What Occupy do did did on Wall Street bent over backwards in the hurricane breeze

[bandwraith at aol.com]

Nicely articulated, Sir Joseph, and with o'Trace of genius. And all
over the world this mornin' everything is, to paraphrase Crocker
Fenway, in it's proper place: the rich and the poor faux, the have
and the have nots. Me thinks it's time to rehabilitate the likes of
Inherent Vice. The latest climate surprises suggest that the planet
may yet reclaim its beaches, break up the pavement and send the
paveroverers back to Lemuria, unless "They" figure a way to turn a
profit on climate change, as "They" do everything else. "They"
definitely belonging in quotes, here.

If "Occupying" is dwelling in a specific spot at a specific time, then
it's also a state of mind. Perhaps it's time to take a cue from the
narrator of GR and learn how to Occupy Paranoia- to view the world
and its history from what the powers that be would insist is a
"paranoid perspective," as opposed to Their "channeled view," with
everything all prefab'd and laid out conveniently to coincide with the
status quo- everything in its proper place and pre-connected.

It's like Tariq in Doc's office trying to explain how his homeland has
become a palimpsest- a territory once occupied by his family and
friends now reduced to barely recognized rubble- only to be
re-inscribed with the domiciles of Channel View Estates, a creation
of Mickey Wolfmann. That would be the evil Mickey of ass and real
estate grabbing fame, as opposed to the more apologetic,
kibbutznik-like Mickey, of Arrepentimiento. Tariq is very paranoid in
the conventional sense, and well he should be, for trying to recoup
monies laid out for weapons in a deal brokered on the basis of his
particular "gift." That could also be an authorial in-joke concerning
methods adopted for IV, and the author's paranoia about using
them, at least when he occupied that same area back in the 60's.

Using Tariq's predicament as an example of how paranoia might
enhance one's vision- the channeled view would have Mickey as
just another economic opportunist, following the market, who falls
victim to some hippie-promoted acid and needs a little rehab.
>From the paranoid pov, however, the possibility of a different
interpretation arises: How can Mickey create a situation in which
he's able to displace the locally rooted occupiers of their land for
his own developement schemes, while simultaneously getting
paid for acting like he is sorry about it? Or better, how can he get
subsidized for turning the indigenous into the indigent- a threat to
the property values of civilized channel viewers everywhere- while
simultaneously providing new excuses for police enhancement to
keep them in check? The paranoid view provides answers to its
own questions, by asking the right ones.

btw, you ain't never gonna save the world eatin' beef, : )




-----Original Message-----
From: Joseph Tracy <brook7 at sover.net>
To: P-list List <pynchon-l at waste.org>
Sent: Fri, Nov 23, 2012 8:54 am
Subject: What Occupy do did did on Wall Street bent over backwards in
the hurricane breeze


The malign and  and less malign and not some line where the water rose
and the
bank notes melted down in the doo do vault. Down in the voodoo salt and
the oily
soily seasmell. Back in 2012 in the first wave when the wall street
machine was
stlll holding the line, and lining the vault with fresh doo doo notes
in the
days of the empire. I hurt it then when the umpire state called strike
one. I
heard the hiss of the acid ocean eating under the bed under the bedrock
 and the
occupation came rolling like waves under the bed into their dreams like
lions on
the prowl, likes wolves on the howl, like poison turkeys floating up
the Hudson,
like radio waves tuned to trouble.

"There's a sign out on the doorpost, sayin this land is condemned, all
the way
from New Orleans Up to Jerusalem"

Dylan shmilan  let's have some killin, Happy hanukah Gaza. Cuz all the
smart
guys know the more poison ya got the safer you glow, An baby we got
mountains of
it. We'll never run out.  We got prisons the size of countries to keep
em from
the holy poison we own. We a solid as a wall.

"There's a kind of flush, all over the world tonight, all over the
world you can
hear the sound of sewers too full." The Turdles perform live and dead
tonight on
that street that ,  no matter where you are, is near you:

Wall Street. Wall Street. Wall Street. Wall Street. Wall Street. Wall
Street.
Wall Street.
Wall Street. Wall Street. Wall Street. Wall Street. Wall Street. Wall
Street.
Wall Street.

Solid. Just Solid.  Some solid solids. Some soiled solids with
unstoppable
liquidity.  Serious liquid solids sold and sought and seriously solid.

Wall Street.  Where the solid shit shines with unstoppable liquidity.
No
Occupants allowed.  We don't want them soiling our shiny shit. We are
unoccupied. Completely and fully unoccupied in every serious and solid
sense of
unstoppable liquidity.  We own the idea of solid.  We own the zeroes
piled like
mountains. The zeroes that are the solid steel bars that line the
malign and
hold the prisons that we make with our endless liquidity.

Back in the days before the big waves came