shadows

started posting here again

http://www.youtube.com/user/chasinreveries

few new things. covers, stuff written today.
gonna try to keep it going fairly regularly

sexual remnants site, now accepting submissions.

a piece of history

watching videos that are "yes on prop 8"
really quite insane, truly a bit of history.
watch some of this video:
http://www.protectmarriage.com/video/view/6
its outrageous, the way that she does not want her kid to be exposed to "adult issues" when he is so young. The adult issue being a childern's book in which a prince marries another prince... would she call it an adult issue if the child were read a story with a king and queen? they try to maintain an open stance, they try to pretend they support gay rights, they just want to "protect" their children. protect? bah!

"playing for change"

this gave me some serious fuckin goosebumps.

the guy's name is Mark Johnson. you can watch the interview with him here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-dK3I--mKkA&feature=related

he talks about how he got the idea, what it means for him and the world and the schools he's building.


but if you wanna just see the songs here is the first one, Stand By Me:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_A_ma2h0idk

and here's what the show ends with, One Love:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DPG5wqscMjo


beautiful.

against the wall

the world is evil. it's true. and you love it. you bask in it.

i work. not because i need too. i never needed to do mushrooms either. with the same reasoning i tried working with illegal immigrants. let me report back from the reality i see:

the way it works is she can hold their pay and they can't do anything, not even feed themselves. it's slavery. i work for a slave master. she hides shit and says they stole it and she's not gonna pay them. she kills her koi and buys more with the money she's not giving them. she pays the white workers. she cycles through them like cattle. she pretends she cares about them and then she shits all over them and laughs it off. her dad's a drunk living in a giant moving van they're renting with the $11,000 they have saved up in the business account. when i discovered all this and told ceasar he didn't even react. he knows. i found out why he runs the company and works every weekend for $10 an hour. he smiles while she whips him because he has to take care of his daughters. slavery exists in a more real sense then you complaining about having to work at starbucks.

Well, I wake in the morning,
Fold my hands and pray for rain.
I got a head full of ideas
That are drivin' me insane.
It's a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor.

that fucking bitch exists and you don't even care
because everyone is racist.
this is what i'm up against.

zeus bolts & trudge

Zeus bolts

got the tail on the donkey
pinned, missed the spot
smacked my skull when i was strong
faked a war when i fought

fished paddles from a pond
upstream, eating flesh
cold pirhana life sinking ships
captain, a noose
flags, a ruse
the fast the fact you choose
pry a heart to shove a goddamn Zeus bolt of
conquest
blue fools

poster heroes, bloody veins crooked
seeping yesterday's life with a pirhouette
and a dip into streams of consciousness
skipping stones
wondering where to go
stop the world
gooey guitars mangled from blistering fingers
been too long
spinning worlds halting, one collides
dradle twirls on my holiday hair

friends who twinkle in their florescent chambers
squeezing out crusty convictions
throwing a contradiction like a boomerang
and cutting off your grip on the slippery globe



Trudge

grilled skin
pink to my steel bones
brushing indifference over a fucked canvas.

it's all a sloppy second
biting at my bursting bubble.
i'm hungry
vomiting feral strokes to cover costumes of permanence:

time spit the river
time fucked virginity
time crushes the diamond

--man in scottish dress shoots
white plates in the sky
raining over sprouting landscapes.
water over a desert wanderer
muddy socks, wiggling my toes, catching my breath from the air-

i'm sopping wet with my forevers
snorting the blues through harmonicas in a minor
grinding the squeeze
licking up the in betweens/
i'm gonna wrap up the extremes
take them to the dogs

got a funeral in my body
hearst carving up my arteries,
death crafts the flesh road
brain cut with cheap prose,
and lizard lexicons.
i shake hands with a wizard who takes my coat
gives my knees a shine
asks about the days where i carried a past
asks about the wherever in the supposed to be
and cackles when i say i sculpted lies out of truths in reveries
he says remember me and
sends me off in a rocket
baggage dropping out my skin pockets
like crumbs off my tie after apple pie.

lunch

the desert sessions and grumble

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Desert_Sessions

will let you know how they are.
getting them now.


grumble

if ya turn faces
and split ideas
for 8 cents a piece
sell the crumbs
for saliva
and zinfandel
over a bloody sunset
sprinkled with fog and water rays
you might find yourself
hanging on the edge of some
rumbling hunger
for the line
that splits your whispers for something
into grumbling nothings

"America"...a poem by Allen Ginsberg

"America I've given you all and now I'm nothing.
America two dollars and twentyseven cents January
17, 1956.
I can't stand my own mind.
America when will we end the human war?
Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb.
I don't feel good don't bother me.
I won't write my poem till I'm in my right mind.
America when will you be angelic?
When will you take off your clothes?
When will you look at yourself through the grave?
When will you be worthy of your million Trotskyites?
America why are your libraries full of tears?
America when will you send your eggs to India?
I'm sick of your insane demands.
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I
need with my good looks?
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not
the next world.
Your machinery is too much for me.
You made me want to be a saint.
There must be some other way to settle this argument.
Burroughs is in Tangiers I don't think he'll come back
it's sinister.
Are you being sinister or is this some form of practical
joke?
I'm trying to come to the point.
I refuse to give up my obsession.
America stop pushing I know what I'm doing.
America the plum blossoms are falling.
I haven't read the newspapers for months, everyday
somebody goes on trial for murder.
America I feel sentimental about the Wobblies.
America I used to be a communist when I was a kid
I'm not sorry.
I smoke marijuana every chance I get.
I sit in my house for days on end and stare at the roses
in the closet.
When I go to Chinatown I get drunk and never get laid.
My mind is made up there's going to be trouble.
You should have seen me reading Marx.
My psychoanalyst thinks I'm perfectly right.
I won't say the Lord's Prayer.
I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations.
America I still haven't told you what you did to Uncle
Max after he came over from Russia.

I'm addressing you.
Are you going to let your emotional life be run by
Time Magazine?
I'm obsessed by Time Magazine.
I read it every week.
Its cover stares at me every time I slink past the corner
candystore.
I read it in the basement of the Berkeley Public Library.
It's always telling me about responsibility. Business-
men are serious. Movie producers are serious.
Everybody's serious but me.
It occurs to me that I am America.
I am talking to myself again.

Asia is rising against me.
I haven't got a chinaman's chance.
I'd better consider my national resources.
My national resources consist of two joints of
marijuana millions of genitals an unpublishable
private literature that goes 1400 miles an hour
and twenty-five-thousand mental institutions.
I say nothing about my prisons nor the millions of
underprivileged who live in my flowerpots
under the light of five hundred suns.
I have abolished the whorehouses of France, Tangiers
is the next to go.
My ambition is to be President despite the fact that
I'm a Catholic.
America how can I write a holy litany in your silly
mood?
I will continue like Henry Ford my strophes are as
individual as his automobiles more so they're
all different sexes.
America I will sell you strophes $2500 apiece $500
down on your old strophe
America free Tom Mooney
America save the Spanish Loyalists
America Sacco & Vanzetti must not die
America I am the Scottsboro boys.
America when I was seven momma took me to Com-
munist Cell meetings they sold us garbanzos a
handful per ticket a ticket costs a nickel and the
speeches were free everybody was angelic and
sentimental about the workers it was all so sin-
cere you have no idea what a good thing the
party was in 1835 Scott Nearing was a grand
old man a real mensch Mother Bloor made me
cry I once saw Israel Amter plain. Everybody
must have been a spy.
America you don't really want to go to war.
America it's them bad Russians.
Them Russians them Russians and them Chinamen.
And them Russians.
The Russia wants to eat us alive. The Russia's power
mad. She wants to take our cars from out our
garages.
Her wants to grab Chicago. Her needs a Red Readers'
Digest. Her wants our auto plants in Siberia.
Him big bureaucracy running our fillingsta-
tions.
That no good. Ugh. Him make Indians learn read.
Him need big black niggers. Hah. Her make us
all work sixteen hours a day. Help.
America this is quite serious.
America this is the impression I get from looking in
the television set.
America is this correct?
I'd better get right down to the job.
It's true I don't want to join the Army or turn lathes
in precision parts factories, I'm nearsighted and
psychopathic anyway.
America I'm putting my queer shoulder to the wheel."

Berkeley, January 17, 1956

a ridiculous statistic:

"Of the $20,000,000,000 worth of U. S. property exempt from taxation, nearly one quarter is owned by churches."
from: http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,787795,00.html?promoid=googlep


in other news, it's easy to say that things are nice, it's valuable to argue why they aren't and it's good to remember that an idea may not be attached and growing from the individual who throws it up. some ideas are like 15 shots of whiskey. you can only hold em in for so long til you gots to get em out. but the drunk could've been good. anyways. sometimes a night spent on the toilet is good for your life.

tattoo

your vote:

http://www.pbs.org/moyers/journal/10172008/watch3.html


from http://www.pbs.org/moyers/journal/index-flash.html
really good stuff

also related:
http://www.rollingstone.com/politics/story/23638322/block_the_vote

another scanner session

girl

girl

girls

the media

they told me killer bees
were coming.
they told me
i'm insane.
they told me i want everything,
and to always be the same.

i told them i liked the weather;
i don't care who's insane.

a letter from the bank.

shit on politics

completely fascinates me.
it's such a load of shit mixed up with such skill, such stupidity, such shrewdness...
there are too many webs and nobody can completely understand what's going on.

a few things:

trickle down economics (reagan, bush, mccain - basically a big drout for everyone except the white dudes at the top who bath in green showers)----------->>>>>trickle up economics (people who care. also, i don't know if this is a real term)...
but this is bottom up. this must be the way to go.

language in politics, a few excerpts:
"Karl Rove—along with predecessors like Lee Atwater and protégés like Steve Schmidt—long ago showed the Republicans that language is slippery, fluid, a river into which you can dump anything at all as long as your opponent is the one downstream. And, to be fair, those who affect to despise words have been more skillful than their opponents not just at amoral manipulation but at the creation of what Orwell called “a fresh, vivid, home-made turn of speech.”"
"Or take McCain’s slogan “The Original Maverick,” now attached to many of the campaign’s ads. It cynically stipulates that politics is just merchandise, by sounding as close to a logo or a brand name as possible. But it also understands that consumers trust brands that sound like “quality.” Thus “Original,” which has the reassuring solidity of something like “Serving Americans of discernment since 1851,” or, indeed, “Levi’s 501: Original Jeans.” In such formulations, “Original” means eccentric, strange, unusual, and also first, best, belatedly copied by others. Better still, the phrase sounds like the tagline from a movie poster; not for nothing has McCain taken to announcing that “change is coming soon, to a district near you.”"

and this is the lovely sarah palin when asked by sean hannity, one of the big bastards of fox news, about obamas attack on mccain's statement about the fundamentals of the economy being strong: "“Well,” Palin said, “it was an unfair attack on the verbage that Senator McCain chose to use, because the fundamentals, as he was having to explain afterwards, he means our workforce, he means the ingenuity of the American people. And of course that is strong, and that is the foundation of our economy. So that was an unfair attack there, again, based on verbage that John McCain used.” This is certainly doing rather than mere talking, and what is being done is the coinage of “verbage.” It would be hard to find a better example of the Republican disdain for words than that remarkable term, so close to garbage, so far from language."


i think this thing on language is huge.
im out for now.

the damned reality of laptop lovers

i lay here
deprived of sleep
and immobile,
i feel the warmth
of my silicon head.
it has pulse and breathes
and is warm with electric flow.
i lay dormant and watch dreams from the conscious
float past my globe finding eyes.
will it become more
in the future
(where we already are in our heads)?
you see,
once when a man sailed to the end
of the earth he was very startled
to find he was where he had started only
everything was changed some.
in this way we run across the sphere of time.
perhaps this addiction to
silicon will become
a way to dream collectively.

organized religion and its customers

organized religion as a sort of corporation
moving to the third world for new 'customers'

2 things before sleep

watching something about hollywood and where the power lies.
no longer does it lie in a few producers or a few directors...
there are the same traps of power but it operates in a more diffuse manner.
i think this is relevant to all aspects of society.
who pushes the buttons?
even these big corporate dudes...they're just pawns of something or somebody else.
we need to question power
over and over again
this is one of the most important things...this (probably) creates us, fucks us and makes us happy.


also, when we call for diversity - the color of your skin or your gender does not necessarily make you different from someone else. at least not in any big way.
we've got some 'diversity' in congress and all those nasty political scenes. but everybody thinks the same fucking way.

ThoughtDiversity.

this was sent to me:

"

> WOW! This article sure explains it all:
>
> This is the absolute best explanation of how our tax system is "supposed" to work. It comes from an Economics professor at the University of Georgia. I encourage you to take the two minutes to read this brilliant explanation, it is well worth the read.
>
>
> Suppose that every day, ten men go out for beer and the bill for all ten comes to $100. If they paid their bill the way we pay our taxes, it would go something like this:
>
> The first four men (the poorest) would pay nothing.
> The fifth would pay $1.
> The sixth would pay $3.
> The seventh would pay $7.
> The eighth would pay $12.
> The ninth would pay $18.
> The tenth man (the richest) would pay $59.
>
> So, that's what they decided to do. The ten men drank in the bar every day and seemed quite happy with the arrangement, until one day, the owner threw them a curve. 'Since you are all such good customers, he said, 'I'm going to reduce the cost of your daily beer by $20. Drinks for the ten now cost just $80. The group still wanted to pay their bill the way we pay our taxes so the first four men were unaffected. They would still drink for free. But what about the other six men - the paying customers? How could they divide the $20 windfall so that everyone would get his 'fair share?' They realized that $20 divided by six is $3.33. But if they subtracted that from everybody's share, then the fifth man and the sixth man would each end up being paid to drink his beer. So, the bar owner suggested that it would be fair to reduce each man's bill by roughly the same amount, and he proceeded to work out the amounts each should pay.!
>
> And so:
>
> The fifth man, like the first four, now paid nothing (100% savings).
> The sixth now paid $2 instead of $3 (33%savings).
> The seventh now pay $5 instead of $7 (28%savings).
> The eighth now paid $9 instead of $12 (25% savings).
> The ninth now paid $14 instead of $18 (22% savings).
> The tenth now paid $49 instead of $59 (16% savings).
>
>
> Each of the six was better off than before. And the first four continued to drink for free. But once outside the restaurant, the men began to compare their savings. 'I only got a dollar out of the $20,'declared the sixth man. He pointed to the tenth man,' but he got $10!' 'Yeah, that's right,' exclaimed the fifth man. 'I only saved a dollar, too. It's unfair that he got ten times more than I!' 'That's true!!' shouted the seventh man. 'Why should he get $10 back when I got only two? The wealthy get all the breaks!' 'Wait a minute,' yelled the first four men in unison. 'We didn't get
> anything at all. The system exploits the poor!' The nine men surrounded the tenth and beat him up. The next night the tenth man didn't show up for drinks, so the nine sat down and had beers without him. But when it came time to pay the bill, they discovered something important. They didn't have enough money between all of them for even half of the bill! And that, boys and girls, journalists and college professors, is how our tax system works. The people who pay the highest taxes get the most benefit from a tax reduction. Tax them too much, attack them for being wealthy, and they just may not show up anymore. In fact, they might start drinking overseas where the atmosphere is somewhat friendlier.
>
> David R. Kamerschen, Ph.D.
> Professor of Economics, University of Georgia
>
> For those who understand, no explanation is needed.
> For those who do not understand, no explanation is possible."


i responded: "i see the point. it makes some sense.
but it's not by any means an 'explanation' of the way the system works.
you can't just explain a tax system in a few paragraphs.
that was an explanation designed to justify rich people getting enormous tax cuts.
plus when you're dealing with real money it isn't 100$. it's fucking millions. i'm sure things would seem different if the numbers were a bit more realistic.
and if they started talking about real shit instead of beer. like what a poor person can and can't afford. like a house. and food. and health care.
and what a rich person can afford. like 5 houses, a cook and good health care.
and then they still get huge tax cuts. while people suffer.

the rich people wouldn't have any money if it wasn't for the poor people, the middle class people.
maybe the poor would stop drinking beer and the rich would be stuck with a bunch of beer, getting wasted, taking loans they can't pay from companies and people who don't have money, sucking each other off while they take turns massaging each other's backs with olive oil imported from italy.

this explanation is a load of shit"



i'd like to get more responses?...
ok
good day.

warning sign generator

farmer's market

infinitum requests

judas'

sometimes i'll feel very good
like a hindu god reincarnated
i can taste the feelings in the back of my brain
my swagger becomes autistic and
i have no secrets.
sometimes i'll feel this way
and i call on a friend, but
i have forgotten
that alcohol can be your worst enemy
and the definition of this type of friend
is one that brings you down,
a dolly dagger wielding fiend
more ready to feed you and piss in your face
then forgive your prowess.
this friend is the only one;
this type can stand.
these friends are R's away
fiends capable.

mr. art

oh you're an artist
now i see
now i see how careful i must be
not to care
now i see the difference between pretentious
and ambitious.
still in reality,
everything you say is bullshit.
whenever we are starving,
we end up eating you first.
your use is self generated
and your purpose is exasperated.
you remind me very much of the universe
you worthless, cowardly, cynical fuck.
and to this you think i like a good beating,
i like gaining everything and losing nothing
i have no regret except feigning remorse,
still there is no way of ignoring
how confused you are
trapped
in your own little world.
votre monde magnifique.

missing link

i'd like to propose an insane notion. perhaps we are the aliens to this planet. we can obviously control it with our physical will, and i have strong reason to believe that we control it with our mental wills as well. walk around one day and see everyone being genuinely open. all life in existence represents itself. trees dance in the wind because they are free, we dance in the sound when we are free.

this orbiting mass is a home for life and in our confusion we believe we are superior, even though it's bigger than us. i'm not even going to get into how we are all being controlled but i'll leave with this, have you ever considered the notion that you are what an alien looks like?

tame more?

(we have tamed the lion
we have tamed the wolf)

from God

would you see
where i was coming from
if i told you that
by getting you to hate me
you would want me for what i'm truly best at
and in that way you would provide me with a strength
love cannot

a religous man will love me in order to forget this
loves greatest bounty is ignorance.

people sea

people see you
exactly as you see people.
you see people
exactly as people see you.
however,
you do not see you
as people see people.
people don't see people,
you only see people.

how write poems

it's not hard to write a poem
like this.
let whatever it is you think
spiral around in that
brain of yours
and continue to spiral
and continue to spiral
and continue to spiral
until you can't remember where it is you started
mexico somewhere
perhaps. oh, adios is 'to god'.
and then get it down
as sweetly as
you can.

some kind of paranoia

if i tried
i couldn't act
like more of a fool.
it's as if i can tell
what will most dissapoint you
and even this will:
if i tried
i couldn't become
something greater than an ego.
it's as if by trying
to do anything at all
you've failed at accomplishing.
you were too busy trying.

and this

sdpqwkmfn;f;jkdsngdfgwmpkfskdlgnmlknmqgbvykc;egokjsdfn

discoveries after having the internet broke for days

what's not to say
everything is as free
as you claim
to be.
the purr
what if everything can purr
is the suggestion.
if you stop and
listen everything can purr.


there are things it wants to do.
why does it want.
because it wants it to(o).


you look at a tree and think of yourself
looking at a tree.
the tree looks at you and thinks
you are scared to die.


if you whistle
what you mean to say
or that is to say
if you say
what you mean to say
in your head, say
while you whistle
you sound exactly like a bird.


life is a constant remembering
though as a child
you tell yourself to forget this.

Local TV Appearance...

they captured me on a machine, and broadcast my words and images...

see blog post and News clip here

or go strait to the news clip

Project Lajo proposal/preview

Over the past 8 weeks, with the help of Calit2 and CRCA, I have been working to define some techniques for producing a 4K digital film using consumer level cameras. I have now completed the research portion of my project, establishing several different production techniques/workflows and generally getting comfortable working with high resolution video. At this point I am prepared to continue working on a finalized 4k film project.

The film will focus on the complex and existential tension that emerges in response to neo-urban life in the southern California land/data scape. More and more life in this region is fragmented, occurring simultaneously in physical and virtual spaces. In my film, concepts of time and movement will be re-examined and evaluated in terms of their effects on the somatic, cogno-somatic and data-somatic architectures.

To produce this film I am requesting CRCA/Calit2 support in the form of access to a mac computer equipped with Final Cut Pro studio, and (if possible) Adobe After Effects. I would ideally like to schedule 10-20 hours of computer time per week. This project will be completed by the end of fall quarter (December 19).

Advising me on this project will be visual arts professor and Calit2 investigator Ricardo Dominguez.
I will also be collaborating with UCSD music major Micky Drummond, to produce a soundtrack.

where's it all going. going, all it is.

i like sitting in a really large living room with a grand piano, slamming the pedal down to the floor so the notes ooze and crawl and bounce around the room.
and then i scream.

keep exploring this new territory.

this: figuring out the big thing with the 12 notes laid out in front of you like a whore with legs spread.
new tempos, new structures, new layers, harmonies...
my wrists are stronger.
today i hit the chords hard.
then i go to my computer with the other keyboard which is not so sexy and play as many instruments as i feel are necessary.
today i put on headphones and sang to chords, dancing around the room, falling to the floor, crawling around. trying to Be the melody.

this is a weird freedom.
i want to go home and i am home.
i want work but i'm working.
i want to travel and i leave tomorrow.

many things are building up.
i sense strange vibes
but i keep getting so excited.

lull.