The Randall J. Supplement featuring Candid Avenue

the day before yesterday i planned yesterday

2007-11-20T08:57:00.000-08:00

Hey wow. This is here. I have enough places to put shit, so this is ancient history. goto: www.myspace.com/stokesaster

musicals musicals musically

2007-03-01T15:16:00.000-08:00

Theres a little can of golf pencils here. If you push too hard on the lead to write, the piece of lead pops out the end. How shameful for a pencil! It has disgraced its tree ancestors, that is, if it's wood and not plastic.

It's crazy how you'd drop everything for some people and it's as if those people are written on a piece of parchment thats inside a safe inside your head that nobody else could get to or possibly crack. Oh is that so crazy? I don't think yes I know.

I'm just now noticing the carpet in here. It's ugly, but thats the price I pay for being mindful. Haha, library carpeting.

Remember boys and girls, Life Begins at the Hop, and say that you came to see Stokes' Aster.

getting used to getting on

2007-01-07T03:17:00.000-08:00

dream
"awakened from sleeping blithely some morning, i am frantically but weakly pawed at by an unfamiliar person who appears to be wordlessly gouding me to take the whole of the ocean into my mouth. i remain tranquil but unconfident in my ability to do so, considering the person's request before ever wondering how i got to be standing on a shore in the first place or asleep standing up in the first first place. the person relents and i feel the standing sleep again, not before i notice the sun dunks itself into the ocean, creating a massive sizzle and steam, only to raise itself into the sky afterward. I am able to look directly; the feeling occurs to me that it is amused. i feel that it is a good thing that i saw this. i go to sleep and it is as if i am waking up, facing the opposite direction. two men in tuxedos are standing in front of me and one asks if i know when i'm expected. i tell them i forgot my cuffs. the other man says thats okay. the room has marble floors that are very very white, i notice this in particular. i want to say something about how white and shiny they are to the men but i figure that they probably already knew this."

my life is pretty varied and weird right now and its kinda hard to explain and stuff. i guess a big explanation will come soon of the all of it. i'm still the person i only know in a fleeting way, like the past while has been one, long handshake with myself. i'd make the kind of comment like, "oh, didnt he die in a car wreck a few years ago?" or "isn't he gay now?". honestly, i stretch past the truth here. hyperbole is the pulled part of the rubber band that snaps the perspective back to normal. i guess modesty or understatement would be the opposite of that, but i digress. it seems that after a real visual and personal surprise today (one of an unexpected guest) that i've been unprepared for the shock of the change and chaos that takes place outside of the little regimen i've created for myself; the little mental hamster wheel. martha told me that i looked like i had just seen a ghost! i really couldnt react properly, and i was genuinely surprised and quite happy to see her. That falls in contrast, or i should say, comparison with the sort of mental surprises and challenges i've set for myself as of late. creative, mostly, with a bit of a romantic twist on things as well. the former has found me doing of lot of work in a short time on the guitar and voice, and a lot of the sort of "knife-work" or detailing found its place to be done. final assembly, you could call it. we'll stop at spit-shine--hasn't come up yet.

now as for the latter, i've found myself channeling Cyril St. John "The Escapist" here in finding a way to be unstuck and move on with my stalled state of affairs with the fairer sex. they, however, cannot at all be compared to the paper bags which our hero leaps out of through feats of will and skill. it's been difficult, and i've found--in a manner of speaking--that instead of finding the way, i've just to let it reveal itself to me. that is, the way free from the weight of that volume of history. it just simply must happen, and no amount of force will make it so. it will happen, and those times when just the right person has said the right things to you at the right time, and that first realization takes place, the old skin starts to feel to shed. these times don't scrape away at the surface of those old memories of the ones before..but sort of revarnish it in a new, ever more complex spiderweb of wood grain. uh..i'll put it another way: it's like getting stung by a bee, really hard, except it feels..good. i guess you could say i've been stung once again, and thank god.

a first look ahead for implications

2006-12-22T04:52:00.000-08:00

It's 55 degrees here. I am sitting on a ludicrously oversized couch in my parent's living room. There's a tv show on right now that is telling people how not to become a fatass this christmastime. Keebs is in his spot..which I think he chose because he can see both the front and back doors at once, to keep good watch on whats going on. Nabisco, on the other hand, spent a good half an hour last night walking on me..she's light, but somehow she just digs those paws right in..

I want a ukelele, they're like cute little guitars that sound really neat and are impossible to take seriously. I'd play it and do nothing but sing in a falsetto voice about clouds or bugs or something. Or, about how great my woman is. Cause, you know, she's pretty cool, to say the least.

I'm actually going to eat breakfast today! Away.

unusable signal

2006-11-29T01:51:00.000-08:00

I just realized how late it was just before I started typing right now, but that's not important. It seems that this is a common theme for me as of late. The unimportant bullshit that I have to deal with is dealt with in a way that really underscores it's unimportance, and the things that I take really seriously are getting some more sway. This sounds like a really simple axiom, but it's actually made me a little more effective in focusing on things I really want to do. For example, I can't wait to stop typing this and go and try and write and practice. My job feels really stupid, and I do it in a way that treats it as so (while still doing decent work) but the money I get from it isn't. Somebody who was a jerk or short with me on any given day rolls right off my back as well, and I'm trying not to fall into sentimentality when i'm around people I want to be around..cause i do appreciate every minute I get with them.

My life just needs to be a little bit lighter, and it's getting there. We'll see. Ever the cautious optimist.

Now it's time to go put in the work I really want to do. Down to the secret lair where my giant ruby-powered laser beam, my henchmen, and all my science shit is.

the old plantation has been abandoned

2006-11-15T19:25:00.000-08:00

So Jon and I are going to Indy for a couple of days next week. After talking to the folks, we don't have enough time to make it all the way to Atlanta, and since they apparently know the former city fairly well, we're going to meet them there. I still have to work the rest of the weekend, which is okay i suppose. Tommorow we're playing at the Dorff. So when the chain of people comes up to us and asks if we're playing, we'll get to say yes, as well as get free drink. Speaking of which, I have a favorite beer there now, the vanilla porter. Good stuff!

I'm once again pursuing somebody, and, amazingly, my efforts may be working. Next comes the phase where we see how crazy each other are, and if it's at an acceptable level. Hehe.

Now its time to get something to eat cause my stomach starting to tell me to. My fingers need a break. I also need new guitar strings. Right now it would be nice to smoke a joint, I havent done that in a while.

BTW, i'm listening to this great Minus 5 record. Edit: now its Spoon

talking out of both sides of my mouth

2006-10-22T00:47:00.000-07:00

I feel like a fool, but a fool who at least in his own mind knows what he's doing.
I don't know how much sense that makes.

Sometimes i think the only time i get inspired is immdiately after i look at people and things and not feel a goddamn thing when i'm supposed to. That's me, Mr. Delayed Reaction. I'm working on that.

I've got a Master Plan.
There are some contingencies worked in. I'm wondering what it would be like to have an alias or a mid 60s Karmann Ghia. I'm also wondering how different my life will be after i'm through with my return to academia. I'm wondering if some big things ever stay gone and if i'm crazy for being so attached to the love-hate relationship i have with reverie.

randomness (is an overused word)

stop not caring and just not care. peel the earth's skin. embrace the ugly, raw wound of the condition of being human and love every rotten thing that oozes out when you drag your fingernail across it. don't understand. maintain your sense of ironic detachment from the subjects of the freak kingdom. the real freaks, the squares. misquote me, but misquote me with a modicum of respect.
still feel gone.

underpaid and oversexed and under something else

2006-10-09T11:58:00.000-07:00

well, whatever, but i just putting this here as a placeholder so i'll come back and actually put something worthwhile here. i've been an internet slacker cause i've got some emails to write and this blog to update. will do tonight. ciao.

a film i've seen way too many times

2006-09-21T02:39:00.000-07:00

Our trip was different. It was to be a classic affirmation of everything right and true in the national character; a gross, physical salute to the fantanstic possiblities of life in this country. But only for those with true grit..
..and we are chock full of that.

c'mon, repo records.. buy my music! i still promise not to sue you for not paying me in a year! oh well.

buy my antifreeze

2006-09-12T02:40:00.000-07:00

i've got some homework to do at 530am, which is now almost passed.

am i Rosencrantz or Guildenstern? does it really matter?

it either doesn't matter one bit, or it's the most important thing in the world.

Oh man. Time for another over-sugared pot o' coffee to set the fingers to not quite stable and the mind to quite sharp.

right now at this moment, for me to see you, if you were somebody i knew, you'd have to jump right in front of my face or i'd have to bump into you. this be told, i still believe in fate. oh well. pressed pressing press on. i'll be talking to you in a fortnight.

idle writing

2006-09-07T03:24:00.000-07:00

as you drag your finger along the skyline. the car stops. Your finger doesn't,
and only slows to scale the tallest buildings. i remember once you told me you used to do this when you were a kid. i can imagine. something as simple as this taken with detached seriousness as the taskmaster of your own little world.
i was having one of my introspective freeze ups again. the kind that put me through a garage door in my dad's car at 15, the kind that makes me look like i have my head pumped full of helium, and the kind that has made me almost incapable of imagining myself in love from here on. This is all after the fact.
--

does it take a hour to get downtown
does it really
does it cost that much to trim the trees along the side of the road
is it so hard to paint a straight line down the center
is it so difficult
is it so hard to stay where you're from
can't we give any less than we are?
can't we care less
can't we bury them all somewhere
is there more we shouldnt know about
is there more choice in coffee
is there more to keep our children from
is there a more desparate place than ours
does it kill us so slowly
does it have to hurt
does it mean we have to go
what would the neighborhood say
who'll be cleaning up
when the parade is over get on board
we're easily fading faster than ever before
-

you're two steps back from the ledge and i'm watching tv in a different time zone

there's some ice in the freezer

2006-08-08T23:13:00.000-07:00

I've tied another tournequet and the dead end just fell right off.

doing okay. and okay is okay enough for me right now.

what's not my style

2006-06-18T22:04:00.000-07:00

You Belong in Dublin

Friendly and down to earth, you want to enjoy Europe without snobbery or pretensions.

You're the perfect person to go wild on a pub crawl... or enjoy a quiet bike ride through the old part of town.

What European City Do You Belong In?

I'd prefer somewhere in France or Germany or Holland or something..and sometimes i enjoy snobbery and pretentions, because they are bad traits of mine.

So I went and experienced some true Americana this weekend. It was fun, and not just the parts where I had to try to remember the chords and words to as many Neil Young songs as I could. Heehee. Got to spend some time with my parents, and it was good to see them as always. They are the bestest.

I've noticed my hair is longer again. Hmmm..

For my birthday, I was brought some balloons at work. One said, "Get Well", and another said "It's a Boy!". They thought it was pretty funny. I did too, after a little while..

I'm going to repeatedly lift pieces of steel while listening to music for a while now.

some startup capital and fear and loathing in someplace

2006-06-11T22:45:00.000-07:00

Long time no see. New place to live, new other stuff, new money, no internet for a while now, piracy, drinking coffee as a habit, missing people, bowling, new kitten soon.

Birthday soon, and i've got to work on it. Drat..or better, Shazbot!

Reel to reels..digital transfers and "Gus", a Martin 12 string from sometime in the 60s.

with a lilt

2006-05-22T00:05:00.000-07:00

busy, alone, refuted, unrequited, applauded, rescheduled. focused, alone again, kept at arm's length, semicolon, semicolon. lied to, lied to, okay, forget it. guitar playing, guitar not playing. unlucky, unlucky. some people are amazed that i'm the way i am. i don't understand. cold, but the sun feels pretty nice. polite. politely telling me that you aren't interested anymore. knowing the real reason. half-smiling. whats done doesnt compare to the thing i compare them all to. a mass of people so tiring while they shouldnt be but at the same time giving me thier energy when they shouldnt. i feel its even.
vanilla porter that still tasted like beer. now thats pretty neat.

what's a great idea?

2006-05-17T19:03:00.000-07:00

I had a great idea for a blog post last night, but didnt have time to write it. I've since forgotten it. Damn it! I had today off from everything, which was nice, so i just used my 'me' time to watch the movie "Die Hard" and play guitar, with my tape recorder in front of me. I think when i go back to listen to ideas, i'm gonna hear gunshots or breaking glass. I got a call from a number with a weird area code today at about 5pm. I was sleeping..they didnt leave a message. I called it back about half an hour ago, but to no avail. Hmmm. I wonder.

grasping at a gathering dusk

2006-05-12T02:38:00.000-07:00

Friday. It's a good day to be a Friday. Today, i'm gonna set myself on "MED" and just see how everything turns out. Thats medium by the way. Probably nothing will get done. Oh well, let's see. At least i'm playing tonight.

theres a world outside us right now screaming in tribute but merely managing a serene snowfall. that's seen our kind before, but all it can do is fall.
and what love does to us is everything thats drowned in us

not until it stops snowing let the last minute of this time we have
last until you let me go stumbling with
so much reckless grace

the time thats passed has made me stretch the meaning of words but the intention remains. silence is redefined but remains the greatest of glorious obstacles but
one i still know you within and what love does to us is everything that we've been left to die with.

not until it stops snowing let the last minute of this time we have
last until you let me go not until it stops snowing.

coda:
i'd still like to think in the frozen air of the highway
that my arms were reaching out to you. but theyre cold fingers
shot into the night whispering a hushed exhaust of prayer
that my own hands wrought while still they lied motionless.

"Something" by George Harrison

2006-05-10T01:41:00.000-07:00

Carl Sagan, in regards to the last picture of Earth taken by the Voyager spacecraft, 4 billion miles away:
We succeeded in taking that picture [from deep space], and, if you look at it, you see a dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever lived, lived out their lives. The aggregate of all our joys and sufferings, thousands of confident religions, ideologies and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilizations, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every hopeful child, every mother and father, every inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every superstar, every supreme leader, every saint and sinner in the history of our species, lived there on a mote of dust, suspended in a sunbeam.

The earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that in glory and in triumph they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of the dot on scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner of the dot. How frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe, are challenged by this point of pale light.

Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity—in all this vastness—there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves. It is up to us. It’s been said that astronomy is a humbling, and I might add, a character-building experience. To my mind, there is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly and compassionately with one another and to preserve and cherish that pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.

Where am i going to sit after the bust of Pallas gets pawned?

2006-05-10T00:39:00.000-07:00

Been away from Internet lately. Been working on a lot of different stuff lately, and been pretty focused on said things. If i could sledgehammer people into my daily grindings, i would be a bit happier. Instant coffee and 15 second conversations suffice for now. I shouldn't get all dressed up with nowhere to go. Story of the last year and a half of my life in regards to that. I should sell my possessions and live on the lam for a while. At the same time, i want to be tied down. Tied down and loving it. I'm confusing.

Misc:
The May Petals recordings sound pretty good! Good job guys. I need to change the oil in my car tomorrow. Theres a mouse in the house that needs to get shown the door. Been off prescription drugs for a while now. Feeling good, but closer to okay. Seen a lot of (good) films in the past 3 months, but please don't ask me whats out this week. Organized crime seems like a decent vocation minus all the violence. I need to go do karaoke again sometime.

I'm wearing a chain around my neck and thinking that it looks pretty good, unconcerned about the strain its putting on me. I hope it doesn't scare you to hear that i'd drop everything for you.

I suppose now we are cooking.

i'm wanted in fifty states and in mexico..

2006-04-23T03:37:00.000-07:00

I'm not quite running ragged yet, but we'll see in another two weeks how i'm doing. I guess that's when the next short term check up of my self-preservation skills should happen. I'm not too tired, just a little anxious that i might be soon..just like i'm not really too much of lonely person, i just think i need to refocus on a close relationship that cuts me down to the quick, one where i can be completely honest. Of course you can't just crack open a sixpack of those whenever you want. Just like i can't seem to crack open a one-pack of a girl that i find interesting and can keep my attention and all that good jazz...(that is, one that i don't already know.) My attempts of late have just left a few women running into me, like a chain link fence that they didn't see. I can imagine thats disorienting and confusing and.. it must hurt. I can't say I like that at all. I fault myself and my overly optimistic nature, in trying to see the best parts of people..and getting disappointed.

People can be so painfully boring...my job that deals with the general public mostly affirms this. Once in awhile i get surprised..but I can say that i don't rely on others to make each day something new in it's own little way--that is, the way my life is at the moment. They sure can help me in that respect though. :)

I'm trying my best to be slightly buttoned down..but at the same time riding the rails of life. Like a business executive with lots of tattoos that his co-workers never see. Nah...how about Jack in the coffee pot? Hmm..actually I don't think theres a proper analogy for what i'm thinking. How about: a clear headed derelict with a million dollars in his front pocket? No. Let's leave it at me, trying to pin this whole life analogy down while the concept itself squirms around like a worm on the dissecting plate.

how many helium balloons would you like?

2006-04-19T03:02:00.001-07:00

Tidbits:

Someone's horn got stuck in the parking lot downtown today. It was a new Volvo, and the rather professional lady who it belonged to was standing stupidly close to the blaring noise and shouting into her cell phone. I wanted to go over to her car with a wrench, disconnect her negative battery cable, and walk away wordlessly. But I was running late, myself. I figured that her situation would be one in which she learned a practical lesson or at least spent some of her money paying an anonymous blue collar person to fix her little problem.

I remember reading somewhere that the biggest fear the average person has is of public speaking. Comparing that to the fear of death, I think that means that at a funeral, a lot of us would rather be in the casket than doing the eulogy.

Coke came out with this new drink called Coca-Cola Blak. It's basically coffee flavored coke. What a taste disaster that must be. Maybe if someone's handing them out again like they were last week downtown, i'll take one. The thing that kept me from getting one last week was that I would have had to cross a busy street to get a free one, and I figured that the idea of coke and coffee at the same time just really isn't worth it. We'll see if theyre on my side next time.

So i had a random waitress give me her phone number the other night. I don't think i'll call her, but we'll see. She seemed a bit...off, but at the very least, interesting. That phrase makes me wonder if anyone has ever described me as a bit off. It wouldn't make me feel bad, i'm just curious about it for some reason. Anyway, she left the coffee pot at our table.. and sat down next to me and asked too many questions while she wasn't helping people out. I think she was trying too hard.

My boss's mom, who is probably in her 70s, now refers to me as 'rocking randy'. When she was asked why, she said 'he's probably a beatnik or something and does that kind of thing'. I find this incredibly amusing.

I watched the first Star Trek film and Star Trek: Nemesis tonight. That was pretty neat. Apparently there's a specific tactical maneuver in space that's named after Capt. Kirk. It probably has a sexual counterpart as well. Another point against me and Picard. Shazbot!

Computer struggles. Why can't i get this machine to do something i want it to do? Data from one place to another! Grarhg.

And, my non-existant dog ate my homework. For serious! Not for serious.

Infinite love to ya'll.

why don't i hear any sleep screams

2006-04-14T03:09:00.000-07:00

One of my heroes is Thomas Jefferson.

Thomas Jefferson was a badass motherfucker, standing at 6'2 with reddish hair, bearing a green thumb like no other. I'd imagine he looked a bit like Conan O'Brien.

Jefferson served two terms. During his second term, his vice president was a man named George Clinton.

Jefferson gave only two speeches during his presidency, as he was a lousy speaker. Everything else was written down, some of it being published and sent out, including his State of the Union Address.

Jefferson wrote over 20,000 letters in his lifetime, one I find being particularly important, the "Wall of Separation", which sparked what we know today as "Separation of Church and State".

Contrary to popular belief, Jefferson is said to have been a Deist; thus, his reference to a God at the beginning of the Declaration of Independence holds no relevancy to the Christian God as many are lead to believe.

Jefferson became the foremost American architect of his time -- designing the Virginia Capitol, the University of Virginia, and his own home, Monticello.

Jefferson was also an inventor. Of his many inventions is the swivel chair!

At the age of 9, Jefferson began his studies, residing with a Scottish clergyman who taught him Latin, Greek, and French.

Congress appointed a committee to write the Declaration of Independence. The committee then unanimously asked Jefferson to prepare the draft, and it was approved with few changes.

Jefferson created the University of Virginia. He reorganized the curriculum, hired the faculty, and selected the library books.
___

Hectic! Goddamn. Tomorrow's a day off. A chance to do things i've been meaning to do, communicate with whom i have been meaning to, and etc. It's also my younger brother's birthday. Happy birthday Matt! I think i'm going to buy a lottery ticket tomorrow. If i win 225 million dollars, and you email me the secret word, you'll get a prize. Now, i'm tired, and it's time to go get used to sleeping in a cold bed again.

Ok, can't end on a sour note, so i'll finish by saying that i asked the bank teller yesterday for $2 bills, and she gave me 20 of them. Haha, that's just the kind of guy I am. Also, there was a thunderstorm tonight, and it was cool.

there's some ice in the freezer

2006-04-10T00:49:00.000-07:00

in rememberance of things said or maybe not said:

flying saucer dudes came and asked me for directions. i told them to fuck off, and they said thanks and flew away. i hope i helped them out.

i am a carpenter ant. i say 'there ain't no life nowhere..well..maybe." and then i get killed by an exterminator's poison.

i shot the fly and got a free ringtone. i said "neat"

tonight, i said "i want some crystal pepsi" to jon. jon wants some van halen and crystal pepsi.

i'm missing some people pretty bad, and i'm doing all i can do to just be okay right now.

i said "thank you" probably close to 60 times tonight.

i saw a guy who had a 7 inch long tribute to 9-11 on his arm. seriously! it was huge. he was wearing a sleeveless shirt to show it off, but im sure if anyone mentioned it, he would play it off like it was no big deal. secretly, he'd probably think he was the shit and that he's "reaching people."

i would not want to participate in a game called the 'chilidog challenge'

it's easy to get turned around.

i want to get sent home and still get an "A" for the day at the same time, by causing conflict and inter-classroom strife, but not interrupting the learning process.

i watched 'good night and good luck' again for the 5th time at work. There's not too many things that are fairly new and are still rated PG.

And goddamnit, i can't handle a relationship with someone like you right now. You've got little sections to you that i can't deal with. Over.

I bought energy saving bulbs at the store the other day.

I am a Dorkus Malorkus, and i just capsized a Coast Guard boat.

I enjoy mixing inanities with seriousness and randomness.

phone starts ringing and she's almost dry

2006-04-05T03:34:00.000-07:00

I have had some interesting conversations with customers at the store about the film Brokeback Mountain. (I know it been out for a while now, but it just came out on DVD today.)There's a interesting double standard regarding homosexuality, especially in guys. If a film were to explore a same-sex relationship between two female characters, I don't think I would hear nearly the same kind of commentary regarding it. I don't know exactly why that is, I'm not sure. Is it because the typical (well, let's say more closed-minded, and idea that i don't share at all) male idea of the female role in any relationship, sexual or non, is ideally submissive..and a homosexual relationship between two men lacks the qualities that some men use to validate thier 'manliness' or some bullshit? Or is it because they immdiately visualize and think of any sexual acts (which they may regard as 'disgusting') between two men when any hint of a homosexual relationship is mentioned in any form?

Some people won't ever look past the moniker of 'that gay cowboy movie' and see the love story that is there for what it is, and that's a shame. Oh well, they can choose what they want to think just like I can.

Also, I think it's a symptom of a closed mind to assume one's personality is soley based on who they enjoy fucking. Although sometimes I seriously think how cool it would be to be a gay woman. Hehe.

theres a kernel stuck in my window

2006-04-04T11:57:00.000-07:00

I'm updating after work tonight. Gotta close-that means til midnight. Yay! brb.

Okay, back.

Well fellas, here's the first of the day. To D.H. Lawrence!

2006-03-29T11:47:00.000-08:00

I am in need of some good nerd-prog rock from the late 70s-early 80s. Yes' "90125", and "Signals" by Rush, or "Foxtrot" by Genesis. (I guess that's early 70s.) I think i've said this before, but for some reason writing this blog makes me think of that kind of music. Too bad my money pretty much goes straight to the Man, and I can't buy music right now. Sigh!

Here's some mudane details:
I got free garlic bread at the store. It was pretty cool. I found an old shirt of mine that I thought I had lost. I watched "Good Night and Good Luck" 3 times in a row at work. I had a dream where I fell through a window but the ground was right there. I've used some "creative" practices to come up with meals, in combining things that don't belong together. I watched some old VHS tapes, one was a program about people that grow weed, the others were episodes of Miami Vice and other late 80's shows. My mail is finally getting to me without a hitch. The magic marker is completely off my arms, finally! Boring details /off.

http://wcbstv.com/local/local_story_087170103.html

Cat Terrorizes Neighborhood! I can imagine this cat organzing other local cats and forming a street gang.

More later tonight.

i can take a hint from you, ann jane don't cry

2006-03-17T16:05:00.000-08:00

Today is the day that I'll magically shrink down to tiny size and tell people to drink Guiness and burn thier house down. Mmm...that sounds pretty good, other than the burning house part. If only I had some better insurance..

don't buy the realistic

2006-03-15T03:59:00.000-08:00

My favorite site as a distraction over the past couple of days has been this :
http://www.beenews.com/policeblotter_01.asp

People are so idiotic when it comes to reporting things to the cops! Well, i suppose if it annoys cops, then it's okay by me.

I'm finally getting my phone back in the next three days. Woot. I'm also getting most of my music files from my other computer moved onto this one-which can actually get online-this week as well. Yay! Now it's time to eat a bagel or something.

believing is art - back to the life

2006-03-13T03:48:00.000-08:00

It's 108 miles to Chicago, we've got a full tank of gas, half pack of cigarettes..it's dark, and we're wearing sunglasses. ...Hit it.

Today was a day for balloons. Helium balloons! It was nice and windy..but still i felt incredibly cheesy to be carrying around a clump of them. They were eventually set free, only to wind up caught in a tree. It stormed like hell tonight, so they probably all popped. They had a good life. We gave them a worthwhile existence, i'd like to think.

Word Cloud!!

It gathers words from your blog or whatever and arranges them like so. Doesn't really say much as far as pertinent information goes, but it's neat. Neat.

we need to go see monster trucks someday

2006-03-09T14:10:00.000-08:00

Some news website reported something like "NASA to Make Huge Announcent About Life In Our Solar System" with absoluetly no details whatsoever, while in reality the announcment was really about water on Enceladus, a moon of Saturn. Way to over-sensationalize science!

Sure, possible discovery of water is significant, but I wouldn't exactly report it as "OMG ALIENS!" It would be funny to see a news report like this though:

"Apparently our mars probe hit what appears to be an office-type structure.. We have intercepted apparent news broadcasts from Mars calling Earth "part of the axis of evil." and referencing "Bringing freedom and democracy to the people of Mars."

Lol..

armed robbery is up about 15% from last year in this town

2006-03-08T09:04:00.000-08:00

So I haven't had time to update this as of late. But, I did find time to write some of my more non-sensical stuff over on the xanga. I dunno why I don't try and keep all of this localized. Variety I suppose. I watched an Indiana Jones movie last night..only thing I could find throughout the entire store that I actually cared to see. I probably wasn't looking hard enough, but there are a lot of cruddy movies out there. Good ones here and there, but mostly crud. When I'm feeling not so good, any Indiana Jones or Star Trek movies will put me back in a better place. The Blues Brothers as well..I remember Jon watched that something like 13 times in a row after a breakup or something. Haha, what a coping mechicanism..whatever works!

I've got wires inside my head

2006-03-01T22:49:00.000-08:00

I hope someday I'm half the composer Danny Elfman is. Maybe even an eighth would be acceptable. Even though I don't think I would write the kind of strange 'musical narrative' that's inventive and fun and intelligent in the same way. It is something to aspire to, however.

My goal for 2006 is to learn accordian and get better at harmonica. They're actually quite similar instruments.

I think I've been on a self-improvment kick lately. Haha, but I'm not going expound upon it until I'm actually improved(this applies to the above as well.) Then I can regale this blog with my new and improved exploits.

Your results:
You are Jean-Luc Picard

Jean-Luc Picard		80%
Chekov		65%
Geordi LaForge		55%
James T. Kirk (Captain)		50%
Uhura		50%
Deanna Troi		50%
Spock		47%
Will Riker		40%
Mr. Scott		40%
Mr. Sulu		35%
Worf		30%
Leonard McCoy (Bones)		30%
Data		25%
An Expendable Character (Redshirt)		25%
Beverly Crusher		15%

A lover of Shakespeare and other
fine literature. You have a decisive mind
and a firm hand in dealing with others.

Click here to take the "Which Star Trek character are you?" quiz...

settle my score on the salsa floor

2006-02-27T02:35:00.000-08:00

(I promise I'll email tomorrow! you know who you are)

Tonight we went out a little bit more organized for urban archeology. Our haul included probably 25 to 30 dollars in free food. It's all sorted and organized in piles on my floor, and its quite a haul. What a shame that this just gets thrown out while people everywhere don't have enough to eat. It's almost worse that some random people can just go down the block and score all of this....I almost feel like it shouldn't be ours. But oh well, to the 'victor' go the spoils. We've decided we're giving away a lot of it too. I don't feel at all bad about it either, or feel the stigma associated with this kind of activity. I look at it like.. we're just exploiting the wasteful society we live in. It's a re-distributive thing. Not that I think the world can be a commie-paradise from a couple of people getting into the right dumpsters and distribution places (that aren't guarded), but at least it's something. Now I just need to own a hybrid car and not be so lazy about my recycling, haha..

Well, the other factor involved with this is the fear of getting hassled by the 5-0, which has already resulted in a long story from earlier. It actually makes diving kind of exciting, that is, not the quasi-legality of it, but just the fear of getting 'caught', even though the concequences are really, in reality, nil. hehe. I'll admit its an adolescent kind of feeling, and thats kinda nice to have to stave off over-seriousness in my life. Not that I have a problem with staving off over-seriousness! Well here I am over-explaining myself to readers that probably know me well enough to know. Time to shut up. :)

clap your hands say yeah

2006-02-23T10:10:00.000-08:00

I had a fucked up dream last night in which I was fighting somebody for a long time. They were smaller than me and kept punching me in the face and head to no real effect. The guy was harrasing me for no good reason I could tell, and wouldn't leave me alone. Hmm..I wonder what this symbolizes. I remember music from the dream too, but it was indistinct.

Well, I've been away from my place quite a bit in the past couple of days, for various reasons. Not quite yet done with some recordings yet but I'm working on them tonight or tomorrow afternoon.

Cross-post by me from another thing I write in:

I'm good at entertaining myself. I chose not to say "I think" because who else is going to judge such an internal and arbitrary thing like self-amusement? The other night after work, I went to Meijer. To me, the act of going and buying food and other whathaveyou is not drudgery if I don't want it to be. I'd like to think, to the passerby, I look slightly off, walking in a not-so-straight line, picking up weird/amusing merchandise, whistling, and swinging my basket around. (And yes, I knocked over a jar of spagetti sauce three weeks ago. It broke, of course. )

Being called easily amused is not something I would find insulting. Unfortunately, I'm too busy counting the stains on the ceiling at the DMV or sliding around in the parking lot to feel sorry for the people who have to consistently put effort into something that should be as simple as getting a huge kick out of laughing at a label that says "DARTH VADAR" in Target, for example. (My example.)

This isn't a black and white viewpoint of mine. My ego says that I have to state that I like things that are complex and well thought out. At least the ego isn't so big that I would assume everyone who might read this thinks I'm such a superlatively refined guy. Oh well.

I heard "Changes" by Yes on the radio again

2006-02-17T00:18:00.000-08:00

I should be asleep. Instead, I'm typing, and I've got the heat cranked up, to offset the frozen fucking everything outside. Maybe all life has been killed off, or an ice age has started again. Neat. I'm not getting up to look though, so I guess I'll know when I have to know. Haha, ridiculous.

Seriously, it's pretty dangerous outside, as far as driving goes. I don't mind driving tomorrow morning, cause the reason to go out is money in the bank, in the form of a paycheck.

The world is a giant honey pot trap for people too cynical too see how easy it can be. Then again, the overly optimistic say 'ooh, floor pie' and wind up swinging from the ceiling.

Today, I make a grumbling sound

2006-02-14T09:55:00.000-08:00

I have to join the bitter, unlucky, too picky, or just plain ugly today and say to hell with valentine's day. Oh well! No work today, just guitar students, and thats pretty good. I was able to get some sleepin in this morning too. And apparently I'm Chromium...

Cr...Chromium
You scored 33 Mass, 17 Electronegativity, 88 Metal, and 0 Radioactivity!

Oooohaaaaah.... shiny! You probably have an incredibly stable and
well-maintained group of friends... that probably also don't get out
much either. You're not one to get bogged down by a problem. Of course,
I'm basing this upon Chromium's ultra-low water-exchange constant and
it
's corrosion-resistant properties, and I wouldn't be too surprised if
the analogy doesn't even apply.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 34% on Mass
You scored higher than 6% on Electroneg
You scored higher than 99% on Metal
You scored higher than 0% on Radioactivity

Link: The Which Chemical Element Am I Test written by effataigus on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

Make your titles work for you

2006-02-10T08:14:00.000-08:00

No workin' tonight, sleepin' in today. Sounds good to me. It snowed about two inches last night, but Jon and I were too busy drinking High Life and watching The Two Towers to notice.

Candid Avenue has a gig next Friday in Battle Creek, not sure of the details but its a 45 minute set. It'll be our first gig with new instrumentation, and we're all pretty stoked about it. Last night's practice went fairly well considering we hadn't practiced in a while. Quote of the night was from Tony: "I kicked you guys' asses at that song!"

In other news, my general state has improved. Sometimes it only takes a paragraph or two from the right people to turn the tables around. Now, to eat some toast and have some coffee. Ciao.

a completely arbitrary number

2006-02-07T09:15:00.000-08:00

So today i'm feeling slightly better than normal. I heard from two different people yesterday that I haven't in a while, and that has helped fill in the hole a little bit. Holy shit, yes it did. I guess the only complaint I have at this moment is that I'm really hungry. Ah, living alone means that I have to take initiative to go get food.

So here's a working tracklist for the SA record:

clamming up and calming down
wane
the new marlevous american catastrophe
impress you
highway
not until it stops snowing
my brief career
cephalopod
get it
you just aren't working
no company expected this afternoon

I guess since only two people have ever heard the tunes, I guess it doesn't mean much to anyone. But I'd like to think I come up with some decent titles. I think I'm gonna go lift some weights or something.

some change for directions

2006-01-30T23:15:00.000-08:00

Travel makes one modest..you see what a tiny place you occupy in the world.

No new content yet, i think i might expound upon my last post a little bit tomorrow or the next day or talk about money or trying to stave off loneliness. C'mon, its an e/n blog, we've established that =) (however, it would make me laugh if someone did comment with the words 'lol emo' here, even though IM NOT, lol. ) Today was okay, except for my cell phone cutting out of service. Damn you postal service!

Laugh:

meet me tonight in Atlantic City

2006-01-29T17:21:00.001-08:00

Me and my trenchant mouth. I seem to be adept at being flat out with people when it comes to the personal relationship I have with them. I had to explain to somebody last year why I wasn't attracted to them, and that I didn't want them. I can't imagine most people taking something like that well; "here's stuff I don't like, bullet point A. On the next slide.." To be honest, I didn't think I had any business trying to be in a relationship at that particular time anyway (this is when you spin your finger next to your head vertically) so now I just look at that time as a bit of a learning experience. She was blonde anyway. Feh. I bring this up because it kinda happened again, that is, a girl was attempting to get some answers out of me about our short lived relationship (began/ended a couple of months ago)just the other day. I couldn't tell if I was making her feel better or worse. Probably worse. Sorry.

I think i've developed a bit more bluntness over the past while, and I like that because I realize when I'm being too blunt or whatever. example: A kid was trying to tell a joke the other night, and after it was done he says, "too soon?" so I say, "Nah, it just wasn't very clever." Yes, I think about everything after it happens, its the dorkiness/slightly obsessive part of me kicking in.

Dissected minutae like this reminds me of the 'embarassingly confessional' essays of my friend Chuck's blog, although I don't think I could do it for more than two paragraphs.

Somethinged by Funk

2006-01-25T16:51:00.000-08:00

Another list-eqse style thing to chronicle the past little while:

Eating cheese til i'm blind, newcastle brown can really smack you down (ask humble pie). saying good-bye to someone i didnt want to leave, completely different family dynamic than i'm used to, and cats, cool ones, my favorite being Chauncey. my car drives like it is much newer and doesnt have 196,000 miles on it, huzzah. the largest joint i've ever smoked, playing through super punch out and a lot of wilco songs and not caring how badly or well we did. a re-emergence in coffee in my every-day life. guitars missing, police, the criminal underground indirectly helping out. writing again and playing again, and a new set-up space at jon's. epicureanism, but over-the-topness as well. a 5 person art project involving crayons and oil pastels. a paper on the effects of mass media on election results.

Maybe it's a toothache. That dull, indirect ache that I almost enjoy. Pushing on my teeth, not wincing, but just exploring the boundries of that particular kind of 'hurt.' No, its a splinter. A small one, maybe fiberglass. In digging it out, the extruding part broke. It now hurts when i press on it, but i know its fucking up something inside my finger or whatever. It reminds me. I have to say something, or hear something.. but i'm fairly certain you don't care anymore. We'll see if i'm not so spineless. Ah, good night.

pickle juice on the dashboard

2006-01-24T15:29:00.000-08:00

Some more pictures for the hell of it. I'm fairly busy..can't really write a serious update now. Plus, Martha is leaving tomorrow. :sadface: Oh well, when she leaves I'll actually be able to get something done around here. Not that I was complaining! Then, it's back to being stuck, and attempting to unstick. And work and school, as usual.

threading the needle for life

2006-01-24T06:40:00.000-08:00

has my current state of affairs turned me into tinder in a blaze? well, maybe. more like missing a few colors in the palette. different metaphors for about the same thing.

left handed ledgers

2006-01-20T17:51:00.000-08:00

I'm not completely left-handed, but my twin is. strange, huh?

Ok, since i'm updating this thing regularly now, I sat down to write another entry, and found it deleted when my browser froze. Damn, should have used notepad. Oh well, I'll re-write it. Until then:

well i stood stonelike at midnight
suspended in my masquerade
and i combed my hair til it was just right
and commanded the night brigade
i was open to pain and crossed by in the rain
and I walked on a crooked crutch
i strolled all alone in a fallout zone
and came out with my soul untouched
i hid in the clouded wrath of the crowd
but when they said 'sit down' i stood up.

delusions of mediocrity

2006-01-19T11:36:00.000-08:00

Feeling sluggish this afternoon. The coffee maker's broken or lost or something, and the only thing else I have to drink is this thick green stuff with lots of vegetable-ness. Sure, it's probably a hell of a lot better for me than coffee, but it doesn't shock me into alertness like a cup of decent coffee would. As long as my fingers and my brain work right now.
Oh, living alone. I like it about 7/8ths of the time. argh.

I think i'll run for a local political office. Sometime. Depending on where I live in the next year or two. Yeah, I want to do that, and I want to drive a car at 140 miles an hour. And go to Europe. Ok, i'll start small. First, I am going to check the mail.

sleeping with the fishes, see

2006-01-12T17:49:00.000-08:00

Some scratch photos from last Sunday. Edit: I forget to say that I'm the one with the dark glasses.

lines

2006-01-12T02:30:00.000-08:00

i thought bloodletting was dismissed by modern medical science ages ago..
theres a perfectly good explanation for this dreck
songs from the book of life for everyone
how i miss your face in low light
the frozen air of the highway
spending time on the borderline

**
oh, and a pre-emptive sorry to the people that search for 'candid avenue' on google or whatever (for the band) and come here instead to find a bunch of e/n nonsense. go to www.candidave.com.

eep eep

2006-01-10T22:12:00.000-08:00

work. boxes. school. books. cleaning up, loss of personal space. guitars, acoustic and non, pictures being taken of the band for the album. not being able to write or sing very much. money problems and money solutions. being late for work. old english 40ozs. good company. girl that is annoying and girl that is awesome. bruises on my arms, dry skin on my hands. wanting to be alone, desperately not wanting to be alone. silently screaming but in a psuedo-healthy way. lack of sleep, lack of food and lack of...too many tvs and not enough stuff on the walls anymore. losses and missing spaces that i can feel somewhere, but im not sure where. leaping off the tallest building you think i've ever seen and landing like a feather. boom stands and microphones and tapes and the like. hollowness.. but resolve. a weakened resolve. 'changes' by yes. crazy ideas and the ability to carry them out. just life.

in rain, the summer sky and the ocean blue and green

2006-01-06T07:54:00.000-08:00

crosspost; but i don't have any new content until next week.

the celluoid's been cut before, ive said this before and ive been given what for for a no reason excuse get out of my life get out of my hair excuse excuse me ive tried and im not dead but maybe i could if i wanted to be, so far along the road/path of excusing myself from getting by getting by getting over you not so far but so far thats not all this is about dont count on it.

tiny castles and sand castles built in a couple of days and swept somewhere on a 22 minute television program that insiced and applied modern day avant garde physics conceptual jargonesque skylarky to so much that should (could must arent) be. (are). or can't be, maybe you have things to do today and everyday when you wake up next to whomever or whoever that wakes up next to someone that isnt exactly you anymore. eat your grains of salt and don't ask for pepper cause im not so safe anymore, its anymores that you gave and anymores that you kept and youll keep them for a long long time. from i want i want me mine self to you you you alone or however-- happiness that i want i want, from me directly stabbed into your heart place for yourself or whomself or himself or whomeverself.

you can feel this and if i cant help you i cant and if i can i need you to ask me because ive been so pre-empted by yourself before. besides be sides yourself who is there when your eyes close and who do you make to stand before you. get themself to make you the something that it is you wanting.

no real human panacea

2005-12-21T08:04:00.000-08:00

doing the clumsiest electric defiant mambo dance across the powerlines, a spectre of myself sneers my kung fu sneer at the hired goons below on the sidewalk, sent to teach me to swim with a little help from my living room carpet. the thing is, this, see.. they finished the job a while ago, and have already had a cup of coffee and a cigarette at some local dive after driving back from the lake where they deposited me. yeah, they looked pretty surprised. so surprised that they just stood and stared at this ethereal version of me without speaking for a while. my spectre was too busy to notice them. i think i was too, well, when i was still alive.

people can get beyond your reach. they just can, and i think theres really not much you can do. its a terrible thing; an action creates a gulf, a gulf can cause a paradigm shift. back to the drawing board? no, i claim this whatever for fucking spain. whatever that means, i've been razorbladed out of the celluoid. color, cut and print. my soul is disquiet. theres some reckless abandon left, there always is... and i have no idea what it will do next.

there was nothing left to borrow

2005-12-18T20:31:00.000-08:00

so i was working the other day. it was about 645, just before break, when a suit walked over to my work area. at first i thought he was just going to kinda stand around and try to look important, but he ambles over towards me. he then begins talking with the word 'sir'. now, i dont mind being called sir, but when some johnny unitas looking motherfucker comes over to me in all my early-morning dishevelment and says 'sir' i don't think hes just being polite. he told me that i needed to put my hair in a pony tail or some shit, because my hair could 'get caught in something'. wow! considering the only way it could possibly get caught in anything would require me to lay down completely horizonal on the belt, and try to jam my hair under the sides. (ill try it next week and post about it lolz)

at this point, im thinking 'ive never had any of my direct soups tell me about this. there are some girls that work nearby that have longer hair that i. whats the deal?' so i replied to him with a 15% sarcastic, 85% neutral sounding "okay". i asked my soup about this, and he said not to worry about this, he knew the guy and thought he was getting "too big for his britches". nice colloquialism.

maybe the guys parents were killed by a ravenous, bloodthirsty band of peace loving hippies. i'd like to think so, but thats a difficult question to ask in the workplace.
-

its almost christmastime, this is my happy face... nah.

integrity's gone swimming in dirty water

2005-11-30T19:40:00.000-08:00

so i have in my posession a gibson J-200 acoustic. it makes me shudder whenever i look at it. its fuckin beautiful! its thunderous but sweet at the same time. I thought it was a '74, but Jon re-dated it, and its a fucking 1969 model.

well, time to go try and feel better.
i need a cup of coffee and a smoke.
after that, ill go fall out of bed with a thump and drag myself around until friday.
then there's some relief.

research?

2005-11-13T17:15:00.000-08:00

theres a rule: one good cliche deserves another.
i hope thats a cliche. well, if its not, here's a truism.

I'm villianous. but saintly. well...i suppose i am patient, without being restless.

ok.

somewhere else to go

2005-10-30T19:01:00.000-08:00

http://www.xanga.com/candid_avenue

Updated lots more often. Lots of silliness plus lots of rand-related stuff. go forth...be human!

to make sense out of this mess

2005-10-25T22:26:00.000-07:00

Whosoever is delighted in solitude is either a wild beast or a god.

Aristotle

all I can see is black and white and white and pink with blades of blue that
Lay between the words I think on a page that I was meaning to send to you

the moon and some pyramids

2005-10-19T07:22:00.000-07:00

Go back. Go back to where the smoke came from...where the rattle in the engine began its aerosol can jitterbug. Turn the radio down and listen closely. Actually, just stop. Stop driving, stop walking ..just stop. It clanks. Its noise screams inside my head though I don't move. I Wait. When I stop..i notice. That which is not hidden from me, by me, maybe even for my own good... but only for now. There is always hope, isn't there? But knowing this, it continues. It can't fix itself with inaction. I could cover my ears and scream... it gets as loud as i do, but without a raw throat and a heaving chest. I look at it and you and i think that theres nothing else. that they are not co-eternal. that they co-exist only in each other's absence from me.

That's it.

Something is slightly apart from me and can't be replaced by a cheap off the shelf component. Yes.

It's the worst thing in the world when...
oh you know the rest. i've told you this.

now i'm barely breathing in a world full of air
breathe in for me please. i'll know when you do.
i'd do the same thing for you, you should know.

No new content except...

2005-07-24T00:01:00.000-07:00

2005-05-30T13:39:00.000-07:00

I have a problem with the breaking of my own tables, so we're gonna take it up with Mr. Laser. Or, Mr. Placeholder Post.

lol placeholder

2005-05-30T13:36:00.000-07:00

Fear the Kung-fu can!

If you are against me, you are my enemy!

2005-05-19T21:33:00.000-07:00

Yes, we get it, Anakin.

I just saw Star Wars Episode 3: Revenge of the Sith. Or should I say, Star Wars Episode 3: Deluxe, With Previews Fuzzed Over By Marijuana, Featuring Incredibly Greasy Popcorn...Edition. I also have to work in 4 hours. Shit. A mini-review to come. Later!

Whoa, a new post!

2005-05-18T00:06:00.000-07:00

For the past couple weeks, I've turned into one of those strange vampirelike people that doesn't sleep when normal people do. I'm sure theres somebody in the neighborhood that comes home late at night, sees a light on through my window, and thinks "damn, that guy must never sleep." But this is not so. I spend my afternoons blithely ignorant to the increased traffic and all those noisy things normal people do in a turtle-like shell of a nap. Due to my differing schedule, i've taken to running in the middle of the night, usually around 2:30. Its quite neat. It's cooler, there's barely any car or people traffic, and all I can hear is my footfalls and my breathing. Very....zen.

2005-04-05T19:53:00.000-07:00

Bitter, on-the-run cop seeks femme fatale hitwoman for fiery, bullet-riddled romance.
Must enjoy long walks through construction sites, high-caliber handguns and firefights.

2005-03-27T21:04:00.000-08:00

Now for something a little more conversational.

It's an act of pouring, an act of resignation of being empty and yet filled with something greater as high or higher than the top of the chimneys of smoke that some ancient people strained to reach with song and dance and ritual.

Faith is something I have had in a few things. Mostly people. Sometimes included within "people" is myself, but to be completely self-reliant is like climbing straight up an oiled cable. Sure it's possible..you fill in the rest.

But I won't ever deny how much power faith has, or deny how much it must take to completely devote oneself to something that requires a modicum of it. Sure, that's easy for me to say, and the cynical reader could chalk up me as being dismissive, but here's an example. I don't have to drive on the Nurburgring to know that it would be difficult to race full speed on, but if I was on the tarmac, only then would I know the full scope of what I was in for.

2005-03-27T20:31:00.000-08:00

The amateur reads the professional and cannot bear the understatement. The professional reads the amateur, gives up after the word “nowadays,” and decides that he/she has been video–gamed to idiocy; the amateurs are hopeless; this new wave will be the last.

I apathetically cling to neither label.

2005-03-27T20:27:00.000-08:00

Rage, fear, ballistic acts of free will.

It is, at one moment, wooing the young girls with tales of Rome and the feeling of lying inside a mild steel cage, driven simply by traction and gasoline. The next it is ramming energetic fists into the face of no one at all. It is unease. It is the passing shadow of a sacred time, with no man to be held accountable to. It respects neither the Father nor the Police.

It contemplates night in the shadows of dim starlight and vows to "change the world" in whatever fashion. It bends curves in unjustly tampered cars; always screaming into another day, and without regard for change. It burns. It occasionally twists motorbikes into lumps and spires of metal in an act of vengeance against nothing in particular. It abuses both drink and drugs, and it sprawls on the hallowed grounds of its musical heroes, enjoying simply the notion of art. It worships the fight and the prowess of those who don't care. It does not wait, it does. It acts. It screams and makes exaggerated hopelessness gestures to the skies above. It is profane. It snarls and bites and plays the dog. It becomes sad and full of rage without reason. And also, it ages.

It begins to grow into an era of both Law and Order, and it is far too big for either. It cannot subside, for the rage will grow stronger. But also it grows without outlet. It cannot purge. It festers, dying slowly, until only a shell of itís brilliance lingers. It is talked about in small towns and revered by those that have not had a taste of it. It is electricity. It is hatred and love, with nothing in between. It is without respect for the detriment of nature, or the perils of chance. It fears only it's own timeline, and becomes all too aware of it's own frail existence, without turning an eye to the existence of its master...or slave.

It is youth, and it is all that we have. And now it fades.

I would call him "Gigantor the Destroyer"

2005-03-02T07:58:00.001-08:00

Instead of Bubba.

http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&cid=514&e=7&u=/ap/20050302/ap_on_fe_st/leviathan_lobster

The downward spiral, revisited

2005-03-01T12:51:00.000-08:00

Every last one of us is a fucked up human being. What is normal? We're all so damaged and delusional and addicted to petty things. so beautiful and barely functional. If all we embrace only the parts we want to see, how much of ourselves are we really accepting? I'd rather be an outlaw than a hero. Someone who has to embrace themselves because to not live on the fringes of society doesn't suit them. Someone who has to be everything they are, even with all the ugly parts, to survive.

The Way that can be experienced is not true;
The world that can be constructed is not real.
The Way manifests all that happens and may happen;
The world represents all that exists and may exist.

To experience without abstraction is to sense the world;
To experience with abstraction is to know the world.
These two experiences are indistinguishable;
Their construction differs but their effect is the same.

Ok, so that's from the tao te ching. Don't count on any semblance of theme here.

Lacking anything of substance to say

2005-02-11T18:21:00.000-08:00

And then the world swirls down a night drain and the road opens wide. Winter will seal off this moment from the dull grey environs of the city. A place that makes a man want to escape it and someday return to rule it, to make it bow before him in a mechanical gnashing of automated teeth and melting miles of electric wire.

2005-02-08T15:59:00.000-08:00

You are familiar with each centimeter of her skin, the timbre of her voice, the movements of her eyes, and nearly all of her reactions. You love her laugh, the carriage of her head, everything, even (for instance) that tiny inperfection, possibly known only to you.

However, if you watch her sleeping, you will very probably have the impression of not knowing her completely. The face is no longer present to itself, there seems to be an inner absence. Eyes closed, body languid, posture unusual, the ineradicable innocence. And her breathing sounds far away. So why do you feel this curious mixture of total confidence, slight anxiety, and vague embarassment, as if you were present at some scene you should not be witnessing?

Most likely it is the juxtaposition of presence and absence that creates this unease. Perhaps you cannot really be sure that this Sleeping Beauty is indeed the same as the woman you love. You will never know. It may seem droll. And yet, all you can do is carry her along with your tenderness and love, which you can extend as far as possible, into the living heart of this silence, of which she knows nothing.

(from several months ago)

Come all you coalminers

2004-12-19T10:09:00.000-08:00

I've joined the ranks of people armed with cell phones! Yes, thats right. After a while of refusal, i've given in, and now I don't know how i lived without one. My availibility went up 1000%. Maybe thats a good thing..but maybe sometimes its not. Hehe. I'll give the positive a slight avantage here. Now it's time to run. Cheers.

oculars

2004-12-17T22:58:00.000-08:00

Sometimes his hands sweat too much. He was self-conscious about it, too, and this time the thoughts that the moisture from his palms brought to his made his face feel hot. He was standing in by the counter in a guitar shop. One of the chains where they ran the A/C on full blast all damn day. It didn't help. It also didn't help that the guy staring at him from behind the counter more or less stole his girlfriend from him two months ago. The counter guy finally spoke.

"Brian?"
A rocker. An 'emo kid'. Obviously dyed black hair. Eyebrow piercing. He said his name like it was a punchline in some sarcastic joke he read in a lame email attachment.
"So how you been, man?" Counter guy asked.
I guess she wasn't really a girlfriend. More a less a friend he was trying to win over. Failed. Not enough time put into the project.
"Okay, i guess."
"Sweet." He looked down and paused. "Well..i gotta..go finish back there..busy this time of year."
"You know I slept with your girlfriend, you skinny motherfucker."
Somehow that came out of his mouth as:
"Okay. Seeya."

Brian bought a harmonica. He couldn't play harmonica, but had always had a notion to pick it up. It seemed like a reliable instrument, and something he could play along with his own guitar playing. He got his reciept stamped at the front desk, went out the door, and pulled out his fifteen dollar harmonica, which cost him exactly half of what the parking ticket in the windshield of his car would. His palms were still damp. Goddamn meters, he thought.

His drive home was uneventful, except for the burning building that was in the lot where his apartment used to be. Before you ask, it was indeed him who left a candle burning on his kitchen table next to the stack of yesterday's mail.
----

One spring, she started to lose her balance for no reason. She started to fall down a lot by the summertime. People at work were beginning to notice. They also noticed she took a long time to write her name down on her punchcard. "What happened?" They asked each other. She spent her lunch hours in her car with the radio off, looking at the speedometer. She died in September. She had a tumor in her brain the size of a baseball. The doctors and everyone you know said there was nothing anyone could have done.
----

He drew lines in blood with a razorblade across his arms to get attention. His parents sent him to a therapist and the kid admitted it was all for attention. His parents were relieved. They weren't when they found him ghost white in the bathtub one morning.
----

I can't sleep. I can't. I'm trying, but something is dragging me through the shallow waters of waking life. A consciouness which sometimes only seems to be a medium for pain. There's a hand i see. Its pointing at my regret. I can't help but look. I can't help but notice that the hand is my own.
----

It's late.

I have a picture of a duck jumping. I miss ducks.

2004-12-05T13:11:00.000-08:00

Bonus coverage:
Okay, we're back. It's now Monday.

So this morning as I was taking in the garbage cans from the curb, some driver on the road nearby honked and stuck thier middle finger out their window at me. I was surprised, because I sure can't remember doing anything to anyone that would warrant such a response. "Wait a minute.." I thought to myself, "I'm a fairly nice guy." Dejected, I walked up the driveway.

That reminded me that once an arguement or altercation gets to "Hey..fuck you!"...there's nothing better. Thats about as high as it can go. What comes next as a comeback other than another 'fuck you"? My experience with the random flipoff this morning has me scratching my head because not only did I not do anyhting to piss them off, but they couldn't even be a good sport and start off with something a little lesser on the scale of arguementative expletives. Maybe I should have gotten their plate number and followed them home with a bat.
Insert a 'just kidding' expression here. Heh.

Is "formulaic" a bad word? Maybe. It can be. A formula, in the hands of the right mad scientist, can be a panacea
for boring art or music or even a better bug bomb.

In the pop music world, you could call all of the Ramones songs formulaic or Beach Boys songs the same, but i don't think that really detracts from them at all.

Trying to make something with constraints built in can be oddly liberating, as backward as it sounds.

It's like an art teacher telling you to use only two primary colors in an entire painting. A good artist would be able to use those two colors in a such a way that would be interesting, creating shades and utilizing the full potential of what they are given.

Ok, this is a half-thought out entry. I think I will be back with a shovel and pickaxe to finish this.

Save it for a rainy day

2004-11-30T16:18:00.000-08:00

Chicken noodle soup and a grilled cheese sandwich may be the lunch (or dinner) closest to the shining beacon of culinary perfection. I say this not only because I just finished a superb plate and bowl of the stuff, but because its probably one of the only things I can say I've liked since I had the teeth to eat the sandwich part. Now I'm not a simpleton when it comes to my taste in well...taste, for my favorite kind of food is definitely Thai food. Now thats the stuff. But I think grilled cheese and soup, tomato or chicken noodle or whatever you can put a hobo's shoelace in, is the base note for me.

Shifting topics to a more personal note, (yes, even more personal than my diatribes on food) I would say that there's a little coal glowing in the ol' stove again. Yes, its called optimism! Whoa, say it out loud for me. A re-shifting of the sights on the right people and an academic "career" that's to start in January can really do something for the point of view. If i were to tell the guy that wrote all the blog entries in October that, he'd probably reach through some parallel dimension and punch me in the teeth. But oh well. I think having some sort of plan that I've only got myself and maybe very few others encouraging me to do is great. That whole living day-to-day shit had to go. And it's going, going, gone.

i couldn't think of a better title

2004-11-07T13:28:00.000-08:00

This weekend, with the exception of the time spent visiting with my younger brother who is now a Navy boy, was pretty dim. I read an entire book in 1 and a half days. I bought some new cds, and some CD-Rs. Now the slightly less boring part of the workday buffer and loafing zone went as follows.

I spent about 2 hours last night letting falsehoods fly from my lips as if choked by my own voice and my second-hand smoke assailed lungs. I was in an Irish pub last night, by myself, just looking to have myself a pint and relax. Not after my nose received a dark foamy kiss did a couple, probably not older than 27 each, sit down next to me and greet me with a hello. Now you all know how conversation works. Imagine in your mind how 99% of conversations start and start to form, and you'll save me quite a few keystrokes, and these guitarman fingers need some rest once in a while. Ok. Thank you, forgive my digression--now, I took it upon myself to introduce my person as Clyne Shaw, a Arizonian musician and columnist for the Tucson Citizen. I spent a while lying. About history, family, everything. Lying hard to these strangers, who I really, for one reason or another, didn't feel like letting in to my own personal worldshell. And goddammit, it was fun.

Now let me take a minute to address the act of lying in this situation. Now, I'm not someone who overly lies. But, in this case, it was harmless, but had a bit of purpose to it. How about this: Simply shooting a gun off isn't very much fun. But shooting at clay pigeons.. like these.. was a riot.

I was the same person underneath though. I did this partly out of social reservation, partly out of feeling the natural human urge to bullshit with my fellow clueless carbon-beings, (as if we don't do that every single day with 99% of the population), and partly out of just trying to spend some time away from my cover. A 22 year old, redhaired musician with strange tattoos and a relaxed wariness. Uneducated at the moment. He's probably "saving money." I'll bet his songs are little nut clusters of broken hearted croon and socio-political radical nonsense. I'll bet he bites his nails. I'll bet he is grappling with himself.

Now that..is something only your humble author could write. What some other hack with a dirty computer would tell you is completely beyond me. Far enough beyond me that it's great.

Say 'ah'. Education, birthday, birthplace, geneology..and cars and sports and girls and TV and consumers and public service and jail and college and what happens?

An egotistical creative orgasm that you flaunt with every 'where are you from and where are you going?' moaned through the walls of some smoked out cosmic motel room. That heavy mist of someone's accelerated heartbeat and accelerated wasted or grasped life. You could breathe it in that motel lobby or a subway station. Perhaps an airport. The good ol' wall of idyllic and material personal history and details that we all seem to love to want to glean from the green streak running through the hair of the Goth at the bus stop or from the giant teardrop ring that the black woman who rings up your Froot Loops at the grocery store. It's all pretty semantics, and allows for some quick stereotyping. It's also efficient. It's as if they, in one shining, glorious moment, are the focus of that Time magazine cover photograph, and the discarded rest of the neighborhood or childhood tramua or youth liberation movement or pop icon admirers or energy crisis or divorced parents that are so integral of the subject's existence up until the present, lie cropped on the cutting room floor.

So I think I spent some time with different cuts on the floor. Who are some strangers to know? Who am I to even know? My trashcan bound celluoid changed from a twin brother and two cats and a cool family originally from Texas to whatever the hell I wanted it to. Not forever, just for now.

It's hard to make sense of this, but if you can get something, well gee golly shucks, neat.

Soylent Green is...people?

2004-11-03T19:15:00.000-08:00

You know when you watch a TV show or a movie, and the protagonist knows who the bad guy is, but everyone thinks the bad guy is really a good guy, and they keep going on dates with him and asking him to mind their kids and stuff, and the good guy gets more and more frantic, trying to make people see, until there is a crisis and he
is cast out, and then eventually the bad guy's facade cracks and everyone realises they were wrong, and they
welcome the good guy back with a pat on the back?

Being a anti-Bush person and watching Bush in action is like that. After examining all claims and counter-claims
we know that Bush has told lies and spun the truth to an ASTONISHING degree, and we feel certain that he has America and the world headed down the wrong track, and yet 50%+1 of the American population will not be persuaded and so the world is stuck with Bush. That is why those people are angry. It's easy to be polite and smiley when your guy is in the White House, and when you don't feel like the world is headed for disaster.

As if I needed another reason to be depressed..

Pre-Post Gig Update.

2004-10-17T13:31:00.000-07:00

I'm in the process of writing an entry that details the gig last night, but for now, i'll just say that my neck really hurts.

I ache from the waist up

2004-10-10T21:22:00.000-07:00

I was having dinner in town with my good friend Steve and my brother Jon, and for some reason, I pulled out my work ID. It was a picture taken right after my shift, and outside no less, so needless to say, I look a bit run down and squinty from the sun. Right after looking at the picture, Jon commented that I had "that Tom Cruise squint goin' on." Hilarious. I took it as a complement, seeing as how people generally think that he's an attractive guy.

On a similar note, I haven't felt like shaving for the past 5 or so days, and I'm starting to look pretty rough. It gets me wondering if I should go for the Jesus look for a while, just to see how I like it, because I don't really see myself having all this slightly itchy facial hair for too long. I guess it won't really be the Jesus look, but the "Tom Cruise in 'The Last Samurai' Look."

On a not similar note, but one related to my previous blog post, it's taken a lot of energy to not completely shut down and be unresponsive to the outside world. Being able to relax with friends at my house or whereever on the weekends has been good for me. The weekdays are the weekdays, and they drag along through the solemn fall, but I'm hoping that the winter doesn't kill me. I guess it might be just the way i'm configured, but not having something or someone central to my being is difficult for me. Okay, i'll can the emo bullshit for now. Be well.

Give me "The Downward Spiral".

2004-09-23T18:49:00.000-07:00

Not knowing exactly what you want to do with your life is a common thing. I'm sure theres some people die not even knowing the answer to that, and at the same time, I'm sure theres people who know exactly what they want from an early age. For me, it's frustrating knowing that I've spend the past 4 or so years trying to work on that, and haven't really been able to do much except tread water. Hopefully that will change when I go to school again next year, but optimism is a rare commodity.

Ok, I don't like to be real emotional on this blog (that usually goes somewhere else) but a cliche applies to my life right now. Sigh. Well, I've never said or felt that I've had a broken heart until very recently. I've always chosen different words or whatever, but sometimes things are so purely decimating, that the cliche is the only thing that will do it justice. It's hard to feel good enough for anything or anyone. There's always someone or something better.

Well, that concludes this. This concludes that. Bye.

Oops, pow, surprise!

2004-09-08T09:57:00.000-07:00

Yes, I'm an amateur, because it's been so long since I've updated with anything good in quite a while. (For those of you in the peanut gallery, next time i'll change "quite a while" to "ever".)

So composition has been the main focus in my own obsessive little musical dreamworld. I've been tied to a guitar and/or my composition software by choice for the past little while, trying to dig out songs for another musical project I’ve been working on. The tentative name of the group is "Stokes' Aster". Any good?
Shifting topics quickly: Inspiration really does happen to me, but not in the idealist, romantic sort of way very often. I'd say I’ve only been inspired to create something exactly during a particularly 'special' moment in my life maybe 3 times, and those ideas have yet to come into full bloom. (They will soon however.) I'm much too busy just trying to live and experience the moment.
I don't go and sit in the grass and look at the stars and try to write something, and I don't look at a damn sunset either. I don't have to take some epic journey to write a song called 'Astronaut Food'.
It's funny how this seems to happen to me. I’ll be driving to work at 4am, and I’ll see a sign that says "half off original price" and then the mouse that’s sleeping on the wheel up there will start to run. And yknow, I think I like it that way better, because I don't feel that I should have to put myself in an environment that’s slightly foreign or different than usual to get something original out of myself creatively. Granted, being in a new or foreign environment can be inspirational in and of itself, but that's not exactly what I’m talking about here because I don't/can't write songs as events happen in my life. The challenge is trying to capture it later in a snapshot that makes the memory of what I’m writing about come alive and inhabit a song. It’s like inserting a soul into a robot body or even a human one. (We'll let the guys who write prog-rock have the robot bodies here.)

2004-09-01T19:26:00.000-07:00

my hands covered my eyes, its been a long time and though longer times have gone before
its still a trip, and maybe someone will trip over me soon, i need that, need is what you believe
and belief is not needed here, here, the place of the end of your belief, once and for all then i was cast, cast like a broken limb or a tree, for nothing, for free, birds and bees and all the little peoples that scratchout whatever they please in such a world this is possible and to be damned is a pure thing, a real thing a coke or pepsi thing an enjoyment employment thing slang thang get off your high horse thang, a one way trip up to hell because ive been lower, lower than 5 or 6 but not as low as you, with your red eyes, closed eyes, beat eyes, red eyes, staying alive
alive alive in a living breathing dying writhing world.

I'm beyond titles. and manners.

2004-08-23T06:49:00.000-07:00

i'm bird reynolds
call now for free information
refer # ticket #
revolution rock
what's my dad gonna say!?
another song about mexico
hello, city morgue
super size it
beam me up scotty
i've done more drugs
lately i just can't seem to believe
corrosion intercept technology
won't fill you up and never let you down
you're fired
let off some steam
he's good to go
this is a very legitimate business. yes, very legitmate
what means the world to you, what does the world mean to you
et cetera
youre gonna pay and pay and pay, and if you don't
too many peanut butter cups
killer joe
no more swamp foot

I'm a frog and a Voltaire high on fumes

2004-08-14T06:32:00.000-07:00

So i sang last night at State Grounds. Maybe that sentence should be the extent of this entry, but i'll elaborate for the sake of being interesting (even if it's not interesting to anyone but me.) I wasn't aware that there was an open mic night over there until perhaps 8:30, when Chuck asked me to play "High Voltage" by Electric Six with him during his set at 9. That invitation was reason enough to speed home and grab my guitar, all the while debating in my head whether or not to play a set of my own. I made a deal with myself. I thought if there were any spots open before 10, i'll play. If not, i'll just listen to Chuck (who by the way, played lots of good new stuff) and just chill.

I arrive in a rush back to SG with my guitar, and i'll told 'hey, theres no acts for a while after 930, why don't you play?" I started to get nervous.

So i play "High Voltage" with Chuck, and he finishes playing the rest of his set. So, I make my way to the front (or is it back?) of the room, sit down, and talk into the microphone. I said "Since i've never really used one of these before, what's a cool rock 'n roll thing to say into this during a mic check?" I think that was pretty rock.
Or maybe not. Anyway, i play about 10 minutes of dead-string rock/jazz/blues/atonal instrumental junk, and for the last number, I sang. I sang the word 'again' out of tune at the beginning...but I thought I pulled off the song decently.

After my retreat from the stage, my friends said it was pretty good, and I don't think they were just saying that to be nice. So it was a good experience. Maybe I wouldn't have gathered the nerve to cut my teeth if I knew in advance about this open mic. I think being almost thrown into it at the last mintue was probably the best way for me to do it.

Edit: if i knew how to link, i would have turned Chuck's name into a link to his blog, but instead i'll just write out the link here: http://blogofthehurricane.blogspot.com/

Mark your calendars..

2004-08-09T14:41:00.000-07:00

- Candid Avenue - Saturday, October 16 @ Flanagan's

Come see us play and toss back a few in the process!

slaves to the remorseless grind

2004-07-19T07:49:00.000-07:00

Let's see..what has happened? I've moved...for a while. I got a cool plant that has a bright red stalk that looks like a feather. My feet hurt again. My cat Keeblers is pretty keen on me moving back over here, because now he has somebody that will let him get away with more stuff. (He still can't get on the counters though.)

The comment links were making my browser crash and my blog look all funny, so i removed them for now. Hopefully they will be back soon.

quote of the day:
Today I was telling someone at work to click the abort button on their download or something and someone at work asked if I was pro-life or pro-choice for some reason. I told him I was pro-coathanger and that killed the whole mood.

ok go

2004-07-18T19:07:00.000-07:00

okay. bear with me for a minute. Follow me, mk? This thought has has to make its way toward some kind of medium: We're not supposed to understand why or how we love something, we're just supposed to feel that feeling. The mystery of my own personal connection to things is such an integral part of what makes me feel the things i feel. I think that when i get too over analytical about things i lose sight of what really makes them special.
That unknown, that feeling of dumbfoundedness when something or someone has truly put its mark on me..that is what is the best. I can't really focus right now...just letter arranged to form words arranged to form a frame for my personal descent (or is it ascent?) into......somewhere. somewhere sublime.

I could spend $3.63

2004-07-10T09:21:00.000-07:00

I got my haircut two days ago. Nobody noticed. No, I haven't gone emo on you, I just got a little taken off the top(the bottom actually). Just enough taken off so my hair doesn't look like a mullet when I wake up. It's a bit easier to deal with now.

On the same topic, but not enough so to continue the above paragraph, someone said something funny to me the other in the park. I was walking with a friend of mine and a group of stoner-looking people were sitting on the ground and talking. One of them of was saying "....yeah, that's cool.." and finished the sentence with "just like that guy's hair." and pointed at me. So I said "thanks, everyone tells me to cut it." I think thier reply was something like 'fuck the man' or something but i really couldn't understand their stoner babble. They went and threw a frisbee. We went over and sat down nearby.

I've got to get arrested to keep you interested

2004-07-08T06:52:00.000-07:00

So for about 2 1/2 years, CA has kept a document file on the desktop of whatever computer has been in the practice space. This document was christened 'crap.doc' and is/was filled with tons of phrases and jokes and etc. from all the years of CA practice. I believe the last incarnation, "crap.doc is on a goddamn lunch break" got to be 40 pages long.
some highlights:

bud light: the bud light of beers
i went outside to have a cigarette.. see, i found one.
we comb bearing figs
im gonna get up early to do some eating
from there until the end of december was really 'ocward' at work

These are just some of the more obtuse phrases. There's a few stories and even the lyrics to the theme song for The Fresh Prince in the newest version. It appears to be almost stream-of-consciouness in some sections where the four of us would just enter whatever we were thinking while doing something tedious. I suppose it could be a cool study in how we work creatively while taxing each other, but i get distracted by stuff like: "dude...noone's around..wanna smoke this mic?"

ashes of american flags, and 9.6v turbo power

2004-06-30T06:05:00.000-07:00

Simple chemistry, thats all batteries are. You wouldn't that a metal and platstic casing with some abundant chemicals inside would be so expensive, but good lord they are. $12 for a 4-pack of 9 volts. I can go through an entire 9v in about 5 hours with my recording setup, and that sucks.

I have mysterious foot pain. It's coming from the top of my left foot, just to the left and in front of my ankle.
It's kind of a dull pain, but it hurt enough to bother me throughout work.

Today is also a day of recovery from last night. Not hungover...just feelin' a little....slow.

My name is Stubin McNarfgar

2004-06-28T02:51:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I think about taking up an activity, much like a hobby. Then when I think about it, i realize that I already do things that can be considered hobbies, yet I feel like calling them that would lower them to the level of say, stamp collecting or model airplane building. Don't get me wrong, those things can be neat in a i-don't-tell-the-opposite-sex-about-it way..but I was going to do a hobby, i would do something cool... like brewing. Now, I like beer. I've been able to develop a palate for some different stuff in my limited age and experience and an appreiciate for what exactly goes into making this (usually) tannish concoction. If I had the money and the time, (or if I didn't play guitar, etc.) I would probably try my hand at it. Just from what i've read online in a few different FAQs and newbie guides, it doesn't seem very easy, but it not being easy also can mean that it's a challenge! Sorry, thats that pesky optimism/rose colored glasses thing again.

I think the reason i would like that activity is because it 1. Its unique 2. I like beer 3. it would take some time to get good at it, (this is what we could call "personal enrichment"- LOL, thank you high school guidance counselor) 4. slight possibility of business potential.

I think an activity which requires some patience and skill would be the best 'hobby' for me. Something like wood-working (which I would of course turn into guitar-making) or photography (with the whole darkroom business) or writing.

Today I have some major stuff to take care of. Transitions being made and such. Ta-ta.

started an hour early, got home an hour early

2004-06-22T06:14:00.000-07:00

In two exploits of mine that i take fairly seriously, i've been trying to use them as a vehicle to become a more disciplined person in general. Those things are playing guitar, of course, and running, which is a fairly new thing for me, at least compared to my life with the guitar so far.

I like to think that "my mind is as clever as I am." It's all about your mind being tricky, and using every possible ruse it can conjure to get you to change what you are doing into something comfortable. If I'm playing a particularly difficult passage or struggling during a run, thoughts such as 'well, maybe i'll slow down, or play it a different, easier way that i'm comfortable with' and it takes strength to ignore that. I also realize this is one of the concepts behind meditation, which i've never tried or anything. But it seems like taking an almost meditative approach to practice and training just multiplies the effect of my practice and concentration. So i believe being disciplined in these things, which i love to do, will make me a stronger person in the ways thati really want to be stronger in.

this is when everyone grows up and gets real jobs

2004-06-21T06:09:00.000-07:00

I can tell you that "talent genes" are no more helpful in the long run than, say, being given a killer computer, as opposed to saving up and buying one yourself. Eventually, the one saving will have caught up, and the given one may be obsolete by then, anyway. You think talent is what made Charlie Parker great? How about Steve Vai? How about Dali? They got far not because they came out of the womb with better motor skills; they worked their asses off, practicing and training in their crafts for amounts of time most people would deem ridiculous (for example, Parker supposedly practiced 15 hours a day for the two or three years leading into the height of his career). Technical proficiency aside, the other thing that made them great was imagination. Everyone has it. Some have simply "freed it" more than others. Anyone can think outside the box, but few choose to do so.

I guess everything and everyone starts somewhere, and sometimes those things get corrupted by what it turns into. But thats another topic for another entry.

Maybe i'll write about something flimsy and shallow and not about music next!

i've got a box full of letters

2004-06-16T06:42:00.000-07:00

I was born 22 years ago today. So i'd thought i'd use my birthday as
an excuse to expound upon my thoughts on age and my limited experience with
it. Well, compared to people older than me. Yeah, i'm a comedy genius.

I think it was in my senior year of high school when i really changed my perspective on age. It was really a reactionary thing to all the typical "what are YOU doing after school?" bullshit. i felt that i really had no idea what the fuck i wanted to do the year after school, much less for the rest of my life. I saw all these kids-yes, thats what we all are at that point, kids-going and spending thousands of dollars of thier parent's money on an education, something that's meant to be responsible for the direction of the rest of thier lives. I suppose that's not a negative thing for some people, but i digress. My point is, it's unacceptable to me to have to make a decision like that at an age of 17 or 18, all the while dealing with the pressure of...well, just being that age. I thought..and i still think, what's the damn rush? I think a passage from the book "Fight Club" deals with what i'm
trying to say. Paraphrased:

When I graduated high school, i asked my dad what i should do.
He said, "Go to college."
When I got my degree, i asked him, "What next?"
He said, "Get a job."
After i got a job, i asked him again.
He said, "Get married."
At this point, I'm a 30 year old boy.

We're being pushed through 'curriculum' for the first part of our lives, and when we are given the chance to be free from it for the first time, most of us are just choosing to continue that.

Since i've just decided to ignore what is expected of most people with my intelligence and prospects, I've really felt like i can just take my time with whatever it is that i'm going to do.

Or maybe i'm just going to punch the next person who looks at me funny when i say thati'm 22 and not in school right now.

The Glory of Seinfeld

2004-06-08T16:16:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure why i love this show so much. It's just constantly funny to me. I guess it's the deliver and the timing of the 'jokes about nothing'.

Flipping the remote.

2004-06-08T13:06:00.000-07:00

I'm looking to do a sort of side project soon. It'll be rock. and roll. I have all this cool music and melody, but no lyrics to put with it. I'm like Elton John or some shit.

The music i'm writing separate from CA is definitely a lot more 'normal' i guess. I want the music to be songy, but i still want to rock. I never get to write sad music for CA, and i want to do that.

Something by one of my favorite authors

2004-06-07T08:39:00.000-07:00

http://www.inthesetimes.com/site/main/article/cold_turkey/

It's an article written by the old but still awesome Kurt Vonnegut. It's entitled "Cold Turkey." Read it.

Jazz: The Music of Unemployment

2004-06-06T21:17:00.000-07:00

Playing guitar in jazz is an art. It's something that very few players can do. It's more than just 7th chords, funny symbols, and accenting two and four--there's a different sort of mindset involved with it. But I can't expect someone who doesn't play or doesn't care for the specifics of music to understand or care. And thats...okay.

I love the dark, mellow sound of a hollowbody electric, with the tone knob rolled off to about 6, through an old tube amp. I feel different and a bit special when i have that setup in a guitar store or whatever. I don't feel superior, just unique i suppose.

Players that can play 10 zillion notes don't impress me anymore. They just don't, no matter how fast or how technically advanced. I couldn't really care less. I want to have the notes and the way theyre used make me feel something--and useless speed doesn't make me feel anything. There's power in subtlety-sometimes i just want to be able to peel back the layers and find something that is creative and makes me think about it.

I'm not trying to say music has to be complicated for me to like it..but i like to have something to really think about and be impressed by sometimes. Then again, other times i just want to hear good ol' dumb rock 'n roll.

The End of an Era..or "Celebrate Good Times"

2004-06-04T13:17:00.000-07:00

ORLANDO, Florida — The biggest rock band of the past decade has broken up.

After nearly 10 years together and more than 24 million albums sold, Creed have decided to put an end to their string of multiplatinum records and
chart-topping singles. The choice was made months ago, when guitarist Mark Tremonti and singer Scott Stapp reconvened after a yearlong hiatus and ran into problems.

"We had gotten together two or three times and nothing happened," Tremonti explained. "We got our instruments and played, but neither of us was taking it seriously. We were just running in circles. There wasn't a vibe like on the previous records. It felt very joblike. We knew that it would take us years to get a record out."

The trouble wasn't that the collaborative couple — Tremonti was responsible for the music, Stapp for the lyrics — were clashing creatively. Personal issues, mostly between Stapp and the rest of Creed, caused an irreparable rift that ultimately led to the band's demise.

"Scott and I hadn't been close for a while," Tremonti said, "and things just weren't working out. ... None of us really argued amongst each other. It was always Scott who had the problem."

Stapp declined to be interviewed for this story.

The animosity apparently began to churn two years ago, while Creed were promoting 2001's Weathered on a tour that Tremonti and drummer Scott Phillips described as long and grueling. For starters, to preserve his voice, Stapp sat out soundchecks, which had been where the bandmembers would goof around and playfully bounce new ideas off each other. So Tremonti was forced to germinate those ideas with Phillips and touring bassist Brett Hestla, who had replaced founding member Brian Marshall in 2000, and the collaboration got under Stapp's skin.

Having to postpone several dates because of Stapp's April 2002 car accident (see "Scott Stapp Discusses Accident That Derailed Creed Tour"), and a few more shows later that year due to his bout with laryngitis, only added to tensions in the band. Meanwhile, the other bandmembers got the sense that their singer wasn't as committed as they were, and his attention seemed fractured.

"It's not fun to count on other people when they're not that focused," Tremonti said. "Scott wasn't in the mindset that we were. He wasn't as focused on the current tour. He had 800 things on his mind, and I think that distracted him from what we were doing."

Among the ventures that Stapp was exploring was a clothing line called Screamline and forays into acting.

"He definitely had his plate full, whether it was professional or personal," Phillips said. "He always had the cell phone going," the drummer added, with an eyebrow raised to relay his disgust.

Well aware that something wasn't right in the band's dynamic, Stapp, Phillips and Hestla began talking about their situation, though they didn't figure a permanent split was imminent.

HOORAY!

im bruce banner

2004-06-03T06:40:00.000-07:00

i just wrote a whole long-ass entry into this fucking blog, and i get a 'this page cannot be displayed' error when i clicked 'post'. FUCKjdklasfjakdlsfnma,.dsfhajksdhfjkalsdhfjaksdnfa

im writing in notepad from now on

Flat five of five substition gets me every time

2004-06-03T06:12:00.000-07:00

I have a killer blister on my second smallest toe, and it really hurts. It's from my old work boots, which have been worn 5 days a week for almost 3 years. The right one recently split it's sole, and the resulting fissure below the padding is getting to my feet. I guess it's time to buy a new pair after i give the current ones a proper funeral. :(

I love Mozilla. It's like being i'm Ebenezer Scrooge being led around Internet by the Ghosts of Christmas, except it's not Christmas, and I'm not greedy and/or rich. Nothing can really hurt me, but i can still see all the stupid, sad, pathetic shit that pollutes the web. Oh, and the good stuff too.

No popups, no fucking spyware, no changing my homepage, no "Windows Messenger Service" shit, without having to run any outside programs such as Ad-aware. Doesn't that already sound great? I don't mean to come off as a zealot like those Linux freaks, but it really is obvious that this solves a lot of problems that i was having.

My brother got a shirt in the mail the other day. I didn't know he was getting it. It was a black Mozilla t-shirt with "take back the web" written on the back. I called him a bastard for getting one before me. LOL, its just dorky enough.

Since I've been in a list mood, my 10 favorite guitarists:
10. Larry Carlton
9. Frank Zappa
8. Jeff Beck
7. Albert King
6. Eric Johnson
5. Billy Corgan
4. Steve Stevens
3. Trey Anastasio
2. Pat Metheny
1. Steve Vai

I give Vai the top spot even though I haven't listened to him in a while. He gets 'all-time' cred for me though. I'm probably forgetting someone, and i'll update it with what i remember later. Also, this list doesn't weigh songwriting that much, its just who i enjoy listening to the most. Maybe i'll do the songwriter one next.

I just woke up on the floor today..

2004-06-01T17:04:00.000-07:00

So I'm "watching" the Pre-packaged Musical Enjoyment Product Sealed for Your Protection Part of a Complete Breakfast Nu-Perfect America show on Fox, where the performers aren't supposed to be concerned with music, for they are only required to move thier arms and hands in a such a way that can only be seen everyday on Maury Povich. The safest rock band on the planet, 3 Doors Down, is now playing..and the singer looks like he's in his 'booze and pills' phase, soon to be followed by the cocaine phase. The audience looks like they were hand-selected for appearance and ability to 'shake it like they jus doan cayer". Also, the only thing keeping me from shooting myself in the face is the constant projectile vomiting.

My solution: I turned the volume down on the TV, opened up Winamp, and now i'm enjoying some Jellyfish tracks. I feel better.