skies tuned to a dead channel.
- Works Every Time
If I were a marketing genius in charge of the relaunch of a classic brand (used loosely of course) last nights foray would be a textbook example of how a perfectly shitty beer can actually live up to its slogan. I’m not here to evangelize when it comes to Colt 45. Quite the [...]
- The League of Somewhat Ordinary Gentlemen
No one cares what you are doing. And when I say that, I say that somewhat ironically as I’m probably the worst offender of such things. I mean for fuck’s sake I’m sitting on my stoop writing a blog that starts off with that as the first sentence. If there’s a first rule or secret [...]
- Clear
So I’ve been having this weird intersection of curiosities blinking in and out on the horizon, inextricably linked together by the book I picked up at a yard sale by Nicola Barker entitled “Clear.” I’ve been drowned in that book rather intently on the street, to the point of getting run over. I had little [...]
- What a drag.
“The television’s gone… and I’m alone with lucifer… what a drag.”
Upon further investigation of the narratives that have gone on inside my brain the last weeks, I found it necessary to return to some sort of form. That form might seem formless and for that I’m jumping up and down like some ritalin addicted sloth [...]
- Count Zero
Its hard sometimes to hit the right tone with an entry. I considered just simply titling it “I’m Count Fucking Dracula” and leaving it at that. Then I would proceed rambling nonsensically like I usually do like a semiprofessional breakdancer consumed by wafts of crack smoke. And you know, it probably would have been another [...]
- Loudness.
One of the bigger problems with the speed of which things transpire in the urbane is the lack of time for quality reflection. There isn’t much connection made of experiences when you are stuck in micro blog mode or facebook trolling of which both I’m a repeat offender. What opinions that evokes in people matters [...]
- The Legend of the Bulletproof Mandana or The New Stanford Prison Experiment
Last night, watching the opening scene to the Brood, I was enamored by Oliver Reed’s grandiose interchange with an aging Zak Galifianakis clone. Its so fucking over the top and intense, true to the spirit of Mr. Reed who was incidentally a raging alcoholic. I instantly figured that I had to become a fan of Oliver [...]
- Bitter Harvest (draft)
PREFACE: this is an excerpt from a work in progress inspired by the concept of data mining. Its always been this weird passion of mine that the more data you archive inside the net, the more possible it is to recreate a sort of puppet of your own logic. However real and individual that is [...]
- The Ten Percent Nation of Hipsters.
It really didn’t all hit me until the slow burn of the weekend faded into the Monday morning hum; the jokes of what seemed to be lurking on all of our collective urbane minds. These were the stories of some mentally unstable Korean girl with a penchant for tattoos and hirsute affairs, grifting her way [...]
- This is urban living.
There is only so much Billy Squier you can listen to until your mind decays into a puddle of evolutionary goo. And here I am, like some middle aged mutant ninja turtle dipping deep into the vats of neon trying to hack and destabilize the life handed out in the soup kitchen line. Its way [...]
