On weather and other such pleasantries.

I’m the kind of exhausted where I feel like the weather is a part of me.

We are the same.

Wet, grey, a little dark but in comfortable way. Days for hot cocoa and fires. Days where I feel like doing little that isn’t reading.

It’s 10 after 7. I went to bed a little under 13 hours ago. I woke up 8 hours ago, in my bosses’ house, and proceeded to double fist coffee and Red Bull in an attempt to prepare myself mentally for the show. Now I’m home, sprawled (collapsed) in my chair, feeling one of the good kinds of  exhausted, listening to trance around the world, and desiring nothing more than to sit here and read. Perhaps stare out the window. Of course I have too cook dinner, which is throwing a serious wrench in my plans, but even that’s alright. I like this feeling. this what I occasionally miss about Roget’s. This pleasant nostalgia, the exhaustion of having had a good time the night before, and the peace and quiet that comes from everyone being half asleep and a little hungover.

today is grey

-S

I had something to post here…

I went through all the trouble of finding a new client so I could post it, and now I have no idea what the fuck it was that I wanted to post. I have however decided I don’t like this client very much.

Musing on a self defeating practice

A fact that seriously distresses me: I will one day lose my hearing.

I have a nasty habit of trying to completely immerse myself in music. To shut out any and all distractions. This usually involves listening to music REALLY FUCKING LOUD. Which of course means I’m most likely damaging my ear drums, and thus my ability to hear. Now this is exceptionally distressing because I require music. I need it for survival. Now, there are all different kinds of music, and music is everywhere. There is even music in silence. Can you imagine not even being able to hear silence>? I may kill myself. Of course, I probably won’t have to. Without music I’ll probably just die.

Thoughts like this make me wish I knew someone who was deaf. Someone who wouldn’t mind me asking them really stupid probably insensitive questions.

I want to build an isolation tank. I want to be able to fill it with music. I want to sit in darkness and surround myself with sound. I also want every wall to be a movie screen. A full 360 visual immersion. I would cut together images and music. I would probably never leave.

The shit I would do if I had money.

I really like extravagant song titles. Such as ‘The Last Days Of A Tragic Allegory’ Which is the song I was listening to when I started writing this post.

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Winter thoughts, untold desires. Unecessary periods.

There are times when I want to run to the cupboards. Grab a bottle. Upend it into my throat till I sputter and choke. Spilling harsh alcohol down my head and chest. Wipe my mouth on my arm, and throw the bottle out a window.

I love the sound of shattering glass.

There are times when I want to grab you by the hair. Scream in your face till you understand who I am. Burn the building down around you, so you know how much I love.

Fire is so romantic. Like consumption.

There are times when I want to fuck you in doorways. Rip each others clothes off because we are going to die any moment now, and I’ll be damned if I don’t die inside of you.

…..

I sit, huddled in a stairwell, smoking the last cigarette as I watch you sleep. I can see cars passing in the cold light of the predawn. Off on their way. To and From. I taste burning filter and flick it against the wall. The scatter of orange sparks a sharp contrast against the blue of your lips.

…..

Sometimes the desire to put my boot through something overwhelms me. I try to live as nonviolent as life as I can. Sometimes something primal switches on in my brain. Something dark and cruel. Something supremely masochistic.

Sometimes the easiest way to stop yourself from fighting is to realise that you’d walk away from it without a scratch anyway.

Not everyone fights to win, and it’s harder to lose than you might think.

…..

There is a cold in my fingers which makes it difficult to hold on to things. I exhale too long and have trouble catching my breath. Breathing is visible in this chill and I can’t always tell when the smoke becomes mere vapor.

The world is lit in sharp contrasts. Cold light from the sun, reflected via the moon. A distant streetlamp, which creates more shadow than illumination. Lighter flares, and cherry tips glowing in the background. I am reminded of ink paintings of the Muromachi period, as well as modern art-porn. Simple austerity paired side by side with a close up portrait of lips wrapped around cock.

Lonely as it is, I love this city.

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I am putting myself to the fullest possible use, which is all I think that any conscious entity can ever hope to do.

Half the time the music I listen to has a narcotic effect. Listening to it can put one into a trance-like state of altered consciousness. You could use it to commune with your ancestors. Or see Jesus. It is a semi-religious experience. A form of temporary enlightenment, a separation of the frontal lobes. By which I mean:
The music I listen to will FUCK YOU UP.

It also seems to hurt my teeth.

I have a crick in my neck. it comes from being hunched over, like a Buddha with bad posture, in full lotus. Leaning forward over a keyboard, looking up into the monitor, as type this drivel which you will then read.
I am polluting your mind with my perverse sutra. You should thank me.

It’d be great if you thanked me with monies.

But I digress. I wanted to tell you about the smell of plastic feces with which my brain is being pelted with by hypnotic monkey simulations. (you should never open our fridge if you can avoid it)

They are growing meat in labs. Yes this news is nearly a month old and I’m sure many of you are already aware of this and have moved on. Well FUCK YOU, it’s still interesting and I’m writing about it now.
ANYWAY! They estimate it will be commercially available within five years. The future is NOW. Of course, the first thing that comes to mind (as was brought up by many people before me I am quite certain) is: if it’s artificially grown human flesh, is it still cannibalism>?

The thing I find interesting about all of this (well, one of the things anyway) was the comment by the Deranged Ethics Terrorists about how if it didn’t come from dead animals there was no ethical reason against it. HOWEVER they had to take cells from a live animal in order to grow this meat. Last time I checked they didn’t condone the use of animals for science. Or anything else for that matter. Not that I’m saying they’re wrong to say it isn’t unethical. I’m just saying the statement seems a little too sane to have come from them. Perhaps they’re trying to reform their image. You know move away from the ‘sociopathic fucktwat’ look into a ‘harmless lunatic ranting about something misguided’. Kinda like going from serial killer to charming homeless guy outside your work.

Side note on PETA cause I’m thinking of it, I still think PETA vs Doughney was a seriously unconstitutional use of the ACPA. I mean, I get the ACPA. I understand why it exists. But, at the same time… what a sack of infected rectums it actually is.

We are now 4 days away from the NEW YEAR. This in some abstract way means something to people. Less so to me than most I think. However! It is the only Holiday I actually LIKE. Halloween is tolerable and on occasion mildly entertaining. The rest of them inspire festering rot in the whale scrotum that serves as my brain. I’m talking testicular LESIONS inside my skull. Which is to say I’m not really a fan of them. I have recently learned to appreciate a certain piece of holidays. In that, as much as I loathe the majority of everything, I love seeing the people I do not loathe, happy. If holidays make them happy then I will suffer through them without complaint and with a smile on my face (when people are looking). Even if I am forced to endure such things while sober I will NOT break.

Back to the New Year. Even though it shall soon be a new decade, I will not be posting a reminiscence on the last decade. What’s the point>? If you are reading this you lived through it as well as I did and, given what I know about myself (which on a good day is more than you know about me), you probably remember the last ten years a hell of a lot better than I. I am however quite interested in where we are going. I won’t look so far ahead as the next decade yet. At least, not for any predictive purposes. There are lots of things which I know are going to happen over the next ten years, and I am interested in many of them. What I am really interested in though, are the things which will blindside my ass. Humanity may infuriate me on a regular basis but it is capable of many things which are awesome. The food of the future is also fairly exciting, like the afore mentioned lab grown meat, even if it’ll probably hurt my stomach just as much as the real thing (imagine though, genetically engineered bacon grown just for you) The food of the past is also interesting. Not only in the “lets see what it looks like now that 8 hours have passed and someone gave me thermite pills” kind of way. Historical foods are tasty, present foods are tasty. Future foods will kick my ass into dust with happiness.

I desire stimulants. Coffee with a red bull creamer. Maybe a redline chaser. I miss writing on rooftops.

Anyway.

I think I’m coming down now. So I’m out. Be good and try not to fornicate with too many single cell organisms. Sometimes masturbating into a jar, is just masturbating into a jar.

Fuck cigars.

Sean McStravick.

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The brightest light moving away from us, unless it be reflected, is darkness to us.

Holy Crap. RHoM.OMG is one year old.

That revelation hit me like a punch in the gut. The comic has come a long way since it’s birth. An even longer way from it’s conception in the minds of a handful of whack-jobs who (happily, from my point of view) ended up living together. I have to say that we are all VERY fortunate that Phoenix quickly assumed the duties of writer. ’cause at the time I was simply not up to the task. Also, I personally think it is in much better hands this way. I am quite happy to provide the occasional punchline, but Phoenix actually has some grasp of story.

The fact that the comic is a year old threw a lot of stuff into stark relief for me, and I’ve been trying to come to terms with my emotions on the matter. In just a little over a week we will come to the 2nd anniversary of moving out of that glorious house, and the nostalgia I’ve been going through since realizing that has been…almost painful.

It was an AWESOME house.

And one of the best years of my life was spent living there. Even if I didn’t always realize it at the time.
I met some of the most amazing people in the world, and made some of the best friends anyone could hope to have.

I would give a lot to be able to relive some of the moments living there.

I’d even like to be able to just walk through the house again. Maybe someday I’ll be rich, and I’ll buy the house, and turn it into a RHoM museum. So that those of us who lived there can go back and reminisce.

Sure. There was a lot of unpleasantness, but when in life isn’t there>? We’re not perfect. Most of us are only human. As a whole though, I think we have mostly fond memories of our time there. Otherwise why would we be making a comic about it>? Some of the best conversations I ever had were with Artista. Ranging from philosophical and spiritual to utterly absurd. Sometime over the Summer when we need filler I’ll tell you all about Vampire Bears. Which (along with the Wall of Shame) should totally end up in the comic sometime. Anyway, she’s an amazing person. Go check out her art, you’ll see what I mean. And that’s just one of her talents, so give her some love.

I truly cherish my friendship with Phoenix. He is one of the greatest people I’ve come into contact with, and I am deeply saddened that he is no longer a part of my daily life (except in my head). I love him dearly, and wouldn’t give that up for the world.

These people changed my life for the better, I miss them all terribly and will gladly defend them to the death (seriously do not fuck with them, if you do and I hear about it, you are in for a lot of misery).

All I am really trying to say is: Despite the bad things that happened (and they did) I was mostly happy there. I remember the good times and wish it didn’t have to end.

But it did end.
And that was necessary.

It is not just the comic that has grown, we have as well.

I am very pleased that, through the comic, I get to relive (in some small way) times spent in the house. And before, like when we all crammed into my one-bedroom apartment (Super Mario 3 on that tiny ass little TV), or the 6 months spent congregating at 216 (tacos anyone>? Pate with the sombrero and pitcher of margaritas>? Not to mention Mario Party, Double Dash, and all the other video gaming).

So. A selfish plea:

Keep reading.

And tell your friends. It’ll only get better.

And that way, I can keep reliving.

“In water one sees one’s own face; But in wine one beholds the heart of another”
-Wednesday

To record, to encompass.

“We continue in our children, and in our works and in the memories of others; we continue in our dust and ash. To want more was not only childish, but cowardly, and somehow constipatory, too. Death was change; it led to new chances, new vacancies, new niches and opportunities; it was not all loss.

The belief that we somehow moved on to something else – whether still recognisably ourselves, or quite thoroughly changed – might be a tribute to our evolutionary tenacity and our animal thirst for life, but not to our wisdom. That saw a value beyond itself; in intelligence, knowledge and wit as concepts – wherever and by whoever expressed – not just in its own personal manifestation of those qualities, and so could contemplate its own annihilation with equanimity, and suffer it with grace; it was only a sort of sad selfishness that demanded the continuation of the individual spirit in the vanity and frivolity of a heaven.”

-Wednesday

my pokemon bring all the boys to the yard…

Holy crap, I just realized that this place has been blogrolled on the comic site. I should probably post something here more often…mmm naaaah.

Evil Million Dollar Idea Number 71

I want to make a DVD that’s nothing but special features.

It can be the DVD for the movie I make. The one with the trailer that is completely misleading and has nothing to do with the film itself. I’ll spend the entire budget on the trailer to get everyone to see the movie, and then just throw together some minimalist art film.  The trailer will be some big “Blockbuster Summer Action Flick”. Full of one-liners, hot young stars, and awesome special effects.

The DVD won’t have the regular film itself. It will have two or three commentary versions, the trailer, a commentary version of the trailer (maybe two) and every other random special feature I can think of.

I’m sure I’ll rant more on this at some point but my attention span is not so great and my motivation has dwindled.

Evil Marketing Genius
Wednesday

Ticky ticky thought of a gun

“Soon I discovered that this rock thing was true
Jerry lee lewis was the devil
Jesus was an architect previous to his career as a prophet
All of a sudden, I found myself in love with the world
So there was only one thing that I could do
Was ding a ding dang my dang a long ling long”

Holy crap! So there’s a comic up over at  RHoM.omg, and this one’s about me! And condoms. Also I’m apparently the comic’s resident writer-dude. Which means, if the syntax and general quality of this post is any indication, we’re doomed!

Jesus Built my Hotrod

-S