Subliminal White Trash

Welcome. This site contains a cross section of my writing including stories, comedy skits, poetry, dialogues and observational humour with a satirical edge. Feedback is much appreciated. Coming through people! Clear a path! My e-mail is kevincpearce@yahoo.com

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Location: Burlington, Ontario, Canada

After graduating high school in 1995 with a significant amount of embarrassingly cliched emotional baggage, Kevin "Subliminal White Trash" Pearce made his way to Toronto in a perfectly understandable attempt to outrun his past. After encountering many similarly desperate and stubbornly eccentric people, Kevin found his way into the acting and spoken word scenes. With an amazing and almost inhuman effort, Kevin somehow negotiated through his self destructive tendencies on his way to finding some kind of second rate enlightenment in his strange little world of reckless, impulsive creativity. After spending three years in Toronto, Kevin decided to return to the suburbs in order to preserve his diminishing supply of mental health. Sometimes he even thinks it was the right decision.

Sunday, June 04, 2006

Digging up the Past

A few things I dug up from the archives...

A little background on the following piece "Texas wants me dead". I wrote it in March of 1997 about a week before traveling on the Greyhound to Austin, Texas for a Spoken Word Festival. I was in a very fragile state of mind so I thought I'd take the paranoia I was feeling about the trip and write something that went completely off the deep end just for a laugh.

Texas wants me dead

The State of Texas wants me dead
I live in fear of Texas every day of my life
Texas has dismantled and rebuilt me in the image of its anger
Whenever the phone rings, it's somebody uttering death threats on behalf of Texas
Texas has been planning my funeral since the day I was born
Each time I breathe Texas takes it as a personal insult
Every time a murder is committed in Texas I am directly responsible
Every time somebody commits suicide in Texas it is my fault
I am to blame for every teenage runaway, junkie prostitute and serial killer in the State of Texas since the day I was born
Texas tells me that I belong on Death Row without an appeal
They won't even give me a goddamn lawyer
Texas has already signed my Death Certificate but refuses to pay for the funeral
I've tried to negotiate but Texas hates the sound of my voice and won't let me speak
Texas has gone to great lengths to neutralize my semen. It was the only weapon I had left
Texas has isolated my DNA and will try to stop the same mistake from happening again
The State of Texas will not rest until I am dead and there is nothing I can do about it

DISTORTED DISCOURSE

alcoholic actors age artificially
frustrated feminists fornicate fiendishly
clever cops cripple conspiracies
nervous nannies neglect nurseries
morbid ministers murder martyrs
jealous judges justify junkies
lazy lawyers liberate lunatics
paranoid pimps pacify prostitutes
emotional eccentrics execute evangelists
gullible gangsters glorify graveyards
horny hypocrites horrify humanists
impotent invalids inspire incest
scorned schizophrenics sabotage sanity
disgraced diplomats destroy democracy
tormented terrorists terminate treason
reformed rapists regret redemption

A young boy is playing in a sandbox not far from a busy intersection.
He is wearing a hearing aid.
He has almost finished digging a large hole.
The sounds of the cars grow louder as rush hour approaches.
He climbs into the hole and takes off his hearing aid.
He starts to put sand in both of his ears and begins to cry.
The traffic continues...

You don't want to know how long I'll wait
for something to make sense between us
I've learned to enjoy the masochism
So cast aside your survival instinct
when the boredom hits
to humble yourself before me
and let this cloud of emotional paralysis that surrounds us
corrode your mind awhile
while I think up a new punishment we can share