Tuesday, August 8, 2017
Tuesday, June 27, 2017
The Fault in Bodie's Stars and Other Wrongdoings
Been working, off and on, with
several novels-or-novellas-in-progress...the one that seems to be
picking up steam is INDIGO. These passages concern the character of
Bodie Lewis----think of him as the Robert Cohn character-----not to
compare INDIGO to THE SUN ALSO RISES, but just looking for a
butt-of-all-life's-bad-jokes thumbnail to roll with. Enjoy or
whatever.
I'm not sure I like Bodie. I like him
but I don't.
As the get-together (I'm
loathe to call it a “party”) wears on I hear him in the other
room and he's in a heated discussion with this girl---I don't know
who she is. She'd been having a loud conversation earlier about
pheromones---how you give off a pheromone when you're involved with
someone and people are attracted to you---you can't beat suitors away
with a stick. When you're single, however----and apparently this
relates to the fact that she'd broken up with her boyfriend---you
can't give it away-----nobody's interested. Again, the mystery of
pheromones.
Maybe there's something to all
this jargon, I dunno. It imposes too many tacit rules and
suppositions for my blood. You just need to be careful what you lay
out there in front of Bodie, though, because now he's trying to get
his foot in the door and it's not a pretty tableau.
“You said you can't give
it away, right? I look at you, I look at me, I see two nice people
who should just cut the shit and try being happy, you know? What's
wrong with being happy?”
“I know, but,
y'know.....no.”
“Come on!”
“You're just not my
type, dude, no offense, just, y'know.....that's life! Oh well.”
“ 'Oh well', what
the fuck's that supposed to mean?!”
“That's life, man, you just
move on. S'not a big deal.”
“It's not a big deal for
you, you can just shrug your shoulders and forget about it! I'm stuck
here with this shit forever!”
“Yeah....maybe you are. I
gotta go, dude.....”
Yeah, Bodie, maybe you are.
Eventually we all head down to
the University Computer Lab, shanghai some terminals and fart around
on the net. So we're all sitting at various points in the lab
separate and yet gloriously together. Crazy Ed is in Goth Chat under
a female persona then he cybers with some guy who thinks he's a
16-year-old hottie. He busts the third wall and scares the hell out
of the guy. No one ever hears from him again.
Some guy from a Christian Chat
site comes in and starts preaching at us, haraguing us, telling us we're all evil and going to hell. Why? I don't know-----because we like The Cure or some other nebulous reason. This prompts a mass exodus
to the Christian Chat site where we heckle everybody there. Some cat
calling himself Count Othmar starts calling himself “The Lion of
the Tribe of Shecky”, which is a hoot and a half.
Bodie tries cybering with a
whole slew of girls and they all laugh him off the net. He slams the
table and leaves the lab in disgust, probably to the joy of several
kids who are around waiting to work on their papers or do research.
Life is tough.
The rest of us are there
entirely too long. When we leave the lab it's early morning. The
sun's not up, yet, but the night birds are scaring up one helluva
racket. I'm almost sober again, and that just will not do.
***
Bodie gets up and delivers some
long, pompous, anal-retentive preamble about “intellectual
property”, and how, if you relate something he said it's very
important to tell people, even if all he said was a comment about the
weather, that “Bodie Lewis said that,” that this is just as
important as telling people “Bram Stoker said X” or that “ee
cummings said x”. And by the point where folks are catcalling Bodie
to get on with it we've all been appraised of how important all of
this is to Bodie.
When the poem comes around
it's a lot of rhymey doggerel about feeling one particular woman's
“hot breath” on his neck (which he has never felt, obviously) and
describing the look and feel of her legs (which he has also obviously
never felt or seen)----the mystery woman is never mentioned by name,
but I imagine it's Bessie.
***
“You really like
that one girl, huh?” Says Bodie, and I'm getting a distinctly
creepy, polluted vibe off him.
“Do what, now?” I don't
look up at him, which is a more and more frequent occurrence in my
interactions with Bodie. I can smell him, though, from the doorway.
He smells like jerky, hotdogs, Budweiser, stale BO and stale,
jizzed-in, unwashed underwear.
“That one girl,” he
says. “I don't know her name.”
I choose not to fill in the
blank for him.
“You're a cuck,” he
tells me, a hint of practiced contempt in his voice.
“Do what, now?”
“I'm a MGTOW,” he says,
with what I imagine to be a kind of subdued pride.....I misunderstand
him at first and think he says, “I'm Big Now.”
“Proud of ya,” I offer.
“It means I'm a Man Going
My Own Way,” he elaborates, correcting what I'd initially
inferred. “I don't need women to make me happy. My eyes are open.
I've taken the Red Pill.”
My first comeback to “I
don't need women to make me happy” might be to respond, “Bodie,
how do you know?” But I guess that would be mean.
“You know, that girl you
like, she'll dump you. You know, that's what they do.” He repeats
it, as if he's trying to implore me to listen. “That's what they
do.”
“Nice to see you've got that
figured out,” I shoot back.
“I do,” he says. “I see
it all the time. It's my world. It always will be.”
“I don't doubt you're
right.”
“Yeah,” he says, in a
quieter voice. Whatever's going on in the next room draws him away,
where I imagine he'll tell everyone out there he's big, now, and that
he's taking red pills. He's no longer trying to pry Gayla's name from
me, so....the desired effect.
*********************************************************************************
As of this writing I've got my irons in
a few fires.....first and foremost “The Abbey of the Lemur” is
BACK!!!! This is our first show since 2014 and we're hitting a string
of milestones....
This is the first-ever episode
of the show where we embrace cellphone technology. The centerpiece
for “Lemurs at Monte Ne” (the 15 minute video of our trip to the
ruins at Monte Ne) was all shot on my phone. It's not great video,
by any stretch, but it's one more stab at putting the production and
dissemination of art and culture in the hands of whoever wants to do
it.
It also marks the first
appearance with written sketches of our little friends, the Devil
Goats, since their brief origin in 2014's “The Megalithic
Bamboozler” Beyond that we just padded it about with old stuff.
Have fun.
Past that, expect two more
episodes in 2017....one will be a tribute to late TAOTL cast member
Adam “Dead Guy” Jardine----the other will be related to our 20th
anniversary on the airwaves in Fayetteville. Past that I couldn't
tell ya, but like Joe Strummer said, “the future is unwritten”.
This also marks the very first
episode of “The Abbey of the Lemur” to be uploaded on to YouTube
in its entirety....all thanks to our wonderful providers at FPTV.
You'll need to sign in to YouTube as an adult to watch it, and that's
just what we gotta do. Prior administrations in the city (perhaps
illegally) didn't offer the privilege of being shared online to VDA
shows, so we're happy to let FPTV set up that precaution.
ENJOY!
*********************************************************************************
The SE Apocalypse Krew's
album----tentatively titled “RISE”----is officially in the can!
Yeah----it only took us 30someodd years!
You're gonna have to wait a
little longer for the official release....right now I'm wrangling
with the visual art aspects and then there are other
logistics....but HEY! Lemme know if you're interested in covering
this thing/reviewing or helping to promote it. Who knows? We could
hook you up.
I'll personally tell you Mike
and I are happy as hell with this beast----and it is a beast. 17
songs in 58 minutes and the thing just BLASTS. Mike had been floating
me dailies on the production and even I wasn't ready for the face
removal that is the final product, mixed and everything else. I spent
over a week with it in the car, blasting it up and down the streets
of Fayettenam. At long last, we're the monster I'd always hoped we'd
be.
Heavy metal sprouted from
the blues, originally, and in some respects, even as it's evolved
into sort of a post-rock'n'roll genre, it is, in a lot of ways,
similar to blues. Metal has its indelible conventions and tropes,
just like blues does---its musicians and fans love these tropes and
conventions and are dedicated to their perpetuation and preservation.
Mike and I, in that respect, are
more jazz guys. Push to shove we'd rather hear someone break from the
old tropes and take things in a direction we don't expect, and we
like to do that ourselves. Not that you can't hear our
influences----you'll hear a little Black Sabbath here, a little Black
Flag there----a little Dead Boys here, a little Jimi Hendrix,
there----a little Wes Montgomery here, etc., etc., etc. And yet at
the same time we're our own animal.
Stay tuned.
Friday, May 19, 2017
THIS WEEK'S HOT NEW FEAR
In the S.E. Apocalypse Krew's song,
“Kid Eternity”, we sing, “pull Dad's gun from the drawer/and
aim it at my head/they'll sue Ozzy and be happy to have someone to
blame”.
Obviously, it's locked into
the zeitgeist of its times----the 80s, the Satanic Panic and all that
happy horseshit. Even back then, no one was going to mistake us for
politically correct. The protagonist of the song practices suicidal
ideation and self-mutilation, literally cutting his nose (or ears)
off to spite his face....or anyone else that irks him. Yeah, we
know....maybe we're coarse, maybe we're insensitive....but that's how
we roll. And at the end of the day, hopefully you learn it's okay to
laugh at everything. Or at least think long and hard about what
you're laughing at.
We knew right from the outset we
were on a collision course with certain easily-offended types and we
were fine with that. Gimme a knee-jerk, pro-censorship person, I'm
probably going to offend them. It always works out that way.....I'm
there.
ON THE OTHER HAND, it's always
an eye-opener when the pro-censorship knee-jerker goes after artists
who DO handle things sensitively!
Care 2 is a Social Networking
Website that brings together activists and enables them to
create petitions and organize campaigns leaning toward human rights,
animal rights, social justice, environmental issues and a variety of
worthwhile rallying points. So it was a surprise to see some
activists utilize Care2 to advocate censorship.
One phrase that Mike and I have
thrown around together since the 80s was “The Hot New Fear”, or
“this week's hot fear” or other such variations on the
subject.....and the hot new fear is always something that's literally
sold like a bottle of mouthwash, and the media will usually jump on
it and harp on it, exploiting it with little to no rational discourse
or serious examination....it's usually some superficial scapegoat in
the arts or entertainment, used to serve as a cultural “band-aid”
to a larger problem people regard as too big to address (or too big
to fail?).
Obviously, around the time we
wrote “Kid Eternity” the Satanic Panic was in full bloom and the
big fear was that if your kids listen to Ozzy Osbourne or Judas
Priest they're going to commit suicide (and to hell with any deeper
examination of issues like home life, mental health, chemical
dependency or whatever---you're a terrible person if you even ask
such questions!)
There have been lots of other handy
fears, though....does your kid play Dungeons and Dragons? It'll turn
the introverted little lamb into a babbling, Occult-practicing
psychotic! Anybody remember the West Memphis 3? Three kids who were
basically railroaded for a child murder due to the fact that they
wore black and listened to Metallica----shit----one or two turns of
circumstance and I coulda been Damien Echols! Natural Born Killers?
Everyone from Bob Dole to John Grisham said it was gonna spawn a
generation of homicidal maniacs. Marilyn Manson? Caused
Columbine---y'know....if you disregard the fact that those two kids
didn't even listen to him....
Today's fresh new fear is
apparently this 13-episode Netflix series, “13 Reasons Why”.
Since this show will apparently be responsible for all your
childrens' deaths, let's bust it out of its virtual box and get a
look at it.
I sat down and binge-watched “13
Reasons Why” (I keep wanting to call it “13 Ways to Die”) a few
weeks ago pretty much based on the fact that I found the premise
interesting. For those of you who haven't been paying attention, “13
Reasons Why” is the story of this high school kid, Hannah Baker,
who kills herself and leaves a series of cassette tapes detailing the
events that led to her suicide to be distributed among the various
parties she considers “responsible”, and as the tapes (and her
narrative) unravel, the lives of those around her, the “accused”,
unravel. Some (most notably the protagonist) are angry, some are
dismayed and others are trying to fight to keep a lid on the whole
thing for fear that it will “destroy the school” ( tenuous
defense of a construct that makes little sense to anyone standing
outside such an asinine bubble world).
Personally, I fucking LOVED this
show.....no ifs, ands or buts. I don't think I was ready for how
smart it was going to be. On one level, yes, it unflinchingly takes
on a lot of the hard issues teens deal with, from harassment to
bullying to rape to gossip to stalking to slut-shaming—on other
levels, while the show, per se, definitely takes Hannah's “side”,
it turns around and shows you that she doesn't necessarily see the
whole picture---some of the events don't necessarily follow her side
of the story and some of the kids in the story aren't necessarily as
bad as she makes them out to be. When there's a scene where she asks
Clay, the main protagonist of the story, if he thinks she could ever
be as pretty as this one other character, homeboy shits in his
wheaties by being like, huh? She walks away and says, “never
mind----you just answered the question,” and we the viewers see
that it's just one more nail in her coffin....but it's a mistake
anyone could make. I could make that mistake. You could make that
mistake.
So, yeah---incredibly smart
show....not only does it nail everything kids are facing in school
from peer pressure to bullying to suicide, to unresponsive authority
figures to an entire culture that bolsters and reinforces the pecking
order, it shows you the bottom line of suicide---the grief of the
parents and friends—the damage left in its wake. The acting is
uniformly great, especially from the two young leads----they'll rip
your heart out.
Does it have the potential to
resonate with young audiences in ways that might make authority
figures uncomfortable? Yeah----it does. After I got done it took me
several days to get “13 Reasons” and its haunted teens the hell
out of my head. But that also begs the question, if authority figures
are uncomfortable with that, what does it say about them? Seriously,
guys----too scary? Too big an issue to deal with?
Sorry, I know----I'm being a
dick about this. But you know what? Having actually lost friends to
suicide, I can be a dick about this.
One thing I was unaware of was
that “13 Reasons Why” is also a popular, best-selling Young Adult
novel that has been revered among young audiences for a decade, now.
I'm not very conversant in the topic of contemporary YA Lit, which is
strange, I guess, as my first novel qualifies, technically, as
“YA”----(and I'm still looking for a publisher----hint, hint!)
(It covers many of the same topics----hint! HINT!)(You can read
excerpts right here on this blog----HINT!!!! HINT!!!!) (Naw----I'm
not self-serving in the least, am I?)-----but it's something I
genuinely have not followed. Apparently it's a sufficiently beloved
book to where, when the TV adaptation was announced, young fans
confronted the producers and told them, in no uncertain terms, “don't
fuck this up!” So obviously, much to the chagrin of some knee-jerk
types, this material hits very close to home. Between the book and
the show, why does this story resonate with kids?
Well, don't believe for a
second it's because the story and themes were generated in a vacuum.
This shit happens all the time----it was going on when I was a kid
way back in the Mesozoic Era, and precious little seems to change.
“13 Reasons” doesn't come by its attacks in a one-dimensional
manner---the parents in the show are not cutout characters. They
genuinely care for and are worried for their kids and frequently find
themselves closed off from genuine communication----and there's no
dressing that up---that's very often on the kids. But I think that
one part of the story that gets under the skin of all the concerned
adults (SPOILERS!!!!) is the last “Reason Why”----the
well-intentioned-but-ineffectual student counselor whose answer to
rape is basically “try to forget about it”.
Does the “culture” of a
school cover up and engage in apologetics for its favored students?
Betcha I can say “yes” faster than you can choke out the word
“Steubenville”....like I said, no one, not the producers of the
show nor the author of the book, pulled this concept out of a vacuum.
Think these notions of hopeless reaching out to an adult authority
figure never happen? Think the authorities are all-knowing sages who
can solve all the problems of youth? Then you have to answer to this:
So where were the concerned
and able adults when this kid was being knocked unconscious in full
view of the security cameras?
Eight years old. EIGHT.
Yeah----good job, authorities.
And ultimately that's the
problem I have with these reactionary activists....rather than
actually reach out and help end the abuses and negligence that helps
motivate kids toward despair, they'd prefer this easier “band-aid”
route-----because taking on the hallowed pecking order is too
hard...and deep down, we all love the blessed, besotted,
motherfucking pecking order down to its
apple-pie-and-stick-shift-drivin' Jesus core, so let's micromanage
and/or ban a TV show, instead.
To quote comedian and political commentator Jimmy Dore, "we're a nation of adult children of alcoholics....we don't get mad at the guy who screwed you over----we get mad at the guy who pointed it out and let you know about the guy screwing you over."
Agreed, Jimmy. Well said.
Go, Hot New Fear, Go! Except
you're never that new, are you? It's the same old shit, over and
over.
Except that maybe, for a
change, things are a little better. Some counselors and
psychiatrists have taken a new approach...they've seen the
“provocative” potential of “13 Reasons” as the opportunity
for a “teaching moment”----parents, watch this with your kids and
take this as an entryway to a dialogue. Listen to your kids. Find out
what's happening in their lives. If what you're seeing on this show
rings true with them, find out why.
SMART. FOR A CHANGE. So, hey,
as grumpy as I get about these things----maybe we can evolve past the
bad old days of the Satanic Panic.
Be nice if someone made sure
the gang at CARE 2 (or at least some of their petitioners) got the
memo.
Wednesday, March 29, 2017
ENTRY
This was "Acquaintance"
Originally
published in THE MOWER. Copyright 1993 C.F. Roberts, 2016 Molotov
Editions
Saturday, March 11, 2017
TURDUCKEN
It
was getting cold out and Billy thought Duke would never show.
Eventually, though, the blue pickup rolled up in front of the
complex.
“Come
in outta the cold, boy,” bellowed Duke. Billy slipped into the
passenger seat. “You in the doghouse again?”
“I
don’t want to talk about it,” said Billy, “just drive.
Somewhere. Anywhere. Just drive.”
Duke
pulled out. “No particular place to go,” he said in a sing-songy
voice—some old tune. Chuck Berry? One of those old rock’n’roll
guys, anyway.
“Beers
in the back,” Duke offered. Billy reached behind the seat and
found the case of cold buds Duke had stashed back there. He didn’t
waste any time popping one. He noticed, now, for the first time that
Duke was steering with one hand, holding a beer in the other.
“You
know, “ Duke drawled after a few minutes, “I don’t give a shit
what you and Alice might be going through tonight. Y’all are gonna
be alright….I know. I like a girl with spirit.
“Shit,
redneck, you like her that much you can have her!”
“Sorry,
kid, I’m off the market,” Duke smiled.
Billy
took another pull off the beer. “Anymore I just think she’s
getting the upper hand in the relationship. I don’t know why it’s
always gotta be a goddamn power struggle.”
“Well,”
said Duke, “there’s some women’s just bent that way. They think
they gotta ‘train’ their men.”
“Yeah,
well, she’s gonna learn, I’m not here to be trained,” said
Billy.
Duke
laughed. “I know you’re deep in it, now—maybe you’ll pull
past it tomorrow or maybe next week, but you kids have got a good
thing….I know y’all fight now and again…”
“Now
and again,” huffed Billy, taking another pull off the beer.
“I
know y’all fight every now and again,” Duke repeated the phrase,
louder and more firmly, as if he were trying to override Billy, “but
that’s a good thing. You wanna stay real and grounded with your
woman, and sometimes you just gotta have these knock-down-drag-outs.
Me an’ Marlene have been together twenty goddamn years ---she
stayed there for me the whole goddamn time I was in the big house.”
“Yeah,
yeah, yeah,” muttered Billy.
“Well,”
shrugged Duke, “yeah, yeah, yeah! I been around the block, I’ve
had good times, I’ve had bad times, I’ve done hard time, which is
the slowest time, the worst kind of time…I think I know whereof I
speak…I ain’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I know a few
things!”
“Maybe
so,” sighed Billy, deflating. “Just…when I know what earthly
good the knock-down-drag-outs produce, maybe….”he trailed off and
shook his head.
“I’ll
try and bring my tea leaves and help you read ‘em kid,” Duke
laughed. “You’ll be alright---ain’t nothing you two are goin’
through that folks ain’t been goin’ through since Biblical Times.
Pass me another one of them beers, willya?”
The
two men cruised on through the countryside for some time, shooting
the shit on any number of subjects---how Meadows, the bullet-headed
little sonofabitch, ever could have made assistant foreman; the
lottery and whether either one of them would ever win it and what
they might do with the money if they did; how the Hogs, as good as
the season was going, would probably never have a championship
program again; Alice’s obsession with “Dancing with the Stars”.
Midway through “Dancing with the Stars”. Duke slammed on the
brakes.
“Shit,”
yelled Billy.
“Deer,”
said Duke. Billy saw the deer wandering back off the road into the
trees.
“Christ,”
said Billy, “just keep on telling the goddamn Democrats hunting is
cruelty and we can’t thin the herds!”
“I’d
like to have thinned out the herd right there,” said Duke, taking
his foot off the brake, “if it wouldn’t have cost me my
truck….know how long it’s been since I had me some venison
chili?”
“I
never cared a whole lot for deer, personally,” said Billy. Relaxing
again. “I like my meat tender.”
“Tender
like your women?” Chuckled Duke. Billy shot him a wounded look,
which made him laugh even harder. “Oh, now don’t start cryin’
on me---I’m just bustin’ your balls. Venison chili’s real good,
Billy, you’d like it---you need to let it simmer and carmelize
overnight. Nice’n’tender.”
“Hey,”
said Billy, switching gears, “what are the chances of your running
by Wally World? I gotta pick us up a turkey for Thanksgiving.”
Duke’s
eyes twinkled. “You sure you kids are gonna make it to
Thanksgiving?”
“Shit,”
said Billy, rolling his eyes.
“I
think I can swing that trip for ya,” said Duke. “You know, me
and Marlene are doing a Turducken this year!”
“Tur-what?!”
“A
Turducken! That’s a chicken stuffed in a duck stuffed in a turkey!
It’s a Turducken!”
“Shit,”
said Billy, “that’s like a bad wreck---you can’t identify the
bodies, because you can’t tell where one bird ends and the other
begins!” Duke laughed. “Turducken, huh?”
“Turducken,”
laughed Duke.
Billy
smiled, then turned halfway and felt around in back. “I think
we’re all outta beers, buddy…”
“Uh-oh!”
“Figure
maybe we could swing back around to the liquor store?”
“ Doubt
it,” said Duke, “it’s after midnight!”
“Well,
shit.”
“Oh,
it’s alright, I got more back at the house,” Duke said.
“Cool.”
A possum waddled out into the road. Duke swerved to avoid it.
“Goddamn,
Mister Compassionate, let’s get back to the house in one piece,”
yelled Billy.
“Nature’s
little speedbumps,” sighed Duke, his heart sinking back down from
his throat. It was then that a set of headlights pulled out behind
them and caught up with them fast.
“That’s
a cop,” said Billy.
“I’ve
been drinkin’ off and on all day,” said Duke.
“It’s
cool,” said Billy. “Just drive straight, play it cool.”
“I
got a quarter in the glove compartment” Billy was now sensing the
agitation in Duke’s voice.
“Man,
it’s alright,” said Billy. “You think they’re gonna be able
to search you if you don’t let ‘em? You think they’re gonna
want to do the paperwork? Just play it cool!”
“They’re
on us,” rasped Duke. He was looking alarmed, now.
“Dammit,
Duke,” cried Billy. “You draw these kinds of things to
yourself…Alice told me about that---some shit on Oprah!”
“Oprah?!
What the fuck are you talkin’ about, Billy?!”
“If
you think you’re gonna get caught, then you’re gonna get caught!”
“What
the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Behind them, the cop turned on
the blues.
“Okay,”
said Billy, “just pull over. Remember—you don’t have to let
them search you!”
“Fuck
that shit,” yelled Duke. He floored it, just as they hit the
Leatherwood Curves.
“I’m
not goin’ back to the joint!”
“No,
you’re not,” said Billy. “Duke, Jesus Christ, you’re making
this something we can’t get out of!”
“I’m
not going back,” screamed Duke as the cops gave chase. “I have a
good life, it’s not ending like this!”
Duke
was going so fast at this point that he nearly blew the guard rail.
Turducken, Billy thought again. A carload of joyriding high school
kids came around the bend and that was the last thing Billy knew.
Saturday, February 18, 2017
THREE FOR VAN GOGH
AGONY AND ECSTACY IN THE YELLOW
HOUSE
gestation and
cross pollination
combustible elements
volatile combinations
gaugin a wild animal, whoring and partying
alive in the language of the world
vincent like a monk with laser intent
hitting the canvas with fever dream furor
vincent the idealist where the man who threw the book away
walked into an arrangement with the man
who had no idea there was a book to begin with
masterpieces and insurrection
mangled body parts in
a house of cards
collapsing
2/16/17
THE STRAIGHT MAN'S BURDEN
(for Theo)
when the fits have been thrown and the
brawls have been won or lost
that one human alarm clock pulls us
back in despite constant protests
when the parties and the dutiful
gatekeepers let out existential sighs
take out their brooms and start in on
the broken glass
it's these straight men in our
respective routines
the ones who mop up after our
collective disasters
who take the brickbats, who shoulder
the burden of our crazy
babysitting us for little to no payoff
who suffer through our mood swings, our
drinking and drugging,
our bipolar crests and troughs
who are there even when we're not
the good conductors who do their best
to make sure the trains hit
the station on time
2/11/17 rev. 2/16/17
STENDAHLING
lost in
firestorm representation
hails of
orange and yellow as trees
i can see
the rage and obsession
gesture art
my tradition i look at
how the
paint lands on canvas
that's
where i go first
brushstrokes as a sickness makes
me sick you
could say i'm
down with
that sickness and i
know,
vincent, i know
figures
emerging from a sheet of oil and
what the
hell were you thinking
how did you
arrive at this?
the cosmos
spins and roars while a
tiny
village sleeps
i
know---how can they sleep?
hexed by
crows in a cornfield,
gun to the
heart
i know,
i know, i know.
i know,
i know, i know.
2/16/17 rev. 2/18/17
BLACK SABBATH-Sabbath Bloody Sabbath
BLACK SABBATH-Sabotage
GHOST-Meliora
THE VELVET UNDERGROUND-The Velvet Underground and Nico
Monday, January 2, 2017
POSTMORTEM: BAGGING AND TAGGING 2016
It's late December as I start writing
this and we're coming up on all that Auld Lang Syne nonsense that
helps us compartmentalize our lives into digestible blocks of time
for posterity or whatever. Bag and tag it, it's done.
I'm probably competing with
every sentient being in the Western World in my commentary on 2016,
and yeah, yeah, I know, it was awful, eighty billion celebrities died
and now we're all supposed to be mad at those tricky Russians who
(allegedly) rigged our election by proving that the Democrats were
unethical and rigged their primary. Or something to that effect. But
I'm going to put another spin on it, and my grumpy ass is gonna be
nice for a change.
2016, for me, was actually a
pretty good year....I think that the jumping off point for me is that
I tend to evaluate what happened over the course of a year by what I
did, what I accomplished and so on. As such, I really liked 2016. I
got to go back east and visit family members, some of whom I hadn't
seen in a decade, some of whom I may never see again. I got to record
vocals for my old band and we're going to release the damn thing as
an album (Look out, everybody). Exciting new friendships happened,
bonds were forged and I got to act in a movie. Rounding out the year,
I got to help plan my first solo show as a visual artist.
My wife got to attend this kickass
film festival in New York, she got to meet lots of longtime friends
face-to-face for the first time and she solidified some new
friendships; she appeared in a horror anthology and did her
first-ever book signing; she got named music and culture editor for
DIABOLIQUE, appeared on eighty bazillion podcasts and got involved in
a whole slew of projects that will see the light of day in the coming
months.
We're counting our blessings,
because there've been quite a few.
Most people were bothered by
the seemingly endless list of celebrity deaths this past year and
yeah---we lost some heroes and some muses, to the point where a lot
of folks were crying, “2016, stop killing people!” To me, 2015
was worse on that front, and I may have been yelling that a bit last
year because we lost actual family and friends. My cousin gave me the
best reality check ever when he told me, “shit happens, people die
and I don't really assign blame to years for that.” And I may have
lost an aunt that year, but he lost a mother---so if anyone was able
to make that call, it was him.
I was made aware, over the last
week or two, of the condition called Apophenia, which is the tendency
to perceive meaningful patterns within random data, e.g., to perceive
patterns where there are none. It's a human condition----we all do it
from time to time. This won't be the last time I mention it. Years
aren't predatory entities....they don't actively hunt and kill
people. I think I learned that in 9th grade Biology.
For the most part, of course,
few if any of us actually believe that. We're talking
figuratively---I just got tired of the figurative talk back in
February or March.
As for celebrities? We miss
who we miss, but celebrities have been dying since there were
celebrities, and you can expect that to continue.
And yeah, the election was a
dumpster fire, but they all are, realistically. I'm no fan of the
loud orange guy, but I got through Nixon, Reagan, both Bushes,
Clinton pushing through NAFTA, GATT and the Telecommunications Act
and repealing Glass-Steagall, Obama flushing Habeas Corpus down the
toilet....we got this. My hope for all my lefty-liberal friends in
the coming four years is that they'll all have a common Boogeyman,
which will be nice-----'cause every time Uncle Barack messes with
civil liberties they seem to conveniently ignore it....so that's
something to look forward to.
So we're walking into 2017
without negativity and hoping the seeds we've sewn bear some awesome
fruit. Wishing peace, joy, action and prosperity for alla you and
yours.
TYPE O NEGATIVE-Bloody Kisses
TYPE O NEGATIVE-World Coming Down
RUSH-R40
RICK AND MORTY-Various Episodes
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