SONG OF THE DAY: Turn Down Yo Lights

Raven, an Aquarius. I love long drives at the margins of the declining American Empire, and wearing purple surgical masks when buying fried chicken in gas stations in parts of the country I'm not from. My turn ons are walking through train yards and marking things therein, and my turnoffs are people who think they know, and also cops, who are like the ultimate people who think they know. An ideal supper would be an 8-piece dark meat special, spread out over the course of the night, and probably some ginger brews or maybe orange Perriers or I don't know. I don't drink anymore so liquids aren't nearly as important in distracting me from what's going on as they used to be. Do you have a purple porch light? Holler at me.

SONG OF THE DAY: Goldencity

Dating somebody now so I got suggested music I wouldn’t have suggested to myself because I live in my own filter bubble, which means unless it’s screwed and chopped norteno highlife music, I probably missed it. Filter bubbles seems to be getting worse and worse, everybody climbing deeper into them rather than trying to pop them. Algorithms purposely exploiting them and manufacturing it further, in order to increase digital revenues, which is ultimately how the global electoral system got so fucked in recent years, because the ultimate goal is to get clicks, nothing altruistic. Sprague-Dawley humans will always click the link with the shocking drama or impossible to believe claim that has naked titties in it, over the critically thought one. Lolol and the worst offenders of this shit, the worst exploiters of this, especially on youtube, are dudes who claim to be rational. Oh well, all this shit will break down, we will lose access to the fake clouds, and mushrooms will sprout everywhere. It’ll be okay. And also it won’t.

Sudan Archives is one such suggestion that came from my potna. She’s became a staple of my musical soundtrack, which has been a recurring theme over the years with Stones Throw releases. She’s not actually from Sudan, as far as she is known, but was drawn to the musical styles in a somewhat digital mystical quality, so ran with it. Our ideas of native culture to us, and appropriation vs. influence, and what all that means, is so fucking complex, and I’m not even trying to step into that discussion. But most all of us have had are innate cultural identity decimated historically by the dominant material culture, especially minorities. But really most all of us, even the whites. It’s not like in old ass European times it was a bunch of different clans of “whites” running around. But the dominant culture today is what is seen as white, and we look the part, so the fact all our culture has been bleached away and whitewashed as well, so that we all search for identity in material consumption is pushed aside. And I ain’t really here to beat a drum about it. Basically I’m saying fuck poison culture.

In the actual Sudan, there’s been a public resistance going on for a few months now, against long-standing dictator leader. He was overthrown by a military coup last week, but coverage hasn’t been too prominent, probably because the west is waiting to see what happens. Former President Omar al-Bashir was fucking shit up all over the place in the Sudan, committing genocide in western Sudan and causing a civil war which ended up with South Sudan seceding and becoming its own state. The people want democracy – real democracy, not propped up by intelligence and foreign powers, but who knows what will happen with a military coup, even if the military did arrest most of the upper echelon of corruption last week.

People always have the power to massively resist, and force shitty governments to stop being so shitty. Usually government will end up being shitty again, because humans at individual level are infallible as fuck. I’m a pretty solid dude, but if somebody showed up with $100K cash in front of me right now, I’d do some pretty dehumanizing shit to help escape the feelings of economic personal doom we all live under. Anyways, all this is thoughts on Sudan, and music, and people. The most famous person I knew as a kid from Sudan was Abdullah the Butcher, who actually is a Canadian dude and not a bloodthirsty African madman. He was super entertaining. He ended up running a soul food/Chinese restaurant in Atlanta. All of this is the layers of poison culture, which is still amazing, despite being an unreal culture entirely. Enjoy your life. We all are doomed, and yet also, entirely blessed.

T1ND3R F0R TR33S, T1ND3R F0R...

tinder for trees, tinder for

sunshine, tinder for railroad

tracks, tinder for getting lost

B3N34TH TH3 S4M3 SKY W3 4LL...

beneath the same sky we all

out here trying to connect,

trying to feel half-alive

twitter renga #0318

[twitter renga done one tanka at a time

at my @rojonekku twit acct, monthly] 

failure demons spring
forth from dysfunctional mind
steeped in hopelessness

sown seeds decades, still no fruit;
perhaps my path is poison

the horizon keeps
moving further and further
away; and I'm tired

"sleep is the cousin of death"
cursive letter chest tattoo

futile swiping right
on dating apps for cursive
letter chest tattoos

love women who's making poor
choices at lifetime level

"only god can judge
me" - not even then though, we're
both consensual

priceline express deal hotel
room smelling like feral love

rental car smelling
like fried chicken gizzards from
random country store

contemplating bad tattoos
together - a crow dragon

ended up getting
"CURSIVE WRITING" but done in
old English letters

on my neck line from behind,
can be covered by collar

she got "OLDE ENGLISH"
in cursive writing tattooed
on fleshy left breast

obviously, I'm in love;
guess we'll drive further westward

wild and wonderful
promise of deep southern West
Virginia awaits

let us disappear, and build
fresh chaos, elsewhere, for now

responsible life
has death grip around my throat...
struggling, but choking

the right thing is a shackle
which keeps me in line, like corn

psychic slavery
born from meritocracy
myths sown early on

justice remains a social
construct, never seen in wild

social bankruptcy - 
I declare myself free from
these devils with fire

the smell of burning bridges
makes my dick hard to this day

perhaps not enough
burned bridges to be honest; 
bitches closing in

sulfur keeps fake asses at
psychic arm's length, maybe more

most people fake as
fuck, selfish, yet personal
brand as most righteous

fuck y'all fake motherfuckers
FUCK Y'ALL FAKE MOTHERFUCKERS

no love for dirtgod - 
my natural shine given
nothing but skidmarks

folks who think the world's gone to
shit must be new to losing

laid in hotel room
half the day, afraid to leave,
afraid to still live

went for walk tonight - so much
wealth... where does it all come from?

they've enslaved palm trees
down here, forced into single
file between wide lanes

the grass manicured tightly
as proud cop's shitty haircut

back home, they've enslaved
spirit, planting wild dirtgod
in cubicle bed

or perhaps cubicle grave...
"work sets you free" it's been said

Monday afternoon
just before 2 - first thoughts of
"my job sucks" this week

no progress to be made, just
looping through same old circles

meetings to discuss
meetings where we'll finally
decide what to do

decisions tabled for now
'til further meetings are held

working within this
immense bureaucracy like
building sandcastles

artistic purpose ignored
for "being responsible"

fuck all your fake ass
responsibility fears - 
it's a goddamned lie

my dumb ass gonna be dead
one day, wasted most my life

send psilocybin, 
fat asses in stretch pants, tape
decks banging that Screw

send sunshine and bad tattoos,
please send the Power of Lounge

warm day with promise
of spring, promise of rebirth,
promise of real lounge

this life I'm in feels like trap,
gamecock confined to a cage

domesticated
beyond the abilities
of my genetics

too feral for sitting still,
too wild to not burn bridges

sitting in sedan
air freshener crisp, but hands
smell like gasoline

open the sunroof and let
all fucks given blow away

ya boy the dirtgod
tired of a lotta people's
bullshit fake ass ways

surrounded by these human
facades, pretending they real

the algorithm
ignores "real recognize real"
self-meditations

people think algorithms
are as real as rain today

within limited
scope of this electronic
power gridlock? sure

but there's a much larger world
where data metrics don't help

I'm not no fucking
machine; I'm not no fucking
computer either

perfectly imperfect man,
stumbling through shit existence