The Loose End

Because sometimes we forget how cool our childhood was...and how fast time catches up to us All.

2007-01-27T19:27:00.000-06:00

I found this on MYSPACE but you know what.. its definately worth remembering and reposting here.

Anybody under the age of 13 should not read this, and if you do, you should not repost this.

Just because you were born in '97 doesn't mean you're a 90's kid.

It's not like you could remember the original Simpsons.
I am sorry but three conscious years of the 90's just wont cut it.

You're a 90's kid if:You can finish this [ice ice _ _ _ _ ]

You remember watching Doug, Ren & Stimpy, Pinky and the Brain

AAAAAAAH Real Monsters!

You've ever ended a sentence with the word "PSYCHE!"

You just cant resist finishing this . . . "Iiiiiiin west philidelphia born and raised . . .

"You remember TGIF, Step by Step, Family Matters, Dinosaurs, and Boy Meets World.

You remember when it was actually worth getting up earlyon a Saturday to watch cartoons.

You got super excited when it was Oregon Trail day in computer class at school.

You remember reading "Goosebumps"

You took plastic cartoon lunch boxes to school.

You still get the urge to say "NOT" after (almost) every sentence . . . not

when everyhting was settled by rock paper scissors..or bubble gum bubble gum in a dish...and even better daddy had a donkey inky binky bonky, and catch a tiger by his toe.

when cops and robbers or cowboys and indians was a daily activity.

when we played Hide and go seek until our legs grew numb.

when we used to obey our parents

You used to listen to the radio all day long just to record your FAVORITE song of ALL time.

"Where in the World is Carmen San Diego?" was both a game and a TV game show.

Captain Planet. He's a Hero.

You knew that Kimberly, the pink ranger, and Tommy, the green ranger, were meant to be together.

You remember when Super Nintendos and Sega Genisis became popular.

You always wanted to send in a tape to America's Funniest Home Videos . . . but never taped anything funny.

You remember watching Home Alone 1, 2 , and 3 . . . and tried to pull the pranks on "intruders"

You remember watching The Magic School Bus, Wishbone, and Reading Rainbow on PBS.

You remember when Yo-Yos were cool.

You remember those Where's Waldo books.

You remember eating Warheads.

You remember watching the 1st Land Before Time, The Neverending Story, Batman, Aladin, Ninja Turtles, and 3 Ninjas movies.

You remember Ring Pops.

You remember drinking Surge, Ovaltine and Tang.

If you remember when every thing was "da BOMB!"

When they made the new lunchables so that you could make pizza AND tacos.

You remember boom boxes vs. cd players.

Making those little paper fortune cookie things, and then predicting your life with them.

You played and/or collected "Pogs"

You had at least one Tamagotchi, GigaPet, or Nano and brought it everywhere.. . . Furbies.

You haven't always had a computer, and it was cool to have the internet.

And Windows 95 was the best.

You watched the original cartoons of Rugrats, Power Rangers, and Ninja Turtles.

Michael Jordan was a king.

YIKES pencils and erasers were the stuff!

All your school supplies were "Lisa Frank" brand.

You remember when the new Beanie Babies and Talking Elmo were always sold out.

You collected those Beanie Babies.

Carebears and GummiBears were early morning entertainment on the disney channel before school.

Gak was the coolest stuff invented.

Lambchop's song never ended.

The old dollar bills.

Silver dollars, which were cool to have.

You remember a time before the WB.

You collected all the Troll dolls

If you even know what an original walkman is.

You remember wanting to sit on the orange Nickelodeon couch.

You've gotten creeped out by "Are You Afraid of the Dark?"

You know the Macarena by heart.

"Talk to the hand" . . . enough said

You always said, "Then why don't you marry it!"

You know the significance of the number 23.

You went to McDonald's to play in the playplace.

You remember playing on merry go rounds at the playground.

Before the MySpace frenzy

. . .Before the Internet & text messaging

. . .Before Sidekicks & iPods

. . .Before MIKE JONES

. . .Before PlayStation2 or X-BOX

. . .Before Spongebob

. . .Back when you put off the 5 hours of homework you had every night.

When Greenday and Blink 182 were PUNK not POP

When light up sneakers were cool.

When you rented VHS tapes, not DVDs.

When gas was $0.95 a gallon & Caller ID was a new thing.

When we recorded stuff on VCRs.

When we called the radio station to request songs to hear off of our walkmans.

Way back.

Before we realized all this would eventually disappear.

Who would have thought you'd miss the 90's so much!!!!!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Damn... Is this how it feels to grow old???

Nestalgias a bitch with twisted sense of humor. I want to hang on to everything, Call me a pack-rat.. i call myself a romantic.

an apology to my fictitious audience

2007-01-21T18:56:00.000-06:00

Hello ladies and gentelmen.

Id like to take this time to apologize for my neglect and absence. And to my co-writer i sincerely apologize for lack of input on our current attempt at a new story for i have been nose deep in re-routing my knowledge of my career. I've had to dig hard and dig deep to stay in the game. Some would call this baptism by fire and it may be that, but just know this my pretend/ invisible audience who'll hopefully really exist out there someday. That i am having the time of my life and am only seeking to better myself in my field of study. To give you an example as to what exactly it is that i've had my nose buried in lately ill direct you to this site which acts as a users guide to part of what i do http://www.spot3d.com/vray/help/150R1/ . If you look at this link youll understand why i've been so preoccupied recently.

Fight

2007-01-14T16:30:00.000-06:00

Though the weather outside is freezing and the state has turned to ice but I am here burning, not because I am inside where it is toasty, rather my heat comes from deep inside me where hellfire burns. I am tortured by the sins of my past but winds come in a redemptive wave, picking me up off my feet and sweeping me to greater ground. I am weak, this I do not deny but where my body has failed me, and where my mind ceases to travel, my soul shall press on. I will grow stronger by leaps and by bounds. The demons that plague me, those vile serpents clinging to the deepest regions of flesh, coiled around arthritic bones, have awaken thunder, wrathful, and waged battle immortal against the strongest of the strong. The body is now and so is the mind with it but the soul is immortal, with a fierce resolution. What will is this that has the power to defy God? And the Antichrist whose handsome smile parades amongst the hosts of a thousands demon souls, secretly scowls, trembling in fear of this soul. A battle this way comes. The march of Gog and Magog shakes the earth. Where is Gia to hide? As man has authority over man and binds him with barbwire words of 'can't' and 'won't', the Father gives true authority and frees man with the power of 'can' and 'will'. What have you Satan over us? For we can do what no angel, fallen or otherwise, can, that is, become like God! Envy us for we are more powerful than you! Still this fire deep inside me burns. It devours my flesh, it turns my mind to ash, but it does not destroy my soul for it is my soul! Now I turn to the world and to the armies of Gog and Magog and warn that if any man or demon should stand in defiance before me then he shall be incinerated by the will of my soul!

Mind Rot 2

2007-01-11T20:45:00.000-06:00

The child hovers close, her skin has peeled revealing the soft pink meat beneath and I...I sit in a pool of blood belonging to the two lovers I murdered. My eyes a glaze, empty, ravaged by rage and envy. She laughs at me. Her tiny hands covering her mouth, her shoulders bouncing.

Nothing has changed.

I don't respond. My body is limp against the side of a bed. The bed, now soaked in a thick crimson sauce, forever stained by my actions. In this bed only moments ago there had been two souls uniting passionately, violently, now these souls are no more and the bodily casing--that infinitely divisible box of sin-- lies upon the floor, motionless, passionless.

Nothing has changed.

Her words bore there way into my skull. The little girl, that demon, says the only thing I know but wish to deny. Everything has changed and deep inside my soul I know that everything is the same. Death has not freed me from my sins but has instead enslaved me forever to live out this same hell life after every goddamn life.

The child reaches out her hand as if to help me up. To this I am skeptical, does she mean to help me? I spring upon the girl grasping her head in my hands. With pressure and with pride I twist. Vividly I remember there is a crunch, resistance, then a snap. Beneath the skin of my fingertips I can feel her neck break. Still I feel the vibration of bone bending to my wrathful will. She drops against me, her weight (though she can't be more than ninety pounds) feels like a truck upon me. I push her away catching a glimpse of her face as she falls to the ground. She is smiling.

Nothing has changed

To Those New to This World

2006-10-24T22:02:00.000-05:00

Brave frail ones I give you this warning. As the day passes on and the moon rises high the men who know of what is to come hide away from the dangers of the night. They say not a word and leave the innocent to fend for themselves. The strong survive and the weak perish before dawn arises the next morn. So take heed frail ones, brave as you are, the night hides beasts and creatures not easily seen in this world. And when the sun rises high they burrow deep to hide their grim eyes. If you continue in your search you will find your path difficult and rapturous. You will find destiny in the end no matter the odds. But beware, beware I tell you, of the creatures in this life that await to tear you from your dreams. They are deceptive in their trickery and dishonest in their truthfulness. Pay no attention to their lies. They appear as men and they appear as women but they are demons in the end. Stay true to yourself and you will never lose your way.

Whispers in the Dark

2006-10-17T22:00:00.000-05:00

Whispers in the dark
Cry baby cry
The darkness hides what the light reveals
Shadows cross upon the veil of mystique
Disguise the truth
Hide and run
Secrets kept within the hunter’s palm
This vessel knows of what you fear
Eyes aglow
Cry baby cry
Whispers in the dark
What do they say?
“You know nothing of your world.”
“You cry and thus you shall betray a loved one tonight”
“Your mother shall die soon”
Whispers in the dark
Cry baby cry
For they speak the truth
The hunter in your room is sent to kill
He feeds upon the blood of innocence
He knows the world all too well
and longs only to be what he never shall be again
Innocent and young
Violating and vicious are his methods
Cry baby cry
Bring mommy to your side so that the hunter shall feed
Whispers in the dark
He will give you new life
Never shall you fear again
Pain no more
Blood forever
Cry baby cry
For you will know the pain of everlasting youth
Centuries shall pass and eventually you’ll forget this night
The night the whispers in the dark caused you to call mommy
into the fanged darkness of pain and the night you were
permitted to enter the land of the dead-men
Whispers in the dark
Cry baby cry.
For this shall be the last time you feel the warmth of tears upon your cheeks.

Duality

2006-10-16T16:36:00.000-05:00

It is my belief that it is required of all men and women to aspire to a goal beyond themselves. Each member of the human race should, because it is their duty, become greater than what they are. Transend yourself and evolve into a higher being. To me the ultimate goal is to be semifer/semideus. That is, half savage/half divine. Man is mortal and bound to this earth yet, he is also above it as his sould lives forever.

In many creation stories it the combination of what is feral with what is supreme that makes us human. In the ancient epic poem of the Enuma Elish the sun god, Marduk, killed Kingu and mixed his divine blood with the dust of the earth to create humanity. Romulus and Remus where born of the god Mars yet raised by a she wolf. And in the Bible man was made from the dust of the earth but in the likeness of God and by the breath of the holy spirit.

The duality of man is the conflict of what is deeply instinctive and what is morally superior. Ying and Yang, Anima and Animus, Light and Dark, Good and Evil, Order and Chaos. The stuggle to balance these poles is the root of misery and destruction. But if one were to embrace both sides and achieve a balance then there is no limit to the amount of tranquility and harmony one would possess.

Plato wrote of the allegory of the cave and Nietzsche gave us the superman. Philosophically it should be our goal to obtain a level of perfection, one where we are united with the universe and yet transcending it. The only way to obtain this level is to become a paradox; Hard yet soft, primal yet divine.

1 year Anniversary!

2006-10-14T22:02:00.000-05:00

One year ago we started this shit. Congrats Wes! Lets punch a hole in our belt and call it a notch cuz that's what it is.

Ok, so it has been four years since the completion of Blood Wars (and since you moved to Texas). In celebration I present you with the first 10 pages of our baby.

WORDS ON SCREEN --BLACK BACKGROUND

During the 31st year of the Blood War Lord Bane was advised of possible spies living amongst the wicker people in the realm of innocents. He issued an assault upon a small village west of the wilderness. As a warning to all those who claimed to be neutral yet sought to fight against an extensive power they couldn't even begin to fathom. This is where he unknowingly evoked a chain of reactions that would eventually lead to his doom.

FADE OUT.

FADE IN:

Stars emerge from the darkness.

TITLE CARD COMES UP

"REALM OF INNOCENTS - YEAR 31 OF THE BLOOD WAR"

EXT. FOREST -- NIGHT

PAN DOWN from a starry sky to lush forest. FLASHES of light and EXPLOSIONS fill the air. Suddenly the Earth RUMBLES as a gigantic TANK bursts through the trees.

Dozens of futuristic soldiers (Royals) dressed in full body armor RUSH out from the forest.

PAN LEFT to reveal a village being ransacked and burned, people being dragged into the street and shot.

CUT back to the Tank as it FIRES off a shot from it's PULSE CANNON.

INT. VILLAGE HOME

A burst of light consumes the room. HADEN MCCOY, 14, runs from his bedroom, down the hall, and is then snatched up by his FATHER and MOTHER, heading towards the front door.

Just as they reach the door a ROYAL SOLDIER (RS) jabs the father with the butt of his gun, knocking him to the ground. Haden and his mother rush out the door.

The RS hovers over the father preparing to strike when ARIOCH MCCOY, a tall muscular young man 18 years of age shoots and kills the RS. Before he can hit the ground Arioch has his Dad sprint out the door.

EXT. THE TOWN

Hell. Dozens of people run from thier homes only to be shot down. Haden, his parents, and Arioch scramble through the streets and between small buildings and homes.

FATHER
Arioch take Haden and get him to the safety of the woods, his mother and I will meet him their later.

HADEN
But Dad!

FATHER
Shut up and go. There's no time...

A BLAST nearby sends a thick cloud of dust into the air. Haden's father pushes the two boys in the direction of the woods. Arioch sprints to the trees dragging Haden behind him.

Haden frees himself from Arioch's grasp, runs back towards his parents, stops.

They are seen in the distance having a strugle with a couple of the RS. One soldier HITS thier father in the face with the butt of his gun; another simply FIRES with his AUTOMATIC WEAPON upon their mother until his clip runs out.

Haden falls to his knees. Arioch comes up behind him, tosses him over his shoulder, and runs to the woods.

NEW TITLE CARD COMES UP

"CITY OF BLOOD- year 47 of the BLOOD WAR"

EXT. CITY OF BLOOD -- AFTERNOON

Looks like the ruins of a great and prosperous city, one whose technology and society was far superior to that of ours today.

Haden, now a strong and handsome man in his mid twenties, lies uncomfortably on a pile of rubble. Blood trickles from his head and onto the ruble. EXPLOSioNS and GUNFIRE all around. His eyes burst open --

HIS POV

--to find KINDRA, a sleek and pale young gypsy woman, kneeling over him.

ANGLE BACK

HADEN
You again!

KINDRA
Hello sweetheart.

Kindra punches Haden, takes some MRE's, and then rushes off into the shadows. Haden scrambles to his feet.

HADEN
Little bitch get back here!

Haden begins to take off after her but is suddenly grabbed by SAVIOR, a muscular seven foot tall 400 pound man with scars covering the left side of his body and face.

They are in the middle of a small street battle.

An EXPLOSION goes off where Haden was about to run. Savior helps Haden to his feet and the two take off running. Royal Soldiers round the corner and open fire.

Savior and Haden return fire as tehy take cover behind a concrete slab.

NOBLE WARRIORS are seen running from and opening at the base of a demolished building.

They open fire upon the Royal Soldiers. Once of the marines throw a GRENADE which lands beside Haden. Haden and Savior retreat into a nearby building as the grenade explodes.

INT. BUILDING -- DAY

Inside the builing they open fire upon a group of RS who are rushing toward them on the exterior of the building. Haden taps Savior on the shoulder.

HADEN
Can you hold them off long enough for me to get up top?

SAVIOR
No problem, just be quick about it.

HADEN
Once I get up there I'll give you some relief fire. Then you come up. Got it?

Savior nods his head in understanding.

Haden runs up a flight of stairs and approaches a blown out window and watches as the two groups of soldiers fight below.

A stray ROCKET from one fo the fallen soldiers blows the floor out from beneath Haden's feet knocking him to the rublle below. haden is not wounded. Gets to his feet shaking his head. Savior runs over to Haden as a loyal friend and broher in arms.

SAVIOR
Haden, Okay?

Inside and alley Haden seeks Kindra running.

HADEN
Savior, meet me back at Brock's.

Savior nods his head and takes off.

Haden follows the girl down the alley. She knowingly leads him the long way around to Brock's place.

INT. LORD BANES CASTLE - LOWER LEVELS -- EVENING

Sparks fly from steel beams as gruff looking men wearing head gear are seen working diligently on an enormous metallic object. Panning left the majority of the room is seen. The room is elaborae in size and confusing in texture with wires, cords, catwalks, monitors and lights of miltiple colors and noises all around.

A pair of elongated saloon type doors fly open as LORD BANE enters with a small group of ADVISORS.

Standing on the observation deck of the cat walk anticipating Lord Banes arrival for sometime now is KRYPLE, a withered old man about four feet tall, balding with remaining stringy white hair, blue eyes, dressed in a slender black coat and communications head piece, resting on the left side of his face. he turns around to greet Lord Bane with anxiety in his eyes and sweat on his brow.

It is terribly hot in this lower wind of the castle bu that is not why he is sweating.

ADVISOR
This is Mr. Kryple. He's the head engineer of the Onslaught project.

Kryple extends a hand, Lord Bane doesn't take it. Kryple shakes his own hand.

KRYPLE
This is such and honor. We're very glad to have you. If you'll follow me I'll...

He motions for Lord Bane to follow him.

Lord Bane stands firm.

LORD BANE
How long before it's complete?

KRYPLE
Right on schedule sir.

LORD BANE
I don't care about the damn schedule> I want ot know how long before it's complete.

KRYPLE
Oh, yes of course.

Giving himself time to think he goes to a keypad at the right hand orner of the observation deck and begins to type something. He then turns wiping sweat from his brow.

KRYPLE
(stuttering)
About seven months to go sir.

LORD BANE
Very well.

Lord Bane is annoyed. Kryple is relieved.

EXIT LORD BANE

INT. HALLWAY

Lord Bane and his advisors walk hastily down the hallway. Lord Bane stops and turns to and advisor.

LORD BANE
If they have not progressed within four days retire him.

INT. BROCKS -- LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT

BROCK, a strong lean black man in a sleeveless shirt wih a welding helmet on hunches over a table welding a piece of weaponry together.

Brock is in his 40's, about average height with a muscular build from years of working heavy machinery used in reparing weapons and armor. he is an intelligent man but looks more like a noble warrior than anything. Brock is a weaponsmith. He works for the nobles preparing thier armor and weapons. But he prefers to create his own designs for weapons of war. During the years he has ben blessed with a few good friends. This primarily being Haden and Savior. Until recently he has found it possible to intrust a young gypsy woman known as Kindra.

Haden burst through the door unaware of Kindra sitting on a couch playing with her knives..

HADEN
Brock! That bitch Kindra stole from me again.

Kindra stands up and takes off into a back room.

HADEN
You! I'm going to kill you!

Brock steps in his way.

BROCK
Whoa their tiger!

HADEN
What's she doing here?

Brock takes the helmet off ans sets it aside.

BROCK
I hired her. Kindra's my new assistant.

HADEN
You're kidding right?

BROCK
I figured since Kindra was so good at screwing you over then maybe she could bag me some stuff from the Royals.

Brock tosses Haden and MRE.

BROCK
Here, catch.

HADEN
This is mine. This is what she stole.
(beat)
Damn it! Where is she? I want all my stuff back.

Haden starts marching towards the back rooms. Brock grabs him.

BROCK
Relax. She gave it back.

HADEN
All of it?

BROCK
All of it.

HADEN
How'd you manage that?

BROCK
I offered her a place to stay.

HADEN
She's living here too?

INT. BROCKS--HALLWAY

Haden walks down the hall and opens the last door.

INT. HADENS ROOM

HIS POV

Kindra sits on Hadens bed tossing her blades around.

KINDRA
Hi.

ANGLE BACK

Haden slams the door.

INT. LIVING ROOM

HADEN
Son of a bitch! Brock please tell me she's sleeping outside.

Brock is speechless.

HADEN
This is unbelievable. That is my room and by bed. And I'll be damned if...no, you know what; she can have it. I'll sleep outside.

Haden grabs his gun and a blanket. Brock takes the blanket.

BROCK
Haden! Relax man nobody is sleeping outside.

Haden yanks the blanket back.

BROCK
She's sleeping on the couch.

HADEN
Couch? We have a couch?

BROCK
Yeah man, just got it today. Found it in an old furniture building. It was a little dust and water damages but I managed to dry it and fix it up alright. Kinkra said it still stinks.
(beat)
but she don't mind.

Haden inspects the couch and sits.

BROCK
Relax, Haden buddy. Everything will be fine.

HADEN
Everything was fine.

BROCK
Ah, quit being a drama queen. Recite your creed you pussy.

HADEN
No that's alright.

BROCK
Do it!

Haden reluctantly takes in a deep breath.

HADEN
As a Noble Warrior my first response is to do whatever it takes to survive and defeat the enemy. If I, a soldier, think myself to be an army of one then I am empowered and driven to do the best I can to survive. Allowing myself to be mentally unbreakable by the enemy.

BROCK
See, mentally unbreakable by the enemy. Don't let Kindra get to you. She's only here to help. You can't tell me that we don't need the help.

HADEN
We don't need the help.

Kindra pops her head around the corner.

KINDRA
Yeah you do.

HADEN
To hell with this I'm going to sleep.

He gets up bu is stopped by Kindra.

KINDRA
Haden, honey? will let me sleep in your bed?

HADEN
That's McCoy to you and forget it! I'm not sleeping with you.

KINDRA
I din't say I wanted to sleep with you I said I wanted to sleep in your bed. You can have the couch.

HADEN
Why don't you sleep in Brock's bed?

BROCK
Whoa nobodys sleeping in my bed but me.

EXIT Brock from room.

HADEN
You're taking the couch.

KINDRA
No I'm not.

HADEN
Yes you are.

KINDRA
Make me.

EXT. CITY RUINS

Savior is walking through the shadows and alleyways. Stepping over rocks and bodies. Caelessly he stps on the hand of an RS.

The RS rises up quickly shouting

ROYAL SOLDIER 1
You son of a whore! Watch where your freaking stepping.

He gets a clear view of Savior.

ROYAL SOLDIER 1
Holy Hell, a Noble Warrior! Wake up, Wake up my Royal brothers! We have a Noble warrior it kill!

The royal soldier alerts several other nearby soldiers of an uninvited guest in their presence. Before Savior can get out of there he is surrounded by 10 heavily armed royal soldiers.

All RS are armed and pointing there guns at Savior, who has his gun raised back at them. An eleventh RS sneaks up behind Savior and attempts to plunge a dagger into his throat. Savior grabs the man and hurls him at the RS, knocking some down. The rest open fire. Savior ducks behind a pillar, opening fire when he can with his LT Hendershot. The RS take cover too.

Searching for a way out Savior sees a ladder not to far off. He's having trouble deciding to run for it. A grenade lands beside his feet. What the hell. Savior takes off for the aldder, the grenade explodes, and Saviors escape is disguised by a reign of fire and smoke.

ROYAL SOLDIER 1
Did we get him?

Savior drops down from a platform above with his sword drawn and slices two RS in half. Immediately taking cover from the remaining RS.

ROYAL SOLDIER 2
Back up, all star comms we need back up now!

Savior opens fire again with perfect timing. Killing three RS. He then takes off running. The remaining six chase after.

INT. OFFICE BUILDING

Savior busts down the door and rusn straight to the staris. The RS enter shortly after.

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM

Savior breaks through the twin doors, leaps over the desk and out the window...

EXT. ROOFTOPS

...slamming hard onto the roof of a nearby building. He turns to look at the window he came out of.

HIS POV

The six RS stop, get a good running start, and jup from the window one by one. The first two don't make it. The next four do.

ANGLE BACK

Savior rushes at the RS knocking one off the rooftop and only knocking the others down.

Again he takes off running, leaping from roof to roof and climbing up ladders whenever one is present, getting ever so higher and higher until he reaches an end.

In front of him is a gigantic crater extending beneath a canopy of glass, banners, and steel beams.

Behind him is the three RS. They open fre and Savior jumps, sliding down the beams, swinging on banners, and finally crashing through the glass, bouncing into the crater.

INT. BROCKS -- LIVING ROOM -- LATER

Haden's sleeping on the couch, a cloth covers his nose and mouth. His eyes suddenly open, he sits up, looks at a wall clock. It reads '3:15'.

He walks down the hall to the door before his, swings it open and inside is an empty bed.

KINDRA
What? The big guy not there?

HADEN
No.

Kindra inspects the room.

KINDRA
Oh, well. I'm sure he can take care of himself.

HADEN
I told him to meet me back here. I remember that specifically.

LONDON

2006-10-09T13:46:00.000-05:00

To begin with this is a conversation i had with a good buddy, Angel Quintero ( my college roommate actually) who was able to go to london this past weekend on a business trip. While i, due to my lack of a passport ( my fault) was unable to go with him.

ANGEL:
I was walking the streets yesterday and saw a guy walking down the street. he was tall and kinda slim
he had on jeans that were a little too short, just short enough to show his chuck taylors
they had a huge rip on one side and his sock was sticking out.
he had on a blue faded hoodie and a black leather jacket on top of that
a shiny chain hangin out of his back pocket
As i walked a bit behind him i watched him pull out a small notebook
he just leaned up against the wall and started writing
he would stop and look up at this cathedral and just continue to walk
i cant imagine what he was thinking but it must of been good
because he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and went over to the wall and started writing
by that time we had passed him
Anyway the people here seem to care about larger things in life

ME: yep..... i dont know many people around here that do that...

ANGEL:
Here you are surrounded by ancient ideas
ancient art work, ancient architecture
ancient lifestyle

ME: sounds like heaven to me

ANGEL:
its simply the most beatifull invironment to be in
on the way to work this morning i passed under the london bridge on a brick layed road. then we passed the thames river
and the people just genuinly look really cool
not like knoxville cool
more like the doors cool except they dont try i cant explain it
i can see you not changing here.
you wouldn't have to
london will embrace you
same accent
same walk
same posture
same look
same reason to live that most here do
im truly sorry you couldn't make it here

ME: thanks man, that really means a lot!

ANGEL:
you have to know this wes, what you have been through
the jobs, the girls, the valet parking,
the bills, the food you eat or dont eat, the stress,
the family, whatever else that happens and is what it is around you
well.. its not permanent

not for you it isnt

it would bring another man down
change him, make him stop
so just dont stop man
seriously ....

ME: never man.... like i said as a senior in highschool " its never been a matter of how far my dreams will take me, its how far im willing to follow" cuz i KNOW i can go and do anything i want as long as im willing to fight for it.
dont ask me to explain how i do it, i cant, i just DO!!

Thanks again Angel for the kind words.

Timid Thoughts

2006-10-08T22:18:00.000-05:00

MASKS

“One for now, and one for later, you have two masks to wear whenever. We all do, it’s natural.” Says man one

“And this is true for all?” Says man two

“Most, not all.” Replies man one

“What about those with only one? Or them who have more then two?” Says man two

“They are the ones I myself worry about as well.” Says man one

WHERE BEAUTY LIES

Her true beauty lies within her lips. Her fleshy smooth and ever so tasty body is meant to hide or distract from the hunt for such treasures kept within those lips of love unknown. Therefore you must cage the beast before you own her.

Look not into the eyes of beauty for she is LOST and will devour the soul of any man so that she may remain unfound.

“Binding is her love for you. Beware of the wench!”
This from a man who knew her not.
“Damn I am a fool, for he spoke true. And now I’m trapped.”

LUXURY

I pray I’ll never know her lap, for it makes ambitious men into sloppy swine to money. Worse than fools are they.

Face forward, Nose up, Head back, and Hips swaying. She must walk in this manner so as to maintain the confidence of always being above and never in the same location of her own putrid stench. Watch when she stands or sits still. Head always bobbing from side to side, hair flipping, fanning the air everywhere and her nose even higher.

For the unlikely concerned

2006-09-27T12:25:00.000-05:00

I apologize for my absents and neglectful ways.
It's just the nature of the beast I've become.
been wondering for quite sometime
been howling like the lone wolf that i am at the baning moon before my hungry eyes.
been longing and looking for the hunt that tears at my stomach
the rage of not knowing what it is
or where it will be found
has left me ripped and torn and bloodied to the core
I've been ravenous and seeking for far too long
I've lost my easy get away transportation
I've gone primitive
back to the travel of feet and man power driven ambitions of desires not too far off yet far away still from my current geographical position in this transient life
For now i choose to sit and stand and scratch and look off toward the distant horizon and wonder what else is out there for us all and where i may go now that i am primitive man without automotive transportation of this day in age.

Im not so far away ill be coming round again someday when the time is right and the Hoarde ceases to fight amongst themselves.

There is always truth behind the veils of twisted lines of text.

Untitled I: Paths

2006-09-18T17:33:00.000-05:00

Where? Why?

Just two questions to answer.

Socrates and Me

2006-08-16T12:59:00.000-05:00

A man in a white robe approached me on the street the other day.

Socrates: I have come from a great distance and across a great chasm of time to learn about your society. May I speak with you sir and ask you a question?

Me: I'm not sure that I will know the answer you are looking for but ask and I shall do my best.

Socrates: What is it to have a life?

Me: You ask the meaning of life?

Socrates: Let me explain some. I am not seeking a grand purpose for human life, nor for the individuals existence. What I'm asking is what is it to have life? In your time, within your culture, there is a saying, "Get a life". But what is this life to get?

Me: I'm not sure I'm getting what you are saying, explain more.

Socrates: Two girls, sisters, one older and one younger. The older sister, Emily, goes to school full-time, works full-time, and volunteers on the weekends. Her free time is spend in study. Her sister, the younger, Amy, is a high school student, does not work, and spends all her free time with her boyfriend, shopping, or at a party. One day Amy asks her sister to do something with her and Emily says she is to busy. Amy gets angry and says her sister has no life and that she needs to get one.

Me: I think what is meant by "having a life" is the freedom to have fun.

Socrates: This girl, Amy, said her younger brother Tommy also did not have a life. Tommy plays video games all day. Are video games and school both a chore?

Me: No, video games are fun.

Socrates: And school isn't?

Me: Right.

Socrates: But school is fun to some people?

Me: I guess so.

Socrates: Is it correct then to say Amy finds both school and video games boring?

Me: Yes.

Socrates: And that what she finds boring is an existence not worth having?

Me: Surely.

Socrates: Then is Amy also in need of a life to those who find school or video games appealing and partying and shopping boring?

Me: Thats sounds correct.

Socrates: So to have a life is to play video games all day, or study all day, or party and shop all day.

Me: If it pleases you, yes.

Socrates: Then all there is to life is pleasure?

Me: Oh no. There are many more things to life besides that.

Socrates: Such as?

Me: Love, Friendship, Success.

Socrates: Things that cannot be measured.

Me: Well, yea. Emily does not like school but she values success. Amy likes to party because she desires to be loved and to have many great friendships. And Tommy loves video games.

Socrates: So to have a life is to live in the sow of what had been reaped.

Me: That is correct.

Socrates: But what if one had sown a bad seed and now lives in the worst of what was reaped?

Me: It has to include pleasure.

Socrates: Then, by what you are saying if Amy's boyfriend is cheating on her with her best friend and she has found out but hides her feelings and continues to be with him because he is a popular guy and helps her get invited to the best parties. And all her friends talk about her behind her back but she endures this because she needs to feel loved and will supress the bad surrounding her. Then she still has a life?

Me: I suppose so.

Socrates: Then pleasure has nothing to do with having a life.

Me: I guess not.

Socrates: And about Emily; if when she gets out of school and into her career she is not successful then she still does not have a life?

Me: Yes

Socrates: But what is success?

Me: Taking pride in the work you do.

Socrates: And suppose Emily takes pride in her school work and her work at her job then she is a success?

Me: Correct.

Socrates: Then she also has a life.

Me: True dat homey.

Socrates: But Love, Friendship, and Success, among other things, are different to every person.

Me: They are.

Socrates: So life is different for every person.

Me: Everything is subjective, yes.

Socrates: Emily asked me to find out how to respond to one who says she needs to "get a life". How should she respond?

Me: Based on what I know now?...."I have a life, it's just not yours"

Socrates: Very good, you have answered my question. I thank you.

Me: Thanks, you have a good day.

Socrates: And to you also.

From here the man departed, as did I, and we went our seperate ways.

Will to Succeed

2006-07-29T12:42:00.000-05:00

How far are you willing to go in order to live a dream?
Is there a limit to your desire? Where is that limit?
Can you push beyond it?

Will to power. Will to live. Will to Succeed.

Courage and Heart forever, together, must grow.
If you can taste it, if you can dream it, if you can see it, if you can imagine it...
...then you can achieve it.

There is a catch.
A Question:
How far are you willing to go?

A dream within grasp can never be reached with the chains of others holding you down.

What will you sacrifice?
Your friends? Your Love? Your Life?

How much does it mean to you?
Give it your all and the answers will be revealed.
What was once a dream shall pass--embrace reality

What is in you is weak, you are pathetic. Give up.

To follow a dream is to live in a nightmare.
Give up the dream
or
Give up your life

No friends. No Love. No life.

How far are you willing to go to live?

On the Shoulders of Giants

2006-06-21T10:21:00.000-05:00

"It is different for every one. That crazy mind of yours holds its own greatest hidden treasure. Disect it and lay it all out daily." --Mama Tigre

Someday brothers. Someday we'll find our mountain side, our place to stand and scream our souls aloud. And once we find our place of peace and solace. We'll reflect upon this current time in our youthful life and understand (as I'm beginning to now) why. That as we begin to speak of things too great for us to speak of at such an early age, our tongues begin to swell, to muffle our words and prevent us from appearing as self righteous young pups who thought they understood life. When in fact, we'd only begun to live it. And as our tongues began to swell, the smartest of us retreated into the wilderness...Hiding our shame from those who would ridicule us, for thinking that we, as pups, could run with the pack and howl the poets cry. Until that time brothers, I hope we'll all swallow our pride and preimptive passions and be content as we suffice to whimper in our lonely dens.

The entire Mama Tigre text
"Great minds reflect on those that are gone. We feel enlightened by thier words."
"And connected to the surrealism of something that's past and we long for thier existance. It is natural."
"There is sanity, serenity within it."
"It seems as though they have uncovered the secret. But you will uncover that same secret in your life with the influence of great minds."
"It is different for every one. That crazy mind of yours holds its own greatest hidden treasure. Disect it and lay it all out daily."

Road to Publication

2006-04-18T18:47:00.000-05:00

Hey there folkies!

Soli and I are currently on a mission to get ourselves published. We have to come up with something worth publishing by July 1st. If we get published or not is another matter. Right now we are just taking it one step at a time. Stay tuned for updates on our success and or failures.

Sincerely Yours,
J.R. Bowman

Dreamchasers

2006-04-05T16:46:00.000-05:00

With truth in our hearts, our depths
We breathe the essence of dreams
Absorbing all that is around
To weave a tell worthy of being told

All That surrounds...

Abstract shapes take on personifications of
those we love and those who’ve gone before.
Standing mightier than men,
sparking the light that will move the soul.

We Are…..

Men with eyes like spears that stare
Coldly, in honest desperation into the
Trenches of others souls seeking understanding.

A rare soul, searching for more
our world dies, fading fast
into the sunset, into the west
we ride

Soul Shriek

2006-03-02T09:45:00.000-06:00

There are times in life when you need to scream. To walk into an overly crowded area and just release all of your energy into that crowd; yelling at the top of your lungs with a force so intense all of Heaven and Hell shudder. The veins on your neck engorge with blood, your face becomes flush red, eyes bursting out of thier sockets, breath quickly vanishing from within your lungs, and still you scream. Louder and louder you scream. Your voice goes dry, you loose all air, and your mouth hangs there, open, still screaming from within. Filled with so much rage and contempt for this world your body melts away until all that is left of you is your soul. Your soul screaming to be free, to be heard, to be at peace for once and for all. Your soul shrieking, tearing its self out from within your inner recesses and into the physical world. Your fists clenched so tight the fingernails dig into the palm; cutting the flesh and penetrating deep until thick red blood gushes from the newly formed, self inflicted, wounds. Pain surrounds you. The pain of frustration and anguish. The pain of loss and humility. The pain of helplessness and rejection. The pain of your soul ripping through your heart, ribs, chest, muscles, bones, flesh, and skin until it explodes free of it's prison since birth. Your legs are weak, feeble, wobbly. You feel as if you are about to collapse. Your mind has begun to rot away. From out your flesh your soul breaks away. A great white light penetrates your skin. From about the heart a bright glow illuminates the darkness of your surrounding. People flee in terror. A small hand peeks through this light followed by another. They grasp the edges of a single hole from which the light eminates. Slowly at first stretching the hole out until enough force can be made to rip it apart. Flesh and bone, bile and blood, splatter as the body is torn apart by the hands of the great white light. The body falls away revealing the lone silhouette of a great and mighty spirit. You spread your wings and take flight. All hell can't stop you now.

Small Update

2006-02-17T12:11:00.000-06:00

The flow of thought is alive and well inside of us! The updates have been slow because of the workload we have brought upon ourselves in the past couple of weeks.

J Archer and Mookie are currently working on a screenplay. The details may be expressed at a later time. There is still alot of plot details that need to be worked out.

Soli Haven has gotten a job as a producer and is working on a series of short stories all circling around drinking. Plus he may be starring in a movie about some kids lost in a hostpital with a guy trying to kill him. Look for Red Apple in a theatre near you.

J Archer is also working on several old screenplay ideas. Oddly enough they all have a prostitute in them.

We may not update for a while but please don't forget about us.

What Lonely Creatures They Must Be

2006-01-26T08:00:00.000-06:00

You see him sitting
Comfortably alone
Embraced by his wings
You think him an angel at first
But what angel would have such
wings as these
Perhaps a Fallen
No, the Fallen has no wings to comfort themselves
You look again
These cannot be the wings of an angel
For this is an aged soul
A weary thinker
Angels do not age
Do they?
What can this be?
You ponder a moment
You clear your mind of all perceptions
You look at this scene again
You strip it clear and see it for what it is
Not for what it could be
The wings are light in weight
And humbled to his sides
They are brilliant in their majesty
yet simple in their complexity
Look at the man again
This is a man
Not an angel
This is a man of some character you’ve not met
often enough in your life
You remember
The scene is complete
The man is a Dreamer
What lonely creatures they must be

Introspection

2006-01-21T14:27:00.000-06:00

The one who answers "nothing" when asked "what are you thinking about?" is a worthless individual. We are all thinking about something, generally all of the time. Even while we sleep we think and so we dream. And while we are awake we also dream unlike those who do not think and do not dream.

Our dreams define us. Whithout them we would have no goals to reach. When one sits and thinks they are wrestling with themselves to focus that dream and make it a reality. But those without a thought in their heads wonder about aimlessly, void of ambition.

Then there are those of us refered to as "Dreamers". We are the constant thinkers. Not a moment goes by in which we are not activley advancing our position in the world or enhancing ourselves.

The difference between one of moderate talent and one of supreme excellence is by how much the individual dreams. A great fighter dreams of parries, counters, footwork, attacks, and feigns. A great mathamatician dreams of theorems, algorithms, formulas, and numbers. A great philosopher dreams of meaning, depth, love, and the human condition. A great musician dreams of songs, rhythms, cords, and beats. A great writer dreams of characters, plots, and structure.

A dreamer thinks all the time, especially when nothing is going on: like during commercials, while waiting in line, while eating, while driving, at parties, at sporting events, in movies, and so on. Those who do not dream do not think and therefore time wastes away and they have done nothing to further themselves.

To a dreamer I offer this advise. Surround yourself with those who are constantly thinking and constantly improving upon what they already know; they will only lead you higher. Limit your time with those who minds are empty and whose thoughts are blank; they will only hold you back. To tell the difference just ask, "what are you thinking about?"

Disenchanted Youth part two

2006-01-15T15:53:00.000-06:00

This lifetime friend of mine called me around 2 in the morning, this was NO bother for me considering I’m usually well awake during the hours past midnight. And this particular night had been for him a long night of drunken thought which led to drunken desperation and loneliness. At the end of an hour and a half conversation my friend finally got to the point of all his redundant ramblings and he said to me.
“ Brother, I want you to evaluate my life, my habits, my attitude, my way of living, tell me what you think of me. Tell me what you think about the way’s that I’ve changed. Be honest, don’t hold back. What kind of person am I now compared to how I used to be? I want to know what you think about my girl from what I’ve told you. How should I deal with her? I could seriously marry this girl, I thought we had that kind of relationship. But now I’m not so sure, I need your advice on this one, I still love her SO VERY MUCH. I Don’t know what to do. Help, I love you brother, Thank you.”

I wanted to slap him, because he’s so young. We’re so young. He shouldn’t be thinking about marriage to Anyone at this point in his life. There’s still so much life to be lived. But I felt sorry for him too. Even though least of it was his own damn fault, a bigger piece belongs to his step father for being such a cruel asshole, and the majority to his mother for almost never standing up for her son when he need someone too. That’s when I really started taking notice of things that just didn’t seem right about how things in this day in age weren’t working out for a lot of people. And for the lucky ones who were already making they’re money with insurance companies and what have you, well good for them. The rich fuckers. But this speech isn’t about them, this is about the absolutely down to earth struggling to find their niche in life kind of man and woman who have actually stepped back and refused to accept what everyone says they should do and actually questions what it is they would like to do that would make them happy doing it. The dreamers of a disenchanted youth.

For many people in my lifetime they go through their life without really questioning anything. But for a large number of friends that I have come across in my life who are still my friends during this age of college and self fulfilling prophecy. They are unhappy with their routines of school and work. And for those who stay in school for the whole ride. They’re lucky if they get out of school by 24. For the rest of the poor bastards who want to be doctors and lawyers and psychiatrists. Well, they’re not getting out until they’re about 27 or 28 depending on when they started school.

I feel sad, as well as many of us do. We feel like we’re being held back from something. And it’s not KNOWLEDGE that we are seeking anymore. It’s experience, we want our God Given lives back. We as the youth are tired of drooling painfully over books and keyboards, going blind from computer screens and deaf from our headphones that we ware in an attempt to drown out the ambience of our dull existence.

Something’s in this nation and the way things are taught to be, just don’t make any sense. Early in life kids are taught to read poetry and literature to teach themselves lessons of life. One collection of stories in particular that I should have listened to more in depthly as a kid is the stories of Tom Sawyer and Huckle Berry Finn. Two kids who daily skipped scool in order to have adventures in their lives as opposed to reading about someone else’s travels and adventures. They found school (like most of us) to be dissatisfying and boring. So they simply ran around caused more trouble then they should have but still they learned their lessons the honest way as opposed to reading the cliff notes.
I’m currently 22 years old, I was born June 5th 1983. I graduated from the Art Institute of Dallas March 26th of 2005. Towards the end of my college life I became very depressed and unsatisfied with what I was doing. I was tired of recreating life forms fantasy based or otherwise. I wanted to actually be out in the world instead of building fictional worlds. So after 3 months of no luck in my career field. I ran, I ran all the way to Starruca Pennsylvania up in the Pokanose Mountains. A 24 hour drive from Oklahoma City. And you know what I saw when I got there. A bunch of kids as young as 9 years old talking about business and what they were gonna do when they grew up. Some of them, a few of them wanted to be film makers and they took great liberty in rattling off the programs they used at home in order to edit their films.

That’s when I was disgusted at what my life was in retrospect. I remember playing around getting dirty in the mud, jump on rocks, running through the woods, discovering new creatures as a kid and how vivid my imagination was. I drew all the time. Where as now I have to literally force myself to sit and sketch something just to make sure I still have the talent. I remember first trying to decide what I was going to be when I grew up and what a fantasy and a lifetime away that idea seemed. And that’s all it was, just a fantasy. From then on I spent most of my hours of the day behind an uncomfortable desk looking a books I never really cared for, I was just barely making the grade and the whole time I couldn’t wait to get home so I could go in the back yard and explore my wilderness of imagination. But still dreaming of that day when I would be all grown up and be that successful teacher, that film maker, that cook, or that whatever it was at the time.

My short time outside after school in the back yard soon got shorter and shorter. Then I remember I was suppose to have a relationship with a girl at school. I never got the ones I chose to go after. Eventually I quit and decided to put even more energy into practicing one of my talents that would someday make me into that actor, that writer, that artist or that whatever it was at the time.

I managed to get a school interested in me and they accepted me for college. I felt on fire, I did it. I was going to college, first kid in my family to do it. I was proud of myself and my family was proud too. I felt like I was cheating the system somehow. I was going to school to look at naked people and draw them and create them on a computer in 3 dimensions. When all my buddies were still cramming their noses into books.

My time for pride soon left, and I began to see how truly difficult it was gonna be for me to succeed in this particular field of art. I was good enough yeah, I could do it and make it look great but I wasn’t one that stood out in a crowd. And that’s what you have to be in order to make it. I felt cheated, the system had got me to give them 50 thousand dollars and as soon as I was really starting to understand what I was doing. I didn’t care anymore I just wanted to sit outside and enjoy the sun on my face. But I didn’t have time even do that for more then a few moments at a time. I spent the last 3 months of school indoors and at night working on my portfolio so that hopefully I could graduate. I survived on coffee and nodoze to stay awake long enough to get everything done. I graduated so I guess I did ok.

Now I didn’t have constant daily access to the internet cause I couldn’t and still cant afford it. Which, for those of you who don’t know is the only free and most abundant way to find information and tutorials on how to do things for my field of work. I knew I was fucked. My family was proud that I had now graduated from college and was ready to finally go out into the world and be somebody. I was disgusted, because the day after graduation we had a portfolio show where employers were invited to look at our work and see if they liked it enough to talk to us about possibly working for them. I had 2 people talk to me who were being generous because I was at the end of the table and they knew that I’d just witnessed them ooo and aww over my classmates work.

So here I am now a year later and now my friends back home are getting closer and closer to their own graduations. They’re reaching that final leg of the race. Just one year to go or however long it is that they have left. And you know what I’m hearing? Complaints. They as well as I are sick of it, all of it. They just want to live and be free from tests and books and notes and massive amounts of coffee.

Here’s my question. How long has this been going on? For how many generations have people realized that all we want to do is play and have recess? Like we’re suppose to do. There’s more to this but I’m tired now and my question wasn’t really fulfilled here at the end but you understand what I’m trying to say I hope.

Disenchanted Youth part one

2006-01-10T15:57:00.000-06:00

Born into a generation where youthful adventures and uninhibited bicycle journeys during the day for children were soon put to an end, as a result of kidnappings and other such crimes involving the mistreatment of children were on a rise more so then ever before in American society. We had to suffer, as we were forced to watch other lives live adventurously through a television screen. And wonder why we couldn’t be out there discovering dead bodies like in the movie STAND BY ME or helping an alien friend return home as in E.T. THE EXTRATERRESTRIAL.

Growing up my friends and I weren’t allowed to ever venture to far from home or our neighborhoods for that matter and growing up as a teenager in suburban society of a small town wasn’t much easier either. Most I ever did as a youth was ride my bike about 2 miles down the road to my buddies house where we’d often sit in his room and daydream of the days when we could finally leave our parental prisons and guarded homes and travel beyond the walls of our encampments. Oh yes, our adventures came much later in life. Unlike the last “free-generation”, which gave birth to skaters, and not too mention the other exciting youths from previous generations who grew up before the late 70’s and early 80’s. My generation’s adventures were tamed or restricted, put off until a much more MATURE age. We had to wait until our 20’s before we could truly be rebellious. Being rebellious at 20 seems silly but let me tell you it IS, trust me. However, we had no other choice. This is the story of me and my generation and our self proclaimed adventures lived late in our youth. In our last days of youth.

I was first placed into school at the tender age of 5 years old. I never managed to escape. I was imprisoned in this place of education until the age of 19. I was already attending college at The Art Institute of Dallas before I was 20. I remained there until the last few months of my 21st year. During my unobserved time in this urban society I subtly began to find myself to be completely free of all youthful restrictions that once held me back from my adventures. At first I wasn’t sure how to deal with it or what to do with my spare time. And then…

I realized something, Where is the pressure coming from? Who is it really who is putting THIS pressure on me on us to do this thing called LIFE. This isn’t living this is farming. America has gotten itself into such a frenzy of the working class, business man and woman state of mind that there is no more time for anyone to actually live or be adventurous.

The only people who actually get a semi adventurous life are celebrities and even that comes with a cost. Sure they get all the money they could ever want or need for ENTERTAINING us the lower classman of the world, But as their reward we have people chase them around like animals photographing their every move as if they’re some kind of Discovery channel special. They get to live adventurous lives for entertaining us who don’t have the time or the money too and then we stalk them down when they do something we WISH we all could do. Things that people use to do on a regular basis like mountain climbing, or hiking, or sailing, or whatever freedoms the wealthy are permitted to do as a reward for having money in their pockets to do it with. And people wonder why celebrities have such big homes and why the have so many of them. Those aren’t homes, they’re elaborate, expensive, cages that they hide themselves in with multiple rooms so that they MIGHT get a chance at privacy if they can manage to get from one room to the next or one home to the next without being spotted by the paparazzi.

Meanwhile the rest of us, are stuck sending our children to school as soon as they can walk nowadays. Then as shortly after we give them permission to drive we send them off to College which seems like we’re letting them go free. Which of course everyone KNOWS isn’t in the least bit true because what happens when they’re in college. They’re paying for it or racking up one hell of a debt with loans. And if they go to college they have to have classes, keeping them to busy to ever really go to far from school or home for risk of failing. Going to class restricts any real work time so the income isn’t as good as it could be so they definitely can’t go to far then. Unless of course they come from a wealthy family and then a few of the circumstances are different, but I wouldn’t know anything about that. I’m not speaking for the richer classes here, I’m speaking in general discomfort for what America has done to its youth in lower or middle class societies.

Next, after graduating from college they’re suppose to do what? Get a job. Oh, yeah that’s right, become some cooperate slave and help someone else get rich. Then you’ve got your two diplomas in your pocket you’ve got your steady paycheck you living alright now, actually got a reliable car to carry you to and from work and home. Bills are most usually paid off every month. Bills including, car payment, insurance payments, life insurance and car insurance and whatever else insurance they make you get along the way. Not too mention the 200 dollars you have to send in every month to pay back those loans that got you the job in the first place. Oh yeah real nice guys. I got the job everyone wanted me to get but I can’t enjoy it because all my money is already spent before I have time to save any of it. Leaving me STILL BROKE and no money or time to go anywhere. Same bullshit I had to deal with as a kid. A kid yeah childhood was a real good time let me tell ya. Talk about getting pissed off when that trip was over. Filled my head full of dreams of being an astronaut, cowboy, gunslinger, hitchhiker (seeing beautiful America), bum, mountain climber, movie star, or rich wealthy man. Wait, you mean I have to wait even longer before that happens, you mean I have to do all of this shit to get there. Well take it back. I don’t wanna do it then, just let me be free, free or obligations, free of debts, free from work. WORK? WORK SUCKS!!!

Then, oh yes, there’s more. Then they want you to find a wife. Mom and Dad wanna be grandparents before they’re too old to enjoy it. But no no no, they don’t wanna be that young and be a grandparent. Dad says becareful son, “always wear protection. Or just don’t have sex at all”. And mom says “sweety you’ll find a good one for ya someday, you’ll see. Just don’t give up.” GREAT! Still paying off debts and working your ass off to make sure you do that NOW they want you to try and have some kind of social life misk in with all of that mess. You do it, you get your little wifey the love of your life which brings love, sex, drama, and even MORE debt into your life. Especially after that wedding bill, for the invitations and decorations and plus you just added the college debt of the Miss’ onto yours once you got that joint account together.

Where are the kids? The kids? Oh yes you have to have the kids so mom and pop can become grandmom and gradpop before they pass on. Now you’ve got Love, Sex, Drama, and crying Baby, plus stress from work and everything else mixed together. No wonder suicide rates increase occasionally.

Let’s recap, shall we?

BORN
Crawl, poop, spit up
Walk
Age 5 (if lucky) GO TO SCHOOL
Walking still
Reading
Doing math
Age 16 (if lucky) LEARN TO DRIVE
Driving
Still walking
Reading
And doing math
Age 19 ( if you don’t fail) or (if lucky) GRADUATE
YAY!!!!!!
Age 19 ( if rushed) GO TO COLLEGE (get a degree and try to find love of life)
Still driving
Now learning a Specialty
Age 23-24 … 22 ( if lucky) GRADUATE
YAY!!! Again
NOW GO TO WORK (bullshit)
GET NEW CAR
PAY OFF LOANS
GET A WIFE
GET HER PREGNANT
HAVE KIDS
PUT THEM THROUGH SAME DRILL
Bullshit
Bullshit
Bullshit

IF LUCKY….

Finally get to LIVE early 50’s when vacation time has accumulated to 3 months paid vacation time. And you can afford to buy the RV that you’ll use once. YEAH RIGHT !! By the time we’re 50 we’ll be working harder then ever. Son of a bitch.

These are the thoughts that keep me up at night.

You see what I’ve done here. I’ve given a BASIC run down of everything we’re mean to do. Where in between all of this is there REALLY any TIME to live adventurously? Maybe for most Americans this is a NORMAL life. And they’re perfectly content going from day to day living their lives as a gear in this well oiled machine. As for me and my friends. There’s a few of us who just couldn’t stand living in this manner and we wanted a way out. Some chose to do nothing at all and really be like a bum working hourly jobs paid week by week living from pay check to pay check never attended college. Some of us attended and hated every minute of it, wishing we’d never gone. Others went to college didn’t really dislike it but felt we were forced into it as a result of it being the next thing to do on the itinerary of life. Which scared a few of us considering what comes after college if it hasn’t happened already. At some point we knew we were suppose to get married. Not necessarily a requirement but something people expected out of a few of us anyway. None of us were scholarly types but we admitted to knowing a thing or two.

Ah, who am I kidding? We were all young and rebellious against the life path we would all eventually fall into in some form or another. But for those of us who thought their JUST HAD TO BE MORE TO LIFE aside from what was already stated. Well we persisted in attempting to do and see and live as much as we could without letting up until someone finally broke our knees or forced us in someway to stay put and do the inevitable.

What were we suppose to do, give in and do what we didn’t want to do and be miserable doing it or were we right in our last rebellious act by not going along with the predetermined life plan set before us by American standards? I had my high school diploma I had my Degree; I knew my studies and how to gain the information I needed in order to get back into the industry. Or so I thought. But I also had a huge debt of about 50 grand looming just around the corner that I would soon have to start paying off. I was freaking out knowing I had 3 months left to actually LIVE before I was going to be hard pressed by the government to pay off my loans. 3 months before a ten year stretch of bills asking for money I wouldn’t have. Never the less, I was once told that I should never worry about anything, because that’s precisely when everything starts to get messed up really bad. I said Fuck it. And decided I wanted to do whatever I could to travel and LIVE during that time. And that’s what I decided to do during my last days of youth. Last days of seemingly real freedom. Anything after that remaining 3 month window of opportunity would be done on borrowed time, requested off time from a job, time I didn’t really have to lose off the clock for fear of not being able to make the payments that were required of me. I had to take the chance and not worry about any job opportunities that might pass me by IF I didn’t go. Things always have a way of working themselves out in the end anyways right? And everything happens for a reason, there’s no such thing as coincidence. These are the things I trusted in as I made my decision. That and also my belief that you should ALWAYS follow your heart. Well, damn it my heart said go. I went. Let me tell ya…..I’m 100% sure that I made the right decision. Besides after all as soon as I wanted to that preset Itinerary of life is always there when you decided to come back to it.

The Good, the Bad, and the Nice

2005-12-10T12:32:00.000-06:00

There is much to be said about the bad boy in matters of seduction. There is an air of excitement and mystery that surrounds that type. Women are easily pulled in by thier image. Deep down however the bad boy is a softee. He puts on a show of dominance, strength, and power to protect himself from being injured by those around him. At his core the bad boy is a poet. Notice the passion in the lyrics of a rocker, the commitment and comradery of a biker, and the familial love and devotion of a fighter. The bad boy then is nothing more than a scared little child looking for security and belongingness. The reason he lashes out is to shield that weak inner child from critisism and rejection. Bad boys especially lash out at nice guys who remind them of how insecure they really are.

The saying is that the bad boy always finishes first in the seduction of women and nice guys always finish last. The nice guy is reduced to becomming friends with women and counseling them on why thier bad boy boyfriends always mistreat them. Then the nice guy goes away and moans and complains about why he is single. The nice guy, like the bad boy, is too hiding his inner child from critisism and rejection. But in this instance the nice guy acts so kind and gentle that it is impossible for people to treat him badly. There is an inner rage inside of the nice guy but that rage is often directed toward the self rather than toward others. This then creates a picture of weakness, low self-esteem, and low self-confidence. These three characteristics are very unnerving to women who respond in a mothering fashion. The nice guy then is forced to remain in a purely plutonic relationship until he can find a woman who has a strong need to mother.

When it comes to gaining the attention and admiration of women there is a stronger pull to becomming a bad boy then there is a nice guy. But there is another, 3rd group, that is often overlooked. This group is that of the good guy. The good guy does not feel insecure inside and therefore has no need to lash out at others or to act in a pollyannalike fashion to protect the self. The good guy is a man of morals, disipline, and intellect. He is fierce at one moment and comforting the next depending on what the situation calls for. But too often the good guy is classified into the same category as the nice guy. This is because of the good guys lack of disregard for others, spontaneity, and rough image.

The reason the bad boy is prefered over a nice guy is because the bad boy appears to be more of a man. His rebeliousness gives the illusion of confidence and independence whereas the nice guys open emotions paint a picture of insecurity and dependence. Don't be fooled though. In times of pressure or crisis both the bad boy and the nice guy crumble. It is the good guy who in these times stands tall and takes charge. While the bad run away and the nice withdraw inside themselves the good push forward and all hell can't stop him.

Reality

2005-12-05T18:49:00.000-06:00

Nothing is forever. No matter how badly we want to hold onto things we know we can't because everything is fleeting. Yet, we insist on thinking and acting as if nothing will ever change. Everything changes.

Life seems unfair but it is instead the most unbiased of all things. In a natural disaster one cries "Why Me?". In a death by disease or war or famine one cries "why me?". In the loss of a job, home, or relationship one cries "why me?". But the question one could respond with may be "Why not me? Why not anybody else?". In life's randomness everyone has the same chance of good and bad and it is in this respect that life is fair.

I'm reminded of an old samurai who said to keep death in mind at all times. This is so that every moment will be spent usefully and responsibly. When one keeps death in mind life has more meaning. And so one treats his friends and family better because if tomorrow they die there will be no regrets.

Again I am reminded of another, a Western Philosopher, who said to seize the day. This is so that every moment will be spent like there is no tomarrow. When one enjoys today as if there is no tomorrow death looses its power. And so one lives thier life to the fullest because if tomorrow they die there will be no regrets.

Though both beliefs seem to be speaking opposite of each other I believe they are really speaking the same thing, a universal truth. One should always be reminded of thier mortality and not let life get them down because that is how life is.

Oh, to be OLD

2005-11-28T22:05:00.000-06:00

Oh to be old and not still young

If I were old I could sit and stare off my porch
Without the bothers of anyone asking me why
I could cry for any reason that I wish

My families youth would call me “sensitive”

I could do as I pleased without any question

Walk bare foot
Sit in my chair NUDE late at night
Scare my grand kids
Wish I had grand kids

I know why I’d spoil my grand kids
To keep myself out of harms way
Only thing worse then your own kid on your ass
Is your kids, kid

Oh to be old and stubborn
As opposed to young and willing

They would say that I was simply “set in my ways”
That I was an old dog who just refused to learn new tricks
I wouldn’t have to worry about death
or when it was that I was going to meet my END

Death would be my unknown brother in old age
My long lost friend
He would sit quietly with me on that porch staring,
waiting, watching.
Both of us knowing what the other is thinking
“Whose gonna be next?”
Death and I would make jokes about life and living

To be old and horny
Now that would be torture

To be old and lazy, well that’s to be expected

To be old and single
No worries, it would be a familiar friend from an early youth

To be old with Lunacy
Now that’s just the ability to really live
It’s the only thing that breaks the shackles of this reality

To be old

To teach the young
And have them shun my wisdom
Now that would be irony

To be young and long to be old
THAT is true irony

When I’m old
I’ll finally be like a cat
I’ll sleep all day and “need” all night

Now I must stop before this tale itself becomes old in the telling.

Just like good american Boys and Girls are suppose to do

2005-11-24T09:00:00.000-06:00

( I wrote this before i left to go to pennsylvania. the only thing thats changed is that now i have a girlfriend waiting for me.)

Here it comes and there it went, its all been done and ive nothing left
More words and fewer meanings
More thoughts and fewer muses
No ones here
Everyones gone

Be happy for me.
I did it
Are you happy for me ?
I’ve done what good American boys and girls are suppose to do
I graduated highschool
I’ve graduated college

WELL??!!

Where is it?
I have friends who’ve been outside of college for months now
They don’t have jobs
They’re not successful
They tried moving to where work is
They’ve lost loved ones because of it

No luck

Now they’re back where they were
They have their diplomas and they’re degrees
Living in lonely apartments by themselves now
Tooling around for some cheap ass job who was willing to hire them

One friend in particular
lost the love of his life
They broke up when he went to find success
In this aspect

Im lucky
I have no one waiting for me
No one holding me back
I can come and go as I please
Well, I went and now I’ve done it
I left my home state
I went to college
I got that same degree as my buddy
Now im using more money then ive ever had while im trying to sell myself to a corporation who’ll see me as a worthy addition to their company
so they can get rich off of my labor.

Where is it?
Where the gratitude?
Where's the satisfaction?

Im goin to Starrucca PA to try and reflect on things.

The Graduation Speech I Should Have Written (Warning: Foul Language)

2005-11-23T13:18:00.000-06:00

My fellow Seniors, my classmates, my friends, I come before you today to rejoice in an occasion that happens but once in a lifetime: the receiving of monetary gifts from all your living relatives. Enjoy these graduation gifts, kids, because it pretty much all goes down from here.

There's a phrase often used by graduation-speechwriters when referring to life after high school. They always say, "Let's go out into the real world!", or "Let's make our mark on the real world!". Well, let me tell you something. The only mark that's going to be made is the shit-stain on you after "The Real World" flushes you down the fucking toilet. Yes, "The Real World" is harsh. It is scary. It is largely unforgiving. You should be scared of it. It is all these adjectives for a very good reason, and that reason can be summed up in three words: it fucking sucks.

Take, for example, college. Most of you will not go to a four-year university. That means you get to grow up a little faster than everyone else, that is unless you plan on living with your mom and not working for the next 3-5 years. Many will attend two-year colleges, and let me tell you right now, that is a good idea. You get the same or better education at a fraction of the cost. From there, you can finish your upper-division classes somewhere else and then get away relatively scott-free. Most of you with divorced parents will be relegated to taking this option to conserve money, and believe me it is a blessing in disguise. Instead of dealing with parents squabbling about who needs to pay their half, you can take on some of the responsibility yourself. There's another life lesson that needs to be learned here: parents will not always put you, their child, above their own conflict.

On to four-year universities. Yes, they are well-respected. Yes, there are plenty of t-shirts with their logos available. Yes, they are the place to find hot girls. But they are one thing above everything else: bull-shit laden. Mostly it has to do with money. You would think that a state-subsidized institution would be able to reign in costs to the student just a little? You would be very wrong. If you can name one thing that is cheaper at a university than anywhere else (besides Microsoft Windows), I will give you a dollar. One would also think that millions upon millions of dollars of revenue generated by, say, a college football team would "trickle down" to the student, the very entity that comprises a university. Alas, the money is used to build bigger and taller sports stadia, and the student is required to suck cock to pay tuition and fees. Unless, of course, Mom and Dad are willing to suck it for them.

Another thing that you'll learn is that living on campus is highly, highly unnecessary. While universities claim that it improves student performance, keep in mind that it nets them several thousands of dollars more per semester for every student that resides on campus. And the conditions aren't exactly that of a five-star resort. You get a generous 8ft by 10ft area to yourself, and by "to yourself" I mean you get to hear your roommate have sex with his girlfriend every night. You also get a bathroom you share with at least three other people who rarely flush. You get to eat horrible food with little to no nutrition value, causing you to gain unwanted pounds. On top of that, you'll find out that getting out of bed and walking a couple blocks to class can be a greater test of one's will than commuting 30 miles every morning.

The lucky and stubborn ones will graduate. The really lucky ones, and I'm talking Powerball winner-lucky, will graduate in four years. It takes a person of Buddhist monk-discipline to change majors less than twice during their college career and make it all the way through. And why do we need college degrees so badly, you ask? So that we may get higher-paying jobs so that we, someday, can send our own kids to college. Isn't it ironic?

For those of you that will never have to work a day in your life before you graduate college, I have this message: Fuck You. To everyone else, prepare to spend the rest of your youth clerking something or waiting tables. In general, you will have to deal with, by and large, Stupid People. You may someday become one of the Stupid People, but for now you must clean up after them. As a young adult, here is how every job goes: Stupid People come in, make a mess, and you have to make them go away. Not the glamorous Paris Hilton life you thought it would be, now is it?
I'm sure a great deal of you will go on to live what you believe is a successful life. That's what really matters; is your life good and successful in your own eyes. Because if not through your eyes, who can judge your life? A great poet once said, "Life is what happens when you're making other plans." Sure, everyone wants to be rich and prosperous, but not everyone can be. In our system, there is plenty for the few and little for the plenty. But it has also been said that it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than a rich man to enter heaven. Society has made it all about money. We need money to live, but we don't need it to be happy. One of God's greatest gifts to us is that we decide what makes us happy.

So, seniors, I say to you, don't go out in "The Real World" and do great things. Go out and do good things. That's not too much to ask, is it?

Parental Control

2005-11-22T16:34:00.000-06:00

When I say "Parental Control" what is it you think of? Do you think about parents monitoring what their children view, what video games they play, what movies they watch, and what internet sites they visit? In the shallowest of senses, yes, this is what I am talking about. But there are responsibilities of being a parent that extend far beyond this simple definition. What I want to address is that there are far too many kids running amok in our supermarkets, movie theatres, and resturants with parents who don't know how to control thier children. Parental Control means that the parent is the dominant figure in the child/caregiver role. It is the dominant figure who makes the rules and expects others (in this case the children) to submit to the rules unquestionably.

I am aware at this point that I may sound overbearing, that I as a parent would be very authoritarian but allow me to explain. Children need rules, they need boundries, and most importantly they need to know why these rules and boundries are in place. So you see I am actually authoritative. Strict but fair. However, disciplinary styles aside, there are plenty of adults out there who are neither strict nor fair with themselves. I emphasize with themselves because this is the first type of parental control. In order to control others one must first learn to control themself. What I constantly run into on the streets are parents who feel the need to take thier children to a movie (not a kids movie, because that would be fine, but an adult movie) or to the theatre, or to a fancy resturant. Here, those children make it thier goal to ruin the evening of everyone around them. They run around knocking on the backs of chairs, throwing food, screaming at the top of thier lungs, the list goes on. If you cannot find a babysitter then stay at home! Please, I do not need to be watching a movie and feel my chair being kicked every half second, nor do I need for a whiny brat to be screaming his head off just because he can't get a $1 cheeseburger when I'm trying to enjoy my $40 filet portafino!

Ok, that makes me sound like a snob. I am not a snob, it's just that $40 is alot of money to me and when I get the nerve up to spend a fortune on an evening I expect it to go perfectly. So parents show some self-control and DO NOT take your kids out with you. I'll say this again, if you can't get a babysitter then stay at home!

The second step at parental control is control over your children. I'm not talking about what they see or hear but rather how they act. I wouldn't have a problem with children in a theatre or at a resturant if those children were well behaved. Don't assume your children will be little angels. Just because they're kids people like to put them into some kind of moral no-man's land. I'm reminded of a cartoon in the New Yorker where a puppy is before a judge and the judge says "not guilty because puppies do these things". Puppies are amoral animals, people are not! So have some control over your children. Even the most retarded dog learns not to pee on the carpet so the next time I see your four year old pissing himself in public I'm going to take the closest, bluntest object and beat you with it!

The third, and final, type of parental control is control of consumption. Not just what your child see's and hears but also what your child eats and drinks. Listen, kids are getting fatter and fatter and people blame the fast food industry but it isn't the fast food industries fault. It's the parents fault if thier child is obese. Here's an idea! Instead of monitoring what kind of video game your child plays how about also monitoring how long they play the game? One can be gluttonous with more than food you know.

On the Craft of Storytelling: Part II

2005-11-20T19:46:00.000-06:00

"Poets utter great and wise things which they do not themselves understand."
--Plato

Let us discuss this for a moment shall we? Poets, you see, are those who mesh thought into a wonderful and vibrant collection of words and because of this I have nothing against the heart of a poet. It is the heart of a poet that makes them so. What disgusts me is when they add things that have absolutely no relevance to what it is they are talking about. For instance, one could be talking about a lost love and in the first line write "Oh love of mine, your fleeting soul has no bounds". Now, I just pulled that line from my ass. Do I know what it means? NO! I don't have a clue but it sounded good to me. However, I could interpret that line to mean "My love which has left me is unable to make a commitment".

Now this is where the problem lies. I could go on and write an entire poem here, but it would not be from my heart because I have never had a problem with a girl who was unable to make a commitment. (My problem with women is that they all very commited, to a husband which is just my luck and a story for some other time) However, this is not to say that if I were to complete the poem it would not be good. Because the poem is not something that I myself have experienced first hand it becomes something secondary, something lacking divine substance.

What may, and in most cases does, insue is that others will percieve a poet as being deeper than he or she really is. This in turn will cause the poet to create one after another of senseless pseudo-emotional filth. Soon the poet will have a following of aspiring poets, writers and songwrites who beleive that no matter what one writes it'll be picked up and published. These poets will form a false sense of hope. There are too many poets who throw words together just because it sounds good and thier poems are just as confusing and vague as thier emotions inside them. Poems, like I said, come from the heart. Anybody who has ever been hurt can write a poem, consquently this too makes them a poet. But to be a poet (a true poet) well, that takes a lifetime of pain and sorrow.

untitled

2005-11-19T20:51:00.000-06:00

Find within ideas, images, creations beginning and repeating
Themes and majesties
Known to you
Drag them out
Tell old stories
Get your story straight
Rave and rave
Day to day
Apathy upon a face
What is this?
No one asks
Say it again
Say it louder
This has grown boring
Still progress
Use your voice
Strain it till exhaustion
That is the point
That is the purpose
Let people know
What it is that drives you
Tell your story
Same old story
A hundred times over
Tell it a hundred different ways
Eventually they’ll catch on

O-K-L-A-H-O-M-A....Oklahoma, OK!

2005-11-17T18:03:00.000-06:00

The following subject matter may not be suitable for all audiences. Readers discresion is advised.
This is my opinion on the state of Oklahoma. I do love this state, don't get me wrong, but there are a number of things that need to be addressed. I know that not every state is perfect. There has never been and most likely never will be a perfect society. My wish is not to make Oklahoma the best state in America or the world...just better than it is now.

We'll soon be livin' in a brand new state!
(this land was a wasteland, nobody wanted it. So it was given to the indians)
Brand new state, gonna treat you great!
(then the land was taken from them and they were forced onto reservations)
Gonna give you barley, carrots and pertaters,
(the state gives us, it's citizens, nothing)
Pasture fer the cattle, Spinach and termayters!
(only grief, lies, and shit)
Flowers on the prarie where the June bugs zoom,
(Our educational system is shit. Our teachers are paid less than most states, we have a huge drop out rate, and our children are some of the least educated in this country....Oh, but we kick ass at football! BTW--June bugs are retarded!)
Plen'y of air and plen'y of room,
(Our air and room is running thin due to illegal immegration from the south)
Plen'y of room to swing a rope!
(Tulsa had a race riot that nobody wants to admit to. The only proof of it's occurence is a small plaque)
Plen'y of heart and plen'y of hope.
(There is plenty of love in this state. Compassion and empathy we are lucky to have. But life rewards action not wishfull thinking and prayers)

Oklahoma, where the wind comes sweepin' down the plain
(You know you have entered Oklahoma when the roads turn to shit. In fact we have some of the worst roads around. Probably because nobody knows how to ride a bike or go for a jog! We are also one of the unhealthiest states in the nation)
And the wavin' wheat can sure smell sweet
(Meth labs litter our rural areas--drug dealing and addiction is worse here than many of the other states)
When the wind comes right behind the rain.
(We are at the crossroads of America--the link between north and south, east and west. As a result we have an unusually large gang problem and we are home to one of the biggest child prostitution rings in the country)
Oklahoma, Ev'ry night my honey lamb and I
(Early teen pregnancy and a high divorce rate plague us and our children)
Sit alone and talk and watch a hawk
(Not to mention we have one of the highest STD rates in the U.S.)
Makin' lazy circles in the sky.
(We belong to one of the cheapest states to live in yet we are also one of the poorest. It is nearly impossible to move out of this state to live somewhere else--we just can't afford the move!)
We know we belong to the land
(Agriculture is practically the only culture we are tolenant to! If one wants to the finer things--a.k.a the gay things-- then one has to travel out of state)
And the land we belong to is grand!
(Oklahoma is losing it's educated youth. There are thousands of college graduates who do not see a future for themselves here and wind up moving out of state. What this means for the state is that those who can make a difference "up and leave" forcing Oklahoma to remain how it is or worse)
And when we say Yeeow! Ayipioeeay!
(People are elected into office to take care of these things but where in the hell does our state revenue go? Not to the roads, not to our teachers and schools, not to bettering the community. No! They waste it, tax us more, then promise us that everything will be ok)
We're only sayin' You're doin' fine, Oklahoma!
(Our state is blinded by it's own innocence. The church refuses to see the bad, most citizens are to0 ignorant to know that anything is wrong, those with power fight to keep it, and those of us without power are afraid to make a stand)
Oklahoma O.K.!
(We are not the worst state in the nation, yet we are not the best either. We are mediocre, in the middle, and ignored. The time has come for this little chicken-fried state to make itself known)

Loyd Neighbors: What an interesting Fella

2005-11-15T21:55:00.000-06:00

Well, folks here I am.

It’s 10:00 p.m. on the evening of Thursday November 15th of 2005.

I’m sitting here not doing a whole hell of a lot of anything and I was reading a few pages out of a book about a guy I’ve read quite a lot of… His name is Charles Bukowski. Few people know of him and even fewer could actually put up with the guy when he was alive. Bukowski died on March 9th of 1993. That would put me at nearly 11 years old. The point is while I was considering that, and while I was reading things about his life I began to think about things from my past that I’ve come to find strikingly appealing to me. For example:

I went home at some point this past summer and one of my buddies decided that I needed to be introduced to an older gentleman who’d just walked into the diner we were sitting in. So I agree to it and we begin to approach the gentleman. And he was indeed a gentleman and probably the saddest and one of the most intriguing men I’ve had the pleasure of meeting in my short life. He’d obviously been drinking, but soon enough you’ll understand that he had a great reason to do so. My buddy introduced me to him and I kindly put out my hand for him to shake it; when he grasped my hand I could tell that his hand was slightly chilled, which was unusual I thought cause it was a rather warm night. He introduced himself as Neighbors, Loyd Neighbors. He was wearing a suit and there was a slight ting of alcohol on his breathe. He had a dull shine to his soulful blue eyes that reluctantly screamed of sorrow and sadness, he had a warming smile and a hand of ice. As we began to have a conversation he chose the topic of Life, he jumped right into it without hesitation. He wanted very much for me to understand how beautiful life was and how I should make the most of it.
”Do you have a girlfriend?” he asked.
I smirked and answered with a tiresome “No”
Loyd and I continued to converse about life and what a jewel it is and how I as a young man should understand what a blessing it is and how I should use my youthfulness to my advantage. He encouraged the idea of finding someone to share my life with but only as long as it wouldn’t interfere with my freedom and duty as a young man to go out and see the beauty of world.
“Use everyday to it’s fullest” he encouraged.
I’m glad that I was sincerely listening to what he had to say and not just brushing it off as drunk speak. I could tell he wasn’t that drunk he was just buzzed and feeling good. He was currently drinking a cup of coffee as we sat together at the bar of the diner. He never once wished to speak of his own life, wife, children, siblings or parents. But considering that he is 60 something years old, I can only assume that his parents are long gone. I certainly hope that he has siblings or someone in his life to comfort him but my guess is as good as yours on that one. However, considering that he was in a diner at nearly 1a.m. on a Wednesday night I can only assume that he has none of the above. Even though I sincerely hope that he does have a family of his own somewhere, someone in his life to speak of, even if he didn’t wish to do so that night with me.
After our pleasant conversation was over, I felt glad to have met Loyd Neighbors that evening. I’d like to speak with him again someday. Perhaps find out if he does have a family of any kind or not. I enjoyed what he had to say and I’ll never forget it. Especially after learning one thing about the man who wouldn’t speak of himself.
As my buddy and I were leaving. My buddy informed me that Loyd was the mortician for a local mortuary. That made me love and respect Loyd even more then I had previously. How incredibly noble and appropriate for a man who prepares the dead for burial to also feel the need to prepare others for life. May God be gracious with his soul.

P.S. I’d like to think that there’d be hundreds of people at that man’s funeral. I know I’d like to be there.

8:46

2005-11-14T15:16:00.000-06:00

The room was too cold. It had been too cold every morning for a week and a half. Bill thought about calling floor maintenance about it again but would worry about it later. He could probably do it himself to make things simpler. Instead, he turned on the lights and picked up the office mail from the floor. He sat down while sorting through each envelope.
The phone rang. Bill assumed it was his wife calling to remind him of his podiatrist appointment, as though the stinging pain in his left foot didn’t remind him every two seconds. “Bill Walters,” he answered. “Hi hon,” spoke a familiar voice on the other end.
“I’m calling to remind you about your doctor’s appointment today at 12:30,” Marilyn said. She had promised him she would call earlier in the morning. She was good at keeping her promises to him.
“Thank you, dear. I wasn’t going to forget but it’s nice of you to make sure,” Bill said as he sipped his coffee.
“I wish you didn’t work across the river otherwise I could take you myself,” she said caringly. “I just don’t like you doing all that walking. You could have a broken bone you know?” She knew he could take the pain but a little sincere concern from a loving wife never hurt anyone.
Bill thought she may have been exaggerated to about the true extent of the pain but appreciated the little things. The little cupcakes she sometimes put in his lunch that always brought a wide smile to his face. The hot coffee she always had ready for him in the morning. He knew that the coffee pot was set to a timer but she always changed to filters and beans every night. “I’ll be alright. Don’t you worry about me. What are you making for the Wilson’s tonight?”
“Well, I bought some scallops yesterday and I was thinking of making that seafood casserole we have sometimes,” she replied.
It’s not her best dish, Bill thought, but it didn’t have to be. They were hosting the neighbors, not the royal family. “That sounds fine, honey. Anything I need to get?”
“Well, we need stuff for salad. Could you pick up some greens and Italian dressing? You have a half-day today right? Oh, and some baby tomatoes.”
“Yes, dear. Stuff for salad. Anything I need to pick up that I’ll actually eat?”
“Har, har. You were the one that asked for salad last time, remember? We can’t just eat casserole and bread. We need something for color.”
“Oh and I don’t suppose Charlene will bring anything to add to the buffet?”
“We need to cover everything on our end. Fine, I’ll get the salad. You just worry about the doctor’s.” Fake resentment always helped to straighten Bill out.
“Of course I’ll go by the supermarket on the way home. Can we at least have some of that cheesecake for dessert?”
That homemade cherry cheesecake sent him into a frenzy last time Marilyn made it, but he would have to wait until later. “Charlene’s bringing the dessert, dear. I don’t know what she’s bringing,” she said somewhat apologetically.
“I can only hope for so much.” Bill knew she spoiled him too often anyway. He would be content to go on another day without the delicacy.
Marilyn switched tones. “Honey, Will called this morning right after you left.”
Bill sensed concern in her voice. “What is it?”
“Well, I think he wants to move in with that girlfriend of his.”
“Well, tell him he can’t.”
“I think it should ultimately be his decision, don’t you.”
“Yes, but I’m not paying whatever enormous sum it is that I’m paying in order for him to cohabitate with some girl he hardly even knows. I don’t even want to think about what he might do to screw up his life if he moves in with… this… older woman!”
“Bill, he’s twenty-one, she’s twenty-five.” There was a lengthy pause.
“Four years can make a big difference.” The truth was, Bill just didn’t like the girl. William brought her home one holiday and she ended up being the most sarcastic person with whom he’d ever had the displeasure of sharing a meal.
Another pause. Marilyn could fill up a room with dead air if a conversation turned into the waiting game. “Let’s talk about this later tonight.”
“Okay. Did I leave my watch on the kitchen counter again?” He was happy to avoid another serious conversation about how his little boy had become another corruption of the fairer sex.
“People thought I was crazy for giving you a chance back when we first went out,” Marilyn said.
“I thought we were going to talk about this later? You always do that, Marilyn. You don’t even listen to yourself talk sometimes!”
“Well do I do it always or sometimes?”
“You know what I mean. You say ‘We’ll talk about it tomorrow’ and then you go right on talking about it!”
“Well I think it’s important, Bill. Our son is making life-changing decisions right now and we aren’t there to show him the way. I’m sorry if you want me to let you off the hook but sometimes I need answers from you. I’m not trying to blindside you. I just want you to be involved.”
“There is nothing I care about more in this world than our son’s future. You know that. It’s just that… It’s just hard for me to put myself in his shoes. I feel like I’ve already made these decisions in my own life and I just want him to have all the best opportunities.” Bill reached over and drew the blinds open to reveal a spectacular view of the city that never got old for him. The windows were tall and narrow but it gave him a bit of comfort.
Marilyn sensed that Bill was letting this stress him too much. She sat down at the kitchen counter. “It’s okay, dear. We’ll all sit down together and talk this through very soon. I don’t want you to worry about this too much right now.”
Bill sighed, “Alright, tell him we’ll talk about it next time he comes in.”
“I will. And yes, you left it here on the counter.” She picked up his new Rolex she gave him for their anniversary. The second hand ticked silently past twelve. It was 8:46.
“Well, I’ve got to get to a meeting, honey.” Bill heard a strange sound that caught his attention. It was oddly familiar and out of place. He looked across the office into the hallway, but there was nothing to see. The sound was getting louder quickly.
“Sure. I’ll see you later tonight.” Marilyn could begin to hear a high pitched buzz through the phone.
Bill stood up at his desk. As he looked out the window of his office, his mind was in chaos. What is that?, he thought. Suddenly he knew what it was. Plane, he thought.
“Bill, what is that sound?”
“Marilyn,” was the last thing he said. His last thought was of his boy.

---

Marilyn flinched as an unusually loud crash sounded through the phone. Then there was silence that puzzled her. She thought Bill had dropped the phone. She hung up and dialed him again. There was no ring, only a busy signal. Marilyn didn’t know what had happened.
Behind her there was a calendar hanging on the refrigerator. Among the notes was writing in green marker. “Bill – podiatrist” was written in one of the squares. It was today. Tuesday, the eleventh.

Solitary Contemplation

2005-11-13T14:04:00.000-06:00

Here sits a product of solitary contemplation
Take notice of his wild eyes and messy hair
Observe if you will
The crease in his brow
The lines of his life sketched upon his face
It distorts him and makes him look older then he really is.

Read the lines and tell me
Does he often frown or smile
Is he mad
Or happy
Or does he just frown in contemplation
And laugh at the ironies of the world and his life
Does he laugh for sorrow?
Does he laugh for pity?
Does he laugh at himself in the bedroom mirror?
It’s possible that he frowns for the same reasons too.

How badly do you wish to know the answer to these questions?

Not so much or very much?
Either way I’ll tell you.
Most everything above is true.
A man will smile for many reasons.
Just as well he will frown for many.
Similar thoughts repeat and repeat again.
No matter as long as we learn from mistakes
and try not to fall in the same pits again.

Remnants and Redemption: To Soli w/care

2005-11-06T08:53:00.000-06:00

The following is a letter to Soli H from J Archer conserning the chasing of dreams. It is divided into two parts: Remnants and Redemption. Remnants is aimed specifically at Soli but the reader can identify with it's contents. Redemption, on the other hand, is written for an audience. An open question and an open theory to think about and perhaps discuss. My aim in this letter is to inspire as well as comfort those who have quit believing in themselves and have settled in contentless mediocrity. I hope you enjoy.

Remnants
I remember several years ago when the world was a different place. Not different on a large scale but different on a personal basis. When we were still in high school and graduation was anticipated but far far away. We had dreams then, just as we do now, but our dreams were different then. We could do anything then. I remember you wanted to go to art school (which you did) and write then sell a screenplay, short story, or poem or two. You wanted to be an actor. You had this glamorized outlook on the future. Right now you should be making movies or videogames. Instead you can barely afford to see anything and don’t have the time to play a game. Your dreams have begun to fade but at least you have managed to hold onto it this far.

I remember my dream as well. I would get my associates then head to the Atlanta Fight Academy to later become a fight choreographer and stunt man. But life got in the way. Three years, a bum wrist, and 60lbs later, here I am standing in the same spot I stood five years ago…static. My dreams have faded and I have put everything I loved on the shelf to collect dust. From time to time I walk by it and say to myself, “those days were good, I could have been something then”. Please, my friend, do not fall into this trap.

We both know of the men in middle age who suffer crisis about their lives and men in old age who instead of looking back on their lives with integrity look back on it with despair. For many the burden of jobs and family, social pressures and bad luck have taken their toll, destroying the dreams they once had. I hear them and so do you. The “I want“ statement. “I want to…get back into shape, volunteer, play the guitar, learn a language, write a novel, open a business, visit Europe, tutor a child, read more, eat right, etc, etc”. The noise from these voices is deafening. But still these people continue, as I have, to accept their fates and submit to the will of reality.

Wisdom beyond your years is a gift only if you are willing to embrace understanding. As a token I will help you to understand one thing. We are not gods. There is not enough time nor energy to conquer everything. An acceptance of one’s own limitations does not also mean an acceptance of one’s own failure. Those who succeed in life, that is, those who are able to fulfill their dreams are those who have clearly defined and narrowed their wishes down to only one or two goals. Focus on the one or two things and let nothing else distract you from it. This is my only advise to you.

I have had to alter my dreams, my goals, my ambitions. But you are still capable of fulfilling what you set out to do. I trust that you have the ability to make it. You have a real talent and need to hone it, believe in yourself, and let nothing stand in your way.

Redemption
Man is not God and he never will be. But when in history has this simple fact ever stopped man from trying to become more than what he has been made to be? A dream is ambition born in fantasy. A goal is ambition born in reality. It is nearly impossible for the two to cross over. For this to happen man needs to stop being man and become like God. However, the true god will never let this happen unless man accepts his mortality. What I mean by this is that man needs to be better than man in the absence of pride or put simply more human than human.

Have you ever died in a dream? Not many people have, and I don’t know of any except for myself. Urban legend says that if you die in a dream then you will die in real life but I will tell you what really happens. Dreams are life-like, they feel so real and when you die you really think that it is happening to you. You can feel the pain of what kills you, which is only for a second but after that there is nothing. This is not a remark on the afterlife, about that I have no clue. But when I say there is nothing I mean that the dream has ended. There is nowhere for the dream to continue because you are dead yet at the same time your mind is still in a dream like state. So for several minutes (or until you realize that you are awake and not dead) you sit there in darkness rethinking your life, repenting your sins, and praying for the safety of those you love. When you wake up life has new meaning. You know it was just a dream and yet at the same time you know how you would have reacted had you died. It is as if God has given you new meaning and you have been re-born.

If reality can kill a dream, and the dream is truly gone in fantasy, then if reality dies in a dream can it truly be gone in life? After waking up one is re-born, which is to say their old world has passed away, that being an old reality. What is reborn is a new world, a new reality, and in this there are bound to be new dreams, ambitions, and goals. In this way the fantasy world and the real world are one. To realize in yourself that limitations are only a boundary between dreams and reality and that you personaly are capable of pushing those boundries is the first step in becoming more than man.

So to each person who has given up on a dream I say die with it so that you may be re-born without the pressures you have put upon yourself. Go! Get in shape, write that novel, learn that language, fulfill your every want and desire. Only you can push the boundaries. Only you and noone else.

We are the Poets of Man

2005-11-04T15:45:00.000-06:00

Men we are and men we’ll be. We speak of life, freedom, nightmares, dreamscapes, tired eyes, winds of change, tragedies of the heart, terrors of the thoughtful mind, screams of wrongs we’ve witnessed, things of goodness and troubles of hard times. We witness within the world the things that others may wish to forget. We tell the stories of faces we’ve never seen, tales never told. We rub the nose of the world in the shit that is left lying around for the future generations to step into blindly.

We hold nothing back, and we take no prisoners. There is no way for you to join our numbers. You’re either one of us or you’re not. We cannot decide whether or not you will be heard. We do not even know if we ourselves are ever truly heard. Yes, we speak of riddles in riddles, we tell not our mind’s eye to the truth that you seek. We tell it to those with eyes enough to understand and ears enough to listen. Mumbling, yes, we do a lot of that. We talk to ourselves and listen in our cryptic heads to tongues which before remained unheard. I tell you this now so that you may grasp even a hint of why we as men do what we do and say what we say nothing is easy when you speak the truth as truth but wish for it to be a secret in the end.

Men are poets when they speak of hearts and listen to the cries of the world and then take it upon themselves to continue to tell these tales over and over again until eventually we all find what we want amongst the words of thousands of men who are speaking and searching in unison for one thing to be know. We tell our stories and repeat ourselves quite often. But know this not everyone understands one message. We must tell the story more then once until eventually the whole world knows of what we speak. So now it should come to know surprise that we tell the same basic stories over and over. And please do not confuse what I mean and what Hollywood does as being the same thing for we send a message they’re just in it for the money and that’s not what this is about.

This is about telling the world of itself, of it’s heart, it’s soul, it’s love, it’s thirst for freedom, it’s desire, it’s liberty, it’s want, it’s longing, it’s will to speak, it’s amorous, it’s conviction to the human spirit, it’s justice, it’s confusion, it’s underbelly, it’s sickness, it’s disease, and it’s ever constant cry for a listener. We are but men and we just want to let our spirits known in the hopes of setting another free.

Pace Pace Mio Dio

2005-11-03T21:09:00.000-06:00

Pace Pace Mio Dio,
Esteem in thyself bestilled
the heart, the mind; mine
grows weary

A slave in jest
before demons and men;
My God save me
from torture
from sin

Pace Pace Mio Dio,
unload this burden carried
too much, too soon; a mule
would falter

My soul ablaze
deep inside of me;
My God save me
from thyself
from eternity

Pace,
Pace,
My God Peace
Entri morte mia vita

My Apologies

2005-10-30T19:08:00.000-06:00

Oh my dear tortured soul Maslow. My God, how I have forsaken you.

This entire time I thought you were just an old pathetic fool. Believing the world could be a better place, that we all are searching for something more, a higher ground to save us from the rising waters of our own isolation and fraility. I see now that I was wrong.

For you see, you and I have more in common then one would realize. Sure my mother wasn't as crazy as yours and I haven't any siblings. However, I am sure that you can understand the weight of my solitude as an only child for you too must have felt lost and alone amongst a family of seven children. Also, my dear friend Abraham, my father has also pushed me toward law (of which I am interested but cannot find the place to fit it into my life), I, just as you did, failed my first year at a community college and have rebounded with above average marks. We both have had a strong inferiority complex that drove us to succeed in physical endeavors which, after having given up, turned to books and a path towards academia. I understand now Maslow, you have made a believer out of me.

However, I am not a true convert to your humanistic approach! Nay, like a horse, nay I say! Though there are those out there who strive for self-actualization there are a hundred times more of those who simply wish to get by. People, for the most part, want to remain in a state of equilibrium. The majority is not like you or I. The majority does not wish to dispell thier vices, contemplate the depths of infinity, or question the nature of God. They are not philosophers; they are not mental warriors pursuing the intellectual holy grail. They are content to stay hidden in the cave, seeking refuse in it's pitch dark hollows.

So it is here that we must part ways Abraham. I will always keep in touch for you and I are brothers now.

A Toast to Life and to Living

2005-10-23T14:48:00.000-05:00

A dialogue between several chums chumming over a glass of chumwater.

Soli H: Remember when we were all younger and we wanted to grow up so badly that we thought grown ups were lieing to us?

J Archer: No

Kurt B: I remember wanting to be older so much that I'd tried everything to appear older.

Soli: I know I thought I was just a different breed of the human race and that I'd never really grow up to be big and strong like those I admired as a youngster.

Anna O: I thought you made a good Nazi.

We all ignore Anna. She's a little wacked out of her mind and has had a little too much chumwater if you ask us.

Soli: Did we ever imagine that life would be so messed up once we finally got here? I know I didn't.

Kurt: Me neither. I mean as soon as you graduate from high school you're expected to just move to the next level with grace and profenciency.

J Archer: Then we struggle for four or five years balancing school, work, relationships. I mean that is more stress then we've ever had to handle. Then they act suprised when we fail and drop out!

Anna O leaves us to chit-chat with some young pup straight from infancy, that is, high school.

Soli: I remember thinking grown ups had it made 'cause they didn't have to go to school. Boy did I have it backwards.

J Archer: I always envied them, and I still do. Sure they work all day but so do I. Oh woopdeedoo you have car payments, housepayment, utility bills, taxes wah wah wah. So do I!

Kurt: No you don't. You still live with your parents and they pay for your car, your insurance, and...

J Archer: And what? My school? No sir, I pay for that. I get paid crap at my job and all of it goes into my next semester. When I can no longer pay for school I'll start taking loans. Don't think for a second that my parents will pay for that. Neither will the government. Damn the Expected Family Contribution!

Soli: Still, it breaks my heart to think that things could be any worse. I'm not speaking for (and or) of myself here.

Looking back at Anna O who is really laying the flirt down on the post-high school teenybopper

Soli (cont'): I'm just looking back in retrospect of all the people in this world that I know and all the emotional bullshit that we have to put up with and all the emotional bullshit that we push onto one another from day to day as a result of work related stress, taxes, bills, house details, car payments and more.

Kurt: Hear Hear!

Some noise catches our attention at the back of the pub. A lovers spat no doubt. The woman has her shoes off and is beating her boyfriend with the heel as the bouncer escorts them out.

Soli: I can see why people get stressed over somethings but why do so many of us snap at the ones we love the most? Easy targets maybe or is it because they love us that we feel they will be more understanding and not push us away as easily as someone else might?

J Archer: In the end, beyond the stressors of living and the battle to thrive in this demanding and heartless world, I believe that deep down we just want things to be simpler. We don't care about achieving an idealized sense of self. Instead, we just want to get by, from day to day, and to be with the ones we love. We snap on those we care about because it is really the world we wish, but cannot, attack.

Kurt: A projection defense?

J Archer: More of displacement really.

At this point we are joined by Kinsey T and Abedje K. Anna O and her new boyfriend stroll over seconds later. The 'Bobber pulling a chair over and Anna O taking a seat in his lap.

Soli: Welcome to the future one and all. Welcome to our years of suffering and substantial learnings of life that will mold us into who we wanted to be as youngster, may we live to be that strong admirable figure of wisdom in another youngsters life. To think all we need to do is endure pain, loss, grief and love. I'm ready. I hope you are too.

We all raise our chumwater high and toast to the future, regardless of how scary it might be.

Two Old Crows

2005-10-08T15:16:00.000-05:00

How about, the time we pretended to go to the end of the world and watch the sky fall grey as the devistation of our lives krept past behind us and then we acted as if we didnt notice?

And then we thought we heard the crow caw, but it turned out to be an old man dying.

That old man was you.

Then, one man dying turned into two.

The second was me.

Two old crows,Dying and no one noticed that we were gone.

Then they found our words scratched deep into the bark of that old tree we once called home.

Our story will be told.

Rain, and the Nature of things

2005-09-27T15:00:00.000-05:00

When it rains.....

It reminds me of good times, bad times and all the times I've felt the most alone, the most calm, and the most happy in life.

It feels good to know I see the rain as a companion now ... I didn't always enjoy it. As a kid I feared the rain because I knew I was going to have a gloomy day in doors. But now I appreciate it. I run outside at the first sight of rain just so I can feel the first few drops hit my face and cool my skin. And if it's pouring I let it soak my clothes as I open my arms outstretched welcoming the change in weather from hot to cool. The reason why I enjoy it so much now has nothing to do with any kind of fetish or sick obsession I have with nature but because I see in nature what we're all suppose to see, and that is beauty. I dont expect the beauty I see in nature to be the same that you see. I just think we should all start taking notice, quit taking it all for granted.

For me,

It's like nature is atempting to remind all of us of the sorrow that hides within us all. And the rejuvenation we can have if we allow ourselves to let that sorrow out. Doesn't the planet feel so fresh just after a good hard rain. Trust me if you let the sorrow out, let the tears flow every once in a while, then you too will feel better about yourself because you were able to let it out and you'll feel rejuvenated just like our still beautiful planet after a great rain.

Ceci n'est pas une pipe

2005-09-19T21:03:00.000-05:00

Oh Magritte you magnificent bastard!
You created a philosophical debate over such an absurd statement as "Ceci n'est pas une pipe". What a bold statement to make! So simple and yet so deep! And what is it with the psychology references? Paintings such as The Pleasure Principle, The Interpretation of Dreams, and of course the Psychologist! Is this how you imagine us? Have we offended you in any way? Or is this how you show your love for we explorers of the mind?

I am torn between verbally attacking you and loving you. Do I want to speak out against surrealism or hang your work on my wall? Would putting the Psychologist on a T-shirt and wearing it to Abnormal be a good thing or would it be an insult to my future profession? These are questions that I must look deep into the art world to discover an answer for. Even if that means I have to endure the pain of...ugg...modern art and probe the senseless dribble of the subjective art world. But in the end I still may find, regarless of your taste for psychology, that I am still a fan.

Dylan Thomas: "Do Not Go Gentle Into that Good Night"

2005-09-11T10:01:00.000-05:00

I really like this poem. It, I feel, is a great inspiration when you feel like you've failed, the burden is too heavy, or like you can't go forward anymore.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

On the Craft of Storytelling

2005-08-30T08:52:00.000-05:00

Listen,

In the last couple years the film industry has not put out one decently original idea. Everything that has made it's way to the big screen has either been based off a book, remade, or retold. Now, I'm not claiming to be some great writer, some grand master of the literary world, but I'm not getting paid for talent either! The screenwriters are getting paid for talent and thier talent seems to be just a copy and paste style of writing. What has become of the Craft of Storytelling? In a world of quick development, cheap labor, and mass production where have all the grand architects gone? The one's who create what has never before been seen or heard, those who consistently (and tastefully) push the envelope. Alas, "there is nothing new under the sun"

Do not get confused when I talk about craft. This is differnent than art. Art is something subjective, only relevant to the artist, whereas craft is made for an audience. However, art is a reflection of our society and through art one can see how the craft is dying. One can only look at the evolution of modern art from impressionism down to op-art and see with bold clarity the relationship it has on film, literature and music (the later two will be discussed more fully in months to come). Impressionism was great art, art how it should be, and so was expressionism, fauvism, cubism, and hell, even art deco. Then there came abtract art followed by pop art and op-art, all talentless expressions of self which have replaced the sould for a pseudo-soul. Art went from great canvasses emersing you into a different world and time to the world of Freudian projective tests! One gigantic Rorcharch plastered on the wall!

So what does this have to do with the state of film? I'll tell you, since you really want to know. Art has become subjective. "What do you think this means?", "And how does this one make you feel", and "What is the artist trying to convey here?". Artists have tried to become, through their vagueness, profound. But they are not ready to be profound. Profoundness comes through years of pain, joy, loss, gain, and loss repeated. Profoundness is a product of wisdom. Yet, here are thousands of writers, poets, musicians, and artists who have been reared apart from the true craft and nurtured in the bossom of subjectivity. They pour symbols and abstractions into thier work hoping that somebody, anybody will see something inside it and call them genius. As a result, thier ability to actually craft a story becomes hindered. Unwittingly they drown the plot, the character development, and the meaningful dialogue in thier obscurity. Sadly, the craft falls victim and drowns also.

There is noway for me to end this rant. Just as there is no way for me to save the craft, at least, not by myself. So I leave you to ponder the future of storytelling and to let you decide it's fate. I will be here, studying the classics, finding out what went wrong, and preparing for war. Because I will not let it fade without a fight.

The first in a series of nothing

2005-08-18T08:24:00.000-05:00

I'm always sitting in my room, staring at a blank computer screen. Watching the cursor blink and blink and blink, as if waiting for it to begin scribing this great masterpiece of American literature. Once I realize that nothing is happening and that sitting there is a waste of my time, I will close my laptop, turn on the TV, and pop in the Family Guy. That Stewie Griffin is hilarious!

Anywho, I've created this blog mainly for myself. To try and work out some of my artistic differences or lack therof.