A Drunken Ginsbergian Rant

Nathan Gismot, July 02, 2013

The following rant is an exclusive, barely edited, and somewhat embarrassing transcript culled from the deep archives of my iPhone notepad. It was summer 2011 when I wrote this, and I was several beers in at a bar in northeast Pennsylvania. Given my track record at that place, I was probably drinking Murphy’s Irish Stout. It was an otherwise unremarkable night, and if I hadn’t written anything at the time, I’d likely have forgotten it forever. As it is, I remember observing the people around me and feeling moved to say something about it.

Without further ado, then, here’s my rather drunken answer to Allen Ginsberg’s “Howl”:

Organic matter at the bar, shifting shape and constantly on the move, laughing, chortling, flirting, smiling, nursing a beer or a vodka tonic. I lift my head from my beer and my shot, and the world is new. There's nothing stranger than seeing a man who's in the early stages of growing a mustache. It seems like a mistake at first glance. At second glance, too. Sometimes I rest my phone by my nuts, and I freak out a little, you know? Like, am I blasting weird 3G shit at my nuts? Will they become a hotspot? Ha, I jest. But seriously, there's always cancer to contend with. Note to self: don't use the word "innocuous" in casual conversation in quasi-rural PA towns.

There you have it. I emailed it to myself for this post and noticed my modified iPhone signature was included. I think it's an appropriate epitaph for your consideration:

Sent from my iPhone; please forgive any misspellings or grammatical errors