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.

Sunday, March 31

SONG OF THE DAY: Mary Jane (kudzu'd)

I grew up on raggedy ass homegrown, so new age weed with its space sciences in both growing and consuming is too much for me. It plucks at the fractures in my traumatized brain, and I end up just sitting there thinking about how much longer it's gonna be. Folks who are big ass weedheads are always like, "Oh you just gotta try this blah blah blah strain, and don't smoke it, you gotta ingest vaporized pellets" or some shit, but it never works; I just sit there cuddled into the bed like a babbling fool afraid to babble because he knows he's a fool, and self-conscious fools make for the worst internal babble. But please, if you are a user, feel free to tell me in the comments how my personal experiences are entirely wrong.

Saturday, March 30

SONG OF THE DAY: Cold, Cold, Cold (kudzu'd)

Riding a train to New Orleans so this track showing up as me writing about it next on my secret list that's always too far behind but nobody sees it so it doesn't matter is just about perfect. I love trains, and looking forward to walking around an alien place not doing shit for a couple days. Keep it slow, forever. The slower you live, the more timeless you are.

Friday, March 29

Thursday, March 28

SONG OF THE DAY: Red Dirt Boogie Brother

It’s easy to lament the loss of regional genres and sounds in the digital era, but the negative effect of algorithms is just going to push folks back into cross-pollinating each other IRL again. Digital adds another layer to our existence, but it’s been manipulated so heavily in recent years that it’s almost useless in actually encouraging art, as it’s all so commodity driven. Algorithms got no purpose other than to sell you shit (which includes stifling you selling your own shit so that you buy in to the algorithms, which always has limited success anyways).
And at the same time, in the old new ways, this song came into my playing by an old-fashioned download of a compilation off a music blog. I still do that. I don’t stream, and I don’t fuck with spotify. I don’t judge folks for streaming, because we all do what our generation is used to, but I do judge folks who pay for spotify. They pay Joe Rogan’s fucked up ass millions, but are cutting payments to musicians who don’t stream a high enough amount. Keep in mind, they’ll still be using those artists’ music in their system, but if you don’t reach a certain threshold, you don’t get paid. But also, all these systems we have in place, which were supposed to make everything better and more universally accessible are all getting broken, by capitalist greed. Everybody making a little bit of extra money wasn’t good enough, so they had to tinker with the shit and make it so a few people made a whole lot of extra money. That’s how it always is.
That’s the beauty of human creation, whether art or civilization… no matter how much it changes, it’s all still basically the same. People are gonna be dancing on the ashes of a lot of shit we think right now is eternal. That’s just how it is, and always will be, until it ain’t, but nobody can actually predict that.
Beyond all the shit talk by Mr. Blog Haver over here, this song fuckin’ rules. The pinnacle of my sunshine chaos was my early 20s drunken years when I had a 1981 Datsun 200SX that I paid $500 for and put like 150,000 miles on it. This is exactly the type of song I would’ve blasted, driving madly between nonsenses with a mind going 120 mph. My mind don’t like going that fast no more, but it’s okay. I’m learning to slow down and try to get further down the road than wreck into a guard rail pretending I’m still an old version of me that ain’t real no more.

Wednesday, March 27

SONG OF THE DAY: I Won't Love You Again

I love all songs where there’s horns that sound like summer insects, especially ones about love. I feel very disconnected from mainstream American life, with weirdly secure houses that have HVAC systems where the outside is never inside and the inside is a quarantine from nature. I like rattly windows propped open with a stick, and hearing the summer chorus of forest bugs, and being part of it all, rather than hiding from it, pretending I’m better than everything else. Humans really built some fucked up shit, didn’t we? Seems like we’ve over complicated every aspect of lounge. Oh well, fuck it. I can’t fix the world. I ain’t even fixed the leak in the roof yet. But it might not ever rain that heavy ever again.

Friday, March 15


Mostly listen to oldies at this point, and mostly don’t give a fuck. Thinking about forming a doo wop group if I could find four other people like myself, which can’t be easy, to be honest. I’m pretty fucked up.

Thursday, March 14

SONG OF THE DAY: Sunrise (kudzu'd)

Oh look, I wrapped up the heroic crown. It ain't the greatest sonnet in the world, but it's a sonnet, and it fits the pattern and rhyme scheme and gets it done, and I did in true freestyle sonnet fashion and wrote it in about 11 minutes with my rhyming dictionary at hand.

Infinite outlook grants this grimy world more grace, 
man's vision hyperextended our reach too far 
beyond what humility should have kept in place; 
star dusted crowns got delusions of grandeur... par 

for the course when dreamers discourse with mad schemers 
who build pyramids of abstractions. These unreal 
realities start to bind, blind to redeemers 
who arrive to remind us existence is wheel 

and not a line chart. My heart yearns for sunrises 
greeted with hopeful joy, and sunsets filled with peace; 
but this compromised world the devil devises 
entraps the spirit in sadness without release. 

Nonetheless, with stealth I conceal behind this face 
planet rock mentality born from outer space. 

Wednesday, March 13

SONG OF THE DAY: Struggling Man (kudzu'd)

Back on that freestyle sonnet tip, so as to wrap up this heroic crown hopefully. I really need to cobble together another book of freestyle sonnet heroic crowns.

Simplifying life also amplifies the funk; 
living with spunk and zeal has popular appeal 
but is far less practiced by masses far too drunk 
off performance without basis in being real. 

Ain't no carrying the weight of world created 
by men without struggling in mind from time to time; 
this labyrinth designed to entrap those baited 
with dreams of escape is a well organized crime 

against true pursuit of happiness. All this dirt 
of metaphysical nature which stains our acts 
of building our pyramid schemes will only hurt 
ourselves when it's time to pay universal tax 

of balance restored. At war with abstract wealth chase, 
infinite outlook grants grimy world far more grace.

Monday, March 11

SONG OF THE DAY: Lookin' For A Home (kudzu'd)

This is the song I named my last book of haiku after, but slowed down. That’s a pretty great book. Feel free to buy a copy if you randomly show up here and aren’t a robot.

Thursday, March 7

SONG OF THE DAY: Charlie Brown

Briefly was playing the fuck out of this song because my beloved girlfriend bought me some Charlie Brown masks made by Jimmy Valiant’s wife Angel for my birthday. This is not the cartoon character Charlie Brown, but when Jimmy Valiant had to leave town and just wrestled under a mask as Charlie Brown from outta town. The masks leave the beard area exposed, which is ideal when you have an actual beard. Unfortunately, the masks fit weird as fuck, like the eyeballs don’t line up well with my actual eyes. But I still love them very much, and we got to meet one of my childhood heroes when we picked them up at his wrestling camp. And I made him a haiku spike which he put on the wall there in the camp’s main building. The whole place is like an outsider art environment, with every available surface covered with pictures and art, and a little line of old prized vehicles out front too. In terms of rural arts compounds, it’s definitely a 5 out of 5 stars. Even had a nice little fountain, without water (probably still too close to winter).

Wednesday, March 6

SONG OF THE DAY: I Get High (On Your Memory)

Been in a rare period of lack of self-indulgence. There was a fairly cheap copy of this 45 on ebay, all the way up til the day of the auction ending, and I just let it go, didn’t bother. I guess I’m suffering from “economic anxiety” lol.

Tuesday, March 5

Friday, March 1

SONG OF THE DAY: Don't Mess With Me Baby

Abner Jay was a collection I got off a free bandcamp day from Mississippi Records, and I throw this music into my hard drive mix where I pick random selections to be included on my old iphone that works as an ipod, and the songs pretty much have to survive on their merit, according to my tastes. It’s a true meritocracy, albeit one heavily influenced by my personal biases, but it’s my music to listen to, so fuck it. In fact, all these songs of the day come from the most played songs over the course of a recent month. But I didn’t know shit about Abner Jay until digging on this music. His history is FUCKED. The grandson of a slave, learned the banjo and guitar from that grandfather, and the young Abner Jay played thoroughly in the minstrel circuit. He ran circles with Sister Rosetta Tharpe and was confidante and driver/assistant to Prophetess Dolly Lewis (who I will be researching more about shortly, I’m sure). At one point Abner Jay had a “converted mobile home that opened up into a portable stage, complete with amplification and home furnishings,” which apparently the performances included as much shit talking and side rants as music. He was living my dream! On top of this, he self-released a ton of his own recorded music, in small batches, prolifically. What we’re getting now (including the Mississippi Records collection this song is from) is just collections taken from pieces of that extensive discography. It’s very interesting to me though that the roots of rock-n-roll came from the rural South, where kooks like Abner Jay or Sister Rosetta Tharpe were sort of blurring the lines between secular and spiritual, and creating a spiritual secular form of art. I struggle a lot with sliding into normalcy (though I’m by no means living a normal life, lol). But goddamn, the world needs as many out there kooks as it can get. And I mean the esoteric kind, who know they can’t ever know, but keep grasping at any and everything and expressing themselves constantly while grasping. We’ve got far too many kooks nowadays who think they know, full of “information” that ain’t even halfway real, way too confident they got it all figured out, when that’s not even possible.
Anyways, here’s an Abner Jay song. And if you happen to be my sister, YOU’VE GOT TO GO LISTEN TO A BUNCH MORE OF THIS DUDE.