Need more beef (later stuff mayhaps) and need the close cropped clip!

Mathematics is an interesting word.  I recall watching a severely strung out junkie briefly discuss some crudely scrawled mathematics in a tattered old notebook and I recall with equal or greater clarity my realization that even in his debilitated condition this individual had vastly more intrinsic value than I.  Don’t deceive yourself with thoughts of snowflakes or gold stars. I see now there are still many many records I need to acquire in that P Funk empire.  It is a joyous revelation.  I was cruising around listening to Radiohead’s Kid A yesterday when certain things began to make sense.  Still, as I write this Bong Joon-Ho’s Memories of Murder is playing on the Vizio television set in front of me; amazing film.  I love David Fincher’s Zodiac too and I can see the strong influence Joon-Ho’s flick had on it.  I’m not sure which I like more (though I might say that Memories is a bit more haunting) so I guess it’s good that I live in a miserable world where I don’t have to make that choice.  

If I purchase that book I read about earlier would my name be entered into a database?  I suppose that’s an interesting possibility.  I wonder how many things are earmarked like that?  Does it really matter?  People always caring about their tastes or habits being collated as though they matter, as though anyone cares or as if it will make any meaningful difference in their empty pathetic lives.  What awful things we are.  True to my word I drank excessively to Lyle last night and/or the night before.  I was also treated to the sight of a man – Na Hong-Jin in this case – in complete control of his craft.  It is inspiring to witness that level of expert precision and masterful manipulation of so many moods and disparate elements.  I also take great inspiration from Lodger and in particular from Look Back in Anger.  It is quite interesting that the speaker was an angel. Now I don’t know if I should actually say “in particular.”  I forgot about the mention of the number 23 (thankfully not that godawful Jim Carrey piece of shit) but as it relates to the aforementioned narrative provided by Mr. Hong-Jin.  Or is it two-three?  Either way, there are several critical parallels one could draw if so inclined. 

So I recently finished George Clinton’s memoirs and found to be a thoroughly engaging read which reaffirmed my love of funk and in particular Clinton’s rich P Funk empire.  For the past couple days I’ve been listening chiefly to Funkadelic’s 1976 album Hardcore Jollies which is just totally replete with endlessly throbbing and rewarding deep cuts!  It is searing, sweaty, soulful, oily, grimy funk!  It is the aural equivalent of heating up a steel poker and then jamming it up my ass!  And I like that, homes!  I like that!  Man, what a fuckin’ album!  What a funkin’ album hahaha!  Immediately I sought out how to properly play the bassline in Cosmic Slop which has been one of my favorite P Funk songs since before I even knew the difference between Parliament and Funkadelic (not to mention Bootsy’s Rubber Band, the Brides of Funkenstein, Parlet, the Horny Horns, P Funk All Stars, George Clinton solo and whoever the fuck else I may have missed because I am one slithering idiot)!  I’m such a piss poor bassist though with shit all for strength and dexterity such that the stretch between the A and the F# on the E string is quite a strain, especially with the very particular rhythm in which it’s played.  Of course, I could just play the open A but then I’m not sure if I could really nail that rhythm with that configuration.  Ultimately, I’m just an awful bass player but that won’t stop me from trying!  You can’t fake the funk!  

But anyway, I was looking for a new book to read and had endless choices because we live in a free country full of literature. I decided – almost at random but not quite – to read J.G. Ballard’s 1973 novel Crash (which thankfully has nothing to do with that horribly contrived 2002 flick about racism).  I’ve only read the first sentence so far so I don’t have quite enough yet to form an opinion but maybe one day.  After I finish the book I thinks I’ll watch David Cronenberg’s 1996 film adaptation of the same name (which also thankfully has nothing to do with that horribly contrived 2002 flick about racism).  Then afterward I think I’ll eat a piece of good ol’ fashioned banana cream pie with a mug of piping hot black coffee.  

The Queen of the Fish People (should their name be capitalized in polite conversation?) was quite beautiful; I can’t deny it.  I would happily be her slave.  Bodies do often bear traces of carnal violence, I can’t deny it.  

Damn it!  I was hoping so much to avoid Peter Berg’s next movie Patriots Day but this is now impossible as I’ve just learned (a few days late because I’m an ignorant degenerate) that Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross are doing the score for the flick which means I must watch this movie at least 9 times to fully appreciate how the music plays within the proper context of the film before purchasing the compact disc and listening to it 12 times a day everyday for at least 1.5 years.  Please understand: my initial desire to avoid this has nothing to do with the material or actors and everything to do with director Peter Berg whose films I detest!  Still, I will say Berg definitely has his own style so I can’t slag the guy.  His art is just not to my taste.  I’m sure he couldn’t give a tin shit because he’s a successful man making art and I’m a worthless piece of garbage that’s never done a single worthwhile thing in his miserable empty life.  I need to buy a movie with Eva Garbo.  And Ane Berthe Lepe.  And Lina Santos!  

At some point tonight (by that I mean last night) I put on The Empire Strikes Back and felt at home again though I’m not really sure what that means.  I am a deeply depressed individual.  I think.  I am distraught over how little anything or anyone means.  I referred to someone as a thing today by accident.  I listened to a George Clinton album in my car while driving around at night and that made me feel good.   I miss some people that I never really knew.  I don’t really know why I do anything.  

I just ate a big lunch and I ain’t feelin’ so hot right now.  Who really gives a flying fuck though, am I right?!  Also, I really love the eye bulging in a couple scenes from the first Mad Max but that really has nothing to do with anything.  I truly do not matter.  Wow, I am such a joke.  

Words cannot adequately describe my love for La Nave de Los Monstruos.  I think I’ll go….

Oh, and October 11 is nearly upon us….

not what i heard, wide eyed, let's eat pizza, city beat, you have success after

I was jazzed as all get out yesterday when I went to the grocery store and saw that Count Chocula was back in stock!  Just one of the many reasons why October is THE month.  I promptly purchased 49 boxes and 33 gallons of Darigold whole milk.  

These phantom clowns are becoming more prevalent.  I don’t think I can stop what is going to happen.  These occurrences are not really surprising.  I suspect – as I have always – that we ourselves are manifesting a very particular type of evil, born from our inherent sinful nature and nurtured through our growing hate, corruption and insatiable desires.  A dear friend recently told me the dignity of our race is slowly decaying.  Perhaps we have simply run our course.  I myself woke up several times last night in a panicked state, reaching for old books and clutching at pendants, clinging to symbols.  Is there anything true in our hearts?  I’m not sure who or what was also present in the room with me but these encroaching forms are growing much stronger.  Are false idols participating in our downfall?  Is there no sin we have not embraced?  Are these born of my own evil?  Or is someone else – maybe several – also participating, perhaps even more actively than we suspect?  

You know, Joe’s Garage has some utterly fantastic music and songwriting but I would love a version without all the concepty spoken word parts and interludes.  Or if they had just made those separate tracks instead of incorporating them directly into the songs.  Damnit, it would be so easy!  Still, I can’t fault the ambition.  By the same (is it?  I’m not sure it is) token I’d forgotten how much I love the song Munchies for Your Love by Bootsy Collins.  I listened to it last night on the way to and from the cinema.  What a great tune; real thick, groovy and evocative.  Great album too I should add.  I can still recall where I purchased it, what I purchased alongside it and where and when I first listened to it.  What an artist!  Incidentally, the feature film I viewed was Hell or High Water.  Real sweaty Texas noir!  I highly recommend it.  

I’m not saying I like Inferno more than Suspiria.  But then again I’m not not saying it.  Maybe I enjoy them both equally though in (slightly) different ways.  Is that allowed?  Maybe it isn’t as slight as I think.  Maybe I should just say “in different ways.”  It is certainly a rich piece of art.  Italian horror, I heart it.  On a semi-almost-completely-unrelated note I was watching the movie Al Compas del Rock and Roll (from the Golden Age of Mexican Cinema) last night and I very nearly suffered a cardiac event.  Seams.  I sometimes wonder what my world would be like if everything were in black and white and those are some of the most blissful moments of my catastrophically failed life.  Santa Sangre is also something I have been unable to wash off my brain but it is definitely much more a piece with the former rather than the latter.  She said no compute.  Don’t not compute.  I never realized the connection until now, how wonderful.  A couple of the absolutes greats, one already gone but never forgotten.  Thank You that I could see both of them.  And all of us still here simply going mad.  

There is more Yamila out there, much more.  I can feel it.  It’s the only thing that gets me up in the morning.  My life’s mission is far from complete.  I almost bought the book Chariot of the Gods last night but I just couldn’t pull the trigger on that one.  I also thought about buying a book about baseball (baseball is my life) and a book or horror short stories.  I think I’ll buy one or all of these very soon though so don’t worry.     

Memories come back to me in an awesome wave: I walk into a room and immediately look over at the gloriously large dry erase board and the see the word “EARTHFUCK” written in capital letters.  I will never learn the meaning of this word or why someone felt the need to emblazon it upon the board but I know in that very moment it is a something which will stay with me to the end of my days.  I have a slim notepad clasped in my greedy hand and a quivering joyless grin on my face.  I do believe I was not as well shaven as I like on that particular day.  The clickity-clack of callused fingertips on keyboards was running rampant, as was the dire sound of shite modern rock.  The discussion becomes heated: inappropriate remarks, color commentary, a plethora of ignorant statements.  At one point I call a woman named Vicky a fool to which she replies, “I’m the fool?!  You’re the one doing fucking lunges!”  She’s right: during the tense discussion I did run through a few sets of lunges, it’s important to stay limber even in the worst of times.  I give her retort a hearty chuckle and the situation diffuses itself shortly thereafter.  My attention then turns to another woman, one whose name I still cannot bring myself to say aloud or even write (incidentally, the last time I attempted communication with her was roughly 1.5 years ago when I texted her a picture of a modern art piece by Damien Hirst though she did not respond.  It’s understandable, Hirst is one of one of the divisive artists of the modern era) but she is the real reason I’d braved the frigid elements that day and made the long icy sojourn to that basement level room.  My God, more than anything about that excursion I remember with joyous clarity that she was wearing dark patterned hosiery with black high heels.  She crosses her legs and absentmindedly lets a shoe dangle of the tip of her right foot, exposing her sole.  Does she know?  Does she know that I want her to use my face as her personal footrest after a long hard sweaty work day and tell me how fucking pathetic I am (and still am), what a fucking loser I am (and still am), how I long for those pantyhose encased soles to crush my face and block off my air supply?  I think she knows.  Her smile is tender, her blue eyes kind.  She goes to work on what I present her with and, as always, her work is divine.  You helped to form me.  I will not forget.  You know, recently I also found myself wishing to have a choker forcibly placed around my neck with a short chain attached to it which connects to leather restraints binding my wrists.  I always imagined the aforementioned (in yesterday’s post) Jackal with the shaved head perpetrating this and more.  I wonder if these thoughts are in anyway related to those memories? 

The first actor to play a live action Lex Luthor was also the first actor to play a live action Commissioner Gordon.  That is a hell of a legacy and striking a great balance between fictional good and evil.  Lyle, I doff my hat to you and tonight I will drink excessively to you. 

I hope they have a copy of The Wailing.  

The jackal with the shaved head, very enticing (and i also love funk music and...)

Lemon Crush, that was a very apt description from way way back in the day of the formative years of my listening self.  A very rich piece of chocolate.  Some way say absurdly rich and thick.  But I would say it is very tasty.  I am still unable to totally identify all the different elements that are taking place.  How strange that this element keep recurring in my largely miserable and entirely pointless existence.  I think I’m going to the cinema tonight where I will watch Hell or High Water; Texas noir as the kids like to say.  I need to purchase more feature films with Edwige Fenech.  I already have a few but I desperately need more.  I already picked them out on Amazon.  Soon…very soon.  Don’t Torture a Duckling, what a fucking masterpiece.  Edwige had nothing to do with that one but my love remains in tact.  How pure is the funk of  Bootsy Collins?  Very pure.  Shame on me that I do not have every last crumb. Still, what great memories from my college years.  The name is…and then a very particular brand of Mexican woman love and then so many different signs o’ the times we were/are living in.  I could never take the place of him. Every morning I make sure to drink a large mug of black coffee with a big ol’ plate of starfish.  Great breakfast.  It’s only been these recent days that I’m able to listen to you once more.  I missed it so much.  Allen Gant Sr, I owe you so much in life, more than I can ever express.  Please, if you are somehow able to read these words just know that you have my eternal gratitude.  I was having a psychic vision of a serial murder about to take while I was also drinking a glass of room temperature tap water.  The vision was strong and I spit up the water.  The red curtains were quite interesting.  I know I brought him up one of the last times but John Frusciante has an album called Curtains which is quite good.  I bought it at Best Buy many years ago and it still receives regular attention.  I often wish no one would talk to me.  George Clinton’s memoirs have been a fascinating and restorative read.  I will likely finish the book tomorrow.  Funk is wonderful.  Where would I be without that glorious music?  In unrelated news Magic Moon and Little Star were holding me hostage this morning, right at their at that shimmer ass-crack of dawn!  Please ignore that childish bit of profanity which is very much in direct opposition to the all encompassing ever captivating glories also mentioned in that very same sentence.  I am feeling as light now as I was then where it seemed there something of a boa constrictor wrappted tightly around my neck and all that shimmer moon dust was covering me and coursing through the wet, juicy inner corridors of my mind.  Hello spacegirl.  I too am goodbye to love in the same breathe.  I am controlled by perverse desires.  Aren’t we all?  This is an imaginary story. Aren’t they all?  I cannot stop thinking that when I looked directly into his eyes death was swimming throughout his entire body, making itself at home.  He knew very well but I was completely oblivious.  Again, these strange and sometimes terrifying symbols continue to pop up wherever I go.  He held his hands high as the Grim Reaper drew him close though.  Be careful about dropping antacids into heavy machinery because you never know when it might spark the birth of a possessed entity.  I want to warn everyone right now to be very careful of witchcraft.  I saw everything taking place through the red lights and heard the screams from down the hall but I was too scared to do anything and I just hid underneath my bed and covered my ears and cried.  That woman’s chest was ripped open and she was stabbed in the heart with a piece of broken glass and her body was hanged where everyone could see it.  if you start peeling back the paint or wallpaper in your home you might not like what you find underneath.  I ate a sandwich recently and though it satiated my hunger I did not find the taste to be particularly satisfying.  I’ve had worse I suppose (remember that time I dropped my hot dog at the petting zoo?).  I watched Braveheart last night after not having seen it in decades.  It made me wish I could see it on the big screen to fully appreciate the sprawl and splendor of director Mel Gibson’s vision.  It also reminded me how many directors and flicks since – from Ridley Scott’s Gladiator to Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings movies – have taken from it without being able to match it.  Still, I would still say Mel’s best film as a director is The Passion of the Christ.  That’s just my worthless opinion.  I’m not sure I want diamonds in my eyes.  we discussed allegations of physical and emotional abuse.  What is a telephone bill exactly?  I think I’m going to take my imaginary dog Rufus for a 4-mile walk and then eat a chicken Caesar salad (with a dollop of Ranch dressing). I love when people believe they are important.  I also love when people believe their opinions matter. I’m a sharp guy who can’t see the forest for the trees.  Haha, doom is written all over my ugly face, hahaha.  It is not difficult at all to figure out who and/or what is actually in control here.  I think I’ll listen to Zappa or Collins when I go driving around.  Then I’ll chop up some fish and eggs.  Then I’ll do a little light reading.  That was a fascinating little revelation about Wonder Woman the other day though fans have known that for years.  Sometimes I’ll videos of teary eyed folks describing alien abduction experiences but I’ll usually grow a little too scared and have to stop.  I picked up a memoir about alcoholism a while back and wonder if that is what I’ll read next or if I’ll go for another Steve King novel.  There’s some grimoires waiting right around the corner though.  I’ve lost it, that’s for damn sure.  But I think I am well into the process of recovery.  I may again know….  Doble Sentido.  Good grief.  Shiny to the end.  It would be so perfect after a show.  Please, I just want to be belittled.  He said GARF when the arrow went through his head; I always liked that.  i'm betting that Suspiria remake is going to be awful, just awful.  Anyone for tennis?! 

Need to see more Gerhard (shocking monkeys too!)!

So I did go out and purchase Bon Iver’s new album 22, A Million.  This is actually the first Bon Iver album in my collection.  I gotta say when I put it on it was like music to my ears.  That’s because it is music.  But I did and do find it to be a very compelling piece of work.  It encourages many returns, I wanna swim in it for a while, really get to know it.  It’s a cold album, detached, just how I love. I always forget how strong an album is Let’s Take it to the Stage by Funkadelic, great slab of sweaty funk and soul and damn but that last song really trips me out sometimes though not quite as much as the last song off Pearl Jam’s 1995 album Vitalogy.  Wow, Vitalogy, what a great piece of work!  Summer of Sam is on the television while I write all this crap.  One of my favorite films ever.  Spike Lee is such an inspiring artist.  One of the greats.  I watched a little bit of baseball at some point today.  Athletics game.  Baseball is my life.  I just learned that I’ve been pronouncing Bon Iver’s name wrong this entire time, likely due to the face that I’m a filthy degenerate.  I heard a recent review which made a comparison of their most recent album to Peter Gabriel’s discography but I gotta say I don’t hear it.  Not yet anyway.  And I’m a huge Gabriel fan!  I love self-titled and melt and Security and So and Us and the score to The Last Temptation of Christ is gorgeous!  Fucking gorgeous says I!  This new Bon Iver does not sound like any of that stuff to my ears but maybe my musical palette just isn’t refined enough to identify this or perhaps it is more in the lyrics (which I have not yet really investigated having only had the album for less than a day). I will say I did not notice until after the purchase the rampant occult and Masonic symbols adorning the cover and lyrics book (and the first music vid from what I hear).  That definitely gives me some pause!  Not really sure what to think.  Yet.  Those old Peter Gabriel albums though, man what great tunes.  Modern love can be a strain (incidentally, David Bowie also has a song called Modern Love which I prefer to the Gabriel song though Gabriel’s tune is also great, stormy and atmospheric).  Could Last Temptation be Scorsese’s finest work?  Probably not THE finest but I would rank it up there. Or maybe it would be THE finest!  What a film!  It’s interesting how many non-Catholics slam Catholicism yet endorse Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ which is a very Catholic vision.  Many people love wallowing in their own filthy ignorance.  That is no insult toward Mel or his film however which I find to be a tremendous piece of art.  I’m not Catholic either though I take no umbrage with Catholicism.  

The washing machine is haunted!  It’s hard to tell who’s who through the collective pale veil of all these white women!  October is here at last and that can only mean marathons of the most horrific variety.  I had oatmeal and black coffee for breakfast, make no mistake.  Oatmeal has the best of my love.  

Pleasures of the flesh.  Temptations run rampant all around us.  I suspect absolutely no one is capable of being entirely faithful.  Am I wrong?  Is it luck?  My socks sometimes match my shoes.  There’s a serial killer on the loose, running rampant through the streets and all you can fucking think about is getting your rocks off!  We’re all standing around on metaphysical street corners, waiting to take our pick.  Good grief, modern rock is shit.  

I keep waiting for that moment where I am naked and on my hands and knees, utterly confused with palpable terror setting in very soon.  I look up and then around and the horrors begin to break down what little remains of my mind.  Please don’t touch me oh God please don’t touch me I can’t get out of this.  What are we gonna play?  I make a fist and then I don’t have the strength to even do that.  I am opened up.  A moment late I’m on a city bus and everyone looks normal and ugly and then in the next second everyone looks otherworldly and terrifying and I start to laugh.  We are all in for one great big surprise and I don’t think anyone is going to like what’s in store for us.  

The last song I listened to before I fell asleep last night was The Electrician by The Walker Brothers.  That one speaks to me on a deeply personal level.  I’ll probably smear butter all over my body at some point before getting into a fight with a group of heavily armored men.  When that happens I hope someone will be blasting The Eletrician somewhere in the background.  It’s all about control you see.  Relationships and love make people stupid.  So does religion in many ways.  We are all weak minded simpering idiots.  I’ve been dipping my toe into the waters of Frank Zappa lately.  Tis exciting to get into a new (albeit old) artist, especially one with such a massive, confusing and unwieldy discography! 

Why do we have to live in so much pain?  I think I’ll fashion a pair of wings out of some construction paper and then leap from the roof of my posh flat!  I like to imagine the wings catastrophically failing and myself plummeting to the earth where I collide with a hotdog stand with the impact being so great that my body is rendered indistinguishable from the hot dog matter.  Then I like to imagine a few stray dogs coming over and gingerly licking the red pavement and nibbling at my splattered flesh, guts and brain while a few nearby sensitive old ladies kneel over and toss their cookies.  Before I do all that though I’ll probably drink a glass of tea (Earl Grey, hot).  Nothing closer to heart than a good cup of British char.  I take it dark, no sugars. 

Let’s all ruminate on life’s inherent emptiness for a while, eh?  

gots to eat more powder, maybe then, and a big yellow book thing to study or whatever

I was listening to the song One Tree Hill by U2 (a personal fave of mine, both the song and the band) when it really solidified in my brain: I cannot truly count on anyone.  Everyone lets me down and I imagine that I let everyone down as well.  I was also listening to the album Una Pequena Parte Del Mundo by Amaral and a few Funkadelic albums that same day and this only helped me to grow more certain in this conclusion.  It is a shame that people are so gosh darn unreliable.  What flawed and ugly things we are.  How disgusting, our sexual desires and our bleeding hearts.  Upon returning home I probably watched a Dario Argento movie and drank a bottle of wine, maybe I ate a bowl of cereal though if I did I’m sure I ate it fast so as to maintain maximum crunchiness.  The next morning I likely had highly explosive diarrhea due to that rich combination of alcohol and milk.  Small pleasures, eh?  I’m still thinking about that book Revival that I mentioned in my last blog post.  What a fantastic read.  Make no mistake though: despite the fact that I watched an Argento flick, Lucio Fulci is still my favorite of those great, magnificent stylish Giallo directors and I only grow ever more certain of that with each miserable passing year of my pathetic excuse for a life.  Still, Argento does have a way with the leather gloves, fuck they always look so great through his lens.  I’m not sure if I’m going to read the book Chariot of the Gods but I think there is a distinct possibility.  I wonder if I could find a vintage copy?!  Perhaps if I start hunting through old bookstores.  Perhaps if I just build a cabin out in the woods and live off the land?!  Maybe then I’d be able to get over my deeply unhealthy obsession with Italian female bodybuilder Mavi Gioia?!  But she’s so pretty my inner voices scream at me!!!  She’s so pretty!!!  She is though.  I would never deny it.  She makes me weep.  Tears of joy.  Man, I love Pedro Bell’s artwork and it is a supremely important and indelible part of that mythology.  Man, would I pick Eddie Hazel as my favorite guitarist if someone was holding a loaded standard police issue Glock 9 millimeter handgun to my head and threatening to blow my brains out lest I make and vocally announce my choice?  I’m not sure but it’s definitely possible.  Hazel is a clear influence on John Frusciante though I would never even think of picking Frusciante as an answer to that question though I do greatly love (sometimes even adore) his many solo albums.  PBX Funicular Intaglio Zone might be favorite of those though I also love The Will to Death and Shadows Collide with People.  I can hear my mother call.  Actually, that was a lie.  I can’t hear anyone call right now.  That new Bon Iver album is kind of intriguing.  I heard that other new song by Metallica that just came out, Moth to a Flame or something like that.  I’m starting to feel a little bored by them.  Bored is such a piss weak criticism.  Thank You for letting me discover Scott Walker.  I crave detachment.  I’ll probably go blast Low or Lodger or Tilt or something and then watch a David Lynch movie.  Probably Lost Highway but maybe Eraserhead and I also have Inland Empire ready to go at a moment’s notice.  Boy, I’m a stupid and close minded individual.

I put some ice in my coffee.  A few years back Robert Crumb released an illustrated version of the book of Genesis.  It is a beautiful of piece of work.  I love Crumb’s art style.  Genesis continues to be one of the difficult books of the Bible to get through for me.  I recently read there are some who interpret a vision from the book of Ezekiel as something akin to a UFO sighting.  I shall investigate to see what popular opinion is on this.  Interesting.  What is dangerous?    

Deep Red is great.  I won’t deny that.  Though I think I may even prefer The Bird With the Crystal Plumage.  And Suspiria of course.  But those leather gloves.  Wow.  

Greg Rucka is one of my favorite comics writers ever (and I guess one of my favorite writers ever then, hmmm).  Certainly, it bears much more thought and consideration as to whether there needs to be a distinction.  I am looking so forward to reading his new storyarc on Wonder Woman as his run on that character from a decade or so ago is one of the all-time great comics runs in my estimation.  

Magic Moon went inside my mouth and I did nothing to prevent it.  Quite the contrary.  I guess a birthday was in order though and there was a band all wearing matching jackets and candles and cake and the denier was high and shiny.  Magic Moon was strangling me and there were tears heading down my face though I think I was smiling.  I’m not sure what joy existed behind it though.  

All these politics are twisting inside of us like bad oysters. What does that even mean? I’ve always said I think the majority of people should not vote because the majority of us are too stupid to really understand the choice we make.  Myself included of course.  I don’t know that I’ve talked to anyone this year who has a truly well informed opinion about the upcoming election or its candidates.  Hahaha, what am I saying?  I actually do know, of course I know: I have not.  

I think I’ll throw on my neon pink thong and go roller-skating for a little while, maybe grab a slice downtown afterward.  Blackout by Britney Spears is another great album like those I mentioned earlier which really captures that great sense of detachment and truly speaks to the enduring battle between man and machine.  It’s so cold.  Icy.  I wonder if the dogs are still digging up darkness at this hour?    

Man, I gotta catch up!  There’s just too much funk out there!  In good unrelated news I’ve been able to get my breathing under control every time those used pairs of hosiery are wrapped around my head.  It was getting scary there for a while. But sexy scary!  That’s my favorite kind of scary.  Actually my favorite kind is that really awful middle of the night, can’t sleep, absolutely terrified sick feeling in the pit of your stomach kind of scary.  But beggars can’t be choosers!  They can be losers though fortunately and that’s why I am both a beggar and a loser.  

For years now I’ve thought of myself chiefly as a surrogate father figure but to whom exactly I could not say.  

Reality has a lot of gems [(but to which reality am I referring?) and Chiklis/Influence 1]

I owe you.

So I’m not entirely sure what to think.  Mayte Garcia’s memoir The Most Beautiful: My Life With Prince now has a release date and cover.  It is a real tangible thing and the reaction of its very existence has been controversial with many speculating as to her motivations and whether this would have been allowed a release were Prince still alive.  Mayte has since promised that the book will not be some tabloidesque tell-all but rather a loving and truthful tribute of sorts to her time with Prince and that relationship.  I guess there is no way to know for sure until the book comes out.  It is very easy for these types of things to become exploitative and certainly there was a strong element of tragedy in their relationship.  But it is the audience who will determine its relative success or failure. Though I will she has always seemed very genuine to me (though my opinion is worthless).  I will say that some of Prince’s best and most gorgeous songs were written about Mayte and that entire era from 1991’s Diamonds and Pearls and the following amazing albums like Love Symbol, Come, The Gold Experience and Emancipation is probably my favorite Prince era ever.  He seemed to have a renewed energy and explosive amount of creativity much like his classic run of 80’s albums (though it is probably true that those 90’s works were not quite as groundbreaking or influential as the 80’s stuff).  The Child of the Sun album Mayte herself recorded (all songs written by Prince) is also a fave of mine from that era so I’m basically saying this part of Prince’s life is a strong point of interest for yours falsely.  I say that I’m not entirely sure what to think but I know for certain I will purchase this book on the day of release and probably gobble it all up that same week (figuratively as well as literally).  So wait for my feedback next year!  Also, I do like the title and cover.    

Speaking of books, I recently finished Revival by Stephen King and found it to be a most excellent, highly entertaining all around great read.  I am a huge fan of King’s post-accident work and it is probably my favorite King era.  This one in particular had a highly satisfying and horrifying Lovecraftian conclusion and I felt good that I was not able to really predict at all where it was heading until a page or two before it got there!  I’m of several minds as to what I shall read next.  Part of me has a strong desire for more King and I just purchased the paperback of Mr. Mercedes.  Though as this is the first part of a recently completed trilogy (the third book released mere months ago) I’m not sure if that is the best route to go.  I’ve also got George Clinton’s memoir Brothas Be, Yo Like George, Ain't That Funkin' Kinda Hard On You? ready to go and some other book whose name and author I can’t recall though it sounded interesting.  Or I could go for The Goldfinch and catch up on all that literary water cooler talk I missed out on for being so ignorantly late to the rich and wonderful Donna Tartt party!  Time to break out some chance cubes to help render my decision!  Maybe I’ll just read a book on ancient Chinese history and then gouge out my own eyeballs!

It was just the other fateful day when my Michael Chiklis’s album Influence arrived in the email, via 2-day delivery from Amazon.  The case itself is digipak as opposed to a hard plastic case.  I think Digipaks are quite attractive but I would ultimately prefer a plastic case as they are less susceptible to wear and tear.  I set aside the outer layer of plastic wrap that I may add it my collection and perhaps wrap it tight around my face later on.  Then I removed the booklet and smelled it and then I smelled the CD.  They were both pleasant in an olfactory sense.  The cover art is intriguing with Chiklis’s image residing high above a partially visible earth and his name and album title centered in between.  In some ways it is not so dissimilar to the cover of Prince’s 2007 album Planet Earth (an album I’ve always found wholly enjoyable, featuring an all-time classic in Chelsea Rodgers).  It is not difficult to discern what is being portrayed here: Chiklis is positing an eclectic musical taste and approach for his album, suggesting that INFLUENCEs from all over the world in some ways contributed to this release’s varied sound (I recall a recent interview where he named dropped albums like Security by Peter Gabriel and Hounds of Love by Kate Bush as among his favorites so, at least according to yours falsely, the man has good taste). Interesting to note that itunes refers to it as the Michael Chiklis Band yet the CD case itself only notes Michael Chiklis.  I am going to listen to this album.  Once.  A dozen times.  A baker’s dozen.  A thousand times.  However many it takes.  I am going to give it a fair shake as the kid’s say and judge it as album and do my best to separate it from the man’s celebrity.  Already I can feel it’s pull over me taking hold. 

he thought he saw her walking into the library.  His pulse quickened, he felt blood rushing to his face.  this is all so trite.  she looked just like her, same smile, fair skin and red lipstick, dark eyes.  The dress even looked like something she would wear, so colorful, perennially spring even during winter.  it reminded him of the first time he saw her in a dress. 

one day, he will cut this connection.  but when there is the slightest favor shown...she is going to be living with him forever.  

I watched The Neon Demon last night while drinking cheap white wine and then cheap whiskey on the rocks (the rocks were made from standard hard tap water; I don’t buy into all that talk about purifiers and filters and softeners.  Horseshit says I!).  What an interesting director Nicolas Winding Refn is.  From the trailers and plot description I originally thought the movie would be like Dario Argento’s 1977 classic Suspiria but I was wrong as fuck!  It actually reminded me a bit more a great French-Belgian flick from 2009 called Amer and directed by Helene Cattet and Bruno Forzani but I’m not quite sure why.  What the hell do I know though?!  Anyway, good movie.  great score too!  real beefy.  

The flare jean is making a comeback. 

I frequently wonder where you are.  All the days of my life.  

pasta 2 the core

The White Princess has returned, that is most intriguing.  I was watching an episode of The Flash recently and the final scenes featured Peter Gabriel’s classic hit In Your Eyes from his 1986 album So.  I must say I was surprised by its but found it to work remarkably well, particularly in its introduction slash revelation of the Hawkgirl character (with whom I am already developing an incredibly unhealthy obsession). I would like to make some time the other day to re-read H.P. Lovecraft’s short story The Colour Out of Space but it remains to be seen if I will follow through.  Maybe I’ll read outside.  Wouldn’t that be a hoot?!  But I did!  I did it!  I would also enjoy going to the cinema today.  I am a very meaningless individual.  I constantly taken aback by own uselessness.  I typically turn to the bottle at night though sometimes in the early afternoon and even sometimes in the wee hours of the morning.  I sometimes think I may be trying to suppress something via alcohol consumption. 

I watched The Invitation last night and found it to be refreshingly above average.  In particular, the first hour was rife with moments that gave me the creepies though it very nearly fell to pieces in a final 20 minutes that was all too typical.  The last minute twist was clever but could not undo the preceding 20 minutes of damage to the tale’s structural integrity.  I’ve watched grim and horror type movies recently like The Hallow, the new Blair Witch movie, From Beyond and Rob Zombie’s new flick 31.  I think there may have been another but I can’t remember.  I listened to Madonna’s 1992 album Erotica a lot yesterday.  It’s a beautiful electric artistic work.  

The reasons could not be clearer as to why he ventured there.  Though one has to wonder if anyone was paying sufficient attention to him to glean those transparent motivations; he is such a forgettable lad.  

I’m so intrigued by Michael Chiklis’s debut album.  Do I dare go for it?  is it just a slab of vanity fueled corporate rock?!  Or that is being dismissive and short-sighted?  and would it even matter?!  I love corporate rock and i adore vanity projects!  And at the same time I’m also so taken by Corey Feldman’s recent Today Show performance.  The internet backlash was far too harsh.  The chorus hook is actually quite catchy and there’s an interesting genre synthesis taking place with the dubstep background, hip hop touches and Feldman’s 80’s metal thrash voice.  the song has it’s charms.  I submit that it is folk’s preconceived notions of the man himself that fuel their tactless criticism.  Also, I liked his dancing!  And the bass player sure was purdy.  And that song comes from a double album?!  I love self indulgences.  Which leads us back to Chikli’s album.  His influences are grand: Bruce Springstee, David Bowie, Peter Gabriel, Kate Bush, love em all (he also cited Queen as an influence)!  Yet, does the man have any musical talent himself?  Would he ever have a change at mass distributing an album were it not for his acting career?  I suppose so since with today’s technologies anyone can upload an album online and get it out to people.  But would he have been granted any press coverage for it?  what do i know!? i don't know this man's heart.  i think i'll give it a chance.  no harm in giving something a chance.  no fate but what we make.  i truly am a sad individual deep down inside.  i cry every day but no one sees me.  i've put Feldman's performance below cause i love it so damn much.

Who is the man who assisted in his death.  Walking through the rain, carrying around this responsibility. I was in that very city.  I came so close.  I left a message there on the bridge.  If only I’d known.  I never venture outside of this zone.  I never have the fortitude to do what is necessary.  I am truly surprised that I’ve been allowed to live this long. 

Jealous, wanted to be the one to make her laugh.  Wedges for the first time, don’t really go for the alternatives anymore. 

Diet coke commercial.  You can’t watch a Warner Bros. movie without a Warner Bros. ball cap. 

It was Batman Day the other day and to celebrate I ate a big bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios.  I also listened extensively to one of my favorite podcasts – the Batman-On-Film Podcast – wherein the hosts ranked in order from least fave to most fave their favorite of all the Batman theatrically released films.  It was fascinating to hear everyone’s lists.  Ranking the batman movies myself would  be a Herculean task the likes of which I am not fit to tackle.  Though Batman Returns would be number 1, I know that for sure.  Even the great Nolan trilogy could not move that spot on my PERSONAL list.  But where would Burton’s original 89 flick rank?!  Or the 1966 Adam West movie?!  In what order would the Nolan films appear?!  How about the great animated film Mask of the Phantasm?!  And where does the recent Batman v Superman lie on the list?!  These are daunting questions.  I don’t have the answers.  I never have the answers. 

I better wait for a more highly defined depiction of the return of the White Princess.  Do even I know what I’m talking about at this point?!  Highly unlikely.  Everything is becoming lost in a truly pathetic psycho-sexual circus.  I don’t think I can stop the coming of the psychopomps.  Oh, but look at how they dance in the air, everything so pretty and clear.  He only lost his impotency once he was made to feel useless again.  You know where you’ll find me at 2 in the morning: in an old beaten down Chinese restaurant and bar, reading a fortune cookie and working up the strength to walk out of there without falling down.  I never realized how irregular the nights are until very recently.  If I told a professional about my sleeping habits they raise their brows.  I’m talking about fears and tears and all sorts of awful things.  Lodger is truly great.  all the different styles, was this the portrait of a man no longer in control?  I don’t know.  Voices betray us.  Love is such a funny thing.  Everyone is selfish and terrible.  I hate it when people are near. 

Woefully in adequate in every way.  Why doesn’t anything make any sense any more.  A cowardly fear response.  Though he role in things is utterly useless.  I am going to self-sabotage.  Perhaps I should just omit myself as a favor for God. 

Brad and Angelina are getting a divorce?!  Is there hope for any of us?!    

with more emphasis on the terrifying No Man's Land cult leader style as opposed to the crime boss

So, it was just confirmed this (yesterday) morning that Joe Manganiello is indeed Deathstroke in Ben Affleck’s upcoming Batman movie (possibly appearing in Justice League first).  I’m excited by this casting despite knowing precious little of this man’s work.  Though appearance is always the most important aspect of casting and this man has the look (his body’s slammin!  His face is hecka jammin!).  Still, is Deathstroke interesting enough to be a good antagonist?!  Well, he was in Arrow season 2 so I guess I answered my own question.  Though I think he may work better in coalition with other villains.  I’m glad we’re getting a new baddie for the big screen but I would have preferred Black Mask!  What the shit do I know though?!  I’m sure I’ll still see it 27 times in the theatre! Speaking of Affleck I just watched the trailer for his upcoming Live By Night in which he directs and stars!  Looks great!  Although I’m not totally sold on the cast.  I’ll be there to view it though.  

The trailer for Underworld Blood Wars was unleashed upon the world yesterday and gloriously looks exactly like every other movie in this series.  I’ll probably buy the box set soon and then marathon all 4 already existing flicks for a week straight while consuming gallons and gallons A1 Steak Sauce (it’s that important).  All of this will be in preparation for the January release of this latest installment.  Cinema buffs know studios release their finest films in the month of January.  Still, Kate Beckinsale is a great actress.  I’m jazzed as shit to have great flicks like Love & Friendship and great shlock like Underworld Blood Wars (and likely The Disappointments Room) being released in such close proximity. 

 
Zack De La Rocha’s new song is interesting.  It intrigues me enough that I would check out the album if an album is released.  

Cars by Gary Numan is such a perfect song.  That whole damn album [The Pleasure Principle (originally released in YEAR)] is jolly great!  I spent the better part of last night playing that iconic bassline on my low end Fender Jazz Bass.  This explains why my hands were so cramped and sore this morning.  As for the soreness in my wrists, haha, well, that’s another matter entirely.  Damn, I want to listen to that song right now.  And then Annie Christian by Prince.  Those two songs go so well together.  But if I’m going to listen to Annie Christian I might as well listen to the whole Controversey album because that’s another stone cold fucking classic piece of art!  

Those who know me best know of my unfortunate penchant for joyously hyperventilating (and sometimes passing out) when a curvy Mexican vedette wraps her used and deliriously aromatic pantyhose tightly around my face (oh I love vedettes so much!) but they likely also know of my long standing and deep seated love for the music of Columbian songstress Shakira!  I can still recall with such clarity hearing her music for the first time and being taken by its strange otherworldly beauty.  In particular, hearing a live recording of Si Te Vas and being so deeply moved.  Shakira was incredibly important in the growth of my musical taste and I imagine I would have pretty boring listening experiences these days were I not open to her tunes.  And I’ve said it before but it remains true: many of my most intense searches of discovery for new and lovely music have been made in effort to find something that gives me the same feeling as from when I heard Si Te Vas (or many many many of her songs).  And recently I have begun listening to Monica Naranjo and I must say…that first album of hers…and Tarantula…I’m gettin the old feels again!  Time to order her complete discography!  Ah music!  Ah Shakira.  It was usch a wonderful and important time; I was young and stupid enough to still have dreams and actually believe they could come true.  It’s kinda fun to revisit and relive those ignorant times.  Dame Tu Calor, so pretty, what a tune.  And is it possible Amaral took a bit of inspiration from it for their great song Salir Corriendo?!  Fuck, I have no idea but it’s certainly possible!  

Lady Gaga’s new song Perfect Illusion…hmmmm…I love her vocals on it but…it’s a bit on the short side, the key changes feels largely unnecessary and the damn chorus melodic hook is so blatantly ripped off from Papa Don’t Preach by Madonna that I was tempted to rip out tongue and pluck out my eyeballs!  I know today’s pathetic degenerate youth probably don’t listen to any music made before 2005 so they won’t notice but I’m not the only one crying foul!  I’m not the fucking only one, damnit!  Still, her vocals do sound great and even if this tune hasn’t set my hirsute ass on fire like I may have wanted I’m still gonna check out the album!  Such is the nature of wisdom. 

Not quite sure what I’m going to read next by my options are plentiful!  It could be George Clinton’s autobiography, it could be that old Steve King book From a Buick 8 or I could finish off Donna Tartt’s bibliography and read the much acclaimed The Goldfinch!  Maybe a Redwall  book!  Or House of Leaves!  Or some other fucking thing!  That copy of Genesis Revisited is looming around too.  We must weigh the consequences of all our actions.  Regardless of these choices I will surely commence catching up with Usagi Yojimbo as well!  

The Little Star came down from the sky and when she opened her hands something like lighting shot from her fingers and surrounded her and then spun outward.  I was on my knees when she spoke and her voice was like honey but I could not understand any of the words.  She turned her head and I saw she somehow had two faces, one human and one of a lynx.  Her body was sometimes pitch black and appeared hard as diamonds and other times it was white and seemed to have no solid form at all.  She spoke again and light came out of her mouth and I had to close my eyes or she would have blinded me and then her voice was in my head and I understood two things she said: “Don’t be afraid” and “I am the most….”

 
I’m probably gonna eat some oysters tonight.  

The red one with skirt, the bunny one and the super one (dreaming of no knee pads)

Someone on the Arrow crew must be a Nine Inch Nails fan.  The Way Out is Through and all that. I have been LOVING season 4 though!  Worshipping it!!   and that episode with John Constantine!  Great shit!  The magic elements are totally working for me and have given the series a slug in the arm!  Oh, and Nyssa returned, swoon!  Be still my pounding heart!  

Yesterday was Michael Keaton’s birthday.  I drank an entire bottle of cheap red wine in his honor.  Keaton is a great actor, a true artist. It hurts to reaffirm what a worthless individual I am but it feels good to revel in his work: Batman, Beetlejuice, Batman Returns, Clean and Sober, Pacific Heights, One Good Cop, The Paper, Multiplicity, Jackie Brown, Live From Baghdad, The Merry Gentleman, Game 6, Birdman, Spotlight, so many great Keaton classics.  I love you Keats, always.  I fucking love The Paper!  

I absolutely fucking love the Batman comics by Doug Moench and Kelley Jones!  Just fucking love em, what else can I say?!  Red Rain and Bloodstorm are 2 of the best Batman stories ever.  Jones’s art is so hauntingly gothic amazeballs beautiful.  They are truly inspiring works of art.  I’ve already placed an order for the hardcover featuring their post-Knightful run on the titular Batman comic in the mid-nineties.  I also need to order that Batman Dark Joker The Wild hardcover thing that I saw in ads decades ago but never had the guts to pull the trigger on.  Oh, I’ll order it damn it and then I will read the piss and shit right out of it then!  Then I will squeal with delight and probably watch some luchadora videos!  Oh Marcela, oh Estrellita, oh Princesa…please, I will lose everytime, I so badly want to lose!  

I also love the way Harvey Keitel screams, especially in flicks like Bad Lieutenant and The Piano.  Whenever I scream I always try to scream in the same way.  I don’t like Aerosmith but I love the name of one of their albums: Pump.  That’s a great fucking name for an album.  If I had absolute control of the world I would make sure every album was named Pump.  You can order real human skeletons from India if you need some.  Accept no substitutes.  

Batman Returns and Mulholland Drive.  All time favorites?!  Fucking maybe!  Oh man, I am such a pathetic loser, I hate myself so much.  I’m so ugly and worthless.  The world would be such better if I just….

I do not want my interest to wane.  I do not want to lose this part of myself.  This was something you created and I don’t want to believe it can ever be undone.  I haven’t even been able to…. That 90’s period, love it.  The Love Symbol album, Blue Light, so many, so much, the sounds of love.  I finally realize how much I need this.  That emptiness is paralyzing.  

No Code and Yield, both great albums.  What the fuck else can I really say?  Heathen too!  Love Heathen!  Especially those last 4 songs, they all work so well together. 

I recently purchased Love & Friendship on blu ray.  It’s so far one of my favorite films of this ever miserable fucking year.  Now I plan to watch it 17 times in a row while eating undercooked red white and drinking wine by the bottle.  I really hate this fucking world! But I’m on top of it baby.  That’s not me, don’t worry, hahaha.  But seriously, Love & Friendship, what a great flick.  I think Kate Beckinsale is really underrated.  I also bought the second season of The Flash that I may continue my superhero show binge watching ways.  I finished Supergirl season 1 and I’m halfway through Arrow season 4 which means I still have the rest of that, all of Flash season 2 and all of Legends of Tomorrow season 1 to get through before the new seasons start next month.  Still, my passion is equal to the task.  I’m a productive member of society!  And I still need to get through Daredevil and Jessica Jones!  Man, I’m such a worthless loser.  I should just finally go through with it and….it would really spare the world a lot of misery.  Oh, I just feel so awful.  Quicksand, that can be my comfort for the moment.  I will never believe in myself.  

I was listening to the Pet Shop Boys whilst driving around.  Just starting to get into those fellas.  I hope to listen to them more.  And left to my own devices I probably would.  I saw some interesting Cthulhu collections the other day.  I thought about buying one but didn’t.  I’ve thought about having a successful life but I won’t.  boy, I’m really down today!  It’s probably because I woke up this morning and I was still me!  
 
Cream, right there, on the tops of her fingers.  Everything comes down to the tips of her fingers.  It is the purest source of self expression.  I am sure impure.  There are countless different ways each and every day that we remain without faith.  Do you understand what I mean?  He was faced with a choice.  They were being split up.  and he went with her. he would have licked the steering wheel if possible.  There was perfume in the air.  It was on everything.  they were no significant words passed.  What are you going to do now as a clever excuse.  He would have transmogrified if possible.  He wished so powerfully in that moment to transmogrify into banana parfait.  It would have been a sublime death.  But instead there were tears welling up in his eyes over his absolute inadequacies.  This is so utterly wrong, everything here is wrong.  Please do not talk to him, please do not say a single word.  And earlier, when his name was on her lips, why did it feel so awful?  what is lurking inside?  Please forgive him.  It was a momentary lapse.  A beautiful lapse.  Side by side and it wasn’t even planned.  What did John say?  Descending endlessly and I don’t even have to try.  

Moonbeam levels, I love it so much, perfection. 

i will need to reconsider 3 (SW in case i forget) !

I’m still ruminating over my magical thoughts from yesterday.  I guess there is ultimately no winning here with yours falsely.  Because though I whine ceaselessly over the convenience of magic’s strength as the plot necessitates it, I certainly do not want a long, drawn out explanation for exactly how it works and when it is most effective.  That goes for any kind of power set, magic or not!  So I guess I’m at a total loss here!  I’m the one with the problem, not you.  You’re not the fraud, I’m the fraud, so don’t worry about it.  If we were sitting down to a lavish Thanksgiving dinner right now I would get drunk and then flip the table over in a rage and you would think me as a perfect ass.  

I watched In the Mouth of Madness last night.  I believe it was the first time I’d ever watched it on blu ray disc but likely not the last.  I view it as John Carpenter’s last great flick and likely the purest representation of Lovecraft’s writing ever committed to celluloid (despite the fact that it is not actually based on anything Lovecraft wrote).  Three word sentence.  I’m coming up a bit short today but that should come as little to no surprise.  Becky G is the Yellow Ranger?!  That’s unexpected but not unpleasant.  She did a great job in that Thalia song Como Tu No Hay Dos!  What a great fucking song!  Love that album.  

Whatever happened to that great era of high-cut neon?  And one.  one is so much better than two.  Two bears in one den.  That’s as good an explanation as any.  But do not try to equate yourself one iota with this gentleman.  There is no resemblance whatsoever.  Do the dead interest themselves in the affairs of the living?” that is an interesting question.  Though it is hard to imagine why.  We are such dreadfully boring and disgusting things.  Desire is so repulsive.  It may finally be time for me to read Psychic Self-Defense: The Classic Instruction Manual for Protecting Yourself Against Paranormal Attack by Dion Fortune.  But should I also read Morning of the Magicians or would that simply be too risky.  On the surface it would seem the themes from yesterday’s post are still continuing to this humble day but the reality could not be further from the truth.  And what about Communion?  I’m on my hands and knees, looking straight ahead, I don’t understand anything going on around me but I feel very afraid.  I wasn’t talking about a female search for love, just to be clear.  What would be the diameter of such a craft?  I was alluding to a true story.  Aren’t they all?

Everyone is going to disappoint you in the end.  So now that you know, nothing should come as a surprise.  Satellite Kid, you have provided access to all the secret documents and all the most important I ever could have dreamed of.     

The unconscious intelligence.  That is a very interesting concept.  Ripping things out of books, inserting whatever diseased thoughts come to mind.  Yielding reams of information, verbatim fascinations and triggers of rich verbal mountains tops.  Cutups are probably far more valuable than I’ve ever imagined.  Certainly I’m just an ugly nobody so my ignorance should come as little surprise.  

Outside and earthling are something like brothers, right?  Or lovers.  Or maybe it’s a parasitic relationship (though that could also be classified as lovers, yes?)  yes, they are somehow part of one another.  And that last great neoclassicist trilogy; it was ours as the precious hours passed by and we all had to confront our heathen ways in this horrible botched reality we created.  These days are certainly the strangest of all.  And what came afterward.  It certainly cannot be described as a coda anymore.  It was some type of summation.  But what was the intent?  This is the truly haunting question.  Because you did not know at that time, did you?  So was it the start of something?  All the eras were hit.  And then the end.  Transcend ending .  yes, everything at the same time.  stuttering and shimmering.  That final spell was not related to anyone, was it?  And now grey eyes stare at me every night, inspiring and terrifying.  What do you stand for?  

Boy did I really fuck up by not ordering I Dream of Wires a lot sooner.  I will likely regret that mistake for the rest of my miserable and already regret filled lie.  How could I possibly bend my elbow with that massive sword coming out of my arm?!  I know what your saying: But Ricardo, TV station helicopters don’t have pontoons.  Haha, how right you are child.  Oh, those wily Russian astronomers and their secrets.  The system 164695, I should have known hahaha.  Oh, those crazy little signals, who on earth knows what they could be?  My copy of New Jack City just arrived.  Poor Snipes.  I am going to make a very cholesterol laden dinner here in a few hours.  

Yes, please be very careful about how many of those you wrap around your face.  I know it feels beautiful but you have to be careful!  Years ago I read a stupid amount of Green Lantern comics books and loved every second of it!  I think I’ll buy the trade paperbacks of those comics – almost all written by the great Geoff Johns who did just as stellar work on The Flash – and then boldly re-read them!  My mission to see every Rothko in the world before I shove off this mortal coil is off to a very slow start but my determination remains strong as ever.  

It’s still difficult to parse out.  Nothing is meant to last forever.  Contempt was bred.  If Tom Waits ever commits to another tour I will do whatever it takes to be at one of those shows.  The same goes for Kate Bush.  Which Waits album is my favorite?  It’s honestly impossible to choose but right at this miserable moment I would say Blood Money.  I loved when that recent X-Files miniseries incorporated one of those songs!  I loved that recent X-Files miniseries.  I hope there be more!  The red shoes though…wow….

She wants to be the glowing moon in all our nights.  That’s a cute little sentiment.  

that once noble captain now lives in her hat (what a great life!)!

This blog post is so magical!  I have magic coming out of my pores.  Word on the streets is that The Dark Tower has just wrapped up filming and is in the sweaty process of getting a rough cut completed.  A trailer is allegedly set for October with the release date coming February of next year.  I’ve been vocal about my misgivings on this project, particularly in the horrifying history of screenwriter Akiva Goldsman but I am still remaining hopeful thanks to the GREAT casting.  As a diehard fan of the books whose read the whole series a whopping TWO times I so desire this movie(s) to be good.  Though I would happily settle for an astonishingly bad movie if good is out of the question.  It’s such a bizarre mythology, such a weird mixture of fantasy, horror, adventure and urban stuff, I do not envy the filmmakers their adaptation task.  But I will be there.  ever vigilant.  Ever waiting for signs of threats extraterrestrial.  I wait still. 

So it was around won oh clock in the mornin’ last night when I began viewing Arrow Season 4 whilst consuming a hearty bowl of Lucky Charms cereal with soy milk (cause cows are for calves).  Returning to this program was like slipping into a warm bath.  Actually, it was nothing like that because I generally find baths to be quite disgusting.  Unless the bathtub is filled with cold Cristal!  But imagine the cardiac arrest I experienced when I realized this season was going to involved mysticism, chiefly in the form of its principal antagonist.  Hence my magic references earlier on.  Magic is tricky thing for me, even that word, something about just sounds…youngsterish.  I don’t know why though, it’s not a bad word.  The thing with magic and mysticism is I’ve always found that regardless of how detailed the writers explain the “rules” or structure, the actual strength or ability of the respective magic always conveniently changes depending on plot necessity and is consequently rarely a satisfying element to the story.  However, that is largely true of any type of power set in any popular fantasy/supernatural/superhero/adventure thing so I’m not sure how valid my complaint is.   

In this day and age of so much genre overlap I’m not sure if there is really a significant difference between a power set derived through magic and someone who is simply a mutant or metahuman; it seems to largely equate to the same outcome.  I will say that in episode 2 they did show the villain cutting himself and worshiping and calling upon a dark god statue thing which is definitely suggestive of witchcraft and black magic as we know it in the real world so I can sort of see that being a character trait, hmmmm. 

Speaking of magic, I’m becoming ever more excited at the announced Justice League Dark movie (or Dark Universe or whatever the hell it’s going to be called) despite the fact that it doesn’t even yet have a projected release date.  That team is host to a veritable slew of magical folk including Zatanna who has always been one of the great loves of my life (along with Wonder Woman and Vampirella).  Please let her wear the fishnets, I beg you, PLEASE!  If Harley could do it, she can do it, if Harley could do it, she can do it!  But yeah, ol’ Zatanna is magical and a great character and I’ve been dying of girlish glee at all the fan casting (including Demi Lovato, which give me a white hot heart attack if it happened).  The rumors of Eiza Gonzalez playing her also fill me EXPLOSIVE joy.  Of course, it’s all just rumors.  So let’s just wait and see!  Oh, she is just such a lovely character!  If they wanna link it up with Batman and the other League homies they could even put in all the mind wipe stuff Zatanna did!  Though there’s enough great characters here – John Constantine, Swamp Thing, Madame Xanadu, Deadman, Etrigan – that I’d like to see it stand on it’s own. 

Please understand homies, I’m not slagging magic or mysticism or fans of it.  Rather, I’m slagging all loosely defined power based systems.  Let’s see how it progresses on Arrow, how it’s shown in The Dark Tower and how it works in Justice League Dark!  Also, I am interested in seeing the Warcraft movie when it is released on digital video disc so we’ll see how that goes over to a total layman like me who doesn’t know jack shit about wars or craft! 

I frequently find it difficult these days to finish thoughts or get a word out to someone.  It physically pains me sometimes to attempt that brand of communication, every word feels awful.  I think that is why Low speaks to me so much.  Structure becomes the theme, at times so distant and at times alarmingly in your face.  And then all those pastoral otherworldly landscapes, traveling down red roads while they continue to invade your brain.  We are we are inside a dying thing.  Even sending each other off is far too much of a strain.  You’re such wonderful…no one is going to begin that sentence when speaking to him.  There is little spirit inside of us, just waiting to express herself.  Oh, the little deaths, each time that addiction grows more fierce and grotesque.  Please don’t let me forsake something true.  I just want to stay inside all day the blinds drawn.  You may not see how these relates to all the above mentioned malarkey but it absolutely does, just consider what was being drawn on the carpet and what contributed to being put in such a fragile mental state.  We are all guilty. 

Prince Charming blew his head off awhile ago, right?  I have to drink some water now.  Every day, new avenues of failure and disobedience.  So it is one week until the Gift of the Gods Champion returns, eh?  Me thinks I are ready.  And of course, October 11 is looming just over the horizon….

Good Lord, I very nearly passed out there.  And then who knows what would have happened if someone hadn’t found me right away?!  One thing’s for sure: that would have been a very undignified death!