This Penguin can fly

simulacra cooperative

2011-09-08T21:41:00.000-07:00

by way of solitude and liquor
stained in umber, i've derived a
curious idea, of which my ego
will proclaim is this...original
and worth necessary funding.

a cachet of scenarios,
comprised of willing individuals
generous of time and spirit,
contributing to isolated
simulations that applaud
specific methods,
be it cliche or unordinary,
to elicit an emotional state
for the test protagonist:

for this protagonist,
participants will conduct
themselves in a prescripted
set of behaviors in tandem and fashion,
such that the emotional state
advertised to this protagonist
may be sold,
temporary through variable lengths.

ie: praise

participants cheer for protagonist
in a predetermined set of behaviors,
under focused set of variables.

could call it art
and may be worth investigating

master jellyfish

2011-07-25T20:12:00.000-07:00

i see a sea
and it sees me
it reflects what i see
and it sees what i see
and we never look
because
we see
we

rig o medio

2011-07-25T20:02:00.000-07:00

loiter

half shadowed shoe
born tailspin

baggy eyed spirit
residue

residue

right before the fog
incinerates

clap
wave mesmerize
like
punctured pride pump
and squeak garnish
nickel operated
shoe buffer times
centipede hips thrust

repeat with fabric softener
syphon power cuckoo clock
beneath the iceberg

who tethered ice chains
to the port
might no mercury applaud
impulses pantheon

hiromi euhara trio

2011-06-07T19:45:00.000-07:00

(co narrated by the penguin & the otter pup
on pad and pen off Jack Keruac Avenue)

Spud met Angela at the bar by her school.

He had his high tops on and was lookin'
so, so fly.

Though in her eyes it wasn't the case.
He was twitterpated to see her...
taking notice of her hair, the way
she leaned slightly to the right on her
barstool and how her friends were
well engaged in the conversation.

He felt a twinge of anxiety; but dove
right in. What else can you do in such
a situation? Take a breath, Spud.

They exchanged formalities, which
quickly led to a visit to the bartender.
He ruminated on the comings and goings
of her day, and how it unfolded, if she was
at all thinking of him. Previous to this visit,
he contemplated on how to go about the
evening's maneuvers.

And she was thinking of him, truth be told,
wondering about what he was up to and
what might happen that night. If a vacant
spot appeared on her mind, he was quick
to fill it.

Spaces to fill were holes upon holes of
uncertainty, yet the misery of mystery
was a charm bracelet. Leaves and feathers
fettered and reasons for flight witheld,
her eyes and batting of them and the glare
of the lamp or the streetlight upon them
is all that he desired.

Spud ordered a drink and returned to
Angela's side. They booth took a sip.
Words were hard to come by in the
moment, but they exchanged looks and
mirrored their postures and let the rest of
the crowd became a blur.

And he became sick of this game and
wanted to talk to her now, now....

simon evans coverband

2011-06-06T06:59:00.000-07:00

...charming is the helplessness of someone trying to
express a view of that which is not theirs

gumbo

2011-06-03T17:19:00.000-07:00

to blurt
confessions

allow the snot permission to
agitate the labialis

as the belly sags low
cradled by clipped belt

and breath is spoken clearly
smelling of spit
and cigarettes
and whatever breakfast

a lean so real
so wreckless
and perhaps clumsy

wreckless
gratify
offense
or
flattery
bystanders

epiphany
ephiphony
anythings
commence

for no
negotiations
allowed inside
or dustpans
or apologies

but bystanders
and the moon

hunting jackrabbits

2011-06-03T17:02:00.000-07:00

i'll let him speak to me with
a foreign tongue
so that my awareness is full
to the tone
and not the idea

hence my imagination
will take hold

and i shall absorb
in tones
and light fire

apple pie

2011-06-02T17:13:00.000-07:00

june 1st:

14 smiles offered.
13 smiles returned.
10 female, 3 male.

june 2nd:

23 smiles offered.
21 smiles returned.
13 female, 10 male.

conditions:

the conditions of my offerings were that each
human was supposed to be in default face position.
i only approached those who held no smile,
those who i was in no direct interaction with,
and those who were beyond 30 feet of me.

findings:

when i smiled, they usually held the smile
for a period beyond acknowledgement, and if
the interaction continued, smiles were received
many times after. most men who returned smiles
usually maintained them for only a few seconds.
the women who returned smiles seemed to persist
in a delightful attitude during and after.

conclusion:

smiles = apple pie

boomerang

2011-05-31T20:44:00.000-07:00

i'm embarking on a smile experiment.

i'll smile,
take tallies,
and return with results.

two days worth.

lets see what happens...

seedling

2011-05-30T09:46:00.000-07:00

i'm on my way to the trees
the sea
and wind

and to think that i can even state this
without reason
is such a thought

because it implies my separation

which is unnatural

i yearn to discover if the trees
can hear my thoughts
and share my feelings
because they are so still

and in stillness comes clarity

perhaps they may bend to my inner experience
or in fact
i may bend to theirs

yet
if anything
i would be grateful to feel at least for
a moment
that i can tune in to the pulse of the earth
and the universe
and sever my deep involvement with civilization

so i may appreciate all that is around me
and begin to identify with the idea of

us

we

as not a coexistence of me or i and the beauty
of this world
but instead
a singular i
as in i am the world and the world is i

sky holds the sun

2011-05-29T19:01:00.000-07:00

life, despite your influence on my desire to
keep tender with your close cousin nature,
you've managed to keep a steady pace
on good business in babylon, so
in lieu of this, thank you
so much and i offer
my deepest
gratitude.

wuv,

penguinaut

peach, plum, pear

2011-05-26T18:40:00.000-07:00

what is beautiful...

can be witnessed in a single fleeting moment.

it's unaware of itself
and without ego.

idiosyncracies take recognition.

it is full and complete.
it births immediate sympathy.
it takes you by surprise
and whirls round and round naturally,
flexing its power

to show the truth of humanity in all its raw form
through uninhibited expression

of pain
delight
and everything sincere.

this otterpup

2011-05-24T18:33:00.000-07:00

sliced open my world,

juiced it like an orange spinning clockwise

and i sipped it gently

as my knees began to wobble,

so i tripped and fell

now felt constellations frankenstein

yawning

2011-04-03T15:14:00.000-07:00

perhaps the yearnings of a lonely heart are mislead,
as not the habits to fill it's own hunger with the light of another
but rather to unruffle one's own feathers and reap pleasure
in flight, alone...
might trust that one is already capable and awake
and prepared to feel the wind upon his eyelashes

or lay in stillness for a donation of grace

john cage dinner party disaster

2011-03-10T21:10:00.000-08:00

as i was walking downtown, a familiar scent happened upon my nose...
which got me to ponderin' of the olfactory world.
i believe that there is much potential to refine this sense because to do so
may revive skills lost in the western indoctrination.
as an artist and american, i find that my attention is frequently divided...
a high awareness kinetically and visually, with much neglect to its counterparts,
and i believe it's time to undo this.
i believe my mind is prejudice and ignorant to various scents, and i have a
sneaky suspicion that one can arrive to much information and divinity
if the heart lends itself to the nose.
as such, one may deconstruct others with a higher awareness,
such that of another's temperament, health, and the vibrational frequency of scent
may allude to codes that may be broken with proper training and study.

might other creatures be the wiser?
may our noses lay swath to our deepest desires?
and what of those who smell like "home" to us?

i'm highly tempted to begin this study and conduct experiments,
but perhaps it would be foolish to immerse myself again
and neglect other senses.

call me sunburst and i'll call you wildflower

2011-01-22T19:38:00.000-08:00

staring into space 40%,
madly in love with love,
repelling
deflecting
absorbing energy for instance,
vivid nightmares,
the ideas are strong addictives,
my third eye,
shamans?

revolving doors for infinity

2010-12-24T11:27:00.000-08:00

"Love can never be portrayed

the same way as a tree...
      
..or the sea, or any other mystery.
    
It's the eyes, with which we see.
     
It's the sinner in the saint.
      
It's the light inside the paint."

- Izzy via Tom Tom to Eloise

sun lake rinsed

2010-12-14T21:55:00.000-08:00

blessed to hear the incantations of body and soul

thank you universe

playing the fool better than the mandolin

2010-12-03T10:33:00.000-08:00

i desperately need a time machine.
that or a crash course on the ways
of the armadillo.

kava

2010-11-15T22:36:00.000-08:00

am a buttered loaf,
when better be a buttered slice

the trappings of daydreaming

2010-11-04T23:58:00.000-07:00

are these myths of gold splendor that which the soul professes,

or hand-me-down folk songs about professional souls?

learning the turtle

2010-10-25T10:56:00.000-07:00

..crossed legs

..chin on palm

..gaze on the ground

..ears wrapped around records

..perfecting the imagination

..incense

..ignoring everything else

matters of platypus and chubby checker

2010-10-19T01:34:00.000-07:00

still in question, whether i am operating under biological or spiritual tendencies these days and furthermore, which of the two is chief of operations

oxidized anchors

2010-10-12T00:12:00.000-07:00

easily confounded
is excess stimulation
and a state of internal
leaning or swaying

might be forgotten
the stillness of mind
and sharp awakened
breath
or
fire and flames
and unspoken exuberance

with fireflies

potholes are plantholes

2010-10-04T16:22:00.000-07:00

rather the lilly
which wilts
than a callused rose
for a tenderness
in place
of thorns
and
luxury

allen ginsburgar

2010-09-29T20:47:00.000-07:00

i'm older again.
i hate birthdays.
but hitting reset on the year,
i'm with it.
time to step up but this time,
charging head first screaming
"ayay yay yay ya!!!!"

most of the glacier is under

2010-09-26T23:25:00.000-07:00

i am a true penguin gazing upon the vast oceania
and no matter what i'll keep burning hot

knuckle dragger skills

2010-09-25T10:06:00.000-07:00

the wink is one of the most powerful nonverbal forces
in the navy of face maneuvers

if someone winked at me, my head would fall off

transexual sidewalk bongos

2010-09-24T22:09:00.000-07:00

today....

a crackhead woman was yelling at a homeless man,

who was yelling at a police officer,

who was yelling at me,

who was beating up a parking meter,

who was kidnapping my quarters.

to sit still

2010-09-17T23:03:00.000-07:00

tonight i am a tadpole
lavished with coo's
of candor

yet spells of pond scum
intoxicate my sensibility

for within this familiar pond
lurks thine lilies that
sink in fleeting rapture

the stars,
the moss,
and grasshopper metronomes
replete with whimsical rejoice,
chant incantations

that rollie pollies come to witness,
lovingly humbled
and lulled to sleep

shoes on telephone wires

2010-09-09T10:37:00.000-07:00

autumns around the bend

2010-09-06T22:48:00.000-07:00

one person harmony

2010-09-02T11:28:00.000-07:00

so under the influence of no sleep,
high stress, and low nurishment,
i have unraveled a pocket-full
   of
concerns that include
   and
are not limited to the following:

1. if everyone on this planet
   turned on their electric
   shaver...or toothbrush,
   would it jack this planet off
   it's axis?

2. cats (dudley) reign undefeated at
   staring combats and similar yet
   slightly more important one-on-one
   challenges like "intimidation"
   and "lion impressions"

3. a highly developed acapella scat
   skill

to now is to SHRED and that at everything worth doing

2010-08-22T18:09:00.000-07:00

a thoroughbred idea is a precious auk,
and they're endangered by capitalism...
'cause it can get dead by a commission,
   or the lure of fame, deluded in hopes of immortality

and by way of artists
be it MIND BODY or SOUL,
an idea can lasso hate into a pen
   or
climb into en empty heart
   and
overflow it, FIERCE
as eyes are built to spill

and the latter is what i desperately crave,
for too often found
is an idea
tainted
   by
the american dream.

exist those who scoff at a ship in the bottle,
but
i bubble at the very essence of the contained,
un-sailable ship.
   for
it's meaning,
may be frequencies vibrating enough
beyond the capacities of it's marriage to wind and water

and hence arises a query...

   would one birth a child and sell it?

black cats blushing

2010-06-17T18:16:00.000-07:00

i'm madly in love with the sound of a straw
sucking an almost empty iced cup of root beer

frozen yogurt phenomena = justin beiber obsession

2010-06-17T18:07:00.000-07:00

when i realized there were no such things

as three-legged animals,

my good mood was decapitated.

momentum

2010-06-01T11:21:00.000-07:00

right now it's like Barry Mcgee's treatment of his art, my life's like

a grenade exploding is the slowest animation possible...i know
what's going to happen and i would like for it to climax already

Dolores Park

2010-05-28T02:49:00.000-07:00

REM appetizer

2010-05-28T02:29:00.000-07:00

tres pennies and a ball of lint

2010-05-17T12:55:00.000-07:00

just another nondescript brick in the wall

pocket gutter spelunking
maybe a murdering clown
or a toy boat at the junction

no pearls of wisdom could precipitate from this loitering storm cloud
but i'll elope with my umbrella
and float with miles or etta pon the throat

moo cow in a coma
must mean a rusted copper wiring
or intravenous corn bludgeon
might the synapse be misfiring

perspire rope walking wire
plot thickening the blood
curdling with desire

i'll take a paper route
just so i can throw
the facts at you

set it on fire
just like you
asked me to

with inuits and those of the steppes

2010-04-13T08:01:00.000-07:00

to the tempo of eucalyptus belly dance
and wheat stalk wind undulating

our steps lay swath from field to bluff
until sun beam cheddar clouds agitate

flabbergasting brethren

stillness incubating mind

hummingbird come to observe
a conga passing through our spine

brian bryne david eno staring contest

2010-04-09T19:02:00.000-07:00

paraplegic nickel and dime steam punk
delivering buckets'a'junkyard pedagogy
...
till a pinwheel commences reverse engineering
kid's spunk's cheapest item on the menu

must the ferrymen summon shiny offerings
last a stray pegasus occupation proposition
when today's hail storms the burning bush
id rather cherry pick a constellation
on your end of the galaxy

trust an orphan rubbernecking her delusions
of fleeting communion and memetic rapture
...
i'll agree to hallucinate a tragedy
might a wick be lit in wax
than get vexed by the buoyancy of this fable flattery
to which a faux is a matter of fact

psylopsychic robe

2010-03-21T13:05:00.000-07:00

i will be a magical creature today and abandon all traditional form

six simultaneous selves of thoreau

2010-03-20T15:22:00.000-07:00

artificial emotional intelligencia

2010-03-20T15:20:00.000-07:00

windowlicker

2010-03-20T15:19:00.001-07:00

manufacturing consent

2010-03-20T01:55:00.000-07:00

Cool is the collective hallucination

2010-03-15T09:47:00.000-07:00

Ponzi vs. Dickens

2010-03-06T12:20:00.000-08:00

Capitalism says I can sell this painting in a gallery,

cover of a DVD set of a series of workouts that I could

invent, that deal with the copyrighted maneuvers

involving seven minute toe crunches, elbow presses,

ear swings, or nose flexing.

this is why your fat dot com

2010-02-15T14:21:00.000-08:00

at rare junctures, pathos greets logos with open arms. they bubble, swoon,

and bear offspring. an onlooker observes, then is helplessly compelled

to ruminate on the haste of this decision to procreate, despite the beauty

of miscegenation (historically derogatory term)...and this scrutiny must

not succumb to fallacious misperceptions of general discord with any

"intermixing" of any sort, not even interspecies. without this "tolerance",

it would bewilder those to appreciate the centaur, satyr, and minotaur,

who in various respects can fuck your shit up sans sweat or hesitation.

but...BUT...there is such an idea that is overkill, and that of a most accurate

reciprocation is "whaat thee fuuuuuuck?! cmoon...."

though relatively recent Japanese pursuits in modernity and convenience

would champion the symptoms of hyperbolic hysteria, there is one

INVENTION (emphasis to sarcasm is very limited in type) of the

speculated Qing Dynasty that shames Japan hard. that is the flying

guillotine. this is THE bhodi tree of overkill, the perfect example of pathos

and logos having an unprotected one-night stand.

though... you can't blame someone for, in a fit of passion, wanting to forge

a "creative" and "fancy" way to murder someone, you can make high brow

exceptions because the "why" is always important. if this viking wanted to

look cool and murder with fashion, then the flying guillotine is excessive

and absurd. if he wanted to murder his person in public, create shock value,

and make the murder "say something", then this is the perfect way, because

YOU KNOWWWW if retribution is to be had by someone believing the

only necessary way is by building a flying guillotine, he HAD to have done

something terrible, having to do with the guys puppy or something evil.

if you make someone mad enough to ignore the front door and jump

THROUGH THE CEILING right out of the house, just so they could shave

off seconds between then, and the moment they killed you, that is pure

rage induced by being hardcore wronged. the flying guillotine is virtually

impossible to harness and probably as difficult as maintaining any decorum

after a fareugh (simultaneous fart, sneeze, cough, according to urbanmyths.com).

though the possible good use to a flying guillotine is that it will almost always

certainly determine how mad someone is because i am a firm believer that

if your are mad enough, juuust mad enough, you can do anything you put your mind to.

blueberry oozie umbrella

2010-02-07T14:39:00.000-08:00

often, a tornado fouettes upon the pasteur

and regales with a bounty of earth, machine,

and civilization. yet most salacious to the

boorish cyclone is the farm fowl, who's

feathers, upon encounter, are ravaged and

stripped, leaving the disrobed both vexed

and blushed

Probiotic Hearing Response

2009-12-18T00:30:00.000-08:00

bibio bellybutton lint

2009-12-16T02:05:00.000-08:00

only sometimes do i notice a lingering of

moral high ground if one succumbs to the

trivialities of our time and our surroundings.

the very act is justified not only when the

urge is sought by intrigue but also being

confidently aware of the consequences

webbed within itself. one may say the

dissonance of value against behavior

beckons it's exact negative or counterpart,

whose characteristics reward the preceding

and perceived underbelly of one's action.

spike the punch with lightning

2009-11-21T01:02:00.000-08:00

constructing frankensteins

is like

dance in your room good

barbershop integer

2009-11-10T22:07:00.001-08:00

the boo box if for real

...but what if everyone was required for one day

to dance from point to point wearing buttless chaps?

yoo-hoo is emperor of names

2009-10-30T22:34:00.000-07:00

start it shot out the whale blowhole

wire the ignition and boost a beat

fresh from the boulangerie

spread word speak upon butter breeze

float the chorus between the crevice

absorb the orb to inner amber glow

raw tendency gear box blunder

booaaaii the rasta said me bredren

one dread one pocket mon

chain spitting

2009-10-25T23:46:00.000-07:00

look beyond and unload

the moon lit between the tree leaves

and a pogo stick

humping the american dream

sever the scheme into pumpkin pie slices

and skip the months rent

throw the die on molded canvas

eyeball gunfight

my magic utter's spent

arnold palmer squirt guns

2009-10-25T00:19:00.001-07:00

impossible mission

fizzlin the seltzer

tactics a'brewin

mind cauldron clashing visions

and bludgeon a private eye monocle

till the shards fall

and reflect a voodoo bone position

cackling crow spies a dancing caterpillar

fumbling autistic genius accidents

dogfighting above the clouds

like butterfly navigation system plush

peanut butter and banana style

a shy monster

2009-10-24T21:33:00.000-07:00

Ugggggh...uggghhh....this song fucks me up sooooooooooo good

that it makes me cry and want to become love if thats even possible!!!!

I want to have a deep affair with this and cradle it forever.

em eeh oh speedwagon

2009-10-23T21:44:00.000-07:00

gargling pacifism despite a tongue bite
and rattle the cage

in ant macros
mind be milling babylon affliction
sucker fable anecdotes and
marginal shredding fantasy non sequiturs
like distorted transmission distress signals
and steven hawking chorus echo dissonance

tumbling keyhole pocket picker
mouth vacuum a trail'a breadbrumbs
guised in minefield guerilla pessimists
ill contained in a cage
you stay numb

bullriding a dervish

2009-10-22T01:57:00.000-07:00

capture the day's rapture with a butterfly net
retracing pavement editing the record

via dream supply depot and ink
and secret machines

hyper evolved sentry prism
fleeting laser beams under half moon coat hanger

sing my viking victory sonnet
and buzz buzz swoon under el monsoon

baby robot sputnick

2009-10-08T21:51:00.000-07:00

a trooper trumpet dance
moonlit dervish rumbling up a gale
wishing well whale blowhole
rooster sauce solo on ceramic plate
stuttering putty plaster mask
caped villain stomach rumble captivate
basking fern love ray
babbletron of pigeon song
time rip from a cosmic gong

shredding in pantone

2009-10-06T21:49:00.000-07:00

be it
the cricket
that fought the posing praying mantis
or the honeybee
flung fierce upon the gravity
embellishing the radish sings
cherry belle blush a dangaling
empty pocket
empty mockingbird cage
still rocking on the swing
sage howling autumn
upside down bloom
melanin summer heirloom
with coriander seed spells
sabatoge the static feed
gel free lion's mane
sugar free lucid dream

dragon loose upon the karaoke bar

2009-09-24T19:54:00.000-07:00

~solo planet cipher of the herbal etta persuasion~

a lover's kiss be the stamp
send it via hawk
send it via spock
scotty beam it
between the eyes
dionysus spies
lurking in the cirrus and the nimbus
in the ribbons in his kite
shiny quarter for the mints
one milkshake and two straws
probably cause
his sled pulled by dogs
to her face
while mine needs gauze
they yell timber
castle crushed
cosmic jellyfish calling her bluff
ref sees stars
kid's had enough
ruff and tumble
windows barred
is it worth collecting scars

russian roulette

2009-09-23T00:43:00.000-07:00

sometimes questions force themselves into awkward encounters
like medieval bulgarian battering rams
and like battering rams,
access is gained into a space
which is otherwise intently protected
in a stonewalled castle

some ancients and eastern customs
withhold the practice of posing questions
because of the belief that
questions are the unholy offspring
of greed, impatience,
or refusal to listen

maybe questions are conducive to these beliefs

there is too much pepper on my paprikash

2009-09-14T21:57:00.000-07:00

holy shit man people are getting married! i know these people!
thats like unexpectedly hitting a checkpoint, which makes you think dang,
i've distilled for some time now, and the riping process is constant...

"never run away from the time police!!
you will not survive"!!!!! --->you gotta sing that real baroque

so that shoved me onto this rollercoaster during my meditation
and i was listening to the strokes
and plucking the guitar
made of glass
made me fantasize
via delorean
at the bar i'm playing a set
and that superb song
with the screams
make your face scrunch ambitiously
so my old rhetoric professor enters
and i dedicated it her into the mic
"professor H this song i built for you
just in case you walked in"
and everyone boos, madness
at that gorgonzola shit
and every lick thereafter
strung along a joke
half truth half ostrich in the dirt sing speak
"professor H, my secret's terminated
linda hamilton
golden lady
i'd like to go theeeeerrre"
then i chase my professor
out the bar but she drops a piece of paper
and i call her back
but she says keep it
and we are to go dancing at this spot
and on the linoleum
we may cripwalk or
go skanking
but instead i do the pop, pop, poppin'
and her robot is convincing
i get a C on the midterm

this is my shadow, sylvester...how do you do

2009-09-02T14:31:00.000-07:00

if intercepting correspondence unintended for my eyes is evil,
then you may summon me as Dick, Bush, or the immensely underrated
Hu Jintao...

...the following authors are recipients of an extended welcome
to my club called friend

amber

2009-08-16T13:17:00.001-07:00

the sun is an unceasing artist. values are exposed with a shout or otherwise gently adorned. why then does the spectrum divide? how are colors essential to the existence of a pine cone or lavender? it is widely understood that wavelength vs. light energy that is imposed upon human photoreceptor cells, place upon our perceptions a color. wonderful! however, how have i been so careless as to mystify my relationship with them? it is because i have allowed my conditioning and socialization to take reign on commonwealth metaphors. it is trying to renounce such babylonian associative behavior but to do so may present a bond of mighty fidelity. perhaps in the quest for such unraveling one may begin deep admiration of quiet and wondrous ecosystems and it's inhabitants....the lilly and the ladybug. perhaps one may find a new understanding of colors and that basic symbolism is an impossibility with each one. i surmise that division of colors will only lead to false answers or lack therof. then we may presume that the idea of synergy and unity pay great respect to the true magic of colors and it's glow may be witnessed in sublime undulations for those who behold with sincere curiosity.

leave the dust on the record

2009-08-14T13:50:00.000-07:00

Styles are getting worse.
The older styles exude an unspoken class.
Out with the new, in with the old.

opposing forces are drawn together by equal behavior and circumstance

2009-08-06T10:07:00.000-07:00

he fights everything head on and at full speed. oh how they grow so quickly. where may one find the reverse switch?

welcome sir dudley the titan from jupiter

2009-06-21T15:58:00.000-07:00

I have acquired a new member into my clan. He is Sir Dudley of Jupiter. He is 6 weeks strong. He fashions a reverse tuxedo. He is a skilled hunter and possesses the strength of a goliath. He does not sleep, but waits for the next encounter. He is currently leveling up his fighting techniques and will soon champion the rank of general. I love him already.

cadbury misfire

2009-06-13T00:09:00.000-07:00

how bout that dream machine,
and the rain gently laying its cheek
upon the sun's lap

or the mother pushing her kids in the shopping cart
pulling back and pushing forth on the speed bumps,
taking turns laughing

him over there on the wheelchair
racing down the parking lot
growling up a speed limit

and a hunchback from taipei
with a crossed wrist following him
while the world is played again

and ashy knees under overalls,
velcro or bunny rabbit
with a sugar stain just left of the lip

nano-pathogens

2009-06-10T22:50:00.000-07:00

on creative passes:

capitalism is cunning.
it is the wiser and it is always twisting its mustache, hatching a plan.
it is a redneck coaxing the rabbit out of its hole
awaiting at the entrance with cruel intentions.
capitalism is a teenage harlot
that wants to fuck you tonight
and sneak out with your wallet while you're asleep dreaming about her.
it is persistent,
and will intimidate your ambition.
it will strike upon you as the sun upon a rooster atop a bluff,
drowning the dark with effulgent fiction
capitalism is the bell before a vaudeville boxing match,
and the dames segueing the next round.
capitalism is a parasite domesticating itself
in your portfolio like a kitschy ornament,
adapting, learning, and acting a chameleon.

（ ´_ゝ`)__Duck and cover ~~~

hark, an angel plays the maple drumset

2009-06-02T15:46:00.000-07:00

This is a video assignment for a BFA art program. The time and love it asked for surpassed my predictions. Pre production took an excess of 35 hours, shooting took 12, and post took 6. Since I worked stag on this thing, you'll notice a few bugs and errors. Overall, I am quite pleased. It is dear to me because it's more of a biography than an assignment. I hope it doesn't suck for real.

PS: You might need to let it load first. The file is bigger than Kanye West's Ego. What's with that moe anyway? My cat could make better beats than him.

flip-book reanimation

2009-05-30T00:44:00.001-07:00

My songs intend to be heart-pointed arrows but have become the muse of a stilt-waking circus juggler, wearing checkered pants and grin painted on his face.
My art is learning college words yet forgetting how to conjugate itself.
My kinetic moonwalking skills are hybernating.
My listening power is fierce.
My seedgrow technique is leveling up.

This human is my hero. She is a lioness and I want her courage and defensive skills.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Xb8ZSswj90

silverback gorrila vs. 300 molly ringwalds

2009-05-18T00:58:00.000-07:00

I selfishly fantasize about having that moment....that something else. And i want this moment to occur in broad daylight, among the regular public, blossoming before them in all its splendor. I utterly CRAVE.....this moment and I want it thrust forth like a turbo-climactic denouement in a favorite all-time movie type moment. Yes, I can be singing at the top of my lungs and smiling at the same time throughout the whole number (if that's even possible). I can also be dancing upon a rooftop, parading around in a sharp tuxedo, or even twirling around a cane like it was a baton. I don't really need a half-a-million dollar camera to zoom in on me. But I do need people to join in on whatever the fuck it is i'm doing, and I would love love love it to be synchronized in such a fashion, that passersbye do point-and-awe when we flood the streets. I want it to be the way Sally moaned her brains out in that diner during lunch. Fuck man, maybe i'm just aching to scream at something and scare the living shit out of it. I'm not sure.

a leather briefcase at the trainstation

2009-05-16T00:05:00.000-07:00

longing for the sycamore
and sap upon my brow
das maiden voyage
of supernovas,
and celestial playgrounds,
polaris in my see-saw
forth imagination binge,
like baron and duchess banquet platter
or a subterfuge syringe
sypher my completeness
and spray it upon
your favorite brick
find everything to be found
in nothing that is missed
drums striking dervishly
a matador and his hat
is the gentleman and his pipe
on the trail of matters of fact

astral uprock projections

2009-04-29T07:32:00.000-07:00

after a heroic dose of expresso...i tend to breakdance in my mind...as in, i project an image of myself, breakdancing...for almost thirty minutes. i'm still trying to unravel the symbolism behind this.

stainless steel traditions

2009-04-27T07:46:00.000-07:00

this old guy blow-dries his balls in the locker room while humming "uh-huh....uh-huh". i always take a piss after a swim, therefore i always pass him on the way because he is the gatekeeper. I AM THE KEY MASTER....not!

Oh Mohave!

2009-03-28T12:46:00.001-07:00

The butterflies are back and they are RUNNING....AMUCK!!!!! AAAHHHHHH!! I'm so happy about this! Butterflies are super pretty, and they DO land on your nose to say hello and it DOES tickle and you DO get laugh attacks when you fall victim. They're everywhere today man. Kyoto's pretty excited about it too. How can anyone stay inside anymore? All i wanna do is play now. Playing is where it's at man.

This past week and a half I've been obsessing on some summer projects. I've been researching and beginning the schematics on a wind turbine for my place of stay. From what I've gathered, they're relatively low cost if you rummage through junkyards or the recycler. I feel that it's time to become more receptive to mana and address the duh in domestic energy solutions. The solution is what trendsetters are calling hygridding. Once the prototype is done, and if it's under or around $100, it only makes sense to share this formula. I'm sure more research needs to be done in regards to legality because PG&E and all those fucks aren't going to let this slide easily. But I think this is loads easier than long haul investments of photosynthetic styles. Wind is free and easy to play with.

But...there's also the efficiency in human energy. Why not human to mechanical to electric? How fresh would it be to have pedal powered anything? David Butcher has already tapped into this idea quite extensively. To rig a pedal-powered device, namely a stationary cycle attached to a motor, inverter, and etc., would be so boss because the obvious exercise benefits as well as the energy independence. Too much to say here.

The other project that I've been ready to tackle is a planter box but not just an ordinary one. I want to integrate a permaculture approach. This idea has been a brewin' since almost 5 years ago. Pesticide-free veggies? COMPLETE synergy? This would be ideal. If i could raise some peppers by July, that would own soo much. I would like to use mycelia some how but it's a little intimidating. Not sure how much influence they've got but I know it's powerful goodness for the soil. I've been using mycelia on myself for months now and it's promoted super breathing. Maybe it's worth a try.

Oh man. Oh man. I need to hit up the hedlands soon.

pickled neotony

2009-03-16T20:42:00.000-07:00

i've been flirting lately, romancing about singing everywhere i went, especially in public. but not in that broadway, perfect smile, unruffled, the audience is watching type noise...more like even the scuzzbuckets sing, when they rob people or get into fights...and the old been there done that types...they could sing like johnny cash or connie francis. i wouldn't want it to be too dramatic because that would put an expiration date on this idea. i just would like to indulge in a week of constant singing...while ordering take-out chinese =)..oooooooh.....perusing the farmers market....asking for directions.....and it would all just be our way. if i ever grow a colony and if i become mayor of this colony, i would not write laws but provide incentives for singing.

i've also been curious as to the idea of pockets. i find pockets to be for the most part wonderful, cool, and wish they were on everything. pockets put spells on me. when i see pockets that don't belong to me, i always wonder (if it isn't too obvious) what's in it as the possibilities are endless. i'm disappointed that humans aren't engineered with pockets. they should include that feature in the production process. but maybe human's don't have pockets because they weren't meant to bring things with them in travel due to the idea that everything they require for survival may be extracted or borrowed from mana. dang, i wonder if any rasta mons ever grew a famously large dread (singular) and made it into a sachet of some sort...that...would be SUCH a professional move right there.

dissonant waltz

2009-03-08T00:55:00.000-08:00

i feel at times that my energy cycle is always a recombining dimension of the american revolutionary war, where there is a great upheaval of one dominating force by the opposition. for reasons i am unable to explain, my mind and heart are commonly at odds against each other, scraping together each's reserves to perform this quite sloppy coup d’état. more often then not, i believe the mind to be the overdog. i believe that the heart unleashes its loudest war cries, yet somehow, it heeds the decree of the mind's ambition, becomes soft and quiet, and transforms into not a pain felt by the sympathetic ear, but a google entry, with an extensive exposition. and the mind...an untamed griffen, with no sense of pathos, frantic at night and haggard during day, desperately scouting for it's identity. oh how they may unite.

of unearthing seeds unplanted

2009-03-07T22:53:00.000-08:00

It would be foolish to forget that the pursuit of knowledge, whether be the detecting ancient patterns, traversing space and time, or hyper-magnification of being, has no ultimate wisdom without the pure and solitary intent to unravel thyself. To misplace this memory would be to only stymie the very humanity in which induces this transcending curiosity. Strangely, bidding farewell to selfish pursuits and welcoming those of others unsheaths not the answers to the questions which we desire, but the radiating lust which these questions lure. A great cosmic imposition is an ultimatum: Give in to humanity, or give to humanity. May art be the quotient and if so, of celebration, or suffering?

hermeto pascoal, your order is ready.

2009-02-20T14:50:00.000-08:00

inner-spirit scripting sabbaticals push you away and you drift from cosmic growth. if any dark energy impels backward dancing or if rotten pursuits elicit mechanical rhythms, then we are in dehydration of dharma and curiousness. oh how one may abandon curiosity! oh how one may be inspired by moral heros!

i have mediated on plans, and these plans are of meditation...of trekking to eureka to forage for psylocibe cubensis and summon forth destruction to liberate the phoenix. is it not more than coincidence, the shape of mushroom and shape of atom bomb cloud, both "reactions releasing vast quantities of energy from relatively small amounts of matter".

as trinie dalton desires, i want to place upon my head a gnome hat and sit atop a red-and-white polkadotted fly agaric. i would also like to understand what the other lamas saw in Tenzin Gyatso when he was a little lad, if he glowed a bit and exactly what color was emanated from his person. i wonder how an unforseen gut shot from a tibetan missile would feel like, if during your 3rd level in mario kart, some monks were all "holy.....fuck......there he is......the 14th reincarnation of the buddhist master! your holinesssssss...." **bowing so low they do forward summersaults on neck face** the kid was probably like, "who got winner?"

learning xhosa has been much more of a challenge than portuguese, but since historians believe that it was glottogony up to the latest hominids', i feel it would be an honor to achieve fluency. however learning portuguese, being also tonally whimsical and noted splice of spanish and french, has been a pleasure from time to time. i hope to achieve moderate fluency within a year.

stunted growth baaad. watering soul, goooood.

craig, fuck your list

2008-12-22T12:52:00.000-08:00

stifled by economics and ear waxed rats,
a dose of perscripted song so syndicate but on sale,
i ogle the windowsill at wishes floating

flying carpets will probably make you fat like cars do, but at least you won't pollute the air

2008-08-12T17:10:00.000-07:00

to jack -- a fever-induced shot in the dark.

a half moon slung in the black night canopy of stars and cigarette smoke
drifting heavenbound with the sounds of sunday and thoughts of monday.

hello, moon.
hello, margot.
what have you been up to today?

the blue light of another haight morning casts a spell on us both.
witches brew.
time lingers and slows to a halt as we scour
the sheets, streets, and stalls

produce. juicy fruits. black berries and nuts.
j j the pusherman digusts the impatient pedestrian people
in front of the great let's go to the bibliotech and boogie
with vonnegut and palahniuk.

armed with beats swaying in street
a platinum prelude to the olympic noodle opus
we go together like legs and feet

explosive expressions and laughter wider than wide
defenseless to the tactile tactics we both climb inside
the vast universe on our corner of the weekend.

not much, you know, same old, same old. you?

By Margot

suspended in the sky with rainbow suspenders

2008-08-11T11:40:00.000-07:00

~~you ate my crappy omelete but smiled anyway~~ to Margot

like magpies magnetized on the corner of laguna and hayes
luck-charmed and kissing croissant flaked lips...and...
speaking soft word on the syncopated step...with....
that arm-ta-lumbar interlock,
like midnight rat in talons de hawk
but
for the free ride not homicide

with your coiffure in a mess and those tendrils i obsess
and obsess and obsess like
Dionysus dry mouthed strolling through the vineyard...like...
a hound snooping around your flower bed,
unearthing a cachet of sublime redolence
with each tinge an overdose and...
breath after breath is death after death and...
i am not worthy of these immortal formalities

My lips two fish bound side by side
portraying parabolic impressions
out the emerald lagoon,
to languish and swoon
from scapula to clavicle to ear and behind...with....
smooth water style upon both third eyes,
salmon pair schooling selves with skill
will glide and glide then
retire upon thrills of rose flushed cheeks,
and gallantly perish, a journey so meek.

From Jack

on behalf of the alpha and omega

2008-08-01T12:48:00.000-07:00

~~So i just took off on my bicycle~~ to Margot

i would bike over booby traps
hidden from baghdad to bogota,
even the ocean too,
hang from a worn out
crow infested telephone wire
like a koala with no business
being in the city
just to see you read kerouac
upon your windowsill

and if my bike got eated by a monster,
i would beat him up to get it back
because that's messed up
but if my bike was destroyed
i would try to become
an engineer over night
so i could build a unicycle and
get to you

and during my morning alpha-bits breakfast
between my one-wheeled spurts
if i couldn't find a "p" to spell your name
i would pedal to Post Cereal's factory
and sabotage the production line
and tell all the workers that for some
beautiful reason
the changed alpha-bits to
Patricia-is-healthy-for-you-bits

if i found a wishbone in the barn on the way
i would probably fight
dirty and ungracefully to win
so then i could wish for ten more
to give to you
and you could wish that no one ate chiciken
ever again
and you'd still have nine more wishes left
plus a die-hard army of chickens
at your disposal

when i sleep during the trip i would have
lucid dreams
and
i would somehow
connect all the instruments i own
and be a busker like
Dick van Dyke in Marry Poppins
perform all the songs i came up with
while thinking about you during
my bubble baths
...all while flying rainbow colored kites
and probably getting some of them tangled
in each other
but it's okay because i have
a whimsical imagination
so i'll pretend they're just copying
my feelings for you

with all the quarters i made from
this 8 year adventure
i would enroll in audiology school
and pay attention
then i would hide a microphone
in your shower
and record you singing whatever
i would deconstruct the frequencies
tone and timbre
and eventually win the nobel prize
for the "Patricia Formula"
because after mailing mixtapes
laced with this template
to every celebrity
the current president will have passed
a mandate on free health care
for all
end homelessness
and President Bill Murray will be
the first democrat/actor
to admit the truth, that
the Patricia formula can save the world

i would awake from this immaculate dream
find out it all didn't happen
and instead of punching all the animals
in a fit of rage
i would still be happier than ever
because
it's the start of another day and
i would be
on my way
to see you
reading kerouac upon your windowsill

From Jack

Champagne for my good friends...good pain for my sham friends

2008-07-31T14:46:00.000-07:00

After a brief cameo in Long Beach, I've supposed a few denouements about the ecosystem i had once experimented and evolved in. However I must precede these ideas by the fact that judging a city solely by aesthetics, weather conditions, businesses to pig out at and places to inebriate ourselves in MUST be largely superseded by the criticism of common folk who occupy the landscape, as it is humans who curb or cartel the sweeping energy of city to city. This being propped, I will say that the grub is mediocre, the weather laudable, and social scene quite lackluster. This entry is starting to feel only two strides away from a yelp blurb.

2 Things:

NOT ALL...but LOTS of kats are just dying here...whether or not they were transplanted or native, i FEEL that these humans are deteriorating. This is one of a few reasons i migrated north. Long Beach carts the drugged out "when in Rome" mantra so heavily that it feels icky. Heaps and stacks of kids are just fucked-up all the time, functioning or disfunctioning day to day, WAITING for Aladdin's carpet to swoop them up bearing 45 degrees bound luck-ville. I DO believe we should and will get that big break one day or the at least our biggest break we will ever get but sedating ourselves with false senses of security in the meantime while calling it a party yet it's every day, cheap (yet expensive) thrills substituting for NECESSARY exposure to pain, and putting around our PERSONAL yet insecurity-driven verses from the book of ideology to quell the fear of self-actualization will probably get old soon. And fuck yes it's hard and some have it more rough than I will ever know, but we gotta TRY and we gotta hustle our at our best and work on it...setting examples for our friends so that THEY get inspired from our struggle.

NOT All...but almost everybody knows each other. I FEEL that i can concoct proper nomenclatures for all the tribes and cliques from Atlantic to West 4th St. This may sound like a good thing but I feel that situations like these breed warriors of anonymity, which certainly argues for our Individualistic tendency. It is assumed this statement is in accord with knocking subcultures in LBC but the intention is to emphasize the notion that there, everybody is separated by only 2 degrees, meaning that if Picaboo Flemming finds out he farts fire, then tells Margaret Nemoy, Luscious Weinner, former best friend of Picaboo but current nemesis will have found out and thus impregnating all associates with this news. So basically, you can't even pass gas without everyone finding out. It is for this reason, being an anonymous hippapotamous has value.

Beyond these OPINIONS, i still have a spot for long beach in my corazon and it still sports a charm like no other city i've been to....this love is bolstered by the diversity and acceptance of diversity, as LBC is a universal city.

In another report.......

I was blessed by a shaman for the first time in my life. This in turn, possibly placebo and possibly coinciding other energy influences, has made me whole, and pure, and free-flowing. The shaman was actually a mother of a new friend and a shaman of the Hmongtype. She in no way appeared cliche or trite at all. I came into this situation by chance. I had no bleeding agenda or desire other than a basic spiritual cleansing. i did receive a proper dose of goodness though. The ceremony went as follows...

I was given options. I declined a card induced reading into the future because I didn't want to abuse that knowledge or curtail "my future." I accepted a "good luck" ritual and a hand-reading of my past. In the good luck ritual, "S" (the shaman) used an egg, two white candles, a bowl, and a bottle of water. She first prompted me to sit up and naturally I refrain from much movement or verbal communication. Then she lit the candle and grafted it to the plate, then proceeded to chant and wave the plate in front of my face. She then took the raw egg and rubbed it from place to place on my body while chanting. This actually took quite some time and I began to relax, remove my skepticism, and I almost fell asleep. While this was occurring, I was given previous instructions to focus on what I want removed from me such as things in my life that I found unpleasant or un-beneficial. Afterward S put the egg under the candle flame for a couple of seconds and cracked it into the bowl. She then examined the yolk and chanted summore. S then extinguished one of the candle flames into the bowl. I can't remember all of it but I know that there was more chanting afterward.

After this section was complete, S then read my palm and indicate two things about me which can be construed as general but I feel are true. She indicated that I had one serious and painful heart-break and one minor. Then she said I was fortunate and wonderfully blessed/born with good luck. S then stated that I am in great health. Lastly, she stated that this year and the following year do not hold much luck for me but that the following year holds large, large, large amounts of luck and success and many great things will happen to me at that time.

The last act was a blessing. S recited a blessing and blessed me. She also blessed a bottle of water and I was given a sort of prescription. i was told that after every shower in the morning, to pour some of the water on my head and drink some. She said by doing so I will attain things that I want in life and be welcomed with good luck. S also told me that on the 31st of this month (tomorrow), followed by the 1st and 2nd of next month, right when i wake, i should give thanks to what I have and wish/ask for things i do want, which will then come true.

When my stay was complete, I felt (possibly placebo induced) wonderful and peaceful and calm. I've always wanted to experience a ceremony of sorts and I believe that the next time will be a great one. Maybe I'll try a different one.

paper airplane dogfights in the meadow

2008-06-22T11:31:00.000-07:00

the one reservation that i keep regarding "nature vs nurture" maybe just another spoke within an idealist's tutorial. my motto is fairly basic and it would sound something like this...of course people are influenced by their habitats and the tenants that occupy within...a vintage permit for this claim is Darwin's Galápagos archipelago...a territory brimming with blatant testimonies of environmental influence, evolved, straight cocked and locked for the next crusade...as animals will be but what's novel about this place is that DIVERSITY IS GENEROUS. Not just different types of animals but mixed bags of species. They're all on their own tip, doing their own thing...

observing people from the south bay and comparing them to people from san francisco made me think of this. and this made me think of shapes and colors and these as properties of energy we all sport.

i was on the muni on the way to golden gate park and i sat there by the bus driver...he looked so happy about his route, as you would guess his routine is a peaceful one. then a woman caught my attention. she was maybe a late twentysomething and on her lap was her son who kept inquiring of sweets. he kept asking "where's the sweets mommy?"...i think babies are ignorant and suck much but this was a cute attack all over the bus man...but this woman was leaning on the shoulders of another woman and it was poetry. this mother was most beautiful thing i've seen in a while and not like she was a model or held up a wasaga with her white gloves..it was that she was glowing with estrogen, holding her child proudly and existing gracefully lesbian and in her eyes existed this attitude, this life lived truly contently. she had donned the sun rays professionally and the best topping of all was that she wore a smirk upon her lips and it was all wrapped up there. it was like she GOT life and you wanted to fall in love with her right there. this makes you go..."oh, that's what we should paint"...

the last starfighter was stolen from me then delivered poorly

2008-06-10T16:50:00.000-07:00

There are only two ways to defeat the demon that is traffic. You must wield the skill of pretend.

Pretend that your vehicle is a spaceship. The shift button is the lasers and the overdrive button is the rockets. The e-brake button is for the mines. That is all.

let me give you a tap dance okay

2008-06-02T21:55:00.000-07:00

there's a lot of beautiful happenings and lotsa times we forget this...maybe it's because you have to be wearing certain goggles or maybe you just have to be a poet...but i think we just have to look around us and be here...we just have to take lonely walks around the forest and look.

today i saw two very beautiful things and it was the type that was too much...the type that makes you cry because your happy to know that its still around...lingering...but for real. people do this all the time...they go to weddings to remind themselves or for some, convince themselves that there is really some sort of authentic love out there and it's good to have this belief even for an instant, the belief that selflessness is real.

i was going for a walk down the street and there was this haggard and emaciated dog just being really lazy, being a big fat rug on the sidewalk, thinking about who the fuck knows. then another dog was walking toward it and he was sporty, just such a buddy. he dropped this toy urchin, the kind that squeaks when you squish it, purposely in front of old sleepy face and looked at him for like 5 seconds. then he just walked back to where he came from. what a cool guy.

then i went into my back yard and i got addicted to watching these ants being busy little lemmings and i guess one had died or lost in a brawl because he was on his back. this other ant checked the fucked up one out and picked him up, then carried him back into town. that was fucking boss because i bet he totally disobeyed orders and is gonna get his nuts ripped out but he did it anyway and that is very sweet.

i don't know. i wonder if blind people can dream.

empathy

2008-05-25T17:32:00.001-07:00

Have you heard of rock'n'roll? Yes. Then you know who I am.

2008-05-22T21:16:00.000-07:00

Allergies are such shitty genetic handmedowns. If I could I would take these genes and hide them in a huge slice of steak and feed it to a starving liger. Then when the liger shat it out, I would toss grenades all over that muck. Sometimes when i get a sneeze attack I get mad possessed and perform this shitty dance, as if some demons had a grudge about me. My allergies were tame at one point and I would only sneeze when i looked up at the sky or at the sun (soo bad for you). Now if I look at some guinnea walking on the street or if I look at a post it i'll just rapid fire that shit man and there's shrapnel everywhere!! i remember when I was 8 I was in a field chasing this chihuahua that stole my cookie and my body was like "hey, watch out for that pollen you fag!" and i had to rub my eyes so I did for like 5 minutes. Then that wet flesh part of the corner eye started growing and growing until it fucking covered my pupils!! My body fucking blinded itself!! That's fucked up man. It goes away pretty easy with ice though but i had to play marco polo to get to it and that was weak.

If I ever get a camera, i'm gonna try to capture that calm before the storm, right before you explode yucky mucus. I swear, the faces humans make are fantastic!! Most people look like a kid about to cry after they just got whooped. Some look like they just caught their mom getting boned by Steve Buscemi. It looks crazy, but it's so REAL. An even more bananas act is the act of fighting a sneeze with your face. That makes you look like you feel when a rancher brands your buttox.

I bet I can sneeze with my eyes open if i clockwork orange my shit.

It's all about Naan and coconut curry

2008-05-18T01:59:00.000-07:00

Today took my car to the doctor and had some free time to cash in so i skipped to the park...people don't know how to react when they see someone skipping and if i saw someone skipping i would sing a line in a song to the beat of the feet. When i got to the park i placed my body under a tree and faced this massive human-made fountain. I tried reading a book but this pair of ducks started sauntering at me and we stared at each other for a while. They took waddle after waddle and came within less than one foot of me i thought i might have been chilling in their spot or something because they looked like they had some business with me. Instead they just waddled around me in circles. Circle after circle I attempted to decode their communication style but i couldn't get it. They waddled away and they were boyfriend and girlfriend.

i don't know what the duck's primary skill is. They aren't really professional anythings. Are they muses? Or jesters? I couldn't figure it out. I thought all animals had primary skills. Like the hummingbird has professional stealth skills and they can maneuver in linear fashions that look sick as fuck. Actually i guess the duck has social skills. I bet ducks are smooth operators and can woo other ducks into joining their clubs.

This made me think about innate skills in humans. I think that when humans are built, there's this lottery they unconsciously play and they end up with a miscellaneous primary skill, one's that'll never be improved if others impose on them. For example, I was a siiick ass prodigy pianist when i was 6 years alive. I like skipped a couple learning levels and starting playing classics by ear at recitals with adults. Then I stopped going to class because my teacher was this ancient chinese pro who learned and taught the ancient way...she hit my hands with a ruler when i fucked up and she was crazy! I guess that's why my mom plucked me out, she thought I was being abused or something. She couldn't teach me. I got it naturally man...like if you look at an ear of corn or a mango you already know how to cope with it, you eat around the soul. This whole lesson's like this old chinese proverb that I heard Amy Tan spit one time, how you can't save a fish from drowning because well, it will die if you do.

Also at the park was this fogey who was running around the fountain and he was a sensation because his feet were faster than his body...like this bloke was top-heavy the way roadrunner is about to blitz and his upper body stays put as his feet jam out. It was boss. I was sure he was tipping over backwards.

Unrelated is something a friend told me, how there's this cartoon about a guy who was a badass thief...he stole the Eiffel Tower using four balloons Holy shit!!!! I wish something amazing like that happened once in a while...proving the impossible.

Frankenstein should be in a jazz band

2008-04-30T16:31:00.000-07:00

this afternoon i didn't work. i decided to lay about my couch and catch up on all the albums i half listened to on my computer and the vinyl albums i've stared at, the one's that have dusted covers and pictures of musicians with long unkempt hair parading in some off-beat sunlight. i don't know why but there are albums i have looked at forever and have only enamored the images on the covers...never played... yet have such an imagination about the life behind them. i listened and they were all like mystery sandwiches characterized with all sorts of competing flavors and brave ingredients. i discovered something...i discovered that there are these many platitudes of advice and deprecation from these artists that seem so trite and so manufactured and so PREPARED. I used prepared very expertly because the lyrics fall too easily in place. I believe this is the folly of two things. Rhyme and Recording. When these artists rhyme, they suffocate the full expression, if there really is one. I know rhyme has its functional genius and serves as draino to the song's pipes but it also contaminates the purity of expression. And here's the thing about the recording process. When artists record their albums in the studio, there's lots of pressure to focus on timing, recording dynamics and all that jazz. This steals from the moment or really getting into the song. Very rarely do i hear the angst or the wavering voice of someone like Cat Power or Joni Mitchell or Bjork for fuck sake. Now thats what it's about. I know there's a bajillion reasons to make songs but when did sincerity and EMOTIONAL CONTENT become renounced as the backbone of a song. When was the last time we heard a raw ass recording with minimal takes and minimal processing? I would rather hear a musician who lacks vocal intelligence but sings from ultimate pain then hear some American Idol crock. So much of music is about being cool now and the fucking six dollar haircut and the rocking out. So much music is caught up in the world of cool it's sad as shit.

i also went outside for a bit and looked at the sky for a while and the bugs milling about in the soil. They look busy as usual. I noticed two trees...one was in the shade and one was not. I also noticed myself bringing more attention to the tree in the sun, as it looked holier i guess you could say. Today i supposed I noticed that i'm not as dark inside as i was say for the last couple of years. I've changed and have become lighter inside, more inclined to brightness and candor...less apocalyptic and this is nice to know. So to mark this day i'm going to the store and getting a pot with soil....and inside i'll place a really swell looking feather because the wind will be it's puppeteer...because it will remind me how there's life behind everything and if you notice that, then you'll be on the brighter side of things.

Two truths about my favorite show

2008-04-09T22:27:00.000-07:00

1. Winnie Cooper's a fucking stale ass, overrated bitch and she should die. I want her to be able to come back to life google times so that she could die over and over again.

2. Steaming Holy shit, Madeline Adams is the foxiest chick if your 12!!! Kevin f'ed up for not swooning her all over. She fucking OFFERED to have him lick chocolate mouse off her finger and HE BITCHED OUT!! Goddammnit! I feel so much regret for him, it's like I lost her. Kevin Arnold, you butthead.

Keep my whiskers to the sun

2008-04-08T18:59:00.000-07:00

When it's 4 in the morning I wanna be like the 12 spotted domino that for some reason looks like it tips over easier than the other ones. I want to be like this because the domino looks peaceful and most things look peaceful when they're pushing up daisies. Also the domino doesn't have knees. I do and they keep me up at night. My knees like to show off their free will and when they contemplate, I bet they contemplate hard! I bet they call themselves "The Law" and "Justice" and romance about belonging to some badass muy thai legend, who DESTROYS fools in the jaw and flying knees the shit outta abdomens. My knees aren't exactly like that but the'yre fucking EVERYWHERE when i'm just trying to catch some REM so get PISSED about all of that man. After letting this thought marinate a bit, I've come to the conclusion that my body is having night time withdrawals from cat spooning. I used to sleep with Kyoto all the time and I'd be KO'ed quick style. I miss Kyoto so much it's starting to get to me. I need her back soon. This morning I was thinking about her and made up a sweet move, entirely inspired by her fighting style. It's called "Kyoto's pounce" and may only be performed after something serendipitous goes down.

Kyoto attacks with the style of these two psychos COMBINED. First is the warning shuffle like you're gripping the earth with your digits as hard as you can so as for maximum thrust hence maximum damage. Then you pause a second and stare the target in the soul. Then you release the fucking demon and fuck shit up! I've got the moves diagramed kinda.

First you start off in a run of the mill badass stance, like nothing's important because if something gets important, you will kick it's ass out of simple reaction.

Then something equivalent to a simultaneous 5,000 penguin bellyslide happens and you FLIP the fuck out. So you get all this energy and in a counterclockwise direction, rotate the "L" of your elbows while your back descends slowly and you squat a little.

Lastly you spring up with the height parallel to the level of happiness and if anything above you gets in the way, it will get a brand new asshole. Even if a ninja gets in the way somehow, it will be DESTROYED no matter what.

Kyoto's pounce.
Inspired by a tabby.

i remember back in nam'....

2008-03-30T19:39:00.000-07:00

dang man...i was all up in that dudes face on the other side of the mirror and i stared him down this mean stare. i looked at his hair and thought of sebastian (such a name!!) from little mermaid and how he's this jamaican crab who slammed on EVERYTHING. i pictured this psycho slamming on my hair like "ya mon, what wid da bum cloth hair you be busyin' about mon? mon it look like you be a jungle lion unda da sea !" then i'll three-frame-van-damme that crab's big claw and take that comment up the butt for real. this imaginary crab had a point so i went to get my hairs cut.

i already knew that this would be a tussle and that's why i hate getting my shit cut. i almost considered getting a flowbee because getting your mane ninja'd by Tina Pham sucks asssss! it's the same shit every time man.

alright so i went in the shop 14% big brave dog but 86% coward. she sat me down and i totally decoded her smile. i think it meant "yes, yes, ima turn you into 007 handsome" and i was like "oh fuck! no your not!" then the battle began. she fired the hazardous question twice "how you want cut?" because i tooooook my fucking time framing this answer. what i did was i imagined myself as Begbie from Trainspotting or Bill "the butcher" Cutting from Gangs of New York because when these mustache'd fucks ask for five bucks, you give em fifty. this was totally necessary.

so i asked for three inches all around, tapered back 1/2 inch to 3 inches from bottom to ear level...easy! then she pointed to this picture taped to the mirror and it was fucking Gregory Peck when he did To Kill a Mockingbird and it felt like i just found out my blind date was Scarlett Johansson! I was so relieved, it looked just like i explained. So she's gettin down on my stuff and I'm just getting lost in how cutting your hair is like shedding the past and how men with ponytails are probably has-been's. Then i'm starting to sedate myself in the thought that it's expected...that we tell what we want but it ends up like the treaty of versailles where i'll have to be germany in accepting responsibility and pay reparations...it ended up being a 12 dollar haircut and a twelve dollar haircut it was.

for the sahara mollusk

2008-03-13T21:13:00.000-07:00

a tunnel crowded tunnel vision,
smoke spilled on soiled shirts,
time taking time to hit the presses,
inside i organize perfect verse.

clutching tight to the opiate,
plowing down my callused knight,
a seething throng of abaddon,
levied an afternoon delight.

i hush get blind let a lotus bloom
open-palmed mad poised a sovereign heart
under full moon i plant mad blessings
to the tunnel abject i will impart