No connecting actions and words

Seattle is sweltering. 90 degree temperatures in the beginning of June is too much. They say relief is on the horizon. We just have to make it through today...

I just finished reading President Obama's speech in Cairo. That man continues to inspire me. I'm glad that we finally have a president whose concern for the Americans in unwavering but also recgonizes the plight of others in the world. He also referenced a great quote from Jefferson that I think is still very true today, "I hope that our wisdom will grow with our power, and teach us that the less we use our power the greater it will be." One thing that he said that really stuck with me was, "If we choose to be bound by the past, we will never move forward." This hit home for me and I think that he's been able to express an idea that I've believed for a long time but have never been able to phrase so eloquently...

I've been making some progress on the Festival Front. I got a blog post up yesterday on the Lucile Street Brewing Blog. There is a lot of information there about the stuff we're going to try to get accomplished. However if any of you have some ideas for other things don't hesitate for a moment to throw them my way. With the way things are shaping up so far I think we may be doing it big enough this year to make last year seem like child's play...

I've got a meeting this weekend about 7. I think that I'm getting much closer to a final product. But just to hold everyone over here's another little excerpt:

Jason Itzler entered from the middle door wearing a coat of animal skins and a feathered hat, hoping no one noticed his presence. He was aided by a group of rival girls, "I don't know who you think you are!" The words echo down the narrow hall and fall upon the ears of Christ, sitting four rows up shaking his head. Jason glances around quizzically. "I'm going to show you who I am!" Two women in oversized coats rise from their seats and begin to assault the others. Further forward a man begins to slur quotes of the Lord to anyone willing to listen. Everyone was going back and forth between the violence and the false prophet. Finally the skirmish subsides. Jason takes a seat in the rotunda and pulls out a small mirror as a young girl tugged on his leg, "Have you seen my mommy?" He couldn't bring himself to suggest that she may be the one bleeding on the floor. Jesus weeps at his creation as he reads a sign out the window, "Homeless, God Bless".

Thieves, spikes and Hector Romano

So someone attempted to break into my house yesterday. So tonight I'm going to be putting in some metal mending plates in the window sills - spikes up. Hopefully this will act as a deterrent. However I am starting to think that we really need to get a dog. I've been poking around a bit and decided that a Boxer would be a good choice to protect Lucile. The roommates aren't exactly on board yet, but I'm going to push for it. I think it would have to be a male dog. Then I can name him Hector Romano. But not a white Boxer. I hear they have hearing problems and the last thing that I need is a dog that can't hear me. Just look at that face though! Friendly yet savage.

Call for Acts!

Alright everybody out there we need acts. Music acts. Comedy acts. Mime acts. If you are a performer of any kind and are interested in performing at the Lucile Street Summer Festival we want you there! You can contact me directly or email lucilestreetbrew@gmail.com and we'll get you scheduled! I hope to see everyone there regardless. It's August 1st on Lucile Street. It's guaranteed to be bigger and better than last year.

"It can't rain everyday"

This is the best news that I've heard all decade. Circulatory System's new album is set for release. The title is Signal Morning. It's been 8 long years since their self titled debut and I'm more than ready for it. However exciting this is it pales in comparison to this next little bit. The Olivia Tremor Control is working on new material!!! I can't even tell you how exciting this is. I guess its right up there with the announcement of a whole new Beatles record. Now we just need Neutral Milk Hotel to get back in the studio and we could see a second golden age of the Elephant 6.

Who brought the witch to the Gay Parade? Does she need surgery?

This was the first weekend in a while that I was out and about on the town. It was good. I am starting to feel like a member of society again. But as my dear friend told me society might not have been entirely ready for me to come back. While I was out yesterday I found myself suffering from a sort of turrets. Borderline(maybe a little further) comments were coming from my mouth left and right. One such instance was at the Fremont Street Fair on Sunday. A 20-something woman was walking by us. Completely disregarding the heat of the day she sported a Gothic black dress, long stockings and a brimmed black hat that rose above her head into a point. Now this woman was obviously a witch, or at least wanted us all to think that she was. So I called her out as such. There were also a couple of situations involving women with unusually large breasts and an elderly women in the PCC wearing a helmet, but I feel those were much more reserved...

I've very close to beating Trauma Center: Second Opinion. I thought that I was going to beat it last night, but even after taking down the "final" formation of GUILT and successfully saving the patient it went on to the side track that I guess I have to finish now. I cannot express how much I'm loving this game. Well I could tell you that I went out and bought the other version of it. That kind of suggests my obsession. DR. STILLES!!...

Today it's all about the Gay Parade. The Scout and I were talking about it yesterday and I haven't been able to get it out of my head since. "They gather up all the countries flags and they burn them!" It's just such a good album. Hopefully Of Montreal's next album will be more in the vein of their early stuff. I'm still disappointed in their latest...

On Saturday I found two things that should forever be combined: Buck Hunter and Deerhunter. I spent 2 hours at Redline in West Seattle going between Cryptograms and Microcastles while pilling up buck carcasses in a virtual world. First time I've played since the injury. It was so good to get back at it that I went again on Sunday...

I love that Neutral Milk Hotel was able to help save a carousel. I hope that they use this experience to put together a new album. We've been waiting for over 10 years now. I guess it's more likely to be a case of words on a gravestone: "I waited but you never came"...

I've been blogging a lot lately. This is already the 150th post. Seems like just yesterday was the 100th post...

Midday on the 18

The bus is smaller and seems to have lost many of its spiritual qualities. However there is still an abundance of human life found in the eyes of elderly men and fashionable young girls trying hard to cover their long legs from prying eyes, with mini skirts. A middle aged woman of Pacific Island decent exits the bus. Her dress flowing with twenty shades of blue, much like the ocean that surrounds her homeland. If i cant see the waves crashing through the breakers at least shes there for me.

Sunday Morning on the 7

While many people commemorate the sabbath by attending Church i ride the 7. The lack of seating options make it clear im not the only one. They come from all walks of life to meet and say their silent pagan prayers. Many hide behind headphones and fictious novels in a vain attempt to block out the veiled humanity. They cannot hide forever.

A man boards the front with all of his belongings tied to his back, a philosophy i once subscribed to but found too daunting a task to be sustainable. From the weathered look on his face its apparent he would agree. He takes a seat in the center of the articulated bus where there is ample space to spread out his life. He pulls a tall can from one of his sachels and much to my surprise it is some kind of tea and not a mind numbing fortified beveridge. A little boy has escaped his mothers eye and stands before the vagabond as if he were watching the shock and awe over baghdad. His mother was preoccupied by a novel whose cover portrayed a half naked man standing on a rock surrounded by crashing waves holding a lust ridden woman in his arms. When she notices his absence panic sets in. She spots the boy and rushes to scoop him up. The dilapidated man cracks a small smile and waves to the boy who bursts into laughter. After everyone settles back in the man pulls a book from the largest of his bags and begins to read. A few people come and go before i realize from the cover picture he may be reading the same story as the boys mother.

Taking the time to waste a sunny day

I'm at work and the sunny is bearing down all around the building. It's unbelievably slow and I'm slowly going insane. I've spent the morning internet shopping, but if I even as much as clicked on a link of something I might buy I'd get buyers remorse. So I quit looking. Now I'm bored out of my mind. The only thing that I have found helps is the Olivia Tremor Control.

"Twitter slandering"

I just got tickets to see Handsome Furs a week from Friday at Neumos. Should be a good time. I'm anxious to get back out there and feel like a part of the scene again. That's just the beginning though. I also snapped up tickets to see Deerhunter at the Capitol Hill Block Party. I am going to be counting down the days...

I'd like to share some words of wisdom from P.:

dont support puppy mills
outing people on the online
facebook divorces'n shit
twitter slandering

The theoretical existence of naked singularities is important because their existence would mean that it would be possible to observe the collapse of an object to infinite density.

never go to bed without a piece of raw meat

if you do go on the price is right you should tell drew carry to perk up a bit, then thank him for soccer in seattle

He mentions another thing in the end there. I think that I'm going to go on the Price is Right with my dad. It would be AWESOME!!! Maybe I'll win a trip to Europe or a new car. Even if I don't I'm sure it will be fun, I just need to figure out what else we should do in So Cal...

I'm trying not to be disruptive at work. Its difficult since on of the people I'm talking to is making me laugh hysterically. I tried to suppress the outburst and the laughter came as tears...

Today is a blur kind of day...

More from the past

This is a piece that I wrote a while back. I'm not exactly sure when. It has to do with a death, one that was especially close to my family. I don't remember much from the time, I was only 8 or so. But the overall experience definitely left an impact on me.

I haven't been exactly sure what to do with this piece since I wrote it. It got lumped in with everything from "Elephant Skin" but I'm not sure that it really belongs in that collection. Especially since that project had a definite time frame and while it was written in that time frame the actual experience predates it by about ten years.

Either way it's about a cousin of mine, James, who died in a car crash. My family used to go to Portland a lot to spend time with my uncle and his family. Shortly before the accident I spent an entire day with James just dinking around Portland, oils changes, hair cuts, that kind of thing. I've always been glad I was able to have that experience. I also think that it made his death just that more impactful. I'd never known someone who died before.

With how often you read headlines like "Federal Way man charged in wife's strychnine death" or see a new death count coming in from wars overseas sometimes it's easy for me to discredit the pain associated with death. Lately when I start to think that death is just another everyday occurrence I often thing of James and how I felt at that time. It helps to put the value of life back into perspective for me.

For a long time I thought that this piece was unfinished because every time that I would read it it felt immature and confused. I finally decided that it was perfect just the way it is, because those two feelings are exactly how I would have to describe myself at the time. Anywho I'm just rambling now...


A Class; All your own

I was eight-year years old,
But I remember the day you died
Cold front of New Year
An angry mountain with no remorse
Her ice – black as night
Her ice – black as death
She took you
In your Japanese imported coffin
And you were gone

Long drive to Portland
No words in a wasteland of nothing
They kept your casket closed
“Children shouldn’t see such things anyways”
Your covered face – revealing horrors
Your covered face – growing stronger
They took you
In your Japanese imported coffin
And you were gone