three star wars reimaginations from olly moss. outstanding.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Thursday, December 09, 2010
Saturday, November 20, 2010
regardless, zombies have had a huge influence on a lot of people i respect. i have always been intrigued by the dark piece of WHERE and WHAT zombies imply, which is a state of complete chaos, complete 0. post-apocalypse is one way to describe it on a worldly level, but anything, any moment of complete classlessness, complete need to survive based on your skill, your rationale... a grand leveler, and an absolute reset: this is the place that, regardless of source, regardless of cause, and especially regardless of scale, i feel you can really see self-empowerment and the rise of passionate, motivated individuals. right, but be that as it may, zombies have always been a massive subgenre of that setting. pieces like the 28 X Later series, The Walking Dead, Resident Evil, so on and so forth. there's just been something about all zombie fiction that no matter how horrible all of the inbetweens are, if i see something that claims zombies are involved, i at least have to give it a shot. which is what brought me here.
the host, Hamilton apparently, is cool. seems like he knows how to host a show. his voice gets a little obnoxious when he's narrating things for too long at a time or if he starts pronouncing things with the "OH MY GAWWWWD" drawl, but he's pretty funny, keeps it light. my favorite part, honestly, was seeing literally how serious the haitians took this stuff. just as a culture, how much they engulfed themselves in that culture. which is odd, considering when i see those in the more "western religions" get this passionately involved,i call the same dedication ridiculous. but yeah, for that reason MORESO than the zombie portion of that, it ended up seeing. the ceremony towards the beginning? worth it. the reveal of a zombie later on (through the pink door)? ALSO. TOTALLY WORTH IT. it's a little more than an hour long, so it's heavier than a quick youtube toss, but with the interest there and with the right kind of night (i had it bookmarked for about three weeks to a month or so?) it could be a good sit-down.
you learn a bit about puffer fish ingestion too. and they also mention things about scopolamine, something i've linked to a documentary about on this blog (maybe somewhere else?) which is essentially a drug that somewhat hypnotizes the user for hours at a time.
Friday, November 19, 2010
starts @ 6:20.
live performance of 'no one's gonna love you' @ 14:01.
Monday, November 15, 2010
i referred to a reaction i had a couple weeks ago, and it was so unbelievable that i could watch myself generate such a complex hive of emotion, and have the clarity to see through it. to have the vision to not sit within it, and let it conspire and devour me and all i've built up out of myself, some great defining line. i was given some possibility, some fraction of time to experience something that i'd been anticipating for months. and when i was finally given the window of time, the quantified measure of the experience, my first reaction was denial and almost a manner of scoffing. not enough, or not as substantial, or not some endless perpetuation. i'm not sure what the expectation had been. and this was something that i'd made certain to appreciate. a volume put aside for an hour when you get an hour. the kind of thing that i'd pause in any event of escape. the match you let burn your fingers.
sneaking out of your room at night,
just one peak.
i couldn't believe i'd let myself get such a negative view on something i'd allowed to come so calmly. the disheartening was over in an hour or so, once the glow settled in.
the window came, it went just as quickly. the air of it rushed out in a gasp.
i remember the commute home. how many pieces i floated together as, some suspension of quartered gravity. i still feel that force humming me from place to place, the hands of clutter that laid me down once i got home.
i relive the shortest of contact,
[her heavy bags on her shoulders]
a brevity drawn in decimalspeak:
[our coats all buttons and ringing]
so short, there is no ending.
the hangers on hanging on,
nanoscopic for the promise of more.
she is fact
had a conversation with dad today.
never shared those kinds of words before.
the idea might be enough inspiration,
but the funding, no small bit of it.
Wednesday, November 03, 2010
that's why i have to almost shove myself, through convenience or inconvenience, through tact or not, to go see william s. burroughs: a man within when it makes it to the IFC theater in november. it's a must. anyone willing to join, i'm completely down to make this a group effort.
also, i have an idea of what i want to do for my birthday. and i need everyone's participation.
Tuesday, November 02, 2010
also, nanowrimo is on its way. i have no planning, and no outlining, just kind of running with a loose story i have in my head, and a few characters i've had hanging out for a while. so i figured i'd let them have their little stage time now. threw the 'word war' widget on the side bar over there (on the actual blog site for those who just read through RSS). myself, brian, and ernesto are all tracked. if you are participating, let me know. i'd love to buddy you, and also add you to the 'race'. to me, there's definitely not a competition but a brotherhood for it. but either way....
Friday, October 29, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
this is happening. i plan on writing as much as possible within the parentheses of 11/1 and 11/30 though i'm not sure if i'll be able to grind through the 50,000 words. i'm curious to see where i end up. i'm dedicating time to it, though, whenever i can. this month is meant for this. i have a couple of ideas always floating around, and it seems that one of them makes a lot of sense for this project specifically. let's roll.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
this is how you [re]imagine.
rhys has always been dope, but this is why you follow an artist. because when they finally do the project you love with the style that made you get the chills from the moment you saw anything they've done. there's something about an artist finding their voice and running with it without ever looking back that inspires me so far outside my skin, but so far within it. unreal.
more specifically, the photo portion.
i've linked to one collection already, but i think they may have topped it with the one posted yesterday, highlighting urban decay. below are a couple of examples, but how do you choose just one.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
they came by last night around 10, couldn't have been later than 10:15 and dropped off a bunch of cans of red bull, one for each of us. 16oz. and for me, it's proven to be a day-remover. worked the midnight release, drove home, played games til 5 or so. laid down out of necessity. hit the pillows and tried to let monday sail into whatever comes in the umbral dreamscape that then becomes tuesday. nothing. just vibrating and gyrating nerve cells. they're feeling everything. barometric readings from elsewheres. gravity. they're feeling below the bed, pressing up towards the ceiling hoping to discover the hoverways. my brain is still on an REM train. there was no stopping that. it could be all the dreamjournalling i've been doing, but there was no way that a calendar page was going to go by blankly. so i'm thinking about somalian children and the gas and liquid that fills their hungry bellies and if it would be any worse to cut them open (in a dissection manner) than it would be if you were to cut open any other person. would there be a popping or a hissing? all this depressurization talk got me thinking about space and then gold disco balls, but i'm still not getting any closer to sleep.
seven o'clock comes.
i have to move the car.
or it's $40. is it worth it?
is it $40? is it more?
i'll move it.
the sound outside is the kind of sound that only makes sense in city 17. a repetitive loud metallic bang, like God smelting a weapon for a bigger God. and it echoes off of everything, massive or not. it's a sound you'd hunt down if you could find which sound wave is the original. like the hall of mirrors in conan without monster masks. and that guy was RIPPED. and now he's dead. but the sound is everywhere on the streets, and it's everywhere in the stairwell, and laying down again, it's everywhere in the bedroom. and who knows if it ever stopped. has this been there always? or did it even start? is this a retranslated toothache? is this a body no longer able to feel pain, only able to convert it into sound?
[/]cat counts still all have to be done today. or tomorrow. can i do it tomorrow? who works tomorrow? it's not bad. maybe i'll fake it. can't fake it. what's the point. if you're going to fake it, just don't do it. [\]
work at one. which means leaving at noon. where am i going to park thursday night? whole block's parking is shut down because they'll be filming "the sitter". did i see shannyn sassomon the other day? jesus christ, i looked up her imdb profile, and i just need you to read the description of her next movie, man without a head.
fuck, this can't all be real.
i know i lost a moleskine by accident again. i don't know if i lost it in the house or in the world. i have tons of info in there, phone number, this blog address, flickr, twitter... i wonder if there was anything horrifying in there. i wonder if i'd return it to me anyway. and i did get a phone call from a number i don't recognize. just google'd it. and it's up the block from where i work. but i wasn't on
[edit: i forgot to mention that in the early moments of me laying down, i heard a female shout or scream THIS statement outside. which i... i guess i don't see why i didn't even react to it at the time, because wow:
"mercy! chris, please! mercy! you are not god! stop! don't touch me!"
and i continued to inarticulate words screamed as they were down the block. just the female though.
Sunday, October 03, 2010
A LETTER WEST is complete, I have 20 of them to go around. sort of have an idea who is getting them, but I'll expand (or contract) that as it goes. if you read this and are interested, let me know. more than likely, if you read this I have you in mind. but who knows, I've been surprised before. conversely, if you read this and could really care less, let me know. I'll save it for someone else or no one else. no offense, really.
MIX XVII: ONCE THE HOME OF ROCKETS is also done. tracklist method went back to the old school with song artist, title, then blurb of explanation showcasing why I've included it on the cd. last few have gone a more minimalist route (or have had none at all) but a couple requests to bring it back made it easy to oblige. I've always had ideas to get more creative with the presentation of those cds, and the one I tried with the mini CD-R should have been joined with a customer service #. as always, if anyone hearing these mixes enjoys and tracks down just one song or one artist from the collection, I feel accomlished. if you want one and don't feel you're getting one, again, throw me a heads up.
the last project I worked on this weekend was a supplement to the dream journals I've done. just tried to get a bit of a plan together. and now it's just manning up, charging the camera, and executing a tremendous piece, regardless of audience.
I'm often proud of the things I do, regardless of how it's received or by how many. I'm hungry for feedback regardless of who it's from, just so I know where to go and how to make the next bit that I do more enjoyable. I put hours into these things, and it's all to entertain my friends and acquaintances. for free. I'm doing all of this because this is what I want to see come back to me at some point. I want to be handed someone's creative output. It often comes in the form of music in my circle, but I'm always excited to see what else my rotate back.
I'd screw it up anyway.
Saturday, October 02, 2010
-Women in mobile chairs do not like ioannis
-english women don't like rick
-english women are scared of ioannis
-australian girls like rick
-and apparently think he's gay
-ricardo is mildly enjoyed by hookers
-bitchy women are bitches to everyone
-old women ignore ioannis
-100% of men i've met on gamestop tv sleep with people in my district
-english chicks want cock
-olde english men love all of us
-asian women treat rick like godzilla
-ricardo loses money regardless
-girls from guam will more than likely be split into mutliple pieces by ioannis and steve
-ioannis is polite
-who wants to deal with the wheelchair bound smoker
-it's not good to laugh
-looks first, drinks second, personality third
-californians don't get high fives from californians
also, with startling relevance, here is the first video to surface from san antonio, as promised when i first got back.
Friday, October 01, 2010
i just want some time alone. and if that means living alone, then so be it.
i'm kind of begging for it. and in the past couple weeks, i've realized that every girlfriend i've had has lived with me, whether the invitation was there or not, since i've been doing relationships. rarely have i had the calling back and forth, or the so-excited-to-see-you, or any of that business. i've never had to look further than my elbow, really, to find whoever she is. and it's clearly been an issue. i'm at my end now, where i can't even find a moment's peace in dead silence. the proximity of another individual creates a noise of its own. i'm definitely not saying this is okay, or that it's their problem... but i'm saying it needs to be dealt with.
but in this discussion i came to the realization that i'm playing video games MUCH more than i ever have before, mostly because i can't get the quiet i need to read or write or do anything progressive. mindlessly sort of disappearing into these games. i'm not sure if there's a direct relationship to it, but i'm sure it could be written into some study about the affects or reasons for playing games. a whole level of role-play or self-escapism. usually don't give too much merit to these kinds of studies or statements but in this instance, it at least seems to add up.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
found a genuine curiosity and pressing unique to love and only love.
saw the devout and frantic nervous words of trying to capture the mass overthrow of mentality caused by hungry and ravenous hearts. needing and knowing nothing else. not just the visage but the all-around tidal velocity undertow of her.
i kept the other half too. words where i'd see the deception of intent there. forcing effort just to posture them on a platform that was suitable for communication. untrustworthy; vultures swarming.
i'm in neither here,
and i missed my ship.
stockholm syndrome is real.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
mix cd almost done.
dream journal filling fast.
video project to accompany if i can commit.
Friday, September 17, 2010
i threw a girl down the orgasm hole, stared down into it like a biologist. spasms and muscle contractions again. science versus recorded science: proper. my eyes fixed through her energy. you aren't here, you aren't here, you aren't her
scales and scaling.
you walking off and oh god your human shape.
terror of the weather at its coldest and where i'd been a year ago.
when the volume got eroded.
when there was the finale as a curtain emergency.
fingerlightening: your story vs your life.
understood, it was your life or it was me.
it was years you'd built up or years you'd spent.
on a has been.
i told you things i'd told my witnesses
about your stance and the prints you'd
left across my intricates. i knew you.
i failed as this is still a bridge of gasoline:
the flint in museum vacuumed glass, the steel my fingernails.
i'm an approach in recognized delay,
the pendulum held in apexloft.
i mean it:
you tell me go,
Saturday, September 11, 2010
I often have no idea what anyones talking about and thinking back I have no clue how they fill up the silent space. What the stories are describing or who the characters are, or what has stuck. I think about trying to reengage some of them, the ones who are my age range, somewhat within my generation... But there's no venn diagram thats fulled with much more than blood. Movies, tv, music, games, books, any media.. Social appetite dripped down to minimal priority. I got to watch my dad, drunk because he was bored, stand up to flip some burgers, stagger, then smack his head on an air conditioner this past weekend. Mom laughs, "my husband has had a little too much to drink." What the fuck is happening.
Sunday, September 05, 2010
if i can remember to associate it here, i'll post a link to any/all incriminating evidence from that night here (some are below, though these are just tolerable moments).
the first night we were out, we went to this horrible horrible place called "dick's last resort" (this particular location), and were told we were going to eat. instead they paid for a ton of drinks, and let us watch the house band who was decent, but seemed to be manufactured from the sum of dragging some lake. to explain a major part of the restaurant's modus operandi, they try making you feel like shit about yourself blatantly. in fact, an ongoing theme is that they'll make a paper hat for you and write some level of ridiculous quote on it (such as "i miss prison sex!"). the tablecloths are paper, and i had written down a TON of ideas for MY hat, none of which were taken. unfortunately, i ran out of room in front of me and started writing ideas down in a moleskine. i lost the entire thing. it's okay... it was only half full and was only from a couple nights before, the plane ride, and that day. but i can throw some ideas at you:
- my cock is a fortress of solitude.
- why does my mom's birthday remind me of the boy's locker room?
- this is the disney land of cop-a-feelia.
- the last chick i banged looked like lost highway from the waist down.
- the only thing gayer than me is the guy that came in my ass.
each time i offered a hat idea to the staff, they looked at me like i was some kind of foul-mouthed hooligan.
go hard or go home.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Evolution's going outward in branches.
Even the species has species.
I'll be in texas in seven and a half days. I stopped drinking as much as I used to not because I was drinking too much but because others around me were drinking too much. I live so far away from where I work that I get nervous to sleep late because I feel like I'll lose my job so I sleep early and am constantly worrying. I like when people think they look like celebrities they don't look like at all. I am still writing down my dreams as often as I have them but I've stopped writing everything else otherwise. What I've become is a video game playing homebody. I don't even listen to new music anymore. I crossed over into the place I was growing into where NOTHING new is impressing me. It's like having the scabbed veins of junky scum and just as fun to talk to. You know what tomorrow is? Another day less of summer.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
Silence again, still the walking of the wall, the slow reading and picture translation. I hear the grown man reciting titles at what seems like dartboard relevance. "So what're you thinking, buddy?" is the question, and again, the response begins to come, case in hand, title at the ready and the father again warns, "okay. calm down now."
Somewhere in there I missed something drastic, some psychological disrhythmia. Who needs the calming? Is the boy shuddering where I can't see, his eyes rolling in the back of his head? Are his knees jerking and gyrating at an angle I couldn't see? Was he urinating on himself, unable to contain the urges he was subduing vocally? Or is the father here so terrified of his son's genuine interest that any gesture of free will sends the fear of rebellion through him?
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Thursday, July 15, 2010
this was a thought that began at the beginning of a car ride home and expanded into a dialogue with myself for some time. something that got so large i was beginning to figure out the different ways to take it in a blog post. then after finding parking, and walking to the apartment, i've sort of lost my way with it.
it's so unbelievable how far we've come with our heroes and our protagonists. look at superman, this unbeatable God of a humanoid. look at hulk hogan, this all-american, prayer spouting, vitamin taking, unending closet owning world champion. now, we look to the flawed and the humble to garner that immense inspiration. the greeks were really on to something by making their deity structure just as crushing as our social lives.
i'm tired, and i've been sleeping more than i ever have.
Sunday, July 04, 2010
20 JUL 1992
Dear mom and dad, I miss you. Hope you like the tape. I can't wait till you right. My counceler is Dan. I gotta go now so bye! Love, Steve.
24 JUL 1992
Dear parents, [heart]xxoo Eugene sent me a letter and a sticker that said Marines. I got Christine's letter. It is raining right Now. I love righting to you. I have nothing more to say so bye! Love Steve.
24 JUL 1992
Dear mom and dad, did you get my other postcard? I hope so. Today we are going to Arts + Crafts, Drama, Volleyball, Softball and archery. I have to go eat chow so bye.
27 JUL 1992
(front of card has sad face drawn on it with tears rolling down cheeks, and the words DAN DO NOT READ!!)
Dear mom and dad, please come and pick me up. I am lonely. [another sad face with tears rolling down face. this one has hair on it's head, somewhat spiked] love steve. P.S. can't spend another day without you.
28 JUL 1992
xxooxxoo love steve,
Dear mom & dad, aunt olga and erica wrote to me. So did you dad. I love you both. I went boating today. I have to go to dinner now so bye! I also met Chris A. The food is great here. P.S. Don't call me chubba!!! Hee Hee!
29 JUL 1992
Wed. July 29, 1992. I [heart with words love you inside] love you dad!
oooooo. [heart]. [periods actually included]
Dear dad, I miss you sooooo much. I'm sorry for telling you to pick me up early. I was so tired I didn't know what I was doing. I can't wait to see you again. Love steve.
29 JUL 1992
Wed. July 29, 1992
I [heart with the word love inside] you mom!
Dear mom, sorry but I lost my splish splash hat. I feel so bad! Thanks for the nintendo book. I really love it. Don't come and pick me up early. Like I said. Love, steve.
1 AUG 1992
hi! I'm fine. Tusday we went to the boat docks. I went in the padll boats and wen it was time to go in the roboats I hade to go to the bathroom so bad I jumt in the water.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
long story short, my hard drive fell and the USB port physically snapped, breaking any and all possibility of connecting PC --> hard drive until it's repaired.
pretty good news:
my ipod had all of my music on it, and i can use it as a hard drive in the meantime.
+ new dream collection is completed. 17 pages of wtf.
+ the letter project is a couple of steps away from being completed.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
New name is pretty good. Hopefully you'll see a wordcombo of my work opn labels soon. But maybe not.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Went to a bar called Coco 66 which always seems pretty bustling any night and during the day on weekends, but some random nights showcase an event called DUBSTEP which I've heard referenced on a british electro podcast. It essentially transforms the back open dance area into a thunderdome of powerful drum&bass, Prodigy/Dizzy Rascal industrial thudfest. Some of the stuff I heard in there was unbelievable. It had a vibe more similar to live music than a club, and the set was going for hours. I'll definitely be returning. RSVP. -- also worth noting, Dave came with me and our twitters reflected the kind of brain I eroded to. If you follow, I apologize. I also wrote a piece while on the dance floor that you'll be able to read in a collection of poetry/journal entries I'm compiling.
And the new dream journal will be done soon.
I got a new phone. Another blackberry, which is fine. I was happy with the last one, but I watched it shimmy off its last breath[e?]. One thing that hurts is that all of my old memos remain in that phone, and there is some truly memorable stuff in it. I'll probably post them on here at some point. I plan on handwriting them into a notebook soon just to have. Yes, I've tried emailing them to myself by transplanting the old SIM card back into the phone but the emails keep not sending. It's fine, it's not the end of the world. In related news, my browser already stopped responding on this phone, but with a little fuckery, I managed to restore it. Yeah knucklehead.
Coexisting with a female is easy.
Coexisting with THIS is difficult.
I've sort of started to pick up on the fact that maybe I wasn't meant for relationships. I ruin people. I take a good thing and try to rearrange it. I make rubik's cubes out of people. I've always sort of known that I was difficult to deal with, and my reasoning is flawed (utilizing logic to a fault) but when it starts putting pressure where I don't need pressure, I start to need to run and I start to get really atrocious.
Help. I still love Her.
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Friday, March 26, 2010
Laying in bed, i'm still sore from all the moving yesterday. Beetle's here and sick, coughing something terrible, but her spirits are outstanding to a degree. Her things are in my room (and my car, and her car, and the garage) which makes my usual mental check for packing distracting. If i realize i'm missing something i'll be fine. Last night i couldn't even keep my body awake, let alone my mind. Fell asleep at 1230a, woke up at 1015a. Took a shower and she was already emptying the car to take me. Kerry was sleeping and i'm assuming so was Capone (a week old kitten we're trying to rescue; she is an adorable calico).
JFK to Charlotte, departing 12:59p.
Arrived at JFK, US Airways automated self check-in machines are all down, while the attendants stare at a line of potential passengers as if we are clueless in how to operate their touch screen replacements. Get tickets, stand in a security checkpoint line behind a drove of individuals headed to Tokyo. Proceed to retaurant area, choose a place called Boccelli's (instead of the alternative neighbor, Mcdonald's) and get a egg & croissant sandwich w/ OJ for just under $10. As expected, it's alright. Sitting by the gate now, reading Girlfriend In a Coma by Douglas Coupland. Looks like everyone else chose Mcdonald's.
Charlotte to Fort Lauderdale, departing 615p.
On the flight here, sat next to a guy who looked like he'd be fairly good natured. Opened up a conversation right away. The standard where you headed/where am i going decorum. Talked to him about FL for two minutes or so, asked about his trip. His response was, "headed to Charlotte, last stop. Gonna make the hour drive to North Carolina." Shut it down. Read a massive chunk of "...Coma". Two of the most attractive stewardesses i've seen. Started passing out around the time they gave the landing in 25 minutes announcement. Slept through the landing, woke up during taxiing. Kept having nanodreams that people were laughing at me or hissing at their neighbors. Had a dream tourist look me in the face and say "what's up with her?" pointing across my seatmate, into an imaginary third seat that would be located outside the plane. Landed, got out of the plane quicker than any other flight i've ever been on. Used the restroom which smelled of cinnamon, which is actually the legitimate polar opposite of the smell of rotting bodies. Visited a watering hole called A Taste of Carolina and started rolling back a beer called Carolina Blonde which is delicious. Sat at the bar ignoring the Mets/Cardinals game, finishing my book. Another guy around my age was sitting at the corner of the bar drinking what looked like an IPA reading a book called Writing Horror Screenplays. Wanted to talk, but he was buried in the book and his headphones. Heard two businesswomen going nuts about emails and meetings, and they used the phrase "no shit sherlock!" which was amazing. Also, across from me at the gate a woman was playing a DS and shaking her head shamefully at the screen. I start passing out in my seat, certainly drunker onboard than I'd been in the terminal. i'm sure i hear the pilot shout "bleeding, discernably" but this is a fable. I finish Girlfriend In a Coma in my seat (26D) and instantly jump to Nova Express by Burroughs. Pages in, i'm sure i'm in for a ride. An unreal tone. A man putting his luggage into the overhead would look like a shaman with facepaint. But now he looks dead.
Got to Fort Lauderdale airport and was scooped up almost instantly by Dave. Went to Blockbuster to return his movies (including New Moon!!) and rented Ong Bak 2. Grabbed beer, headed to his building after finding illegal parking. Was met in the elevator by a promiscuous woman named Tiffany who was insantly ready to 'find a good time' with either of us. Ate, watched dave harvest planets, drank and passed out watching Ong Bak. Happy hour, pool, Transit Lounge, and Electric Pickle tomorrow night. Double date Saturday night. You can smell the skies turning to formaldehyde.
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