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09/21/2007

Tearing down Bukowski. 5124 De Longpre Avenue. 9/21

Bustard_vs_bukokski01_2

01: The early morning BusTard contemplates the decrepit bungalow of the deceased Bukowski.

Bustard_vs_bukokski02 02: BusTard's impulsiveness, fueled by too much eastern sunshine and too little any alcohol, decides the "cultural earthquake" described by Time.com needs a kick-start.

___________________________________________________________________________

It’s been how many years some Bukowski has been dead and people in LA are still going on about his marginally talented ass. Yes I said it, marginally talented.

His house apparently is going to be demolished. I say good riddance. Let’s break the hope of the pointless. Why should we enable them to worship at the house of a false idol who is only relevant in gentrified bars of the newly sanitized “eastside.”

He was one of those right time and right place kind of artists.

No Bukowski was not a Hemmingway (Hemmingway, he’s a GOD.) He was not a Hunter. He was not a F Scott Fitzgerald. He was not a Capote. He was not a Dorothy. He was not a Henry Miller.

He wasn’t even a Kerouac and I’m still trying to get what the fuck was so great about a guy who just rambled on and on and on about things you ramble on and on about when you are high. I’ve read Kerouac over and over again and I do not get it. I get Ginsberg. I get William Borough. I don’t get Kerouac. Was is that he sucked Ginsberg’s cock? Or did Ginsberg want Jack to suck his cock and owing to that pumped up Jack and since people in LA don’t act until a “god” says it’s ok a “god” can say shit tastes good and people in LA will eat it.

I don’t know I don’t understand the “beat, hippy, pot smoking, beat loving Buddha bullshit spouting” crew. I’d just rather not bother with the entire state of California between 1960 and 1980.

Thank god all of those fuckers are dying off now.

Bukowski simply was a guy from the post office that a rich guy decided to make a project.

Similar to when rich women from Brentwood go to the inner city and teach the kids how to do something arty. The kids aren’t that good, but it’s fun to watch. Who would have thought that poor people could be arty and shit. Yeah I know it’s mean, but we all know it’s true.

“Wow little girl you sure are talented, that is a great painting,” rich lady to not very talented (but she’s trying) inner city girl.

Talented poor kids get thrown out "nice" programs in week one.

"If you can't learn to appreciate what opportunity we've given you then you'll just have to leave, we only like smiling shiny happy art here," rich lady.

Bukowski is in the school of writers that I like to call the “die already motherfucker, die” school. You know that group of writers, artists, eccentrics that get famous for not dying and being decrepit. Giving other mediocre artsy type people hope that their hopelessness can somehow be marketable in the right packaging.

I guess no one passed out the memo:

Only one drunken mediocre disgusting bastard every 50 years.

I don’t think the vast majority of his followers are going to make it to the semi finals of the uneducated, drunk and disgusting literary awards.

I personally think that Buk would appreciate the above tribute we at ShameTrain LA paid more than any kind of saving his house so you can “feel” his environment movement. That's kind of dumb.

Browne

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Comments

wow dude ... you are the loser in this one ... this guy was a GREAT WRITER ...NOT SIMPLY GOOD BUT GREAT ...bet you're like a college educated (so you think) kind of dude huh? ... well keep trying ...bye bye

I'm a dudette. That dude is BusTard, he's just my model.

Browne

Will someone please tell the "dude"-spouting putz that I am of neither college nor civilty bred?

Never mind; I will see to it myself: Danny, boy, I can swing both those sledgehammers in a fashion that will turn poorly strung ellipses into stars. Doan push yer luck, son; even a cursory glance will reveal that one of those full-sized tools is less than the length of my arm.

What the photos fail to reveal is the giant inkwell in which I dip them when I get ready to write an epitaph.

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  • The Bus Bench is published by Browne Molyneux. The editorial consultant is Randall Fleming.

    The Bus Bench’s roots are in Social Ecology.

    The Bus Bench takes a satirical and editorial approach to dealing with the issue of mobility in Los Angeles. The emphasis of The Bus Bench is public transportation, but we also discuss class, race, gender and Downtown Los Angeles.

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  • Browne Molyneux is a freelance journalist and a friendly gadfly in the LA based blogosphere. She formerly wrote a transportation column for LA City Beat: Tracks and is a contributor to LA Eastside and The LA Progressive. She does not own a motorized vehicle, but she does have a bike.

    RANDALL (BusTard) FLEMING has spent two decades working in most every facet of publishing. A former magazine publisher (Angry Thoreauan, 1987-2001), he has also contributed to a great many books, periodicals and newspapers in Los Angeles and New York: New York Post, Brooklyn Spectator, Discover Hollywood!, Ben Is Dead, Flipside, Los Feliz Ledger, Sabotage in The American Workplace (Pressure Drop Press), Notes From the Underground: Zines and the Politics of Alternative Culture (Verso), and several of the Unreinforced Masonry Studio books about Los Angeles.

    Diego Rentería, aka soledadenmasa, is a native of South Gate and attends Harvard University in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Mariachi musician, avid reader, and a fan of urban areas. He's currently enjoying the myriad transportation possibilities of the Greater Boston area.

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    Hey, my name’s aka Mika Muyo and I’ve been sitting on the bus bench since 4th grade. I’ve taken all sorts of public trans that varied on the scale of “not bad” to “you have to be kidding me, this is bullshit!”. At any rate, I currently live and cycle in LA and you can find me at various bike mobs, art shows, open bars and on Candied Cartel dot com.

    Rogelio Gomez is a public transit rider and an avid cyclist. He blogs at My Daily Ride when he's not sharing his adventures on The Bus Bench.

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