tirsdag, januar 18, 2005

Guitar smashers are lower life-forms.

Well I haven't posted in nearly a month, aside from the vintage draft that I found and clicked into print. So much has been going on. Poisoning, bombing, drowning, swindling, cheapskating on international relief, torture.. All of which are equally worth mention, yet I can't find it in me to be another guy bitching about the same shit that everyone else is bitching about. The same content that will inevitably plague me in repetition throughout the current presidential term and likely my lifetime. I'll kick it off with some foul, uneducated, and passionate English. I swear, the rest of my articles are safe to read to children, but this one happens to be verbal and rant-oriented.

I am severely irritated by musicians that bash their gear. How pretentious is that? Not cool man. Guitars are babies that are to be loved. Drums, eh. To me—More or less unimportant on a spiritual spectrum (compared to guitars). Then again, I'm not a drummer, I might not really understand. Yet still, don't be a prick. Some talented little acoustic dnb playing prodigy is out there with some 100$ tin can set when he could have the glorious set that you just fucked up. and he'll probably give it up because it sounds like a Tyco Playschool Drum-N-Buddy (Made that up. Believable, isn't it.) and he'll think that there's something wrong with the way he's playing—Thus leaving the world short of one more genius' gift.

Also. If you give a shit or not about your guitar because it was made by some limp-dick machine that put no spirit into it—think about the fact that it's made of precious wood that had it's own beauty and character once. Then it unwillingly died for you to smash it, you arrogant bastard. There are a lot of musicians that I respect.. until they smash guitars. Then I just have to say "You know what.. You're a fucking asshole. I'll put your little aural jousts of ego and pseudo-talent into my CD player, but you're an asshole."

Fucking blatant disregard for everything.

Oh, and you little repugnant pieces of slime that destroy acoustic guitars.. There's no hope for you. Anyone who's ever played an acoustic guitar can feel that it loves to be loved. Even the shitty ones. Don't fuck 'em up pal, it breaks my sissy, over-emotionally-objectifying heart. and fuck you assholes who made it a trend to be emotional about everything. You reduced everyone Else's genuine concerns and emotions to mere facets of a fad.

Alright, I'm done. Maybe something worthy of note will come in the following weeks. On a nother note.. My "Inquery into dogmatism and the eternal reward" post has exploded with response. I recommend trying to debunk Mr. MadAnarchist. God knows the rest of them have been fruitfully debunked.

fredag, desember 31, 2004

Disaster.. Relief (?)

The following is a decidedly vintage post that I found as a "draft". Oops.

Circa December, folks.

Ok so, I'm sure my numbers are off, but only inconsequently.Bush donated something like 15 million dollars, and then, only after being scrutinized, added 25 or so to that.. Anyway. Something minescule. Now we're offering 350 Million. Ok, I'll admit, that's better—but I'm still a critic. We spend something like 280mil a day in Iraq killing people (Oops, pardon me, I slipped. I definitely meant "liberating" people), and we barely breech a days worth of killing funds to donate to a place where hell has recently shown it's face on earth? What?

fredag, desember 17, 2004

Viva la existance, and chasing ass.

How preposterous it is to think that we are intelligent. We're only bright enough to question our existance; we don't understand it. We are unable to correctly view ourselves. We are upon the fringe of discovering ourselves via neurosceince—a field that is vastly rendering an accurate view of existance—our existential position within it—and revolutionizing psychology. The fact remains, however, that intelligence isn't to our benefit when it comes to survival. Recognizing through our occipital lobes the objects in our field(s) of vision, and attaching emotion and reaction to these objects with the amygdala and emotional limbic system is to our advantage Etc, etc, etc. I liken the fact that we are without any inherent realistic intelligence to this: If we could will ourselves to orgasm (which, arguably, is physiologically possible].. We wouldn't chase ass. Thus ensuing extinction. Viola. Too much questioning of self, on a macrocosmic level, would only create a bunch of self-important self-fulfilling lazy hairless apes (Wait a second!!). We're not even inherently bright. At best, we form complicated sets of linguistic and metaphoric relationships on a generally communicable level with other humans, but lack the intrinsic ability to question further than the very questions that leave us as blind as we are. I guess the reason I bring this up is because there are so many who hearken abundantly to the ideas of existence, pursuing the facets of existentialism, creating volumes upon volumes of worthless reiteration of the fact that we're silly animals and nothing more. Why do we waste this time? Why not do something progressive about the whole conglomerate of perpetual garbage, pollution, and mindwaste we create in such excess? I just don't see why there isn't movement when movement is so easy.

onsdag, desember 15, 2004

Andy Goldsworthy fan. I love him.

Dye-hard Andy Goldsworthy fan right here. I love him. I am thoroughly touched by the scale and architecture of his organic manipulations. He seems to create without inflicting humanity, human confusion, and suffering on nature which I find to be too often the case with "natural art". When I discovered him I nearly exploded with excitement.. When I was a child I was constantly making art from nature—albeit not to the effect or elaboration of Goldsworthy—Though enough to really feel his implications of impermanence, chaos, and order as a vital continuation of a long-lost facet of both my young and current life, and of the natural world in which I am kept so exceedingly amazed.

If you've had not the pleasure of seeing Andy's work, take a look at some of his work online—or check out the new Andy Goldsworthy documentary titled "Rivers and Tides".

Andy Goldsworthy - Smithsonian
Andy Goldsworthy - Center for Global and Environmental Education
Andy Goldsworthy - Sculpture.org.uk
Andy Goldsworthy - Artcyclopedia
Andy Goldsworthy - arthistory.sbc.edu


søndag, desember 12, 2004

A mere impermanent visitor in the enduring world of nature.

In an overwhelming way, today I absorb that we are achieving so little as a race. I suspect that, before long, personal failure to become submerged in stuporous insentience may very well, out of sheer frustration, lead to the shattering of every nerve in my body. In the event that I am waking, I am reciprocally falling; equally endowed with awareness as am infiltrated with the submission to the prospect of ignorance, and cold nihilism. This is nothing new. No great arcana is the reciprocal fashion in which knowledge comes with it's own increasing burden. Intrinsically this has always comprised my drive, self-worth, and semblance of success; in becoming knowledgeable and liberated from naivety. Degrees of lingering human ego cause the depression that is simply proprietary of ridding ones psyche of comfortable ignorance. As come the good days, come the bad - thus installing today as the rather more unpleasant of the two. Of the facets of this month's culmination of stress, I could easily punctuate a few. Recurring, at that - but namely the ego of man. Our sociopathy as a species - our consumptive and rapacious ways.

Nothing, in my opinion, warrants the level of destruction man imposes on the environment, animal life, and even fellow humanity. As every beautiful individual bird, beast, civilization, tree or fern is forced into the void, the eternal hush, the mere memory - I feel as if an irreparable piece of existance was drawn from us all, as it unequivocally was. I feel nearly as bad for those who are unable for one reason or another, to weigh the importance of the impact - that human beings surmount upon the environment, and eventually themselves - than I do those whom it pains.

So we walk erect? So we plause a few remedial existential inqueries, so what? Does this make us so inherently special that we can rightfully disregard the earth, purloining it of everything that it is rightfully deserved? I am redundantly fed "because we can", and "because we are man", or the further, and more disgustingly inexusable, "because god gave it to us".

tirsdag, desember 07, 2004

An inquery into dogmatism and the eternal reward.

If one lives a kind, compassionate life; Abstaning from causing suffering in any human or animal, even devoting his/her life and resources to alleviating the suffering as much as possible - and God is a truely compassionate god - why would he deny kind and altruistic individuals access to his/her eternal reward, or heaven? Contrarily to Heaven, I assume the concensus is that hell is option number two?

Would a compassionate God really have such a superfluous hangup? Most of the christians I have spoken with assure me that this is God's way.

Faith being the gateway to heaven - not compassion. Does that sound right?

I am very anxious to hear this cleared up, especially from some of you intensely theistic conservative types, as I have always been told that the right to heaven is reserved for those who believe in god by name.

Self-theraputic thoughts.

I wish to live in a rainforest canopy; integrated into the daily animation of undomesticated primal existance to tend to the affairs of my love for botany and nature. I am excessively attention defecit. My focus, in any given instance, is either that of excessive intensity or of the vastly ineffectual overactive fleeting kind. I am virtually unable to see things with any impartiality to either analytical or global mechanics, though am able to coordinate my dual and contrasting observations to some functional degree. I fluctuate between gregariously well-mannered, and antisocial to the point of self-divorce. I am a fan of minimalism, but also fascinated with overcomplication, and the inherent purpose of the superfluous.

I have absolutely no tolerance for people who can't face the fact that they haven't seen everything there is to see. The self-important make me ever so embittered towards humanity, one-by-one. The postulate; incessantly inflicting their unwarranted precocious ideas onto others give me a run for my own patience. Self-appointed to assess the dispotition of others with such surety - and the willing submission of the counterpart. Nearly driving me to insanity, the droves of dogmatic meat-eaters packing their twelve-guage dysmal arguments and haughty chortles over the silliness of having a little compassion for abused animals. I grow quickly impatient with those who think that "hunting" is still hunting when one party has a gun and a GPS (I'd have less problem with hunting if a man chased down and used his bare hands and teeth to tear a deer to it's death). I hate those who have defined their ideals of beauty from not their own experiences and tastes but what has been projected to them through medias who are merely pushing profit-based agendas. I love how the American way is bigger, and better, yet a woman isn't classy unless she's breakable. I love how everything short of completely neo-con is liberal, how everything short of completely homophobic is gay, and how everything short of dumb, skanky and blonde is being a "dyke". Does logic ensue when a man hates a woman for her own inherent masculinity when his own ideals as a cheauvenist are rooted in masculinity itself?

mandag, desember 06, 2004

Make This Retail Holiday Real.

Any and all gifts from myself to others will be handmade this year, as they frequently tend to be. What really sickens me is that not only do people buy instead of make, [yes, I do understand that some of you are completely devoid of the ability to create, rest aside the capability of conscious thought - and for those of you fitting the former or latter descriptions - you are excused] but the general concensus on something homemade is that it is either makeshift, or non-chelant. In some circles, even having not the recources to go around buying everyone a piece of disposable impermanant pleasure [in a plastic shell that will be inspected and catalogued as an artifact by the next "great" race to inhabit Earth in 26.8 million years] (Which is abundantly my standing case) equates to being pitiful; thusly reducing most inherent value. On an initial basis this sort of terrible material consumerism fails to make a whole lot of sense whereas a larger picture reveals it to be the essence of the hominid.

I am aware that some of you aren't half-bad, but most of you. Aye.
Please excuse the sheer bitterness - speaking for most pessimists, we're bitter because we care.

On another note: I hope that everyone takes full advantage of the coming excuses to share their love for those around them, and whom they care about.

fredag, desember 03, 2004

Bush Arrested In Canada For War Crimes.

"Bush received a bruise on his face during the arrest, which some observers have noted resembles a Canadian maple leaf."

President Bush Arrested In Canada For War Crimes.

[world-cnn.com Fake]

Initially, I didn't believe it because the image looks fabricated. Then, I saw that CNN.com had it published for 4 days, and believed it. Then I found it's initial source, Axis Of Logic , and noticed that Bush's hands were too big for his stature, there are minor contrast issuses in his face (which could be light anomalies, but doubtfully) with the rext of the image, and there is no orange reflection on is chin, as there seemingly would be. Apparently, promptly after the satirical embellishment of the original article, Google News republished the fabrication without any disclaimer (or unknowingly) that it was political satire. Oops. There goes Google's public stock.

I'm still a G-Mail fan. : )



torsdag, desember 02, 2004

A Dark American Psyche: Nuclear Iconography.

I find this fascinating. Two artists within the United States could potentially collaborate their artwork to bring about the destruction of entire cities or even the balance in which our government sits in stability (albeit short of optimal) with the rest of the world. One possesses the material, one is a master of delivery.

Our master of delivery:

Gregory Green, a sculptor and well-known artist, comprises the foundation of his work with creations of outright and vividly uncomfortable inquiries into the use of violent and non-violent strategy as means of social and political control. As a contemporary artist, writer, and brilliant modern provocateur, Green poses daunting juxtapositions of public and private information via the use of fully-functional sculptures that he diligently crafts himself. His repertoire includes such anti-authoritarian and wartime weapons as missiles, suitcase bombs, nukes, other various incendiary contrivances, and even LSD. Artwork and information available here.

The man of material:

James L Acord spent a portion of his career devoted to the collection of nuclear material with which he planned to make sculptures. At one point, Acord had acquired the proper permits to legally transport nuclear material over international borders. His artistic endeavors currently rest in suspension due to the impracticality of nuclear art being commercially practicable or unanimously legal.

When such is put to light I again wonder why it is that we are so specifically terrified of seemingly impoverished religious zealots a half of a world away, and why worse hasn't happened thus far?