You walk into the room
With your pencil in your hand
You see somebody naked
And you say, "Who is that man?"
You try so hard
But you don't understand
Just what you'll say
When you get home
Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?
You raise up your head
And you ask, "Is this where it is?"
And somebody points to you and says
"It's his"
And you say, "What's mine?"
And somebody else says, "Where what is?"
And you say, "Oh my God
Am I here all alone?"
Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?
You hand in your ticket
And you go watch the geek
Who immediately walks up to you
When he hears you speak
And says, "How does it feel
To be such a freak?"
And you say, "Impossible"
As he hands you a bone
Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?
You have many contacts
Among the lumberjacks
To get you facts
When someone attacks your imagination
But nobody has any respect
Anyway they already expect you
To just give a check
To tax-deductible charity organizations
You've been with the professors
And they've all liked your looks
With great lawyers you have
Discussed lepers and crooks
You've been through all of
F. Scott Fitzgerald's books
You're very well read
It's well known
Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?
Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you
And then he kneels
He crosses himself
And then he clicks his high heels
And without further notice
He asks you how it feels
And he says, "Here is your throat back
Thanks for the loan"
Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?
Now you see this one-eyed midget
Shouting the word "NOW"
And you say, "For what reason?"
And he says, "How?"
And you say, "What does this mean?"
And he screams back, "You're a cow
Give me some milk
Or else go home"
Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?
Well, you walk into the room
Like a camel and then you frown
You put your eyes in your pocket
And your nose on the ground
There ought to be a law
Against you comin' around
You should be made
To wear earphones
Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?
28 December 2008
24 December 2008
Four Blocks in the Snow
Disc 1
01. Rock and roll
02. sick again
03. over the hill and far away
04. In my time of dying
05. The song remains the same
06. the rain song
07. Kashmir
Disc 2
01. No quarter
02. Trampled underfoot
03. Moby Dick
Disc 3
01. Dazed and Confused
02. Stairway to heaven
03. Whole lotta love
04. Black dog
05. Heartbreaker
Jesus Fucking Christ.
17 December 2008
14 December 2008
11 December 2008
10 December 2008
08 December 2008
A Viceral Memory Dump
This is a summation of a few things that need addressing. I had a conversation, a beyond mind blowing conversation, with a man in the oil business. He called himself Jack. Our conversation began with talk of the economy. His opinion was that American consumers and culture wanted "wimps" in the places of business. He told me that in all of this "crisis", all of our "troubles" with oil and gasoline, he is doing better than he has ever done before. What does this tell you? Man invents things to keep himself worried. We like to know that we still fuel our man made machines. We talked for a while and after a time Jack excused himself because of matters that needed attending to. He closed with this, and I quote, "Let me tell you something. My daddy was a farmer. I was raised a farmer. He taught me the best lesson I have ever learned. He would say 'Put your head down and push. Quit chasin rabbits and push'. I never forgot that and this culture needs to learn it too." It speaks to the lack of common sense that seems to be abundant right now. This man learned his way. I do not mean to call him a perfect human being, but since when does that ever matter. He is just a man who has made a little something for himself and his family. Why is that so wrong? AND WHY CAN'T MOST PEOPLE UNDERSTAND THAT?!?!?!? Why do they lack what he has? Goddammit. Who knows. Fuck it, right? Turtle always wins the race. Those that can endure, survive, come out ahead in the end. SURVIVAL IS WHAT WE NEED NOW!!! COMMON SENSE SURVIVAL!! bitch, bitch, bitch.Quit the rabbit chasing indeed.
05 December 2008
Reason to Believe
Seen a man standin over a dead dog lyin by the highway in a ditch
He's lookin down kinda puzzled pokin that dog with a stick
Got his car door flung open he's standin out on highway 31
Like if he stood there long enough that dog get up and run
Struck me kinda funny seem kinda funny sir to me
Still at the end of every hard day people find some reason to believe
Now Mary Lou loved Johnny with a love mean and true
She said baby I'll work for you everyday and bring my money home to you
One day he up and left her and ever since that
She waits down at the end of that dirt road for young Johnny to come back
Struck me kinda funny funny yea indeed how at the end of every hard earned day you can find some reason to believe
Take a baby to the river Kyle William they called him
Wash the baby in the water take away little Kyle's sin
In a whitewash shotgun shack an old man passes away take the body to the graveyard and over him they pray Lord won't you tell us,
Tell us what does it mean
At the end of every hard earned day people find some reason to believe
Congregation gathers down by the riverside
Preacher stands with his bible, groom stands waitin for his bride
Congregation gone and the sun sets behind a weepin willow tree
Groom stands alone and watches the river rush on so effortlessly
Wonderin where can his baby be still at the end of every hard earned day people find some reason to believe
He's lookin down kinda puzzled pokin that dog with a stick
Got his car door flung open he's standin out on highway 31
Like if he stood there long enough that dog get up and run
Struck me kinda funny seem kinda funny sir to me
Still at the end of every hard day people find some reason to believe
Now Mary Lou loved Johnny with a love mean and true
She said baby I'll work for you everyday and bring my money home to you
One day he up and left her and ever since that
She waits down at the end of that dirt road for young Johnny to come back
Struck me kinda funny funny yea indeed how at the end of every hard earned day you can find some reason to believe
Take a baby to the river Kyle William they called him
Wash the baby in the water take away little Kyle's sin
In a whitewash shotgun shack an old man passes away take the body to the graveyard and over him they pray Lord won't you tell us,
Tell us what does it mean
At the end of every hard earned day people find some reason to believe
Congregation gathers down by the riverside
Preacher stands with his bible, groom stands waitin for his bride
Congregation gone and the sun sets behind a weepin willow tree
Groom stands alone and watches the river rush on so effortlessly
Wonderin where can his baby be still at the end of every hard earned day people find some reason to believe
03 December 2008
Once in 50 Years
This was the night sky on Monday. The planets are Jupiter and Venus. An event to remember.
01 December 2008
24 November 2008
05 November 2008
A Puddle of Our Own Piss and Blood; Passing a Kidney Stone the Shape and Size of a Donkey
And so a dark chapter opens in the history of our time. A testament to the gullibility and naivety of our generation. I can feel the concrete on my face as the new president elect's smiling visage looks down at me with his boot on the back of my head, shoving me into the urine of the public.
Is this a test? It has to be.
I do not usually endorse one candidate or another, our whole system is fucked and the president is a neutered dog that takes orders from the people that wrote the checks to his campaign fund, but I equally refuse to believe what he preaches to be the truth. The government is just levels of control and because of the fact, THE SAD FUCKING FACT, that we as a society can't even piss without wetting the front of our pants, people call for a bigger system, more control, more help because god forbid I get some GODDAMN OIL AND DIRT UNDER MY FINGERNAILS. Bastards. Swine. Jesus fucking Christ.
I heard that the majority of the vote was a scorn vote. Meaning people were so angry at W that they went to the polls blindly and cast their lot in with that rat fucking philistine. WHAT SENSE DOES THAT MAKE?!?!? WHY IS THAT ANY REASON TO DO ANYTHING?!?!
Goddamnit.
I drop to my knees and look at my assailant. I look him in the eye. Do I see anger? Do I see passion? Do I see the fire I thirst for? No. I see apathy. I see the blender starting up to put us all in. The recipe for one big shit sandwich is in the mix. We will all take a bite. I W I L L F O R C E Y O U T O T A K E A B I T E. You will enjoy it. You will swallow it. Then when you get that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, when that cold thing happens to your gut, WHAT I FEEL EVERYDAY, you will vomit so hard that your face will explode. Is this what you wanted? Is this what you had in mind? 'Cause this is what you are getting. You will ask for peace. I will offer none. You will ask for mercy. There is none to give.
We are eternal. This pain is an illusion. I hope you choke.
We will be thankful to be alive and breathing. A bastard from a bastard. The afterbirth that slithered out on our mother's filth. Still humping the American dream. Sad and pathetic infants, abandoned by the pack.
Christ, I feel so tired.
Is this a test? It has to be.
I do not usually endorse one candidate or another, our whole system is fucked and the president is a neutered dog that takes orders from the people that wrote the checks to his campaign fund, but I equally refuse to believe what he preaches to be the truth. The government is just levels of control and because of the fact, THE SAD FUCKING FACT, that we as a society can't even piss without wetting the front of our pants, people call for a bigger system, more control, more help because god forbid I get some GODDAMN OIL AND DIRT UNDER MY FINGERNAILS. Bastards. Swine. Jesus fucking Christ.
I heard that the majority of the vote was a scorn vote. Meaning people were so angry at W that they went to the polls blindly and cast their lot in with that rat fucking philistine. WHAT SENSE DOES THAT MAKE?!?!? WHY IS THAT ANY REASON TO DO ANYTHING?!?!
Goddamnit.
I drop to my knees and look at my assailant. I look him in the eye. Do I see anger? Do I see passion? Do I see the fire I thirst for? No. I see apathy. I see the blender starting up to put us all in. The recipe for one big shit sandwich is in the mix. We will all take a bite. I W I L L F O R C E Y O U T O T A K E A B I T E. You will enjoy it. You will swallow it. Then when you get that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, when that cold thing happens to your gut, WHAT I FEEL EVERYDAY, you will vomit so hard that your face will explode. Is this what you wanted? Is this what you had in mind? 'Cause this is what you are getting. You will ask for peace. I will offer none. You will ask for mercy. There is none to give.
We are eternal. This pain is an illusion. I hope you choke.
We will be thankful to be alive and breathing. A bastard from a bastard. The afterbirth that slithered out on our mother's filth. Still humping the American dream. Sad and pathetic infants, abandoned by the pack.
Christ, I feel so tired.
17 October 2008
16 October 2008
08 October 2008
Goddammit...
You look nervous.
Is it the scars?
You wanna know how I got them?
Come here. Come here.
I had a wife, beautiful like you. Who tells me I worry too much. Who says I need to smile more. Who gambles and gets in deep with the sharks.
One day they carve her face, and we have no money for surgeries. She can't take it. I just want to see her smile again. I just want her to know I don't car about the scars. So I put a razor in my mouth and do this to myself... And you know what?
She can't stand the sight of me. She leaves. See, now I see the funny side.
Now I'm always smiling.
Is it the scars?
You wanna know how I got them?
Come here. Come here.
I had a wife, beautiful like you. Who tells me I worry too much. Who says I need to smile more. Who gambles and gets in deep with the sharks.
One day they carve her face, and we have no money for surgeries. She can't take it. I just want to see her smile again. I just want her to know I don't car about the scars. So I put a razor in my mouth and do this to myself... And you know what?
She can't stand the sight of me. She leaves. See, now I see the funny side.
Now I'm always smiling.
28 September 2008
21 September 2008
17 September 2008
Delicate Tendrils
Now, because you own , you possess.
You have something that they can take.
You remember how it was when you had nothing.
You looked at the ones who had what you wanted
and you felt strong in your need.
Brave in your limited surroundings.
Righteous in your desires for something different.
Contemptuous of those who had exactly what you wanted.
You hated them because they looked weak and slightly scared.
You circled the water hole and thought about closing in.
Now you have it and feel weak in your power to keep it.
You feel desperate to make them see that you won't let them take it away.
Because it's yours.
You never had to justify yourself and your possessions before.
I earned this.
I worked hard for what I've got.
I paid my dues.
I deserve this.
You say these things to yourself as the animals circle and wait.
Shake your fists at the Hyenas.
Chase them away from your water hole.
Justify.
See them all differently..
Now you see that they all want something.
You get some juice.
Human becomes prey.
Human gets scared.
Figure out that you have to become hard to keep it yours.
You have to be cruel.
You have to kill them off just for looking.
Leave the bodies by the water hole so the rest will see.
Hang spent bullet cases from fishing line outside
all the windows of your house.
Put up signs.
Please break in.
I would love the opportunity to kill you legally.
Let the fear turn into desperate anger.
Start seeing the differences in people.
They all start looking suspicious.
They all want.
The need never stops.
Out there, someone is always needing.
Always hungry.
Always looking at you.
Checking your eyes for weakness.
Zeroing in on the vein in your neck.
As they circle the water hole.
And close in.
You have something that they can take.
You remember how it was when you had nothing.
You looked at the ones who had what you wanted
and you felt strong in your need.
Brave in your limited surroundings.
Righteous in your desires for something different.
Contemptuous of those who had exactly what you wanted.
You hated them because they looked weak and slightly scared.
You circled the water hole and thought about closing in.
Now you have it and feel weak in your power to keep it.
You feel desperate to make them see that you won't let them take it away.
Because it's yours.
You never had to justify yourself and your possessions before.
I earned this.
I worked hard for what I've got.
I paid my dues.
I deserve this.
You say these things to yourself as the animals circle and wait.
Shake your fists at the Hyenas.
Chase them away from your water hole.
Justify.
See them all differently..
Now you see that they all want something.
You get some juice.
Human becomes prey.
Human gets scared.
Figure out that you have to become hard to keep it yours.
You have to be cruel.
You have to kill them off just for looking.
Leave the bodies by the water hole so the rest will see.
Hang spent bullet cases from fishing line outside
all the windows of your house.
Put up signs.
Please break in.
I would love the opportunity to kill you legally.
Let the fear turn into desperate anger.
Start seeing the differences in people.
They all start looking suspicious.
They all want.
The need never stops.
Out there, someone is always needing.
Always hungry.
Always looking at you.
Checking your eyes for weakness.
Zeroing in on the vein in your neck.
As they circle the water hole.
And close in.
04 September 2008
21 August 2008
I had been anticipating this film since I heard it was in creation. Even thought it was released on the 4th of July ano domini 2008, it only recently was available near me. I would not go into this film looking to learn what Dr. Thompson thought. For that you should, and you should be anyway even if you aren't looking to learn anything, read his collection of books. True patriotism. Nevertheless, one should view this piece of work with wide open eyes. After watching it, I walked outside, said my good byes to the like minded friends, got in my car, and couldn't help but cry. This was brought on by several things. The most obvious being the regrettable loss of the Gonzo journalist. While I do not blame him for taking his own life, he is desperately needed in the coming times. The break in my composure was also do to the content of the film. After looking at his life, his times, and comparing them to what we live in now, it is suffocating. Times when idealism was what we feared and not economic power. Times when who is elected doesn't make a difference because the position of president is a neutered dog. Times when our nation was not dissolving itself from the inside by destroying any idea of American nationalism. We are throwing away our workforce, our pride, our own identity. Times when our system wasn't just an illusion of control. Our gluttony wasn't unbearable. The final weight was the simple fact that people as a whole just don't care. The theater was close to empty, not to mention most theaters won't even carry the movie. Why? Because people don't want to see it. They won't pay for it. It's all about the money. Christ. Goddamn lizards. All slithering toward the giant cash cow. My generation is caught up in their own uselessness and ungrounded life. They don't care. Apathy is their cloak. No not their cloak, their trophy! THEIR FUCKING TROPHY!! THEY ARE PROUD OF THEIR DISPASSIONATE NATURE!!! IT IS A COMPETITION TO THEM!!!! THEY WHERE IT AROUND THEIR NECK LIKE IT IS A SYMBOL OF POWER!! christ. It makes me feel so small. They don't care. They call Hunter a freak. And when he embraced the freak term they called him crazy. Persecution is the name of the game. This is one of the beautiful things about Hunter's death. He showed them that he was the only one who could take his life. He was a genius which makes it all the more tragic that no one cares. As I have said before, the apathy is more angering then anything else. If you hate me, HATE ME!! Don't be so fucking passive aggressive about it. HATE ME!!! AND BE DAMN PROUD OF IT! Don't crumble when challenged. STICK TO YOUR GODDAMN PRINCIPLES! SHOW ME THAT YOU HAVE SOME! We are a time without principles. Principles are viewed as evil. But our culture does not know what evil truly is. They have no idea.
20 August 2008
14 August 2008
The Patient
A groan of tedium escapes me,
Startling the fearful.
Is this a test? It has to be,
Otherwise I can't go on.
Draining patience, drain vitality.
This paranoid, paralyzed vampire act's a little old.
But I'm still right here
Giving blood, keeping faith
And I'm still right here.
Wait it out,
Gonna wait it out,
Be patient (wait it out).
If there were no rewards to reap,
No loving embrace to see me through
This tedious path I've chosen here,
I certainly would've walked away by now.
Gonna wait it out.
If there were no desire to heal
The damaged and broken met along
This tedious path I've chosen here
I certainly would've walked away by now.
And I still may ... (sigh) ... I still may.
Be patient.
I must keep reminding myself of this.
And if there were no rewards to reap,
No loving embrace to see me through
This tedious path I've chosen here,
I certainly would've walked away by now.
And I still may.
Gonna wait it out.
Startling the fearful.
Is this a test? It has to be,
Otherwise I can't go on.
Draining patience, drain vitality.
This paranoid, paralyzed vampire act's a little old.
But I'm still right here
Giving blood, keeping faith
And I'm still right here.
Wait it out,
Gonna wait it out,
Be patient (wait it out).
If there were no rewards to reap,
No loving embrace to see me through
This tedious path I've chosen here,
I certainly would've walked away by now.
Gonna wait it out.
If there were no desire to heal
The damaged and broken met along
This tedious path I've chosen here
I certainly would've walked away by now.
And I still may ... (sigh) ... I still may.
Be patient.
I must keep reminding myself of this.
And if there were no rewards to reap,
No loving embrace to see me through
This tedious path I've chosen here,
I certainly would've walked away by now.
And I still may.
Gonna wait it out.
06 August 2008
Back; the Double Entendre
I went home Saturday night, or to be more accurate Sunday morning, thinking. I sat down when I had some time to really think and began to play music as I often do. I found myself with a pen in my hand and writing feverishly.
The product was this.
The Man in the story is the name you will see. He is mankind. He is a dying breed.
The product was this.
The Man in the story is the name you will see. He is mankind. He is a dying breed.
31 July 2008
28 July 2008
Birthright; Acursed Birthright
I would never mention anything as trivial as my own birthday if it didn't have a path to a more important Idea. Sitting there amidst a gathering of people that hadn't seen my home in such a while, marveling at the power of it. Like the heathens we are, giving ourselves to each other. I bleed from the mouth with the thought of it. It is a beautiful thing. I wished I had a visual summation of what I am talking about, but nothing could ever do the atmosphere justice. I endure and long to once again join them in celebration. Dwelling in the shadow of something brings the mixed emotions that are so often confused and muddied into a mess of anger and lament. You move away from the mountain, get out from under it's oppressive gaze and it's overbearing nature. You move hundreds of miles away from this force that has made itself a constant in your day to day presence in the world of the living and the dreams of the dead. Yet as far as you run, as much as you would like to think that the mountain shrinking into the distance in your rear view mirror is the last you will see of it, the people around you know. They know your relationship to the mountain. They judge you on how you love the mountain. They hate you because you remind them of the mountain that scorned them.
You plead, you cry, you scream.
I AM NOT THE MOUNTAIN!!
I AM MY OWN FORCE!!
I AM NOT THE MOUNTAIN!!
FIGHT ME BECAUSE YOU HATE ME!!
I AM NOT THE MOUNTAIN!!
KILL ME BECAUSE I INSPIRE THAT BURNING HATRED!!
I AM NOT THE MOUNTAIN!!
LOVE ME BECAUSE OF ME!!
I AM NOT THE MOUNTAIN!!
BE FUCKING HONEST WITH ME!!
I AM NOT THE MOUNTAIN!!
FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST!!
I AM NOT THE MOUNTAIN!!
I AM NOT THE MOUNTAIN!! I AM NOT THE MOUNTAIN!! I AM NOT THE MOUNTAIN!!
They want you to prove you are not the mountain. They want you to fight the mountain. They want you to forsake the mountain. NO!! I will not. The mountain is me. He is me and I am him. And we are not. So give me your blood and oil. I will give you my sweat and tears. Put a fire unto our flesh. I will die for you. I will fight for all of us. We are all the mountain.
All my blood for the sweetness of their laughter.
21 July 2008
15 July 2008
Lover, You Should've Come Over
Looking out the door I see the rain fall upon the funeral mourners
Parading in a wake of sad relations as their shoes fill up with water
And maybe Im too young to keep good love from going wrong
But tonight youre on my mind so you never know
When Im broken down and hungry for your love with no way to feed it
Where are you tonight, child you know how much I need it
Too young to hold on and too old to just break free and run
Sometimes a man gets carried away, when he feels like he should be having his fun
much too blind to see the damage hes done
Sometimes a man must awake to find that really, he has no-one
So Ill wait for you... and Ill burn
Will I ever see your sweet return
Oh will I ever learn
Oh lover, you shouldve come over
cause its not too late
Lonely is the room, the bed is made, the open window lets the rain in
Burning in the corner is the only one who dreams he had you with him
My body turns and yearns for a sleep that will never come
Its never over, my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder
Its never over, all my riches for her smiles when I slept so soft against her
Its never over, all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter
Its never over, shes the tear that hangs inside my soul forever
Well maybe Im just too young
To keep good love from going wrong
Oh... lover, you shouldve come over
cause its not too late
Well I feel too young to hold on
And Im much too old to break free and run
Too deaf, dumb, and blind to see the damage Ive done
Sweet lover, you shouldve come over
Oh, love well Im waiting for you
Lover, you shouldve come over
cause its not too late
11 July 2008
29 June 2008
24 June 2008
18 June 2008
16 June 2008
A Revolution; Lead by a Fox
Tomorrow, 17 June 2008, is the official launch of Firefox 3, a thing that promises better. With this beginning, they are also trying to set a record for most downloaded in one day. Go here, pledge your loyalty, and send a message to those trying to control the internet that it will never be done.
11 June 2008
Shitstorm
YOU BASTARD!!! Know, know, KNOW I HATE YOU!!! EVERYTHING...everything, EVERYTHING... Is WRONG!!! And I don't want to fight... Because I don't know what's WRONG or RIGHT But I'll do ANYTHING just to get some FUCKING sleep tonight... And I can't even EAT And I can't even FUCKING PISS!!! All I've been doing is thinking about GOD and DEATH INFINITY!!!!! Sleep little baby, don't you cry...little baby... | |
NOW You'll fucking listen to me...Everybody in my MOTHERFUCKING LIFE; All I've been looking for is an excuse to Feel this way... ...and now I know... HA! I KNOW!!! I'm in control of the infinite mind, And I control infinite Power When?!?!?!? EVERY BLACK MINUTE And self-control is something I've learned... But don't think I won't do it, Don't you EVER forget; If you want crazy... IF YOU WANT FUCKING CRAZY... I'll SHOW YOU HOW TO BE CRAZY FUCK YOU!!!! LADIES!!! All this time I thought you wanted me to be Like YOU ...you don't want me to BE LIKE YOU, Now you'll sing for ME! Baby!!! Little baby, little baby...YEAH!!! Aw, FUCK!!!! FUCK!!!!!!!! KNOW...KNOW...KNOW... I FUCKING HATE MYSELF EVERYTHING...EVERYTHING...EVERYTHING About this is FUCKD!!! Now it's SCIENCE!!! SCIENCE!!! SCIENCE!!! ...and... MATH!!! MATH!!! MATH!!! | |
03 June 2008
Passive Aggressive Defecation
And as I listen to them call him a cunt, I can't help but have my blood boil, my flesh crawl, and my white hot rage burn so brightly that it would blind them to look at it. Who knows what garbage was fed to them. They are wastes of skin and blood as it is, even more compounded by the unending filth that spews out of their mouths. Add to it an incomplete, yet self-satisfying, knowledge of events and people and you have a two headed fuck tard that makes snide, condescending remarks in regards to things that have NO FUCKING IDEA about, let alone any business speaking of.
And I ask the question, "Why do I care?"
Beyond the very immediate concern of having to endure this stream of atrocities, my own metal fortitude needed a good fumigation after listening to it for far too long, there is kin to think of. Not to mention, my idea of a good time does not include sitting and listening to the drunken emotional pain. Do not misinterpret me in saying that I belittle the sufferings of others. Genuine pain is genuine pain, no matter the source. But that right there is exactly the kicker. GENUINE PAIN! This self serving, self destructive, pity party, feel sorry for me bullshit that seems to be so popular now-a-days is beyond irritating. It used to be an annoyance, now it is straight up angering. It has its equivalent physical manifestation too.
I am surrounded by this and it is KILLING ME.
I wish I could live a tale like that of John Henry. I wish it were that simple. There is a physical opponent who represents all the things that I see. I am allowed to contest with this opponent, even to my own death. Yes, I wish that. Instead, a passive aggressive nature is forced upon us. Things get neutered out. We aren't allowed to be human. Repression is the name of the game. Repress all that makes you human, evil, animalistic. Repress it so that it only comes out when you are drunk. That way people will feel better because they can write it of in their minds as, "Oh he just had a few too many. He didn't mean it." That way you won't offend anyone and you can use that as an excuse later. "Hey sorry man. I was totally wasted." Dick. I don't drink around other people for this very reason. That excuse is not valid. One drop of alcohol never touched my lips. I meant everything I said. But you were drunk so hey, it doesn't matter. This is the formula. YOU ARE NOW SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE!! Congrats you fuck.
I will hammer so hard that it breaks my heart. I will lay down my hammer and die.
I wash myself in this and it disgusts me. I have to be funny and it saddens me. I live in this and it kills me.
What do you have to say now?
And I ask the question, "Why do I care?"
Beyond the very immediate concern of having to endure this stream of atrocities, my own metal fortitude needed a good fumigation after listening to it for far too long, there is kin to think of. Not to mention, my idea of a good time does not include sitting and listening to the drunken emotional pain. Do not misinterpret me in saying that I belittle the sufferings of others. Genuine pain is genuine pain, no matter the source. But that right there is exactly the kicker. GENUINE PAIN! This self serving, self destructive, pity party, feel sorry for me bullshit that seems to be so popular now-a-days is beyond irritating. It used to be an annoyance, now it is straight up angering. It has its equivalent physical manifestation too.
I am surrounded by this and it is KILLING ME.
I wish I could live a tale like that of John Henry. I wish it were that simple. There is a physical opponent who represents all the things that I see. I am allowed to contest with this opponent, even to my own death. Yes, I wish that. Instead, a passive aggressive nature is forced upon us. Things get neutered out. We aren't allowed to be human. Repression is the name of the game. Repress all that makes you human, evil, animalistic. Repress it so that it only comes out when you are drunk. That way people will feel better because they can write it of in their minds as, "Oh he just had a few too many. He didn't mean it." That way you won't offend anyone and you can use that as an excuse later. "Hey sorry man. I was totally wasted." Dick. I don't drink around other people for this very reason. That excuse is not valid. One drop of alcohol never touched my lips. I meant everything I said. But you were drunk so hey, it doesn't matter. This is the formula. YOU ARE NOW SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE!! Congrats you fuck.
I will hammer so hard that it breaks my heart. I will lay down my hammer and die.
I wash myself in this and it disgusts me. I have to be funny and it saddens me. I live in this and it kills me.
What do you have to say now?
22 May 2008
Can't Suppress
This was written about two others plus me by someone who, because of who she is, is unclouded. It was set to a tune and accompanied by a guitar that she played. The title was "The Lover, The Fighter, and The Prophet".
"And he had this way about
Seeing through.
Holding answers, breaking hate
Is how he lives so true.
Singing art and urging hope
Guiding me,
Giving me the want to sooth
Peoples crying plea.
Oh, my god
I hold him by the store
He says his last goodbye but I hold his neck once more.
Don't have fear
My throat begins to ache,
Striving more and more but he doesn't take his break.
He won't stop fighting through the haze...
Fighting through the haze.
Keeping up with other boys,
As a kid
Though he'd rather sit with thoughts,
As he laid and hid.
If you've ever seen his face
Calm and strong
And his reassuring eyes
That tell us we belong.
Oh my god,
Brother, hold your gladness
Don't think you've failed at all and release your darkest sadness
You have light
A light most don't posses
I try to keep it in but these things I can't suppress
When you come back I'll be smiling at the door
Smiling at the door."
It is evident to me, in knowing the author of this song as well as I do, how much heart is in this song. She believes more than most. She wants to believe even more than that. Doubt and insecurity plague her. What she doesn't know is that all the things that she sees in us are reflected in her. No, not reflected. They burn in her. She is still trying to put the pieces together just like the rest of us. Goddamn, like the rest of us. They pull at her, every direction. She doesn't know where to go. Looking to us to be examples, and what shitty examples to look to. She thinks she needs us. We need her. She has her own solidarity that will be yearned for in these coming times. The world will look to her and how will she look back? Whatever she chooses, I will be the fighter. I will fight. For her, for us. For the flame we protect. I will fight. This is what she needs to understand. He is her prophet, he is her lover, and I am her fighter.
It rips through me every time.
Keep your eyes up.
"And he had this way about
Seeing through.
Holding answers, breaking hate
Is how he lives so true.
Singing art and urging hope
Guiding me,
Giving me the want to sooth
Peoples crying plea.
Oh, my god
I hold him by the store
He says his last goodbye but I hold his neck once more.
Don't have fear
My throat begins to ache,
Striving more and more but he doesn't take his break.
He won't stop fighting through the haze...
Fighting through the haze.
Keeping up with other boys,
As a kid
Though he'd rather sit with thoughts,
As he laid and hid.
If you've ever seen his face
Calm and strong
And his reassuring eyes
That tell us we belong.
Oh my god,
Brother, hold your gladness
Don't think you've failed at all and release your darkest sadness
You have light
A light most don't posses
I try to keep it in but these things I can't suppress
When you come back I'll be smiling at the door
Smiling at the door."
It is evident to me, in knowing the author of this song as well as I do, how much heart is in this song. She believes more than most. She wants to believe even more than that. Doubt and insecurity plague her. What she doesn't know is that all the things that she sees in us are reflected in her. No, not reflected. They burn in her. She is still trying to put the pieces together just like the rest of us. Goddamn, like the rest of us. They pull at her, every direction. She doesn't know where to go. Looking to us to be examples, and what shitty examples to look to. She thinks she needs us. We need her. She has her own solidarity that will be yearned for in these coming times. The world will look to her and how will she look back? Whatever she chooses, I will be the fighter. I will fight. For her, for us. For the flame we protect. I will fight. This is what she needs to understand. He is her prophet, he is her lover, and I am her fighter.
It rips through me every time.
Keep your eyes up.
15 May 2008
12 May 2008
A Match for Twenty Blue Devils
My face is pulp. My guts is pierced. Best shape I've been in.
My feeling of apprehension has settled into the pit of my stomach and won't let go. The temporary worry of certain events masked the true cold feeling, but now that it has passed, I return to my former mentioned ship. I stand and look out over the waters. Days from land, I know a storm is coming. A bad storm. I am not alone on this ship, but I don't know who is with me. I don't know if it will kill us, but it will certainly make us stronger. This is not told to me by this dream, this feeling. All that is revealed is the impending doom.
I still can't sleep.
I know we have made this storm. We have brought it on ourselves. I feel like hurtling death at those on this boat. To quote a greater man than I, "I look at people and I see nothing worth liking."
My work continues on various projects. I wish I could get my hands on a lathe again. I am able to focus when working a piece of wood like that.
I think I want this. I want to know this. I know I am fucking terrified.
My feeling of apprehension has settled into the pit of my stomach and won't let go. The temporary worry of certain events masked the true cold feeling, but now that it has passed, I return to my former mentioned ship. I stand and look out over the waters. Days from land, I know a storm is coming. A bad storm. I am not alone on this ship, but I don't know who is with me. I don't know if it will kill us, but it will certainly make us stronger. This is not told to me by this dream, this feeling. All that is revealed is the impending doom.
I still can't sleep.
I know we have made this storm. We have brought it on ourselves. I feel like hurtling death at those on this boat. To quote a greater man than I, "I look at people and I see nothing worth liking."
My work continues on various projects. I wish I could get my hands on a lathe again. I am able to focus when working a piece of wood like that.
I think I want this. I want to know this. I know I am fucking terrified.
08 May 2008
07 May 2008
The Departure
She is leavin.
This I know.
But will I sleep, my gut says no.
She travels now, seeing what she wants to see. For the next 43 days she will tour all that she has learned. I hope she achieves enlightenment.
You can view her travels here.
I look to myself now and question. Am I the warrior?
So familiar and overwhelmingly warm
This one, this form I hold now.
Embracing you, this reality here,
This one, this form I hold now, so
Wide eyed and hopeful.
Wide eyed and hopefully wild.
We barely remember what came before this precious moment,
Choosing to be here right now. Hold on, stay inside...
This body holding me, reminding me that I am not alone in
This body makes me feel eternal. All this pain is an illusion.
We barely remember who or what came before this precious moment,
We are choosing to be here right now. Hold on, stay inside
This holy reality, this holy experience.
Choosing to be here in
This body. This body holding me. Be my reminder here that I am not alone in
This body, this body holding me, feeling eternal
All this pain is an illusion.
Alive, I
In this holy reality, in this holy experience. Choosing to be here in
This body. This body holding me. Be my reminder here that I am not alone in
This body, this body holding me, feeling eternal
All this pain is an illusion.
Twirling round with this familiar parable.
Spinning, weaving round each new experience.
Recognize this as a holy gift and celebrate this chance to be alive and breathing.
This body holding me reminds me of my own mortality.
Embrace this moment. Remember. We are eternal.
All this pain is an illusion.
This I know.
But will I sleep, my gut says no.
She travels now, seeing what she wants to see. For the next 43 days she will tour all that she has learned. I hope she achieves enlightenment.
You can view her travels here.
I look to myself now and question. Am I the warrior?
So familiar and overwhelmingly warm
This one, this form I hold now.
Embracing you, this reality here,
This one, this form I hold now, so
Wide eyed and hopeful.
Wide eyed and hopefully wild.
We barely remember what came before this precious moment,
Choosing to be here right now. Hold on, stay inside...
This body holding me, reminding me that I am not alone in
This body makes me feel eternal. All this pain is an illusion.
We barely remember who or what came before this precious moment,
We are choosing to be here right now. Hold on, stay inside
This holy reality, this holy experience.
Choosing to be here in
This body. This body holding me. Be my reminder here that I am not alone in
This body, this body holding me, feeling eternal
All this pain is an illusion.
Alive, I
In this holy reality, in this holy experience. Choosing to be here in
This body. This body holding me. Be my reminder here that I am not alone in
This body, this body holding me, feeling eternal
All this pain is an illusion.
Twirling round with this familiar parable.
Spinning, weaving round each new experience.
Recognize this as a holy gift and celebrate this chance to be alive and breathing.
This body holding me reminds me of my own mortality.
Embrace this moment. Remember. We are eternal.
All this pain is an illusion.
01 May 2008
A Passage of Time
Give it some Thought.
Through some weird vortex of time I have neglected many things that demand my attention. Namely this and my project. I have been pouring myself into two other projects that I think will see a wonderful conclusion. GUTS is one of those two and it has blossomed more than I could have imagined. You will all see when it is done.
Keep your eyes up.
29 March 2008
Sun in my Mouth
I will crucify the object of our fascination to reveal the true nature of what you have canonized.It is finished. I have spilt my blood upon the cross.
This was not the finished product. There was more blood and the following statement was nailed to the bottom.
"First and foremost I must say that this is not limited to nor promoting any one religion. The symbols used are present because they are symbols. The convenience of these images should not limit the message to anything less than all of humanity.
In times of false canonization and undeserved praise, people are constantly searching for subjects to replace that which has been held as holy for generations. These replacements come from all places and none have the right to be elevated to this god like level. These things are exactly that. Things. Empty, vapid, meaningless. They offer false comfort and no value. They lack the key ingredient that makes things worth the investment of humanity. They can not even begin to fill the place of that which came before it.
This happens in all areas of human life. Expression, religion, and thought. People have lost sight of what truly matters. The road is high, but our eyes are all on the ground.
-Karl"
Follow the white rabbit to see more of it.
In other news, I have been playing this religiously because it is exactly that. If you haven't tried this for yourself yet, then you are a heathen and will be punished accordingly. For those who have partaken in the glory that is Vegas 2 then you know exactly what it is I am talking about. I can't go a day without at least indulging my sick sense of humor and glory by killing things in this game.
14 March 2008
Long, Hard Grind
Goddamn.
On a different note much has come to my attention that needs addressing. I am still struggling with my own projects, trying to get them out. The art don't give it to you. The art don't give you what it is that you thought you wanted. It is much more difficult to get me agree with me on things that are coming out of my head. Even more difficult to convince myself that I am doing the right thing. But even as that last sentence comes out I question it. What is right for me anyway? Who is the dictator of right and wrong for each of us? Is it inside? What is it? Maybe if I can find it inside I can cut it out and get rid of it. Maybe then, when that right and wrong judge is gone, I will feel at least a little more freedom. Maybe I can move a little better, act on my feelings, and not feel like I am wasting time. When I get asked, "What am I doing?" I won't feel like kicking myself in the balls.
I have no answer for these questions when asked of me, and that is the biggest insult.
And even then I ask why I feel so lost. I know what I am doing is right. I know how it feels to be in the moment of fascination. I know that what I am saying through my actions is something that must be said by someone, somewhere. I have to believe that. The real question is how do those of us who think in these ways live during a time when the pendulum of pop culture is swing back to its other extreme? We are in a time of disillusions and infidelities. People walk with their heads down and eyes closed, avoiding any kind of absolution. The pendulum has begun its return to the other side when we will return to a mass awaking of the senses and a rekindling of the mind. Returning to my question though, how do we live in the mid swing? Those of us born in a time like this where everything is so bland and we have no heroes of our own. This is what leads to a mystification of the past and a fear of the future. But I say we grin and bear it. We take it on the chin and await a time to come. I believe I will see the human spirit renewed. I know of key players who have the capacity to do it. It may get worse before it gets better, but the point is it will get better. We are being forged by fire. That is the truth. Fire licks at our flesh and for what reason? TO TEACH US! Learn from this fire so that we can cut the pendulum and free ourselves from the back and forth nature of our world, return to Eden, and experience real life.
What's out there isn't real. What is real is what is in your body, in your mind, and in your soul.
Keep your eyes up.
On a different note much has come to my attention that needs addressing. I am still struggling with my own projects, trying to get them out. The art don't give it to you. The art don't give you what it is that you thought you wanted. It is much more difficult to get me agree with me on things that are coming out of my head. Even more difficult to convince myself that I am doing the right thing. But even as that last sentence comes out I question it. What is right for me anyway? Who is the dictator of right and wrong for each of us? Is it inside? What is it? Maybe if I can find it inside I can cut it out and get rid of it. Maybe then, when that right and wrong judge is gone, I will feel at least a little more freedom. Maybe I can move a little better, act on my feelings, and not feel like I am wasting time. When I get asked, "What am I doing?" I won't feel like kicking myself in the balls.
I have no answer for these questions when asked of me, and that is the biggest insult.
And even then I ask why I feel so lost. I know what I am doing is right. I know how it feels to be in the moment of fascination. I know that what I am saying through my actions is something that must be said by someone, somewhere. I have to believe that. The real question is how do those of us who think in these ways live during a time when the pendulum of pop culture is swing back to its other extreme? We are in a time of disillusions and infidelities. People walk with their heads down and eyes closed, avoiding any kind of absolution. The pendulum has begun its return to the other side when we will return to a mass awaking of the senses and a rekindling of the mind. Returning to my question though, how do we live in the mid swing? Those of us born in a time like this where everything is so bland and we have no heroes of our own. This is what leads to a mystification of the past and a fear of the future. But I say we grin and bear it. We take it on the chin and await a time to come. I believe I will see the human spirit renewed. I know of key players who have the capacity to do it. It may get worse before it gets better, but the point is it will get better. We are being forged by fire. That is the truth. Fire licks at our flesh and for what reason? TO TEACH US! Learn from this fire so that we can cut the pendulum and free ourselves from the back and forth nature of our world, return to Eden, and experience real life.
What's out there isn't real. What is real is what is in your body, in your mind, and in your soul.
Keep your eyes up.
21 February 2008
A New Wave
There is a new storm brewing and it will hit with the force of 9/11 times a billion.
One of my partners in crime and I have been building an idea for a while now. It seems that it is coming to fruition and soon GUTS will be unleashed upon the world. We are hoping to turn this into an enterprise that will become profitable in time, but for now it will serve almost the same purpose as this does, except in a more commercial way. The layout should be done in a short order and the process will begin. Let's hope I can stay sane until then.
On another, much more frustrating note, I had a conversation recently that seemed to put a finger on one of the biggest problems I have with people now-a-days. It seems that everyone is so intent on denying their need for the past and proving that the future doesn't need what was passed down to us. It feels like people are purposefully infecting the cow, only to mercy kill it later. What purpose does this serve? Nothing except an attempt at the destruction of their birthright. You can't eat the meat. Diseased cows give diseased meat. The only option you have is to burn it. And that is the problem. Everyone is rushing toward burning what our fathers gave us.
Keep your eyes up.
One of my partners in crime and I have been building an idea for a while now. It seems that it is coming to fruition and soon GUTS will be unleashed upon the world. We are hoping to turn this into an enterprise that will become profitable in time, but for now it will serve almost the same purpose as this does, except in a more commercial way. The layout should be done in a short order and the process will begin. Let's hope I can stay sane until then.
On another, much more frustrating note, I had a conversation recently that seemed to put a finger on one of the biggest problems I have with people now-a-days. It seems that everyone is so intent on denying their need for the past and proving that the future doesn't need what was passed down to us. It feels like people are purposefully infecting the cow, only to mercy kill it later. What purpose does this serve? Nothing except an attempt at the destruction of their birthright. You can't eat the meat. Diseased cows give diseased meat. The only option you have is to burn it. And that is the problem. Everyone is rushing toward burning what our fathers gave us.
Keep your eyes up.
05 February 2008
Momentum
After spending what feels like a month out in the middle of nowhere, it makes me hate people so much more.
It makes me hate what is happening to my homeland. In part it fuels the fire and at the same time it drags me lower than I have ever felt in my entire life. Being forced to drive past it every morning, things looking like a bomb went off, seeing the new FUCKING WALMART (FIVE MINUTES AWAY FROM ANOTHER FUCKING WALMART), COSTCO, BASSPROSHOP, DILLARDS, AND SCORES OF OTHER WHOREHOUSES AND BROTHELS BEING BUILT ON THE GRAVES OF MY FATHERS! If that wasn't enough we now have paved roads and a plethora of new traffic lights just to make it harder to get in and out of my home. Isn't it grand? Goddamn I love America.
People like to blame the corporations and such, but I place all of my blame with the people. They let this happen. Places like Walmart feed off of the laziness of people. Their rational is that if, while driving, Mr. and Mrs. John Q. Fuckface encounter another store before Walmart they will go there instead. SOOOOOO, BING! A light goes off in the head of the Walmart exec. Lets build one closer!
The majority of the population is blinded by the silver spoon that is being shoved down their throats.
And lets not forget the people that actually WANT a Walmart closer. 'Cause they hate having to drive the EXTRA FIVE FUCKING MILES!! THEIR S U FUCKING V'S EAT UP SO MUCH GODDAMN GAS THAT THEY CAN'T MAKE IT THAT FAR!
This is what we have built and ain't it grand? There will be blood when I make my last stand.
It makes me hate what is happening to my homeland. In part it fuels the fire and at the same time it drags me lower than I have ever felt in my entire life. Being forced to drive past it every morning, things looking like a bomb went off, seeing the new FUCKING WALMART (FIVE MINUTES AWAY FROM ANOTHER FUCKING WALMART), COSTCO, BASSPROSHOP, DILLARDS, AND SCORES OF OTHER WHOREHOUSES AND BROTHELS BEING BUILT ON THE GRAVES OF MY FATHERS! If that wasn't enough we now have paved roads and a plethora of new traffic lights just to make it harder to get in and out of my home. Isn't it grand? Goddamn I love America.
People like to blame the corporations and such, but I place all of my blame with the people. They let this happen. Places like Walmart feed off of the laziness of people. Their rational is that if, while driving, Mr. and Mrs. John Q. Fuckface encounter another store before Walmart they will go there instead. SOOOOOO, BING! A light goes off in the head of the Walmart exec. Lets build one closer!
The majority of the population is blinded by the silver spoon that is being shoved down their throats.
And lets not forget the people that actually WANT a Walmart closer. 'Cause they hate having to drive the EXTRA FIVE FUCKING MILES!! THEIR S U FUCKING V'S EAT UP SO MUCH GODDAMN GAS THAT THEY CAN'T MAKE IT THAT FAR!
This is what we have built and ain't it grand? There will be blood when I make my last stand.
29 January 2008
The Paramount of Frustration
The following is a true story. The names of the individuals involved have been changed to protect their identity.
While a routine BFA (Bachelor of Fine Arts - University un-named) space check, a student stands patiently by his artwork while three instructors examine it. His friend who shares the space with him stands off to the side, awaiting his turn. Two of instructors give the usual and expected comments, technique, form, and such. The third is silent for a while, observing the work. When there is a quiet in the conversation the third instructor speaks up.
"But it's not funny," says the woman.
The student chuckles a little, thinking this is a joke, only to discover, much to his horror, that this woman is serious.
"Well it's not supposed to be funny. This body of work has a very serious message", replies the student.
"People don't like it when it's not funny. It needs to be funny," spouts the instructor.
To this the student had no response. His friend was just about tearing his hair out in anger as the poor student stood dumbfounded. The other two instructors continued on with a few more comments and then they moved on.
This story, ladies and gentlemen, is the pinnacle of what I am fighting on a daily basis. It is, for the most part, an uphill battle. Comedy is the new cop out for art. If we are presented as funny, we won't offend anyone. We won't come across as "heavy". We won't depress anyone. I can not stress it enough that seriousness is what we need right now. Comedy is killing us. There are things that need to be said and those people need to be taken seriously. No more laughing it off. Suck it up and face the goddamn music.
While a routine BFA (Bachelor of Fine Arts - University un-named) space check, a student stands patiently by his artwork while three instructors examine it. His friend who shares the space with him stands off to the side, awaiting his turn. Two of instructors give the usual and expected comments, technique, form, and such. The third is silent for a while, observing the work. When there is a quiet in the conversation the third instructor speaks up.
"But it's not funny," says the woman.
The student chuckles a little, thinking this is a joke, only to discover, much to his horror, that this woman is serious.
"Well it's not supposed to be funny. This body of work has a very serious message", replies the student.
"People don't like it when it's not funny. It needs to be funny," spouts the instructor.
To this the student had no response. His friend was just about tearing his hair out in anger as the poor student stood dumbfounded. The other two instructors continued on with a few more comments and then they moved on.
This story, ladies and gentlemen, is the pinnacle of what I am fighting on a daily basis. It is, for the most part, an uphill battle. Comedy is the new cop out for art. If we are presented as funny, we won't offend anyone. We won't come across as "heavy". We won't depress anyone. I can not stress it enough that seriousness is what we need right now. Comedy is killing us. There are things that need to be said and those people need to be taken seriously. No more laughing it off. Suck it up and face the goddamn music.
14 January 2008
Locks of Love and Rage
The discarding of emotion to achieve the objectivity that is so craved now-a-days. We can't get involved or we won't see clearly. We need to remove our humanity in order to find what is really art, or whatever. Insert whatever you will here. We need to feel the pain. We need to face the fear. We can't forget ourselves. I can't leave that behind. I want to cry when I look at a painting. I want to feel pain. Real pain. The kind of pain that makes you spit. I want to feel it. I can't leave all that behind. I love blood in my mouth. Blood on the ground. Mine. Yours. Ours. As long as it flows.
You should try it sometime. Scourge yourself. You will feel more alive than ever. People now don't know what pain is. They don't what real pain is. The have lost the joys of solitude. The feeling of looking up with nothing around you. This is all lost on people. Find it for yourself. You will know when it hits you.
Keep your eyes up.
You should try it sometime. Scourge yourself. You will feel more alive than ever. People now don't know what pain is. They don't what real pain is. The have lost the joys of solitude. The feeling of looking up with nothing around you. This is all lost on people. Find it for yourself. You will know when it hits you.
Keep your eyes up.
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