Musician seeking musicians. Requirements include:
Figurative nature
Those ab lines that indicate much sex
Willingness to show stomach
No epileptics
A resume of favorite samples
Women who already like you, or
Men who can't believe you anymore
No opposition to formula
Wear this shirt but hate it
hear shit and play it
fear love and get paid
vocals are covered
what I need is a drummer.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Bastardizer (thanks Acme)
Take this bastard:
He attends a boring school
He eats meals prepared in favor
He shits out those meals and shivers
He tramples on all the ants he'll never see
His face has all the parts apt to cry
His limbs are a boring function
His brain is just as grey
as the sky on the day
his father didn't
pull out.
He attends a boring school
He eats meals prepared in favor
He shits out those meals and shivers
He tramples on all the ants he'll never see
His face has all the parts apt to cry
His limbs are a boring function
His brain is just as grey
as the sky on the day
his father didn't
pull out.
I do wear a uniform.
There's a routine. It doesn't have to transpire, but its better that it does. I do, at minimum, the following:
Wake up at least 2 hours before i have to be anywhere.
shower
shave (if needed)
brush teeth
apply cologne
comb hair
get dressed:
---button up shirt & Dickies if school day
---t-shirt & Dickies if work day
---1460 Dr. Martens
Prepare and Eat oatmeal
Take daily vitamin
Smoke a cigarette
Visualize the day
The rest just happens. But if i can perform these tasks in this order, my day, no matter how it turns out, seems more approachable.
Wake up at least 2 hours before i have to be anywhere.
shower
shave (if needed)
brush teeth
apply cologne
comb hair
get dressed:
---button up shirt & Dickies if school day
---t-shirt & Dickies if work day
---1460 Dr. Martens
Prepare and Eat oatmeal
Take daily vitamin
Smoke a cigarette
Visualize the day
The rest just happens. But if i can perform these tasks in this order, my day, no matter how it turns out, seems more approachable.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Summer Plans
This summer hopes to be a tangled one. School, for the first time ever, has taken a seat amongst the perennial contenders debate and work as measures of focus. Before, it made little sense to devote off time to school. The time for school will provide for itself, or so i thought. Its clear now that if i want to be a writer, or if want something of substance- define that as you will- after i graduate then i had better understand the damned discipline. I'm lucky enough to know a professor willing to take time out of her schedule to speak with me about writing and literature. Ask anyone who the most well-read person they know is and no one will say me. Nor should they. Reading was difficult for me. I lost concentration. My mind drifted out of the text. A incidental phrase would snag me and wouldn't allow me to move on. I've become a more disciplined reader now, but not to my satisfaction. This summer is about becoming a better reader. The rest of my life can be about becoming a better writer. The aforementioned professor once said something along the lines of 'Some people want to become without the becoming'. That resonated with me like nothing she'd ever said. This summer is a becoming.
Why do I want to write? There's a girl and right now, i just want to write about her. But i wouldn't know where to begin or, more importantly, conclude. The situation is a unique and unexpected experience. I've combed over nearly 12 years of online diary keeping i've done, and in particular, entries about the girls i've had interests in. The cliche, the redundancy, the narrative droning can all be explained or excused by inexperience. What is true about each of those entries was a sincere desire to want to share how I felt about someone to other people; people that would understand me and be happy for me. The difference between love stories and others is that love stories want to be understood to a greater degree. Abstraction works elsewhere.
So, I can't write how i feel about her very well. Telling her how I feel, and have felt, is just as hard. So i'll leave it at this: we will spend time together in a daring capacity. I hope that everyone that reads this can do the same.
Why do I want to write? There's a girl and right now, i just want to write about her. But i wouldn't know where to begin or, more importantly, conclude. The situation is a unique and unexpected experience. I've combed over nearly 12 years of online diary keeping i've done, and in particular, entries about the girls i've had interests in. The cliche, the redundancy, the narrative droning can all be explained or excused by inexperience. What is true about each of those entries was a sincere desire to want to share how I felt about someone to other people; people that would understand me and be happy for me. The difference between love stories and others is that love stories want to be understood to a greater degree. Abstraction works elsewhere.
So, I can't write how i feel about her very well. Telling her how I feel, and have felt, is just as hard. So i'll leave it at this: we will spend time together in a daring capacity. I hope that everyone that reads this can do the same.
Monday, April 19, 2010
I’ve been in 3 car wrecks. None of them have been serious. No matter the severity, I always seem to ask myself the same question when I step out to confront the other motorist: what is happening? It is not as if I don’t know what just happened or how it happened. But even a 20 mile per hour fender bender is a pretty violent jolt. Its always followed by a consuming silence and the question “what is happening?”
I didn’t know Vince Binder. He was a debater like me; a much better debater. His record speaks for itself. I’ve been following the news on his disappearance closely. I’m still not entirely sure if he is gone forever, but all evidence indicates as much. This year, I have dodged every bullet. College debate is a collection of puzzled personalities that shine back at one another, the glimmer which only other debaters can perceive and are inexplicably drawn toward, despite the distance such light creates at times. Ross Smith, Scott Deatherage, and Doug Duke died earlier in the debate season. Like Vince, I didn’t know them except through reputation. Each of their deaths was a violent jolt to our communal sensibility. What is happening?
This year we debated whether the reduction of nuclear weapons was desirable. Some teams, including myself, forwarded arguments negating the value of human life. After all, we can’t determine if death is good or bad if we don’t know whether a particular incarnation is worth preserving. Could I speak those same arguments to the Binder family, as if they do not know the value of a specific life? Could I even portray that as an option in everyday conversation? The answer to both questions is, without a doubt, no. The act of debating requires that we take much for granted. When my arguments stare me in the face, who blinks first? It’s a game. We play a game. But we just happen to play a game that implicates our being. Winning or losing a chess game does not make me a liar.
I am paused at the humanity portrayed by the debate community in lieu of these events. Sometimes I wonder if we are as sympathetic as we should be. There are times when we are the coldest group of individuals I’ve ever encountered. Not today, though. Must we lose more in order to understand more of ourselves? I hope not. My sanity would not last long if my debate partners, coaches or friends died unexpectedly. Needless to say, mystery clouding such a tragedy would keep me stuttering.
What is happening? It’s a sadness; a frustration and confusion at that which cannot be explained by deductive or inductive logic. The medium through which I rationalize the world collapses, and I know, too, that many others grapple with the understanding part. It is human to want to beat the bark off a tree with a baseball bat when nothing makes sense. He was so young, he was so innovative, he was a champion, he was my mentor, he was a friend and now…they aren’t? no. The barkless tree is proof of that.
What has happened? I stood, dazed in the street, cars zipping by, heads crooked to the scene as two cars lay smoking in the intersection of Rock and Harry Street. I see her, speaking to a child in the backseat. Both looked about each other, collecting evidence that the other is whole and functioning and still theirs. They sat at the side of the road and cradled their heads in their arms. I moved toward them. In a moment, she spoke to me in Spanish. She had the same question as me: are you ok? I don’t speak Spanish; don’t need to in order to understand. We hug tightly adjacent to wreckage. We’re together, faultless and alive.
I didn’t know Vince Binder. He was a debater like me; a much better debater. His record speaks for itself. I’ve been following the news on his disappearance closely. I’m still not entirely sure if he is gone forever, but all evidence indicates as much. This year, I have dodged every bullet. College debate is a collection of puzzled personalities that shine back at one another, the glimmer which only other debaters can perceive and are inexplicably drawn toward, despite the distance such light creates at times. Ross Smith, Scott Deatherage, and Doug Duke died earlier in the debate season. Like Vince, I didn’t know them except through reputation. Each of their deaths was a violent jolt to our communal sensibility. What is happening?
This year we debated whether the reduction of nuclear weapons was desirable. Some teams, including myself, forwarded arguments negating the value of human life. After all, we can’t determine if death is good or bad if we don’t know whether a particular incarnation is worth preserving. Could I speak those same arguments to the Binder family, as if they do not know the value of a specific life? Could I even portray that as an option in everyday conversation? The answer to both questions is, without a doubt, no. The act of debating requires that we take much for granted. When my arguments stare me in the face, who blinks first? It’s a game. We play a game. But we just happen to play a game that implicates our being. Winning or losing a chess game does not make me a liar.
I am paused at the humanity portrayed by the debate community in lieu of these events. Sometimes I wonder if we are as sympathetic as we should be. There are times when we are the coldest group of individuals I’ve ever encountered. Not today, though. Must we lose more in order to understand more of ourselves? I hope not. My sanity would not last long if my debate partners, coaches or friends died unexpectedly. Needless to say, mystery clouding such a tragedy would keep me stuttering.
What is happening? It’s a sadness; a frustration and confusion at that which cannot be explained by deductive or inductive logic. The medium through which I rationalize the world collapses, and I know, too, that many others grapple with the understanding part. It is human to want to beat the bark off a tree with a baseball bat when nothing makes sense. He was so young, he was so innovative, he was a champion, he was my mentor, he was a friend and now…they aren’t? no. The barkless tree is proof of that.
What has happened? I stood, dazed in the street, cars zipping by, heads crooked to the scene as two cars lay smoking in the intersection of Rock and Harry Street. I see her, speaking to a child in the backseat. Both looked about each other, collecting evidence that the other is whole and functioning and still theirs. They sat at the side of the road and cradled their heads in their arms. I moved toward them. In a moment, she spoke to me in Spanish. She had the same question as me: are you ok? I don’t speak Spanish; don’t need to in order to understand. We hug tightly adjacent to wreckage. We’re together, faultless and alive.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Television Courtroom Strategy
If you tune into Fox at any time between 10 AM and 5 PM, you'll find a block of programming dedicated to the judicial system. These shows feature plaintiffs and defendants seeking justice without the assistance of attorneys for small, civil disputes. The judges are all certified adjudicators and feel like day time drama is the best way to put their years of extensive research on law into practice. If at some point in the future you wish to exact restitution, and believe that a television courtroom is the best route, here are some tips to ensure that justice is quickly served:
1. Be sure to bring pictures and documents. They don't have to pertain to the case at hand; in fact, they don't have to incriminate anyone for any reason. They simply have to be "telling of character". Surely your opponent has been pictured with guns, bandannas, booze or flaky women. Enlarge them to a big enough size so that the judge can clearly see that they are worthless people, even if it has nothing to do with your scratched Corolla.
2. Strength in numbers. Bring family members or friends that can attest to your moral fortitude. If the other side brings the above pictures, you'll need a rebuttal and your word won't cut it.
3. Middle of the road, you get squashed. If your opponent wears a double breasted, pin-stripe or a classy pant suit, your best option is an un-tucked Tommy Hilfiger shirt and gold necklace (imitation gold is fine. The judge won't know the difference). TV judges often conflate plaintiffs and defendants, so its good to keep their confusion to a minimum. This strategy also allows you to point out that "they're just trying to impress you. Typically they wear diapers and moo-moos (have picture handy)." If you are the one wearing the suit, then be sure and expound on the opposition's lack of tact and respect for the court.
4. Don't prepare your opening argument. 'Like' and 'um' are two of the most versatile words in the English language. They add flavor and character to your statement. Repeatedly referring to the opposition as a habitual liar and cheat drives your point home. The only thing you really need is the exact time and date of the crime in question. How else will the judge know which act is being discussed?
5. Being young is a good enough excuse. Battery is acceptable in most states for those under 17 years of age (give or take ten years). As long as you've grown up, no one can blame you for it.
6. Interrupt. Don't let them get away with that shit. This show is only 30 minutes long and justice must be served. Respond as if your enemy is speaking directly to you and not addressing the court. Judges find this to be a bold strategy and will reward you with praise. At the very least, blurt "lies" every time you hear one muttered by the opposition. The judge is keeping a tally, and if you can say "lies" more times than they can make points, you win.
7. Argue with the judge. There is a theme developing here: judges don't like push-overs. They are extremely understanding people who make decisions based on how well you handle yourself. Given this, they really can't stand people who don't assert their righteousness at every turn. Its a sign of weakness. I mean, you swore to tell the truth, right?
8. Don't sign shit. This is more of a pre-court preparation strategy. If you need to co-sign for a Honda, a loan for new tits, a lease or any other contract, then just make it verbal. No one can pin you to that.
9. So you've won, now what? Collect your money, of course! In the post-show interview, its important to continue the proceedings as if a decision was not rendered. Establish that "our [you + opponent] relationship is over". This allows you to, in the future, add harassment and emotional distress to the list of charges. After all, YOU said it was over. It can't be your fault if they run into your knife.
10. Upon returning to the courtroom for a second trial, make sure you are noticeably better-off than you were the first appearance: a nail job, clean shaven, a white t-shirt underneath the un-tucked Tommy Hilfiger shirt. Its all about appearance. After that, just follow the steps again, and you're guaranteed a ruling in your favor.
1. Be sure to bring pictures and documents. They don't have to pertain to the case at hand; in fact, they don't have to incriminate anyone for any reason. They simply have to be "telling of character". Surely your opponent has been pictured with guns, bandannas, booze or flaky women. Enlarge them to a big enough size so that the judge can clearly see that they are worthless people, even if it has nothing to do with your scratched Corolla.
2. Strength in numbers. Bring family members or friends that can attest to your moral fortitude. If the other side brings the above pictures, you'll need a rebuttal and your word won't cut it.
3. Middle of the road, you get squashed. If your opponent wears a double breasted, pin-stripe or a classy pant suit, your best option is an un-tucked Tommy Hilfiger shirt and gold necklace (imitation gold is fine. The judge won't know the difference). TV judges often conflate plaintiffs and defendants, so its good to keep their confusion to a minimum. This strategy also allows you to point out that "they're just trying to impress you. Typically they wear diapers and moo-moos (have picture handy)." If you are the one wearing the suit, then be sure and expound on the opposition's lack of tact and respect for the court.
4. Don't prepare your opening argument. 'Like' and 'um' are two of the most versatile words in the English language. They add flavor and character to your statement. Repeatedly referring to the opposition as a habitual liar and cheat drives your point home. The only thing you really need is the exact time and date of the crime in question. How else will the judge know which act is being discussed?
5. Being young is a good enough excuse. Battery is acceptable in most states for those under 17 years of age (give or take ten years). As long as you've grown up, no one can blame you for it.
6. Interrupt. Don't let them get away with that shit. This show is only 30 minutes long and justice must be served. Respond as if your enemy is speaking directly to you and not addressing the court. Judges find this to be a bold strategy and will reward you with praise. At the very least, blurt "lies" every time you hear one muttered by the opposition. The judge is keeping a tally, and if you can say "lies" more times than they can make points, you win.
7. Argue with the judge. There is a theme developing here: judges don't like push-overs. They are extremely understanding people who make decisions based on how well you handle yourself. Given this, they really can't stand people who don't assert their righteousness at every turn. Its a sign of weakness. I mean, you swore to tell the truth, right?
8. Don't sign shit. This is more of a pre-court preparation strategy. If you need to co-sign for a Honda, a loan for new tits, a lease or any other contract, then just make it verbal. No one can pin you to that.
9. So you've won, now what? Collect your money, of course! In the post-show interview, its important to continue the proceedings as if a decision was not rendered. Establish that "our [you + opponent] relationship is over". This allows you to, in the future, add harassment and emotional distress to the list of charges. After all, YOU said it was over. It can't be your fault if they run into your knife.
10. Upon returning to the courtroom for a second trial, make sure you are noticeably better-off than you were the first appearance: a nail job, clean shaven, a white t-shirt underneath the un-tucked Tommy Hilfiger shirt. Its all about appearance. After that, just follow the steps again, and you're guaranteed a ruling in your favor.
Friday, March 5, 2010
spin the shooter. he can't be human. we cannot be like him. he is conviction without restraint. he is proportionate, at the most. the weapons are still weapons. he will torture everything. his family is disappointed. if he can't reform he is without meaning. he gave up his home, career, wife and family for conviction. Despite this,he is still wrong. He is still lost. He is not what i will be. Trust me.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Monday, February 1, 2010
The Winter Sticks
Its now February and my heart is in a few scattered places. One piece is definitely here where I sit; a dark living room at 6:45 in the morning, wondering how well she sleeps. She is beyond patient. Another piece is with my family and particularly my father, whose loving voice bleeds into my thoughts. He is well by all accounts but i miss him. He worries for me. Beside him is my mother. She is feeling the days pass, not merely witnessing, and it frightens her. My sister and niece are gaining momentum. They move along together. My friends in Emporia keep a piece of me, as they hasten their departure. They are not lost but they believe they are.
The winter has been harsh. It has brought with it trouble the likes of which i have not dealt with before. It is not a crushing defeat, but its not easy either. So for the first time I dream of the April sun to mark another year not dead and the possibility that my heart, strewn across the state of Kansas, is no less whole in their hands.
The winter has been harsh. It has brought with it trouble the likes of which i have not dealt with before. It is not a crushing defeat, but its not easy either. So for the first time I dream of the April sun to mark another year not dead and the possibility that my heart, strewn across the state of Kansas, is no less whole in their hands.
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