1 4M STR0NGLY F4M1L14R...

I am strongly familiar 
with knowing the unspoken 
words carry the deepest truths 

SONG OF THE DAY: Paul Revere (kudzu'd)

A big brown spider has built a wonderful web over the top half of the entry to my trash and recycling shed. The doors on that shed been gone since before I moved here, so I usually just wander straight in and out, and got cobweb in my beard a couple of times with early evening drop-offs of shit out there. But eventually, I went out in the day, and saw what had been built, and ever since, I’ve been careful to duck up underneath it when coming or going. I couldn’t build anything that beautiful, so it’d be kinda fucked of me to just keep tearing it down. Spider seems to know what they’re doing pretty well… I studied it all a couple times, from the inside and out. Pretty sweet work.
As far as we know, humans are one of the few species that can have abstract thoughts, although I can’t emphasize the “as far as we know” part enough, because we’re using our brains to study all this shit, so there’s a natural bias involved. But I like to think creative abstractions to recreate the reality we see is the only touch of godliness humans have, albeit a minimal drip drop of it compared to the oceanic expanse of actual All Creation. Nonetheless, I like to think that when we are being creative, it’s weaving our own elaborate web of creation around us. I’ve always been drawn to the type of artists who didn’t necessarily even identify themselves as artists, and everything within their touch was bedazzled by their thinking. Whole home environments, the way things are put up on the walls, the writing they do, photography or painting, how they sow a garden, where the paths in the woods near their house lead to (or follow from)… all of these are pieces of the creative web we build. To my thinking, doing so gives our lives deeper substance, or at least joy, and honestly I can’t really imagine not tinkering with everything around me and everything I do in these ways. I don’t really understand folks who are able to narrow their focus and limit themselves to a singular practice which then becomes their occupation of time and for money. Seems stifling to me.
Regardless of all the art I make, and all the tinkering with my environment in creative ways I do, no matter how long I live, I’ll never weave something as beautiful and intricate and supremely mathematically universally magnetic as that fat brown spider’s giant ass web on the shed. It’s truly amazing. And I know spiders don’t normally live forever, so I guess the giant web on the trash and recycling shed is gonna come to an end at some point. So I’m trying to enjoy it as much as possible. It’s helped me keep the recycling from piling up on the front porch, because I get excited to take it out to the shed.
Anyways, I hadn’t been weaving anything on here for a while. Processes change and systems got broken. But I’ve decided to come back, for some of these songs of the days, but limit them to kudzu’d tracks where I rip the 45s at 33 speed. They get selected for here because I play them a lot on my old iphone that I use as an ipod in the car. Then when I have to write about them here, I make a video, usually downloading some footage from some weird ass source online, tweaking it to be pink/purple, and adding “SOUTHERN GOTHICC FUTURISM” to the screen. There’s actually almost 400 of these videos on my youtube page already, having added them slowly over the past couple years, one by one. That’s part of my web, and just one tiny piece of my full web, but one that takes a lot of sedimentary building of layers… playing the 45s, deciding which ones to rip to mp3, playing the mp3s, deciding which ones to put on here, finding video that may or may not match, editing it, tweaking whatever else. I don’t say all this to act like it’s hugely important, lol. To the contrary, it’s pure fuckin’ nonsense. But it gives my life joy, and adds to the building of the web of Southern Gothicc Futurism.
Of course, it’s online, so like me walking into the shed, it could all get knocked down and be gone one day, without notice. Just some big tech finger wiping the whole thing away. But I can’t live in fear of that. Nor can I slow my world down by backing up and storing and archiving every fuckin’ thing I think to do. Just gotta keep weaving, every day and every way. If somebody admires it, great; if not, no big deal, I had to do it anyways. I’m more like that spider than I realized I guess, alhamdulillah.

SONG OF THE DAY: New Improved Elephants

Hard to imagine improving upon the elephant. I don't think my brain can even get that futuristic. I should microdose harder.

SONG OF THE DAY: La Borrachita

I’ve been yelling “CUMBIA!” at the crows a lot lately. I’m hoping they understand. They usually do. Been feeding them peanuts for a long time now, and they hadn’t been leaving no trinkets as of yet. Starting to think I’m getting hustled by these country ass crows, and only city crows are gump enough to give people trinkets. But I’m hoping maybe these guys just been holding out and will start leaving cumbia records on top of the shed I feed them at.

L1K3 T0 C0NS1D3R MYS3LF...

like to consider myself 
less than domesticated, 
but let’s be real… I’m settled 

S1MPL1C1TY 1S TRVMP C4RD...

simplicity is trump card 
in the natural world - just 
figure out how to survive 

M0R3 S1MPL3-M1ND3D CR34TVR3S...

more simple-minded creatures 
seem to have an easier 
acceptance of existence 

WH1PL3SS R1MS L34N 4G41NST B4CK...

whipless rims lean against back 
porch, reflecting moon’s glint for 
the compost possum at night 

JVST 4N0TH3R B4NT4M W31GHT...

just another bantam weight 
crowing at the world about 
an end which never arrives 

SONG OF THE DAY: Sweet Home Alabama (45s on 33)

Had to explain to another white person that the confederate flag is, in fact, racist to have flying from your pick-up truck at the grocery store parking lot. Even if you grew up in the South, and love the country, and don’t know any better. Not knowing any better doesn’t make something right, unless you’re a frog. Frogs are always right, in everything they do. You should listen to them more. They’re smart enough not to have a website like this. I SHOULD LISTEN TO THEM MORE.

JVST 4N0TH3R S1LLY G00S3...

just another silly goose 
pretending I got it all 
figured out, slicker than shit 

SONG OF THE DAY: Mali Kady

 

Tried to get my shit together today, but it didn’t work. I should’ve picked a smaller task, or broken it up, but nah, I wanted to get the entirety of all my shit together, all at once, today. It didn’t work. My eye hurts now though, and I’ve gotta go to the grocery store, and it’s not warm like last week so I can’t rock it with the windows down. Fuck it, might open the windows, blast the heat, and pump up Luka Productions loud as fuck, stop at the river and sit on a rock until the rock says, “ain’t you supposed to be getting some groceries?” and then go get those groceries. Time it right and they might have an 8-piece of fried chicken marked down for quick sale. Then I’ll ride home and throw the chicken bones out the window, as is the way of my people.

TH3 D0M3ST1C4T10N 0F...

the domestication of

natural spirit, slowly

deferred to life's dirty deeds

HVM4N M1NDS 4LL3G3DLY...

human minds allegedly

advanced, yet always pecking

around at outlandish schemes

W1TH0VT D4RKN3SS, TH3 N30N...

without darkness, the neon

wouldn't draw us in like moths,

attracted to strange escapes

S1TT1NG 1N H0T3L L0BBY...

sitting in hotel lobby,

scratching DIRTGOD into fish

tank glass with rental car key

4NGRY 4N1M4L MVR4L...

angry animal mural

on side of small town butcher

shop - QUIT EATING US YOU BITCH!

SONG OF THE DAY: Your Kiss Stole Me Away

primordial backdrop of amphibian choruses

wandering thru the tended wilds

of southern gothic futures

where junkyard meets curation

but the kudzu is creeping in fast

and the four-lane traffic is out of sight

but a growling air brake can still silence the symphony

of spring peepers and cricket frogs and assorted other toads

but in the middle of this chaotic solitude

sitting on rusting swaying bench

stealing a moment from the world

feeling at peace briefly

and hoping it sows

throughout the rest

of my life

R1PPL3S 1N MY 3X1ST3NC3...

ripples in my existence,

overly attached to right

now, trapped by technology

H0T3L L0BBY F1SH TH1RSTY...

hotel lobby fish thirsty

for attention, true nature

so far gone it's forgotten