RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition. He does have an amazing PATREON, but also *normal* ARTIST WEBSITE too.

Thursday, January 21

4B4ND0N3D H0M3 PL4C3 C4RC4SS...

 

abandoned home place carcass 
rotting in the scrub pines, caked 
with memories of lives gone 

Wednesday, January 20

SONG OF THE DAY: Th3 R


My biggest problem with politics is all politicians probably have somebody cooking for them, or at the very least it's like a PBS cooking show where somebody is just standing to stage right to clean up after them or prep things, and they don't have to cook bowtie noodles and then not want to use the colander because fuck man, I'm so tired of washing all these goddamn dishes all the time, so you just pour the pot through the slotted spoon at an angle, using the spoon to hold the noodles in the pot, trying to get as much boiling water out as possible, running cold water down the drain too so the hot water doesn't explode your cheap ass pipes, and then like three noodles fall over the edge of the spoon because you're fighting gravity the whole time, and you go GODDAMMIT but as quiet as possible so the kids, who are upstairs waiting for some bowtie noodles, don't think you're mad about some dumb shit. Then you stir in some butter and pretend all the water still in there is just butter too, and there's dinner, with maybe some shredded parmesan, the $2 a bag store brand kind, not no fancy parmesan that comes in shapes or chunks, you want that raw shit that's got pine tree in it that probably got transported on an open hopper freight train before they processed it down to whatever nine syllable ingredient it is as an additive to prevent the cheese caking, because everybody knows if you trying to not make a cheesecake, just put some wood chips in it. So all of that is to say fuck politicians, with their colander-using, real-parmesan-eating, not-only-can-afford-a-plumber-but-can-afford-to-have-somebody-else-on-payroll-who-actually-calls-the-plumber-so-they-don't-ever-actually-even-talk-to-a-plumber-that's-how-much-they-can-afford-one asses.

N0N3 0F VS 4R3 V1CT1MS S0...

none of us are victims, so 
much as trapped in this system 
which never gave half a fuck 

Tuesday, January 19

4S 4 K1D, 1 G0T BR41NW4SH3D...

as a kid, I got brainwashed 
to believe if I worked hard, 
I'd find financial freedom 

Monday, January 18

Sunday, January 17

SONG OF THE DAY: Lestkal

Sadly there is no freebird synth culture to speak of, at least not yet. You’d think with our abundance of excess junk and born again thrift stores, more back roads weirdos would have taken the electronic Hasil Adkins path in life, but that does not to appear to be the case so far as I can tell. Imagine how great opioid fog greater Appalachian synth wails would be, synthgrass through the foxfire fog, demented gospel synthelations about hellfire upon earth, or just good ol’ base instinct 200 proof synthshine, autotune howling the full moon rising over the mountains like fire. There’s enough junk Honda Civics laying around these nether regions of the American wasteland that somebody’s had to think of how to turn it into a giant Sun Ra-esque Casio creation of madness. Where’s our great American degenerate ingenuity? Is everybody just scrolling memes? What the fuck is going on here?

0BV10VSLY 4B4ND0N3D...

 

obviously abandoned 
physical spaces not as 
prevalent as mental ones 

Saturday, January 16