THE CHRONICLE OF RIPLEY SNELL

Mild Cheer

2008-09-07T23:16:00.000-07:00

So lately I've been in a slump or something, but i didn't wanna do the usual feel sorry for myself thing, because i'm an adult now...kind of. so i made a playlist with the intention of making me feel better, without ignoring how i feel right now. does that make any sense? it doesn't matter in the least, because it's for me, but see if it works for you. or just take down these tracks because they're all super good, dur.

01.tenebre_Goblin
02.i know a place_Jay Reatard
03.ethereal_High on Fire
04.tonight's the night_Frankie Lymon & The Teenagers
05.soul desert_Can
06.the pioneers_Bloc Party
07.hammer i miss you_Jay Reatard
08.requiem_Howlin Rain
09.battery_Metallica
10.steadfast_Nujabes
11.the draw_Frankie Lymon & The Teenagers
12.meadowlarks_Fleet Foxes
13.don't turn the light on, leave me alone_Can
14.waiting death_Goblin
15.dirtywhirl_TV on the Radio
16.thieves in the temple_Prince
17.#11_Nujabes
18.deadlock_Can

Anubis

2008-07-08T11:43:00.000-07:00

the playlist representing the Ancient Egyptian god, Anubis. the playlist is a soundtrack for the journey to the underworld. enjoy and revere.

1.vitamin c_Can
2.icy demons_Icy Demons
3.thinking black_Ike Turner
4.she brings the rain_Can
5.next saturn_Boris
6.monk's mood (false start)_Thelonious Monk
7.singing man_The Roots
8.eye_Madvillain
9.magic mountain_Blonde Redhead
10.tango whiskeyman_Can
11.black swan_Thome Yorke
12.your point is the umbrella_Boris
13.mushroom_Can
14.turtle island_Beach House
15.chimatown_Icy Demons
16.meat grinder_Madvillain

Fleet Foxes?

2008-07-08T11:34:00.000-07:00

so i dont really like bluegrass music. i dont enjoy indie shit too much either. BUT, mixed together it has lullaby qualities that make me feel comfortable with being lighthearted and sensitive at times. at VERY FEW TIMES. Fleet Foxes dropped a self titled album that deserves some listening to. my favorite on the LP is Meadowlark. it's like listening to a Yeats poem in song, but only...slightly less heady. all the instrumentation is pretty relaxed, it's kind of funny really. the guitar is a droll indie sounding guitar, the vocals are very southern bluegrass (and beautiful at that), while every now and then there's a clashing cymbal to make the sound seem more encompassing of presence. banjo flickers and organ climaxes. yeah. check that shit out. im boycotting Coldplay's new album and using this one to get me through.

IT'S RIP'S BIRTHDAY!

2008-06-06T10:10:00.001-07:00

ripley snell was born (on earth) on june 6, 1986. he is 21 today, so now he can take lives in bars! if you have any doubt as to whether ripley is blacker than the blackest, check the date of his birth
june is the 6th month of the year
the 6th day was when he was born
and he was born on the 6th year of the darkest decade this century (the hangover from the disco era) think about it. FUCK OFF

BRO NO HE DI'INT! playlist

2008-06-02T18:11:00.000-07:00

another 1 hour playlist. im getting good at this. please dont be mad if i take songs from another list. it's not like you used the last one anyway...(ups to carlos for showing me mgmt)

1.gold and a pager_The Cool Kids
2.electric feel_MGMT
3.kilometer_Sebastien Tellier
4.creator_Santogold
5.getting nasty_Ike Turner
6.shake that_Benny Blanco & Spank Rock
7. desert toll_Icy Demons
8.dead cruiser_Kavinsky
9.divine_Sebastien Tellier
10.every little step_Bobby Brown
11.shove it_Santogold feat. Spank Rock
12.lucky boy_DJ Mehdi feat. Fafi
13.my prerogative_Bobby Brown
14.kids_MGMT
15.the silent hero_Icy Demons
16.lucky girl_DJ Mehdi feat. Fafi

hey look at this fresh ass podcast i found on accident

2008-05-26T17:31:00.000-07:00

ICY DEMONS

2008-05-25T22:11:00.000-07:00

they're nuts, check it. i just got their album "fight back". i'm serious, if you're into art rock/prog-rock GET IT. check em out

Ike Turner Rising

2008-05-25T20:36:00.000-07:00

on the horizon, there is a new growing interest in Ike Turner. very few people even know where Tina got her name and career start from. Ike Turner was a rock & roll visionary and the divorced husband of Tina Turner. Ike's career has been iced over and buried because of his famous abuse toward Tina. During their marriage Ike was possessive, physically and sexually abusive. the nation and media sympathized with Tina, and (not to say that it was the cause of, but) Tina's career took off after a silence in the 70s, with new pop songs in the 80s. most people don't even know Tina Turner as Ana Mae, or even her career prior to the 80s. as a theorist, i believe this was due to the media covering up her past so as not to draw attention to her struggles with Ike, or draw attention to Ike in general. i've heard it said that Ike Turner is responsible for the birth of rock & roll. after hearing his album entitled "A Black Man's Soul", i can see why.

Sex'n Mix 08

2008-05-23T17:57:00.000-07:00

so the summer is pretty much here. summer means something different to everybody for the most part. to me, it means the best sex of the year. you can have outdoors sex in the summer. you get so hot that you start doing things you wouldn't normally do in the summer. global warming is kicking in so it's gonna be a HOT ass summer. bad in some ways, but also good. so i came prepared. take these down.

1.tonight_TV on the Radio
2.intimate secretary_The Raconteurs
3.lord have mercy_Howlin Rain
4.roche_Sebastien Tellier
5.starstruck_Santogold
6.new star in the sky_Air
7.magic mountain_Blonde Redhead
8.your point is the umbrella_Boris
9.dry the rain_The Beta Band
10.pomme_Sebastien Tellier
11.hot sex_A Tribe Called Quest
12.un heure_Sebastien Tellier
13.love bombing_DJ Mehdi

keep in mind that everybody doesn't fuck the same...but odds are i fuck better than most of you (a little half-joke for you). The list is exactly 1 hour long, some of us need longer but past that point you don't care what you're listening to. g'day. happy humping

MALL CRUExPDX

2008-05-23T11:04:00.000-07:00

what better does anyone have to do on a rainy friday afternoon but check out Mall Crue at Lloyd Center @ 7pm? I still haven't gone, but I'm going tonight so reviews are coming. I can say that the people that go are some of the downest folks i've met in a long long time. SEE YA THERE!

COOL KIDSxSWAGGER JACKERS

2008-05-23T09:59:00.000-07:00

so i got a few issues.
first thing's first, the chicago indie hip hop act, Cool Kids, is a very talented group of guys. they make crowds. that being said they bite my style! haha, i mean, i've been on this whole nerd revival backpacker movement before it was cool, thus making me the COOLEST kid. and mikey rocks...he's a great guy, except he STOLE MY FACE. fucker looks just like me, creeps me out totally. well, good luck guys, if you just keep using my style you'll get as far as you want, so by almeans, JACKOFF! haha much love,
Ripley Snell Esq.

fuck that peter, mary jane was a bitch

2008-05-22T13:21:00.000-07:00

so why was spidey so bent out of shape when the green goblin sucked mary jane into a vortex?
oh well. she was lame any fuckin way. so you know what? that makes spiderman a bitch.
first of all, she was always complaining when he had to go save the city and shit, like "wtf do you want me to do, i can't fuck with drapes, i gotta go save some shit" that's all you need to say. had him questioning his morals and shit. girls suck

playlisten 1

2008-05-20T23:07:00.000-07:00

1.nebulae_Sun-Ra

2.bonita applebum_A Tribe Called Quest

3.too sexy_Dirt Nasty

4.creator_Santogold

5.roche_Sebastien Tellier

6.hours_TV on the Radio

7.cold blooded_Ole Dirty Bastard

8.meat grinder_MF Doom

9.testarossa autodrive_Kavinsky

10.el rey_Howlin Rain

YoYos?

2008-05-20T22:52:00.000-07:00

yes it's true.
they're back, so get one.
i don't own a wii. why? because im an adult.
that's why i got a yo yo, duh.
now i know yo yo-ing has implications that make the user
look like an 11 year old anime junkie, but fuck that.
1. everyone knows that nerd shit always becomes cool one day
2. it's too soon for pogs to come back, but right on time for yo yos
3. it's fuckin fun (shh. dont tell.)
4. it's almost a more noble use for your wrist than jacking off
try it this summer. when you have nothing to do, rather than text people about nothing, grab a beer in one hand and a yo yo in the other, and you'll quickly be convinced that you might actually be having fun.

the church and the juke joint

2008-05-20T22:40:00.000-07:00

i used to wonder how drugs and rock & roll got married.
it most definitely started when in the south, where the swamps are
there would be a church on one side, and a juke joint or a sin shack on the other.
the music and spiritual depth of the church would be siphoned into the shack across the swamp,
but instead of god, how would the shack find it's depth and soul other than in drugs.
these shacks became home for the most delicious perversions of gods little beauties.
young shining talents from the church would play in the church, and later that evening
they would cross the swamp and get fucked up, singing about love, loss, and pain.
don't believe me? ask ray charles, billie holiday, or even this guy...

oh my, how we've grown

2008-05-20T17:28:00.000-07:00

it's been a long time since my last post
so much has happened.
ima lay it down like this.
about four months ago
(my last post) i dove into a relationship
that wasn't really a "relationship"
and yesterday i looked up and realized
i wasted four months.
IM WORKING NOW THOUGH!
HAIL DOV CHARNEY!

Just to let you know

2008-02-21T12:42:00.001-08:00

I wanna be like these guys

BA 101

2008-02-15T14:30:00.001-08:00

recruitment, it's a beautiful thing...ish.

oh good times

2008-02-10T18:36:00.000-08:00

let me say that while i was passed out at the bottom of the hill, there were a bunch of people having the party of the year on top of the hill, dancing to prince and madonna. I had the party of the year as well, only thing was that it was in my head and started at 2:00 pm heavy drinking with peter and reggie...who can both drink way more than me (reggie, can only drink "longer" than me...because he sips. i DRINK haHA!)

derek and i were sleighing at beerpong (1 word) that night...crucial mistake, drinking between matches and sudden death rounds. glad to say that D and i shared a bed that night, and the next morning lisa made us breakfast! walked down to Reg's with a pale ale, my buddy, and a smile. I miss you guys! p.s. zach dressed like a monsta, and from what i hear chase is the next kevin bacon in footloose...pussies!haha

a drunk and his friend

2008-02-06T22:25:00.000-08:00

i kept the same Bottle.
faint lip prints on the end,
and around the neck fingerprint smudges
almost fresh.
in a closet, with seasons changing around it:
bag of clothes, jackets, computer, all with time
but the bottle there frozen.

with It's own history,
with happiness long gone
with the last drop,
and salt left from tears on the stained label
with traces from makeshift margaritas.

finding that same enemy made friend
like old chess rivals in a park.
i sought The Bottle around noon
should have been visiting my former friend Food,
but it wasn't the same as it used to be
and Bottle offered me a taste of yesterday.

while some memories mean more to some
than others,
i could mention the mutual acquaintance
after years have passed
and injuries are able to be overlooked.
"hey, do you remember when we met Bottle,
together? it was bitter everyday but that."
"I remember the day, but what's this
old friend you know so well"

some memories mean more to some
than others,
and friends split once meeting.
some in departure together,
and some taking stranger roads.
but Bottle and i stayed familiar.
This was the spot, where It happened.
and where We met, but we were all there.
the same spot, and same Bottle
that nursed me through new tears,
and peeled back the day quicker
from a couch overlooking the galaxy.

counter the conspiracy

2008-02-02T17:47:00.000-08:00

remember to use proper diction when you're talking to me
unless you plan to author your own eulogy
tom foolery is band here, see?
you can call me mr. feather
dont you be dissin ME
enunciate children
speak with your tongue and teeth
use your college degree to keep
killing the streets
teaching youngsters it's 'bout a race
they can either win the sleezy way
or take the easy way, n' about face
to many, wall street will then seem appealing
just be careful not to bump your
nappy head on the glass ceiling
the school was built for little girls
but the office wasn't
so households include all your
grandparents and cousins
ain't no time to vacation
ain't enough money for lovin
cuz the walls about to burst
three rooms to a dozen.
so get As, get As, get As
be careful not to get AIDS, get AIDS, get AIDS
by god's good grace maybe you might see
a check some day,
but keep praying for respect one day.

years are getting shorter...

2008-01-31T17:00:00.000-08:00

i hate the way i hate not knowing. to me it seems like the unexpected is a lot like knowledge i don't know. but is it? see, knowledge on one hand is something that you haven't found out, but obviously existed before you ever found it. then when the unexpected happens, was it bound to? it also seems like life is way too balanced to just let a bunch of unauthorized bullshit happen. lives are fragile, but life is definitely not. so if something unexpected happens, is it unexpected because it wasn't supposed to happen but did, or was it just always bound to happen before we knew about it. it doesn't feel like our perception of things has much of a say in the natural order of what happens, but sometimes we lose sight of that. and is fate synonymous with faith? i wouldn't say so. thing's might just be how they are in order, and the random is not so random, but our perception of things throws us off because the nature of perception is to see things before they actually happen, based on what we think. but we're really shitty thinkers when it boils down to it. like the idea of god. is god a testament to his own power, or is the idea of god a notch on the belt of achievements by the human race? but we tend to put words to things that don't fit, which puts a tremendous ding in our credibility from the beginning. maybe our perception is just a ticket, like a train ticket, and we're just in this thing for the view of it. we're on the tracks, and looking out the windows, but the fact still remains we're on the tracks to a destination already set, with no type of deviation from the plot. and you may not expect to see everything you see on the ride, but it was there whether you were going to see it, or not. and once you get used to riding the train, it's like time folds. you're in it for the long haul, and the train is going to take it's time. if your mind is generous it will speed things up when you stop seeing new things, and sometimes you sleep through portions. train rides go through seasons, where you see one trend, then another, all interlocking as your journey continues. but after the first 4 hours of feeling every minute, you only feel half hours, and then the hours pass like the minutes did, until you're done after putting the whole journey on fastforward. fortunately they serve coffee on trains.

im in...

2008-01-23T21:34:00.000-08:00

something. idk what it is yet.

its...

2008-01-22T12:39:00.000-08:00

cold than a mutha!

climb them steps

2008-01-17T15:06:00.000-08:00

i'll be the first one to admit that my gind has been stalled. i cant really help it considering im an mc without a mic, pa, or any kind of foundation to spit on. anyone who knows me knows how huge pete and reg are in keeping/ getting me focused. but im still on it. a lot of questions like "what's gonna happen to them steps?" and comments like "too bad they aren't available for the live circuit" have let me know that i might need to express assurance or explanation for our situation. We are them steps. It's hard to say what we're the steps to, because whatever you take from us, is wherever we're meant to take you. for me, them steps lead home. i've been tryna figure out where my home is. to some people i think them steps lead toward the healing of music, and the death of the money industry. i know im not the only one that's seen a set of stairs and just wanted to climb em to see what was at the end of them, and i believe that's the feeling we try and provide for people. but a big part of that is the people taking the path trusting that it leads somewhere, so it's our job to keep you confident in us. so know that i'll never stop becoming a better mc, and i'll never stop loving the mic, or the stage. i'll never stop loving my brothers pete and reg, and we'll never stop leading whoever wants to follow us. all we're doing right now is taking time to perfect our minds in college so that we can come back with something so much deeper and powerful than we ever did in our youth. everything you saw before was a preview, but when we come back, you'll know where we take you. paz
ripley snell

It's mostly about the links

2008-01-10T23:18:00.000-08:00

i mainly started blogging because of this Danish fashion blog. now, the entire blog was danish so i couldnt read it completely, but i was able to enjoy the blog because of its links. in fact, much of the links on my blog are links i found from that blog, including a link to the blog itself "7inch". basically, the point is: if you've been to my blogspot and read every single blog but havent checked the links, you've missed the point completely. so check em out "off rip's lips and on record" is the section title to the very right of this post. paz

2008-01-09T19:54:00.000-08:00

Ripley's world: I

2008-01-09T18:20:00.001-08:00

Genevieve and Cloe sat in the car in front of Ripley on the train from Paris to Madrid. The devilish pair battered on about the same things as always, coffee, culture, clothing, and murder. Both had dark hair and darker eyes, with pail skin trained by the French winter sky. The only way young Ripley could tell the two assassins apart was that Genevieve had short hair, and Cloe's was shorter.

Ripley Snell was on a mission assigned by the Associated Press. The French assassins, like many other eccentric troupes were also of the same employment. The way the business worked was this: the assassins would travel around the world, not only killing people but starting trends, causing drama, all for the purpose creating news. Ripley's job was simply to monitor these deadly muses, and make sure they did the bidding of the AP; if they didn't, he was to kill them.

With usual black sleekware, (thin collared shirt, goose down vest, trim trousers, and sometimes a black hat, Ripley was no secret to the assassins, and he even developed relationships with some of them. The French assassins never spoke with him. They were beginning this year's assignment of kidnappings, including the snatching, ambiguous evidence, framing, and notification of the press, and murder of the victim.

When the train stopped in Madrid after a couple days, the French Assassins left a letter, and an open cell phone in their car, disappearing trailing thin traces of cigarette smoke. The letter was notifying Ripley of their success, and the phone was for him to notify the AP. Inside the letter they always left a small amount of the victim's blood (maybe a thumb print) so that Ripley knew they were telling the truth.

"125 confirmed, Thursday run, 5'5'' brown 'h', blue 'e'. Next?" Said Ripley into the phone. They always communicated in code. Somehow they figured it was a dangerous business creating news. Each assassin or assassin troupe had a code number. 125 was that of the French assassins. "Thursday run" meant the story is ready for print on Thursday. The rest is referring to information about the victim, confirming the correct target: 5 ft 5 inches brown hair and blue eyes.

"Copy, Madrid, trailing 62, deadline: Friday." The anonymous voice on the other end of the phone directed Ripley Snell to trail assassin 62 in Madrid, letting him know that 62's mission had to be completed by Friday. He knew 62, and he hated it every time he was asked to trail her. She was Lucia Fur, and ever since their night in Germany they were not on good terms. Ripley's whole account of that night went zooming by, everything from room service at 4 in the morning, to bullets whizzing past bed sheets and empty champagne bottles. Lucia still didn't believe that Ripley didn't try to have her killed.

After leaving the boarding dock, he met a man with a sign holding the name "Harris" and knew that was his contact. The contact's name is Harris, but with a driver's uniform people would assume that the name was not his own. The two casually strolled to Harris' Continental parked out front. On the seat there was a file containing information he already knew too well, and a Jack & Coke he knew even better. The day was overcast but without rain, though the streets were wet from the night before. Onlookers watched from dusty stoops while the American limo slid down the narrow streets, reflecting the black hue in puddles and windows as it passed.

Ripley was let off at a small cafe, where he ordered his usual black coffee, and the Daily Republic. It was important to him to read a piece of literature that he didn't have a hand in creating. She sat calmly at the table right across from him, outdoors, and it began to rain. Though there were umbrellas above the tables they were the only two to remain outdoors. Lucia was reading the New York Times, only as more of a resume than a news source. For her every section was the business section, and the front page was her NYSE ticker. Ripley tried so hard to ignore her presence that he got sucked into his reading, and forgot to actually watch her. Once catching himself he looked up to make sure she wasn't gone, but instead of being gone, she had her 9mm sight aimed right for his chest, through his magazine. The thin red beam shown like a mute beacon in the grey misty rain. Shocked inside but showing no emotion Ripley put down his paper. She looked at him with one good glance of hatred, and walked away, leaving the killer's killer alone in the rain...

g'damn

2008-01-08T21:24:00.000-08:00

soooo, wtf ryan? lemme lay it down. i'd been living in chico and playing music there for about the past year with my band, Them Steps. We were pretty much the youngest band that anyone took seriously, and not everyone took us seriously, but to those people i lend a sincere "fuck you". im losing the point here. Anyway, somehow i, ripley snell, ended up doing a lil playing and acting with the infamous Gorgeous Armada. The chap who plays bass in the production company/band/acting troupe/art guild known as Gorgeous Armada Presents is named Ryan. Now i knew that Ryan is really talented and plays with a lot of bands around chico, and in many of them as well. somehow it never occured to me to check them out. Right now im listening to Mute Witness, and i won't be the first, but i'll say it anyway: they're ill. they have this crazy melodic groove that can't be missed by any rhythm man, nor jazz head. I mean, they play with some serious fire (currently listening to "Find"). I wont say much more because i've never been one for music reviews, kissing ass, nor really giving out many compliments. so, I've placed a link in my link bar, check em d' fuck out.

and so it begins

2008-01-07T23:20:00.000-08:00

i finally enrolled in school after a dope ass semester long internship working in fashion and merchandising with some of the coolest people i've ever met. needless to say i was a little bit more than reluctant to return to a classroom setting, but seeing as i had no other choice (getting another job wasn't a viable option) i just did it. here in portland i've met a surprising realization: i may actually enjoy school. right now im attending Portland Community College seeking a transferable associates in Art and Biz, with classes at the Rock Creek Campus. I wasn't really into the idea of community college simply becuase, let's face it, the perceived lack of sex. but who am i kidding, if im gonna get it im gonna get it anywhere, and if im not, im not. and besides, maybe i have some hope of coming out of there with some decent grades if i don't live, sleep, and eat in the same place as all these learned women.
the other students are people with lives and jobs. Passing the campus daycare on my way to math this afternoon was a sobering shot in my day. im overwhelmingly pleased at the lack of bullshit, and the air of high school dilemmas was nowhere to be sensed. I just wish i didnt look so young through it all, but i can't stand but to shave and look trimmed (of course, to me, scraggle constitutes age, and maturity. then again im an idiot).
then another thing occurred to me whilst thinking of my youth: what if im the one that's going to bring the bullshit and complications i despised in high school? still im not sure if the pressure i feel from that question is justifiable, but usually for me, a good amount of worry is enough to keep me from fucking up too badly. and yes, i do worry. as i left my class, successfully not harassing any women i found attractive, one girl anyone would call attractive just HAD to smile at me with deep dimples and a coy grin, saying, "wow, how'd you get across the campus so quick?".
of course to a normal person the question wouldn't mean anything but its literal translation, but i think it's already been established im not exactly normal. no, to me she meant "why did you leave so quickly after class?" or perhaps more threateningly "why didn't you take time to introduce yourself after class". subsequently after running through my obsessive compulsive daydreams i began to wander into a whole different realm as i traveled. "i wonder what it would be like to actually get to know her. date her? i would, should i? she might not even like me. but if we did date, would it be visible at school? are relationships visible at college? yeah but, are they visible at community college?" so of course my train of thought seems irrational, but still i wonder...are they?

off toppin it rockin it

2008-01-06T16:11:00.001-08:00

skylinin' like a leer
dressed to impress
holdin breasts like braziers
take note of my career
early registry
cuz im startin out young
like teen pregnancy
try n' next to me
it's harder than it looks
im not like these other rappers
scared the charters on the books
and weezy better watch it
cuz ripley on the board
checkin kings like rooks
mate
passin them thangs like
patty cake
god help any nigga tryna
sell me shake
cuz he bout to meet the lord
for goodness sake

and another thing...

2008-01-05T22:53:00.000-08:00

i have little
sister
syndrome.
it's this thing
where i cant stand to be doubted
nor can i take criticism
and im hurt to be shrugged off.
i've only known taking chances,
because i have little
sister
syndrome.
you might as well just
join the family
"adam, you're a dork"
"adam, i cant take you seriously"
"adam, that will never work"
no victory is satisfying
with a lonely finger
emerging from a corner
waving franticly
"I TOLD YOU SO!"
"...geeze, calm down, adam"
what the fuck.
a domestic leper because
i have little
sister
syndrome.

kinda hard

2008-01-05T22:43:00.000-08:00

i cant really imagine shedding my little boyish intricacies that i used to think were cute. it used to seem alright to do something fucked up, and then explain later using a favorite ending "so that's why i do that". i dont really want to make excuses anymore like im damned to be socially awkward, because im not, and it's not fair to people i drag into interactions. it's almost like a crutch "oo love me, im flawed". my only flaws should be the ones i cant make excuses for, because if i can make excuses for them, then i should fix them right? i guess it's just because i've never been comfortable enough with myself to just be real with people. i cant keep putting up an image, and saying later "see, i told you i suck." i just dont wanna be potential anymore. im longing to be already there.

personal journal?

2008-01-03T20:45:00.000-08:00

still trying to figure out the nature of this blog. people normally blog assuming that several anonymous people might read...however that's not my situation. as of about 5 minutes ago i've decided i dont really care, nor do i mind if no one at all reads my blog. in fact, that would mean that i have an unlimited electronic journal all to myself. say i did start posting all my random feelings on things, or people, assuming that no one would ever read them: i might have something beautiful here. yet it may be even more beautiful in the event that i do write that way and people actually do end up reading...a risky concept. i bet i'll end up doing so in a few posts, maybe the next...or maybe i am right now? am i talking to myself? creepy

Red, Blue, Yellow, not in that order

2008-01-03T19:31:00.001-08:00

Red, Blue, and Yellow. As different as the sun, moon, and stars...my point exactly. It's weird, how we met. By accident, but as if SOMEONE knew what was going on. A boy who never speaks asking another who doesnt sing, to sing. Then one overhearing, who seldom can hear over his own voice. Coming together like storm clouds to announce a presence of lightning that can be seen for miles. The aftermath being thunder, always heard later...until you're up close to the hazard. Most dont hear us before they see us, three old men in young men's make up. Only when they get up close do they hear us just as soon as they see us. With a mission to bring smiles, and a message saying it's okay to weep. Learning life as we go, and living as if we've done it before. Come close...come closer...do you hear that?

hella raiders

2008-01-02T17:08:00.000-08:00

today i was flipping through romantic comedies out of despair on the encore channels. I came across one comedy that wasn't romantic at all, and the digital cable info listed the movie as "Hell Raiders", which is originally a 1968 war action film...but this wasn't it. i decided to watch in order to find out if i was watching the same thing that the info described: WWII italy; two men fall for the same woman in the midst of combat. it wasn't at all the movie described, but this mystery movie began to impress me more and more as it continued.

a low budget satiric comedy about 6 travelers searching out an oracle in wasteland america, in a post anarchy setting. it was remarkable to see how the director conveyed the characters in the movie as having only our subtle subculture traits, and clinging to those after there is nothing left. the story takes place in New Mexico, and follows the 6 travelers (hippie anarchists searching for purpose and a home) being chased by a convoy of jocks in dune buggies with guns attached to them. all through out the movie they make light of petty revelations that have been founded about ourselves in recent history.

one specific scene is where a woman and a man sit down and eat army rations they stumbled upon in their travels. the woman tells the man with a smile "i just found out what my greatest fear is. now that i know it, i dont think i have an appetite." Immediately following the man points out the triumph in her discovery. She then feels so good about herself that she regains her appetite...but then dies a short time later after eating an explosive anchovy. I dont laugh out loud to most movies, especially not ones i watch by myself, but this one made me do it, and it was still poetic, and high in sophistication. I would recommend it, but alas, i dont even know its name.

2008-01-02T14:39:00.001-08:00

In fall of 2007 I started a concept for a comic series that would chronicle my adventures as a Rhyme Fighter. Im going to sit on it for now, but I just wanted to share it out, as a small glimpse. All dialogue and text are presented in rhyme, so the whole comic book would be a picture poetry zine.

21

2008-01-02T13:33:00.000-08:00

i think setting goals is like playing black jack, in that you know what you want more than you know what you're doing. you also can do things to make that goal happen, but in the end it only comes down to your best being better than the dealer's best. it all comes down to 21. At 21 you're set, and you've won in black jack. that's why i plan to be where i want to be by the time i reach 21. you'll see. 21 is a very special number.

clinging to dirty sheets

2008-01-02T00:00:00.000-08:00

it's kind of funny how, in movies, men are mostly the first to leave the bed after a sex scene, and women sit there posed with the dirty sheets covering her body. The man says something either brave or cold, and the woman expresses need or remorse. Sometimes in life I'll step out of myself and attempt to plan things out for the greatest dramatic effect.

"Okay...now she's going to say this, so if I say that then we'll be here. I should definitely stand like so...yeah, she'll dig that."

It's only after everything falls apart that I realize that real life dramas never end well, and I watch way too many movies.