I want to be part of society so very, very badly. During my marriage in the 1990's I self indulged to the extreme. I did not care at all about my life. I spent everything I had on a good feeling, which was also the worst feeling of all time. The sickness of narcotics addiction took away my wife and my freedom. I cared about nobody else but my self, always. Though it has always been possible to fight off the grief and emptiness our overall society never took me back into its fold completely, because I never used my education to really try to get a job. I set off on a voyage of sheer madness determined that I could beat the world by never bowing down and doing the right thing. I already had a great gift, and I cast it aside out of pride and vainglory.
I have been made to witness my own oversight so that I be humbled. Nothing that I do is private. Every single flaw of my character, every single slip of physical hygiene, all of these things are made public after having the gall to antagonize society. The shame of failing in the local community arrives at utter revealment when there are no opportunities for advancement. Everything can, and is, taken away from a felon.
There is no end to the parody that has been made of me. All of the writing that I do, all of the music that I make, the very few pieces of visual art, these things are worthless. A lifetime of slithering around in snake skin fools no one, and the travesties mount up. The worst sort of winner does so without care for the truth.
I reached a point of utter expulsion from everyone, of clear mind and body awareness, today. Financial ruin from dishonesty and failure to pay heed to the great gifts given by God can be reversed. Lip service to the church will absolutely not save from damnation, and it will not make a difference being completely cut off from contact with women. Full prayer from the heart will save regardless of any social ties, regardless of any boundaries. Women wanting a man who is financially successful does not mean a flaw in character. A man who can not provide is revealed to be worthless and exposed.
The vow of poverty I took 23 years ago makes me somewhat immune to complete lack of opulence. I once and for all have kissed that horrid atrocity goodbye. Making up for all of the problems caused by the negativity will take a lifetime of work. Everything went wrong when I embraced my own ego over companionship. I chose self-pleasure over teamwork and instant gratification over slowly built rewards. There is no quick fix or quick release to one who has entrapped himself. There is only toil to the marrow.
I see myself very clearly. I am not unpleasing to the eye. I have only begun to see a way to live up to the expectations of the multitudes, the unseen eyes. I alone failed. Through careful attention to guidance I will eventually succeed in my second chance.
To thine own self be true.
[Can't we all agree just agree the man lost his teeth in "combat"? Do we have to go all the way back through colonial records to find out exactly what happened? He obviously could only tell the truth.]
The metatag here is "fiction"
Warm Song
This song is called Whoa Kin 2 Mucher Itty. I just performed and put the finishing touches on it last night. The guitar, bass riffs and lines, and synth track, are deamped to subharmonic levels. I'll release the originals on that *see bottom. In-the-room electric sound didn't go with the lyrics. Available for listening from the source right now. The archive also converts the file to all media player formats, at some indeterminate rate.
Text link:
http://www.archive.org/details/WhoaKin2MucherItty
If anybody happens upon a still functional Internet in a country with electricity in the distant future and reads this, and by some chance ever manages to hear this song, you should know that there is no way you can make fun of it first. I beat you to it. I eviscerated it, as per my usual routine. You can do your worst, but you'll be on a path I cleared for you.
On the instrumental and synthesizer mix- I mixed and rendered every track up the ladder to the lyrics. I did not play and sing as I did with Burnt Paper (which I never recorded, but will attempt again if destiny permits). I used a microphone pickup on the instrumentals, as my amp needs a new plug. Making it usable was a feat, and future music will have much better audio qualities. It's only 45 seconds long. I'll rebuild the synthesizer and guitar effects portion tonight. It's a lot denser than the naked ear can hear. The riff. Guitar effects. More background sound.
Text link:
http://www.archive.org/details/WhoaKin2MucherItty
If anybody happens upon a still functional Internet in a country with electricity in the distant future and reads this, and by some chance ever manages to hear this song, you should know that there is no way you can make fun of it first. I beat you to it. I eviscerated it, as per my usual routine. You can do your worst, but you'll be on a path I cleared for you.
On the instrumental and synthesizer mix- I mixed and rendered every track up the ladder to the lyrics. I did not play and sing as I did with Burnt Paper (which I never recorded, but will attempt again if destiny permits). I used a microphone pickup on the instrumentals, as my amp needs a new plug. Making it usable was a feat, and future music will have much better audio qualities. It's only 45 seconds long. I'll rebuild the synthesizer and guitar effects portion tonight. It's a lot denser than the naked ear can hear. The riff. Guitar effects. More background sound.
Antichambered
Melody flows in Antichambered. I ran through about 100 minutes of this with lyrics. I decided not to release any singing. Here's the song free of my poetry and vocal talent. I may sing for this in the future under a different title. Never have liked my voice, so there isn't one.
Flowers in the Sewer
This is the way we feel
But you do it better
You feel it better
Moving softly, your chest heaves
Your eyes are wetter
Warm tones are shelter
Some people know the way you feel
But no one says it, ever
No one says it, ever
Any who thought they brought the storm
Lost all knowing
When it started blowing
Growing slowly, time will heal
Everything deadened
Emotions deadened
Spirit fills up emptiness
And then you're better
And then you're better
Tears will dry, and smiles return
I hope no one has to learn
The way that I learned
The way that I burned
Don't find out ever
Don't find out ever
I hope no one has to learn
The hardest way to learn
By the whole world spurned
This is the way I feel
And nothing says it better
Than a kiss goodbye
It's oh so clever
It's oh so clever
This is the way we feel
But you do it better
You feel it better
This is the way I feel
And nothing says it better
And nothing says it better
[all set to C, G and E (sigh)]
*
Amelia Earhart Phoned Ugedei Late
"There is nothing in the Universe more alone than Man. He has entered into the strange world of history." - Loren Eiseley
Having just finished reading the Hugo and Nebula Award Winner by David Brin, Startide Rising, I can say that initially I completely misjudged the book. It was almost 30 hours after I finished it that I really got it. It was a lot of fun. I've spent so much time on serious subjects lately that the light hearted part of the work, which was the greater part of it, completely went over my head.
The literary dynamics of the work were still very educational. Science fiction has never seemed more like a tool for spreading a love of science than with this work. The benefits and enjoyment of scientific knowledge and theory needs just such a vector from time to time.
-
"There is nothing left for me. I will overcome this light sword or go down the greatest statesman." - Words of a dead great statesman who did not manage to overcome the power of firearms.
Two more months of living off of Department of Defense MRE's has proven just how good they are. Quite healthy. I wonder what the daily meals were like in Abbottabad.
But you do it better
You feel it better
Moving softly, your chest heaves
Your eyes are wetter
Warm tones are shelter
Some people know the way you feel
But no one says it, ever
No one says it, ever
Any who thought they brought the storm
Lost all knowing
When it started blowing
Growing slowly, time will heal
Everything deadened
Emotions deadened
Spirit fills up emptiness
And then you're better
And then you're better
Tears will dry, and smiles return
I hope no one has to learn
The way that I learned
The way that I burned
Don't find out ever
Don't find out ever
I hope no one has to learn
The hardest way to learn
By the whole world spurned
This is the way I feel
And nothing says it better
Than a kiss goodbye
It's oh so clever
It's oh so clever
This is the way we feel
But you do it better
You feel it better
This is the way I feel
And nothing says it better
And nothing says it better
[all set to C, G and E (sigh)]
*
Amelia Earhart Phoned Ugedei Late
"There is nothing in the Universe more alone than Man. He has entered into the strange world of history." - Loren Eiseley
Having just finished reading the Hugo and Nebula Award Winner by David Brin, Startide Rising, I can say that initially I completely misjudged the book. It was almost 30 hours after I finished it that I really got it. It was a lot of fun. I've spent so much time on serious subjects lately that the light hearted part of the work, which was the greater part of it, completely went over my head.
The literary dynamics of the work were still very educational. Science fiction has never seemed more like a tool for spreading a love of science than with this work. The benefits and enjoyment of scientific knowledge and theory needs just such a vector from time to time.
-
"There is nothing left for me. I will overcome this light sword or go down the greatest statesman." - Words of a dead great statesman who did not manage to overcome the power of firearms.
Two more months of living off of Department of Defense MRE's has proven just how good they are. Quite healthy. I wonder what the daily meals were like in Abbottabad.
Dallas Convention
This has nothing to do with double domes. The second largest anime convention in the United States, AnimeFest, kicks off Labor Day weekend. It's in the great state of Texas, up there with all the cowpokes in the northern part of the state, the Dallas-Fort Worth area. Yep, they have cows, anime and, once upon a time, double domes. Now just cows and anime. So fkn wrong... Texas has way more stuff -- they have cars now (I'm just jealous. Austin = paradise by comparison to cribtown). Meanwhile, some of us (um, me) are trapped in the middle of nowhere, trying to get back to a relatively civilized metropolis.
Senseless Justice Idiom
The judge said to the former prisoner of war, "I just saw you outside city hall last week. I don't know if you know this, but you were being followed by a belly dancer. You had fallen half upon one hip and on you're right knee turning to look around. She pranced away." The honorable former U. S. Army Ranger said, "I sensed something, but I did not know that. I can not see behind me." The woman, far away, knew that she ran because she was concerned for his well being and her own. She had not pranced, only stepped nimbly and lightly to a set of stairs to the safety of the shadows.
The Slow Motion Dash
Before dorm rooms at the university sported air conditioners, lazy heat drifted into South Louisiana and little stood in the way of it. In the old sections of town people would sit on their front porches in the late afternoon to catch the extra breezes. The whole world turned a deep dark green for a short while in spring. After that the vegetation began to look dusty and thirsty, and few years went by when the amount of rain seemed to be enough.
Down the old Dutch Highlands Road in the 1970's a building with "Turkish Baths" painted on the side gave mute testimony to the fate of businesses considered out of step with Southern culture. How such a business opened in the first place was more curious than the fact that it closed down. The building stood on a bluff with those words and barred doors for more than a decade. Nobody ever came or went from the abandoned structure.
The old town never changed very quickly. Many years would pass by with the landscape and buildings almost seeming to be on display, unchanged, in a big glass terrarium. Unless one paid close attention few alterations could be seen taking place.
Looking at such a nearly static lifestyle one may wonder how many local youths want to accelerate time, to force moments to a climax, to bring changes into existence. The snail's pace of fulfillment eventually catches up with those who wait. Many hold the belief that a shifting temporal perspective comes with age, and time seems to pass faster over the years. Perhaps it all depends on the person. Those who wait never see the clock race, and those who know true bliss sometimes wish they could make it stop.
-
Notes:
1. While working on Step Too lines were reused from Gift, the film featuring Jane's Addiction. The samples were simple dialog, and were recreated, but credit needed to be given. The movie is anti-drug in a very real way. The song was meant to convey the sense of ad nauseum vocal repetition common to pharmaceutical addicts.
2. Downtown Baton Rouge is basically a WiFi dead zone. There's one spot. Some of us dream about the old promises of free net access, and wake up in cold sweats. Old farts...
Down the old Dutch Highlands Road in the 1970's a building with "Turkish Baths" painted on the side gave mute testimony to the fate of businesses considered out of step with Southern culture. How such a business opened in the first place was more curious than the fact that it closed down. The building stood on a bluff with those words and barred doors for more than a decade. Nobody ever came or went from the abandoned structure.
The old town never changed very quickly. Many years would pass by with the landscape and buildings almost seeming to be on display, unchanged, in a big glass terrarium. Unless one paid close attention few alterations could be seen taking place.
Looking at such a nearly static lifestyle one may wonder how many local youths want to accelerate time, to force moments to a climax, to bring changes into existence. The snail's pace of fulfillment eventually catches up with those who wait. Many hold the belief that a shifting temporal perspective comes with age, and time seems to pass faster over the years. Perhaps it all depends on the person. Those who wait never see the clock race, and those who know true bliss sometimes wish they could make it stop.
-
Notes:
1. While working on Step Too lines were reused from Gift, the film featuring Jane's Addiction. The samples were simple dialog, and were recreated, but credit needed to be given. The movie is anti-drug in a very real way. The song was meant to convey the sense of ad nauseum vocal repetition common to pharmaceutical addicts.
2. Downtown Baton Rouge is basically a WiFi dead zone. There's one spot. Some of us dream about the old promises of free net access, and wake up in cold sweats. Old farts...
Burned Words, Burnt Paper
Walked down a twisted and dusty path,
From a humble and leaning camp,
Beside it a cold stream gave birds baths,
Next to grass cool and damp.
At the bottom the sluice cut sharply away,
The valley opened up to the clouds,
Clover and bluebells grew from dark clay,
In the gravel in foamy shrouds.
Bees hovered over delicate plants,
Hummingbirds whisked their wings,
Goose bumps raised by her devilish glance,
And the feeling that only spring brings.
Out of the south the warmth blew in
Small animals capered out
Only two cats and one dog chased sin
And our hearts let go a quick shout.
Chorus:
Golden thoughts, golden sighs, blue, green and brown eyes
Wispy clouds in the sky
Shadows gray, shadowed glow, opened windows
Mating doves playing shy.
Across the bright valley, high up on a ridge,
A cabin opened its door.
A rooster perched on a lower cottage,
Squawked and mustered its store--d up call
(now if I could just remember how to read and write music *__*)
[brief discussion of digital music]
From a humble and leaning camp,
Beside it a cold stream gave birds baths,
Next to grass cool and damp.
At the bottom the sluice cut sharply away,
The valley opened up to the clouds,
Clover and bluebells grew from dark clay,
In the gravel in foamy shrouds.
Bees hovered over delicate plants,
Hummingbirds whisked their wings,
Goose bumps raised by her devilish glance,
And the feeling that only spring brings.
Out of the south the warmth blew in
Small animals capered out
Only two cats and one dog chased sin
And our hearts let go a quick shout.
Chorus:
Golden thoughts, golden sighs, blue, green and brown eyes
Wispy clouds in the sky
Shadows gray, shadowed glow, opened windows
Mating doves playing shy.
Across the bright valley, high up on a ridge,
A cabin opened its door.
A rooster perched on a lower cottage,
Squawked and mustered its store--d up call
(now if I could just remember how to read and write music *__*)
[brief discussion of digital music]
The Brixton Bustle
Performance art:
1. Carried a fiberglass mold of a bizarrely shaped yet unmistakably female 2.5 miles down a higway posing with it as waves of traffic passed. The mold is of a nude woman and has the makings of breasts, but there's nothing pornographic about it. Delivered a broken (the mold was heavy [had to breathe]) but running monologue based on the Monty Python skit about rappelling down the street. No innocents were harmed during the performance that took place during a school day. Some of the passing people may have had disquieted reactions though.2. Walked around at night playing my bass guitar and singing. The guitar has reflectors on it. The reflectors are, of course, to keep from getting run over in the dark. The project was a success. That may have been disappointing to any who hope for your author's demise).
3. I cut up stacks of magazines, saving all of the flesh and eyes in the photographs. Making very large collage and leaving it outside in view of traffic after every five hours put into it. Soon to begin overlapping all the seams with cut out slivers of sentences and paragraphs in the shape of a large tree. Ever so slightly lewd, but very eye catching.4. Drew a piece of pen and pencil art in a notebook I found on the steps of Peabody Hall on campus at our university. The notebook said Class of 2011. Maybe I shouldn't have done that, considering my graduate status. I just couldn't help myself. I signed it SQRB.
5. Read from Petite Madam, by Andre Lichtenberger, in French, until reaching the sexiest chapter (which is to say the most boring chapter). Read from a Spanish book of poetry, which I am much more fluent in (and felt violated), then attempted to switch back to French. Read from a lasciviously dull Italian work. By that time every third word was fairly hilarious. Nobody caught the sexy part, including myself.
6. [Very old] Fake coconut milk: Took one gag unsealed aluminum can. Filled it with camel milk. Added one teaspoon of coconut extract. Sealed the lid and labeled Coconut Milk. Waited for the reaction when virgin piña coladas had that extra little something. Made sure in advance nobody involved was lactose intolerant or allergic to camel milk.
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