Initial STATEMENT

This book is titled Lyric & Other. Please allow these words to sink in. When I was a young boy, I thought long and hard about what I could possibly do to make the world a better place.
Ten,.. twenty years went by. I hadn’t the foggiest notion. The world I lived in moved at such blinding speed
it was very difficult to make heads or tails outta it.

I took stupid jobs. I slept outdoors. I feel in love with the hard luck cases. I frequented cities with glorious libraries.
I made friends with truly extraordinary creatures. I was protected the entire time by angels who would clear my path.
After dying a handful of times and discovering the organic path of light I gave up my fears and put my well being into the
hands of my creator who is an artful and loving spirit.

I found I was in possession of the quite heavenly gift of communication. You can imagine my shock, of course, a wild child from
wasteland Amerika… a communicator? There it was. The numbers didn’t lie. Nights of comfort were afforded me in the luxury
of stunning girls and women who fell for me to such an extent that my life was spared from the US Penal system and the
county morgue.

I figured I had to do something. Whether or not this is Nobel quality now or in the near far distant future it remains
something I did for everyone who ever believed in me, gave me shelter, gave me love, food, a chance…
If there distinct devices, within this body of work, which cause your hair to stand on edge just remember the World is
sometimes like that. If something makes you happy share it with someone and let them feel your joy.
 
First and foremost these are emotions crafted as literature
lest we forget…
The spelling of English words is not fixed and invariable, nor does it depend on any other authority than
general agreement. @ the present day there is practically unanimous agreement as to the spelling of most
words….@ any given moment, BAM!, a relatively small # of words may be spelled in more than 1 way.
Gradually, as a rule, 1 of the$e form$ come$ to be generally preferred, & the less ¢ustomary form
comes to look obsolete & is dis¢arded.
PMPope
 

This is the first Edge of the World Productions uSA page. It was crafted while  our production staff was slogging  through the border of Seattle/Shorline[thx Clarice] through the oppression known as  Charlotte, up into the uptightness of  DC Metro & around the Mediteranean (wynter, brrr…) The picture you will find on the front is a picture taken en la casa de mi amigo Alejandro {Out in Queens} So I hope that in some small historical way it will be viewed as a travel map in the life of a Multi-Media Productionist!

Love to all

Blogged with Flock

Lebanon Facing its Worst Environmental Disaster Ever: Oil Spill From Israeli Strike Still Untreated After One Month

Belfast Telegraph

Forget Texas; don’t mess with South Austin taco joint owner

America’s Top Model Writers Strike Back

Twelve staffers on Tyra Banks’ hit reality show, America’s Top Model, say that they are actually writing the “unscripted” show and they want the right to unionize and be paid benefits, just like members of the Writers Guild. Of course, the entire reason they were hired and not called “writers” is so that the producers wouldn’t have to pay them what Guild members make.

They’re called “the story department.” They slave over treatments and final drafts. They agonize over storytelling techniques, character development and plot twists. But are they writers?The answer is yes if you ask the 12 staff producers on the reality hit “America’s Next Top Model” who went on strike July 21 to win recognition as members of the Writers Guild of America. The “Top Model” dozen have been walking a picket line outside the West Los Angeles offices of the show’s executive producer Ken Mok ever since.

“Say you’re watching a (‘Top Model’) scene with six girls standing around talking,” says Kai Bowe, a striking “Top Model” associate show producer. “And then you switch to a girl in (a one-on-one) interview, and then you go back to the girls talking but with a few lines of voice-over from the interview. We’re the ones who choose all of that, line by line.”

Adds Bowe’s fellow striker Sara Sluke, “It’s not like it comes out of the camera that way.”As show producers and associate show producers, they slog through an average of 200 hours of raw footage to assemble each 41-minute episode. They shape the story lines in each episode and the overarching drama for each cycle of competition. They determine how the characters are portrayed — and they find the “red herrings” to throw in to keep things from getting too predictable, Sluke says.

The “Top Model” labor action marks an escalation of the union’s efforts to organize in the reality TV arena. That push has drawn criticism from some in the industry who view it as a costly effort waged on behalf of nonmembers who are employed by the very shows that are taking jobs away from existing members.

This is merely the latest battle in the war between the Writers Guild and those who produce reality television, which is anything but unscripted. The bottom line is: if it creates a script and it writes lines, it’s a writer. The gig for reality shows is up: it’s time to admit that all these shows are scripted and then hire actual Writers Guild members to do the work.

Tony is back! After a whirlwind campaign of hustle and sweat down in LA-LAville our intrepid chair/pincushion crafter/artisan has returned to the fair shores of the SOMA for a special encore performance. Though I will admit, his ‘NEW’ style of ‘styrofoam and polyesther blend multi-purpose chair‘ goes beyond my expectations (re: intial concept styling of Fit 4 a King Enterprises) None-the-less he has returned and is in rare form.

Though his experimentations with alternative materials allowed his socio-political creativity room to breath and run wild. His ‘Styrofoam Period‘ is done. All investors will be happily re-enstated for the future beta run of the summer production schedule.{Note: new investors are welcomed to request a perspectus of product and sales projections after 7-15-06}

So, after searching and scouring the streets of SF, It seems our intrepid chair designer has up and split towards the more southerly regions of the state, namely Santa Monica beach, where he tells me he is able to sell mass quantities of chairs in a much healthier atmosphere.The Fit 4 A King Enterprise is closing it’s doors to the public. All stockholders will still be reimbursed the 347% ON THE INTIAL CAPITAL as per our agreement. Do not contact this poster claiming funds owed without A) Business name B) Copy of signed Shareholders Agreement Notarized with 3-DHOLONotary C)Test Scan as per Article IIV in Shareholders Rights.

I know I owe a great deal of money to all of my shareholders, which will be returned as expediently as is humanly possible, moreover,I owe you a great deal of my honor for believing in this project with all it’s tangles and weaves. Someone once said ‘It’s not the man who walks the staright path to the very end who is the success. Any person finding themselves on a strange path full of possibilities, who explores and persevers, they alone epitomize success.’ From where I am sitting right now,this applies to each and everyone of you.

please contact through pmpope@dodgeit.com

Have a great day.

Epistle: 1
THE DAY HAD COME

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

PMPope

The day had come after the long darkness. After the screaming and wailing echoing through every chamber constructed for the sole purpose of collecting riches from the poor, to put into the pockets of the rich. After every human manipulation had failed to drive away the lonely night and banish it through technological information well formed and marked up according to the rules of the leading scientist of this era, the day had come.

With this day’s approach, the outlines of the refugee corpses grow more and more distinct. The brightly shining Sun uncovers every mystery occurring through the stretch of night brought forth with the help of the organic nature of man. Man is a creation of God’s love for the Earth and this very same creature has attempted to destroy that creation.

Let’s not get it wrong, brothers and sisters. Man is not God but a creation of God. A creation endowed with great and terrible gifts, which enable Him to tend this place. God is God. There are no two ways around this. God is God.

You may call God a figment of imagination. This matters not. Every tongue that speaks; every brain that contemplates; every ear that hears this, understands the concept… God is God.

We humans are the ones who need. We need food, shelter, clothing, and all the things that separate us from ‘the rest of the animals’. We also need the esoteric things. We need Love, Peace, & understanding.

Our needs drive us into lustful frenzies. We forget, quite often, that we are a part of this planet. We are supposed to be here. We have lost the ability to breath through our gills. We are still learning to fly. Like it or not, this is where we are at… this is where we belong.

I don’t want to come off as a holy roller or anything. God knows the things I have seen and done. I guess I’m no angel. No, wait. I am no angel. If I were, I’d write you guys a letter so holy. I’d then stamp it in fire on the tallest mountain so it would burn for a billion years. It would give light and heat. As you read this letter no harm would befall you. I would send birds from Whole Foods and Trader Joe’s to deliver food all around my letter. There, next to the place of the letter, would be a natural and never ending spring. Pure water would flow sweetly to quench your thirsts as you read the letter.

As each man, woman, and child finished reading this letter, all in their own good time, they would make their way back into the World and tell their neighbors what they saw.

I realize this may sound fantastic or come off as some hippie, marijuana-induced, utopist daydream of a platonic producer of poesy, but I’m just trying to convey the point that this is exactly what I would do if I were an angel.

Even I am not so naïve as to think there wouldn’t be SUVs cutting along the footpaths, helicopters swarming, or lawyers and soldiers coming to take over this thing I can only dream of, without the major sponsorship of a multi-trillion dollar movie industry.

I believe in God. That’s good. I am on the right path. I am slow. When I run through the jungle my feet get tangled in the vines and brambles. I am not very charismatic. I am suspicious of everything and everybody. I get jealous. I lie. I cheat. I steal. I abuse the very people I expect not to abuse others. I come up with crazy ideas. I lead people into false hopes. I am writing this at 8:50 am on Wednesday when the rest of the God fearing world is rushing willy-nilly to put on its’ stockings and ties and take their lumps out in the gristmill of the financial world. I mean, look at me. Those poor immigrant children are rushing off to class so they can become financially stable and productive members of this society. I, on the other hand, am reclining with laptop on crossed knee to write some fairy story of how great the world would be if I were to reach the highest peak of angelhood and start burning words into the mountainside. There oughta be a law against such a wicked man.

The night had passed. The night leashed its’ shadows and headed to the other side of the planet, in much the same way a lion tamer might lightly smack the lion’s hindquarters with a riding crop to lead it into a transportation cage. I’ve always thought the night a bit more juvenile than the day. The night has served me well throughout my youth and into adulthood. I do not feel the lure of the sunlit world to do the banking, legal, retail associated with propriety of humanely orchestrated society. The night is for lovers, poets, artists, dancers, spiritualists, & other esoteric fringe creatures. This is especially true in the cosmopolitan sections of society where great numbers of people gather.

I have believed the night to be a separate reality from the day-lit world. Until I am proven otherwise I will believe this to be a constant truth. I could, and have, survive very well in spending my nightly hours applied to tasks of basic existence (i.e. shopping, banking, buying…) There is a culture of the night. I do not include the people sitting around burning in front of a television set as a portion of this culture. Such as I am doing at this point in my development. I don’t want to do it but I still do it. Weird, huh?

What else are you gonna do at night? Spend all your time hanging out at bars and 24hr restaurants? I mean live. The things that happen in daylight should also happen at night, is all I’m saying. Twenty-four hour public services.

We pay for them to be on all the time. Say you’d like to mail a letter at midnight. Why shouldn’t you have this option? Who would complain? Don’t you think there would be an entire workforce for the night? Of course there would. There already is. Maybe the political thinking is that a nocturnal culture would upset the entire political scheme we’ve set up here. Why not? Things could use a good dusting.

This is the reason for this particular portion of writing. Peace, Love, and understanding. We all need one another. Even if we can’t see them it doesn’t denigrate their necessity.

Let us not curse one another with the bitterness we feel directed towards ourselves.

Let us Live and let Live. If you are against this basic article, you are against me and if you are against me there is no way you could be with me.

I bid you peace to know that I come in the name of the Lord God Almighty.

For the Kingdom & the Power & the Glory

Forever and Ever

Amen & Amen

PMPope