RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition who publishes zines & physical books & electronic books & music & photography & digital art & just generally whatever feels necessary to survive this deluded earth thru Rojonekku Word Fighting Arts survival systems (Version 69, establish 14 Feb 1973). Comments encouraged.

Sunday, October 31

Saturday, October 30

Friday, October 29

J.J. Krupert Top 13 Countdown – September '10 #12: “In The Pits” by Blue Globe Beats


It has been an interesting week of controlled destruction in my life. I started the week out on the side of a mountain in southwest Virginia, shooting up a bunch of shit with assorted firearms, including shooting an AR-15 for only the second time in my life. I was old enough to appreciate it this time. When you are a young buck just shooting a machine gun into an abandoned schoolbus in the middle of nowhere West Virginia, it’s hard to appreciate it. But once you have kids and mortgages and a bunch of stupid gay shit you have to do responsibly all the goddamned stupid time, you get a greater appreciation for shooting a gun whose bullets go through an inch of solid steel. And I was still a pretty damn good shit, might I say. Also, blowing up 2-liter bottles with a .44 Magnum can never not be fun, unless say you miss on your first five shots of the six.
And then my week wound down with a trip to a research lab where they crash cadavers and I got a tour of the autopsy room and then this other big room where they are going to build a moving roadway where they will drop brand new cars onto the roadway sideways with cadavers or dummies strapped in the car to study rollovers. Apparently, to maintain scientific integrity, you have to keep all the windows in and everything, so it’s going to be a giant fucking mess. I am already on the list to scope that nonsense out.
So that has been my life this week, which is nice. I need shit like that to feed me. The majority of 2010 has been a goddamned drain on my soul. I have gotten stuck in ruts of routines that leave my soul pouting inside my stomach half of every day sometimes. It doesn’t help election day is coming up, which always reminds you how fucking stupid everything is. By the way, do not tell me the importance of voting. I did not grow up like you where that shit matters, where I believe in the adult Santa Claus of the sanctity of casting your vote. Fuck your vote.
Also there is an interesting side of irony to all this since the gun shooters of the beginning of my week don’t trust the government and the car crashing cadaver smashers of the latter half of my week are funded by the government. What a ridiculous mess this place we call America is. Why don’t we all get drunk instead?
STEAL “In The Pits”
NEXT UP:
The man affectionately known as Tricephus!

J.J. Krupert Top 13 Countdown – September '10 #13: “Six Feet Deep (screwed & chopped)” by The Geto Boys

With Halloween being this Sunday, it has been physically impossible for me to not constantly walk around and go in my brain, “This year, Halloween fell on a weekend… me and my daughters was trick or treating… filling up our plastic bags… till corn syrup got inside our ass… this corn syrup be give us diabete (you have to drop the “s” for it to rhyme right)… now that’s the type of shit I be seeing in my sleep…” and so on and so forth, turning the Geto Boys scary ass song into a bullshit freestyle about how we are all killing ourselves slowly with poor nutrition. And then usually I think how gay it is to do that so I freestyle about killing everybody on earth for about ten minutes, until I get worried that my dad and uncle who are both dead in tragically southern ways are actually looking down from heaven or hell or whatever and see me doing all this, and that makes me feel embarrassed, so I stop. At that point, I hit skip on the gaypod until a David Allan Coe song comes on and I sing it really loud, figuring that’ll calm them down if they are watching, and by the end they’ll probably be gone, so at that point, I can listen to whatever.
This track is taken from the Best of Rap-a-Lot Screwed and Chopped by OG Ron C or Greatest Hits of Rap-a-Lot or something, but it is the best fucking shit ever. If you do not know how great Rap-a-Lot Records is, well, I feel sorry for you bucko. They once had a midget white rapper named Bar Nunn, plus a blind DJ in one group. I can honestly say the only regret I have for Rap-a-Lot Records is that they never signed The Dayton Family to a deal. I know they kept it Texas, but damn, that would’ve been a good fit, like a mother’s teat in a baby’s mouth.
STEAL “Six Feet Deep”
NEXT UP:
Yet another Boogie Brown instrumental because that’s all I listen to some nights!

J.J. Krupert Top 13 Countdown – September '10 Intro

The beginning of the September countdown of the J.J. Krupert gaypod listings is a watermark event in the life of my gaypod adventures, as through the trickle-down technocomics of my family, we inherited a new family computer to replace the one with a fan constantly leaning against the back half of it to keep it cooled it down and not crashing from heat stress. Plus I got a laptop related to my top secret real life work, thus the old gaytunes libraries were straight dumped, I dug out the milk crate full of CDs, moved over what I could, and stoled anything else deemed important from inside the interwebs again. But this October list is the last one done from the old gaytunes library, meaning some great songs that had been plugging along and almost getting onto the J.J. Krupert list lost out when everything was reset back to 0. People like Roach Gigz, and plus I can’t find the collection of Casual youtube freestyles that I used to rock all the time again inside the interwebz. The fucking internet… this thing is really one of the most overrated devices around. It pretends to have everything and know everything but really it’s just a bunch of dumb shit to help you waste your life.
Anyways, in my real life, the month of September meant the start of a new season of youth soccer. It meant I briefly quit drinking. It meant football took up far too much of my Sundays. It meant I no longer had to put off cutting the grass because the grass won’t growing no more. It meant one last day trip to the beach to feel the cleansing powers of salted water. It meant a ton of other things I could list out and think up, but you know how that works. But September is a great transitionary month, from summer idle hands or hard-working hands or just outside constantly to fall where yeah it’s nice outside but it’s also getting cold at night and you cuddle under an extra blanket and think about making butternut squash soup with hunks of pork floating around in it.
So let us begin the September J.J. Krupert Gaypod countdown of most played songs on my stupid 2gb silver shuffle.
FIRST UP: The scariest rap group ever!

S14: Worst College Football Teams

These are the worst teams in college football, as of this week, and I have nothing good to say about any of them. But I will make a half-hearted effort nonetheless, because this is what I do with my life.

#1: LIVINGSTONE BLUE BEARS (0-9, 44.444 avg. margin of defeat, #2 last week) – Lost at Fayetteville State, 59 to 6. You can get legal whores in trailers outside of Fayetteville. That’s the military influence on rural North Carolina. Seriously. It’s pretty goddamned cool. And even if it’s illegal, fuck it, it goes on. Things are only for-real illegal if you can’t get away with it.

#2: EDWARD WATERS TIGERS (0-6, 43.500 avg. margin of defeat, #1 last week) – They were at North Greenville and they lost 42 to 0. The bright side is 42 points is the least amount of points they’ve given up all year long. You go, historically black Edward Waters. I am going historically black for Halloween, with blackface and lambchop sideburns and an old suit with a solid gold chain watch that I’ll carry around and when I get near people, I’ll look at, rub my Frederick Douglass wig backwards and yell out, “Hot damn! It’s time fors another beer!”

#3: CULVER-STOCKTON WILDCATS (0-8, 39.875 avg. margin of defeat, #4 last week) – They lost to Benedictine of Kansas last weekend, and I am really bummed I have not finished this yet because I’d like to go masturbate. Culver-Stockton was named after Marthellus Culver and Richard “Dick” Stockton the 1st, who together were International Tandem Grappling champions from Nebraska for 11 years straight in the 1930s. They formed the college to teach cornfed bumpkins how wearing singlets and clutching at other dudes would help you grow up to be a solid man.

#4: VALPARAISO CRUSADERS (0-8, 37.750 avg. margin of defeat, #6 last week) – Only lost to San Diego, 30 to 10, last weekend, but still moved up two spots on the Shit List. A trip to San Diego was probably pretty nice for some religious school types from Indiana, which I think is where Valpo is from. Might be elsewhere. The whole midwest is like a rampant wasteland of flatness to me. I do not understand why everyone there just doesn’t dedicate themselves to demolition derbies on Friday nights and wrestling for Ian Rotten on Saturday nights.

#5: LOCK HAVEN BALD EAGLES (0-8, 37.500 avg. margin of defeat, #8 last week) – A 56 to 14 loss at Slippery Rock charged them back up the Shit List two spots. For as long as I’ve been doing these stupid things over like three years, Lock Haven has been terrible. Also, I have been sweating an awful lot lately. I am not sure why that is, but I think it’s my body finally working out some of the corporate copperhead poisons from not drinking beer so much.

#6: TEXAS COLLEGE STEERS (0-7, 37.000 avg. margin of defeat, #3 last week) – Oh man, after only losing by 9 at Oklahoma Panhandle State two weekends ago, Texas College hosted Southern Nazarene last week, and barely lost, 52 to 49. Understand in their previous six games, they had scored 50 points total, so they basically doubled how good they’ve been this year. Mad mad props to you Texas College Steers. I’m pulling for you. Raven Mack is your boy.

#7: PACIFIC BOXERS (0-6, 36.500 avg. margin of defeat, #5 last week) – They lost, 24 to 12, to Whitworth last weekend, but moved themselves down a couple notches. Most importantly is this sentence from their website though: “The clip of the amazing touchdown from Trevor Okamoto to Jordan Fukumoto is selected by D3Football.com as their Play of the Week for week eight of the NCAA Division III season.” I was gonna look it up inside the youtubes, but again, I really want to masturbate.

#8: DORDT DEFENDERS (0-8, 35.625 avg. margin of defeat, #9 last week) – Dordt lost at Midland Lutheran, 42 to 0, last weekend. Defender was cool but if I was gonna get all Ricky Schroeder on Silver Spoons and have a real live video game machine in my house, I’d get Moon Patrol. Or Spyhunter. Or fuck it, old school NBA Jams. I always played Detlef Schrempf and Sean Whatshisname that had 19 kids by 23 women.

#9: ANNA MARIA CATS (0-8, 35.125 avg. margin of defeat, unranked last week) – Holy fuck, they had gotten off this list for a couple of weeks. But last week in hosting Norwich, they dropped a tough one, 81 to 7. They also got spotlighted in one of those stupid and pretentious back page Sports Illustrated articles like two weeks back, so maybe it was the SI curse leaking into the back cover from the front. Still though, giving up 81 points is terrible, regardless of the situation or black magic involved.

#10: OLIVET FIGHTING COMETS (0-7, 34.429 avg. margin of defeat, #7 last week) – They lost against Albion, 42 to 24. Do you know why 2x4s are called that and not 4x2s? I don’t either. I was gonna make something up but then the stupid new kitten my children brought back from a yard sale was climbing into the boxes of apples on the living room floor that we still need to can before Halloween, so I had to go get my hand wet to flick water on the kitten.

#11: JUNIATA EAGLES (0-7, 34.286 avg. margin of defeat, #12 last week) – They lost vs. Moravian, 42 to 0, last weekend. Moravian vs. Juniata sounds more like some second-tier Scottish soccer rivalry to me. I read that Among the Thugs book and it made me really sad we are so commercialized here in America when it comes to major sports. Also made me want to start a 12-team soccer league where thuggery and drunkenness and chaos was encouraged, picking the absolute dregs of America to take part, like Philly and Boston and Oakland and Detroit and places where people are crazy and hopeless but still love sports.

#12: WESTERN CONNECTICUT STATE COLONIALS (0-7, 31.714 avg. margin of defeat, unranked last week) – They played Montclair State last weekend and lost, 31 to 3. Most of my experiences in Connecticut have been sketchy, so I have very little love for that state. I know a bunch of rich white asses be living in parts of it, but mostly I seem to end up at truck stops with crazy Dominicans trying to fight me by the claw machine outside the bathroom, or in hotels where the desk clerk is a hot ass Puerto Rican girl that makes me want to have sex with a hot ass Puerto Rican girl except I know that Puerto Ricans are the worst of all western hemisphere brown people.

#13: SAVANNAH STATE TIGERS (0-8, 31.500 avg. margin of defeat, #13 last week) – Savannah State lost at Alabama State, 24 to 0, giving them two straight scoreless weeks. Looks like they have this weekend off, so good for them. Then they come to Virginia, my disgusting home state, to play Old Dominion’s upstart football team. I don’t have anything more to say than that really, but I needed to type another line so that the football helmet images didn’t get jumbled together.

#14: QUINCY HAWKS (0-8, 31.375 avg. margin of defeat, unranked last week) – They lost at St. Ambrose, 44 to 7, last weekend, and that was a loss that was 44 to 7. The main thing for me about this is I’m pretty much done writing this thing that no one will read, so now I have to figure out what I want to masturbate about. Finally.

Gone from the list from last week: #10 New Mexico Lobos (30 to 20 loss to San Diego State, so they mathematically barely missed the Shit List cut), #11 MacMurray Highlanders (a game against Crown of Minnetonka ended in a 44 to 28 loss, so MacMurray still has time to return to this list), #14 Kentucky Christian Knights (a double OT loss against Lindsey Wilson, 40 to 37, so sad but not quite Shit List worthy).

S14: Best College Football Teams

Look, I am bored with this shit, at least the pretending to care about college football teams I never heard of enough to write a blurb about them, but not enough to stop doing the dork mathery part. So these will be short and probably not sweet. What do you care? You’re not even reading this, are you?

#1: WISCONSIN-WHITEWATER WARHAWKS (7-0, 39.571 avg. margin of victory, #5 last week) – Destructed Wisconsin-River Falls in scenic and date rapery River Falls, 63 to 14. Maintained numero uno in divicion tres. There are no such things in real life anymore as “warhawks” because man has ultimately become a pussy and wants to technify things to make killing a motherfucker scientifically complicated as fuck to remove ourselves from being like, “yeah, I just beat that dude dead with a rock.”

#2: OREGON DUCKS (7-0, 39.286 avg. margin of victory, #4 last week) – Kicked UCLA’s ass like mad, 60 to 13 last weekend, wearing invisible lime green uniforms you could only see with special Nike 4D sunglasses. They are now #1 in all the voted Division I polls, but still only #2 in the BCS standings. There are no such things in real life as day-glo ducks, although if you do acid and have pure white mallards, they are fun to trap in the living room with your black light on.

#3: SIOUX FALLS COUGARS (8-0, 37.250 avg. margin of victory, #8 last week) – Most lopsided win of the year last weekend for Sioux Falls, who beat the Dakota Wesleyans, 63 to 3, and maintained their kung fu grip on the #1 ranking in the NAIAs. I have never been to South Dakota, but would love to fuck an older woman in a rundown hotel there. For me older means like 50 tops, because older than that is creepy. Harold & Maude has always been the most creepy as fuck movie that ever existed. Seriously. I would rather watch bestiality snuff flicks than Harold & Maude.

#4: ST. XAVIER COUGARS (9-0, 36.667 avg. margin of victory, #9 last week) – And St. Xavier is #3 in the NAIAs. Last weekend they beat the Iowa Wesleyans, 65 to 6. It was obviously not a good weekend to be a midwestern wesleyan fan of obscure football. I have been to Illinois, but I would still enjoy fucking an older woman in a rundown hotel there, like maybe Lucinda Williams.

#5: SOUTH ALABAMA JAGUARS (7-0, 36.429 avg. margin of victory, #1 last week) – The Jaguars flew out to Killafornia and beat UC-Davis, 24 to 21, which harshed their average margin of victory buzz, dropping them to #5 on my nonsense list that nobody respects. But shout out to that random thread from some website that shows up in my webstats. Congrats to you USA boosters for a wonderful season of football. Your team logo is not very great, and looks like the Nittany Lions which is the absolute least design-worthy team to ever try to emulate.

#6: MINNESOTA-DULUTH BULLDOGS (8-0, 36.125 avg. margin of victory, #2 last week) – They wonned at Northern State last weekend, 27 to 7, and they are consistently being the #2 team in Division II. Ever since I watched Deadwood and they said “squareheads” for those people, when I meet people from Minnesota whose grandparents are from Germany and Sweden, and they have big square heads and know who will get drafted in this year’s amateur hockey draft, I laugh and laugh and laugh inside my head, and sometimes out loud. And when they go, “What’s so funy?” I answer, “Nothing,” even though really, it was something. Who the fuck laughs at nothing? I’m not a homeless retard with a brain destroyed by crack and alcoholic energy drinks.

#7: TRINE THUNDER (7-0, 35.714 avg. margin of victory, #3 last week) – They won at Hope last weekend, 31 to 10, and are still #8 in Division III football. They are the Trine Thunder and I imagine when the whole team busts through a paper sign to charge onto the field for a big Saturday afternoon home game, it does not sound like thunder so much as a bunch of white dudes and black guys who got higher than 1400 on the SATs running in the same direction as each other, literally and figuratively.

#8: BOISE STATE BRONCOS (6-0, 35.167 avg. margin of victory, #6 last week) – Well, my records here don’t take into consideration their goddamned stupid fucking game on Tuesday night, because mostly I figure normal college football ends on Saturday and might start on Thursday but mostly just Saturday. How the fuck am I supposed to take Boise State seriously if they play on a blue field on Tuesday nights? I mean, I love underdogs as much as anyone on this cursed earth, but Boise State is like a rollerball team or some shit. Fuck them.

#9: UTAH UTES (7-0, 34.857 avg. margin of victory, #12 last week) – Pretty much lower half of the top 10 of every of the 39 different Division I polls, and beated Colorado State last weekend, 59 to 6. If I could have sex with one cartoon character, it’d be the mom from Family Guy. If it was with one comic strip character, it would be Dagwood Bumstead’s wife, whose name I do not know, but she be looking tight. Better than her daughter even.

#10: WESLEY WOLVERINES (7-0, 34.143 avg. margin of victory, #7 last week) – Doesn’t look like they played last weekend, and are still ranked #3 in Division III. They are from Delaware. I didn’t realize they had private schools or whatever the fuck Wesley is in Delaware. I figured it to all be truck stops and University of Phoenixes Institutes.

#11: MOUNT UNION RAIDERS (7-0, 32.174 avg. margin of victory, #13 last week) – Shut out Capital, 38 to 0, and are still #2 in Division III footballs. There are no real life raiders anymore, because we have 49 laws for every three people. We are an overlegislated completely nagged to death by our government henpecked soulless fuckfaces. This is why football is so awesome to us.

#12: TEXAS CHRISTIAN HORNED FROGS (8-0, 30.875 avg. margin of victory, #14 last week) – They beat Air Force last weekend, 38 to 7, and are ranked #4 in most prominent Division I polls. My middle child has become fascinated with Christianity, which means someone somewhere is exposing it to her, because she ain’t getting it at home. The other day in the truck, she asked me and the oldest kid, “Do you know who Jesus is?” We both said yes, but she still answered her own question with, “He’s that guy that died.”

#13: MCPHERSON BULLDOGS (7-0, 30.857 avg. margin of victory, unranked last week) – They stomped on Southwestern, 55 to 21, at wherever Southwestern of Kansas College Thing is located at, and are still ranked #6 in the NAIAs. This nice victory helped them prop themselves back on this Bully List, which I’m sure the McPherson athletic department is going to include in their weekly email to their 19 boosters.

#14: WITTENBERG TIGERS (8-0, 29.125 avg. margin of victory, #10 last week) – Edged out Carnegie-Mellon, 27 to 21, falling down the Bully List, which means nothing, as I’ve made perfectly clear. They are #7 in Division III, and there’s a kid I work with who is an undergraduate, kinda tubby and son of a doctor, and not so sharp, and I secretly call him “Wittenberg” because that’s what he seems like to me.

Gone from the list from last week: #11 St. Thomas Tommies (barely beat Bethel last weekend, 10 to 6, thus falling off this list incrementally).

p e r f a

random cloudburst explosions
filter the solar and tweak
the twilight side road ride home

Thursday, October 28

Wednesday, October 27

Tuesday, October 26

h a r t a


I sprayed a heart on a post
for this chick, but then the club
went out of business for good

Monday, October 25

r i s e r


cirrus blur riding raised tracks
above the nasty vegas
streets, full of glazed brain gawkers

Sunday, October 24

p g s p d


mouth full of leafy lettuce,
tame pig stalking my crouching
ass, trying to steal his soul

Saturday, October 23

Friday, October 22

J.J. Krupert Top 13 Countdown - August '10 #1: "Marriage of the Outlaw to the Straight and Narrow" by Blue Globe Beats


Another Boogie Brown beat, and I sit here wondering why I ain’t wearing a t-shirt with my own stupid phrase printed on the front? Why ain’t got a microphone plugged into the computer sitting underneath a baby doll on the kitchen floor? Why ain’t I got graffiti on the ceiling and why ain’t I got a tattoo on my left forearm to match the one on my right forearm but different? Why ain’t I got rims on my truck? Why I ain’t got a machine gun with an Oscar Zeta Acosta quote scratched into the side? Why ain’t I seen Boogie Brown in like a year, and why ain’t we play bones tonight at Deric’s house? Why ain’t I getting wild with the ol’ lady at the Wyndham in Lynchburg all weekend long? Why ain’t I trying harder to stop trying so hard? Life is real as fuck, but I’m a fresh-dipped soul warrior from SS Va. and we shall survive. My dad always said that, “Son, we’re survivors.” He also taught me of the special psychic powers we have, that I think my grandfather brought back from Korea. Seriously. That shit is in my aura beam, and if you see me in real life, it’ll shine at you. Nothing non-humble about it, because it’s as much a burden as a blessing, because the shining aura attracts the man-moths. No worries. Most of them folks got things to say that you can infuse yourself with. Too many folks expect the world to get sterilized and be biodynamically and environmentally and organically perfect. But life is too real for most people. It’s sex, trash, and making psychic lemonade all goddamn day/week/year long out of chronic lemonitis. Do it to it real world. We got these fake motherfuckers held by their attention span.
STEAL "Marriage of the Outlaw to the Straight and Narrow"
NEXT MONTH:
It would be the September Krupert countdown, when I moved my Itunes to a new computadora, so it will be the last hurrah of my originoo song clappaz!

J.J. Krupert Top 13 Countdown - August '10 #2: "Cadillac Jack" by Andre Williams


I, like a lot of 30-something former opiate enthusiast white dudes, first ever heard of Andre Williams through the Crypt Records mail order catalog, where the asshole who ran that shit was like IF YOU DON’T KNOW WHO ANDRE WILLIAMS IS YOU ARE AN ASSHOLE AND YOU SUCK AND YOU SHOULD DIE THIS IS THE BEST GREATEST SHIT EVER TO BE RECORDED or something along those lines. But I didn’t buy nothing with the dude back then. However, at some point during the internet age in the past year of my life, I finally remembered the dude’s name (after mistakenly stealing some Nathaniel Mayer first), and snagged that ass off the interwebz. And it’s not THE GREATEST SHIT EVAR! or anything, but it’s pretty goddamned good. I’m a sucker for that ’60s era country R&B (kinda like I’m a sucker for country rap nowadays, meaning Alabama shit like G-Side and Jackie Chain, not Nashville crap like fucking Colt Ford) and there’s a ton of Andre Williams songs I can get down with, but this “Cadillac Jack” song hit me the mostest of them all. I love the concept of a dude being completely wrapped up in one single solitary material possession, because people do that. And I love the “goes up quick/comes down fast” karmic tale, not to mention the irony of the ending. But mostly, that fucking part at the end where Andre drawls out into a break, instead of just singing “Cadillac” like you’d expect from the rest of the song, where he’s all “long… looonnnng… black… blaaacccckkkkk… blaaaaaaaaacccccccckkkkkkkk… Cadillac,” and the back-up singers crank in as soon as he hits the Cadillac word, that’s some next level other level never again level shit. I actually was playing that song one day in the house and stopped it to explain to my oldest two kids how awesome it was and why it was an example of motherfucking musical song-making brilliance. It may not have sunk in that day, but I’m laying the groundwork for them to recognize the real. Life is real as fuck for most people on this world, so you’ve got to be able to recognize it, especially when some crazy old dude is flipping it on it’s ass and letting it run away then grabbing the world by the tail again, pulling it back, letting it run again, and then wrapping it up and making it feel just right on the proper axis like it wanted to go all along. That takes supreme psychologics, and that’s Andre’s thang more than any thang.
STEAL "Cadillac Jack"
NEXT UP
: Finally wrapping up August!

100 VINYLZ: #52 - Fire On the Mountain by The Charlie Daniels Band


(1974, Kama Sutra Records)
The fun thing about getting back into doing this list is why I originally started to want to do it anyways. It was because my record collection is this immense thing that meanders and osmosisides its way along with my life. And when I started this list, after months of figuring and calculating and having all sorts of notecards with albums or singles laid out on the camper trailer table to try and be as inclusive as possible. And as of now, my record collection kicks it in two spots on the compound, with fat stacks of non-family friendly music out in the camper, buried under some relocated crap from the house because I abandoned camper style earlier this year when it abandoned me, and then a ton of records in the house on an unfinished shelf that runs the entire hallway of the front of my crib. Probably about 500 records outside and 1000 inside, not to mention the stacks of 7-inches that are tucked away here and there. I actually had a couple dead 7-inch soldiers in the camper from the heat wave earlier this year, including a couple tight ass soul jams. But fuck it man, that’s what records are for, and what this list is about – being a part of your life, not a goddamn asset or bragging point or whatever the fuck.
That all being disclaimered and laid out, some of these records are not one actual physical records, because I’ve got multiple copies. And this record – Fire on the Mountain – it was one I grew up with. This is the Charlie Daniels Band album that contains the TRUE redneck hippie anthem, more so than any corny ass “Freebird” or whatever else – “Long Haired Country Boy” which is what I think of when I hear someone say “Charlie Daniels”. I guess the normal world thinks “Devil Went Down to Georgia” but that just reminds me of why I’m so ready to fight the rest of the world for being misguided and lost.
Anyways, I grew up with this, the ol’ man playing this record constantly. But as I got older and went away to college and got into the whole DJ/record collecting bullshit, I knew this was a classic and would grab whatever copy I could find if it was on the cheap at Plan 9. I, at one point, had four copies of it. Years ago, when we moved, I thinned everything down to one copy each, except for rare exceptions where I kept a back-up, and this was one of those exceptions. Too classic not to make sure I can play it.
But for me, the ultimate memory of this album is back when me and Boogie Brown were doing Prolo music in college, and had No Joke G as our DJ, and we had a song called “Drankin’ Wine” where we sampled that “a drunkard wants another drink of wine” line from “Long Haired Country Boy” and it was tight. My rhyme style in that song was old early ‘90s rapid-fire polysyllabism, but all about sitting around in the alley drinking a gallon bottle of wine with my boys. “I feel fine ‘cause the wine buzz goes to my toes/my mind does not worries, reminds to Prolo/oh no the bottle’s empty so let us slide/thru the door of the store Ford Escort is the ride” and so on. Basically, if anybody out there in cybertron listened to S.E.P. and dug that “30-Pack” song, I just now realized that “Drankin’ Wine” was like the precursor to that. (Not to mention that’s why when S.E.P. did a song with the same them, we called it “Drankin’ Wine – Part 2”.)
Well, we played this college graduation party on Floyd Ave. in RVA, I think it was only our second show ever, and shit was funny. Bunch of drunk ass white people watching some drunk ass hip hop by longhaired ass rural fuck-ups, in like ’93. Well, across the hall from these fine young college graduated ass people lived these older redneck fuckers, including one who was as big as Andre the Giant, or so it seemed. I should mention because I miss that motherfucker and know he can’t be but less than two hours away somewhere in this real world, my man Boxhead was in the house as well.
So this big redneck dude comes in with his little sidekick redneck friend, and they’re obviously looking to make trouble, and the people throwing the party are all worried and uptight, looking to shut it down before trouble gets found, but I – in normal lifelong Raven mode – stroll over to the big dude and am like, “What’s up?” We make edgy confrontational talk for a few minutes, and I am drunk so I’m hyped about being able to conquer the world, and he complains about the rap music, and I’m like, “What the fuck do you like?” and somehow he says something like, “Hey man, I’m just a long haired country boy,” so I’m like, “Hold up man I got something for you.” And I go over to No Joke G, who is probably playing some supremely terrible white-friendly conscious rap music at that point, and tell him to pick out the Charlie Daniels Band record. He’s like, “What’s it look like?” “Man, it’s the one you got two copies of that we cut during ‘Drankin’ Wine’,” and he has it. Those two copies, by the way, are one of my folks’ and one of my own. So he throws it on, and that guitar starts out – pure motherfucking anthem music – and it just blasts, and me and Boxhead and the big redneck dude and my boy Jocephus all just sing that shit loud as fuck. There were more than a few people at the party scared as shit, because it was gonna be confrontation and chaos and good times ruined, but it came together; and yet somehow many folks was still uncomfortable by how it was happening. But all I know is that song off that record turned a party into a motherfuckin’ party – the type of shit you remember, like I do to this day. And the chick whose party it was, who I dug and haven’t seen since and don’t even remember her name to be honest even though I was wishing I could get next to her back then, she came up to me at the end of the night and was like, “Thanks. That was the best graduation party I could have ever hoped for.” And me and that big redneck dude as round as he was tall who strolled in to talk shit to the egghead college kids, we were best friends by the end of the night.
That’s how I roll in real life, a potna for all, and powered by music. That shit might sound corny, but it’s real life.

Friday Love/Hate

I love the free form bullshit of my blog, because I can just up and decide, “Hey, I’ll do a Friday Love/Hate,” and even though I haven’t done one here for a long ass minute, there’s a history, and the cloud of tags becomes an even more clusterfucked labyrinth to get lost in. At one point, I was like everybody else who was like, “Hey, I can only use this blog for this one idea I have because that’s a great idea for a blog,” and you do it, and then you don’t do it, and then you get a different idea and have to start a different blog because it’s not the same parameters. Little by little, Rojonekku has become me cybertronically, with running themes and annoying habits and sometimes I say the same shit I done already said but other times I say something really great by complete accident because I am not a man but a mouthpiece for something from somewhere else. When I was four, I used to scribble words on the record sleeves laying around by the stereo, and I have some of those LPs now, and it looks like alien hieroglyphics making sense somewhere to someone and there was obvious purpose but I don’t know what it was and still don’t. Sometimes I feel like that’s how I still write. It is far better when I get in a zone of deliriums, aided sometimes by alcohol of pills or tinctures or baked pork chops, and the next day I realize there’s 10,000 words somewhere that I wrote and I don’t remember half of it. Responsible life has infringed upon me being able to do that as much as I’d like (all day every day), but I still remain a quality fuck-up while maintaining employment and keeping the lights on.

Haha, old confederatemack.com pictures too. I plugged in an old ass computer that had been hiding in the camper. I'm gonna throw up some old shit this weekend galore.
I hate smart phones. Goddamn electronic eartags for the cell phone towers of babel everywhere, that’s what they are. Let’s see how smart your smart phone is when we go walk these railroad tracks to where this underground tunnel through the mountain is, now abandoned and covered with hillbilly graffiti. Your phones won’t work down there, bro, and we’re gonna smoke dirtweed and get all purranoid as fuck and then I’m gonna take the flashlight and run into the dark and hide and you’re gonna have to find me. Hope that smart phone battery got power left bitch.

Weekly Recap

Well, I skipped a week there but ain't shit to recap anyways. New editorial command at Heavy dried up that gig, but Armchair Linebacker is always there, where you can read my angry and drunken Washington Redskins fandom play out firsthand. This past week, I recapped the loss to the Colts, and talked about how important in the modern NFL climate it will be for the Redskins to concuss more people than concuss them.
Additionally, the dude that be doing Amphetazine is putting up older classics from this site over there (like this thing about Goat Rights vs. Property Rights). Amphetazine is a noble idea, and the other stuff over there is interesting, so you should check it out. I hope I have remembered to put it in my sidebar, but mayhaps I have not yet.
Speaking of which, you can order the book I have a story in (story called Escambia Counties) called Florida Heat Wave, with other projects on the horizon. Everything I do, I have to do all grand and convoluted, so none of these projects are on the immediate horizon, but they are there. I can definitely feel an energy shift of shit about to be changing in the coming year. In relation to that, I know I have a loyal fanbase, but whenever you feel the lololols or enjoy some of my dumb shit on Rojonekku, it helps to click those sharing buttons under every post. I could remain an obscure dude forever and live a long frustrated life, or I could become exploited in exchange for fame and ultimately self-destruct through my own drunken recklessness because of the way my DNA is swirled. You can help me do the latter by sharing links and helping spread my fresh-dipped SS Va. ways to the rest of the crooked ass world. Mad daps to you if you do. And the reason I'd prefer the exploited ultimately destructive route instead of the obscurity route is because one involves dick tattoos and the other does not. It has long been my goal in life to have a dick tattoo, meaning a tattoo on my penis, not a tattoo of a penis. Also relatedly to the new-fangled cybertronic hyping machines of the world, I have the twitters now (@rojonekku) and yes, twitters is the stupidest fucking idiotic goddamn thing ever. Yes. But I am there. And being certain real life people who are Facebook fans are not in the twitters, I find I can get away with saying stupider things there, which of course, just perpetuates what the twitters actually is. It is a bizarre spiral we are in.
Also, Rojonekku t-shirts, hopefully beginning of November, will be for sale. You can always donate money to my dumb ass to buy caffeine-free ginger ale to take my medicines with by clicking the ENABLE ROJONEKKU button. If you give me $10, I'll postcard you back. If you give $20 or more, I'll write you a letter. (Triple N - your letter is on my desk at home; I keep meaning to tear this one page out of a magazine to put in the envelope too but keep forgetting to get the magazine in question out of the camper behind my house after work. John B - I will write you a letter this weekend... thanks bro.)
Another also, this past week I wrote about an Uncle Sinner song in the J.J. Krupert countdown, and actually got an email from the dude Uncle Mike Sinner, who is as solid as his song suggested to me, and fights that good/bad fight with pushing your ideas out to the world through the inhibiting DNA of deeply embedded recklessness and destruction. Anyways, Uncle Sinner has a myspace, and after talking to the dude, I felt compelled to share the link. Check it out.
Finally, I am in the preliminary stages of setting up a monthly event called the CVA WFA or Central Virginia Word Fighting Arts. This is an offshoot of my personal brand of meandering writing - Rojonekku - which is a SSVA (southside Virginia) word fighting art, not so much to fight other people but just generally to fight the entire fucking world and everything that makes life so goddamn hard to handle on a day-to-day basis. It is so easy to just fellate a pistol and cash out early, and I had an uncle of mine do that back in the day and he was one of the most solid dudes I ever knew. But fuck man, when you are blessed with the unlocked creativity flow of whatever medium your brain is predisposed towards, you have to use it to keep yourself from being dead. And if you ain't got it unlocked yet, you have to find that shit. Ultimately that's what Rojonekku is all about anyways, and I should have some sort of explanation for all this on the blog, but I don't. That's one of the projects on the horizon, the Rojonekku Training Manual, which literally what it sounds like, methods and exercises I've used with the semi-delinquent vagabond teenagers I tend to attract to the compound, to put them on the path to not fucking up the world normal-style, where all you do is get put in jail, but fucking it up on that other level, where you destroy norms by proudly being your own form of normal, disrupting the status quo's standards of normalcy. It's an important fucking thing to do, in fact it's imperative. Honestly, I regard my paypal donations as slush funds for just such endeavors, so I don't tell my family about it. Those $20 drops here or there do not go to electric bills or gas for the truck or new ballet shoes for the kid; it all goes on fucked up things. Old Easyriders off Ebay or 17 different world flags that look fucked up to string up along the roadside in front of my house to scare the world or india ink to continue putting raggedy ass homemade stars on my thighs or a box of wine to go hike all the way through the pitch black darkness of the Crozet tunnel through Afton Mountain with my man D-Mo. It generates psychic nonsense for my little corner of the world, which in turn is filtered into more psychic nonsense words - Rojonekku - inside the interweb demons, which hopefully is strong enough to transmit through all the electronic clutter in our lives just enough to spiral your day into a more nonsensical and non-normal way. That's really all I want to do - fuck shit up with words.

l e f t b


hardscrabble, half-assed, brown lifestyle –
piecing it together as
meandering life demands

Thursday, October 21

J.J. Krupert Top 13 Countdown - August '10 #3: "Kowboyz and Indians" by Gonjasufi


I do not smoke weed anymore, at least not on the internet, and I am not into sufism, as I do not work at an independent health food store where Whole Foods is considered the Hitleresque equal to Wal-Mart, so I am not naturally inclined to Gonjasufi. His music is not really for those that desire music, because it’s basically warbled craziness screaming against all the cell phone towers of Babel we’ve not only willingly thrown up everywhere we can, but we actually have gotten excited and consider it “smart” to have the attached electronic tracking devices that work with those towers of Babel. What the fuck? If any of that makes sense to you, then Gonjasufi might as well. Or maybe not. Shit man, I don’t know. I’m wasting time at work trying to write words together and there are SIX FUCKING MONITORS in this tiny room, pointed at my brain with the HAARP beam precision crossing pattern, holding my soul down like the Ghostbusters dudes trapping a ghost, just without Bill Murray’s wisecracks to make the day go by easier. My printer is printing slowly and I don’t know why, and I just checked my bank bullshit and I am broke like $11 broke, and payday is still 8 days away. On top of this all I really want to do is go walk railroad tracks up near Waynesboro and enjoy the fall air and leaves changing and find that Crozet tunnel and go do shitty graffiti that says ROJONEKKU in bubble letters inside of it, but can’t, because of work and because of being $11 broke and because of being so invested already into this bullshit that I have to play it out and hope it works out good for me in the end, which used to mean wild wealth at one point in my more naïve mind, but now just means that hopefully I do not die homeless with a mental disease that prevents me from making sense even to myself. Although I guess there is something to be said for that.
STEAL "Kowboyz and Indians"
NEXT UP
: An old R&B track about a Cadillac!

J.J. Krupert Top 13 Countdown - August '10 #4: "Sun Is On My Side" by Gogol Bordello


Being part of the internet age where everything is everywhere and then it disappears in a cloudy frenzy of cubicle-encased hatred, most things seem awesome as fuck at some point and then will suddenly be the lamest thing you have ever seen. The turn is incredible. It used to be you had to wait months for something like this to happen, until you read a Spin article by some jackass hyping up something that you had previously thought was the most amazing shit ever, and suddenly you realized that what you thought was this amazing thing was kinda just blind luck achieved by questionable individuals. And on top of that, worldwide, a bunch of assholes who you would rather pound with a ball peen hammer in the skull are loving on that same shit, thus your peers. Before the internet, that was the incubation period of the natural contrarian.
Now though, things can take the swing far more quickly. For me, a few years back, hearing about Gogol Bordello playing a tea house with some anarcho-bullshit show full of people and energy, it was a good sounding thing. And when I stole their music from inside the interwebs, some of it was great, some of it was predictable. Mostly, that pseudo-European crazy vibe was nice to me, as I’ve become really fascinated with American whiteys who have a sense of their specific cultural heritage, as opposed to the retarded overall WE ARE WHITE THEREFORE BETTER generic heritage that most southern whites are relegated to. (Perhaps I should start an ethnically prejudiced southern white organization that is disgusted at how southern whites have intermixed and wants us all to segregate back to our original European tribal entities – bring ethnic cleansing philosophy to America.) This comes up often as I try to explain to my children what they have the most of inside of them. I mean, my maternal grandfather was the American-born child of Polish immigrants, and my maternal grandmother was the American-born child of Norwegian immigrants. Genetically, this explains why I am stupid and crazy, which also drives home the point of how knowing your cultural heritage can more properly prepare you to be who you truly are. All my life I have been conflicted with being so stupid and so crazy, trying to assimilate into status quo lifestyles, be responsible, when my true deep down DNA essence wants to grow my hair long, get drunk, and wreck straight into a guardrail at 3 am on a Thursday morning, but survive, and turn it into a funny story about how I ran off down a logging trail on foot with one fractured legbone so I didn’t get my fourth DUI and have to go to jail for 6 months. It’s my natural inclination.
Of course, all this, combined with my obsessive compulsiveness, is probably why I’ll be one of those creepy ass old dudes looking up family history at strange record keeping enclaves in Pennsylvania or Utah, usually near where there’s a religious movement with roots going back to the Old World that want to maintain proper records like that. (In fact, if I’m going to start a southern whites segregate amongst your different whitenesses organization, I should also start up a mulatto awareness record keeping bureaucracy privately funded, hopefully somewhere in northwest Georgia near the North Carolina border. Because if those places are funded internally, and usually associated with religious movements, there’s no real religious movement attached to the blessed melting pot destruction of white and black that’s come on since hip hop music, so we need to get the ball rolling now. They tried to start a church of hip hop, but those dudes can’t even get enough money to keep Afrika Bambaataa’s old housing project from being turned into a condo like the rest of NYC.)
Anyways, I really got into Gogol Bordello for a spell. But then I started to notice their in-real-life references cross from retarded hipster types to more sterile Whole Foods shopper types. This was disconcerting. As goofy as the hipster is, seeing some dude in a fedora and black-framed glasses driving a ’75 Impala down the street blaring Gogol Bordello is still less unnerving – to me at least – than seeing a soccer mom taking her daughter to ballet in a Toyota Prius quietly pumping Gogol Bordello. So as that type of visual and personal conversational chatter started to pick up, my contrarian radar started blipping.
After that, I got some movie about the Eugene Hutz dude – a documentary done by a girl who obviously just wanted to be Eugene’s girlfriend – going through Gypsy country in east Europe. It was so fucking painful to watch, and I wavered from feeling like smashing that dude in the fucking mustachebones with an orange milk crate, to feeling sorry for holmes for being such an errant little sheep soul in this big confusing modern world. It is that second feeling that still overtakes me from time to time, that no matter our internet age judgments, we are all basically uncool as fuck, and errant souls stumbling across the surface of a far too technologized planet, trying to find some people to sit on a long couch in an alley with and feel a part of something. Times like that is when “Sun is On My Side” would be warmly embraced while I ride down the road in my shitty truck, always pulling to the left, chewing up tire tread, window down, waiting for salvation.
And of course my contrarian nature will kick in, even with myself. And being this is the internet, no matter my true feelings, I have to act like I could only under the right circumstances like a newer Gogol Bordello song, because lolcatz youtube ofwgtka amirite?
STEAL "Sun Is On My Side"
NEXT UP
: Homeless rap – the best homeless music made ever since hobos stopped making guitars out of scrap construction material!

NFL WEEK 7: North Divisions - 2nd Quarter

The NFL is all in a hubbub over motherfuckers getting concussed, and pretending it ain’t football. It reminds me of safe sex. Safe sex, though safe, sucks. There is nothing like feeling your bare penis slide in and out of an exposed vagina. That’s just how it is. Making football safer and safer to not concuss people is just going to make it worse. The NFL should think like cigarettes and just start trying to recruit more third worlders to keep these rosters filled with delusional athletic specimens that mistakenly believe they will make enough money to live a long and glorious luxury life.
Anyways, this week in my power scale metascientific index, we plug in the North division filters, and shall shenanigan our way through those eight teams, discussing trivial items, and perhaps making a point or two, and maybe even entertaining somebody, but mostly just wasting a whole lot of fucking time. And away we stroll…

#1: BALTIMORE RAVENS (4-2, 3rd overall) – The Ravens are 3rd overall in the NFL according to my highly infallible system, even with two losses. Granted, there are no for-real knock-out teams obvious on the landscape yet, but the Ravens are sort of a boring team to watch play football. Some would have you believe this is throwback smashmouth football, but I would tell you otherwise. It’s just boring. They should change their uniforms to orange to match the Orioles. And I saw a picture one time of Ray Rice’s thighs and it was kinda disgusting. It actually made me want to vomit. THIS WEEK: they host the worst team in professional football – the Buffalo Bills.

#2: PITTSBURGH STEELERS (4-1, 4th overall) – Man, more than any other team, there is always some sort of nonsense going on with the Steelers. Either Roethlisberger has done something with his penis or Polamalu is too pretty, and then this week after getting fined for obliterating some sort of Al Qaeda operative who played for the Cleveland Browns, James Harrison is like, “Man, fuck this, I’m quitting.” Those black alternate uniforms with the yellow helmets they wore last weekend, that shit is the bomb though. Speaking of uniform colors, and matching a baseball team, one of the great things about Pittsburgh major sports teams is they all rock the same colors. I do not understand why other cities don’t roll with that style too. I guess every franchise wants to pretend their dick is the hardest and the main game in town, but come on man, you could paint the entire city of Pittsburgh black and gold and it would rep the city year-round. Solid. THIS WEEK: on the road at Miami, who are playing surprisingly well, although not that surprising because Bill Parcells is a sneaky fucker, in what should be a pretty good game.

#3: GREEN BAY PACKERS (3-3, 15th overall) – Once again, the Packers are cursed with injuries, and are not going to fulfill the destiny Packers leadership has promised all the fat clogged artery cold-natured fans of their once they were officially like, “Okay Brett, fuck off.” The Packers should rock an alternate helmet that is green with the white G on it. Everybody should rock alternate everything, and you of course have to sell alternate green jerseys for your team if you are in a northeast city with a bunch of fucking Irish people. Actually, I guess if retarded Nike is going to take over NFL uniform deals in the coming years, judging from how Nike has screwed up everything they’ve done with college uniforms (see Oregon Ducks), I would imagine we’re only about three years away from NFL teams having 12 different uniforms per year, mixing and matching 3 helmets with 5 jerseys and 3 pants plus special socks on big games. Fucking Nike. THIS WEEK: Sunday night football from Lambeau Field, hosting archrival the Vikings and arch-nemesis Brett Gunslinger. It will be a thing, I am sure.

#4: CHICAGO BEARS (4-2, 18th overall) – In case you are the type like myself who likes to delude yourself into thinking reality ain’t real because some wacky numbers you saw seem better than what’s real, let me assure you, the Bears fucking suck. They are a weak weak weak 4-2. I have a lot of specific hatred talking points for the Bears in my brain, but it’s Redskins vs. Bears week, so I will save that shit talk for Armchair Linebacker. THIS WEEK: hosting my beloved Redskins. I’ll be at my moms’s house too so I’ll have to watch it in my non-home environment.

#5: MINNESOTA VIKINGS (2-3, 21st overall) – The Vikings/Cowboys game last weekend was an elimination match, or so they are saying, between two prominent overhyped franchises. Ultimately, I think the perfect ending to Brett Favre’s career would be for him to Ol’ Gunslinger it up for one more year – in Dallas, with all those weapons and Tony Romo being outed by Jerry Jones during the offseason so as to shame him out of the NFL. The Ol’ Gunslinger, with the Cowboys, it’s a match made in Heaven. And hopefully there’s an earthquake and that garish stadium and that retarded QB and that freak-faced owner all get sucked into an oil pit fourteen sedimentary layers into the earth. THIS WEEK: at the Packers like I said.

#6: CINCINNATI BENGALS (2-3, 22nd overall) – Carson Palmer, alleged superstar QB, has certainly not really fulfilled his superstar destiny. But on the bright side, so far as I remember, nobody has gotten arrested this year, or thrown from a moving truck, or did something overly ridiculous as a primadonna WR to call attention to themselves even though no one cares anymore. My favorite thing about the Bengals was when T.J. Houshmanzadeh played for them because he was Hindu and I imagined him having actual bengali tigers living in a mansion and fucking the flyest bitches ever from Bollywood, two at a time. Now Houshmanzadeh plays in Baltimore, and he has a ponytail, which means he’s involved in some sort of bullshit with Prop Joe in my mind now. My mind is a fucking stupid, twisted, mixed together mess of pop culture, creative aspirations, and schizophrenic illusions. THIS WEEK: travelling down to the ATL to take on the Falcons.

#7: CLEVELAND BROWNS (1-5, 27th overall) – The Browns, who are starting a 13-year-old as their QB right now, had multiple offensive scoring threats just get leveled off the field last week at the hands of the Steelers. It was ugly, even if all you watched were the highlights. The Browns, they are not so great. THIS WEEK: who cares? They are playing the Saints in New Orleans, which hopefully bodes well for my one fantasy team with Drew Brees, as half of both my teams either got injured or are on bye weeks.

#8: DETROIT LIONS (1-5, 30th overall) – The Lions seem to be pretty much doomed, no matter how hard they try not to be. Like seriously, it’s sad to see played out on a yearly scale, almost seems unfair. Like the NFL should let them have an expansion draft just to beef themselves up by taking players from other teams or something. They seem like they may be moving in a better direction, but there is something cosmically out of alignment regarding this team, causing them to never get over that hump. I mean, they had the best fucking RB of our generation in Barry Sanders, a guy who made Walter Payton seem forgettable, and still somehow all they got out of his ENTIRE CAREER was a playoff win or two. I don’t think they even made an NFC Championship game. Sad. THIS WEEK: taking a chill for a week, to come back ready to fight for susu, or whatever ancient white people word that old who walked a long ass ways was yacking about during the preseason.