Saturday, August 8, 2009

Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Notes on The Nice-to-Know-You Scene from Our Lives

This is the scene where all the living people (anyone you can think of) go around and introduce themselves and congratulate each other on being here and are overwhelmed by the realization that everyone really is here. Amazing! And because everyone is here, the atmosphere is utterly awash with sound, just one big roar of unity. Hey you there! And you! You made it! Isn't this something? LITERALLY EVERYONE IS HERE!

And then we split back into God's Little Shards and resurface in our own experience and wait again for the day when we will all fall into that wall of sound and (wide-eyed and willingly) tell each other "what a fucking universe this is!"

But until then I will pretend this language is effective and these words do justice, pretend you are listening and pretend what I say is worth saying. I will pretend I am you, a piece of gravel washed up on the shore of Infinity with a mouth moving like a motherfucker from Hell.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

some color and image to break up the old blog entries

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

A Brief Teaser On a Current Subject, Namely: The Unfolding Saga of The Space Natives

Fed up goddamnit with The Way The World Works the Natives jet fueled their tepees taking several cultures with them and set sail for the stars, the abyss promising to be something they hadn't seen before (at least). As the buffalo hide flapped and led the cherry flame sparks through the dark, a pattern of burn time appeared and receded for those left to rot on earth. The head of the fleet, Dr. Sick Bird, sent communication to all Tribal affiliates announcing the commencement of the Concerto del Muerto promptly after burn time. The flames were turned back inside the vessels and the speakers spit the first cello quakes. It was during these first resonant quivers, low-frequency tepee vibrations absorbed into the pocket of space, when the team lost complete contact with the cancer that was and is still indeed, our world, the earth, home of the Whopper.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Original Idea

The artist in search of an original idea will drive himself to the brink of madness in one form or another. The artist in search of an original idea is not alone, there is collective searching. There are degrees of failure. There is some perceived success. And there is really only the outline of the idea in the head carving a new path once again. The artist in search of an original idea has forgotten everything. And has remembered too much the language of false knowledge. the artist in search of an original idea has forgotten the stacks of drawings paid for by weight in poorer countries around the world. The artist in search of an original idea is fed up with those around him because they are cruising in their rut. They have carved their space and are happy or busy of some sloppy combination of the two. The original idea is always there. The artist, by looking, looks away. The world kills those alone. Be together & live forever.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

Friday, August 25, 2006 (perfect dwelling)

Amen brother be back

Some things we say to our parents just to be angry mad little bitches and shock the hell out of them so as to prove like we really care. We don't. For example, when I get really really really upset upset enough to explode into toxic ectoplasm I say things that are the type of things that people say you should regret having said later on. Like, I hate you. Or, I hope you die. Or, I want to stab music I'm so flippin pissed. So.

When you feel like this do as I do. Eat crappy food and get a stomachache. The next morning when you wake and can't take a crap think of how guilty you feel for having started this whole destructive downward spiral. {It's not really your fault. You're not God's right thumb. You didn't ask to be born. What the fuck do people want from you anyway, right?} Then make some basmati rice. Eat it with the most colorful vegetables you can find. Do this for several days and soon you will be back to normal.

This story has nothing to do with anything that I feel comfortable publishing on this internet site or anywhere for that matter. It is pretty childish and sad. When I started this little ditty I thought I would end up with some profound insight into the offspring dilemma or the parent/offspring clusterfuck. This did absolutely nothing for that argument or for the fact that I should really be above this. That being said, I think I should spend the rest of the night drinking because obviously my brain is already fried.