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.

Wednesday, January 16

January IV

I do not know if anybody actually sees this website or if it's just robots that crawl through and make the artificial numbers even more artificial. Sometimes I think we are no longer a civilization but just robots talking robot to other robots. But as you can see from above, I have chickens. they keep me grounded, as they are ground birds - except many days I don't even see them because I sit at a desk in the middle of a ridiculous stack of bricks and do whatever it is I do that I get paid for, which ultimately leaves me barely hanging on financially, and suffering spiritually. What the fuck man? Anyways, here are some interaction-inducing things hopefully...
This is my actual home. At the corner upstairs closest to this picture is a huge loft I built for my oldest. The other children sleep up there on that floor as well, Little House on the Prairie style. Downstairs I scribble gambleraku graffiti scrolls. I am going to start sending gambleraku graffiti scrolls to whoever initiates or contributes some interesting discussion in the comments to each post on the blog, over the course of the next month or year or however long it takes. That begins with this post. I will do this forty times, because I am about to turn forty and because I do not trust the internet as much as I trust real things, so I am hoping to encourage real thing interactions with internet fuckers like yourself.
This is an actual milk crate that is my lucky milk crate. I am not lying either. It is my favorite of all the ones I have. I put my dilapidated laptop on it and write in the back yard. I do my One Thousand Feathers zine upon it, which nobody buys because A) who the fuck buys a zine in 2013? and B) who the fuck actually knows this even exists? But I am going to start giving them shits out in batches on my Twitter (@SSVa_Raven) because if they just sit around in piles it is going to make me feel stupider than I already feel.

And that is the way the neurons impulse this week. Have a glorious day.

4 comments:

kami said...

lets see if this dumb arse thing works today... having technological problems all the time now... hard drive crashed, bluray crashed,vcr died, hell even the damn toaster started cooking one side only... so lets see if i can actually say "i aint a robot and i always read yr damn page..." cheers and (faux) beers

Raven Mack said...

Haha, I bet the VCR was the hardest one for you too.

Anonymous said...

I'm not a robot, but working a day job that you're not interested in or motivated by leaves you feeling like a robot by the time the foreman pulls the tail on the bird that has you sliding down the dinosaur's back to make your way home...

(You know I read this.)

~Angie Not At Work.

kami said...

oh yeah, the vcr is giving me nightmares... all these great ol' movies from the trashy 80s i got layin in a box and i cant watch em!!