first of all... this has nothing to do with the graphic novel. second of all... i dont hate post modernism. third of all... the term post modernism has been severely abused. fourthly... why did i have to born into the post modern world?
good job paul auster. youve written a novel that is ambiguous enough to generate 8 million interpretations and garnish all kinds of praise and at the same time be uncategorized or unable to be categorized. the only surprising part? oh wait there is nothing surprising.
it cant be categorized: is it detective fiction? is it meta-fiction? is it poorly written? is it masterfully written to appear poorly written? do you have to be high minded to get it? are you an idiot for thinking its pointless? is the meaning hidden? or is the meaning just not there? does it challenge conventions? ignore them? or create new ones? is it a study of authorship? is it tongue in cheek? hmmm... finding yourself unable to answer any of those questions definitively? well clearly the only thing to do is say its so good you would have to be (insert negative categorical descriptor) to want to put it in a box... cuz thats how people who are not in touch with the post modern era must think. to resist it is to resist the asking of questions. and thats what post modernism does right? it asks questions? or does it challenge conventions? no it does that too, right? or does it explore humanistic themes? yeah, sure it does, right? or does it do all of those things? well, it would have to, because post modern things do that. to be post modern you have to question what isness is, right? or is it that to be post modern you have to ask questions without answers? or is it that you have to question the questions to be post modern?
the praise: everyone from professors to students to "regular people" (?) to scholar/model/athletes to the people who say what is and isn't worth praising have all (or at least a lot of them) come to the conclusion that this book is the shiznite. But is it really? So we've established that the book asks a lot of questions both directly and indirectly. check. and thats the end of the checklist. so from the morass of questions we come to conclusions. these conclusions are that its: supremely thought provoking, amazing and unexpected, convention defying, food for the brain, breathes new life into fiction, a pointless exercise in fiction, lays bare the framework of fiction, achieves new awareness, and so on and so forth. so what? anyone can ask a million questions of anything or anyone. children can be thought provoking in their stupidity. defying conventions can and does lead to incoherence. the framework of fiction can be explored in other ways. and on and on we could go. but of course at the same time we could go on and on in a positive way too. we could say the novel exposes the fear that drives convention. we could say the novel edifies through questioning. we could say the novel makes the reader aware of what they once took for granted. so duality == praise worthy. dividing the audience along fundamental lines == praise worthy. or is it that challenging what is traditionally praise worthy == praise worthy? or is it that post modernism == praise worthy? or (it follows) that generating thousands of miles of analytical and argumentative mileage (fodder for critics, prize judges, scholars) == praise worthy to the people that count == praise worthy for everyone else who wants to be counted as a person that counts in a world that is governed by the post modern measuring rod? or is that even enough removes to capture what's going on? or is it praise worthy because it can draw questions like that out of us? does that make it "the shit"? last question here: is it really all that surprising that it has drawn praise? not really. >_<
8 million interpretations: do i really need to describe them? really? well im not going to. just take my word for it... theyre there. see above. read the back cover. combine with post modern definition (wiki it if you have trouble just taking the known definition and flipping it inside out) of reality/individualism/perception/language/whateverelseyouwanttobetickledorfrustratedorchallengedabout. shake vigorously. consume as quickly as possible. vomit it all up. stir for ten minutes. then interpret. therell be no right answer to what you see. youll feel bad for not caring after doing so much work. and then youll feel bad for feeling bad at all. and then youll feel good that you noticed that you felt bad about feeling bad. and then youll feel smart because you recognized that the good feeling was a response to the convention of feeling bad which was a rejection of the initial convention of feeling bad which was a response to the rorschach blob and the convention of seeking meaning. and then youll feel like post modernism is so intriguing because, by feeling smart and recognizing that the good feeling was a response to the bad was a response to the bad was a response to conventions, you've raised yourself to an awareness you didn't have before. from that day forward youll see everything and question everything and becoming a contributing member of post modern society by creating new interpretations of everything. congratulations. give yourself an award, a fellowship, quit your day job, go on a signing tour, shake the right hands, and retire to an edgy artistically rich community, but no so edgy that you have to be near the lesser hands that keep societies wheels greased, and not too rich either, because you have to be post modern now which means you have to raise questions about what wealth is, and you cant do that by obeying conventions. or is it that by obeying conventions your really challenging the convention of challenging conventions? if you're feeling really good about it, kill yourself and leave your wealth to someone undeserving of anything positive, or better yet, leave it to a foundation that will confer it upon later generations of post modernists to forever seal your legacy and legend that the world never really understood your work to begin with.
god damn i am sick of that word. post modernism is a garbage catch all. cant describe it? must be post modern. doesnt fit in its category? must be post modern. different from what came before? must be post modern. unconvetional? no, post modern. raises lots of questions? duh, post modern. muddles boundaries? one word. post-modern-ism. questions the questions? post modern. questions the question's questioning the answers to questions that questioned other questions? post modern. seriously: "?" might as well equal post modern. and what do you think comes after post modernism? post post modernism? questioning the structure of questioning? does the tide really have to swing: formalism > rebellion > anarchy > new formalism> next rebellion > new anarchy? who the fuck can seriously care in the current climate of near unreality?
if you care then you have to question why you care, right? its really getting out of hand. or is it?
i dont hate post modernism as a thing. it was inevitable as a thing. of late it has been horribly abused in its implications, diluted in its meaning, and misused as a metric. just because something can raise questions does not make it praise worthy or a masterfully concocted introspection. just because something can be interpreted 12 different ways does not make it a masterpiece. just because something can dissect forms and fudge boundaries does not make it justified.
but at the end of today, if it means winning fellowships, putting food on my plate, gaining fame and fortune, and retiring a fat bastard carried on the backs of the wheel greasers, guess what kind of writing im going to do? the kind that puts money in my hand, thats what kind. fuck you paul. I couldve written that book.
Clean with alcohol only. Do not attempt to replace blown fuses. Do not remove access panels. Return to certified mechanic for regular maintenance. Made in the USA.
7/28/08
7/21/08
muthafuckinassholes 07/21/08
Subject : MuthaFuckinAssholes
Posted Date: : Jul 21, 2008 8:02 PM
I'm going to get my MFA.
its decided. next fall. not this fall. but the next.
i dont have money now. i cant get a job in the industry i've chosen without my BA. its just an unreal expectation. im going to work at a grocery store. im okay with that! im happy. because im choosing to be.
so fuck you. and fuck me. but not for trying. i dont know where i came under the impression that i would somehow magically break into writing/publishing/editing without putting in time to at least get a BA or an internship first. Actually... i take that back
i came under that impression because i've been at the whole college game for five years now... going on six. ive already put it in a lot of time, and i feel like ive paid some of my dues... some of my maturity debt... but apparently i havent paid enough to the mfa-s that run things.
which kind of sucks... but its what keeps the world turning so i have to do more time on the bottom before i can get a taste of that middle crust. i dont even want a lick of the top yet. im going to get it though.
i wont say if it kills me. not that desparate yet. but im getting there. here's to hoping that my plans don't continue to collapse on themselves. just imagining the rebuilding operation already required of me is enough to give me a headache. im working overtime just to keep the rubble already on site from crushing the life out of what's left- let alone from catching fire again.
oh well...
no song for today... maybe tomorrow.
Posted Date: : Jul 21, 2008 8:02 PM
I'm going to get my MFA.
its decided. next fall. not this fall. but the next.
i dont have money now. i cant get a job in the industry i've chosen without my BA. its just an unreal expectation. im going to work at a grocery store. im okay with that! im happy. because im choosing to be.
so fuck you. and fuck me. but not for trying. i dont know where i came under the impression that i would somehow magically break into writing/publishing/editing without putting in time to at least get a BA or an internship first. Actually... i take that back
i came under that impression because i've been at the whole college game for five years now... going on six. ive already put it in a lot of time, and i feel like ive paid some of my dues... some of my maturity debt... but apparently i havent paid enough to the mfa-s that run things.
which kind of sucks... but its what keeps the world turning so i have to do more time on the bottom before i can get a taste of that middle crust. i dont even want a lick of the top yet. im going to get it though.
i wont say if it kills me. not that desparate yet. but im getting there. here's to hoping that my plans don't continue to collapse on themselves. just imagining the rebuilding operation already required of me is enough to give me a headache. im working overtime just to keep the rubble already on site from crushing the life out of what's left- let alone from catching fire again.
oh well...
no song for today... maybe tomorrow.
7/20/08
notes to self 07/20/08
Subject : notes to self
Posted Date: : Jul 20, 2008 7:48 PM
things not to forget in this late hour:
the arts are still largely the realm of the landed gentry... for those with the liesure time (read ain't gotta work all day everyday for a penny to pay their landlords & lenders) to indulge in the creative work it takes to become successful in a lasting impactful way. of course there are exceptions. classism in america is built on accentuating those exceptions so everyone can feel better about their meddling and dabbling. sure some people work at it for years and make it but they are the mutha f kin minority.
the problem with starting from a now state is that all the reference to the past is lost at the blocks. so retreading, albeit in grand and eye popping fashion to some, is still a retread for the ones that were there before the now. should that matter to the starter? probably not. it might be harder to find fresh ground to break. it might take longer. it might never happen. but then again a lot of things might never happen. so let the critics place the position where ever it may fall and keep walking.
being put in a box. to be feared? flaunted? or simply ignored? should a person be worried that the work they are doing is like the work someone else halfway around the globe is doing and that when held up to the general standard, if there is one (i think there has to be), they might get lumped in with people that are not as great as they think they should be considered? i mean, is c.d. wright an elliptical poet? should someone care if they're considered part of a "school" of thought and action or be concerned when they are left free floating and unaffiliated by anyone to any greater human art project? well, it shouldn't make the project any less worthwhile. but maybe it does...
the problem with education in creative writing is that its taught through emulation. if you don't succeed at emulation you must be failing at understanding where the art has come from. i dont like that. historical orientation should not be the function of- there has to be a better way to learn forms. i agree that you cant break rules till you learn them, but god damn it. for fucks sake.
carnegie mellon was recently praised for its "strict disciplinary structure" that somehow, through the magic of perspective and self righteous justification, unites the woefully disparate schools. i dont agree with that. im an example of what inflexible disciplinary structures can do to anyone who doesnt fit the prototypical student mold. you fail. at all classes. despite your knowledge, despite your growth, despite your ability to demonstrate said knowledge, synthesize your own ideas from said knowledge, and create new ones of your own design, its all for nothing because you missed four classes out of the entire semester. its all for nothing because you changed majors and none of the units transferred. its all for nothing because you had to work a part time job to support yourself and it cut in to your ability to produce a paper that regurgitated information from another paper that had nothing to do with your final project (which you subsequently aced) anyway. f l ustration.
take more notes. i lost two ideas today that held promise because i didnt write them down. thats two things i could have added to my co activated knowledge that now leads to dead end neurons.
get more sleep. lack of sleep is where it all starts... you dont want to be back on pills, do you? no. i dont.
Posted Date: : Jul 20, 2008 7:48 PM
things not to forget in this late hour:
the arts are still largely the realm of the landed gentry... for those with the liesure time (read ain't gotta work all day everyday for a penny to pay their landlords & lenders) to indulge in the creative work it takes to become successful in a lasting impactful way. of course there are exceptions. classism in america is built on accentuating those exceptions so everyone can feel better about their meddling and dabbling. sure some people work at it for years and make it but they are the mutha f kin minority.
the problem with starting from a now state is that all the reference to the past is lost at the blocks. so retreading, albeit in grand and eye popping fashion to some, is still a retread for the ones that were there before the now. should that matter to the starter? probably not. it might be harder to find fresh ground to break. it might take longer. it might never happen. but then again a lot of things might never happen. so let the critics place the position where ever it may fall and keep walking.
being put in a box. to be feared? flaunted? or simply ignored? should a person be worried that the work they are doing is like the work someone else halfway around the globe is doing and that when held up to the general standard, if there is one (i think there has to be), they might get lumped in with people that are not as great as they think they should be considered? i mean, is c.d. wright an elliptical poet? should someone care if they're considered part of a "school" of thought and action or be concerned when they are left free floating and unaffiliated by anyone to any greater human art project? well, it shouldn't make the project any less worthwhile. but maybe it does...
the problem with education in creative writing is that its taught through emulation. if you don't succeed at emulation you must be failing at understanding where the art has come from. i dont like that. historical orientation should not be the function of- there has to be a better way to learn forms. i agree that you cant break rules till you learn them, but god damn it. for fucks sake.
carnegie mellon was recently praised for its "strict disciplinary structure" that somehow, through the magic of perspective and self righteous justification, unites the woefully disparate schools. i dont agree with that. im an example of what inflexible disciplinary structures can do to anyone who doesnt fit the prototypical student mold. you fail. at all classes. despite your knowledge, despite your growth, despite your ability to demonstrate said knowledge, synthesize your own ideas from said knowledge, and create new ones of your own design, its all for nothing because you missed four classes out of the entire semester. its all for nothing because you changed majors and none of the units transferred. its all for nothing because you had to work a part time job to support yourself and it cut in to your ability to produce a paper that regurgitated information from another paper that had nothing to do with your final project (which you subsequently aced) anyway. f l ustration.
take more notes. i lost two ideas today that held promise because i didnt write them down. thats two things i could have added to my co activated knowledge that now leads to dead end neurons.
get more sleep. lack of sleep is where it all starts... you dont want to be back on pills, do you? no. i dont.
7/17/08
sunrise? maybe 07/17/08
Subject : sunrise? maybe
Posted Date: : Jul 17, 2008 3:56 AM
I've been thinking about this entry for quite some time. Not this entry, the one before it. Well the one before and also this one since this entry has everything to do with what came before, in most respects.
I'm not going to degrade the concept of perfect and true happiness. Well actually just in saying that I believe everyone can recognize that there is a difference between perfect happiness and true happiness: the former stemming largely from circumstances and the latter being born exclusively from within the self. What I want to point up is that you are right. Life is not about scrounging for happiness or at least it shouldn't be.
Human's are meant to adapt to their circumstances. Adaptations don't occur in a vacuum. Stimulus is imposed on the static situation of existence and adaptation happens. What happens when the stimulus occurs is what we read as happiness, sadness, pain, insecurity, etc. What we do in respsone, how we adapt is what causes us to change, to remain happy, to lift our spirits, to alleviate pain, to frustrate insecurity etc. No person is static. If they are static then they are in affect dead within... a virtual non-person (as far as im concerned). We are always performing to either maintain our emotional levels against stimulus or to change them.
Life is not /about/ scrounging for happiness. it is about survival over varying spans of time. survival through unremitting waves of stimulus and change. stimulus that may last a moment or that may last decades. change that is destructive or constructive. sometimes it's easier to survive... sometimes it's more difficult.
the sunset moment can be easy for some to survive because it can generate happiness and contentment. but it is also a very short spanning moment. perfect happiness is easy to accept and live in and live through. but to be truly happy in such a short spanning moment one would have to be able to adapt to the stimulus of the coming night... or fall into the possible depression that nightfall may precipitate with the loss of perfect circumstantial happiness.
happiness should not be exogenously determined, but when it is it can be easier to feel true happiness. when life's stimuli are definitively negative it takes a strong sense of self to generate truthful and positive responses to adapt to them.
take me for example. not looking for any pity here, but just for examples sake consider the following:
my stimuli in life are (but are not limited to):
75k of loan debt-
joblessness-
a healthy relationship+
some self esteem+
horrible wardrobe-
satisfying location (chicago)+
hobbies+
and the list goes on. these stimuli act with varying strength over varying spans of time. debt is hugely negative and will haunt me for decades. self esteem is a little positive and comes and goes. i live in a nice city everyday. my interest in hobbies comes and goes. my clothing sucks and i have to face that everyday. and there are other things that come and go for varying spans of time... things like sunsets, a particularyly enjoyable commute to school, a nice long vacation, a visit home, a stubbed toe, a reprimand from a professor that lingers on the mind, etc. All of these things are acting on me from the outside and it is up to me to produce countervailing forces or complimentary forces from within myself to survive the ebb and flow over varying time spans.
so its (in my opinion) correct to say that life isnt about scrounging for happiness, but scrounging for happiness within one's self is a necessary part of human survival and maintenance of the self. if that makes any sense at all.
///mum - "weeping rock" probably the best track on their album summer make good. granted the whole album is a departure from the dream states of their previous work... and that sucks cuz their old stuff was damn good... but i cant fault them for change. who wants to here the same shit 90 times in a row. who even plays songs 90 times these days?
Posted Date: : Jul 17, 2008 3:56 AM
I've been thinking about this entry for quite some time. Not this entry, the one before it. Well the one before and also this one since this entry has everything to do with what came before, in most respects.
I'm not going to degrade the concept of perfect and true happiness. Well actually just in saying that I believe everyone can recognize that there is a difference between perfect happiness and true happiness: the former stemming largely from circumstances and the latter being born exclusively from within the self. What I want to point up is that you are right. Life is not about scrounging for happiness or at least it shouldn't be.
Human's are meant to adapt to their circumstances. Adaptations don't occur in a vacuum. Stimulus is imposed on the static situation of existence and adaptation happens. What happens when the stimulus occurs is what we read as happiness, sadness, pain, insecurity, etc. What we do in respsone, how we adapt is what causes us to change, to remain happy, to lift our spirits, to alleviate pain, to frustrate insecurity etc. No person is static. If they are static then they are in affect dead within... a virtual non-person (as far as im concerned). We are always performing to either maintain our emotional levels against stimulus or to change them.
Life is not /about/ scrounging for happiness. it is about survival over varying spans of time. survival through unremitting waves of stimulus and change. stimulus that may last a moment or that may last decades. change that is destructive or constructive. sometimes it's easier to survive... sometimes it's more difficult.
the sunset moment can be easy for some to survive because it can generate happiness and contentment. but it is also a very short spanning moment. perfect happiness is easy to accept and live in and live through. but to be truly happy in such a short spanning moment one would have to be able to adapt to the stimulus of the coming night... or fall into the possible depression that nightfall may precipitate with the loss of perfect circumstantial happiness.
happiness should not be exogenously determined, but when it is it can be easier to feel true happiness. when life's stimuli are definitively negative it takes a strong sense of self to generate truthful and positive responses to adapt to them.
take me for example. not looking for any pity here, but just for examples sake consider the following:
my stimuli in life are (but are not limited to):
75k of loan debt-
joblessness-
a healthy relationship+
some self esteem+
horrible wardrobe-
satisfying location (chicago)+
hobbies+
and the list goes on. these stimuli act with varying strength over varying spans of time. debt is hugely negative and will haunt me for decades. self esteem is a little positive and comes and goes. i live in a nice city everyday. my interest in hobbies comes and goes. my clothing sucks and i have to face that everyday. and there are other things that come and go for varying spans of time... things like sunsets, a particularyly enjoyable commute to school, a nice long vacation, a visit home, a stubbed toe, a reprimand from a professor that lingers on the mind, etc. All of these things are acting on me from the outside and it is up to me to produce countervailing forces or complimentary forces from within myself to survive the ebb and flow over varying time spans.
so its (in my opinion) correct to say that life isnt about scrounging for happiness, but scrounging for happiness within one's self is a necessary part of human survival and maintenance of the self. if that makes any sense at all.
///mum - "weeping rock" probably the best track on their album summer make good. granted the whole album is a departure from the dream states of their previous work... and that sucks cuz their old stuff was damn good... but i cant fault them for change. who wants to here the same shit 90 times in a row. who even plays songs 90 times these days?
2/24/08
practicing the arts 02/24/08
Subject : practicing the arts
Posted Date: : Mar 24, 2008 9:55 AM
its strange how as you get older you just stop doing certain things. its not so much that im not interested in them anymore. its just that i feel zero compulsion to do them. like playing with g.i. joes or building paper robots. i used to do that all the time but not so much anymore. i think in general i used to be more creative than i am now. i used to write poetry constantly and write stories too. now its starting to become a struggle to practice the arts i do so enjoy. it doesnt help that im medicated now either. i feel much less focused. i mean the medication stops me from feeling other things that i used to feel in the past but it also stops me from feeling the good things that helped me generate ideas for my work. its frustrating. is it more worth it to take the good with the bad or is it more worth it to take niether the good or the bad. how bad does bad have to be before it outweighs the benefits derived from what was so good. i cant remember the last time i went on a writing binge or felt i could focus easily on a task. maybe its time to make some medication adjustments. im really starting to miss the old me.
///bjork - "i see who you are"
I see who you are
Behind the skin
And the muscles
I see who you are, now
And when you get older later
Posted Date: : Mar 24, 2008 9:55 AM
its strange how as you get older you just stop doing certain things. its not so much that im not interested in them anymore. its just that i feel zero compulsion to do them. like playing with g.i. joes or building paper robots. i used to do that all the time but not so much anymore. i think in general i used to be more creative than i am now. i used to write poetry constantly and write stories too. now its starting to become a struggle to practice the arts i do so enjoy. it doesnt help that im medicated now either. i feel much less focused. i mean the medication stops me from feeling other things that i used to feel in the past but it also stops me from feeling the good things that helped me generate ideas for my work. its frustrating. is it more worth it to take the good with the bad or is it more worth it to take niether the good or the bad. how bad does bad have to be before it outweighs the benefits derived from what was so good. i cant remember the last time i went on a writing binge or felt i could focus easily on a task. maybe its time to make some medication adjustments. im really starting to miss the old me.
///bjork - "i see who you are"
I see who you are
Behind the skin
And the muscles
I see who you are, now
And when you get older later
2/11/08
a tribute able 02/11/08
Subject : a tribute able
Posted Date: : Mar 11, 2008 9:11 AM
i scrubbed the floor with comet. and had half a mind to mix a glass for my brother's lunch. why should anyone get all the bragging rights anyway. grades came in this week. and had i half the mind to do so i would have burned. motivation into my two little hands back when it could have meant something. its the kind of thing that makes you. me. want to say its no big deal. but turning life around is not so easy as cleaning up spilled blood.
there's little glamour in cutting. ive realized since this morning. because im still just as miserable as the stain on the floor. or the paper towels. i wrapped my arm with. its hard to believe its only saturday. and loneliness is having no one to miss. me. ive been told my feelings are attributable to chemical imbalances. nothing a little elbow grease can't fix. its no big deal. when there's so much to be done. in other worlds.
get down on your knees. and pray to god for help. maybe everything will work itself out between strokes. nothing to it but to do it. right? the hard part about cleaning tile floor. is that the grout stains easily. something to do with the acids in DNA. people will be waking up soon. invading my world. and me. i am not ready.
Posted Date: : Mar 11, 2008 9:11 AM
i scrubbed the floor with comet. and had half a mind to mix a glass for my brother's lunch. why should anyone get all the bragging rights anyway. grades came in this week. and had i half the mind to do so i would have burned. motivation into my two little hands back when it could have meant something. its the kind of thing that makes you. me. want to say its no big deal. but turning life around is not so easy as cleaning up spilled blood.
there's little glamour in cutting. ive realized since this morning. because im still just as miserable as the stain on the floor. or the paper towels. i wrapped my arm with. its hard to believe its only saturday. and loneliness is having no one to miss. me. ive been told my feelings are attributable to chemical imbalances. nothing a little elbow grease can't fix. its no big deal. when there's so much to be done. in other worlds.
get down on your knees. and pray to god for help. maybe everything will work itself out between strokes. nothing to it but to do it. right? the hard part about cleaning tile floor. is that the grout stains easily. something to do with the acids in DNA. people will be waking up soon. invading my world. and me. i am not ready.
2/10/08
shit is wack 02/10/08
Subject : shit is wack
Posted Date: : Mar 10, 2008 5:27 PM
so im trying to figure out a name for my book that im working on. yes i am working on a book of 300 poems. oh i didnt tell you? hah! thats cuz it was a triple double secret effort that i am only now making public. there will be no illustrations in this book either. i am not an artist. but actually i am trying to be one in a webcomic that i am attempting to kick start with a good friend of mine you might know as the illkahn. but that aside...
im trying to think of a name for my book... something that says: these poems arent necessarily poems, but not theyre not stories either. something that says that what i am about to read will change me, but not necessarily profoundly... maybe just adjust how i see things in the world around me. something that says that what is contained herein is not really political as much as it is introspective... not seriously world opinion as an opinion lost in the world. i was thinking something like forced cadence.... or maybe... quiet down... down time... something with two words is what i am leaning on.
i know that i still want to be an author and i know that i still want to have a masters degree.... im just not sure what i want that masters degree to be in. i am having serious second thoughts about teaching as a career. maybe ill be a professional librarian.... thatll give me time to write and its something i have kind of enjoyed over the years (i work at a library right now). who the fuck knows... not me. that shit is wack. i hate not knowing things. ill keep working though. sorry ive been away for so long. again. hopefully the gaps will get smaller.
Posted Date: : Mar 10, 2008 5:27 PM
so im trying to figure out a name for my book that im working on. yes i am working on a book of 300 poems. oh i didnt tell you? hah! thats cuz it was a triple double secret effort that i am only now making public. there will be no illustrations in this book either. i am not an artist. but actually i am trying to be one in a webcomic that i am attempting to kick start with a good friend of mine you might know as the illkahn. but that aside...
im trying to think of a name for my book... something that says: these poems arent necessarily poems, but not theyre not stories either. something that says that what i am about to read will change me, but not necessarily profoundly... maybe just adjust how i see things in the world around me. something that says that what is contained herein is not really political as much as it is introspective... not seriously world opinion as an opinion lost in the world. i was thinking something like forced cadence.... or maybe... quiet down... down time... something with two words is what i am leaning on.
i know that i still want to be an author and i know that i still want to have a masters degree.... im just not sure what i want that masters degree to be in. i am having serious second thoughts about teaching as a career. maybe ill be a professional librarian.... thatll give me time to write and its something i have kind of enjoyed over the years (i work at a library right now). who the fuck knows... not me. that shit is wack. i hate not knowing things. ill keep working though. sorry ive been away for so long. again. hopefully the gaps will get smaller.
1/6/08
url 01/06/08
Subject : http://pvcpvccpvcccp.blogspot.com/
Posted Date: : Jan 6, 2008 12:52 AM
thats the temporary new address there.
for those thta cant really read here it is again
http://pvcpvccpvcccp.blogspot.com/
so anyway... i find myself here again and what ive realized is that i just cant leave you. i cant. as hard as i try i just cant wholly rip myself away for any length of time because part of me wants to stay here and its apart of me that i cant really deny. i need a place to record the random thoughts that refuse to go away and this is the place. this is the breast that feeds my cortex. god thats gross. but where else am i seriously gonna say that.
///boards of canada - "84 pontiac dream" cuz sometimes when you wanna get away all you really wanna do is take that old bitch of an automobile and wring it out on some new streets.
Posted Date: : Jan 6, 2008 12:52 AM
thats the temporary new address there.
for those thta cant really read here it is again
http://pvcpvccpvcccp.blogspot.com/
so anyway... i find myself here again and what ive realized is that i just cant leave you. i cant. as hard as i try i just cant wholly rip myself away for any length of time because part of me wants to stay here and its apart of me that i cant really deny. i need a place to record the random thoughts that refuse to go away and this is the place. this is the breast that feeds my cortex. god thats gross. but where else am i seriously gonna say that.
///boards of canada - "84 pontiac dream" cuz sometimes when you wanna get away all you really wanna do is take that old bitch of an automobile and wring it out on some new streets.
12/6/07
play is being reviewed 12/06/07
Subject : play is being reviewed
Posted Date: : Dec 6, 2007 8:47 PM
so i slept on the floor this thanksgiving and watched my dad verbally abuse my mother for almost half an hour while everyone including myself laughed awkwardly. that about sizes up thanksgiving for me. its not that i hate my relatives, its that they dont really feel like theyre related to me in anyway besides blood. but all that aside it was nice to see my brother, surprisingly nice. i hope he moves away from nyc soon. nyc turns people into d-bags with no perspective. not that im a d-bag with no perspective but i feel like im far enough away from my own set to be able to know the difference.
but anwyay... im shifting again. and this time im not getting forced out. im leaving myspace for a new project ill be undertaking with illkahn, the one and only, jieren chen. hopefully itll flourish and stimulate more than my own prattlings ons.
as a final word about school... im almost there. i can almost taste victory.... just a week and one more semester and the great out there will become my life. my dreams will start to fall from the sky and turn into my realities and hopefully they'll still strike me as believable, tangible, and worth holding in every way ive imagined them to be. wish me luck, or dont. i dont need luck... all i need is my blackness, my beard, my dreads, and my will to make it happen. hopefully... i might need pepper spray and a shiv too. and gps. and a nasa blanket in case i end up stranded on an island. and a bullet proof vest... just in case. and a lighter. i mean who really knows. but anyway...
... cheers... my next post will probably be my last here for quite some time.
///boards of canada - "peacock tail" like a lucid dream for the ears
Posted Date: : Dec 6, 2007 8:47 PM
so i slept on the floor this thanksgiving and watched my dad verbally abuse my mother for almost half an hour while everyone including myself laughed awkwardly. that about sizes up thanksgiving for me. its not that i hate my relatives, its that they dont really feel like theyre related to me in anyway besides blood. but all that aside it was nice to see my brother, surprisingly nice. i hope he moves away from nyc soon. nyc turns people into d-bags with no perspective. not that im a d-bag with no perspective but i feel like im far enough away from my own set to be able to know the difference.
but anwyay... im shifting again. and this time im not getting forced out. im leaving myspace for a new project ill be undertaking with illkahn, the one and only, jieren chen. hopefully itll flourish and stimulate more than my own prattlings ons.
as a final word about school... im almost there. i can almost taste victory.... just a week and one more semester and the great out there will become my life. my dreams will start to fall from the sky and turn into my realities and hopefully they'll still strike me as believable, tangible, and worth holding in every way ive imagined them to be. wish me luck, or dont. i dont need luck... all i need is my blackness, my beard, my dreads, and my will to make it happen. hopefully... i might need pepper spray and a shiv too. and gps. and a nasa blanket in case i end up stranded on an island. and a bullet proof vest... just in case. and a lighter. i mean who really knows. but anyway...
... cheers... my next post will probably be my last here for quite some time.
///boards of canada - "peacock tail" like a lucid dream for the ears
11/15/07
even jesus had mental problems 11/15/07
Subject : even jesus had mental problems
Posted Date: : Nov 15, 2007 7:47 PM
i mean, come on. with the amount of pressure he was under he would have had to have something coming loose in his all knowing brain. maybe he was ocd. maybe he could only put on his sandals at the same exact time or he would have to spin around five times and do a sommersault backwards before he could attept it again. maybe he was a cutter. maybe he was a total jerk to himself in private. he obviously heard voices... i mean, seriously... was he a fucked up dude with a lot of charisma, or wasn't he?
i know i am kind of screwed up in the head and i also know i have some charisma, but that doesnt make me jesus. that makes me committed again. i got 301'd for the second time in my life. not fun. i was in the lock up for about 9 days, maybe 10 if you count the day they held me in the lobby for observation. it sucked. they take away your clothes, they strip search you, they take away everything of value to you and leave you with nothing but a pair of socks, a frock, and if you're lucky, pants. i had to wait three days for a pair of pants. everytime i go to the mental clink i learn something new about myself though. it was a trip i'd been running from and putting off for quite some time, but now that i've been through it again i can see that from the outset it was bound to happen and should have happend sooner. the last thing i want is to be branded "a threat to the community at large" again.
so what now.... new meds... new outlook... new job hours... new everything. if only life was easy to reset all the time. i've also decided im going to take a year off between bachelors and masters degrees just so that i can bask in having no homework and nothing academic to crack my head open for a while. itll be nice to focus on studying for gre's, learning a language, and planning my eventual escape to spain. thats right. spain. i plan on leaving this country for spain forever because im tired of it hear. i am totally serious. i am so serious i would not bet against myself. i will sware on my mother's eventual grave. thats how serious i am. i am serious sam. and i love spain even though ive never been. i honestly dont feel tied to this country at all. bleh. ah well.
thats it for now. ive explained my absence yet again... one of the themes of my life... and so im out, again. but ill be back to write some more. probably about the quality of life in spain and the general mulletry witnessed there by my girlfriend. also maybe some commentary promoting the mulleted life style in general. it obviously cant be all bad if an entire population of a city does it. right? HAHAHHA wrong jerk face. but seriously. more of that to come.
///the flaming lips - "the W.A.N.D." a tune i discovered in my library after owning it forever. I think i must have acquired it almost two years ago and just never listened to it till i heard it on an HP inspiron commercial. which is embarassing... or funny... i dunno. when you think of yourself as something of a musical afficionado things like that scratch your back in the wrong way, but the end result is a good feeling so you can't complain too much without sounding like a douche. k. bye.
Posted Date: : Nov 15, 2007 7:47 PM
i mean, come on. with the amount of pressure he was under he would have had to have something coming loose in his all knowing brain. maybe he was ocd. maybe he could only put on his sandals at the same exact time or he would have to spin around five times and do a sommersault backwards before he could attept it again. maybe he was a cutter. maybe he was a total jerk to himself in private. he obviously heard voices... i mean, seriously... was he a fucked up dude with a lot of charisma, or wasn't he?
i know i am kind of screwed up in the head and i also know i have some charisma, but that doesnt make me jesus. that makes me committed again. i got 301'd for the second time in my life. not fun. i was in the lock up for about 9 days, maybe 10 if you count the day they held me in the lobby for observation. it sucked. they take away your clothes, they strip search you, they take away everything of value to you and leave you with nothing but a pair of socks, a frock, and if you're lucky, pants. i had to wait three days for a pair of pants. everytime i go to the mental clink i learn something new about myself though. it was a trip i'd been running from and putting off for quite some time, but now that i've been through it again i can see that from the outset it was bound to happen and should have happend sooner. the last thing i want is to be branded "a threat to the community at large" again.
so what now.... new meds... new outlook... new job hours... new everything. if only life was easy to reset all the time. i've also decided im going to take a year off between bachelors and masters degrees just so that i can bask in having no homework and nothing academic to crack my head open for a while. itll be nice to focus on studying for gre's, learning a language, and planning my eventual escape to spain. thats right. spain. i plan on leaving this country for spain forever because im tired of it hear. i am totally serious. i am so serious i would not bet against myself. i will sware on my mother's eventual grave. thats how serious i am. i am serious sam. and i love spain even though ive never been. i honestly dont feel tied to this country at all. bleh. ah well.
thats it for now. ive explained my absence yet again... one of the themes of my life... and so im out, again. but ill be back to write some more. probably about the quality of life in spain and the general mulletry witnessed there by my girlfriend. also maybe some commentary promoting the mulleted life style in general. it obviously cant be all bad if an entire population of a city does it. right? HAHAHHA wrong jerk face. but seriously. more of that to come.
///the flaming lips - "the W.A.N.D." a tune i discovered in my library after owning it forever. I think i must have acquired it almost two years ago and just never listened to it till i heard it on an HP inspiron commercial. which is embarassing... or funny... i dunno. when you think of yourself as something of a musical afficionado things like that scratch your back in the wrong way, but the end result is a good feeling so you can't complain too much without sounding like a douche. k. bye.
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