something else

AOTD Tuesday August 17th 2010

2010-08-17T22:40:00.000-05:00

comission fur on fur (aka Chewbacca Riding a Giant Squirrel Fighting Nazis) by gamefan84

AOTD Sunday August 15th 2010

2010-08-15T18:40:00.000-05:00

catch the stars by detail24

AOTD Saturday August 14th 2010

2010-08-14T23:52:00.000-05:00

i decay II by J4K0644061x

AOTD Friday August 13th 2010

2010-08-13T23:56:00.001-05:00

Furioso deluge by *sc0pe

AOTD Thursday August 12th 2010

2010-08-12T23:14:00.003-05:00

A Stranger Leo 57 years old by BenoitPaille

Other People

2010-08-11T10:52:00.001-05:00

I feel bad for other people. This is not because they are below me or that I am a better person. I feel bad for other people for the fact that they somehow get blamed for how dissatisfied I am with myself. Let me explain.

In today's world it's hard to not just sit back and absorb the fuckton of information and stimulation floating around our heads. And if you are a social networking/technology whore such as myself this turns into a fuckton of fuckton of information. All day long I read other people's blogs, look at their photos, marvel at theirs drawings, listen to their music, watch their videos, consider their opinions, read their writings, compare their lives to my own. And this is what upsets me. A little voice in my head goes off screaming at me about all the stuff they can do that I can't. All the thoughts they think that I won't. All the opportunities I miss out on that they didn't. And it just plain sucks.

Now if there is one thing I've slowly come to realize is that we humans are more alike then not. If this is true that means most everyone else is feeling this way too. Usually this would come as a comfort to know that you're not alone. Knowing that other people in your class bombed a test that you failed is almost as good as the feeling you get when you get an A. We are social creatures, we don't like to be alone, no matter how much we like dig into are little comfort holes of depression and isolation. But I digress. Usually knowing others are feeling the same as I is a comforting thought, but in this case it's not. Because no matter what I do, I will not be able to convince myself I am as cool/funny/witty/talented/smart/creative/amazing as everyone else around me. And the best part is, that's not even what I want.

I don't want to be able to say, "Wow I'm awesome at ________." That feeling of mediocrity is the fuel that drives us to keep being better. Maybe not everyone needs this, but it does help. Anytime I take a photo I am proud of I will see something that blows mine out of the water (in my opinion) and all I wanna do is top that. And in a way this is very helpful in the long run as my work will get better in someways or at least my experiences will grow. But until I am an old man looking back at my life I won't be able to appreciate all I've seen and done and read and thought. And in a world where I have a 3G Internet connection in my pocket practically anywhere I go I want my satisfaction NOW!

I realize this is a bit insane to wish for as I know the world does not work in such ways. If one of my biggest problems is that I don't think I do enough cool shit then I think I am living a pretty happy and comfortable life. So for now I will continue to feel bad for other people while I silently sit there and hate them for their achievements when all they really deserve is praise for their awesomeness. All I can hope for is that some people hate me for the same reasons.

Mr. Firth and an Intro to LEDs

2010-02-04T19:09:00.000-06:00

One of the people who really got me into video art initially was David Firth, the creator of fat-pie and Salad Fingers. At first I liked him because of his funny/scary/weird falsh animations, but soon I stumbled upon his video work. While mostly consisting of stop-motion work, there was something about them that always seemed a bit deeper and meaningful to me.

While I don't plan to do a video much in his style, he has been a huge inspiration to me and my work with video.

I am not sure about any of you, but when it comes to LEDs and me all I know is, "Look at the pretty colors!" Before I embark on this LED/VIdeo project I should learn me some stuffs about them. If any of you care to learn too, I found a quick and easy tutorial on them here.

LED Video Project

2010-02-02T15:17:00.001-06:00

I am not sure this is exactly what I want to do with my project yet, but I have some basic ideas brewing. While I was in the first section of 2D Digital Studio I studied the artist Erwin Redl. Redl's main work focuses on LED installation pieces where he fills large rooms with grids of LED's.His work is very minimal, simple, clean, and vast which all are things I am attracted to when it comes to art. Ever since then I have wanted to work with LED's somehow.

My other great interest in the art world is video related work. In the past I have made a couple "arty" videos:
I would like to continue exploring with video art and involve LED lights in some way. Those are my thoughts thus far, as more come I'll post them.

Nexus One

2010-01-28T15:09:00.001-06:00

I noticed that Google's new phone, the Nexus One, can come pre-jailbroke. When the iPhone first came out the big thing to do with them was to have them "jailbroke". This meant that you could edit and use the software in ways that Apple's original software would not allow. This was also a way to have and iPhone if you didn't have AT&T as your provider. Google's Nexus One can be "jailbroken" by Google for you for a hefty fee. I am not sure it's worth the price, but it intrigues me that companies are watching the illegal things consumers are doing with their products and finding a way to make a profit off of them.

Here is a video of someone showing off some of the capabilities of the Nexus One.

While it seems that it will not quite live up to the iPhone, it seems like a close option for those who want a smart phone like the iPhone, without paying the high monthly fee.

Top 20 Albums of 09

2009-12-21T12:22:00.001-06:00

Well here they are:

10. Say Anything - Say Anything
9. Dead Man's Bones - Dead Man's Bones
8. Black Moth Super Rainbow - Eating Us
7. HEALTH - GET COLOR
6. Animal Collective - Merriweather Post Pavillion
5. Fuck Buttons - Tarot Sport
4. Matt and Kim - Grand
3. Passion Pit - Manners
2. The Decemberists - The Hazards of Love
1. Grizzly Bear - Veckatimest

and now for the albums that didn't quite make the top 10 that you probably don't care about:

11. The Used - Artwork
12. Modest Mouse - No One's First and You're Next
13. Leathermouth - XO
14. Between the Buried and Me - The Great Misdirect
15. Silverstein - A Shipwreck in the Sand
16. Discovery - LP
17. Karen O and the Kids - Where the Wild Things Are OST
18. Muse - The Resistance
19. Riceboy Sleeps - Riceboy Sleeps
20. Sunn O))) - Monoliths and Dimensions

(((O)))

2009-11-24T00:13:00.004-06:00

fotd
fuck
world
human
hours
time
people
life
shit
name
please
tonight
black
happy
sorry
death
birthday
stop
totd
trying
mouse
tomorrow
animal
average
epic
million
body
facebook
looking
century
lost
miles
check
modest
cult
cloud
actually
damn
woot
money
duluth
jarid
days
album
found
takes
kill
real
hour
chicago
thanks
read
form
fuckin
amazing
shoes
water
sweat
night
times
seeing
reading
condition
deadly
including
creator
sigur
love
university
slow
shut
planet
music
originally
earth
holy
soon
shot
line
week
srsly
blue
sick
past
house
bear
monday
dammit
actual
gonna

Dead Man's Bones

2009-10-02T13:54:00.005-05:00

Dead Man's Bones is the music project of actor Ryan Gosling (Stay, The Notebook, Murder By Numbers) and Zach Shields. The best way I can describe their style would be Gospel Horror Bog Zombie Folk Indie. It's rather fresh and new which surprised me. I read in an interview with them that they tried to make sure that most of their mistakes they made while recording were added to the album. Kinda neat if you ask me. Their self titled album comes out October 6th and I would highly suggest you all check it out. Here are a couple of tracks I quite enjoy:

Pa Pa Power

In the Room Where You Sleep

My Body's a Zombie for You

Existential Paradox Art in Route to the West

2009-09-13T22:34:00.003-05:00

I acquired a collection of fibers that would grant me flight to the wonderful land of disillusion. I had never misplaced my time in such areas, so I allowed such transitions to occur. The first obstruction that presented itself to me was the fact that my documentation of such travels began its first two sentences with the letter “I”. From an existential mind this would have no serious threats to me, for it was “I” who put them there and it was “I” who decided to so abruptly say, “fuck you grammar, this is my essay and if ‘I’ want to start my essay with ‘I’ twice, then ‘I’ am going to do it!” The inherent problem with this is that I hate existentialism, and also hate it when documentations or publications of any form contain repetitive words. After that rant, and the one about to be mentioned, I have placed what looks like the first Roman numeral in my spewings eleven times. My concerns with such egotistical implications, is that when attempting to describe a simple trip to Hollywood to see Chris Mars’ new gallery, long winded tangents of referring to oneself have bored or frightened about forty to fifty-six percent of the readers off. Jarid (as to avoid anymore “I” problems Jarid has decided to switch to the third person) apologizes for such horrid actions and will now continue with what he intended on writing about (that being an overly wordy pretentious surreal documentation of a trip to Hollywood).
Jarid ventured fourth into the perturbed sea of fast alloys and inconsideration. His aspirations whispered sweet nothings into his ears as he attempted to not end the pulse of himself or those around him. A giant sleek metal bird awaited him, set to leave the crust in two collections of sixty minutes. Upon arrival to the nest of said birds, Jarid climbed through an artificial gash placed on the side of the bird in order to prepare for such leaps of space. All too soon, the pungent odors of fame and wasted papered scripts would be writhing throughout his body, and the sad sorry fool did not even see it coming. Jarid soon realized that the flight had not even taken off and he had rambled on for more than a page now, and aimed to repair such atrocious acts on his part. The flight made it to Hollywood safely, he was unsettled by all the crazy people in Hollywood, he saw Chris Mars’ gallery, and then he went home, the end.
While reading literary collections on art, one can notice the immense forests of words one must venture through to arrive at a coherent story. To some this could be considered an enjoyable process, while to others an inefficient waste of time and paper. But what of those writings that contain both the forest and the straight forward? Obviously it is a completely original idea that has never been done before and the brilliant author of such creations should be praised for his genius and giving high markings on his works. Or, he could be scolded for switching viewpoints mid-essay and claiming to do something original in a trite stale world where everything has been done before rendering himself a stuck up liar. He shall leave these conclusions up to you. Good luck.

New Shit... Oops I Meant to Say Wickson! Same Thing

2009-08-21T17:36:00.003-05:00

The next Wickson! album is possibly going to be recorded with an actual keyboard and not music loops. This is just me messing around a bit. I thought I would put it up here to see what you all think. I don't know how to play anything really so it probably sounds very shitty and I am sure a final product would have beats and other layers added to it. So based off that, what you think?

Scared

2009-08-21T01:04:00.002-05:00

I am going to try to make a top ten albums and top ten songs of the 2000's... This is gonna be ugly. I expect much debate, loss of sleep, and minor drug habits forming during the process of picking them out. Damn the torpedoes!

Bigbadaboom

2009-08-01T13:12:00.002-05:00

Lately I have been finding myself thinking about the end of world. This is mostly because of my insane boss who thinks the bible can tell us how UFO's can fly through space at such great speed and that you can find out the exact day an time Jesus was born by measuring the length of one of the pyramids in Egypt. This being said I have been looking around and witnessing the happenings of our lovely planet and realizing that we are kinda going downhill. Not that I think we are heading to an end, but shit is going down, and if you are into that whole Mayan calender thing we is fucked circa December 21st 2012. Now I could get into a long speculative rant about how this is going to happen, if it will happen, what we should be doing to avoid it, and other bullshits, but I think I am just going to post some songs that I think fit into ugly world/end of worldness. Let us begin class!

Screenwriter's Blues (Live) - Soul Coughing
Lyrics

This song is not about a doomsday scenario or anything like that, but I think it paints a rather lovely/ugly picture of out mindset in this day and age. To me this way of life will lead to a drab conclusion of our existence. We are becoming boring fuckbots who seek cheap thrills, though the line about the sun does bring a bit of hope. The sun will rise tomorrow, with or without you.

Road to Peace - Tom Waits
Lyrics

Tom Waits in more on the road (no pun intended, though it's not really a pun... eh, no using a line similar to the song title intended? Meh) to the doomsday thing. To me, the life style and mindset from Soul Coughing's song will lead to a world like this (which when I look around I am seeing). That being said, it sucks. My favorite line from this song is ," Maybe God himself is lost and needs help." I don't like this because it's dissing God, I like it because it's telling us we gotta suck it up and make some changes for ourselves. Yes, it would be nice if we could sit down and ask some supreme dude to stop raining shit down on the world, but (this being if God does exist) what if he/she/it is just as scared as us and confused. We gotta step up and make changes for ourselves, or accept our demise.

In This Twilight - Nine Inch Nails (Sorry I couldn't find a downloadable mp3)
Lyrics

This song is what we is heading for I believe. While Mr. Reznor paints the last day of life beautifully, it is not what I would like to happen. I like living, ya know? There isn't much else to say about this song. We die, sky is pretty, Trent is the shit.

Yeah so that's that. Maybe if we're lucky the ice caps will melt, we'll all drown, and Al Gore will die laughing.

Pine-Sol

2009-06-24T18:23:00.004-05:00

This is the part of me that needs medication
This is the part of me that believes in heaven
This is the part of me that thinks outer space is all dead
This is the part of me that wishes it was with it
This is the part of me that's trying to be funny
This is the part of me that loves my parents
This is the part of me that thinks that ants are cavemen
This is the part of me that thinks all humans are ants
This is the part of me that learns from sitcoms
This is the part of me that means nothing
And I don't know
Where I could go away and you could wish
That I had stayed or just stayed gone
And I don't know
And I don't know at all
So, out of the context and into what you meant
And you know your reasons
You don't know who you are
But you know who you want to be
I don't know
So you go to the library to get yourself a book
And you look and you look
But you didn't find anything to read
And I don't know at all
Left all my kinder parts rusting and peeling
That guy was complaining as he looked at the ceiling
My nose isn't that big, it looks nothing like me
We're all doctors trading sadness for numbness
Grass looks much greener but it's green-painted cement
The mayor's machines are there cleaning the pavement
You can't make dirt clean so we'll just lemon-scent it

-I.B.-

Before Your Mother Wakes Up in the Morning

2009-06-23T07:03:00.009-05:00

Ok I don't have much to say this time other then I has some music me thinks you needs to check out, srsly. First is a group I was very excited for and they exceeded my high expectations ten fold. They are called Discovery and consist of Rostam Batmanglij (Vampire Weekend's keyboardist) and Wes Miles (Ra Ra Riot's singer). If you are going into it expecting Vampire Weekend or Ra Ra Riot then you may be disappointed. BUT if you are going into expecting amazing electro smooth dreamy ethereal amazingness then you will be all YAY. Their debut album LP will be released on July 7th so if you like it get it yo.

Discovery - Orange Shirt

Next I wanna talk about some music that has been out for a while. I wanna talk about The Decemberists' new album, The Hazards of Love. At first the album was kinda meh to me because I was expecting another The Crane Wife (There latest album prior to Hazards for those of you ignorant readers) which was rather rude of myself. After many many listens I feel now that I rather do enjoy the album, this being even more so post me seeing them in concert (they were fucking great by the way). Colin Meloy (lead singer) has this ability to tell stories whilst singing unlike anyone I have ever heard in that the sounds he produces seem to be telling the complete opposite of the lyrics he launches out of his mouth. The Rake's Song is a very good example of this. It's more of an upbeat song with a very interesting beat with a refrain consisting nothing but the word "alright". The drums in this song sound like they're being played on a metal garage door if you ask me, but anyway the song is about a couple who have 4 children. Sadly the 4th child and the mother die during the birthing process. After this the husband becomes annoyed with having children and he kills them all... Yeah. Check it.

The Decemberists - The Rake's Song

NEXT is some new Modest Mouse entitled The Whale's Song. Splitting lead guitar with a post-rockesque build up at the end. I have an uneasy feeling about their new albums coming out later this summer. So far they have released 4 songs, two of which I like and two of which I find very half-assed and not Modest Mousey. I won't tell you which is which though, don't want to influence your thoughts on the subject.

Modest Mouse - The Whale's Song

Well there you go for now, I will probably do more of these in the future if people like em. Happy listening doods!

The Perfect Fit

2009-06-19T19:12:00.003-05:00

The Dresden Dolls - The Perfect Fit

I could make a dress
a robe fit for a prince
i could clothe a continent
but i can't sew a stitch

i can paint my face
and stand very very still
its not very practical
but it still pays the bills

i can't change my name
but i could be your type
i can dance and win at games
like backgammon and life

i used to be the smart one
sharp as a tack
funny how that skipping years ahead
has held me back

i used to be the bright one
top in my class
funny what they give you when you
just learn how to ask

i can write a song
but i cant sing in key
i can play piano
but i never learned to read

i can't trap a mouse
but i can pet a cat
no i'm really serious!
i'm really very good at that

i can't fix a car
but i can fix a flat
i could fix alot of things
but i'd rather not get into that

i used to be the bright one
smart as a whip
funny how you slip so far when
teachers dont keep track of it

i used to be the tight one
the perfect fit
funny how those compliments can
make you feel so full of it

i can shuffle cut and deal
but i can't draw a hand
i can't draw a lot of things
i hope you understand

i'm not exceptionally shy
but i've never had a man
that i could look straight in the eye
and tell my secret plans

i can take a vow
and i can wear a ring
and i can make you promises but
they won't mean a thing

can't you do it for me, i'll pay you well
fuck i'll pay you anything if you could end this

can't you just fix it for me, it's gone berserk...
fuck i'll give you anything if
you can make the damn thing work

can't you just fix it for me, ill pay you well,
fuck ill pay you anything
if you can end this
hello, i love you will you tell me your name?
hello, i'm good for nothing - will you love me just the same?

And now for something completely different... I think that drama is a conditional occurrence for the continuation of life. At any given time something is always wrong no matter who where or what. I think that we create and seek out bad and dramatic things when there is a lack of it provided to us via nature. In third world countries people have to worry about starvation and disease, in suburbia we have to worry about our cars breaking down and getting the medication for all the shit we think we have. People who actually lead hard lives are depressed because the lead depressing lives, people here are depressed because "no one gets them" and "no one has ever felt the (sadness, isolation, anger, confusion, darkness) that they feel". If you can realize that other people do feel your depression it might help a lot. Being sad together makes things easier. After you know you bombed a test, it always makes you feel better to know someone else bombed it. And next time your car dies just remember that your hair is not on fire. And the next time your hair is on fire just remember that your hair is not on fire while you are listening to Nickleback. And If your hair is on fire while you are listening to Nickleback... well you are fucked and my (insert your choice of Deity here) have mercy on your soul.

I am not sure where I am going with this one. I am just sick of drama and sadness and shit, but it's unavoidable so I brog about it. Yay internetzzzzz.

NINCOCKSIGURROS

2009-05-31T11:52:00.005-05:00

MY BLOG IS DEAD AND NO ONE CARES IF THERE IS A HELL I AM SURE MY BLOG WON'T BE THERE BECAUSE THAT REALLY MAKES LITTLE TO NO SENSE AT ALL!!!

I just got back from a mini road trip to Chicago to see the incredible Nine Inch Nails (i.e. Trent Reznor and who ever he finds to play with him at the time). It was probably one of the greatest and worst times of my life. Greatest for when Trent jumped into the crowd I got to touch and hold his hand for 5 seconds (holy shit!!!). Worst because this is probably going to be the last time I see NIN in concert. Trent has said that he is not done making music under "NIN" but he is done touring. All the tour shirts said "NIN: 1989-2009" on the back and the tour's name is "Waves Goodbye" so that really sucks...

On the other hand sandwich the whole Trent/Chicago amazingness was two 8 hour bus rides to and from. In order to not go insane from boredom, Townsie and I started a little game to see how many words and phrases we could slip the word "cock" into. Sadly I lost my list of all the ones we had, but I shall see what I can recall:

Cockolate
Cocktopus
Cockpot
Cocktagon
The Cock Exchange
Helicockter
Cockstnatinople
Cock Tower
General Cockster's Last Stand
Hockey Cock, Cocky Puck, Cocky Cock
Slap Cock
Cock Trial
Heart shapped cocket
Cock and Roll
A cock of sheep
Cock Martins
The Red Cocks
The White Cocks
Cock strap
Girl Cock
A Cock to Remember

Anyway you get the picture. Everyone else on the bus loved us I am sure...

Here is you, "Jrd says listen to this now" song of the day:

Click Here: We Are Scientists - Hoppipolla (Sigur Ros Cover)

We Are Scientists did a cover of Sigur Ros's Hoppipolla and I think it's pretty damn great. I never thought I would see the day where a band would have the balls to cover Sigur, let alone pull it off. It's nothing amazing, but I think it's very nice to listen to. Anyway, enjoy!

Dark Knight of the Soul

2009-05-15T13:29:00.003-05:00

Sparklehorse, Danger Mouse, David Lynch, The Shins, The Flaming Lips, The Pixies, and much more all in ONE album. HOLY SHIT!!! It's called Dark Knight of the Soul. As of right now they are having some legal problems getting it in stores, but for now you can listen to it free on NPR (Click Here). In other news, as of 4 pm today I am done with school. Meh. I kinda messed this semester up, but oh well all I can do is keep going cuz time is linear... I think?

20

2009-05-08T10:56:00.007-05:00

I will never be a teenager again.

Mogwai - Acid Food Live (Right click and save as to download)

Lyrics:

What happened after the storm
Was everyone okay
I tried to call again
I think they've gone away

(Will you look the other way)
(Will you look the other way)
(Will you look the other way)
(Will you look the other way)

I dreamt of an ice-age today
Cold and white to see
I walked for miles and miles
They came back another way
We learned them as we went
Forgot them straight away
The ones we left behind
The ones we sent away

(Will you look the other way)
(Will you look the other way)
(Will you look the other way)
(Will you look the other way)

God Bless You

2009-04-29T10:05:00.003-05:00

I am sure many of you have heard me ranting about saying "bless you" after one sneezes, but this really has me bothered so I shall not be silenced yet. I am aware of the multiple origins of the practice, so I am not asking where it came from. I am wondering why we still do it, and yes I am aware that the answer is most likely tradition. This bothers me though and I shall explain why later, for now let us dive into this sneezing problem...

Someone near me sneezes, without thinking really I say, bless you. After that, they then say to me thank you. I then go on to live my unexamined life and eat toast. NOT!!! Why did I just say that? And why did they thank me? It's not like when one expels gas from their body and they say excuse me. I understand that in many societies it is rude to belch or pass gas in a public setting for their expel unpleasant noises and smells. Hence you say excuse me post releasing the gas. It is not the case for sneezing. Sneezing is an action your body performs without you have much say, you can try very very hard to not sneeze, but let's face it... it's gonna happen. And unless you send mucus and saliva onto someone's body or property it really does not harm anyone else. So why do they say bless you after you sneeze?

One of the origins of this practice is that it came from back when the black plague was still relevant. If one were to sneeze, it probably meant they had the plague and they were fucked, so you said bless you to them for their time was limited. Another theory is that people believed that when you sneezed you were expelling demons from your body. Another very unrealistic theory I have heard is that when you sneeze your heart stops beating for a moment so you said bless you to the sneezer for they could have died. Now unless you are stuck in the past or are way way way into evil demon stuff I doubt these thoughts cross your mind when you hear someone sneeze.

We say bless you because we have been programmed to. I know that the only reason why I say it without a second though was that I was brought up that way, and always heard my parents say it. Let's break this down. You get a tickle in your nose, and you then sneeze. Someone near you says bless you. All they have just done is let you know that they have taken note of the fact that you just expelled some foreign object from your nose that was not supposed to be there. Keep in mind that this could also be done with them saying, "You sneezed", or, "Great job expelling objects from your nose!" or by not just saying anything at all, because who really cares if people know if you sneeze or not. After they have made it known that they know you have sneezed, you then thank them for noticing. Yeah I think it sounds pretty stupid too...

Now I know this is all rather dumb to break down and spell out, but I do have a point. Millions of people do this everyday and never question why. They do it simply because that is what is done. This scares me for the fact that I begin to then think what else is done and thought and put into common practice every day that we never question? What have we all been programmed to do? Not that all of these traditions are bad, but it has the potential to. Please question things, please step back and ask why. You will feel a lot better about yourself, and perhaps your can sneeze without obligations anymore.

Now it's MUSIC TIME!!!

I just like this song, no real reason other then the fact that it's Matt and Kim and they kick butt.

Matt and Kim - I'll Take Us Home (<----- Click there to listen, right click and go to save as to download)

Lyrics:

pull out all the stops
we are coming home tonight
a pair of old boxing gloves
in a new fight
where every single scar
well it means something to me
as if life wrote down my history

bottles and road signs
sound like tires on bent wheels
our hands and feet and ordinary thrills
when we unlocked all the doors
just so we could finally breathe
just so we could sew down these torn up sleeves

here we stand with a wolf like shadow
here we stand in the end
hey New York here's our wolf like shadow
hey New York our old friend

this roof could be my bed
blankets feel like the night sky
blankets feel better the heavier they get
red lights can mean go
I'll take us home
I'll take us home
cut down the blinds from my windows
I stood back on the couch
remembered this is my life
with my hands over my head
friends by my side

here is where we'll go
I'll take us home

Poison Oak

2009-04-27T11:36:00.003-05:00

I really have nothing to say, this song speaks for itself. I wish I had the ability to capture emotion like Bright Eyes. Jeez. Listening to this song makes me wanna smoke a cigarette and walk around in the rain. Sometimes it's what you need. I could only find a live version of the song, it's still great but if you can try to find the album version. It'll rip your heart out and then hug it.

Poison Oak Live

Lyrics:

Poison oak, some boyhood bravery
When the telephone was a tin can on a string
And I fell asleep with you still talking to me
You said you weren't afraid to die
In Polaroids you were dressed in women's clothes
Were you made ashamed, why'd you lock them in a drawer?
Well, I don't think that I ever loved you more

Than when you turned away, when you slammed the door
When you stole the car and drove towards Mexico
And you wrote bad checks just to fill your arm
I was young enough, I still believed in war

Well let the poets cry themselves to sleep
And all their tearful words will turn back into steam

But me, I'm a single cell on the serpent's tongue
There's a muddy field where a garden was
And I'm glad you got away but I'm still stuck out here
My clothes are soaking wet from your brother's tears

And I never thought this life was possible
You're the yellow bird that I've been waiting for

The end of paralysis, I was a statuette
Now I'm drunk as hell on a piano bench
And when I press the keys it all gets reversed
The sound of loneliness makes me happier

There is an Inherent Beauty in a Can of Soup

2009-04-20T11:09:00.007-05:00

POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POPTART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART POP ART

Social Whore

2009-04-15T11:17:00.005-05:00

I find it odd that as the number of social networking and community based site I join, this greater sense of accomplishment I begin to feel. The reason for this odd feeling is that pretty much the same group of friends are the only ones that use these sites, which means that I can now talk to the same group of about 10 people face to face, on the phone, through texting, on facebook, myspace, Twitter, Blogger, Last FM, and Youtube. I also have recently created a vimeo and a imeem account. In the near future I can envision a creation of a flicker, a photobucket, and maybe I will even get around to using the livejournal account I created. What is the meaning of all of these sites and why do they make me feel good? I just feel like I am running away from something. Or maybe it's that false sense of belonging which is really just assimilation? I don;t know, I just don't want to get sucked into it and become one of those people who constantly references things that happened on forums I am on which I am catching myself doing already. Any advice?

Anyway here is your song of the... well I don't really post daily or weekly or on any regular schedule. So here is your fucking song. That's what it's called.

Click here to listen, or right click on it and go to save as and take it fo free.

This is Avril 14th by Aphex Twin. I have fallen asleep to this song more than any other song, and if my memory serves me correctly it is the most played song in my library. Listening to this prior or whilst sleeping may cause immense levels of calmness and amazing dreams. Enjoy :D

Lyrics:

Amazing piano noises

3's and Bears

2009-04-09T11:48:00.004-05:00

I am not sure how many of you (though I have an idea) read my "Until the Blue Came" post from last month (which can be found here or you scroll down, I am just here for all you lazy folks) but last night I created a video piece that goes with it. Now there is the poem, a song, and something to look at (I know I am milking the hell out it, sorry...). It's nothing too complex, and is actually very simple, which I think works for it. Anyway the video can be found if you click here. I have had my YouTube account for a while, but I only really post my friends being idiots or my other friend's band. I want to start utilizing it and my camera, so I would like some input. I don't want to turn into one of those youtubers who just create videos where they are talking at the camera all the time. I like those videos if it is the right person talking, but I fear I cannot put out enough wit on a regular basis to compete with them. So instead I will make more substance-filled (in other words pretentious bullshit) that can be arty (lame) and whatnot. Please let me know what you think.

And now comes the time where I shove music down you throats.

Click here and listen.

I was recently asked what is the best song that has come this year (so I thought, I suppose I made that question up myself) and in regards to this year I would have to say it would be the song Two Weeks by Grizzly Bear. I am not quite sure what it is about it, makes me think of old 70's film where everything had a fuzzy yellow filter over it and all the men and women wore the same bell bottoms, button-up shirts, and had the same shoulder length ugly wavy hair. Sounds like a lazy Summer day, laying on a grassy hill waiting for something significant to happen.

Lyrics:

Save up all the days
A routine malaise
Just like yesterday
I told you I would stay

Would you always
Maybe sometimes
Make it easy
Take your time

Think of all the ways
Momentary phase
Just like yesterday
I told you I would stay

Every time you try
Quarter half the mile
Just like yesterday
I told you I would stay

Would you always
Maybe sometimes
Make it easy
Take your time

Bittersweet Poems About Mini-Wheats

2009-04-02T11:03:00.006-05:00

Now before we open this can of worms any further let me state that I love Frosted Mini-Wheats. While my love for this amazing cereal is pure and undying, there underlies some ugliness in our relationship...

Imagine me walking into the grocery store. Do it... Ok, usually when I am there I kinda wander around and when I see something I want I walk up to it and take it, pretty straight forward. This means I rarely go there with any intention of purchasing anything, except for one thing. I home in on the cereal isle and go directly to that sexy orange box of amazing mouthgasms and I take it and I hug it and kiss it and undue it's bra and... well you can see where this is going. Upon return to my house post being at the grocery store, I put all my food stuffs away EXCEPT for the orange box. The thought of waiting till an appropriate time to have a bowl of cereal is just insane, unless an appropriate time to have a bowl of cereal is circa right-the-fuck-now. I rip that box open and pour it's guts into a bowl, Jackson Pollock some milk on it (imagine milk being thrown at it in a abstract pretentious way), and dive in. Yum sex food yums.

This amazingness continues for the rest of the box until the last god damn bowl. You see the thing about Frosted Mini-Wheats is that it is kind of flaky in nature. This means that while you have this great unique texture to interact with in your mouth (or where ever you enjoy putting the cereal in/on/around your body), the cereal is constantly shedding parts of its body. Due to our lovely planet and its gravity, these shredded pieces gradually collect on the bottom of the bag. When you go to pour that last bowl of cereal, all of these shredding fall into your bowl. Now even though my love for the cereal burns with the white hot intensity of a thousand suns, this pisses me off. These shreds, these LIES are not the cereal I want. They are so tiny there is no sense of frosting on them, and they instantly soggify (yes that is a word don't look it up). This is a problem, for one of my biggest attractions to said cereal is it's crunch. So I am left with a bowl of gold turned to shit.

There is one solution to this problem and that is to stick your hand in the bag and pull out all the intact mini-wheats and place them in your bowl. This presents a problem though, for as human nature dictates: One's love of cereal must never compromise one's sense of laziness. So I eat the bowl of shit and then I hate it. Life is so hard sometimes... sigh

In other more music and less cereal related news, everyone here NEEDS to listen to Ugly Casanova (being Isaac Brock's (the lead singer of Modest Mouse) side project). Imagine a heavily sedated Modest Mouse where Brock actually sings and doesn't do his Isaac Brock thing. While I love his Issac Brock thing, Ugly Casanova is a really nice relaxing way to get that kick ass feeling of listening to Modest Mouse.

Here is a link to download the whole album:

Ugly Casanova - Sharpen Your Teeth

Here are some links to some of my favorites off of the album:

Hotcha Girls - Ugly Casanova
Barnacles - Ugly Casanova

Lyrics:

Hotcha Girls

smells like autumn, smells like leaves
you don't know that you'll rust and not belong so much
and then get left alone
suck it up, take a ride and take a walk
and don't you know that old folks' homes smell so much like my own.
the hotcha girls at the palisades
dime store keets, pretty birds, pretty mouths.
mama's little truck stop rose, her dancy feet her happy laugh.
we were dropping dimes on the ponies in the cul-de-sac,
casting shadows throwing sparks.
we left our teeth marks on the barrel of the gun,
the clipper ship across your chest.
turns out the pony only had one trick, a wink for the truck stop boys.
they learned it all from the polaroids.
smells like autumn smells like leaves,
you don't know that you'll rust and not belong so much
and then get left alone.
suck it up, take a ride and take a walk
and don't you know that old folks' homes smell so much like my own.
time blends light, paint's all peeling, wait outside, take four rights.
the hotcha girls in the palisades
dime store keets, pretty birds, pretty mouths.
glass eyes and the wooden teeth,
the engine's rusting in deep deep sleep, it waits.
the mail came from miles away, the postal man is always late,
and we wait and we wait.
tight lipped with a big ol mouth,
the government workers all headed south while it rained.
glassy eyes and wooden teeth, the engine rusted in deep deep sleep
it waits, and it waits, to awake.

Barnacles

i don't really need to see
so i don't need to see so i'll paint
i don't know, i'll paint it black
i don't need to see
i don't see how you see out of your window
i don't need to see, i'll paint mine black
i don't need to see
i don't see how you see out of your window
i don't need to see i'll paint mine black

i don't know me and you don't know you
so we fit so good together
'cause i knew you like i knew myself
we clung on like barnacles on a boat
even though the ship sinks you know you can't let go
i was talking like two hands knocking
yelling 'let me in, let me in, please come out.'

black glass, dirt-based soap,
tell yourself what you know.
my friends, oh my friends,
bury your head i'll help you bury your hands.
hard hit, hard to miss, problems are what a problem is.

my light it came up quick, call it your asterisk,
buried in a boys and boys first book of the stars
saw it a satellite
constant unblinking eyes
buried in the bottom in the bottom of a brackish lake

Harrowing Tales of Snow, Philosophy, and Dumb Laptop Batteries

2009-03-31T11:12:00.005-05:00

Listen:

Idioteque - Radiohead

Lyrics:

Who's in a bunker?
Who's in a bunker?
Women and children first
And the children first
And the children
I'll laugh until my head comes off
I'll swallow till I burst
Until I burst
Until I

Who's in a bunker?
Who's in a bunker?
I have seen too much
You haven't seen enough
You haven't seen it
I'll laugh until my head comes off
Women and children first
And children first
And children

Here I'm allowed
Everything all of the time
Here I'm allowed
Everything all of the time

Ice age coming
Ice age coming
Let me hear both sides
Let me hear both sides
Let me hear both
Ice age coming
Ice age coming
Throw them in the fire
Throw them in the fire
Throw them in the

We're not scare mongering
This is really happening
Happening
We're not scare mongering
This is really happening
Happening
Mobiles quirking
Mobiles chirping
Take the money and run
Take the money and run
Take the money

Here I'm allowed
Everything all of the time
Here I'm allowed
Everything all of the time

Here I'm allowed
Everything all of the time
Here I'm allowed
Everything all of the time

deaf and lost are the children

My lovely laptop battery can now only go to 50% battery life before my computer shuts off. Blarg, blarg I say. Hence we listen to Idioteque for my laptop battery is an IDIOT and they talk about ice ages blah blah it's snowing. If only I was as amazing as Yorke in my blatherings to the world about I feel you could be listening to an amazing song rather then reading this dumb. I really don't want to dish out the money to get a new battery, but having to have my laptop plugged into the walls at all times is defeating the purpose of having it.

In other news I think I am going to be dropping my double major in Philosophy. Don't get me wrong, I love the subject, but what am I going to do with the degree? I see it like this: people go to school to become philosophers to then go into a job teaching philosophy to people wanting to become philosophers who will then go into a job teaching philosophy to people wanting to become philosophers who will... you get the picture. Philosophy is like a mosquito, they live to reproduce and then die. I suppose you could say the same about humans, but humans don't (I know they sometimes do) die right after giving birth. And it's annoying like mosquitoes are, long drawn out complicated debates that will never amount to anything nor answer anything. A huge positive feedback loop that grows and grows into nothing. And I just really like photography.

I will leave you all with another cold snowing song, enjoy:

Lua - Bright Eyes

Lyrics:

I know that it is freezing, but I think we have to walk
I keep waving at the taxis, they keep turning their lights off
But Julie knows a party at some actor's West side loft
Supplies are endless in the evening by the morning they'll be gone

When everything is lonely I can be my own best friend
I'll get a coffee and the paper, have my own conversations
with the sidewalk and the pigeons and my window reflection
The mask I polish in the evening by the morning looks like shit

And I know you have a heavy heart, I can feel it when we kiss
So many men stronger than me have thrown their backs out trying to lift it
But me I'm not a gamble, you can count on me to split
The love I sell you in the evening by the morning won't exist

You're looking skinny like a model with your eyes all painted black
Just keep going to the bathroom, always say you'll be right back
Well, it takes one to know one, kid, I think you've got it bad
But what's so easy in the evening by the morning's such a drag

I got a flask inside my pocket, we can share it on the train
And if you promise to stay conscious I will try and do the same
We might die from medication, but we sure killed all the pain
But what was normal in the evening by the morning seems insane

And I'm not sure what the trouble was that started all of this
The reasons all have run away, but the feeling never did
It's not something I would recommend, but it is one way to live
Cause what is simple in the moonlight by the morning never is

It was so simple in the moonlight now it's so complicated
It was so simple in the moonlight, so simple in the moonlight
So simple in the moonlight...

Need Your Help+The Killers Cover

2009-03-30T20:07:00.003-05:00

Ok well since most of my blogs are depressing and no one seems to like the music blogs I post, I am gonna use this blog to my advantage. I am trying to decide what to name my next Wickson! album. I have a couple ideas so I wanna know what you think. Here they are:

1. 0-(^_^)-0
2. 0-(^_^)-0: A Tale of Harps and Tales
3. In the End We Are All Skeptics and Alone... 0-(^_^)-0 HUG!!!
4. A Tale of Harps and Tales
5. (Insert your own suggestion)

Just respond with what you think, or tell me, or don't.

Thank you for helping, no even though no one seems to listen I am stuck on spreading good music to all who want to hear so check this out:

Click Me----> 0-(^_^)-0

That is a cover of The Killers song When You Were Young by a band called The Noisettes. They change the words a bit, but I think it's pretty tight. Nice and raw. Let me know what you think. By the way, Geoffrey Rush is on the new album. Mine, not the Noisettes.

99 Red Balloons vs. 1 Black Balloon

2009-03-30T03:10:00.003-05:00

Listen to this:

black balloon songs
free Music downloads | Free Mp3 downloads!

Lyrics:

Baby's black balloon makes her fly
I almost fell into that hole in your life
And you're not thinking about tomorrow
'Cause you were the same as me
But on your knees

A thousand other boys could never reach you
How could I have been the one
I saw the world spin beneath you
And scatter like ice from the spoon
That was your womb

Comin' down the world turned over
And angels fall without you there
And I go on as you get colder
Or are you someone's prayer

You know the lies they always told you
And the love you never knew
What's the things they never showed you
That swallowed the light from the sun
Inside your room

Comin' down the world turned over
And angels fall without you there
And I go on as you get colder
Or are you someone's prayer

And there's no time left for losin'
When you stand they fall

Comin' down the world turned over
And angels fall without you there
And I go on as you get colder

All because I'm
Comin' down the years turn over
And angels fall without you there
And I'll go and lead you home and
All because I'm
All because I'm
And I'll become
What you became to me

Don't you just wish you could go back the 90's to be depressed? Seems like depression, sadness, and lonelyness was so real back then. Not to say I am either of those three, though I'm sure deep down I am all three. Oh well though, for I have to Goo Goo Dolls to feel like shit with. Funny how the imagery of one black balloon some how can rival that of 99 red ones. Both have such an amazing ability to make your imagination's jaw drop in awe. Vast numbers and lack of numbers both very bold, red and balck very epic. What color is your balloon? How many are there?

Us

2009-03-26T11:59:00.003-05:00

CLICK HERE AND LISTEN ----------> 0-(^_^)-0

Us - Regina Spektor

They made a statue of us
And it put it on a mountaintop
Now tourists come and stare at us
Blow bubbles with their gum
Take photographs have fun, have fun

They'll name a city after us
And later say it's all our fault
Then they'll give us a talking to
Then they'll give us a talking to
Because they've got years of experience

We're living in a den of thieves
Rummaging for answers in the pages
We're living in a den of thieves
And it's contagious
And it's contagious
And it's contagious
And it's contagious

We wear our scarves just like a noose
But not 'cause we want eternal sleep
And though our parts are slightly used
New ones are slave labor you can keep

We're living in a den of thieves
Rummaging for answers in the pages
We're living in a den of thieves
And it's contagious
And it's contagious
And it's contagious
And it's contagious

They made a statue of us
They made a statue of us
The tourists come and stare at us
The sculptor's mama sends regards
They made a statue of us
They made a statue of us
Our noses have begun to rust
We're living in a den of thieves
Rummaging for answers in the pages
Were living in a den of thieves

And it's contagious
And it's contagious
And it's contagious
And it's contagious
And it's contagious
And it's contagious
And it's contagious
And it's contagious

Reginia has this way of making music where you get this overwhelming feeling of something. But that's all it is, something. You have no idea what the hell she is talking about, but you just know it's something big or real. I wanna catch it.

Until the Blue Came

2009-03-25T11:38:00.010-05:00

Please listen to the song below while you read this. It will help I think.

A long time ago, long before I could remember I lived in a world very similar to ours. The trees were the same, the Starbucks were the same, and the canned pineapple was the same. All was the same except for the people. In this world people are born into different evolution groups and you flow and exist with this group until someone steals your carbon and your heart quits. This evolution is not like the ones we are taught in biology class with monkeys and Darwinism. The evolution is that of our minds. We would evolve and our mental state would simply become more advanced. Along with this standard of evolution, the other huge difference was that we could only speak to those who were in the same stage of evolution as us. You were always in the same stage as the group you were born into so you could always talk to them, but you could also talk to members of other groups as long as they were in the same stage as you.

My group had just evolved which granted us access to a higher form of education so we got to go to a new school. I had been there for a couple months so I was just getting used to it. Classes were going ok, but I hadn't really met anyone new. The members of my group, whom I loved dearly, were boring me. I needed something new. It was around this time that she arrived. I'll spare you what I thought of her. Just think back to every cheesey, romantic, and cliche way to describe the love of your life you have ever heard. That was how she made me feel. She grew to feel the same about me with little effort on my part. We were simply meant to be I thought. We didn't love each other, we belonged to each other.

After we had met we soon dove into our glorious relationship. You know that part of the relationship where everything is simply amazing? You know right around the beginning? Well I would like you to imagine that feeling never going away. The freshness never staled, the spark never went out, and old seemed new. For years we spent every possible moment together, running away from out future and giving the cold shoulder to the past. Now was ecstasy. Now was ethereal. Now was pure. Little did I know that now would soon be assassinated by Murphy.

One day I was sitting in a study room at school and she walked up to me. I saw her eyes and heart fell out of my stomach and splattered on the floor. Smashed tissues and blood covered my last moments as a person. I began the rapid fire of concerned questions, frantically demanding to know what could have possibly brought sucked the existence out of her eyes. She set her hand on my forehead and allowed one tear to fall screaming to it's death upon the floor from her dead eye. The tear smashed to pieces and its mutilated tissues joined those of my heart on the surface of the planet. She turned around and began to walk. As I watched in horror she faded into air, becoming nothing more then a faint outline of true compromise. Her group had evolved, I would never be able to see or speak to her again.

She was out there in the world, everyday. Every god damn day, and I couldn't even sadly watch her be. Soon after this existence ceased to matter. Everything blurred and lines crossed. Thousands upon thousands of years later I would wake up crying at night in a new body, recalling my last thoughts. Without thinking I scribbled them down on a piece of paper and then fell back asleep. The world would know of my thoughts, but would she. If you are out there I need you to know this:

The two met when the atmosphere made the park’s sky a livid blue

“Where had she been?” he often wondered

She could never provoke enough diction to relay the message

He had never focused on how alone he had been until the blue came

She could taste it in the aura they shared; time had lost too much blood

Evolution broke their bonds

Misfortune ignited their ever growing infatuation

If he could just tear his face off, the hormones in his skull would splash to the floor

and not into his Superior Vena Cava

She burned his last thought away with a drag, lung cancer over thought

The park’s sky was an anonymous green from then on, she thought green was efficient

The park’s sky was an anonymous green from then on, his last thought was red

All was fine until the blue came. Those fucking dead eyes...

GERARDAHHHHH

2009-03-25T03:06:00.005-05:00

So I get an email from Craig of Cloud Cult last week and I nearly died. And now I am pretty sure I have. Gerard Way of My Chemical Romance kinda sorta just totally responded to me on Twitter. Now I know this is not a huge thing, but if you know me then it really is a big thing. Like one of the biggest things ever. Really. AHHHHHHHH!!!!! GAH... It took a lot for me to not just be typing jibberish of joyness right now. All I need to do now is talk to Trent and I can probably die happier than anyone ever has ever. Or become immoral.

Be Happy

2009-03-24T11:49:00.003-05:00

Even if the lyrics are not this song puts me in a good mood. I think today is a good day for a good mood. So! Listen to this:

CLICK HERE -------------> 0-(^_^)-0

Lyrics:

Over and Over Again (Lost and Found) - Clap Your Hands Say Yeah

I heard it from a friend
The Revolution never happened
Sigh
A little die
No more a child
Goodbye

Now where's the woolen sweater
You mentioned in the letter?
Imply
The other guy
is getting lies, am I?

A clean shave in the morning
And a full beard with no warning
Time has gotten by on alibis and wine

Success is so forbidding
But it makes me think I'm winning
Quiet
Dim the lights
Adopt another lifestyle

come-a come-a come on
Over and over again

You look like David Bowie
But you've nothing new to show me
Start another fire
And watch it slowly die

Condemned to a Cycle

2009-03-21T13:01:00.003-05:00

Consciousness flows in my ears and trickles down my spine, the sheep are around me

Thought is of no concern for me; I relax in my own hypocrisy

A mother calls out for a missing child; my eyelids shut the waves out for a while

More fading as days pass, their baggage forever rotating around the conveyer belts

Most forgotten

Life was too thin, they had second thoughts, I had my first

Faces turn to masks that seem too real, have I uttered in days?

My clock doesn’t bother any more; I see it in my breath…3…2…1

The house shrinks as I am pulled up; all is color, my eyes spill grey all over

Time and space gut each other on my way up, scraps of meat hit my face

I wake up in a body drilled with holes, where am I?

Shangri-La was staring me in the face, but it was premature so they walked away

Purgatory for a week, no… a second? I felt awkward asking

I am me again; my holes are filled with other’s pieces, a little too baroque for my tastes

The floor gives

Click…the hammer releases

I am a vessel

Splash

I deteriorate when I connect with the other bodies, or did they?

I am no longer me, I am we

I am wet

Craig Minowa

2009-03-13T19:33:00.006-05:00

Craig Minowa emailed me and I pretty much pissed my pants while my heart exploded in my chest all while I stopped breathing. I had probably the worst week of my life to date, mostly after last night. I gotta say I am feeling fine now, funny how little things can completely change the color of the world. What is the color of your world?

Mine is this color ------------> CLICK HERE

Sing I Love You All

2009-03-12T22:52:00.006-05:00

Watch this:

http://www.roadrunnerrecords.com/shared/downloads/thedresdendolls/dresdendolls_sing_700.mov

Lyrics:

There is this thing that's like touching except you don't touch
Back in the day it just went without saying at all
All the world's history gradually dying of shock
There is this thing it's like talking except you don't talk
You sing
You sing

Sing for the bartender sing for the janitor sing
Sing for the cameras sing for the animals sing
Sing for the children shooting the children sing
Sing for the teachers who told you that you couldn't sing
Just sing

There is thing thing keeping everyone's lungs and lips locked
It is called fear and it's seeing a great renaissance
After the show you can not sing wherever you want
But for now let's just pretend we're all gonna get bombed
So sing

Sing cause its obvious sing for the astronauts sing
Sing for the president sing for the terrorists sing
Sing for the soccer team sing for the janjuweed sing
Sing for the kid with the phone who refuses to sing
Just sing

Life is no cabaret
We don't care what you say
We're inviting you anyway
You motherfuckers you'll sing someday...
You motherfuckers you'll sing someday...
You motherfuckers you'll sing someday...

Then listen to this:

http://www.theworldforgot.com/twf/mp3/boty08/Cloud%20Cult%20-%20Love%20You%20All.mp3

We are all people and we all deserve a chance. I'll sing for you if no one has yet. I love you all, never quit.

BANJO

2009-03-12T00:29:00.002-05:00

I want to learn to play the god damn Banjo.

The Existence of Life is a Highly Overrated Phenomenon

2009-03-11T18:27:00.005-05:00

On March 10, 2009 Michael McLendon of Kinston Alabama burnt his mother's house down after shooting her and her dogs. He then drove on to Samson Alabama where he shot and killed his grandmother, grandfather, aunt, uncle, and a child. McLendon then proceeded to drive around and shoot at people simple sitting on the front porches and some people at a gas station killing at least four more. After the police went after him he shot and killed himself.

The next day, a 17 year old in Germany returned to the highschool he graduated from less then a year ago. There he proceeded to shoot and kill 8 female student, 3 female teachers, and 1 male student. He then ran outside, shot and killed a man waking down the road, forced his way into another man's vehicle and told the man to drive. As the police began to chase him he ended up at an auto dealership and ran inside where he then shot and killed a sales man and a customer. Shortly after he went back outside and had a shootout with the police force shooting and injuring two officers. Eventually the shot and killed himself making the body count 16.

I cannot conjur the words to describe how this makes me feel. I wonder if that girl will be smiling this Thursday?

Elapse

2009-03-10T23:21:00.005-05:00

Oh life, without you I would be bored and dead.

I have been thinking about time a lot recently. I am becoming increasingly more disturbed by how fragmented it is and how little of it we ever see. We only ever catch a second of it at a time, and to me a second is not enough to understand something. Yes we have video and camera equipment to document and record seconds in the past, but there is nothing there. A photograph of myself is a documentation of something that is not there not will ever be anywhere again. As a second is birthed a second dies. All that is falls in the realm of a second. I have a hard time grasping this. All of existence is contained on a single second at any given time. Insane.

So far throughout history, though history might be sham for it too exists in something that no longer exists (CONTRADICTION AHHHHHHHHHHH!), time has been flawless, for we have always experienced the next second following the one we currently were residing in, but what if time is not perfect? All of what we know would be doomed, for all that was, is, and will be (oxford comma alert) has, does, and will (x2!) exist in a single second. If a second ever failed to come there it goes. Everything lost and gone. As I had just typed the word "gone" that second is now gone and I will never live it again. That scares me. This sense of never going back, never seeing anything of that sort again makes this all seem so pointless. Who/what ever created this must known a big something we don't know, or is a complete moron

One second dies another is born, and we wait for our own time to be replaced with a new version. I am not really sure where I was going with this and I fear I never will, just needed to get it out. Thank you for sacraficing your seconds for me. I hope they did not die in vain.

Year Zero

2009-03-10T10:25:00.009-05:00

It's Ok

2009-03-10T01:26:00.003-05:00

Listen to this:

http://mineorecords.com/mp3/lotalk-its.mp3

It's Okay,
I don't even cry
all I think about is a memory
in that dream when you kissed my arm
as I look away, don't hear
what I say

That maybe when I die
I get to be a car
driving in the night
lighting up the dark.
something in your voice
sparks a little hope
I'll wait up for that noise
your voice becomes my home

Long way round, don't care what I find
A little thunder's good, I thought maybe you would
but it's okay, we all feel left out
sometimes growing up, it can get you down.

I give you some thing that no one's gonna to give you
my sleepin' skin and my heart deep down in you
I'll never tell you, but you're my little scar
Goodbyes are hard and they're hard and they're hard

Maybe when I die
I get to be a car
driving in the night
Lighting up the dark
Something in your voice,
sparks a little hope
Ill wait up for that noise
your voice become my home

-Land of Talk-

I can't get over that thought of becoming a car when I die. That is one of the most beautiful things I have ever heard in my life. Everyone want's to be remembered after death, or to go to heaven, or to go to hell, or for nothing to happen. I feel these desires are too much for the human mind to lust over. Even reincarnation is too much for me to handle, but this idea of a car simply lighting up the night... holy shit. I wish that someday I can have such simple needs, wants, and wishes. I think we would all be happier if that was the case. Life would be quieter. Tomorrow would come and go, and conversations would be warm. Life is glass and dreams are clay. What are you molding?

Why so serious?

2009-03-09T14:36:00.006-05:00

Thursdays are the worst days of my week usually. They start with a 9:30 (weird time) class that is supposed to teach me how to look at art... I don't think anything else needs to be said about that. That class concludes around 10:30 and then I am left with nothing to do until 2 pm. I am then left with the decision to walk home or stay at school, both involving little productivity for in either case I will end up sitting on facebook, playing around in photoshop, or youtubing.

I then have to go to Biology in society. I love Biology, but I am an art student. Obviously I am too busy wasting my time in college and have become and idiot from the art world and I am no where near smart enough to not drown in academic knowledge and scientific discovery that I would consume whilst taking General Biology. so I get Bio in Society. Out first test was on the scientific method. I got to learn what a hypothesis was and how to test one. :D (Note sarcasm please)

After I am told how to look at a painting (which you do with your eyes if you were unaware), sitting on some whorish social networking site, and discovering that water can come in not one... not two... BUT THREE DIFFERENT FORMS (I know I pissed my pants when I found out too) I get to go to the ever so lovely Biology in Society Lab. This is where we get to make DNA strands out of pipe cleaners, and used Mr. Potato Head dolls to show how different people can have different genetic traits. This then concludes anywhere from 4:30-5:30 pm.

So now I am pissed and grumpy and more cynical then ever (which is possible somehow) and I am walking home. And this is the worst part of my day. Every Thursday I pass this girl on the side walk. She is looking up and smiling. Just walking and smiling. Not twitching, not moving her lips at all. Just smiling. I can't fathom that. Is such happiness even possible? Smiles are moments in this world. A sighting of beauty, a joke, a warm memory. This smiling moments come and go in anywhere from 2-30 seconds I would say. But this girl, what did she find? I become filled with this rash mixture of hatred and depression at the sight of her. I want to grab and shake her and demand to know what is so good. What is it?

I soon come to the realization that I am a cynical jerk and keep walking. It still haunts me sitting here and thinking about it. Every week, every time. Smiling. I am glad I am not her.

the fish

2009-03-09T11:17:00.005-05:00

the thing you gotta realize is that when you squint your eyes all college students are the same
luck can hit 3 times right?
parts wonder
it feels like the decomposition of the last
but it’s not even a first
they talk to you
licking your twists
lathering them with their possibilities
your possibilities
mine?
hers.
Oh yes it always has to come back
this fucking perpetual boomerang
exceeding exponentially where it mists
is the 15 significant?
did her twists slow respiration 19 times?
i’m going to build a pink home and drink lemon butterscotch dead with love
track 08
track 11
cute
these are your words under it all
peel the skin back
i stop squinting
track 3 makes me cry
hurrah! hurrah!