|
My sister and I; she got the looks
|
"Let us go then... I once took a class called discourse networks, working on a screenplay affectionately titled 'intercouse..."
More about Marx
|
-
Schools:
Crossroads School, Attended 1987 - 1993, Class of 1993
-
Schools (Other):
the President School, Nairobi; Mutuini Elementary, Nairobi; Carthay Center, L.A.; Crossroads School for the Criminally inSane, Santa Monica
-
College/University:
Brown University, Attended 1993 - 1999, Other, Film Semiotics, Continental Thought
-
Occupation:
Reluctant Hero, Vinyl Re-Masterer, Music Obsessor
-
Affiliations:
IBD, AES, ASCAP
-
Hobbies and Interests:
Guitar, Bach, Film, e.e. cummings, Black, Fellini, political economy, trancendental thought, meditation, The Dialectic, chocolate, Stella, Tanqueray, Grey Goose, Petron
-
Favorite Books:
Das (K)apital, Critique of Dialectical Reason, Phenomenology of Spirit, Kundera, La Fiesta, Cat's Cradle, Black Skin White Mask, Foucault's Pendulum, Skinny Legs and All, Curious George, Harold and the Purple Crayon, Brave New W
-
Favorite Movies:
La Dolce Vita, Breathless, North x Northwest, Vertigo, Delicatessen, Baron Munchhausen, Bladerunner, Do the Right Thing, Breakfast Club, A Little Romance, Enter the Dragon, Fist of Legend, Matrix, Bullworth, 400 Blows, Klute, Kazlowski (Red, White, Blue), High Fidelity, The Red Violin, Bridget Jones' Diary (what...?)
-
Favorite Music:
Bach, Handel, Debussy, Ravel, Poulenc, L.V.B, Tatum, Monk, Bird, Diz, Louie, Ella, Trane, Miles, Oscar, Corea, Herbie, Hendrix, Stones, Stevie, Ozzy, Halen, Jacksons, Vai, Yngwie, GNR, Nas, Biggie, Roots, Outkast, Bjork, Radiohead, Massive, Tricky, Air, Amy Winehouse, Jamie Liddell
-
Favorite TV Shows:
no t.v.
-
Zodiac Sign:
Aquarius
-
About Me:
Let us go then... I once took a class called discourse networks, working on a screenplay affectionately titled 'intercouse networks' aimed unerringly at the status quo on the subject of irrepressible sexuality and the. counter cultural paradigmatic shift away from the blatant economies of exploitation, toward an economy of, .ideas. No wait, that's my life.
I'm still in mourning over my lost innocence. I wore a lot of black for a long time, just kinda made shopping a snap, everything matched, and I was always appropriately dressed for, well, everything. One day I'll show up in all white and freak you all the fuck out. Used to wax semiotic about Neo-Realism, but I just like Marcelo 'cause he's the coolest, sharpest mofo, and come on, Sophia Loren as Fellini's wife? no that was Anouk Amie. Whatever. That's fuckin hot. So is Bridgette Bardot. I read. I cook. I play guitar; I was voted most likely to impregnate my guitar. I did, we had a lovechild known in many parts as 'Goddamnwhatthefuckwasthat'. I just can't stop. I keep threatening to move to Mombasa, Gin & Tonics on the beach all day, play music all night; I will.
Sometimes I'll disappear and call your ass from Mexico, that is, before getting chased back across the border by Mexican Federalis. Really. Or Puerto Rico; sometimes London, Kansas. depends. Gotta work Helsinki and Nairobi into that list ...and Canada. just gotta stop running into Karthik and brown mafia all over the damn world.
A friend of mine wore three piece suits long ago schooled me on the inanity of conventional discourse as in any way symptomatic of the excesses leading to sex, and left it to me to be contrary and obtuse, yet charming toward all creatures female. I now see the contrarian perspective as the hallmark of a visionary praxis toward the fulfillment of the libido and market forces, a sort of proto-simian reactionary stance against the tyranny of the senses. Mark Church wherever you are, I'm still working
-
Who I Want to Meet:
"Do I dare disturb the Universe?
Do I dare to eat a peach?..."
...call me onto the rocks.
the dialectic is in effect. one plus one equals one hell of a mashup. we are the universe apprehending itself, seeing itself, feeling itself. this sensous self awareness is what we call love; well it should be. Sounds fucking cool, doesn't it?
Come on, you're intrigued aren't you....
"...I shall wear white flannel trousers and walk upon the beach
I have heard the mermaids singing each to each
I do not think they will sing for me...."
|
 |
How you're connected:
| You |
 |
Marx is in your extended network |
|
Marx |
Featured Sponsor
See results for Marx Njoroge
|
marx and i had many such conversations at one point. at least that's what i said,as marx talked about philosophers and theories i'd never heard of ... that was fun
mutha. This man can talk most anyone
into most anything (ladies and morons
beware) and loves a heated exchange
(verbal or otherwise). He is a great
debater and has passion for life that I
respect and love to be around.
the stuff he gets away with. Is it his
boyish charm, his sharp
tongue, his crazily obscene sense of
humor, or a combination of all the
above? I still recall the time during
graduation week when we were ordering
at 5 am, and the food was taking too
long, so he started stealing fries from
this guy who was passed out on the
table across from us. We were laughing
our asses off as he started putting the
fries in the guys ear, and he looked up
from his drunken stupor, and there was
Marx hiding in the the corner. I tried
my best to keep a straight face, but I
know I was failing miserably.
Seriously, Marx is about as
wonderful a person as you can get. He's
full of wisdom, understanding, and
love. I've cried on his shoulder too
many times to count, and when I
couldn't believe in myself, he was
there to tell me I could still make it.
He's also there to tell me when I'm
making an ass of myself.
Thank you, Marx.
neurotic. He also told me how drugs were good.
These two maxims I hold close to my heart, but
closer than they is Marx himself, and even closer
than he is his sharp sense of style. un saludo.
out-hostess mode, with a plastic cup of wine
in my hand grabbed from the hands of other
people. yet you dis-clude me from your idea
of Trashy Girls. that's marx for ya.
lets see, facts about Marx: he walks in any
room, even my room, with a certain amount
of frail, but nonchalant class.
he'll brag with conceit and grace.
he'll look sharp and smooth, disarming
himself by virtue of his white, european-like
smile.
he can say "the dialectic" without sounding
poncey.
he looks fabulous in a crowd.
he will bewilder one with affectionate
condescension, laced with concession of his
own vulnerability. but then he makes light of
the whole thing in a charming way.
yay.