Friday, December 28, 2007

Poet's Korner

I can't find my house

it seems to be missing 

Can I borrow yours?

My bike is gone, too

How will I go places?

How will I crash into things?

You're lucky with your

house and your bike

you make me jealous.

-Peebles, Chris

Thursday, December 27, 2007

Kommentary Korner

Hello, ladies and pigs. I, Marilyn, have taken it upon myself to write about an issue that I think has been clouding our vision for far too long. As most of you know, I am what some chauvinists would call a feminist. I find that term loaded with negativity and misinterpretation, but I have not yet come up with a sufficient alternative. Anyway, on to the topic at hand. Anyone with a brain has realized the true extent to which male-centric ideals have permeated our society and the way we think. From models of healthy families that encourage a submissive wife and a dominant husband to the current state of professional sports, the examples abound. But one of the grossest examples of penis-influenced misconduct I have yet seen concerns those heavens to which we gaze for inspiration, to which we have often assigned the meaning of our lives. Doesn't it seem a tad bit too convenient that the planets of our solar system bear a striking resemblance to testicles? Ours is a society founded on symbolism, and what stronger embodiment of a sexist regime than a physical world dominated by gigantic balls?!? Would it really have been that hard to instead create a vaginally-inspired celestial body in orbit of a star or stellar remnant? Whatever misogynist pig designed our cosmos needs a serious reality check. Hello, it's the 21st century! Get with it! That is all.

Friday, December 21, 2007

Kommentary Korner

I don't mean to boast, but sometimes I'm much too overcome with disgust by the folly of others to remain silent. I am speaking, of course, about my impeccable fashion sense. An embarrassingly small number of individuals I encounter any more seem to have a concept of the chic nuances of worldly threads such as the ones draped over my lissome physique. Take my shirt, for example. At first glance, it appears to be nothing more than your conventional pique cotton saffron-colored polo, but, to the more discerning eye, my shirt is a symbol of sophisticated, exotic taste. What these uncultured neanderthals wandering the streets of America don't realize is that my polo shirt was handcrafted deep within the jungles of Cambodia by workers dedicated more to producing a quality garment than to receiving a decent wage. Look at any other component of my vast wardrobe: my Malaysian houndstooth trousers, my Indonesian woven belt, even my Vietnamese plaid unmentionables. Each of these is the very definition of style and a testament to craftsmen who endure appallingly inhumane working conditions for the cause of high class. Until America awakens from its unfortunate fashion funk, my highly refined garb will remain unnoticed by the ignorant masses. Call me when you learn how to dress yourself, America. I'll be at the Gap. --Peter Doe

Monday, December 10, 2007

Awareness Korner

A message from the Foundation for Fuhrer Prevention, a Kreation Korner-approved public service organization.

Sunday, December 9, 2007

Lost and Found

Salutations, Korner devotees. I know the question that has plagued you so for the past 14 days: why no new contributions to this most wondrous Korner of Kreation? Well, I'll give it to you straight. It's been pretty dry around here lately. Gregory Fork has been working on exciting experiments in silence and inactivity, but the subtle nuances of his performances are unfortunately lost when translated to our world wide web format. Cindy Blankenstead was slated for an upcoming feature but chose instead to participate in a 13-day Dada get-together in the Mojave desert. In light of this recent kreative dry spell of sorts, I have taken it upon myself to forge new ground in the realm of the spoken word. I have come across a novel idea, one that I hope will spark an entirely new way of looking at everyday conversations. By taking a fragment of an unscripted situation of interaction between humans and placing it out of context in poem form, I have transformed something once commonplace into anything but. Enjoy.


what are you getting?
i don't know, how much is that jerky?
59 cents.
maybe i'll get the doritos instead.
can i borrow a quarter?

Monday, November 26, 2007

Poet's Korner

Today, The Korner is honored to present Chris Peebles' inaugural foray into the controversial field of visual poetry. His piece, entitled "Submerged," reflects Peebles' knack for stepping right up to the edge of conventionality and diving headlong into the unknown abyss. Behold:

Kommentary Korner

As usual, I’m baffled by this wacky country we call the U.S.A. The other day, an afternoon of tenpin bowling sounded delightful so I hopped in my car and drove to a nearby bowling alley. As I entered the establishment, I was hit by a most sudden and disturbing revelation. Although never having stepped foot in that ramshackle bowl-porium before, I felt as though I’d been there many times. I’ve been in dozens, perhaps hundreds, of bowling alleys in my life, and I realized on that fateful day that they are all identical. The Bowl-shevik Revolution Lanes and Lounge, as it was called, was merely a clone of every other bowling joint I’ve visited in my life. All bowling alleys in America share identical sensory stimuli, particularly to the eyes and nose. They look as though they haven’t been redecorated since about 1966. They all have the smell of cigarette smoke and stale Miller Genuine Draft imbedded into the walls. They all possess a stratified layer of unidentified grime on every surface. These common characteristics of American bowling alleys have led me to a conclusion with unsettling political implications. I have a theory that, sometime in the 1960s, the Johnson administration declared a moratorium on the construction of new bowling alleys as well as the maintenance of pre-existing alleys. This explains the outdated and dilapidated conditions we are forced to bowl in today. Mysteriously, however, any records of President Johnson’s bowling alley nonproliferation executive orders have been erased. The truth has been concealed from the American public, for whatever reason, leaving us to bowl in tacky squalor. But, in spite of all this, I am optimistic that the future is bright for disgruntled, unsatisfied bowlers like myself. One day, a person will be able to freely hurl a 6 to 15 pound sphere along a greased wooden lane at a formation of neatly arranged blunt, ironically-named pins in a clean, sanitary, freshly scented environment decorated in a tasteful, contemporary fashion. Whoever is preventing bowling alleys from entering the 21st century can’t hideout for long. Soon, the cries for new and improved bowling alleys will be too loud for the architects of this oppressive conspiracy to ignore. --Peter Doe

Sunday, November 25, 2007

Poet's Korner

Good tidings to all! The Kreationists are back after a short and turkey-addled respite. This week brings you, the devoted web-drone, a substantial helping of poetry for your mind, body, and soul. Her name is Hattie Weyland, and boy can she string those words together! A younger but nevertheless crucial member of the Korner, Weyland's latest lament details her various struggles with that most deceptively simple of mathematical devices -- the Venn Diagram. Of her poem, Weyland comments that the seemingly innocuous diagram represents a larger struggle against "that which is of The Man, and which fancies our suppression." It has been noted that Weyland's interesting linguistic style is in reaction to her current high school environs. So, it is with great pleasure that I present Hattie Weyland's debut publication, in all its bloggy goodness!

Venn Diagram Vendetta

Oh, how I loathe thee-
thou awful globe-ed purpose.
Your scope leaves no sway,
for me to convey
just all I might mean-
through my sadly scribbled scrawl.
To seek my vengeance
par my pensions,
would be my delusion,
my dream, my desire.
With savvy handys and a clear head,
I'd abort all until all could be dead.
Then in classes comparatively,
we'd be without procedure.
For to round things out,
I'd have made it my bout
to rid the world of the two-circled evil.

original illustration by Arnold Haiken

Sunday, November 18, 2007

Video Korner

Greetings comrades, this week brings with it a very exciting post. After much deliberation, the innovative and controversial video artist Percy Stankowski has agreed to lend his talent to the Korner kause. Stankowski's installations are abrasive, unnerving events that treat the viewer with all the kindness of a 13th-century Mongolian conqueror. Of his latest piece, entitled "ThLstDnce", Stankowski states that the imagery portends the ultimate end of our "obsessive, disgusting, and dangerous cha-cha with the moving image and its correlation to our capitalist system. Which side breaks first is up to us." That's a mouthful, Stankowski, but we hear you loud and clear.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

I'm Lucky to be Alive

My car is shorter
than I am and
more blue as well.

It navigates the
serpentine roads
hugging the Rocky
mountains or something.

I crashed my car
into a river the
other day. It was
cold like a corpse in a freezer.

-Chrs. Pbls.

Kommentary Korner

There are a lot of things I don't understand about America. For example, why do we as a society revere cowboys so much? What is so appealing about these rugged cattle-rustlers of yore? I'll tell you what's so appealing: nothing! Cowboys were ill-mannered, carousing ruffians. Their meals consisted entirely of undercooked red meat and potatoes, which were washed down with whiskey. Warm whiskey. Once adequately intoxicated by their rotgut spirits and sub-standard dietary choices, these unruly yahoos would proceed to engage in unsavory acts with women of ill repute. On top of all that, cowboys rarely bathed. The life of a cowboy on the frontier can be best described as a constant torrent of vile-smelling drunken revelry. The cowboy's animal-like demeanor can be further seen in his most uncivilized mode of conflict resolution. Rather than fixing conflicts like any self-respecting human would, the cowboy unhesitantly resorted to six-shooters. How, by any measure, can we look at these barbarians as heroes? We should deride them as a blemish on our proud history as Americans, not present them as role models to our children. Something is seriously wrong with our nation. We purport to accept values of hard work, temperance and self-restraint yet we idolize and devote entire cinematic genres to rowdy, immoral degenerates. We shouldn't look at the John Waynes and the Clint Eastwoods as great actors; we should look at them as great frauds. Frauds who only prolong America's perversely misguided interpretations of historical fact. --Peter Doe

original art by Joe Mama

Monday, November 5, 2007

Poet's Korner

This week's featured artist is a beat poet by the name of Charlie Weigman. Weigman's confrontational pieces are more often than not performed impromptu on the street and at fever pitch. We managed to catch up with him and record this poem at the local Ford-Mercury-Buick dealership.

That Audi has Mercedes stylings
These Ritz taste like Triscuits
This Coca-Cola drinks like a Pepsi
These Nikes look like those Adidas
Those Levis fit like these Wranglers

A brand-name boy just don’t know what to do.

Charlie Weigman, we salute you!

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Holiday Greeting:

Have a bitchin' Halloween!

Pushing the Envelope...

The Kreation Korner is proud to present another daring venture by acclaimed street poet and freelance documentary host Chris Peebles. In his new poem, "Confrontation with a Barber," Peebles' gritty voice illustrates a vivid, disturbing--yet beautiful--picture of the seamy underbelly of Anytown, U.S.A. In an exclusive Kreation Korner interview, Peebles expressed confidence in his latest work of prose. "I see 'Confrontation' as the next step in the evolution of Chris Peebles," he said, "People won't want to read it. They're afraid of what they don't understand. Personally, I don't think there's anything scary about challenging the status quo." And challenge it he does. But you, as the reader, will have to make that decision for yourself. So, without further ado, The Kreation Korner brings you the unbridled, unprecedented, unbelievably mind-blowing "Confrontation with a Barber":

Where are you going
with those scissors
and that smug look on
your face?

Are you a barber
or something?
“A barber?” you scoff
“What year is this?”

Let me tell you
something about barbers
they cut my ears
you unctuous piece of shit.

-Chris Peebles

We can't wait to hear your comments! ~TKK

Friday, October 26, 2007

Bovine Musings

The cow is thoughtfully
chewing. I can’t imagine
what she is thinking about.

Probably her calfhood.
Her big sad eyes are
a dead giveaway.


Kommentary Korner

I enjoy a feature-length comedy sci-fi romp just as much as the next person, but do those Hollywood bigwigs honestly expect us to believe Robert Zemeckis' 1985 film "Back to the Future?" Honestly, I can handle an acceptable amount of far-fetchedness, but BTTF maxes out the bogus-o-meter big time. For example, at the beginning of the movie the credits roll as the camera pans slowly over the interior of Dr. Emmett Brown's (Christopher Lloyd) house. What the viewer sees is clock after clock. Doc Brown's house is literally filled with clocks! Does anyone seriously have that many clocks? When was the last time you entered a house filled with clocks? I find it insulting that executive producer Steven Spielberg would trick the public into thinking someone could fit such an unacceptable quantity of clocks into only one house. This film's far-fetched aspects don't end with the clocks. The producers of BTTF continue to exaggerate reality in the next scene when Marty McFly (Michael J. Fox) is late for school. While traveling down the street on his skateboard, Marty decides to accelerate his journey by grabbing onto the back of a car and having it tow him. Yeah right! That would knock you on your ass, and you'd probably get run-over. In the real world, Marty would have died in a grisly road accident, not gotten to school faster. A third and final scene that further emphasizes the outlandishly unbelievable nature of "Back to the Future" is a scene back in 1955 when Marty is being chased by Biff (Thomas F. Wilson) and his cronies. Marty is too swift for his pursuers and causes them to drive their car into a manure truck which promptly empties onto the passengers. A manure truck parked right in the middle of a downtown square? Give me a break! This is by far the most unrealistic aspect of "Back to the Future." I could handle the clocks and the skateboard shenanigans, but the manure truck pushes it over the edge. If you happen to see a truck filled with cow leavings parked smack-dab directly in the middle of a city, please let me know. But I know you'll never let me know because you'll never see one because it’s a stupid, made-up thing that's too ridiculous even for the movies. I could go on all day about BTTF, but I feel like I've made my point adamantly clear. So, Hollywood, here's my message: next time you make a movie about time travel, make it true to reality! --Peter Doe

Monday, October 15, 2007

It's a girl!

The newest artist to be featured here at the Korner is known simply as Marilyn. An active feminist, Marilyn's very name seems to posit profound questions as to the state of womanhood in the present and its inextricable link to the past. Her latest creative phase has seen a shift to an intentionally crude style, one which utilizes bright colors and childlike scribblings. Of this particular piece, Marilyn stated that, while her proclamation may at first seem a bit immature, it is in fact TV personalities such as those on The View that are "the real enemy; these women are supposed to represent the women of America? That's the real insult right there. This is simply a tool to keep women from gaining any respect, because honestly, who respects Barbara Walters?" The Kreation Korner is proud to support a thinker like Marilyn and we are confident that her continued creative expression will be of utmost importance in the years to come.

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

Two for one.

Today the Kreation Korner is proud to bring you its first of the Featured Artist, Davin Krengel. Krengel's art often showcases and satirizes the absurdities of modern life, and approaches its subjects with erudite wit and a touch of detached despondency. In this piece, Krengel couples a haiku and a rough rendering of an event he says was inspired by a "truly petrifying experience in the living testament to American spirit, the mighty and vast WalMart."

Trash Trifectism (Japanese Import)

A tattoo atop
A small sliver of ass-crack
A flimsy jean skirt

Monday, September 17, 2007

And Now A Message From The Vice President of The United States of America

In an effort to lighten the nation's mood, Richard Bruce Cheney, affectionately called "Dick" by his compatriots, has embraced a more youthful image as of late. Some analysts say that this newly adopted, Hilton-esque attitude is meant to strengthen the ties between the general public and the higher-ups of national government. The US government has been calling on such beacons of public trust as the Kreation Korner and others to disseminate the message in the hopes that the nation might be brought closer together. We here at the Korner are always more than happy to wield our might for the greater good, and it is thus with great pleasure that we bring you this message:

Friday, September 14, 2007

This is some poetry:

Have you ever seen a dog?
They're hairy and eat dog food.
No? You are a liar.

Where did you get that fruit?
I don't see a fruit store nearby.
Is there something you are not telling me?

Where did you go?
Was it Utah or Asia?
Tell me how it went--I'm going to travel soon.

I think peanuts should be our national food.
They're delicious and can be made into a butter.
Some people are allergic to them, but I don't think they'd mind.

He looked like a bird.
He smelled like a fish.
They called him "birdman" and he ate fish.

I hope this poetry will bring you closer to enlightenment.
-Chris Peebles.

Friday Musings

fourteenth summer

where are the slush puppies of yore?
i yearn for the
days of summer again
what of the ice cream snickers?
where are the old navy

-Huey Dood

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Welcome, you!

Greetings, blog viewer! Welcome to The Kreation Korner. Forget everything you thought you knew about kreation and korners. Your mind--as well as body and soul--will be blown. The Kreation Korner will blow your mind with ideas challenging to the status quo. The Kreation Korner will blow your body with physical side effects that occur when one's mind is blown. The Kreation Korner will blow your soul with challenging new soul-related stimuli that leave your soul feeling blown.
At The Kreation Korner, we know that these are uncertain times, and the inhabitants of our planet are deprived of blowing in every sense of the word. It is our mission to remedy this deficiency and give future generations a fighting chance. So give us a chance. We can change your life. All you need is a smile, an open mind and the ability to read.
Prepare to have your mind, body and soul blown!

-The Kreation Korner Team