A nice rainy day today. I have noticed over the years that I like being woken up by thunder. I usually can sleep through anything, so the thunder has to either be extremely loud, or be happening late in my sleep cycle when I was about to get up anyways. Waking up that way just immediately sets a tone for my entire day. It breaks up the continuity of my quintessence. It's a thread of common experience that all humanity beneath the storm can share. My fondest memories are waiting in the dark for the power to come back on. That's one downside to living in the city, moderate consistency of utilities. Well, as long as you live near white people that is.
Speaking of rain, Tristram wrote a new song recently entitled "Heavy Rain." It is based on: A dream I had, the recent kidnapping of a local girl and a video game with the same title. It really gives me the heebie geebie lemon squeezies to think about kidnapping. The unknown is what scares me about it. If someone just shows up and stabs me to death, I can get that. One and done, stab and slab, prick and dick if you will. But to take me or anyone else and just do Kerry King knows what, that is what gets to me. Of course we all have heard of the recent case in Cleveland where a man abducted those women and had kept them in his house for almost a decade. In this day and age, the idea that things like that could happen blows my damn mind. I hate kidnapping, that is one thing that I do not think is coo. If X-Men were real, I would want to be Professor Xavier and use that sweet ass machine to track down every kidnapper/rapist/murdering asshole and make their brains explode. When I was a kid I used to wish upon a star that I could be a vampire, or that X-Men would be real and my power would be like Dante from "Devil May Cry." I know that's stupid, but I would use my demon powers to make sure shitbag kidnappers got ween slapped hard. Fuck those people. These are my thoughts late at night when I wait for the Sandman to spoon me...
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| If you have not played this game, please do. |
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As I suspected, it's been fucking done.
Give the fuck up. |
And now to switch it up, let me tell you about something I witnessed the other day. I was at my place of employment at 6 in the morning. We recently acquired outside patio furniture that now has to be unlocked and set up every morning. Yeah, honks ass. Anywho, I was out in the cold blustery winds of a Michigan May morning and a young yuppie hipster couple walked by. I thought nothing of it and went on with my business. Then I noticed they got about half a block away and they stopped. They talked for a moment and then kept walking for a few seconds then stopped again. They squabbled for a minute then she began walking back towards me and left the King of Carrot Boners where he stood. She walked past me, pulled out her camera (because of course she always has her camera handy) and took a picture of something out of my line of site. She then put her gear away and walked back to her pal and back on the path of righteous Bohemia. My curiosity was peaked and so I walked over to what she took a picture of and was bewildered. It was a crushed Boxed Water container. That's it, the dregs of some yup-truck being documented by some bombastic beatnik. That is art nowadays. Think about this situation, it's 6 am, they walk past this "street art" and had to stop and turn around because she would be unable to live with herself the rest of the day for passing up the opportunity to capture the essence of such a grandiose piece of abstraction. Fuck art. I should specify, fuck conventional, pleasing, white people think it's just dandy art. If it doesn't challenge you, stir something inside you or disturb you then it's just paste. Lies enriched, homogenized, and monetized paste. Alienation is art. Aliens are art. Paint the red green, flip want and greed. Make this scene mean. That's my rap on that. Conky out.
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