SONG OF THE DAY: West Coast for Suuure (Sweatson Klank Remix)

The gods of funk are far more disparate than we give them credit for, having come from the coastal regions around the Earth, moving along tributary migration paths (sometimes voluntarily, often times against their own consent) to locations in parts unknown. Yet the gods always seem to push their greatest prophets back from these nether regions towards the warm weather coasts again. The salt water is both the primordial breeding ground for the gods of funk, and where the necessary salt air is best for fermenting into the thickest sermons of funk best exemplifying the gods of funk's prophecy - that the thickness of the music is too much for brain, and in fact beyond the brain's ability to even deduce how to recreate in an analytical way, and in fact moves your heart, but even deeper still, pops your gut congresses with butterfly goodness, and gets your ass to shake against all better thinking (by brain). It is a beautiful thing, and we should all light a stick of incense and lay down some chunks of quartz somewhere in the house in honor of these great ancient gods of funk who continue to make our lives so god fuckin' blessed.

S1GN4TVR3 ST3NC1L G0T L0ST...

signature stencil got lost

somewhere in honeysuckle

clusterfuck behind camper

rojonekku word fighting

arts - an imaginary

12-step program to nothing

rusty metal barrel with

twenty-five caliber dents,

filled with rocks for field training

lost in the woods, preparing

self for selflessness, with the

militancy of kudzu

rainbow industrial world

manifestation of my

unown culture fermented

a thousand layers of sprayed

paint accumulates, thickness

beyond scope of naked guy

NEW Rojonekku Word Fighting Arts zines (issues 3 & 4)

I have had two new issues of my zine called the Rojonekku Word Fighting Arts zine for like over a month, but free money and free time are a Venn diagram of reality and my intersection is small. I readily admit I am of a position in life not necessarily what I felt born into, and thus my intersecting Free Time and Free Money Venn Diagram of Life Comfort is far larger than probably ever before since I’ve been a human being, but it still does not afford mailing shit out in a timely manner. No worries, I don’t have too many subscribers anyways. BUT GUESS WHAT – YOU CAN SUBSCRIBE TO MY ZINE 

HERE!

Sure zines are archaic and somewhat counterintuitive to our current cultural trainings, but I am a rock solid master of archaic counterintuitive arts. (More like slave, if we are being honest.)

Also I decided to no longer offer selling individual issues. These are limited print runs of 150 each issue, and subscribers start with #001 and whatever is unsubscribed upon I’m just gonna mail out to whoever I feel like. You are certainly able to email or write me and suggest places I mail these extra issues out to, even if it’s just yourself, but likely I will follow my own witless whims and will (of the wisp). This is going to be a losing proposition most likely so fuck it, I’ll send them wherever I see fit outside of subscribers.

Oh hey, speaking of archaic and nonsensical, I’ve decided that with the beginning of the new year in 2016, there will be a ridiculous nonsensical gibberish blog I’ll be doing which will be accessible to subscribers to the zine as well. Most likely most subscribers will not bother checking that site, as most people don’t check this site, as we don’t really see ourselves culturally trained to “check” websites any more, outside of our supercenter one-stop social media shops. THE DAYS OF THE SIMPLE MOM-AND-POP RAMBLING CONSPIRATORIAL WEBSITE ARE GONE, YO. But this is a thing that makes me happy, this nonsense blog which will be called New Earth Writing, so I am going to do it as a subscriber bonus, although it won’t really be a bonus but your native born right as someone who gives me money for the weird shit that comes out my brain (or heart, or even gut… I am not sure of the origins to be honest).

So here is what is in these two new issues, which you will receive as the beginning of your subscription if you subscribe from any point between now and when I finish issue 5 (which may be next spring, or next week… no predictions).

ROJONEKKU WORD FIGHTING ARTS ISSUE 3

INTRODUCTION (where I say hello)

BLOSSOM OF THE REDBUDS (nature’s screwed & chopped tree)

NATURE OF THE ELECTRIC STAPLER AT WORK & WHAT IT SIGNIFIES (not even my current work no more)

VULTURES & EAGLES (I saw some vultures)

BUDDHA DUMP TRUCK (tiny Buddha army in action)

THE PROMISE OF RAVEN MACK’S TILLER (neighbor neighbor, why you bugging)

DREAM JAGUAR (car, not spirit animal)

THE NATURAL URGE TO WALK (innate ache)

MADE-UP WOMAN NAMED HETTIE HITCHENS (a new place in my made-up worlds called Chuckrock)

TOP SEVENS (pointless lists)

WORK VAN BLOOZE (an ode)

TOO MANY KEYS (more blooze)

FACE TATTOOS (another ode)

ROJONEKKU T-SHIRT (not for real, more an exploration of possibilities)

FIRST UMBRELLA (sad pathetic realities of Raven Mack life)

OUTRO (where I say goodbye)

ROJONEKKU WORD FIGHTING ARTS ISSUE 4

This issue has an intro and outro, like always, but it is the 45s on 33 list from last summer as seen on this website, except two things came together like peanut butter and chocolate: 1) You can’t really write about the actual music online when you are sharing download links because devil ass corporations get jacked up and send you threatening emails which mean nothing so long as you never acknowledge them; and 2) I felt like the three people who subscribe who might actually have read parts of the list on the website as well deserve more than that. So what I did was write a whole shitload more about the actual records, or just more nonsense, probably as much added new as was already there, and there was a shit ton of beautiful nonsense gibberish speaking in tongues the devil’s algorithms can’t understand Raven Mack bullshit in the list already. So it’s a giant compendium of even more nonsense. In fact, I only got to #73 on the list, which is why if you click it on this website now, it stops with #72, because I am deleting them from the cyber version as they appear in zine version. IT’S A BRAVE NEW WORLD, YO.

Anyways, I hope you will consider supporting whatever the fuck it is I do.

t-shirts stencils and speaker

wire - Tesla experiments

in psychic levels of lounge

vine sinew learns intertwined

strength not from education

but from wild inclination

vines intertwining much like

intestines twisting inside

with microscopic knowledge

rojonekku wildbird words

blur into tall grass background

in fields of unconsciousness

Rojonekku Word Fighting Arts zines

I have finally decided to just embrace my chaos brain fully and go back to doing chaos zines because it helps with my illness of the brain. Rojonekku Word Fighting Arts is 8.5x7 40 page digest zine that can sit around somewhere be chill and be read for a while. Here is the shop for this thing: 

Rojonekku WFA shop

Subscriptions are available at that link as well in limited quantities - $30 for four issues in America, $40 for four issues the rest of the world, and honestly it's slightly cheaper perhaps to buy each issue individually, except I don't think I'm always going to make them available online, and I'm contemplating actually making an issue I just burn all the copies other than subscribers because we care too much about keeping and curating everything as if everything matters too much. Once Hand-to-Hand Haiku events start up again, whatever issues I have some left of, they'll only be $5 per copy there. But by subscribing, you guarantee getting yourself a copy, somewhat timely, and you support whatever the fuck it is I do. That might mean something to you, and you're okay with that (which I appreciate); or it might not mean anything at all to you, and I'm fine with that too. I feel good about what I do, and enjoy it being supported, but I also don't really care too much about being hassled about it. I'm not a businessman, not even close. When I feel hassled, I usually burn a bridge or two.

Because of that, I've decided that each issue is limited to an edition of 150. I'll number them in red, because you can't photocopy red, and it reminds me of old Chinese wall hangings. Also, as you can see from the picture below, in the numbering box, I've left room to scribble a haiku. Each copy will have it's own haiku, perhaps tailored to you, I don't know. We'll see. No promises other than there'll be a haiku there. And not one I save to collect later. I just scribble it on there and let it go - that's my signature, a stupid haiku just for you.
Also, in the numbering, there is method to that as well, sort of:

• copies 1 through 3 - saved for the future, not sure what that even means yet because it's not the future yet
• copies 4 through 18 - saved to give to individuals who build creative nonsense beautiful gibberish in the world, who may or may not even know me; I consider this a 10% tithe to the creative nature of the universe I'd like to live in
• copies 19 through ? - starting with #19, they go to the longest subscriber, which means those who were getting One Thousand Feathers roll over to this (at roughly 4 of those to 1 of these, because these are huge); as subscribers fall off, re-subscribers move up in order; eventually I hope all issues are subscribed out and there's a waiting list, but that also is in the future and we're not there yet; but for now, let's just say you can subscribe at the link above but subscriptions are limited to a certain number so that subscription part of the shop may disappear without notice at any point

If you have any questions, hit me up through whatever means you know how to hit me up through. If you want to send scrilla direct without the link usage, perhaps using the gift option in paypal in the way many of us know to do with each other when we are cool about shit like that, my paypal is raven mack at gmail dotcommie.

Final Hand-to-Hand Haiku Showdown of 2014

So this is the end of the second year of this thing, Saturday, November 8, at BON Cafe Wildstyle Spot on South Street about two blocks off the stupid Downtown Mall in Charlottesville. There is a $5 suggested encouraged you might as well cover at the door (capped at $15 per family, if you are bringing family, which you should, because this is family-friendly). There will be a large year-end championship tournament. It says Invitational but I may let anybody compete because I am a practicing chaoticist. Also there will be music by Harli Saxon, an amazing young singer-songwriter from the area. And of course there will be all the normal Raven Mack Rojonekku nonsense gibberish.

I contemplated putting a dagger into the heart of these events, but I have been conjuring spirits by my field rock altar, and envisioning a revamped format for 2015. So we will be back for a new season next calendar year. But, as always (which is not so obvious being this is only the second year), we will take off the winter, horde our haiku nuts for self, sit by the fire wearing fresh pelts so fresh and so clean clean, and prepare both physically and mentally and heartfully for next year. But let's go out with a blast. Let us conjure up and manifest "It". What is "It"? I don't know. I don't even know "I". If I can't know "I" which seems by our language to be the first half of "It", how can I truly know "It", in a way that can define it using the limitation of words? I can't. But we will try to manifest "It" in full and living motherfucking effect, on November 8. Word is bond (as well as bondage).

ADDITIONAL NOTE ABOUT THE COMPETITION ITSELF ON NOVEMBER 8: Competitors are coming from east, north, south, and west. Originally I had envisioned this as an invitation-only competition, but instead it's going to be wide open to whoever wants to compete, though those who have competed and won in the past will be advanced out of preliminary round. You can use any haiku from throughout the year as well, as it's 2014 Championship so to speak, so again, word.

TOP TEN REASONS TO LISTICLE ORACLE UPON DIGITAL SHARDLETS AGAIN

#1: social media/halogen malls like fasebook/so bright so devoid
#2: IRL, I'd skip/rocks along empty creekspots/so why socialize?
#3: empty personal/website like empty backwoods/creek rippling quiet
#4: Rojonekku Word/Fighting Arts spiriting hearts/unconscious word sharts
#5: these are guess haiku/as typecast "haiku dude" yet/revolt against self
#6: screen tentacles sink/into DNA daily/new family tree
#7: you build or destroy/you do both, but take paycheck/for only latter
#8: number one tip for/self-publishing - fuck the world/it will never care
#9: internet machines/made for trimbeard shinefaces/not dirtbags like me
#10: gentrified deep web/with judgmental minds opened/to exact same page

Last Hand-to-Hand Haiku Event of 2013

On the evening of November 21st, we will be having our last Hand-to-Hand Haiku tournament of the calendar year at BON space on South Street in Charlottesville. This first year of public haiku events has been a lot of fun, and I'm packing all the surprises I can into this last one, to make it sort of a year end get-together for anyone who has attended any of them throughout the year. And if the turnout is as good as it was last month, I plan on having both an under-18 and adult tournament at this event.
In addition, I'll be talking my standard Raven Mack speaking-in-tongues gibberish. I'll have some poetry books there for the buying, and also stacks upon stacks of truth-free pamphlets for the having (donations kindly accepted to support the Rojonekku WFA cause). For anyone who's been to one of these in the past, you know already to expect whatever. There are a number of paths any one given event could take, and I try not to hold too tight to the reins. If we go in a different direction than anticipated, that's what we do. You can't control life, just ride that motherfucker out.
Sign-up starts at 7:00 pm, we'll start the jibber-jabber at 7:30, and as always, the event is free. Here is how Hand-to-Hand Haiku tournaments work. If you have any questions, just hit me up at ravenmack at gmail.com.

Rojonekku Word Fighting Arts Calendar of What What

I have a pair of Hand-to-Hand Haiku events upcoming that I guess I should sweep the dust off the website and let you know about, in the off chance anybody actually still peruses the internet in this traditional (relatively speaking) fashion.

Next Thursday, Sept. 19, at BON Coffee on South Street in Charlottesville, we will be having our monthly hoo-ha. Bring yourself. If you want to participate, come along with like 20 or so haiku (or short poems) and throwdown at the hoedown. As usual, part of this event is me - Raven Mack - doing a sort of ramble/read thing testifying upon the Rojonekku Word Fighting Arts. I'm not usually sure what the fuck that means, and honestly what I talk about sometimes comes to me like right before the event. I am open to the universe's suggestions, but try to keep it positive, try to keep it entertaining, and definitely try to keep it empowering. Event is free, but bring a few dollars to get yourself a damn drink and remember to tip the barista.

Also, the following Monday, on Sept. 23, at Gallery Two Three on Main Street in Richmond, we'll be conducting our first Hand-to-Hand Haiku hooha back in RVA, as a benefit for the Richmond Zine Fest 2013. This event runs along the same lines as what I say above - bring yourself, plus haiku if you want to get involved, expect rambling musings from your host, and bring a few dollars to kick in to the Zine Fest because buildings don't rent themselves. I'm excited about coming to Richmond for the first time, as I spent a long ass time living and growing in Richmond, and still love that place a whole fuckin' lot.

Here is a google doc what which explains how the actual Hand-to-Hand Haiku event goes down - GOOGLE DOC EXPLAINING THE THING.

As for me, with regards to writing, or what I talk about, I don't know. Life has been kind of a big fat piece of shit lately, and I haven't had a lot of time to write the things I'd like. I'm also not entirely sure the world needs more writing. I've been enjoying having oral stories and just tweeting gibberish (@SSVa_Raven), though I can't really say I've been "enjoying" anything. Strange times we live in right now, and an overload of written words by thousands maybe millions of individuals who don't really put much thought into their words is sort of overwhelming. There's this belief that somehow with all this information at our hands via the digital revolution, we are allowing ourselves to be more informed and intelligent. I think the opposite might actually be the case, where - much like you can always find a quote from the bible to back up whatever point you're trying to prove - we can always find examples that affirm what we already believe. Thus we've become more insular in our beliefs, more firmly entrenched in what we already assume is true, without any real fresh input to challenge ourselves. Basically, we're cheating natural selection at this point, and minimizing whatever benefit might come from cultural evolution (although of course, this is our evolution; it's just that "evolution" doesn't necessarily mean "for the better").

I would expect me to ramble on that subject in Cville next Thursday, and probably speak on self-publishing in a world that's self-important as fuck in Richmond, but I might have a relapse, spend the weekend in a hotel in Waynesboro getting high with stabbitty types, and have something completely different to talk about. It's a week away. That's a lot of life between here and there still.

Anyways, hope to see your faces and hear your words in real life.

Oh yeah, also worth mentioning if you are within travelling distance of Scottsville, Virginia, on Sept. 29th all afternoon there will be the James River Artisan Festival at the Farmer's Market Pavilion, what which I will be vending my junkyard photographies and haiku railroad spikes as seen at WORKINGMAN ETSY and probably some books too. There is a James River Brewery in town where you can have a couple localized craft beers, enjoy our little town, then go the fuck on home. You can come by my table at the Festival and holler at your boy Raven Mack, too. Like literally holler. I want at least fifty people to come by yelling at me during the course of the day, because I think that would be funny, and make everybody else uncomfortable, but also liven up the atmosphere.

pineal cleanse

Loungers

Mimosa trees grow wild in our back yard, all over, and the ol' lady makes medicine from them. I pick the flowers for the medicine, and last year tuned into which flowers to pick by watching the bees buzz on them motherfuckers. This year, we've had a second late cycle of flowering that's brought tons of butterflies up on this bitch, fluttering around in the mimosa flowers. I took a film of it with our shitty digital camera and then put a Prolo song called "Long Haired Lounger" which is basically just Boogie Brown being Boogie Brown, screwed and chopped.
On my shitty commute to work, there's this old lady who lives at a crossroads and has a sign about how she sews shit if you pay her. I always see her out there spraying Round-Up on shit. Her ditch is a brown wasteland now as is the periphery around rock piles and other dumb shit where she doesn't want "weeds" to grow. It's disgusting, just outright killing off everything. The thing that trips me out about this is if companies are of the mindframe you can just kill off plants that are invasive or deemed as useless or not beneficial, or companies will just blow up a mountain to scrape out the coal, why the fuck are we so naive to think there are people systematically killing off poor motherfuckers? Why is one not to question that the Gates Foundation immunization of a bunch of broke motherfuckers in Third World countries might have less-benevolent goals than just keeping people from disease? I mean shit man, look around you, there's absolutely nothing to show you that man has some sort of high motive for all he does, to benefit man. There's zero proof of that so if you don't question all this shit, you're being naive. It's not paranoid to recognize there's tons of fucked-up shit going on.
And yet the way of the lounger is to not stress on it too badly. You can't change the world, only your life, and even that you can't completely change so much as arrange as best you can according to your own limited power. But you can effect change on your own life, without forcing your bullshit onto everybody else, and I hope you do. And as you gain power over your own life, and start to effect change around you, I hope you will unfuck the world however you can. It's been fucked enough already, so don't try to change it. Everything has already been changed two or three times over. Just try to unfuck it up a little bit.

WEEKLY FRYBREAD: returning to writing

The Football Metaphysics for Enlightened Degenerates book (still available over in the sidebar) did okay, about as I had hoped, maybe a little less, but also highly naïve of me to be the complete contrarian I am and write a book allegedly about football that’s not about football at all really and wonder why A) football fans were afraid of it, and B) people who hate football but follow my site/writings are afraid of it. But that is who I am. The hardest part has been getting back into the swing of things with writing. I absolutely detest the marketing part of shit like that, as I keep abreast of a lot of neurological studies and read shit regularly about neurophilosophy, so pretty much think the entire concept of “marketing” is somewhat based on immoral behavior, should you believe in morals, which I guess I do, though I have no real solid opinion as to what those morals are based on beyond my gut intuition towards what is right and wrong. Fuck science, fuck religion, unfuck the world – that’s what I say. But get back into it slowly is exactly what I’m trying to do this week, and not be completely lull-brained by the enticing siren buzz of social media into crashing my creativity onto the rocks of wasted time. I had planned on a book about everyday lessons around us being the second offering, with a collection of short stories hopefully by the end of the year being my third, but in starting to work on the observational stuff, my Rojonekku Manual came back to the forefront of my mind, and that shit needs to be done. So it shall be done, hopefully before Halloween, as that is the tentative target I am poking into my brain at this moment. However, I’ve also been getting into poetry for whatever reason, except not free-form but strictly rigid structural poetry, as is usual for me since my brain is somehow afflicted with mathematical viruses that cause me to think in numbers and grids and patterns and crap like that. So I started outlining multiple crowns of sonnets related to a 5-trailer trailer park, and am hoping to work up 120 sonnets related to this imaginary trailer park. By making them crowns of sonnets, with a 15th sonnet comprised of the last line of the first 14, and each crown relating to one person in one of the five trailers, and trying to construct a story somewhat through the 8 crowns in the 120 sonnets (good lord, the twisted mathematical literary mind inside my head), I have to sort of work backwards partially, and build it in a completely different way than most poetry is built. But I like that. And I hate most poetry. So it will be done. Also, trying to start finger-peck the Confederate Mack collection together little by little. That’s definitely on the backburner at the moment, but hopefully by spring at the latest I’ll get that dumb shit done. Of course, football season has started officially again, so I am sure I will start doing nonsense gibberish over at Armchair Linebacker like always, including a new thing I started this week where I put up a Redskins-related tanka every morning. That will last for as long as it lasts, which I told myself would be until ten days after their last game is done, but let’s be honest, may be next Tuesday. Additionally, new month’s worth of Krupert songs should show up at some point. I got a nice DMMA notice the other day from mediafire, so I was afraid my entire site would disappear in Orwellian fashion, which it probably will at some point anyways. Remember that. I know most people don’t care, and my site is certainly contradictory to the normal 2012 enjoyment of the interwebs where things are short and pictured and goofy and not-serious and all that hoo-ha. But I am proud of the elaborate labyrinth of nonsense that has slowly been built here, rather than abandon for a new blog or start a tumblr (though I’ve always done those things as well), and there’s a strange thickness you can get lost in at this site. Maybe nobody does this like I do, but I love strange, cryptic websites with large tag pools clustered along a sidebar or at the bottom of the page and after posts and you can click and clack your way through one site’s craziness, getting lost along strange tangents for hours. That is this. In fact, this is the 2100th post on this blog. That’s a lot of nonsense, of which much of it is not nonsense at all, but elaborate wrought-iron prophecy laid out in a purposefully confusing manner. It is like creepy medieval alchemist math, making things you don’t even realize, below your conscious mind. Won’t you please indulge?