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[23 Jul 2008|02:25am]
Many of you don't know that I am actually quite shy when you first meet me. I generally overcome this by wading right in and introducing myself, and then listening to other people talk about themselves. But I will tell you a secret, it's always a little difficult.

Anyway, what I meant to start with was that I am going to the coffeehouse every Tuesday night as a regular thing, to actually get out of the house and go somewhere where I interact with people. It's really a bit scary, but I am actually meeting people. I did, also, play music in public last night again, spontaneously, for the first time in a long time. It was so long that I was very, very nervous. I was scared, to be honest. It was good to do it again, even if just for a little bit, but it was frightening in many ways. I had to close my eyes a lot.

I actually did talk to people. I do go there to read and write but more and more I feel like I want to talk to people. It's not hard to talk to people in the coffeehouse. Sometimes the people you get to talk to are a bit bizarre, but that's the nature of a coffeehouse, I think, especially the one I go to.

I have more to process with this than I can say right now, I want to process this some more and say something. It's been feeling very good to get out and do something that isn't work and doesn't have any...I can't say stress, but...It doesn't have attachments to it. What kind of attachments I'll try and think about tomorrow and say more.

I want to say one more thing. www.beautifulagony.com is amazing and powerful and human and not demeaning, and very erotic. You should go there and look if you have a mind to. It's not work-safe even though you never see anything below anyone's shoulders.
8 comments|post comment

The Movie Meme [22 Jul 2008|12:30am]
From [info]miintikwa. Now you get to find out what a weirdo I really am.

1. What movie have you seen the most time in the theater? How many times?

Time Bandits, hands down. I've seen Time Bandits more times than I've seen Rocky Horror. After the seventh time I saw it someone asked me in all honesty, "You had to see it more than once to figure out how bad it is?" He was wrong. Here it all is! ALL OF IT HAHAHAH! )
7 comments|post comment

HUMANS OFF EARTH NOW [20 Jul 2008|05:42pm]
AS IF TO PROVE MY POINT I was cruising the channels when I came across THIS:

http://www.g4tv.com/hurl/splash.aspx

This is the Abomination of Desolation and absolute proof that entertainment and society has reached a complete nadir. I take back everything I said about Apocalypse. BRING IT ON. Just make sure the people responsible for this GO FIRST.

NO FOR FUCKS SAKE I DIDN'T WATCH IT ALL THE WAY THROUGH. Are you INSANE? As soon as I figured out what was happening I got nauseous (literally) and switched channels.
6 comments|post comment

[19 Jul 2008|04:44pm]
Between the recent announcement that Watchmen is going to be a movie, and the recent furor about the Dark Knight and David Edelstein's razorlike review of same in New York Magazine, (http://nymag.com/movies/reviews/48514/) there is a thread.

I don't suppose Alan Moore knew what Watchmen would do to comic books. Actually I'm sure he didn't know. He didn't know that his personal meditation on power gone too far would take over the world, nor did he know that the unexpected popularity of Watchmen would ensure that for the next twenty-one years, the concept of the superhero would change completely. Before Watchmen, superheroes were the avatars of justice and fairness. They lived in an idealized world. After Watchmen, superheroes were dislikable, untrustworthy, possibly psychotic un-humans living in a world of humans who were idiots and villains who were no different from the superheroes. The superhero's desire to help others is reinterpreted as a desire to control others and turns the Superman into the Ubermensch, standing in the light only to cast the shadow of fascism.

For the past twenty-one years, this new interpretation of the superhero has held sway without question. Those few comic writers and artists who have dared to challenge this Nietzschean and nihilistic view have either been roundly ignored or criticized with all the art, skill, and grace of a third grade class bully beating up a kid with glasses at recess.

Which brings us to David Edelstein's review. He criticizes The Dark Knight roundly and sharply, stating that it was "jumbled and sadistic...with jolts of brutality to keep you revved up." Which means, really, that it's probably pretty close to Batman as it is these days in the comic world. I quit reading Batman a long time ago because of those elements of sadism, brutality and incoherence, a trait it shares with all other superhero comics that I know of these days that are allegedly written for "adults." (More on that later.)

And the reaction of the "fans" to Edelstein is amazing. Without having seen the movie they declare jihad with the fervor of a bin Laden loading up an anti-tank weapon. Just like any fundamentalist. It's the ironic Bizarro World version of the people protesting Monty Python's Life of Brian or The Last Temptation of Christ - without actually having seen it.

Which brings me to several conclusions.

One is that in spite of all the self-congratulatory bleating in the comic book industry about comics having "grown up," they haven't. Comics are stuck at an adolescent level. The majority of them - including the non-DC, non-Marvel comics - are indeed, jumbled, sadistic, and brutal. Not just adolescent though; male adolescent.

I remember when no one - not a single comic writer or artist - would talk about or portray a rape. It was unthinkable.

Now it's so routine that nearly every popular superheroine in mainstream comics has been raped at one point or another. The blog, Occasional Superheroine, (under "Goodbye to Comics," http://occasionalsuperheroine.blogspot.com/) blew the lid off why this is, just in time for DC to not only rape but burn their character Sue Dibny to death, show you both events in excruciating detail, and regale you with the spectacle of an insane Elastic Man living under a bridge with a half-burnt female mannequin and calling it "Sue" afterwards.

And that's what sells. Jumbled, brutal and sadistic. So how exactly is that grown up? How exactly have comics grown up? Mainstream comics certainly haven't.

The irony of this is that Alan Moore himself eventually abandoned the theme of the fascist ubermensch ruling over an apocalyptic wasteland. He went on to create Promethea, a character who glowed with magic, mystery and hope in spite of her very real flaws, and to remake Superman and Doc Savage into Tom Strong. But nobody makes movies about these characters because there's not enough brutality and death.

Because brutality and death equals reality. Doesn't it? Doesn't it?

It does to the fans of these kinds of books and movies, which is kind of sickening. The United States of America is the most prosperous country in the world. We have money to waste. We live in luxury compared to the rest of the world. Our lives are easy by comparison to the rest of the world. In spite of the economic problems we still spend madly. Most Americans do not truly know what brutality and death is. If our car breaks down it's a tragedy. If the girl at the supermarket checkout counter is rude to us it's brutality. But underneath it all is the truth. Life in the slums of Brazil or in Ramallah or Darfur is brutality and death. What we experience is universes away from their reality.

The entertainment industries compensate for that unexpressed guilt, perhaps, by offering people imitation brutality and death. Why do people want to see it? I don't know. I don't know the lure of Texas Chainsaw Massacre or Saw or 100 Bullets or 30 Days of Night. I don't know why people want to see other people, or worse still animals, die horribly in various sadistic ways.

In my darker moments I think it's because it's the psychic version of cutting, to continually horrify and shock oneself in order to verify that one is still alive and can feel something in a world that is increasingly numbing. Not realizing that if you scar yourself enough, you lose the ability to feel anything.

So maybe I'll pass on The Dark Knight this weekend.
8 comments|post comment

"Prostitution: Taste the Rainbow!" [19 Jul 2008|03:07am]
I got this link from [info]bellamagic, it's just wrong. I love it.

http://www.haveaslogan.com/
6 comments|post comment

[17 Jul 2008|02:14pm]
Re: The Financial Crisis In Amurka:

1) Is it GWB's fault? Mostly his behavior over the past eight years didn't help. But, somebody wanted him to be President, so I guess they get what they deserve. GWB is not business savvy and so lets his friends do what they want in the financial department. This led to the worsening of the Enron Scandal and energy trading, which several people should be serving time in jail for but never happened, and the Housing Bubble which led to the Freddie Mac/Fannie Mae scandal, which several people should also do jail time for, but which will also never happen, because the people involved in screwing us are rich.

2) It may be that some people are getting the message that simply going out and buying stuff on credit all the time is not going to work as a lifestyle. The other half of America who has no money and hasn't had any for some time is kind of snickering behind their back or heaving a sigh and going "So what else is new?" while they report to their menial job at (insert name of Mega Super Ultra Corporation here).

3) Is This The End Of The United States of America?!?! Holy Apocalypse, Batman!! It Appears So If You Read The Blogosphere!!! And the Media! The Famine Is Coming!!! Armed Alien Gangsta Punk Rock Fascists Will Be Fighting In The Streets For Food With Married Gay Recruitment Squads!! But Then They Will Have To Band Together To Fight Islamofascism For Jesus!!! But NO! REPENT REPENT!! Turn To Biofarming! Grow Your Own Food And Run Away To The Country!!! BUY A COW! NO! THREE COWS AND A GOAT!!! That Way At Least You'll Have Milk!!! You Can Sell Cheese To Your Neighbors! BECAUSE THE ECONOMY IS GOING TO COLLAPSE AND ANARCHY REINS!! BUY A GUN! BUY TEN GUNS! BUY A MISSILE LAUNCHER!! YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN FOLKS! IT'S ALL GOIN' TO HELL!!! DOGS AND CATS LIVING TOGETHER! FLYING PIGS! ROOSTERS CROWING AT SUNDOWN WHILE GIRLS WHISTLE AND BLACK CATS CRAWL UNDER LADDERS RUN! RUN! RUN FOR THE HILLS!!! PREPARE FOR 2012 IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD!!
AAAAAAAAAAAIEEIEIEIEIEIIEGHGGHGGGHGHGHG!!! EEEEEEK! EEEEK! THE SKY IS FALLING!!!!!!

This is the impression I get from The Media and The Blogosphere. Personally, I am beginning to get annoyed with the large number of people, especially in the Blogosphere, who are more than willing - nay jubilant - to declare This Is The New Great Depression and gleefully predict nationwide collapse and panic in the streets.

I wish people would confine their urges for Drama to reality shows and Judge Judy and not try to impose their personal end of the world fantasies/neuroses on current events. This is a bad time for the economy, I know it, everyone who is not in Washington DC knows it, but let's not make it worse than it is, OK? If there are bad times ahead we get better results by looking at it realistically than running around shrieking and engaging in Jeremiads.
21 comments|post comment

[16 Jul 2008|04:46am]
I went to the Neutral Ground again last night. I'm thinking of making it a regular Tuesday thing but I'm going to cut back on the iced coffee because it keeps me up too late.

It's really nice being there, especially on Tuesday, because there's nobody earth-shattering playing, so I can read and just be quiet. Last night was a very earnest and possibly too fuzzy young man playing his own songs on a battered acoustic guitar. He needs to play more in public, a lot more, because he has potential. Granted his sense of time was off in spots and his vocal delivery was a little too passionate for his own good. But I liked his songs. They were rough but lots of potential. The subject matter made me grin. The subjects of his songs could more or less be summarized as follows:

"I could DIE! It could happen! OMG! People die! What if I died?? OMG!!"
"I love you even though you hate me."
"Bad People Suck and War Is Evil."
"I don't care that you dumped me even though my heart is broken, screw you I love you come back!"
"I'm completely confused about nearly everything."
"You dumped me so I'm going to sit here on my couch and smoke pot and try to forget you."
"I'm afraid of having sex with you because then you'll hate me and dump me."

In other words the everyday concerns of white male songwriters between the ages of about 18 and 25 or so. I'm not making fun, I've got an ass load of songs around the same topics that you will never ever hear, and some that you might because I rewrote them over the years to hopefully be more mature.

People who are new at writing songs write from an "I Me Mine" perspective. One of the ways you can tell someone is a good songwriter is if they can write from someone else's perspective and make it convincing. John Prine is a master of that kind of songwriting. Something else that proves songwriting maturity is a sense of humor, because it's hard to write a truly funny song, it really is.

It's harder for young songwriters to catch the details of emotion. It's much easier, if you're a songwriter and you're early on in songwriting, to just EMOTE. To just go "FEEL MY PAAAAAAAIIIINNN!" or "I'm gonna RISE UP and NO ONE'S gonna keep me down!" and stuff like that.

It's the big broad swaths of emotion that are easy to do - anthems and love songs. The hard stuff is coloring in between the lines and realizing the nuances, that a song's words need to hone in on something, that the way you sing it counts, the way you enunciate the right word at the right time can convey more subtleties than the Serpent in the Garden of Eden. The detail work, if you will. There's always room to cut loose, of course; you will not find me saying otherwise since I am a big fan of the Who, masters of big broad swaths of emotion if there ever were.

But if this guy that I saw last night keeps going, and listening to as much music as he can, and generally growing into his own skin, he'll do OK. I would be curious to hear him in 2 or 3 years and see what that's like. But dude, you need to get another guitar, for real, or change the strings on that one, or something.
5 comments|post comment

Ladies and Gentlemen, Kevin Ayers [15 Jul 2008|01:26pm]


Kevin Ayers was around at the beginning of British Psychedelia and was a songwriter, bass player and sometime guitarist for Soft Machine. He helped form the original 1960s incarnation of that group with Daevid Allen (later of Gong), Robert Wyatt on drums, and Mike Ratledge on keyboards. After a tour outside of England, Daevid Allen's re-entry visa into Britain was denied (he's an Alien Australian, as he says), so Soft Machine carried on as a three-piece with Ayers on bass and vocals.

The first Soft Machine album is an amazing pile-on of psychedelic dementia, primarily due to Ayers and Robert Wyatt dominating the material. Soft Machine toured with Jimi Hendrix, and alternated nights at the legendary UFO Club with Syd Barrett's Pink Floyd. However, a grueling tour of the United States with Jimi Hendrix convinced Kevin Ayers that the non-stop tour lifestyle was not for him. He sold his bass to Noel Redding and buggered off to the sunny clime of Deya in Spain. (Escaping to sunny climes is a trademark of Ayers' life, incidentally.)

While on holiday in Deya, Ayers came up with enough songs to put out a solo album,
Joy of a Toy
. He auditioned the tapes for Harvest Records (most famous for being Pink Floyd's label), and was one of the first artists signed to the label.

Over the years Ayers put his own peculiar vision on record many times. Ayers gave Mike Oldfield and Steve Hillage their first exposure to the public, made the classic oddball album
June 1, 1974 - Ayers/Cale/Nico/Eno
, and worked with Elton John and the brilliant but mostly unknown guitarist Ollie Halsall (who later played "Stig O'Hara"'s guitar parts on the Rutles album, among other things). He often came close to success, but invariably when the pressure got too great, Ayers would withdraw to anyplace where it was sunny and there was plenty of wine. This may have short-circuited his career, but then again, he never seemed much interested in having a career in the "music industry" when it came down to it. The slightly sarcastic title of one of his albums,
First Show in the Appearance Business
, seems to up his attitude toward a "career."

Ayers more or less dropped out of sight during the 80's and 90s, but in 2005, a friendship with an artist led to Ayers re-entering the recording studio to record
The Unfairground
, a lovely, sad and rueful album befitting his image as an observer of the human comedy, including the jokes he pulled on himself along the way.

This selection is from what I consider the best of Ayers' work in the 1970s. It includes pieces from the albums
Odd Ditties
,
The Confessions of Dr. Dream
, and
Shooting at the Moon
among others. His work in the 1980s and 1990s was, for the most part, negligible, but I highly recommend the 2007 album
The Unfairground
if you want to hear what he's up to now.

2 comments|post comment

Writing Things Down [13 Jul 2008|11:51pm]
(This is an expansion and continuation of a comment that I made on somebody else's LJ. Yes, I recycle.)


Recently, in the world of Witchcraft (as opposed to World of Warcraft) there have been a goodly number of folks writing books about witchcraft traditions, which has led to a far off cry of "OATHBREAKER!" from distant quarters.

This sort of business goes back a ways. In the 1980s Janet & Stewart Farrar published The Witches' Bible, and oh the hollerin' and howlin' and chants of "OATHBREAKERRRRRR!" and the curses were flyin' and what not. The General Public ignored all this and bought the book. Now of course it's practically a Required Text if you're looking into becoming a witchy-type.

You go back to Wacky Uncle Al (eister Crowley) and when he published his books after having had enough of the apparently insufferable A.E. Waite and company in the Golden Dawn, the holler of OATHBREAKER! was also heard ringing throughout the land. The big secret of initiation in the Golden Dawn which that awful Aleister Crowley revealed to the undeserving unwashed masses? The Hebrew Alphabet.
(Note: Thanks for reminding me of that, Vee.)

I can hear you gasp in horror from here. Again, hootin', hollerin', curses flyin', witch-wars a-blazin' and it made not a bit of difference. The people yelling "Oathbreaker!" are forgotten and Uncle Al is on T-shirts. When was the last time you saw an S.L. MacGregor Mathers T-shirt? My point is made.

All of the good witchy books I've seen consist of exercises and ways to stretch your mind and your consciousness. Even if we go outside of my trad and look at all the other recent Witchcraft books of the past 30 years or more, they pretty much consist of exercises to stretch your mind and consciousness. You have a few grimoires and spellbooks out there, but for the most part they are exercises and play meant to expand your consciousness and help you think differently.

A lot of the exercise material in these Pagan and Neopagan books is not original with the author. Much of the time it isn't even original with the sources that the author got the material from. It's been available to everyone with a library card for yonks, even before the Internet. In the Internet world, http://www.sacred-texts.com is what it says on the tin, and can be accessed to reveal The Various & Sundry Secrets Of The Ages. Before the internerd you could find all this stuff via interlibrary loan.

So, a lot of "oathbound" material was already out there. So if this is true, when we hear about oathbound material, who exactly bound it with oaths? Was it the originator of the material? or was it people who acquired the material through interlibrary loan - and then suddenly made it "oathbound," in order to make themselves look all Woo Woo, like they were...The Keeper O' The Kozmik Key Baybay! Me and Me Alone, I Me Mine, King/Queen 'o' The Occult World!

Personally I believe in Oaths and oathboundness - in very certain situations. I think that in situations where you are initiated, it is perfectly apt to keep secrets about a tradition, because to me an oath implies that
you take it seriously
. You take it to heart. That's what the secret is; you have taken it into your heart, the most holy temple of them all. It's unspoken, because it's unspeakable. The real truth of the initiation is in the transmission of the energy. That's not something that can be talked about. THAT is oathbound. And should be.
And that can never, ever be found in any book.


When you take an oath in any witchcraft tradition, you're becoming part of a continuity, a fellowship (and a family. And you're being vouchsafed something mystical and beautiful that is at the heart of the tradition from their heart to yours, the holy of holies. And that's part of the reason that oaths are still needed, and should still exist. The oath is, in most pagan traditions that I know of, part of the transmission of the energy, the is-ness, that lies at the heart of the tradition.
That
, my friends, is
utterly sacred
and unspeakable, because there are no words that can even come close to encompassing it.

But most mystical
exercises
(please note that emphasis) have been published since medieval times, or written down since before then. I have definitely noted that a lot of stuff that was formerly considered "oathbound" in many Neo-Pagan or Pagan traditions is cribbed, part and parcel, hook-line-and-sinker, from places as far afield as medieval Europe, Kabalistic studies, Tibetan Buddhism, the Catholic mystical traditions, the Bhagavad Gita and the Upanishads, etc. Which were all out there. Emerson read the Gita.

So, why do people write secret stuff - or allegedly secret stuff - down?

Part of the reason for writing things down is that without that, the material will entirely disappear. It will.

For example, we don't know anything solid about the central aspects of the Eleusinian Mysteries (unless some archaeologist has unearthed something that I don't know about). Nothing, the last time I checked. It wasn't ever written down and the secret of the Eleusinian Mysteries dissolved under the ravages of persecution and time.

Now the Greeks believed that the Eleusinian Mysteries were so important that they were not revealed under pain of death. Many Greek writers also stated openly that the Eleusinian Mysteries were the very thing that made the Greeks great, and many of them felt that it was their greatest contribution to the world.

But we have no idea what it was. It's gone. Lost forever. Speculations abound, but that's all they are.

Second example: the Druids. We have fragments of stuff about the Druids, fragments that were collected contemptuously by the Romans, who often put their spin on them to make the Druids look like a bunch of headhunter cannibal barbarians. Or we have bitsy bits written down by monks centuries later, or little pieces that we have to tease out from poems, also written down by monks centuries later. But what the Druids actually did and believed? Zip, nada, zilch, nothing again, just like the Eleusinian Mysteries. We know they were there, but...the rest is guesswork.

Since ole Gerald Gardner made the scene, there has been a lot of Noble Savage Error kind of thinking in Paganism in general. I have heard people say things like, "In the old days, the Bards MEMORIZED all their poetry and sayings and rituals! Our ancestors had such memories, us puny modern humans, pah! We have to have (insert disgusted sniff here)
books
! Shame on us!"

Well, my viewpoint - they had to memorize everything because they couldn't write. Historically and archaeologically speaking, the minute they could write it, they did. That is NOT to denigrate the power of memory and memorizing things.

However, there are drawbacks to having a Bard who memorizes everything.

The bard could get things wrong. The bard could also forget things. They weren't infallible by any means.

And in those days, the bard or wise one of the tribe could also get killed before they had a chance to transmit anything to anybody. That was a very real and present danger.

The Druids are a very obvious example. The Romans put them all to the sword, and none of them could write because they didn't have a written language. Christianity, whether enforced by the sword or willingly chosen (and a lot of Pagans in those days did, willingly, choose Christianity) destroyed the Eleusinian Mysteries. They got less popular, and fewer people went through the Mysteries. Then, when the last of the Eleusinian priesthood was put to the sword by Christian rulers...well, it was too sacred to write down. And so when the last person died, the Eleusinian mysteries were gone. So we know pretty much nearly absolutely nothing about the Druids, or the Eleusinian mysteries. Lots of speculation, no good accounts.

Okay. The argument comes up: well, you can't reveal secrets without violating the interior experience of the person undergoing the Eleusinian Mystery or the Druid Initiation. I'll give you that one. I think that deeply sacred experiences shouldn't be shared with the public at large. I definitely agree. Look what I said above. Truly sacred experiences can't be shared in their final essence. They are heart to heart, spirit to spirit, god to god. Those things should be kept secret as one would keep a priceless diamond secret against thieves.

However, the techniques - the mental and spiritual exercises that get you to the point where you can go into the cave and experience the mysteries - shouldn't those be written down, so you at least have "a finger pointing at the moon," to quote the Buddha?

So yeah, writing things down is Important. Okay, yeah, like the man said, don't confuse the finger pointing at the moon with the moon. BUT...if you don't have any fingers pointing...ya might miss the whole thing entirely.

(ED. NOTE: Now if you made it this far, please go back and note the part where I said I believe in the power and necessity of Oaths, and please note the part where I said I thought memorization of things is very important, OK? Because I already said all that and just in case anybody wants to debate with me over it, I'm gonna refer you back to those parts, and I hate repeating myself, you know?)
21 comments|post comment

this past week, maybe in installments [13 Jul 2008|03:36am]
After the excessively emo exorcism/rant I put up I took and went away. On Tuesday I went to the N.G., a coffeehouse. I discovered that I have become one of the people I used to make fun of, the gray-haired middle-aged eccentrics who hung out in a corner and wrote in my notebook. I got a good poem out of it.

A similarly gray-haired middle-aged eccentric was on stage singing Dylan songs in a cracked voice. I used to make fun of people like that too, but I could not find it in me to do so. Instead I admired how valiant he was and how unconcerned he was with how people thought of him. He didn't have any dreams of being a folky superstar as far as I could tell. He was just playing the songs that he loved to the best of his ability.

There is something divine about that, and I regretted that I was so shallow in the past that I used to make fun of or ignore people like that. I am not always a nice person, and in the past I was not always the person I would like to be.

People did actually talk to me though, which was really humbling and moved my heart in a big way. I am actually a very shy person in many ways. I have trouble speaking to people I don't know unless I have my Performance Persona on or unless I trust them very much. I was not up to maintaining the Performance Persona and I was stumbling over a lot of words and ideas that night, and yet the people I was talking with did not seem to care very much, and I actually felt like I had been with people and done something.

The last few years, really from my entry into Grad School on, I feel like I have been absorbed. I feel as though all my time was spent doing something either for A Higher Cause (like Grad School) or trying to create a career and keep jobs. A lot of the time at "Wayfarers," I was coming home after work and going to sleep, and as a result a lot of things that I love fell by the wayside - writing poems, making music, playing guitar, and seeing people who were not (a) professors or (b) my wife. I am lucky, I think, that I still have friends and people who are willing to talk to me. It wasn't that I was antisocial, but I think I was focused, and I think I was letting myself be drained for the sake of a degree and a job.

Granted that neither one of those were bad things, but actually after I went out on Tuesday night, I realized again that there really is more to me than just Master's Degree In Community Counseling, Looking For Meaningful Employment. A lot more. And it would be a shame to lose that, to let it fall by the wayside, because I've seen other people do it and sort of vaporize into the World Of Career.

Since I got fired I have done not one but TWO paintings. They are not the greatest paintings in the world, they're non-representational, which I feel comfortable doing right now. And I am working on songs and music. It's a relief. Sure, there are times when I feel fidgety or bored and guilty and yes indeed despairing, but there's a me that is re-emerging that was submerged and maybe even a bit almost drowned under all this Career stuff. And I want to pay more attention to that particular me, because I think that without that particular me, none of the other stuff - the career and jobs and counseling - is not going to happen properly, because I was never meant to nail myself up on that particular cross.

I don't want to be (and at heart I am not) one of those martyrs who forswears everything to serve others, because that's not healthy, but I have always had that temptation/inclination, and I am using this time to get further away from that - to become, in other words, fully human, to the point where I don't have to define myself strictly in terms of A Mental Health Worker. If I do just define myself as that, it'll kill whatever good I can do as a Mental Health Worker, because if I just keep trying to be the infallible and ever-wonderful counselor guy, it won't work. The reason it does work when I am counseling somebody is because I am a complete human being and cannot be boxed up and fitted into machinery as a cog.

This is a lesson that one would think I have learned after staggering, stumbling, running and occasionally walking and sleeping through 48 years on this particular planet, but I seem to need reminders, sometimes shocking ones.

And if one part of me is, after all, the gray-haired, balding, middle-aged slightly eccentric person writing poetry in his notebook at the coffeehouse, then so be it, I will know myself in all my parts, that one too. There are others and I will talk about them tomorrow. And keep discovering them and rediscovering them as necessary.
26 comments|post comment

It's All About The Emo, Walk On By [08 Jul 2008|12:52pm]
keep walking, life's too short )
55 comments|post comment

This is a "dumbo octopus." [08 Jul 2008|08:52am]


4 comments|post comment

Pinky and the Brain Meet the Feebles [05 Jul 2008|01:47pm]
5 comments|post comment

[03 Jul 2008|11:27am]
The job I just got fired from has a classified for the position up on Craigslist. It's dated a week before they let me go. I was thinking about putting up my own ad for the position with evil remarks like "Must be able to read executive director's mind," but I decided not to.

On top of that, the company I got laid off from (before the most recent job) now has an ad on NOLA.com looking for someone with my exact qualifications. This after laying off everyone a month ago and telling them that there were no positions suitable for anybody within the company.

This is just fucking insulting, is what it is.
45 comments|post comment

Worst of the Best [02 Jul 2008|12:22am]
This is truly one of the wrongest of the wrong "Best of Craigslist" postings out there.

http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/aus/603080295.html

Edited to add: WAIT THIS ONE IS EVEN MORE WRONGLY WRONG THAN THE OTHER ONE AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEGHHHHHHHGGGHHHHHHHHHH

http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/nyc/648410240.html
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Next Food Network Star blah blah blah [29 Jun 2008|11:58pm]
consider this one of those Twitter posts.

I knew Jen was going to bite it, I'm surprised she didn't get the axe last week but Nipa was unable to handle fish - I mean, she actually did not want to touch fish to the extent that she shuddered and shrieked - so Nipa had to go.

Jennifer has that MILF thing going on and I liked her. There's also a trace of something naughty hidden beneath that Mom exterior. But regardless of my lust for her, I could hardly believe that she was an executive chef anywhere after she busted that apricot juice bottle all over the place. Pairing her up with Lisa Garza = bad idea.

As long as we're talking about Lisa Garza: DO NOT LIKE. Here's a suggestion for you, Lisa: taking your fashion cues from Jane Doe on
Galaxy Quest
is a bad idea. And here's another free tip for you, Lisa - get the stick out your ass. Uptight is not even the word, it's inadequate to cover the neuroticness, there's a keening sense of
I WANT YOU TO LIIIIIKE MEEEE
that is unnerving and a bit creepy. No surprise: she used to be a beauty contestant.

But good luck Jen, I liked you and if they ever have The Next Food Network Hot Mom you're in.

My prediction for who gets kicked off next week: Aaron or Adam are about even. Aaron is so nervous he makes me want to go take nitroglycerin just looking at him. He is undoubtedly a good cook but he is dead in the water as a TV personality. Adam can bullshit really well. But I don't think he can cook, and his schtick is getting tired. But he might work on Food Network as one of those dorks that goes around tasting roadside burgers or something. And SOMEBODY needs to replace that scary Marc Summers on Unwrapped, who I am convinced is an Android.

Ultimate Winner: Shane. He puts himself across well, and he seems like he can actually make food - but is he consistent in the kitchen? Kelsey could come from behind and do him in, and I'm sure she can cook well, but haven't they got enough cutesy blonde white girls on Food Network already? But if she plays her cards right, Fine Living Network will snag her, as they are rapidly becoming the network for actual cooking shows with people who cook, instead of dipsticks who make shit out of boxes like Semi-Homemade Martini Drunk Sandra Lee.
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the 100 books meme [29 Jun 2008|06:52pm]
"The Big Read reckons that the average adult has only read 6 of the top 100 books they've printed."

1) Look at the list and bold those you have read.
2) Italicize those you intend to read.
3) Underline the books you LOVE.
4) * Star books that you've read for pleasure (versus something you read because someone made you. it also counts if you've reread it for fun later)
5) Reprint this list in your own LJ so we can try and track down these people who've read 6 and force books upon them ;-)


Blah blah blah, I'm deleting everything that I haven't read.

if you make it through this, you're mad as a hatter )
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considerations [28 Jun 2008|01:04pm]
1) Quit the mental health field altogether. Three jobs in two years is indication enough that I am not going to work out in this field, for reasons that I don't fully comprehend. There are other jobs out there. I have always joked about going to work for Barnes and Noble, but this might really be the time to consider that. Maybe there's something about me that makes me not fit for counseling work. I have examined myself pretty hard and I can't figure out what it is, but three jobs in two years seems to indicate that it's there.

2) Find a day job of some sort and get my doctorate. Of course if #1 is true, there's no point, but at least I'll have a doctorate. Of course it could be a useless doctorate. This would mean of course that I would go back to the school grind, meaning that I would have no life for two or three years.

3) Find a day job and counsel people at night in order to get my hours to become an LPC. It would take a long time to get my hours this way, but it could be possible. It would also mean that I have no life, again.

None of these alternatives looks very good.
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[27 Jun 2008|05:40pm]
well, that was quick. I'm out of a job.

wheeeeeeeee fuckity fuck fuck fuck

edited to add: and I just broke one of my front teeth.
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Garcia Lorca - selections from "Theory and Play of the Duende" [23 Jun 2008|11:57pm]
Whoever travels the bull’s hide that stretches between the Júcar, Guadalfeo, Sil and Pisuerga rivers (not to mention the tributaries that meet those waves, the colour of a lion’s mane, that stir the Plata) frequently hears people say: ‘This has much duende’. Manuel Torre...spoke this splendid sentence: ‘
All that has dark sounds has duende
.’ And there’s no deeper truth than that.

Those dark sounds are the mystery, the roots that cling to the mire that we all know, that we all ignore, but from which comes the very substance of art. ‘Dark sounds’ said the man of the Spanish people, agreeing with Goethe, who in speaking of Paganini hit on a definition of the duende:
‘A mysterious force that everyone feels and no philosopher has explained.’


So, then, the duende is a force not a labour, a struggle not a thought. I heard an old maestro of the guitar say: ‘The duende is not in the throat: the duende surges up, inside, from the soles of the feet.’ Meaning, it’s not a question of skill, but of a style that’s truly alive: meaning, it’s in the veins: meaning,
it’s of the most ancient culture of immediate creation.

...

Angel and Muse come from outside us: the angel brings light, the Muse form (Hesiod learnt from her). Golden bread or fold of tunic, it is her norm that the poet receives in his laurel grove. While the duende has to be roused from the furthest habitations of the blood.

Reject the angel, and give the Muse a kick...The true struggle is with the duende.

...

The arrival of the duende presupposes a radical change to all the old kinds of form, brings totally unknown and fresh sensations, with the qualities of a newly created rose, miraculous, generating an almost religious enthusiasm.

...

In all Arab music, dance, song or elegy, the arrival of duende is greeted with vigorous cries of ‘Allah! Allah!’ so close to the ‘Olé!’ of the bullfight, and who knows whether they are not the same? And in all the songs of Southern Spain, the appearance of the duende is followed by sincere cries of: ‘Viva Dios!’ deep, human, tender cries of communication with God through the five senses, thanks to the duende that shakes the voice and body of the dancer, a real, poetic escape from this world...

Naturally when this escape is perfected, everyone feels the effect: the initiate in seeing style defeat inadequate content, and the novice in sensing authentic emotion. Years ago, an eighty year old woman came first in a dance contest in Jerez de la Frontera, against lovely women and girls with liquid waists, merely by raising her arms, throwing back her head, and stamping with her foot on the floor: but in that crowd of Muses and angels with lovely forms and smiles, who could earn the prize but her moribund duende sweeping the earth with its wings made of rusty knives.

All the arts are capable of duende, but where it naturally creates most space, as in music, dance and spoken poetry, the living flesh is needed to interpret them, since they have forms that are born and die, perpetually, and raise their contours above the precise present.

...

When the angel sees death appear he flies in slow circles, and with tears of ice and narcissi weaves the elegy... But how it horrifies the angel if he feels a spider, however tiny, on his tender rosy foot!

The duende, by contrast, won’t appear if he can’t see the possibility of death, if he doesn’t know he can haunt death’s house, if he’s not certain to shake those branches we all carry, that do not bring, can never bring, consolation.

With idea, sound, gesture, the duende delights in struggling freely with the creator on the edge of the pit. Angel and Muse flee, with violin and compasses, and the duende wounds, and in trying to heal that wound that never heals, lies the strangeness, the inventiveness of a man’s work.

...

The duende works on the dancer’s body like wind on sand. It changes a girl, by magic power, into a lunar paralytic, or covers the cheeks of a broken old man, begging for alms in the wine-shops, with adolescent blushes: gives a woman’s hair the odour of a midnight sea-port: and at every instant works the arms with gestures that are the mothers of the dances of all the ages.

But it’s impossible for it ever to repeat itself, and it’s important to underscore this. The duende never repeats itself, any more than the waves of the sea do in a storm.

...

The duende...Where is the duende? Through the empty archway a wind of the spirit enters, blowing insistently over the heads of the dead, in search of new landscapes and unknown accents: a wind with the odour of a child’s saliva, crushed grass, and Medusa’s veil, announcing the endless baptism of freshly created things.



(translated by A.S. Kline)
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