Evolution always wins

They come to me in my bedroom.  I can only make out forms and shapes, dark silhouettes against a backdrop of white light.  I can move my hands but nothing else.  The fear is instantaneous and suffocating.  But every time he is there she is there too.  I once asked her if it was all just a dream and her eyes widened in terror and realization.  Yet aboard the craft she is so brave and consoling, no tears coming from her.  I just want to step inside the loose palace of exile.  The words I end with are not my own but they sum it all up better than I ever could.  I say these things not to one but to all of you and hope you each receive this message in your own way. 

Looking through old photographs I suddenly realized I’ve spent (wasted?) my entire life looking for a replacement.  I have unknowingly dedicated a substantial amount of my time to creating demons.  Oh such sweet recall, 9 humble years ago.  I remember that morning well.  The supple bass notes and the sunshine captured in flower petals.  You were in green and saw me for the first and last time.  She said you would never forget but it’s so easy to have doubts.  But the moment will replay in my head and heart over and over again until my final days. 

I’m excited to read Clive Barker’s latest book The Scarlet Gospels when it is released this upcoming month of May in this great year of 2015.  I shall have to hitchhike over to Waldenbooks to purchase a copy.  I’ll probably read it in my car while parked in front of a department store with the two front-side windows rolled down a bit to allow for some cross ventilation.  I started the book Redwall last night.  It’s been several decades since I read the first book in Brian Jacques sprawling series.  My memories of the Redwall universe are blissful and I hope to recapture some of this magic and have resolved to read the entire series this year! 

You’re leaving town tomorrow.  I knew you a long time ago; we shook hands while my insides exploded like a bottle of nitroglycerin colliding with a hard surface.  I screamed and rolled in the flowers afterward and shared my spoils with a dark skinned man.  And the last time you saw me I was wishing you well and preparing to see such joy thru’ these architects eyes; the crying came much later and then the obsession which would outlive everything.  The music has no meaning when you’re not around.  Everything is just black and white. 

I think I’ll see the movie It Follows this Friday at my local multiplex.  Slavish followers of my work will no doubt remember there are 4 horror films I am anticipating this year like a starving man anticipates a turkey on rye sandwich: Starry Eyes, It Follows, The Babadook, and 31.  I saw Starry Eyes in February and was sadly disappointed, The Babadook comes out on blu ray next month and 31 won’t be released until later this year so for now my only hope is It Follows.  Despite all the rave reviews and recommendations from folks I would trust with my worthless life it will probably disappoint me as most things do. 

Mark Knopfler released a new album last week but I was too busy playing the part of the ignorant fool to realize this.  At some point today I will hitchhike down to a department store and purchase it.  Later I will listen to it within the comfort of my posh flat, a glass of Zinfandel in one hand and a well oiled, loaded and cocked pistol in the other.  I will periodically point the barrel of the pistol to my temple and there will be occasional tears running down my chubby chipmunk like cheeks.  However I will most likely not have the intestinal fortitude to go through with the most logical choice a man like me could make.  I once knew a man who was (and likely still is) a big fan of Dire Straits.  He was (and likely still is) one of the most honorable men I’ve ever had the good fortune to know and every time I am in a bar and hear a song by Straits or Knopfler I raise my glass or bottle and drink to him. 

The amount of people who have kids who shouldn’t is mind blowing and disgusting.  Why don’t we get a fucking job?  Also, it’s really not that hard not to have kids.  People are ugly, repulsive things.  We are a disease to this planet.  To constantly be reminded of our worthlessness is so draining.  Maybe we should all make the logical and honorable choice today to stop having kids.  That way in a century or so the human race would simply be extinct!  These words are translated into Japanese before I start to run up a hill backwards and scream like a baby (I do it all because I’m young!).  Why are there so many zombies around me?  You all make me cry.  The Prestige is still my favorite Christopher Nolan movie, no contest.  None of his other movies even come close! 

Lucio Fulci’s 1981 horror classic The Beyond is released on special edition blu ray today complete with a gaggle of bonus features and a copy of Fabio Frizzi’s fab soundtrack.  I may be going against the grain a bit but of all the great Italian horror directors Fulci is my favorite.  Don’t Torture a Duckling is probably my most beloved Giallo and I enjoy the man’s over the top use of gore more than Argento’s.  But why even bother comparing?!  Can’t one just sit back with a steaming bowl of clam chowder and enjoy them all?! 

The current political unrest in Kosovo is certainly troubling to someone like me.  Ballbreaker and Stiff Upper Lip are two great and highly underrated albums from Australia’s own AC DC.  I’ve been listening to these discs nonstop in my motor vehicle for the past several decades and I conclude they are meaty and fulfilling slabs of pure rock.  Cliff William’s steady pulse of eighth notes is the band’s secret weapon and often when I think of his bass playing I drool in excitement and depraved praise.  What would I do if I met Ecuadorian artist Azucena Aymara in person?  Would I even have the words?  Or would I just beg her to use my face as her footrest, especially if she just finished a long concert on a warm day and was wearing hosiery?  I went to Target a few days ago and bought a box of garbage bags.  But the real garbage is me. 

I was watching Man of Steel the other day and immediately fell in love all over again with German actress Antje Traue who played Faora, General Zod’s commander.  Sometimes I like to imagine that I’m a reporter interviewing her as part of a press junket for her next feature film.  I often burst into tears when thinking about her because she seems so sweet and kind in interviews.  I wish she were in more movies.  I wish she had been cast as Wonder Woman!  Forgive me for saying so. 

Please send all your moonbeam levels to me.