=&quot;#000000&quot;&gt;Magic Number&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign=&quot;top&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;2&quot; color=&quot;#000000&quot;&gt;20&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr bgcolor=&quot;#bbbbbb&quot;&gt;&lt;td valign=&quot;top&quot; width=&quot;30%&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;2&quot; color=&quot;#000000&quot;&gt;Job&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign=&quot;top&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;2&quot; color=&quot;#000000&quot;&gt;Porn Star&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr bgcolor=&quot;#bbbbbb&quot;&gt;&lt;td valign=&quot;top&quot; width=&quot;30%&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;2&quot; color=&quot;#000000&quot;&gt;Personality&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign=&quot;top&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;2&quot; color=&quot;#000000&quot;&gt;A Worrier, I Worry That I Worry Too Much&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr bgcolor=&quot;#bbbbbb&quot;&gt;&lt;td valign=&quot;top&quot; width=&quot;30%&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;2&quot; color=&quot;#000000&quot;&gt;Temperament&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign=&quot;top&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;2&quot; color=&quot;#000000&quot;&gt;Best Not To Ask&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr bgcolor=&quot;#bbbbbb&quot;&gt;&lt;td valign=&quot;top&quot; width=&quot;30%&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;2&quot; color=&quot;#000000&quot;&gt;Sexual&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign=&quot;top&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;2&quot; color=&quot;#000000&quot;&gt;If I Have To&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr bgcolor=&quot;#bbbbbb&quot;&gt;&lt;td valign=&quot;top&quot; width=&quot;30%&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;2&quot; color=&quot;#000000&quot;&gt;Likely To Win&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign=&quot;top&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;2&quot; color=&quot;#000000&quot;&gt;The World Cup&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr bgcolor=&quot;#bbbbbb&quot;&gt;&lt;td valign=&quot;top&quot; width=&quot;30%&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;2&quot; color=&quot;#000000&quot;&gt;Me - In A Word&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign=&quot;top&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;2&quot; color=&quot;#000000&quot;&gt;Divine&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr bgcolor=&quot;#bbbbbb&quot;&gt;&lt;td valign=&quot;top&quot; width=&quot;30%&quot;&gt;&lt;font size=&quot;2&quot; color=&quot;#000000&quot;&gt;Colour&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td bgcolor=&quot;#888888&quot; valign=&quot;top&quot;&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr bgcolor=&quot;#999999&quot;&gt;&lt;td align=&quot;center&quot; colspan=&quot;2&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.castlemooch.net/memejack/homepage.asp&quot;&gt;Brought to you by MemeJack&lt;/a&gt;&lt;form action=&quot;http://www.castlemooch.net/memejack/ljname.asp&quot; method=&quot;POST&quot;&gt;&lt;input type=&quot;text&quot; name=&quot;txtName&quot; size=&quot;40&quot; maxlength=&quot;50&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;input type=&quot;submit&quot; name=&quot;cmdSubmit&quot; value=&quot;What Does My LJ Name Mean?&quot;&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;</description>
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  <pubDate>Wed, 18 Jun 2003 17:51:12 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>ha</title>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/7023.html</link>
  <description>going to vegas this weekend with my sister in law of all people. i&apos;m desperate and no one else will go. she is grown up now though so it should be fun. alcohol drugs and money... be jealous.</description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/6657.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Mon, 16 Jun 2003 20:04:11 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>wondering</title>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/6657.html</link>
  <description>you know what i find interesting... bumper stickers. they say a lot about a person. so i wonder what the people on my friends list (being an eclectic group) has on their cars. here is my list&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my car &lt;br /&gt;- vote your hopes not your fears, vote third party&lt;br /&gt;- kill your TV&lt;br /&gt;- emancipate yourself from mental slavery, none but ourselves can free our minds (bob marley)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wifes car&lt;br /&gt;- i love my country but fear my government&lt;br /&gt;- i think therefore i&apos;m dangerous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can&apos;t think of the other one but it is a good one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so expose yourself.</description>
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  <guid isPermaLink='true'>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/6464.html</guid>
  <pubDate>Mon, 16 Jun 2003 14:13:59 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/6464.html</link>
  <description>that was a good weekend...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;friday went to dinner with my girls and wife then down to the beach / played golf with my dad on saturday morning / pulled more floor out of my bathroom (that was not fun) / woke up to the girls and wife making me an awesome breakfast on sunday / went golfing again with a friend (yes i&apos;m a golf dork) / had dinner with some fiends and played poker, smoked and drank too late / and finished with my wife and left over whipped cream from the morning breakfast...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i&apos;m tired now. i wake up at 3:15 am for work so i think i will hide today and go to bed early tonight.</description>
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  <pubDate>Fri, 13 Jun 2003 20:24:40 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>deviant art</title>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/6322.html</link>
  <description>i just set up an account here. it is damn confusing to get around on there. i still can&apos;t figure out how to just search for other photographers and check out there work. anyway my username is &quot;redheadguy&quot; i will putting some stuff on there so if you have an account there add me to your list so i can do the same.</description>
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  <pubDate>Wed, 11 Jun 2003 15:24:26 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>help</title>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/5924.html</link>
  <description>does anyone know why my backgroud image is cut into frames. what i mean is i want the whole background to be the one photo instead it takes the photo and &quot;tiles&quot; it leaving lines that i don&apos;t want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thanx</description>
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  <pubDate>Sat, 07 Jun 2003 00:43:32 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>some pinholes but...</title>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/5722.html</link>
  <description>i don&apos;t have a scanner so i had to shoot these with my digital which sucks so the quality is a little less than in true life. i have more to come... &lt;br /&gt;1 - out window rainy day&lt;br /&gt;2 - faith writing&lt;br /&gt;3 - self portrait&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name=&quot;cutid1&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://images3.fotki.com/v26/photos/5/55373/231489/DSCF0002-1-vi.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://images3.fotki.com/v27/photos/5/55373/231489/DSCF0003-1-vi.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src=&quot;http://images3.fotki.com/v27/photos/5/55373/231489/DSCF0004-vi.jpg&quot; /&gt;</description>
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  <lj:music>portishead</lj:music>
  <media:title type="plain">portishead</media:title>
  <lj:mood>accomplished</lj:mood>
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  <pubDate>Fri, 06 Jun 2003 13:48:04 GMT</pubDate>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/5450.html</link>
  <description>it is funny seeing someone you knew &quot;way back when&quot; turn into a movie star...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway &quot;The Italian Job&quot; was good. I thought it would be better... more &quot;edgy&quot; as far as filming goes but it was good. I think it would have been better if Edward Norton played the main role. He is way better than Marky Mark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would recommend it as a rental rather than dropping $20 to see it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wife and I had a nice night out without the kiddies though that is worth the $20 plus dinner and a shake from Jack in the Box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ITS FRIDAY! i hate work i don&apos;t think i have mentioned that here before. i think it is because i&apos;m settling for less than i know i&apos;m capable of because the money is good and it is easy and dependable and all that boring stuff. it&apos;s tough when you are young and have a family to support because i have to sacrafice what i really want to do and probably could do for the sake of the family. i don&apos;t regret it though... when i&apos;m old and done family is going to be what matters and this job allows me the time to spend with them but i&apos;m so fucking bored here.</description>
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  <pubDate>Thu, 05 Jun 2003 15:14:30 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>reminder</title>
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  <description>this is a reminder to myself to post my pinhole images tonight at all cost.</description>
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  <pubDate>Thu, 05 Jun 2003 13:02:14 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>due date</title>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/4883.html</link>
  <description>any of you born on 1/17? that is the due date of my new, third &amp; last child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that is the birthday of one of my closest friends who happens to be the biggest flake i know so i need more encouragment or a new date.</description>
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  <pubDate>Wed, 04 Jun 2003 19:18:40 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>gone</title>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/4766.html</link>
  <description>i&apos;m going to vegas this weekend... or at least on saturday night. i need to physically get away for at least a night. the emotional get away is just not cutting it anymore...&lt;br /&gt;i&apos;m going to spend too much money and get way too drunk/stoned...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if anyone wants to go let me know... actually i&apos;m sure you would all &quot;want&quot; to but can&apos;t. it&apos;s nice living a few hours from there &quot;sin city&quot; escapism at it&apos;s best here i come.</description>
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  <pubDate>Thu, 22 May 2003 20:24:36 GMT</pubDate>
  <title>bye for now</title>
  <link>http://marktwain.livejournal.com/4471.html</link>
  <description>My wife and I have decided to turn the computer off for 1 month starting probably tom. &lt;br /&gt;We refuse to have T.V. for distraction reasons and for our kids but have realized that the computer is doing the same thing. &lt;br /&gt;So we are turning it off for a month to be with eachother more for conversation and games and just plain companionship like they use to have in the old days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so talk to you in a month if you are still here.</description>
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