Below are the most recent 4 friends' journal entries.

Friday, July 17th, 2009
aeazel	12:32a	Bloodletting In Saul Williams's , said the shotgun to the head. the chapters count down. After the seventh countdown he has a particularly stirring set of words that he's also released as a song on his Not in My Name EP, entitled Bloodletting. I felt like sharing it: o my friends, the greatest americans have not been born yet they are waiting patiently for the past to die please give blood those crumbled tablets were to share a story with a burning Bush where is that voice from nowhere to remind us that the holy ground we walk on purified by native blood has rooted trees whose fallen leaves now color code a sacred list of demands? who among us can give translation of autumn hues to morning news? the anchor man thrown overboard has simply rooted us in history's repeating cycle a nation in its saturn years that won't acknowledge karma where is that voice from nowhere? the one your prophets spoke of? there are voices from fear disconnected from their diaphragms dangling from coffee covered teeth that spill into our laps and burn our privates there are voices from the sides of necks some already noosed dangling participles pronouns running for sentence serving life in corner offices and ghetto corners their voices are the same: dead to themselves numb to the possibility of truth existing beyond that which they can palm in the bleeding hole of their hands, period. there are voices of elders who seem to do no more than damn us to our childish ways for in many households wisdom no longer comes with age so where is that voice from nowhere? that burning bush? that passing dove? I hear voices of generals calling for ammunition voices of presidents calling for arms voices of women calling for help but where is that voice from nowhere? that God of abraham? those crying rocks? can he be heard over the gunfire the whizz of passing missiles the crash of buildings the cries of children the crack of bones the shriek of sirens? or is that his mighty voice? your angry god craving the sacrifice of a virgin generation's son degenerate your holy books: written in red ink on burning sands (...branded into necks, whipped into backs, forced inside of vaginas and anuses, crammed into mouths, rubbed into open sores...) your prayers between rounds do no more than fasten the fate of your children to the hammered truth of your trigger a truth that mushrooms its darkened cloud over the rest of us so that we too bear witness to the short-lived fate of a civilization that worships a male god your weapons are phallic all of them the dummy that sits on your lap is no longer a worthwhile spectacle his shrunken pale face leaves little room for imagination we have spotted your moving lips and have pinned the voice to its proper source it is a source of madness a source of hunger for power a source of weakness we are exiting your colosseum and encircling your box office demanding our families back our rituals back our cultures back our language back and our gods so that we may return them to their proper source the source of life the source of creation the womb of the Great Mother we will cut through the barbed wire hangers and chastity belts we will climb in and incubate our spirits through the winter we will wait through the degenerate course of your repeated history we will wait for the past to die Also, give it a listen (there are some differences): Current Mood: determined Current Music: Saul Williams - Talk to Strangers (Comment on this)
Thursday, July 16th, 2009
aeazel	11:12p	Google & Vanity Vorpal Bunny Ranch, zie is updated. Now that I've actually made a critical analysis post again, the bug has hit me to write the next post, and the next, and the next. That is to say, I love doing it. Happy birthday, VBR. Meanwhile, I decided to Google vanity search myself this evening. The first three hits? My LinkedIn profile, Vorpal Bunny Ranch, and my profile at Iris Gaming Network. Last year? I would have been displaced by a famous art historian (whose specialty was triptychs) and race car driver. No more! Current Mood: happy Current Music: TV On The Radio - Ambulance (Comment on this)
Tuesday, July 14th, 2009
aeazel	10:18a	Decoratin' I finally put up that poster this past week. There isn't much artwork on my wall. At least, I never feel there is enough, though there likely could be said to be tons. (Just took a look at my walls and this is what I see: twelve show posters from Wabash, a wind chime of moons, a mask I created in high school, my bowler hat, two prints from when Amy took photos of Sophia and I, a poster from the Crystal Castles/Rock for Kids show at Double Door, a mannequin hand, and a mirror). Slowly, I think I'll start ordering the prints available at A Softer World in the future. Today? I ordered this one: Current Mood: loved Current Music: David Bowie - Uncle Arthur (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Friday, July 10th, 2009
aeazel	1:24p	Sword of Shannara I hate not finishing a book as much as I do not finishing a game, though I tend to do the latter more often. In the past I've read Terry Brooks's Magic Kingdom of Landover series, which juggled humor and seriousness in equal measure. It amused me as a teen, and was one of my favorite fantasy series. Therefore, this alongside the Coles (of Quest for Glory fame) making a game of the Shannara series meant I picked up a copy of Sword of Shannara from the library. Mistake. I'm almost a hundred pages in and I'll be retiring the book back to its proper place--not near me. Within this first hundred pages, it's obvious that this is a Lord of the Rings knock off. The writing is lazy but superfluous. We have our artifact, sage, history of oppression, the races fighting amongst themselves, and oh look! A person who has to go on a journey to find this artifact and stop the SUPREME EVIL! Not to mention the only two females to have shown up so far? They're both mothers, and both dead. The major historical figures are all male, and only a son can wield this ultimate artifact. Look, fantasy is fantasy because it can move us from a world of our own, not use the same racist and sexist tropes that exist in ours. Get a fucking clue. Yeah, not my cup of tea. Fuck this series. Current Mood: hungry Current Music: Accented English spoken behind me (3 Comments |Comment on this)