people positioned themselves
towards the sun in the past;
now we look for spare chargers
towards the sun in the past;
now we look for spare chargers
Tuesday, January 18
Monday, January 17
SONG OF THE DAY: Monroe's Hornpipe
Reading An Anthropology of Marxism by Cedric J. Robinson while listening to bluegrass music, contemplating "why the fuck?" constantly as the frayed chunks of civilization have larger and larger cracks for so many people I love to be perched precariously close to falling through. Some might already have, but we lost touch, because that's what happens when people fall through cracks. Sigh.
M4K1NG TH31R W4Y, TH3 0NLY...
“making their way, the only
way they know how…” in extreme
yelling Waylon Jennings voice
way they know how…” in extreme
yelling Waylon Jennings voice
Sunday, January 16
SONG OF THE DAY: Noncipher
Do you listen to this dude? I do. He’s got like 5000 albums out under 9 different names. My favorite podcast is just listening to him instead. My second favorite podcast is the clanking whirligigs in the front yard. I don’t have a third favorite podcast because that would be weird as hell. Who the fuck has ever listened to three podcasts before?
L1F3 4LW4YS PR0M1S3S M0R3...
life always promises more -
the universe is a wild
(yet quite orderly) trickster
the universe is a wild
(yet quite orderly) trickster
Saturday, January 15
SONG OF THE DAY: She's Got Papers On Me
This is such a wonderful jam, made all the better by Betty Wright lighting up his ass in the end. Has this new era of open relationships ruined awesome cheating jams like this forever though? I hope not.
MY ST41RW4Y T0 H34V3N G0T...
my stairway to heaven got
mangled before I got to
it; swear I didn’t touch it
mangled before I got to
it; swear I didn’t touch it
Friday, January 14
SONG OF THE DAY: I Betcha Heaven's On a Dirt Road
When I was a kid, I grew up on a dirt road and drank from the garden hose in the summer and if I saved up enough nickels drank a Pepsi from the country store and rode in the back of a pick-up truck and walked barefoot through a yard that wasn’t cut all nice like a cop’s head and I say “yes ma’am” and “nah bro” and “fuck yeah” and I grew up just fine LIKE IF YOU AGREE!
When I was a kid I didn’t wear a seat belt and rode in the back seat on the floorboard as my dad drove drunk home from playing poker at Tip’s house a thousand miles an hour and then my folks split up and my dad and me lived in a trailer and I ate fried duck eggs from the old lady’s farm down the road because her son was in prison and I did chores for the eggs and my dad and me would drive to stash empty beer cans with little bags of weed in them for that dude to stuff up his ass because he was on a road crew and he’d take the weed into jail and live like a king and we got thick sliced baloney from the country market down the road on credit until they cut my dad off because he never paid his tab and we’d have fried duck egg and fried baloney sandwiches for supper five nights out the week because that was all we had and I grew up just fine SHARE IF YOU AGREE!
When I was a kid I couldn’t wait to go away to college and then my dad was briefly kinda homeless but in the country so moved his pop-up camper behind my grandma’s trailer and that’s where he lived even in winter until he started sleeping with this woman that he started staying with regularly and they ended up getting married but she ain’t never really like me and I ain’t like her and then my uncle shot himself in the head the early morning hours before Father’s Day one year telling my grandma and step-grandpa Bob “I love you” in the middle of the night in the trailer before going behind my dad’s pop-up camper and shooting himself so my dad burned the pop-up camper because shouldn’t nobody be staying in it after that and he lived with that other woman the whole time but was never really happy so his drug problems got worse and sometimes we’d talk and he’d say “I think your uncle is gonna visit you” and he’d be right but then he got too lost in the vodka and meth and then he had a stroke and bled out on the bedroom floor before they could get him to a hospital and I ain’t but 48 but he was younger than that when he died and his dad before that was even younger than him when he died and that’s my country paternal lineage but I grew up just fine SHOOT AT THE SKY IF YOU AGREE!
When I was a kid I didn’t wear a seat belt and rode in the back seat on the floorboard as my dad drove drunk home from playing poker at Tip’s house a thousand miles an hour and then my folks split up and my dad and me lived in a trailer and I ate fried duck eggs from the old lady’s farm down the road because her son was in prison and I did chores for the eggs and my dad and me would drive to stash empty beer cans with little bags of weed in them for that dude to stuff up his ass because he was on a road crew and he’d take the weed into jail and live like a king and we got thick sliced baloney from the country market down the road on credit until they cut my dad off because he never paid his tab and we’d have fried duck egg and fried baloney sandwiches for supper five nights out the week because that was all we had and I grew up just fine SHARE IF YOU AGREE!
When I was a kid I couldn’t wait to go away to college and then my dad was briefly kinda homeless but in the country so moved his pop-up camper behind my grandma’s trailer and that’s where he lived even in winter until he started sleeping with this woman that he started staying with regularly and they ended up getting married but she ain’t never really like me and I ain’t like her and then my uncle shot himself in the head the early morning hours before Father’s Day one year telling my grandma and step-grandpa Bob “I love you” in the middle of the night in the trailer before going behind my dad’s pop-up camper and shooting himself so my dad burned the pop-up camper because shouldn’t nobody be staying in it after that and he lived with that other woman the whole time but was never really happy so his drug problems got worse and sometimes we’d talk and he’d say “I think your uncle is gonna visit you” and he’d be right but then he got too lost in the vodka and meth and then he had a stroke and bled out on the bedroom floor before they could get him to a hospital and I ain’t but 48 but he was younger than that when he died and his dad before that was even younger than him when he died and that’s my country paternal lineage but I grew up just fine SHOOT AT THE SKY IF YOU AGREE!
DR34M1NG 4B0VT 4 M0NTH FVLL...
dreaming about a life full
of Sundays where alarm clocks
make irrelevant noises
of Sundays where alarm clocks
make irrelevant noises
Thursday, January 13
JVST 4N0TH3R B4NT4M W31GHT...
just another bantam weight
crowing at the world about
an end which never arrives
crowing at the world about
an end which never arrives
Wednesday, January 12
SONG OF THE DAY: Genius of Love (chopped & screwed)
I belong to a secret society called PurpLife which elevates and reveres the chopped and screwed culture. A high-ranking 69th degree PurpLife Scientist I know well has always said Screw chopping “Genius of Love” was one of his favorite examples of how amazing chopped and screwed music can be. You can find more information about chopped and screwed music, and DJ Screw, by consulting your local library.
JVST FL04T1NG 4L0NG WH1L3 TH3...
just floating along while the
cracks in the world grow larger
and larger… more to fall through
cracks in the world grow larger
and larger… more to fall through
Tuesday, January 11
R3TR34D1NG W4T3R S0 L0NG...
retreading water so long
that I feel guilty now that
I pay all my bills on time
that I feel guilty now that
I pay all my bills on time
Monday, January 10
SONG OF THE DAY: No Scrubs
Somewhere at some point on this American Earth, somebody has been rushing to get ready for work taking care of others in some sort of fringe health care capacity which is simultaneously entirely necessary but disrespected (you know, all those “essential” workers), and they didn’t have any clean scrubs to wear so they went digging through either the laundry pile or maybe there was that chair in the corner of the bedroom where you put the clothes that technically aren’t washing machine clean but really ain’t dirty enough to go in the dirty clothes yet, and they were singing “No Scrubs” loud as fuck, because why the fuck not? Life’s too short to be giving a fuck about all this fake bullshit which just keeps getting shown to be more and more pointless.
Also, I still love T-Boz. Tell her if you see her.
Also, I still love T-Boz. Tell her if you see her.
GR3W ST0R13S L1K3 KVDZV FR0M...
grew stories like kudzu from
a very young age, attempting
to cover up all the holes
a very young age, attempting
to cover up all the holes
Sunday, January 9
L0V3D ST4R1NG 4T TH3 C4LL0VS3D...
loved staring at the calloused
finger pointing at the moon
as much as the moon itself
finger pointing at the moon
as much as the moon itself
Saturday, January 8
Y0V L34RN T0 F1ND C0MF0RT 1N...
you learn to find comfort in
hardscrabble spaces; some folks
was born to pick through rubble
hardscrabble spaces; some folks
was born to pick through rubble
Friday, January 7
SONG OF THE DAY: Temporal Control of Light Echoes
The calendar flipped, and to be honest everything feels as if it’s breaking, slowly. And it’s been breaking, the past couple years more obviously, essentially we were all in a car together as a culture, and the check engine light came on five years ago, maybe longer to be honest, and we were told to ignore it, no worries, but then the past couple years, the car started making a horrible clanking sound, and it’s really worrisome. But we’re speeding along the highway of human progress like everything’s fine, keep it moving. Though a new year according to Gregorian calendars, it’s still the same winter, and the second one since covid came. A smaller parallel is I lost my power this week, and the first night, I was like, “well, it’s cold as fuck, but I’ll bundle up, do a little reading by flashlight, write some thoughts on cards, this is great.” And it was cold as fuck but it was great… everything had shutdown and it felt good to have the break from all the mundane buzzing vibrating bullshit boring holes through my consciousness every moment of every day.
But then the second night came, and it wasn’t even as cold – still below freezing but a good 15 degrees warmer – and I was miserable. It fucking sucked, and I kept waking up in my seven layers, wondering how long before the sun came up, even though it’d still be freezing, I could at least soak up some sun and mark the passing of another night. That’s the second winter of covid to be honest – we are expected to be as back to normal as possible, even though things aren’t full power, and it’s all fucked up, and so many people are so fucking miserable right now, just barely holding their shit together. Makes me wonder what Dark Night of the Soul, Night 2 would’ve been if St. John of the Cross had been forced to go further. Like you get to the end of the dark night of the soul, find your union with the Universe/Creator/God, but then it goes away and you have a second night right away, just as fucked up and melodramatic. Harder to find that hope.
Anyways, back to the original metaphor of the clanking car rumbling full speed down the highway of time called civilization. I find it concerning that it feels as if everything is about to break apart, and nobody who is in charge of driving this thing really seems to give even half a fuck. The whole thing is going to break, and they don’t even seem willing to acknowledge it might be broken, much less able to figure out how to fix it once we are all stranded. And I think that concerns me too – where will I be stranded, or you? Will we make it ‘til it all falls apart in a gnashing of pieces exploding from too much friction, causing the mechanisms of production to destroy itself into a thousand pieces? Will we all be there to stand around the mangled parts and try to figure out how to get it running again? Or figure out a different way to get where we want to go? Or even agree on which way to go? Or will some of us – me, you – be tossed out while it’s falling apart, to lighten the load, because that’s what’s causing the clanking – not the engine itself but the people complaining about the engine clanking? I find it all very concerning and depressing right now to be honest, but also, there’s nothing I can do but continue. Like, there literally ain’t shit I can do about existence except keep existing. But fuck if it doesn’t feel overwhelming right now.
But then the second night came, and it wasn’t even as cold – still below freezing but a good 15 degrees warmer – and I was miserable. It fucking sucked, and I kept waking up in my seven layers, wondering how long before the sun came up, even though it’d still be freezing, I could at least soak up some sun and mark the passing of another night. That’s the second winter of covid to be honest – we are expected to be as back to normal as possible, even though things aren’t full power, and it’s all fucked up, and so many people are so fucking miserable right now, just barely holding their shit together. Makes me wonder what Dark Night of the Soul, Night 2 would’ve been if St. John of the Cross had been forced to go further. Like you get to the end of the dark night of the soul, find your union with the Universe/Creator/God, but then it goes away and you have a second night right away, just as fucked up and melodramatic. Harder to find that hope.
Anyways, back to the original metaphor of the clanking car rumbling full speed down the highway of time called civilization. I find it concerning that it feels as if everything is about to break apart, and nobody who is in charge of driving this thing really seems to give even half a fuck. The whole thing is going to break, and they don’t even seem willing to acknowledge it might be broken, much less able to figure out how to fix it once we are all stranded. And I think that concerns me too – where will I be stranded, or you? Will we make it ‘til it all falls apart in a gnashing of pieces exploding from too much friction, causing the mechanisms of production to destroy itself into a thousand pieces? Will we all be there to stand around the mangled parts and try to figure out how to get it running again? Or figure out a different way to get where we want to go? Or even agree on which way to go? Or will some of us – me, you – be tossed out while it’s falling apart, to lighten the load, because that’s what’s causing the clanking – not the engine itself but the people complaining about the engine clanking? I find it all very concerning and depressing right now to be honest, but also, there’s nothing I can do but continue. Like, there literally ain’t shit I can do about existence except keep existing. But fuck if it doesn’t feel overwhelming right now.
F0LKS 4LW4YS S41D 1 W4S 4N...
folks always said I was an
old soul, but mostly I just
saw way too much too early
old soul, but mostly I just
saw way too much too early
DY1NG L00KS 34SY, DR1FT1NG...
“dying looks easy, drifting
gets harder… I don’t know which
one to do,” that old song sang
gets harder… I don’t know which
one to do,” that old song sang
Monday, January 3
BY L0S1NG MYS3LF 4T TH3...
by losing myself at the
fractured edges, I begin
to find little bits of peace
fractured edges, I begin
to find little bits of peace
Sunday, January 2
R3N0V4T10NS R3QV1R3 FR3SH...
renovations require fresh
abstractions envisioned; I’d
rather demolish desire
abstractions envisioned; I’d
rather demolish desire
Saturday, January 1
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