Where have we become?

I can't be sure of the answer to this question, but I can tell you that my thought process is very clear now with the aural tones and the soft back static. I will use this in my upcoming video trailers. Does this shit gradually slow down, or that just the electrical signals firing in my brain? What is happening with the pressure inside my head. It feels as if a membrane is become pressurized without control. This is going to kill me. And somehow, it feels great.

Today I really wanted to play Rush'n Attack!. Or, do I just feel like it's been all day? If this feeling was brought about by the eye doser, then I think it means something... bad. Perhaps the day that you've prophecized has come. I hear a train whistle, loud now, but no known tracks are near. I'll try to move on now.

I saw Henry Rollins the other night - his spoken word routine. It was good, in fact, much better than I expected. He comes off as an insecure famous dude, which is probably why he draws crowds with such an unorthodox act. He pretty much just tells stories all night, a lot of which touch on deeply seeded human emotion which we all have in common, and a general he discusses his general disdain for our political policies, which most of us have in common. A well received show by me. He wasn't overly political or politically pretentious for that matter, like a Sean Penn type. I need not mention the movie Into the Wild again, thank you. It’s too bad everything Sean Penn does can’t be as good as Bad Boys, which to me was a lot like the game Bad Dudes minus Karnov. Rollins didn’t say anything that we didn’t already know, but he did talk about things from a personal perspective, which you don’t get (or want to get) from talk radio or any cable news channel (remember that time O’Reilly wanted to falafel that lady on her answering machine? Now imagine him on stage trying to make that an engaging and funny story). Specifically, for example, he talked about speaking with an Iraqi cab driver that he met (please don’t allow that to feed stereotypes about Middle Eastern cabbies, I add). In this discussion, it was realized, sadly, that the people of countries rarely dislike each other (unless they’re Americans and they also happen to be into the faction of the modern country music scene that promotes ultra-patriotism and also those jerks that use too many parenthetical notes), instead, governments wage wars to benefit a group of people, of which I have yet to meet a member of in this country, but likely don’t literally exist except for in highly guarded fortresses and under ground bunkers. Again, this is not a new concept, nor is it all that informative. But, as I was saying, sadly, there isn’t a thing we can do about it. Nor has there ever been really, unless you consider the time some kids smashed up the military recruiting office in Madison that time. I think they got arrested and then the place stayed open anyway. Rollins didn’t say these things specifically, but I think we all knew it. And it was sad. And, I felt a little guilty, as I often do, that I lack the motivational effort to do anything. This too, I blame on the government, with their high-fat snack diet programs and “no exercise to freedom” program that I’ve recently started, not to mention the constant stream of demeaning and demoralizing mail I get personally from D. Rumsfeld and Harrison Ford daily. I know, I thought he was one of those Hollywood liberal types as well – as an example, he always sends me pictures of when he was in “The Fugitive,” and he has to fight that hooked-arm guy. But to be serious, it is quite a terrible feeling, and one that creates quite the pit of despair.

I haven’t talked about the politics much lately, and for good reason I think… at least internally. To be honest, the whole game is a bit disheartening and depressing, and to be even more honest, I don’t know a goddamn thing. Maybe that’s the one thing I learned. It’s ruthless too, and that’s a possible second and more important lesson; so is the rest of the world. In addition, Madison is certainly a bastion of political thought, and may indeed be 70 square miles surrounded by reality, as the conservatives say. However, I always maintain that there is no fate but what you make… yes, I coined that phrase originally. To go further, Milwaukee is not Madison, in fact, it is in many ways the opposite. The city is in dire need of change. Change, a broad and vague necessity, can’t be explained by me or anyone else in one shitty blog attempt, so I won’t even hurt myself. But I can tell you this: things will get worse before they get better. Account:

1) Friday a 19 year old girl was driving a mere 3 blocks from my home when she was shot in her van, causing her to crash and die.

2) Saturday night’s slumber was disturbed by a short shouting match and a triple gun shot. Not far away at all, but I’ve been pretty sure every weekend that this was going to happen at the establishment near here.

Now we’ll retrofit the place. Bars, wires, spikes, etc. Watch out. Or don’t? I’m not sure, I guess I’ll just move away like the rest who are able to, assuming I’m able to. Lots of kids live around here, and it’s really too bad. Again, probably not worth my making the commentary on why things are this way, and it will be much easier for me to just say, “because it is.” But it’s tragic and horrific, with only a grim forecast for the future. And although I’m cautious to admit because it may stir up guilt, I think we all have to step to the plate and come up with real answers.

Chew on that.

Omicron Ultimate: The nemesis of you know who

If you guessed Megatron or Skeletor, unfortunately, no small prizes are in your future. However, if you guessed Omega Supreme (said with booming, echoing voice) you win one free helicopter ride and a fig newton (generic brand). Omicron Ultimate, the recently well-documented enemy of Omega Supreme, was the Decepticons highly guarded secret. Until, that is, a few days ago, when I swung by the Koss national headquarters on Port Washington road, next to the Home Depot and the factory with the broken windows, and saw, through the window, a sight that nearly made me faint with fear and elation at the same time, and will make me piss myself come Christmas Day: three men working together to convert the largest robot in history from underground missile launching hell machine silo (with laser radar) to teleportation shuttle: Omicron Ultimate. That's what all of their T-shirts said anyway, "Team Omicron Ultimate - when you want to win, you shoot for the stars." I proceeded to knock on the window and then run off. I went home and put a few notes together while trying to keep myself together. I also scoured old notes and prophecies that I had made about this day.

I received a call later that night whilst in bed. Without thought (which I lack after sleeping off several mountain shakers and a twelver of these fuckers.) I dismissed the caller as a debt collector for Mrs. Gholson or a teacher of Nelson Gholson's, who, according to the mail I receive, has missed out on the school lunch program as well as classes. But the voice was persistent. The mystery tones, which sounded like a whiny 12 year-old trying to sound like a 30 year old man with a thick and strong voice, threatened me first with light violence, then leaked the Omicron's story to me - the one that will eventually be published in the robot background and special powers pamphlet to be included in each shipped package. The story is long and detail oriented, but very important. I could repeat it all here, but for now, and for your own safety, here's a excerpt:


Omicron Ultimate is the ultimate weapon created specifically to stand guard at the decepticon lair and to eventually crush the Autobot's heavily fortified mountain base including Omega Supreme's plastic track and giant claw. Believed to have been constructed entirely out of a top secret alloy that can only be created using enriched energon cubes and the freshly burnt flesh of humanoid children, Omicron is virtually invincible and in addition the alloy allows him several moments of invisibility per day. The main program that Omicron is now running (Wellberger 3.2) allows him to monitor complex computer systems and thought processes, which also will lead to his ability to learn. The superb robot programming will allow him to understand his huge responsibility to undermine the efforts of the autobots and serve Megatron proper. The decepticons, who spent over 10 years developing this plan, live in constant fear that the program will collapse under its own weight. Several lesser Decepticons have already shown disapproval and vow not to waste their laser energy on any robot war in the name of pork barrel defense projects. Will Omicron overcome this turmoil and serve valiantly, or will it potentially magnify the immense depression that may develop as the result of his superior programming ability which will allow him (maybe) to eventually develop complex emotional feelings? Will the pressure push him an heroic state or will it become too overwhelming and cause ceaseless destruction and unessary crushing? This fault, afterall, was not considered in the origninal design. But later, a special computer program patch...

Well, I think I'll leave the rest to you. Now, I must go, into a mentally free zone which I am beginning to enter. Wow, this iDoser is like a terrible nightmare I had and a terrible day which I once lived.

Light My Fire (Jim Morrison was a wuss!)

There is this thing you will come across by going to the i-Doser webs. It does indeed make the lead singer of The Doors seem like a well-adjusted young man in retrospect.

Anyway, it is a collection of downloadable "Binaural Beats" that were supposedly created to re-create the effects of various exogenous mind-altering chemicals, psychopharmacologics, analgesics, endogenous hormones, neurotropics, and hard-core street drugs. Also, life-altering spiritual experiences and close encounters with other beings.

Does it work? I don't know... yet. You need headphones. Maybe it creates a real experience. Maybe not. Anecdotes circulating suggest that even people who try a "dose" in a "blinded" way and don't know the "name" of the "dose" they're listening to do indeed show effects consistent with the alleged dose.

My heart wants to try some, but my brain says, "Please be gentle with me." My spine is also slightly frightened (but it cannot talk so I ignore it).

Will I lose control of my bowels? Will my prostate shrink (or worse, enlarge to a painful and debilitating degree)? Will I drown in a shallow pool of _____? Will I join a nomadic group of cultists?

Either way, there's no way I'm paying for this bullshit. I plan to "share" it via the "sharers" on the "bittorrent" networks. The whole collection weighs in at 11 GB. Screw that.

Well, now is not the time to experiment with this, but on an airplane might be all right. We shall see.

And just for the record, they do offer a "dose" of Adrenochrome (props to H.S.T., may he rest in pieces).

Yusuf Islam

The title of the post is my attempt to expand our blogaudience. Blogience. Oh, yes, fiestawizard... you're welcome! Really. No need to... no really... you mustn't... don't try to thank me anymore! I'm just an average awesome dude. Praise me all you must, but please, no more prostitutes are to be ordered to my home!

I'm all caught up. Apologies. Mental blockage now clear.

Why did you use that on word generator on me? (The Lament of Brinksley, a fool's whisper)

The fall begins to set itself in today. The rust takes hold, the church bells sound through the wind as the late afternoon sun begins to decay. Soon enough everything will begin its slow descent into a state of dilapidation, including your own psyche.

He was in a tree trimming truck when we found him. He had started a band called Beef Candles, which was in some way a take-off on Sixteen Candles, the movie, and in another way a mocking of the inefficiency of modern slaughter houses. He bridged gaps with his music, that much I will admit. I will say no more.

Details

Remember that movie, "Back to School" with Rodney Dangerfield? You know, it's really amazing in there, he giths the administration, gets that one lady to like him (Jerri was her name?) and is still able to dive extraordinarily well for his age. Also he helps his son out. Also he passes the test at the end.

Well, movies like that don't just come around these days, let me tell you. I just saw "Into the Wild" and it was terrible. I won't go into further detail at this time as I am still damaged by the experience. Look for reviews if you want to know more.

Commeth the light... that saves

Praise Jesus. I need not say that at the beginning of every post or that the posts are few and far between and the reading of the posts are even fewer and farther betweener. Don't excuse my poor use of grammar, just let give me the raking over the coals please.

The city is in disrepair. The days here seem to get continually more strange, and as I write (and speak outloud what I write) a smothering cloud lingers at ground level and obscures my view. Only two weeks ago, things were much more clear. Within the shortcomings, out of the black cloud, Dave Mustaine's guitar solos triumphed. Hope was received warmly by 1000 outcasts.

The steel, which is much too strong according to Mustaine, has more relavenance for me than ever. And by ever, I mean in my nearly 20 years of listening to Mustaine while dreaming of conspiracy, holy wars, and political vengeance. He still looks the same, and his lyric is more relavant now, to everyone, than ever.

River city ransoms. Comraderie between the crowd members was at an all time high. You were there, but you probaby didn't know it. For all practical purposes, so was everyone you went to high school with in addition to some newer speed junkies who were looking for a nostalgic thrill. It's good that you stopped listening to this trash. However, as I've mentioned many times before, those that refuse to heed the call of Thor also refuse to share a certain bond. Now, the bond you may be aware of, and I may be aware that it's possible that you broke free from it long ago, and maybe for good reason. I do get a little sick of hearing, "hey, that shirt man..." unless it's my Iron Maiden shirt, which is indeed authentic, and warrants a "fuck yeah" from me every time. Indeed, those people have your back, in so much as they are able to. And indeed, they do want to come over to your place at some point, possibly for an extended stay. But, before I stop myself here or get too entrenched in this, let me remind you of the lack of or lameness of comraderie that exists in other social musical subcultures:

- country folk - will enjoy a tune with one another, but will just as easily take up arms (Chevy or Ford?)
- Dave Matthews type college "hippies/free spirits/dudes" - will befriend you to use your drugs whilst listening to T-lake. They have no loyalty.
- Hippy festers - people who claim to have classical hippy theory usually just like pot. The real hippies despise them while they continue to remain in graduate school and fight the man - they even burned down the burning man thing this year when they found out (to their horror) that he was built by the man. It was only a matter of time.
- classic rockers - always fight each other for no reason, usually over some phantom 40 year old woman. They stick to their guns when it comes to music though, denying that other written verse deserves to be called music. Occasionally a long-lasting friendship develops (see various sources (not directly referenced here))
- math rock/music for the condescending - need I say more? They all hate each other, each one being a self appointed master of the universe, too smart even to acknowledge the existence of others' tastes
- all other music - statistics are random at best. Some lesser known bands have sizable cult followings of good friends, while most pop acts have careless fools pushing each other in the preztel line.

Needless to say, my time in this thinking project is limited by the lack of brain energy. Energy has been mostly expended on technical learnings, of which I'm getting flooded with. It's not soul killing, as previously defined, but it does quench the fire in one side of my brain. I think geometrically and vectorially now. I don't have the proper anatomical formulations to solve the puzzle, so I just go on with my life. I found this:

Help me