19656/WEBLOG
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tyranny
A sentence written is a sentence haunted. To write: to slice as deep as a page’s bones, to stain its fibers with that spider-eyed black, to brand its hide with the sharp searing of a thin, hot iron. A writer is a semantic sadist, gleefully preparing the tied-and-bound letters on his page for their nigh-inevitable…
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behind
brambles tangled rip pearl curls above angel-hair dirt, dead leaf mulch falling dangle-stains tobacco leather renal video hanging-smell
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Echolocation
Beneath our feet lies an indescribably complex system of caves; spaces devoid of light, insulated from the above-ground world. Bats cling to ceilings for what feels like lightyears in every direction, ominously biding their time. The reverberating sound of dripping water, impossible to locate, punctuates the oppressive silence. This cavern was discovered in the…
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Grandpa
What else can be said of the cowboy? We know his guns and cigars and sticks of dynamite are phallic, his undertones homoerotic, and his very existence a caricature. But should the discussion end here? No– of course not. There are a billion things unsaid of the cowboy, unsaid of his films and hats and…
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SHADERS, SHADERS!
Shaders are some strange form of dark magic brought to this world by beings beyond our comprehension. What the fuck! These things are magical. At first mention, it seems like they would just be used to… y’know… shade things. but this is far from the truth! Shaders allow on-the-fly manipulation of images and textures through…
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Sunday
A lazy Sunday. My eyes hurt, my feet hurt, I want to melt into this shitty couch. I am unmotivated, unfeeling, and unthinking. I accomplish nothing by writing this, just wasting time. Trying to get to tonight faster. Killer of Sheep is playing in the background. I’m watching it for a class. It’s interesting, and…
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Missiles
We live in hell. I live in hell. Specifically, meticulously crafted to cause as much suffering as possible. Action movie music, ballistic techno-babble, shot of a Humvee exploding.Why is this so unsurprising? There are a million websites, a million magazines, a million promotional videos, a million pamphlets showing even worse things in even more corporate…
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Games and place
Our minds appear to be the product of a million connections, between both real and imagined objects. Connections between neurons, between ideas, between words and images, etc. I am no neurologist, or cognitive expert, or really anything, but this seems (empirically) to be the way I experience my thoughts. This could never be proven, especially…
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Kansas City (Also an old journal entry, also unedited)
The Lone Seaman of Kansas CityI stand on my 4th-floor fire escape overlooking the moonlit alleyway, flask in hand. Amorphous dark shadows scurry around down beneath, reminiscent of koi in a pond in some far away eastern land. But, this is no ‘far away eastern land’; this is Home. The Heart Of America, what a…
