SONG OF THE DAY: Cuando Vuelves

“I’m Your Puppet” in Spanish is a special kind of banger. This doesn’t appear to exist on 45, at all, which is really disappointing. I guess the market ain’t that fuckin’ free after all.

4T 0VR 3SS3NC3, 34CH B31NG...

at our essence, each being 
just wants to exist freely, 
easily as possible 

0VTL3TS W1TH0VT G4T3K33P3RS...

outlets without gatekeepers 
allow for free expression 
of internal life turmoil 

4T 0VR C0R3, M0ST HVM4NS JVST...

at our core, most humans just 
want to be free to live our 
lives, hopefully happily 

SONG OF THE DAY: My Empty Arms

Been thinking a lot lately on the effects of the internet and social media in poisoning the thinking wells of country folk, and how a lot of rural people are pretty adamant there’s a socialist conspiracy and covid is all a devious master plan, and it’s just absolutely wild to me how country people have lost all sense of compassion, of caring about anything other than themselves. This perverted notion of freedom which claims anything as “a right” excepting whatever you may not agree with (which is just “feelings”) has just completely fucked up people’s collective brains. Country folks ain’t really country no more, because they’re too on facebook, or reddits, or I don’t fuckin’ know to be honest. But it definitely feels like you if you broke down on the side of the road, you’d have a lot more people drive past you looking suspiciously as to what you might be up to, rather than actually stop and offer help. It’s depressing, but it’s also by design. I’d like to assume a lot of people’s great grandmas would be horribly disappointed in the way they carry themselves now, but then again, a lot of people’s great grandmas were racist as fuck.

SONG OF THE DAY: A Change Is Going To Come

Too much thought paralyzes action, as does perfecting the types of thoughts you have. Thoughts are meant to be fucked up sometimes, so nobody has perfectly formulated philosophies. I mean, we can learn how to filter our wild thoughts into publicly acceptable behavior, that doesn’t fuck up other people’s lives, although at the same time there’s plenty of dumbass “free thinkers” who believe they should never filter shit, that First Amendment means you assault rifle all your thoughts out like a mass shooter and if anybody gets hit by something they don’t like, well fuck it, that’s the price of this American brand of freedom. I don’t really feel that way.
I said “feel” instead of “think” because it’s always seemed to me that brain thinks differently than heart. And then as I got older and learned about fermentation and probiotic gut flora and shit like that, gut thinks even differently. They had some study a couple years back where your gut had an idea it sent to your brain before your brain thought it, suggesting free will is not a scientific reality necessarily. Then again, that’s likely not true because we attach will to the brain, not believing the gut or heart has shit to do with it. So I guess it’s not so much too much thought itself paralyzes action but too much brain thought does, or too much disparity between the various places a person thinks in their human body. Your brain says, “let’s do this!” but your gut intuition is like “hold up, bro,” and meanwhile your heart is screaming at you that you’re fucking up. I think with the way we’re living right now, if you’re heart’s not screaming at you a whole lot of the time, then you might’ve been ignoring your heart way too much. I’m actually ignoring mine right now. I always joke that when I die, my heart’s going to be clogged with fried chicken thighs, but it’s more likely going to get seized up by the denial of thought energies flowing outward, that congeal in my chest cavity like soul grease that clogs me to frustrated death.

FR33D0M'S JVST 4N0TH3R W0RD...

 

"freedom's just another word 
for nothing left to lose" tat 
across my pineal gland 

4RM3D M1L1T4NTS GV4RD1NG STR1P...

armed militants guarding strip

malls - performative acts of

American Eagle free dumb

TH3 F4C4D3 0F GR34T FR33D0M...

the facade of great freedom

barely held together by

ungrounded knob and tube wires

SONG OF THE DAY: Northampton's Child

Haven’t been writing as much good quality nonsense gibberish lately because, well, these are strange and terrible times and I have been overcome with dark thoughts of doom. Not fun doom, like walking along train tracks in the moonlight and scribbling barely clever phrases in oil bar, but boring doom, like falling asleep on your secondhand ikea futon in a basement apartment while halfway paying attention to Justified, because you felt like streaming something for a few days, to feel some sense of accomplishment, and you figured fuck it, you’d try this bullshit rural noir show again. I mean how strange and terrible a time is that? I’m willingly watching Justified, and pretending it’s not crap. You know how much of my actual life experience I have to suspend to engage in even that much tolerance? And it’s all so predictable.

This is what I hate about this current era of doom, this technological dystopia we currently find ourselves in, with fascism openly taking the reins of all institutions to usher in a bold new era of Freedom™ brand freedom where you either pull out that MasterCard debit for liberty at the most free chain stores possible, or you can fuck right off… It’s all just so boring, and there’s no torchlit wrestling fights to the death with Ox Baker or giant cockroaches or really great modified late model cars that shoot fireworks everywhere. It’s just laying around on secondhand futons streaming dumb shit waiting to get evicted from your job and rented home by debt collectors eventually as the pyramid scam cuts you off too, and then live underneath a tarp by the creek hoping all you panhandle is dollar bills and not death.

I am trying to channel my mundane doomed feelings into body improvements though. I pulled out the old stick and poke rig to put BORN TOO LOOSE on my leg last night. It’s the little victories that help us survive these dark times.

F33L1NG M0R3 4ND M0R3 L1K3 4...

feeling more and more like a

manipulated number

than free will human being

SONG OF THE DAY: Juice

The melancholy grey of global warmed false spring morning at the truck stop near the interstate diamond exchange, most any rural area America. I’m leaning against my car as the gas pumps automatically, waiting for the pump lock to kick off, watching the crows congregate near the surveillance cameras on top of the other gas station with the McDonald’s attached. The crows are talking their shit, scavenging for cheeseburger wrappers with anything left, and the cameras are just keeping an ever-present eye on everything. The truck stop gas pumps blare pop radio country music, but there’s little dirt inside the sounds. We are living off the watered down juices of free spirited visions right now, everything from concentrate, genetically modified organisms pretending to be freebirds. The empire never trickled all the way down to everybody, but all these empty cheeseburger wrappers have left us plump with the belief we have it all, but there’s no real juice to none of this. It’s all fuckin’ tap water, full of shit and beta blockers, and we passively engage with oxygen intake while moving through the established routines of our day. I’m watching one crow in particular, a bold swaggering rook skip-stepping through the parking lot across the way, and he flaps off to a grass-ish median with what looks like a chunk of a McChicken sandwich, and my gas pump clicks off because it’s full. I squeeze it tight one more time, forcing a little bit more of that watered down nutritionless freedom juice into my car’s gullet, and then drive off into oblivion again. It is Monday, and we’re all fucked, but we keep pretending it’s going to be okay, because we don’t know what else to do. The surveillance cameras know far less than the crows do, but we’ve somehow convinced ourselves of the exact opposite.

D0N'T D1SCVSS P0L1T1CS W1TH DVD3S...

don't discuss politics with dudes

displaying classic cars, not

unless you got two right hands

SONG OF THE DAY: It G Ma

post-colonial identity in collapsing world

once the global borders dissolve and

semi-autonomous zones blossom like dandelions

committing treason upon whiteness

shedding it like snake’s skin

rubbed off between a fissure in the slate

as the grid collapses more and more

off the grid gardens of what’s next

get built

no sharing no soft snitching no socializing media

just getting back to the basics

of life being lived

this is not living

what we are doing now

though we get constant performance reviews

which facilitate the facade

and reinforce the false

but it ain’t living

not like an organic being is meant

to be doing

to be moving

to be walking

to be wandering

physical steps not digital imagined movements

arguing about red blue black white green pills

manufactured pharmacology of belief systems

transplanted thinking

a mind that feels the vibrations of fruiting plants

but it’s only a mechanical simulation

and still I write too many words

inside this grid instead of

out in the wild

ignoring the lesson

of the dandelion

like a goddamned fool

W4LLS 0NLY 3V3R K33P 0VT...

walls only ever keep out

people too weak to think for

themselves (plus also lazies)

T3X4S B34CH PR0P4G4ND4...

Texas Beach propaganda

(if the service is free, then

you have become the product)

S0M3H0W S3LF-3V1D3NT TRVTHS...

somehow self-evident truths

became justification

for a lot of fucked-up shit

GR4FF1T1 1S 1LL3G4L...

graffiti is illegal

here, making America

more East Germany than West

Y0V C4N'T R3SP3CT TH3 P0L1C3...

you can't respect the police

and be true to guerrilla

principles of real freedom

H3R1T4G3 0F SVRR3ND3R...

heritage of surrender,

rebranded as patriots

of rural America