Friday, September 26, 2014

Bible Biography, Mystic Myth, Juicy Journal

Keeping the cred.
I went out thrifting the other day and actually found some really cool stuff. I found a genuine silver soap dish thingy that I am going to use for holding picks on my desk, a small old wooden box I will use for keeping tiny treasure in and finally a Bible that was published in 1855. I know what you're all thinking, "Yo I think Zach is losing his damn Maggot mind bro!" I assure you, you are mistaken. Firstly the book itself is trashed. It's beat to shit and the cover has been torn from the binding. Time has seen to it's desecration. It was in a display case and I asked the woman if I could see it and upon closer inspection I said aloud, "It's in pretty rough shape..." Thereby the woman responded with, "Well that's a good thing! That means it got used!" Of course in that moment my face tore open and my hellion host burst out and puked lava bile all over her and she melted as her screams echoed endlessly to the empty heavens. In actuality I merely restrained myself by stabbing myself in the leg with a ceremonial dagger I keep on hand in times of crisis. But I did end up buying it and it has been fascinating to turn through the pages and think about the hands that held this book. Nikola Tesla was born a year after this book was made and he lived and died his entire time on this Earth in the span of this books existence. The North and South were just starting to get pissed at each other as the American Civil War didn't commence until 1861. I don't know about you, but that shit blows my fucking mind. Maybe a Chaplin braved the battle fields casting restoration spells on fallen comrades. Perhaps a dragon swept down and he was forced to used a master level destruction spell to fell the irreverent beast! Whoops sorry, still been playing Skyrim a lot lately. All in all I don't usually get too caught up in collecting historical artifacts but this is easily the oldest thing I own and probably will be for a long time. And I am glad a heathen like me was able to swoop in and keep it from a pious shit-pisser who would attenuate the appreciation of this item. Now I just need Kerry King to autograph it and then I'll really have something.

A mystic medicine man.
Speaking of unholy atrocity and shit, the fall solstice was a few days ago. This brought about some new vigor for me in many different ways. First of all, I put little stock in the powers of astrology, the Moon cycles, solar activity, time between bowel movements, crystal resonance, atmospheric oscillations, jerking off upside down or whether the ground hog sees his shadow or not. But I do accept the unimaginable naiveté that the human experience befalls us so I leave the door open that all these things may be a piece to the incalculable enigma that is the universe and the impact it could have on us in unfathomable ways. That being said; fuck Moon children, Earth descendants, Sun sprouts or any other occult denominations. I give you pagans an extra mile on things because you we're here first and I would begrudgingly rather be trapped on a deserted island with you than Johnny McChrist-Humper any day of the week. But once you've reached the age of reason it's time to drop the shit and crawl out from under that rock just like any other delusional neophyte. And I hate to sound contradictory, but hey I am just some fucker from Conklin so please disregard all of this, I am just here to help. If there is one thing I am, it's a person who loves helping others. But I found an image the other day that had to do with "Moon symbols." Who knows what the fuck that means, but I did find it interesting to learn about the different symbols and what they meant. I used to be under the "Carlinian" philosophy of, "Leave symbols to the symbol-minded." But I think symbols can be a compelling and authoritative aspect of culture. Which can be both marvelous and malignant all at once. So I have grown to appreciate symbols for their caprice and almost supernatural influence. So I occasionally enjoy reading a horoscope or hearing whether or not Jupiter's 3rd moon is going to fuck me over this week. But I don't let it degrade my sense of reason and should be taken in with scrutiny and a distance to see things for what they are. Because remember, all of this is just shit someone made up. It's all make believe. But make believe can be fun every now and then. I can't wait till I can go slay more dragons when I'm done with this stupid post.

Footage from a recent
Jucifer show.
As I often do, I will leave you all with a short update about Ruined and the progress we are making. We have finally booked a show at The Pyramid Scheme October 6th opening for Jucifer. We are playing a completely brand new song that we have been working on for a while now that will hopefully go off well. (I must admit, every bar show I have ever played has gone horribly array so I am mildly nervous about that.) But Sky and I are both excited to play this show and to finally play a local show that we might actually, sort of, kind of fit the bill a little bit. Obviously vocally we are a whimpy fuckhead band but I think we might be vaguely in the unholy realm of similarity when it comes to our overall sound. But of course Jucifer will obliterate all opposition and will turn your vital organs into liquid shit. So come on out if you feel like dying slowly while the trembling thunder of their amplifiers ruptures the ground beneath you as your life-force pools at your feet and spills into the Earth. Until finally your bones crumble and you are left nothing more than an ashen waste. If that sounds like fun, here's the event page for the show and come on down! (JUCIFER EVENT PAGE)

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Northern Renaissance, Calm Before The Norms, If He Had A Rich Man In His Hand

Mmm...Pistol Whip...
It has been another rousing week for this Renaissance man. Kerry King I wish I was a Renaissance man; I would write poetry while reading physics books and swim across Lake Superior using my bass as a flotation device/creative output . I have been so envious of others and wallowing a lot lately. Which is great stimulation for personal innovation but nonetheless I am left wanting more from life. Everywhere I look it seems that acquaintances are off on some great adventure or making plans for their next one. Everyone around me tells me I am being too clamorous and that I can't have music be the paramount of my existence. But honestly unless I am on tour, recovering from a tour or booking the next tour I am pretty much a barren shell; an astringent apparition clutching to evanescent memories. So basically until I can afford a van I am going to keep whining and complaining on here over and over again about the same shit and how now one likes me or my shitty band. I apologize in advance for having to deal with that. I did just start a new character in "Skyrim" though so I guess that I do have some adventures waiting for me. Nothing soothes the soul quite like slaying a dragon. Except maybe not being a loser and doing something with my life instead of writing about how much I hate everything. I should be pistol whipped until I forget all about my fruitless aspirations. Fuck it, do it live.

Me during ArtPrize.
Confused and imbalanced.
Speaking of the Renaissance and hating everything, ArtPrize is upon us once again! By this time next week I will be neck deep in yuppie shit-monocles. For those of you who don't live in or around Grand Rapids, ArtPrize is a yearly "art competition" where a bunch of fucking mouth-breathers swarm our city for 2 weeks and everyone gets to vote for the best artwork and the winner get's $200,000 to go create more inconsequential, knavish bullshit devoid of any relevance or cultural importance. I have complained about this the past couple of years but I have to lament and express my pure unadulterated malice I have for this shit. First of all, 98% of the entire American population are complete, absolute, outright fucking insensate imbeciles. 80% of those people live in the Midwest. So whom better to judge the "artistic expression" of the aristocracy than the beguiled brutes of Middle America? But honestly, I wouldn't mind the proverbial upper middle class "circle jerk" known as ArtPrize so much if it just didn't affect me so much on a daily basis. These vacuous automatons meander into my place of work every single moment of every single day for the duration of this tragically hallowed gala. They almost look human, aside from the fact that they feed their progeny motor oil and that their skin is actually liquid mercury. The key is to look into their dead eyes, that's the easiest way to spot them. Sometimes it is hard though because they often refrain from making eye contact and prefer to look back at their tedious compatriots while transferring their credit cards. Kerry King forbid they look at you when they have important business to attend to or while downloading new updates from the inane Hive Mind that tells them how to live everyday. You are nothing more than a vending machine to them. Remember, they believe they own you. And ArtPrize is nothing more than a colossal reminder that what is considered stirring and ingenious to the masses is nothing but a vapid identity spilled upon canvas. Once again though, I wouldn't have it any other way. True art and expression should always be buried beneath the bastions of orthodox scrutiny. I say let them toil in their trivial endeavors; the creative pool spirals fastest before the drain. Just stay the fuck away from me.

This is what I see when I take an order.
"But I being poor have only my dreams..."
All this talk about how the average person lives actually makes me feel a lot better about my own stake in life! Sure I am just an idiot who plays bass and wishes I was cool but thank Kerry King I am not working in some office worrying about T.P.S. reports or drudging around the water cooler talking about frivolous trite.And sometimes I wish I had gone further with my schooling and I think for a lot of people they are able to find purpose and meaning in their education and I truly applaud them for that. As William Butler Yeats once said, "Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire." But almost any career I would have chosen I know I would have been forever miserable and live with constant regret. If for nothing else, just imagining the people I would have to surround myself with would be enough to make me retch into a recycling bin every day. I have said this many times and I am sure I will say it many time more, but to me life is about acquiring a wealth of experiences and not experiencing the amenities of wealth. I guess my point is that being poor you gain more character and as long as you enjoy the few joys you may have then you will be a better person for it. In summation, just stay fucking gloomy.

"Who would be a poor man, a beggarman, a thief?"

Thursday, September 11, 2014

Musky And Muscle-y, Husky and Gloomy, Nerdy and Fucky

Look into the abyss.
And the abyss stares back.
Woke up later than expected this morning. It was our first officially cold morning here in Michigan. It was nice to throw pajama pants on and a Pokemon sweater right away and head downstairs to brew some nice hot coffee. I have been anxious to jump into the Fall framework this year and have acquired provisions for this most gratifying season. I went into Yankee Candle the other day and bought a few Fall themed candles to get in the spirit of things. I walked in and it was only myself and the clerk which I always find myself walking on egg shells in a place like that. First of all, the last time I was in there I broke a 30 dollar candle on accident because I lifted from the lid like an idiot. But also I am of course looking like a Maggot and wondering around the store trying to let my olfactories take in all the emanations. I could tell the clerk was nervous and assumed that I planned to make a "Five Finger Discount" for myself whereby she would have to give me the "Five Finger Death Punch." A battle would ensue in the Yankee Candle Fortress and the Candle Commandos would rush in but I would cut them off at the bridge that allowed passage over the great Melted Wax Moat. Alas eventually I would be overwhelmed and would be trapped in a giant jar where I would await my "scentence." I would be transmogrified into an exclusive scent and sold to the Scent Barons for my transgressions. He who controls the scent, controls the universe. Which beckons the question, if you were made into a Yankee Candle; what would your scent be? They had all kinds of crazy ass scents, one section being limited to only "Man Scents." Which for any of you who don't frequent the land of Yankee Candle the scents included: Mmm Bacon, Man Town, Ale Beer and of course Camouflage. Who the fuck would want their house to smell like bacon? I work in food service, believe me you don't want your clothes smelling like bacon. "Yes I am looking for a candle that is between "Rotting Corpse" and "Tar Pit," any suggestions?" "...Right this way..." And what would "Camouflage" smell like? I would imagine it would have to be what Predator's dreads smelled like. Or Arnold Schwarzenegger covered in mud. Either way, win win right there. I would have to imagine my scent would have to be somewhere between "Burnt Bible" and "Blood Soaked Urinal." The possibilities are endless. But eventually I broke the ice with the clerk when I noticed a 300 dollar candle keg and had to inquire about it. She seemed extremely bored and told me all about this legendary candle. Apparently she has only ever seen one person by one of these and that is burns for over 115 hours and that she is constantly telling people to put it down because they want to take selfies with it and that...hmm...I just realized I have spent an exorbitant amount of time talking about my visit to Yankee Candle. I guess I need to get out more.
Bet that'd smell good.
My childhood.
Moving on! What else can I waste your time with...I suppose it should be mentioned that today is of course the anniversary of the World Trade Center attacks. I don't feel like going on a long rant about that but I will let George Carlin rant for me in the video below. It has also been three years since my Grandpa passed away. He was a good guy who in coalescence with my Grandmother taught me a lot about compassion and the symbiosis that humans can find with animals. My Grandpa and Grandma ran a rescue for Siberian Huskies and my Grandfather was at the time of his death the oldest dogsled racer in Michigan.  I always had such a mystic and whimsical fascination and admiration with my Grandparents unwavering love they had for another species and that stuck with me. As in most cases you don't realize how much someone affected your life until you are no longer able to tell them so. Many of you may know by now I am not very vocal about the things I love and focus more so on the things I despise. And I don't expect most people to understand my perspectives on things. But I feel that I am actually a very compassionate person though I may be private about my feelings more often than not. And I am not embarrassed or discouraged to express those feelings when they come to be. But I just hope that the few people I do care about know that I think of them often and am consumed by longing and regret for my absence from their lives.

Gone too soon.

I searched "RPG Nerd"
and found this.
Wow that got way more cereal than I intended. Lets keep this gloom train rolling! I will leave off with once again a small Ruined update. We practiced last night for the first time in a while but we have a set time slot now so we will hopefully be burning through new material at a much faster pace. We have the pieces aligned for most of the material that will be on our upcoming full length. It will probably be a couple more months before we hit the studio but I see the twinklings of magical gloom fairy dust peaking upon the horizon. Fall will forever be my most creative and ambitious time of year. Something about everything dying and the impeding winter of woe really kicks me in the ass and makes me want to play more. In fact I also got a new fuzz pedal last night which sounds really fucking cool. I used to think I would never be a pedal board guy but it has been so much fun researching and finding new and exciting pieces to add to my gloom arsenal. It is a lot like gearing a character in an RPG but in real life! I have my "6-String Axe of Anguish" with +666 Heresy Bonus and instant Mana Burn. My "Delay Pedal of Lost Memories" that saps Mental Health Regeneration for all I come in contact with. And now my "Fuzz Pedal of Infinite Laceration" that gives an Armor Piercing boost with a 47% chance to cause enemies to flee. I am hoping to have most of my rig set up when recording time comes around so I can reproduce sounds from the record live. Though Ruined is "The Band That Grand Rapids Forgot" our gloom works like a Space Marine spearhead; "One unbreakable shield against the coming darkness. One last blade, forged in defiance of fate. Let it be my legacy to the galaxy I conquered. And my final gift to the species I failed." Essentially, we're going to fuck shit up. Stay Gloomy.

Thursday, September 4, 2014

Red By Mourning, Seattle Bound, No One Likes A Shitass

The right attitude. 
Nice and gloomy day here in Michigan! I was stirred from my sleep this morning by the sound of thunder and the drowning death-rattles of yuppies being swept away by the rising flood of rain like a caustic river through the ruptured thoroughfare and passageways of this fair city! Instead of being met by the unforgiving sea; our ill-fated friends spiraled beneath the very crust of the Earth herself deep into the 8th circle of Hell reserved for vapid frauds and were tucked away in the furthest cantos as Sowers of Discord! My compatriots and I shall laugh from our tall and vast cliff narrows in the 6th circle buried alive in our flaming tombs of heresy! It shall be glorious! Alas it would be, if any of it were true. The thunder part was true at least and that was nice. And as always I would like to remind you all of the beautiful dichotomy that we have the heartening experience of enjoying on days like today. As a person who hates going out into the world and most likely would feel completely at home building a fortress in the Mariana Trench with a high speed internet connection and a tour submersible; days like today are a Kerry King send. At this chapter of my life most people know not to bother with asking me to go do anything for any reason at any time, but the expectation is loosened even further on a day like today when no one wants to leave their prospective dwellings. My point being that gloomy, rainy and even shitty days should be celebrated with a reserved sense of reciprocity with the universe and the balance of our humors. A somber calm is just as important as a joyful exuberance.

"Opposition brings concord. Out of discord 
comes the fairest harmony. " -Heraclitus

Our gloom shall drink
your rivers dry. 
Now what else is happening in the desolate catacomb that is my life. I was feeling really sick and shitty yesterday at work. The night before I started feeling that sore and overall uncomfortable feeling you get when you have a cold or flu. Which of course made it impossible to sleep that night and I felt 10 times worst yesterday from it. I feel a lot better today though so that's coo. Otherwise I had to officially cancel a tour I was booking for Ruined this November. The pieces just were not falling into place, the main one being that I don't have a vehicle therefore short of having a gloom army carry us across the country like Xerxes in "300" it wasn't in the cards. I was hoping to have that situation remedied by now but you know how things go, once the craft beer starts flowing it is tough to save money living in Beer City USA. Which is why it is also understandable why not a single bourgeoisie shit-waffle can tip my shit-ass. Who can afford it when you have all these breweries popping up all over town like great obtuse obelisks beckoning you forward and taxing your resources away? Speaking of bourgeoisie, I have been watching the show "Frasier" a lot lately and I honestly think it's funny as fuck. It almost makes me want to move to the great Northwest Territory. It rains all the time, Wolves in the Throne Room are from there, and the pine trees outnumber the craft beer barbarians. At least from what I have been told.

I consider Ricky to be a sage of sorts.
I will admit I was disappointed having to cancel that tour. But I realized that there is no reason to be upset about something that is simply out of my control. I have been working the same job for the past 2 years and I am only just now feeling like I am getting on my feet. I still live check to check and have no intention of having a savings account any time soon. In fact I am under the presumption that I will always dwell in the proverbial shit-shack beneath the crushing capitalist citadels. But given the time I am confident I will sort something out for us. On the bright side we have been working on a music video that is coming along nicely. We recorded some footage last night that turned out pretty gloomy. I think editing that eventually will be a constructive use of my time and will distract myself from delving into my self-deprecating thoughts. I have also been trying to book some more shows around Grand Rapids and have not had much luck. I'd like to get a good repose going with the Michigan Gloom Alliance but it's slow going so far. Once again I feel like I am just rambling about nothing. I am fucking hungry. Sorry that this post was shitty people. Stay Gloomy.