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About Deviant Philip Jarrett66/Male/United States Recent Activity
Deviant for 5 Years
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Nibbled To Death By Ducks :iconpjarrett:PJarrett 0 0
Mature content
and the field 'neath my feet will lay fallow :iconpjarrett:PJarrett 0 0
Literature
I am currently reading Nassim
I am currently reading Nassim Nicholas Taleb's "The Black Swan: The Impact of the Highly Improbably."
The term comes from the European belief that all swans are white since that's the only kind they had ever seen. Then the British began exploring Australia and what do they find?
Black swans.
Taleb refers to Black Swan Events. An event that is so improbable that it can't be fit in the traditional Bell Shaped Curved. I'm just getting a good start into his work, but he's a good read. So far, he is making the argument that these BSEs...to create my own acronym...are the driving force behind history. That human history doesn't just roll along nice and smooth with one event being caused by preceeding events and then, when it has happed becomes the cause of other events.
He rather argues that history does not grow logically and rationally, but rather is a sequence of unpredictable leaps caused by unpredicatable events: Black Swans.
He uses 9/11 as an example as well as the emergence of the In
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Literature
Fred died tonight.We rescued
Fred died tonight.
We rescued him from a family that was calling him Bocephus...Hank Williams Jr...of course, we took one look at him and said there is no way this bassett hound....this big lumbering short legged hound dog with ears that hadn't gotten the memo yet and were still long enough to stir the dust and waft the scent up to that CSI Superfly Noze of his.  You see, bassetts are according to legend bred from full sized blue tic hound with a Dachsund or some dog with short legs.  They are short, but still are classified with the big dogs.
We both took one look at him and as soon as we drove away from the family that had to get rid of him because of a landlord we looked at each other and said, "There is no way in hell this dog is going to be able to pull off Bosephus.  I can't remember which one of us came up with it but the name, once spoken aloud was his and his forever and that was...
...Fred!
We brought him home seven or eight years ago and we weren't sure how ol
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Mature content
Clean up in aisle Freud :iconpjarrett:PJarrett 3 2
Mature content
when the crow caws at midnight :iconpjarrett:PJarrett 2 6
Mature content
Rearview Chapter Two :iconpjarrett:PJarrett 0 0
Mature content
RearviewChapter OneDrivin :iconpjarrett:PJarrett 1 0
Literature
from karl marx to pale jesus
from karl marx to pale jesus
i don’t want you to
accept my beliefs
i want you to question your own
why should i care
if here and there
there were little phil jarrett clones?
make up your mind
but not like you make
the bed in the morning you leave
all tightly tucked corners
with no room for doubt
is no way for a man to believe
furl flags on the ramparts
paste poems on your prius
and blog till your bloggin’ content
these words that you mutter
you might as well utter
so pull up your thesaurus and vent
from riots to revolution
there’s no easy solution
left untried then put up on the shelf
from karl marx to pale jesus
there’s a repeating thesis
the only change you can make is yourself
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Literature
bubbles
bubbles
blowing bubbles
in the air
tiny bubbles
everywhere
this one here
just disappeared with a pop
and this one is dripping
some sort of soap snot
but, c’mon,
let’s be real
it’s not soap that you feel!
it’s the Hollowness in your Heart
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Literature
There is so much that cannot b
There is so much that cannot be explained.  You want it to be simple.  This happened, then this, then this and finally this.  But life never falls in straight lines.  Life is a maze the solution to which is never revealed until the last turn is taken, the last line is drawn.  People demand of you what you cannot give.  They want to know the solution before you have plotted the course.  They want the security of knowing that the writer, the author, knows the ending and is guiding them, step by step, through the process that will eventually lead to this ending.
They don't know you.  They see you as some guide, some leader they can follow.  But you aren't a leader.  You are struggling to keep up with the images, the ideals, that pour into your brain unbidden.  They want to believe in you and when they discover they cannot they blame you.  You are at fault because you cannot give them the reassurance they are so desperatly seeking
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Literature
Is it all right to do nothing
Is it all right to do nothing with you life?
Simple question.  What harm would come if you simply woke up in the morning and went to work then came home at night and enjoyed yourself?  Working, of course, is an essential aspect of living.  If you want to have a place to come home to that is your own, where you can be alone, then you have to work to make the money necessary to sustain you own life.  You may not want to, you may find ways of getting around working.  But experience has taught me that living off other people in some way, shape or form is always more complicated than simply working. I call this the 168/40 ratio.  There are 168 hours in a week.  If you work 40 of those hours, then you are left with 128 hours to do with as you please.  It isn't a bad deal, when you think of it in those terms.  In order to make this 168/40 ratio work, you need to get your self-esteem needs met in the 128 hours you have to yourself.  If your sel
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Literature
I Tried To Pay Attention
History is a funny thing.  The more I live through the more out of touch with  history I have become.  There was a time when a first person account of a historical event was deemed primary evidence when assessing both the event itself and the implications that followed from the event.  Now eye-witness accounts are treated as 'anecdotal evidence' as if they were some story I made up about what happened even though it happened in front of my eyes and to me.  Unless they mesh with the received wisdom or support a political expediency in the present time, which they never seem to do, then the events of my life are cast aside like the world I speak of never existed.  Like I never existed.  I have become an Orwellian non-person and have been written out of the history of my own life.
Sometimes I want to echo the pathetic cry of Joseph Merrick:  "I am a human being!"
When I insist "That's not what happened, I was
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Literature
how can i describe you
how can i describe you
how can i describe you
without seeming
unbearably sappy
and romantically redundant?
you are the first breath i took
when i rose screaming
from the womb
you are the marrow in my bones
where my life's blood
is manufactured
you are the dawn
of a day that never ends
you are the fawn
frozen in the headlights
of my speeding life
the one i chose
to wreck my self
into the gutter
and across into the trees
to avoid hurting
you are the taste
of wine sap apples
on my tongue
the essence of cinnamon
and nutmeg
you are the appetizer
at my banquet
and the main course
and dessert
all served at once
you are the one
i was waiting for
before i even knew
i was waiting
you are the ferris wheel,
the merry-go-round,
the bumper cars---
the carnival of love
you are the gold crayon
in my crayola box
and the blue and yellow
and red and green
there is no picture
i might want to color
that i will not find myself
reaching for you
you are the one
of which there is no other
the prime cause
and e
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Mature content
Home :iconpjarrett:PJarrett 1 0
Literature
Exorcism In the Modern World
I'm sitting here listening to Tift Merritt...surfer girl out of Chapel Hill, North Carolina in the US of A and one of the best in Country Alternative...voice like Dusty Springfield one review of her work commented.  Her "Good Hearted Man" is an anthem for every woman who is tired of dating bad boys and losers and is ready to grow up.  If you don't know her work, look it up.  I think you'll like her unless you're one of these people who is prejudiced against country music.  In that case, to quote Kris Kristofferson: "If you don't like Hank Williams, you can kiss my ass."
What's this got to do with exorcism?  Not a damn thing.  Another quote, this time Andy Warhol to Lou Reed from his Songs For Drella album:  "You think too much because there's work you don't want to do."
I'm reading "Religion and its monsters" by Timothy K. Beal right now.  Great book.  Shows the origin of the Hebrew mythology in t
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Activity


I've been around for a while now.  I've lived through a lot of history, for better or worse.  I'd like to think I know who I am, even though my self-identification is obviously flawed.

More and more I think I am nothing more than a listing of places I've been.  A bibliography of books I've read.  
Years ago, in my youth, I was in Nashville, Tennessee.  That seemed to be the sum of my existence.  I was a young man living on the streets of that gritty, ugly and sublime town.  Nobody who hasn't lived in Nashville can understand what that means.  I suppose, on some level, we all have our Nashvilles.  Truth is, I don't care about anyone else.  

Nashville was my Mother...far more than the biological womb from which I first emerged.  There are many places in the world, many towns...Hemingway in Paris comes to mind.  But I doubt any of you can understand the connection...between myself, and a town and a particular moment in history when everything came together to mold the rest of my life.

When you leave your family, when you leave your home...the first city...be it LA or New York or Paris or Berlin or London...the first city where you come into your own as an artist, as a writer...the place is special, as special as the first girl you ever lay with.  The town becomes a part of you, of who you are on some visceral, deeply psychological manner.  

Nashville was the light that drew me out of the darkness of the West Virginia hollers where I grew up.  Nashville was the freedom outside the cage of those dark, dangerous and disgusting hollers.  So many people wax sentimental and sticky for where they grew up.

Me, I still have nightmares of the holler in Boone County, West Virginia where I grew up.  The darkness, the clinging, cloying heat of the coal black summer nights and the freezing, blistering cold of the winter days in those hollers still haunts my dreams and my nightmares.

Nightmares of the house...my uncle's house...up Snodgrass Holler in Boone County, West Virginia.  Where the light switches never work...where the darkness is more than visible but is a presence all its own.  

Ignorance.  Of course.  It would be easy to ascribe that darkness, those futile light switches...to a manifestation of the ignorance I struggle against...I still struggle agains... even 63 years later.

But there's more to that darkness.

There is the hot breath on the back of my neck from my brother as he sodomized me.  There is the distant and uncaring aspect of my father who only spoke to me on two occasions...taking me down to the church where he preached as if to emphasize that what he was saying wasn't just coming from him but from the Lord himself...to lecture me about the evils of masturbation...evils that it would take me years and countless hours of contemplation to understand weren't evil at all...but were rather the normal activity of a boy my age who happened to be unfortunate to have been raised in a Christian minister's household.  Of my mother who ignored me as I grew up...except to take me aside and tell me how my father had raped her 7 times on her wedding night when I was barely 11 years old.  How was I supposed to handle this?  This abuse, this violation...from my brother and my father and my brother?

I fought back.  Even  in my earliest years I fought back.  I began writing short stories and novels when I was 12...spreading my pages on the dining room table and banging away at a portable, manual typewriter I had asked for for my eleventh birthday.  Nobody paid any attention, that's the cruellest thing.  I wrote and I wrote and my parents ignored me.

Still, to this day, I know of no one who has read my work.  Strangers, perhaps.  But no one in my family or friends...not even my wife who says that my poetry scares her...even the love poems I wrote her when I was wooing her.

I come out here on DA and I throw pieces of myself out into the water like a fisherman chumming the water to draw in the big fish.  Some people say nice things.  Nice.  

Nice means they just didn't understand at all what I am writing about.  

Nice means they somehow missed the anger that fuels my poetry, my short stories, my essays.

I am not a nice man.

I am not a good man.

I am angry and full of rage.

I am a lonely man.

I am...

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PJarrett's Profile Picture
PJarrett
Philip Jarrett
United States
I am a writer. Whatever there is that can be written, I have tried my hand at it over the years. Now a days I write poetry and short 'gags' for T-shirts. I am always working on something, although what I'm working on doesn't always see the light of day. I am looking for someone to work with on the T-shirts. Someone to do the graphics to my gags.
Interests

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:iconmadam--kitty:
Madam--Kitty Featured By Owner Apr 6, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Hi. wanna join my group called Anti-illuminati-01? anti-illuminati-01.deviantart.…
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:iconpjarrett:
PJarrett Featured By Owner Aug 10, 2014
Sure, why not?
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:iconmadam--kitty:
Madam--Kitty Featured By Owner Aug 11, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
ty
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:icona7xfan666:
A7XFan666 Featured By Owner Aug 2, 2013
Happy Birthday :3 :party::iconcakeplz::iconballoonsplz:
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:iconcanankk:
Canankk Featured By Owner Jun 5, 2013
Thank you :iconredroseplz: :heart:
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:iconsuki42deathlake:
suki42deathlake Featured By Owner May 15, 2013   General Artist
thank you for the watch ! ^^ , if you like all thing's creepy please do cheack out the group "twistedcreepyland " :icontwistedcreepyland:
, ! ^^
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:iconpjarrett:
PJarrett Featured By Owner May 18, 2013
I like 'twisted and creepy" and would love to have access to a group who would accept such postings I make that are beyond the pale.

By 'Twisted and creepy' do you really mean what you are saying?

So much on DA...even the name Deviant Art...implies an openness to really 'deviant' art and writing...and yet, I find myself here, on this site more than any other, being called down as 'unacceptible' and 'deviant'.

Why is that so? Deviant implies the site welcomes true deviants.

You say you want stuff that is 'twisted' and 'creepy'. OK, I can afford you plenty of material. I just don't want to waste my time on a site that calls for 'deviant' but doesn't really want true deviance.

Assure me that your site is both "deviant' and 'Creepy' and 'twisted' and I'll be more than glad to contribute.

I just need to make sure that you aren't just another site that is asking for what you don't really want to see or read.
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:iconsuki42deathlake:
suki42deathlake Featured By Owner May 19, 2013   General Artist
the group , the name is exactly what it implies ^^ . anything that is "creepy " or "twisted " .such as organs , gore , blood, supernatrual eg zombies , vampires , ghosts. mass murders , ect ^^ , it can be in any medium however in the correct genre is accepted ^^
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:iconsuki42deathlake:
suki42deathlake Featured By Owner May 19, 2013   General Artist
or anything "insane ect " ^^
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:icondevoman1948:
devoman1948 Featured By Owner Apr 25, 2013
thnx for faving
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