Thursday, January 27, 2005

Yeah, what Rumi said.

California Soul is bobbin ... and the airwaves...vibrate. The line that approaches infinity but never does touch it. Maybe licks it. There is the faintest hint of light glinting ... of the curves repeating themselves over and over and over until they all resemble a whole.

Pulsing under the surface.

A figure eight curiously loops between that living line in space.

Tuesday, January 25, 2005

Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law.

I molded my current life after a lazy hippie college drop out. Named Chet.

He does not exist in real life. At least not in the reality we all know.

But in the depths of my mind and my imagination this avatar must have acted as a powerful spell. An unintentional intentional god.

"Who is the master that makes the grass green?"

Where it all starts is, 1998. I was watching a show on the cartoon network called "Wait til your father gets home". It was pretty funny and contained a fair share of social commentary. Some say it was the true prototype for family guy and the simpsons.

I continued skipping classes in college and was becoming rapidly and deeply disenchanted with everything. School society family friends art.

I was running away slowly.

I didn't want to finish school. Didn't care. $30,000.00 blew away like trash.

This animated character fascinated me. It was who I was going to become. I found it kind of funny, and thought it was an entertaining model to follow. I wanted out of responsibilty, out of work. The rebellion bubbled over the top and spilled into my real life. Rebel without a cause for sure. "I will make nothing of myself". The struggle is not worth it. "Success has a price I refuse to pay." Are these the ghosts that i invited in to my mind?

Matthew 7:7 "Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you"

Well it came true.

Lets fast foreward to last Friday. I'm out at CB Driscols, having a handfull of drinks and just marinating. I'm wearing my black fleece zipped all the way up. This cute blonde girl drunkly whooshes in from nowhere and says "YOU HAVE TO RELAX...RELAX!!!" Her hands reach up and unzip my jacket and unbutton my shirt three buttons. "THERE!"

What does this mean?

I think I've crash landed from the trajectory I set six years ago

I caught up with the horizon and it's getting dark and cold and numb and faded.

You will never find yourself because you're already there. Jump into the void.




P.S. There is a key to life in this post.

Sunday, January 23, 2005

Avenging Disco Godfathers

BethMcK1: word!!
mrdanomyte: unggggggggh na na na na
BethMcK1: now let's get it all in erspective
mrdanomyte: ****GUNSHOTS*****
mrdanomyte: ****BARKING*****
mrdanomyte: ****EXPLOSION****
BethMcK1: i dropped my 9 all i heard was shells...fallin
mrdanomyte: how was the ball?
BethMcK1: it was a little strange
mrdanomyte: i can only imagine
BethMcK1: no open bar...that was some bullshit
mrdanomyte: i would have rocked it "fear and loathing style"
BethMcK1: like 7 bucks a drink
mrdanomyte: wack like what
BethMcK1: hahahahahahaha
BethMcK1: i don't know i i could have handled that!

Beth and Greg

"....and you know only head dippin boogaloo grooves would be coming out of thoses easy listening speakers. We must remember...."the revolution will not be televised".

"I have your check, it's in my hand and I am on my way to Fed Ex right now".

Blessed by Lou Rawls

Mr. Hollywood

Saturday, January 22, 2005

I Work At Kennedy Fried Chicken

Thursday, January 20, 2005

Things are going pretty ok right now. If you woke up alive, keep smiling as they say. The cold weather and snow are refreshing if taken in moderation, I'm keeping my jobs on point at work and my friends are blogging now. Fucking rad.

On the other hand, two of my co-workers are next to useless. They both act as if they're salespeople when selling is not even in the job description. They seem to be living a fantasy of phone calls and out of office client meetings while the "real" work piles up. It doesn't effect me in any major way- I have other fish to fry, but the scraps of sloppy work fall on the floor for me to clean up.

I'm probably going to pass on getting health insurance from work again this year. At $145.00 a month, it's almost affordable but not quite. In general I'm pretty healthy and that money could be used in many many other productive ways. However, it scares me more than a little to not have that damn safety net. Nothing was more nerve racking than when I got strep/tonsillitis and all that junk last fall. This should be an opportune time to discus my raise that's waiting in the wings-perhaps with that I can make it work.

This too, no more bad hangovers in 2005 and I have to remember what my goals are and not trip out on ADD, inertia and laziness. That and join the Freemasons.

2015 is looking to be a big year.

I see the old and haggard commuters on the Port Jervis line. I hear the young couple talking and laughing and the're loving it. Joe Gannon does not like the angry conducter who oversees the late night runs. I read about the 2 degree of the Freemasons from a web site printout. 17 pages of low grade office paper. You can't highlight it either, makes the ink run. Lou said we are all looking older. I agree, and I'm in flux. Sometimes not. Wiser? Most likely. It's an infinite game. A game you can't lose as JS and PS say. Indeed.

The drowning force of sleep keeps me the opposite of awake these nights. Dreams are thick with vividness, my unconscious is releasing some hot new information. Keep'in it close to the concrete as Funk Flex says.

I watched Napoleon Dynomyte and Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle this past weekend. No comments really. Except for the excellent scene where Neil Patrick Harris flys by in Harold's stolen car doing a line of coke off of a naked stripper's ass, which is clearly cinematic homage to this. We all know who this years Best actor is going to...

There's a jar of fortunes that sits unexamined on a shelf next to my computer desk.
The printer needs to be fed it's bottle of magenta.
More green tea please.

Tuesday, January 18, 2005


Me and my father are lost? My Cadillac is driving down an impossible hill of boulders. We are in a suburban, desolate but well kept neighborhood. I go into a house that has all the outward appearance of being "normal"... The house is empty of humans or it's inhabitants. It feels alive. It is excruciatingly beautiful. It feels like a puzzle, Unfolding. It's like a zen sculpture. Waterfalls. Minimalist. See Carlo Scarpa-the Brion Tomb,The golden mean, Solomon's temple. The noospere, tesseracts.

As I leave the house, there are children playing in one room with colorful toys.


Public place. Pools? Showers? Sparkling black granite. (note: simlar to recent dream of complex stream) wtf.

Wednesday, January 12, 2005

Oliver Quick

Cody says "go check out HOLLYWOOD'S HOUSE", or I'll shoot you with this death ray and eat your shoes and an entire pizza.

Monday, January 10, 2005

"Nothing is true, everything is permitted"

Sandwiches as far as the eye can see. Living inbetween the converted spaces of my mind and the lost caverns of the infinite market place that somehow got lost along the way. Not knowing where we are going is as dangerous as the pile of sand on your desk.

It's a small town in the midst of winter 1974 and the people are getting restless. Wind and the cold are conspireing aginst your soul. But don't take all of this seriously, cause it's not true. Nothing in this book is true.


Perhaps you believe it, or not and something might just spark enough braincells to give forth some new life. A sigle celled meme which may or may not exist at 700 times in 1,000,000 places at once.

The wind blows through my attic door, and damn it feels cold in this room. I hope It does not give me a cold.

Do androids dream of electric sheep? Why do I forget all the time how in love it can be and where does the thoughts you were supposed to be thinking go when it's time to remember to forget to remember. All over again.

Grain fed in Iowa but smoothed out in the Yakazuna.

I want a girl with extentions in her hair, bamboo earings, at least two pair.

"Broadband users should try dial-up every once and a while"

Bad times. They happen for two reasons; to remind you something is wrong, and to make you appriciate the good so much more.

Todya was one of those times.

The barometric workload pressure went through my roof today. Meanwhile, everyone else thinks they are fucking salesman. "Who's gonna help me bake the god-damn bread over here?"

Enough of that.

Sunday, January 09, 2005

Rye Grill and Bar is $cary.

I see white people

First audio blog post. It's my mind being blown by the uber-whiteness. Damn...

Saturday, January 08, 2005

Hipster Ground Zero

Dec. 14, 2004, 7:59PM
Berlin becomes powerful artistic magnet for Americans
City lures those disenchanted by U.S. creative scene
Los Angeles Times

BERLIN - The tea comes, the waitress smiles and Jason Forrest, an unquiet and happily offbeat American, tells you (oh yes, he tells you) how his life leaped off the tracks and found rebirth in this winter dark city he calls "hipster ground zero."

His artistic spirit "rudely" treated in New York, Forrest said he sought sanctuary in Berlin. He rented an apartment, bought a bed and two tables at Ikea, found a bohemian cafe (how hard could it be?) and started touring Europe with electronica concerts his Web site boasts "have garnered him a huge international audience, and involve much bad dancing, some blood and a few shattered laptops."

This is not Ernest Hemingway in the 1920s, unless Papa was a balding musician with a mischievous desire to rummage cyberspace for inspiration.This is not Paris, although there is a stubby replica of the Eiffel Tower out near the train tracks.

This is Berlin in a new century.

'Antidote to New York'
In the midst of a jigsaw architectural revival, Germany's capital is the destination for a growing number of American expats, musicians, painters, writers, performance artists and directors seeking the enrichment and creative experimentation they say is withering in the United States.

Many are young and newly arrived. Others have been here for years, witnessing the collapse of communism and the merging of east and west. They came on a whim. They came for cheaper meals and better gigs in a city whose night life is a miasma of galleries, art deco bars and underground clubs.

"Berlin is like the antidote to New York. It's all the things you want — the culture, the music scene — but none of the stress," Forrest said. "We live in a completely renovated apartment for 500 euros (about $650) a month, heat included. ... The hip areas of Berlin will be flooded soon with New Yorkers. Three of my friends are moving here in January. They see it as a place of lower rents and better politics."

In 1999, Berlin was home to 8,044 Americans, excluding those in the military, according to the city's Statistical Office. The number jumped to 10,000 in 1999 to nearly 12,000 today, including tech workers, lawyers, accountants and businesspeople. The figures don't account for expats who live here a few months, leave for a while and return. All told, about 4.1 million Americans not affiliated with the U.S. government or military live around the world, according to American Citizens Abroad, a nonprofit organization, but to many expats, Berlin is one of the places full of verve.

"There's this feeling in Berlin that something is happening," said Marc Siegel, a UCLA doctorate film student who has been writing his dissertation and teaching here for the last five years. "There's a history of gunshot holes written on these streets and in these buildings. There are illegal taverns, and the spaces in the city are alive. You feel you are part of some exciting thing and there's something precarious about it too."

Wanted: New acts
Berlin has a buzz, but it's more of a pleasant drone than a cacophony. With public funding for culture much higher than in America, it coddles more than it exacts. A reverence for alternative art keeps nightclubs hungry for new acts, so musicians such as saxophonist and singer Jessica Eva, who moved from San Francisco four months ago, can concentrate full-time on her band, Vanishing, rather than on waiting tables and looking for borrowed couches to sleep on.

Eva sat the other day with her drummer, Brian Hock, in the morning light of an apartment carved out of an old Berlin industrial building. Their music as described by Hock (with immediate subtext by Eva) is a "hypnotic noisy darker-side dancing music that also goes in tropical marching band directions."

The two have been performing together for six years and were tired of struggling with finances and a California music industry more enamored with packaged stars than with alternative zeitgeist and pungent lyrics.

"San Francisco started feeling really oppressive," said Eva, a woman with ripped stockings and a penchant for black clothes.

Lindy Annis moved to west Berlin in 1985. U.S. soldiers patrolled the streets and a wall divided the city. Ronald Reagan was president; the dollar was strong. The galleries and clubs that would eventually expand like an exotic mosaic through the Mitte district were nonexistent and the bohemians were part of an outcast scene, a buttress against the Cold War.

"I was living in New York and doing art was not financially feasible," said Annis, a performance artist who also works in experimental theater. "I visited Berlin and I stayed. There's an environment to accept exploration of new forms. ... It's culturally a new frontier. There's Russians, Chinese, French, Italians and British."

In some of her earlier material, Annis used satire and agitprop to decipher the United States. One of her most recent projects, An American Tragedy, taken from the title of the Theodore Dreiser novel, asked artists to create their vision of the American dream. Much of Annis' work tries to elucidate the world's chaos since Sept. 11, which altered the shape of the New York she knew.

"To me, going to New York and not seeing the towers is a scar," said Annis, a mother of two. "The people living in the U.S. worked through the grief and loss. But somehow it's harder for me. I don't get used to it. The towers were my compass. When I'd get out of the subway, I'd look to them to find south. When I visit New York, I still expect to see the towers."

Everything I ingested into my body yesterday. Or, how this is a metaphor for my life.

My song is that 100 guns, 100 clips song. Cause I'm from New York.

1 Medium black Dunkin Donuts Coffee
1 Shot of wheatgrass juice
1 Omega Smart Bar
2 Cups green Tea
2 Carne Asada Tacos with guacamole and lettuce
1 Quesadila
1 can of Sprite
3 Vitamins
5 12 oz. Glasses of water
1 32 oz bottle of water
12 Parliment Light Cigarettes
1 pint secret ale beer
1 glass red wine
2 Vodka and cranberries
2 Bottles of Corona
1 shot SOCO& Lime
(all the following is from Kennedy Fried Chicken)
1 Beef pattie with cheese on cocobread
2 chicken fingers
2 dinner rolls
10 french fries

Best Site Ever. (At least for the next 5 minutes)

Business Means Never Losing Sight of Your Goals, or Your Blow

Broker #1: That dog is really cute.
Broker #2: Yeah, but we still need more coke.

--St. Mark's Place & 2nd Ave.

"...and by 'Fort Lauderdale', I mean 'Bayside'."

Man on cell: I'll be in Fort Lauderdale in 2 hours, wait for me.

--34th & 8th

Over Heard In New York

Thursday, January 06, 2005

Just Right

Just write. I'm trying to live my life as more of a flow. Smooth sailing as opposed to the puntuated equilibrium of manic swings. Lets slooow down the amplitude and up the wattage. Or something like that.

Tesla would know an answer. Power and free energy for everybody. Name a star after yourself. Mastering the art of the non-sequitor.

Mark of the beast man, mark of the beast. They are installing a hand-scanner time clock at work which ties in directly to Paychex's database. This contraption scans your hand, then you enter a PIN, and it logs your hours. My God. Can't we just get retna scans or RFID tags injected into our left hands. PLease? Please? The fuck...?

More of the puzzle pieces are coming into focus.

Wednesday, January 05, 2005

the flow the flow the flow

Tuesday, January 04, 2005

In regards to yesterday's post

I'm not talking about the eshcaton in any negative or apocyliptic manner. My use of the word is strictly in a positive sense. It's just evolution. A game you can't lose, the never ending story.

Signs abound of SOMETHING looming on the horizon, and in the now. Not the singularity. More like concrescence.

blah blah blah. I will be more lucid in the future. Poetic metaphor will have to suffice for now. Amen.

Monday, January 03, 2005


2005 is going to be a great year. I can feel it.
John and Porno Steve pretty much broke it down. How it is and what it is. They have solved the Matrix in many ways.

"Ask and ye shall receive."

OMG OMG OMG. I have come to help bring on the eschaton:
43 Things

But not in a scary way.
(by the way Garden State is an amazing movie.)


we're on a crash course with the black hole of the future.
my boss: "what's wikipedia?" can we upload that?" ?????
Giant rotating blue ball of novelty.

Saturday, January 01, 2005


Happy New Year 2005

Yab Yum