New Richmond

there was this girl who lived on front street, her name was chelsie ast, and she moved away a long time ago and died. i have written about her before. she lived in this shitty apartment right by where Joe's Bar and Grill used to be. her window faced the river. right outside of her bedroom window there is this giant tree that is still there. its branches arch out in various random directions. it looks like tim burton planted it himself. when it is cold and the sky is gray and there is snow on the ground it looks like a black monster reaching to grab the grey from the sky and morph into it and become something else. a big and black beacon for a black and bleak.

every one refers to New Richmond at the tail end of a joke. it is a common understanding in conversations with people that the town is horrible and it blows to live here. you don't need to say it. it is already known. every other person you see at the gas station, when you ask them how they are, will say something like well as good as i can be in fucking New Richmond! some people that leave it have a certain sense of snobiness and entitlement. oh i am glad i don't fucking live there anymore and i am glad i got out and god what a bunch of idiots.

(there is this little hidden path of stairs that leads down to the river. hardly anyone goes there or knows that it is there. you go down a first set of stairs and there is a little porch. a huge log sits there, and the second set leads on to the river. a friend of mine showed the secret and we went down there and smoked a joint when we were way too young to smoke a joint and we laughed and giggled about stupid shit, god knows what. a couple years later i followed a pretty girl down there when i was too young to be doing what i was doing and she took me down there and we had sex with each other and it was the first time i ever cheated on a girlfriend. i went home and wept because i felt like a monster.)

i walk around New Richmond a lot. it calms me down. i know what short cuts to take, what parts of town that are best to avoid. and every time, without fail, i see the same five or six houses and think, damn, the world has forgotten about these people. fuck, people that live in fucking cincinnati and kentucky have no idea that the town of New Richmond even exists. it is a vacuum of nothing and emptiness. but i walk around and look at things and maybe listen to some music. everything that i did bad and wrong, i did here first. everything good i felt, i felt it here for the first time.

a cycle of life for someone who is born inside of New Richmond: your mom and dad are usually under the age of 25. you are born and you are fucked right there from the beginning. your mom and dad probably got drunk and forgot to use a condom and BAM, you are a creation of god. you come to in a trailer where your mum, dad, and grandmother, who is about 36, all live together. your first memories are of your parents are either them rolling up blunts or screaming at each other, and your grand ma ma takes care of you 85 percent of the time. you grow up and watch horror movies and play out in the dirt with other kids your age. a couple years past, your dad leaves mum for a younger girl who he gets pregnant, BAM, you got a siser, mom is doing drugs most the time, thanking god for food stamps. you go to school, get in fights, you turn into the trouble kid, the kid who makes the kids from the hill gasp and you are in the principal's office every other day. you don't give a fuck. you get suspended and start hanging out on the street with other kids your age that also got suspended for growing up in the same wretched womb that you did. you ride your bikes up and down the streets, down the secret hills and valleys that only the outlaws know about. you go there and see kids already older then you, mythical figures of freedom and carelessness, and you want to be like them so bad.

a year or two later, your other reckless friend brings a joint he stole off his older brother, and you and a couple other people smoke it and a new feeling of numbness and liberty drenches your mind. you smoke on the weekends and the same older brother buys you some beer. you get drunk and high and have the whole fucking she-bang figured out in this rotten town.

4,5,7,8,9 years later you are still spending the majority of your day looking for bud. half of your income is spent on beer, whiskey, and weed. you have fucked the hottest girl in town a couple times, and the second hottest girl in town, and if your really lucky, the second hottest girl's friend. you talk about nothing but pussy and good weed with your friends, who are just as dazed and lost as you are. every once in a while, you get a glimpse of a better life, of a future where you have your own place and meet someone who understands you and you can grow as a person, but you smoke a blunt and do 6 shots and walk around the streets of holy holy holy New Richmond, your chain, your footing, the place you know better then anyone, the place where you feel every pulse it makes, and you go back to the routine.

one day you get so fucked up that you fuck the third hottest girl in town. you don't use a condom, and BAM, you create god's next child. you get a job at the local Macdonalds and save up enough in nine months to get an apartment, or a trailer with your girlfriend, who you hate, and maybe your mom or dad. the kid is born and you and the girl love him for a little it but then your penis gets bored and you start hitting up girls you know on myspace or texting them or something, and the girl goes out and gets fucked up and your mom babysits 85 percent of the time...

there are generations of hopelessness and loss and weed in New Richmond. a loop, a terrible loop that people are born into and they are not immune to the gravity of this place, of this place where everything that makes you happy/miserable are right there, at your callused finger tips.

(across from the house i grew up in there is a bar called The Landing. a shitty and small bar where people have gone to get drunk for decades. me and my mom and my sister used to stay up late and watch drunken bar fights out of our upstairs window. we would laugh and get excited and be scared and just have a good time. it was a perfect time when it was just three of us, when me and my sister didn't even have a room, we shared a fold out couch, and my mom would work 14 hours a day cutting hair, wondering how she got herself into this mess, the three of us in that tiny two story house. before i met the people who would show me the end and death and shot gun death of innocence, before everything, the three of us roughing it out in a new home, watching drunk assholes fight in the street.)

every once in a while, i go into The Landing and order a glass of scotch and a beer. i drink both slowly, watch the tv, observe people. every time i am there i see something sad and something new. sometimes i go in and get hammered drunk. fuck it, i am in the shit where shit is born, give me another 4 shots and lets see what happens. and everytime i look out the window at my house, and i see my old house, where i lost my virginity and lost my smile and lost my hope and gained my hope and where i was a stupid ass fucking idiot teenager and where i cheated and where i fell in love and where i cried and where i talked on the phone with her for hours and hours and when she told me she was seeing someone else and where you thought that was the end of your life forever and where you moved out and hated it and missed it the minute you left.

i fucking hate New Richmond. i wish i could burn the cocksucker down and kill everyone in it, including myself, and just start over, somewhere else, in a different world, a different universe. chelsie ast deserved more, but she was born here and died young because of it. how many people have we buried at the funeral home in New Richmond? how many young people? you lose count. i buried my best friend. Charles Workman, there at the funeral home, when i was 13. he died because of leukemia. i saw him the day before he died and watched him suffer. nineteen days later, i went to the funeral of John Rodgers, some poor fuck who smoked a joint laced with pcp and died on the spot. his 'friends' dumped him in a fucking playground on bernies lane for his family to find, because they were scared and stupid. nineteen days apart. young and youthful and free and young and too goddamn fucking cocksucking young.

four years later i went to the funeral of Josh Hamilton, a cousin to me related by my stepdad. he died of a drug overdose. Clayton Brown was one of the people who carried the casket of the 19 year old Josh Hamilton down to the car to take him to be buried. Josh was a sweet kid. he was nice to everybody and worked hard. he got into some bad drugs and mixed the wrong painkillers together and died dead because of it.

four months later, Clayton Brown put a morphine patch on his face and died in his sleep. he died in a strangers house and they did not notice he was dead for at least 24 hours. the trailer where he died has since been burned to the ground. he walked his dead friend down into the ground only a few months earlier, and his girlfriend and friends walked him down into the ground then, this hit hitting harder then the last ones. you get used to wounds not healing and new wounds tearing up the old ones. what can you do? you drink(my wonderful poison) or do heroin or oxycotins or whatever.

New Richmond, Ohio. pot smoke making a devils grin that rises above the town. you can see the devils smile hovering over the small town for miles. people pour their shots into the ground because anyone who has ever lived here has saw four or five of their best friends die. New Richmond, Ohio. you. will end. up here one way or another. good times, drinking and bonding with your fellow survivors. playing poker on the back porch in the raw darkness with your brothers, with your soul mate. pictures of you and her playing poker in the raw darkness, with your brothers, only a month before she was to be taken away from you. every tragedy and every first time of hope can be linked to your home. your home of this shit town. your fucking home. your idiot veins.

New Richmond. New Richmond Ohio. 45157.

a little bit of this and that, nothing substantial

i am now hard at work at part two. while part one was very difficult, this one is turning out to be more compact, better written, and the plot is actually turning out to be exciting rather then a difficult tedious puzzle.

anyway, since i enjoyed writing about music my last post, i am just going to start randomly posting videos on here of new bands i find or favorites.

i just found out about this band today. they are called real estate and they are a very easy, breezy, mellowed out band with pretty shiny guitars and lo-fi vocals. good job real estate!



holy fucking shit, how did husker du exist and i not know about them? my indie cred shriveled to nothing. this song has great lyrics and it is a great punk song. i can see how people say indie rock was kind of born around the time of husker du. i mean, they influenced the pixies and rem. anyway i dont know anything aboout fucking anything but i love this song.



as anyone who has been in a car with me or just been anywhere close to me knows i am on a major sleater kinney kick. i always loved them dearly, but after i wrote that piece about corin tucker, where i listened to like 4 hours worth of their music, i am all bjork-fan-who-killed-himselfing out about it. which means i am in love with them. this song sounds amazing live, and shit, that drummer can play those sticks.



and this is just one of my favorites. too much can be said about the national. so just click it. good job national!



just found out about these guy as well. i guess they have been around for 500 years and everyone covers their songs and it turns out that they are pretty good. here ya go. yo la tengo.



i am staring to see that a little bit of a shoegazer trend going on in my tastes. well i better post this just to be safe, so i dont look like a sissy man girlie ass little girl, here is some real bad ass shit:



enjoy with your friends!

orginal voices in music

i am going to now write about of some of my favorite voices in the world of the singing and the dancing.

(i had a longer intro here but looking around on youtube i noticed something, that i am sure a lot of people have noticed/commented on but i just have to put in my three and a half cents: why the fuck would you put a cover on the internet that sucks, and not only that, acknowledge that said cover sucks. like magnetic fields, which i am about to write about, you get covers with titles like "really shitty cover of why i cry on the ukulele". why would you even put something out there with your face and name and suck that bad? if you like or admire the song, why would you butcher it in front of maybe millions of people? and you even admit it sucks? i do not get the kids nowadays. is being noticed more important then being fucking good at something???)

anyway. there are going to be a lot links here for you to feast on so fucking CLICK THEM.

***Corrin Tucker, lead singer and guitarist of Sleater Kinney.****

corine tucker has one of the best singing voices out of any body in any genre in any timeline. the only female i think comes close the heartless bastards, and while they are good, sleater kinney is pretty much the end all female voices in the indie/punk scene. you see a lot of bands that come out with a girl lead singer or an all girl line up and the press swallows it up like its something unheard of. "these girls can not only play music, they sing about blowing off guys, they sing about female empowerment!" and they use this hyperbole to talk about bands like fucking pink or no doubt or paramore or whatever, taylor swift, i dont know.

here was a band that was more true to their guns then most indie bands that i listen to. shit, modest mouse, death cab for cutie, even fucking sonic youth all jumped over the a major label. which is fine, i dont give a shit along as the music stays good, but sleater kinney stayed DYI till the very end. their music was always loud,raw, tight, deep, and beautiful, both on record and live. they were self referential in the way they would use classic riffs and vocal melodies from classic rock songs, and make it sound like some new found breed of sound that was about the crack the earth in two. the embodied female power and truth by just getting out there and doing it louder and better then everybody else. thats how you change minds, thats how you get respect, not by talking about how much of a pioneer, or how much of a role model you are, but by doing it.

but every time corin tuckers sings, her voice hits the bone right where it should. she is absolutly beautiful, singing about topics ranging from driving to the golden gate bridge to jump off of it, waiting in the hospital waiting to find out if her son is going to live after giving birth, to flat out calling out the guys with their guitars trying to be badass. after fans kept yelling for her to show her tits, she went on stage with a t shirt that said "show us your riffs". they were a great band, and while i understand why she stepped away from the music scene, to be a full time mother to her two children, its a shame for the rest of us.

an interview with corin

your no rock and roll fun

the swimmer




*** Stephin Merrit, lead singer and songwriter of the Magnetic Fields.***

i found out about these guys watching an old pete and pete episode. it was the one where artie leaves town , forcing pete to grow up. it may or may not make me cry. it doesnt. but it might. anyway over the credits played this way too gorgeous song for a nickelodeon show. i forgot about it until a couple weeks after the accident, and i looked it up and bam, like that, i found one of my favorite songs. i listen to why i cry a little too much. and like smoking weed for the first time, it was a gateway drug to a great pop band.

i have said that i would love to be stephin merrit. not because of his enormous talent, but because he is such an externally cranky and disinterested human being. one of my all time favorite interviews is with him and and this dorky emo kid. i dont know how this interview happened, but it is so funny and awkward that is makes me smile. i wish most people would react to such stupid questions with the same disdain. i wish i could get away with talking to most people with that kind of open boredom.

but the song at the beginning is actually a great little summary of his music. he is a morose gay man playing a ukulele singing about wanting to be a topless dancer and a playboy bunny and a backstreet hooker. it is funny, weird, and kind of sad. his music exists in this weird cloud of real, actual emotion and very dark ideas, but also this odd irony and detachment. one song could be a dark acoustic narrative about killing himself for no good reason, and the next song is a distorted epic about hating california valley girls. but the music is always poppy, catchy. the band is just natural genius, someone writing about love and loss and life and death, not calling any attention to himself, writing consistent and unpretentious pop songs.

100,000 Fireflies

I Don't Want to Get Over You

Too Drunk to Dream (the story of my fucking life)



*** Alec Ounsworth, solo songwriter, lead singer songwriter to Clap Your Hands Say Yeah***

Alec Ounsworth is probably the best example of someone following their own muse. the very idea of the audience digging anything he does never even pops up in the back of his mind, i am sure. his voice is a high pitched wail of something falling down a very long flight of stairs. his work with clap your hands and say yeah is a very urban and smoky indie rock sound, while his solo stuff is a little more neil young. but thats not to say that any thing he writes sounds like anything else. he is one of the most mysterious and baffling musicians that i listen to on a regular basis. his lyrics are fragments of a bigger and larger idea, but you are not invited to the big picture. the odd thing is, once you get past the vocal pyrotechnics, there is a kind of calm and serenity to all his songs.

i guess what i am trying to say is Alec Ounsworth is more about the mood and the feeling then a direct interpretation of what he is doing. if you get it, you get it. and if you don't, then thats perfectly understandable. you get the feeling that he is making music for nobody but himself, and that line of thinking breeds an unique and kind of insane creativity that you kind of have to just ride the wave on.

personal side note here: one of my most beloved memories is of me and lindsey drinking rum and smoking a joint, doing nothing but listening to music and talking about life and art and whatever song was on. lindsey took a while to warm up to the whole indie scene as a whole, but once she got the feeling behind the band or the song, she would love it, and not only love it, but interpret it in a way that would make me understand it better. i could say that i was "in" or that i "got" it, but i didnt really get something all the way until she did. anyway, we are high as fuck and drunk as fuck and this song comes on the ipod. and for some odd reason, we shut up and just listen to this song. it is scary and weird and demented, catchy and melodic but unhinged, and the last two minutes is easily some of the most grating, annoying, genius, psychotic verses put to record. and we just sit there and nod our heads, and when the climax comes, when the Alec Ounsworth loses his shit and starts chanting with the beat, we both geek out at how much it makes sense. we both understood something abstract and crazy at the same time for the same reason, and nothing needed to be said about it. that moment made the song a favorite of mine for the rest of my life, and every time i listen to it, i think of that moment and it makes the whole thing an infinite and bigger then life affair.

Holy Holy Holy Moses

Modern Girl(with scissors)


enjoy. i will start doing this type of thing more often, even though it takes me hours and hours, it is fun.

hate mail that i get

Dear Matthew,

Well good job, you moron, but you have been highly successful in your efforts to offend and shame not only me but the entire craft of literature. You see, I am a considered a literary giant at my college, which I would name, but trust me, a sycophant like yourself has neither the knowledge or the income to know. My work has been published in many local fiction compilations, and I have yet to meet a professor that has not been blown away by my grasp on character, structure, and most of all, prose. Anyway I was browsing through the internet when somehow the dreadful hand of fate brought me to your page. I have to say, it took me everything from smashing my laptop right then and there. Where does one like me begin to shred someone like you. First off, it is obvious that you have never been to college. Your form is non-existent ,and the errors of your grammar could be a book all in itself. The rules are there. You can not break them at your will. Even at your best, it is still obvious you stole the trick from that hick hack hogwash that Cormac Mcarthy writes. I hope you choke on your booze, you festering Neanderthal idiot. Your stories are nothing more then pornographic glorifications of drug addiction and whorish behavior. The Part One of your so called "Epic" is a disgusting horror show of violence and unappealing characters. Your Protagonist archetype insults a man whose son has just been murdered, drinks on the job, has strained relations with his daughter and coworkers, and this is supposed to be the person who draws us into to story. YOU MAKE ME SICK. I will see you, looking down as i sit upon my throne as best selling author of our time, you drunken buffoon.

Sincerely,
"Writer"






hey matthew! you fucking SUCK you fucking faggot! why dont you go suck yo mommas dick and get fucked. i cant even read half of your shit beacayse i dont listen to any queer talk, fucking dick lover. get fucked and i hope you fucking die you fucking nigger fucker.





Matt,

I was so offended by your work that i wrote a poem:

Lady
everyday
is a summer lie
lay, i said
as the ever greens rose
a red rose
a top the ladder
to hell
to heaven
either way
born to be something
yet entitled by madness
to be young
pony boy, why does the heart cry?

Take that asshole!





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Matt, hey, i was just reading your post on hate mail, and i got to wandering, how do you get so much hate mail if no one reads your site? how am i sending you this when the post hasnt been written yet....holy shit, am i real? i dont know, i have no memory of anything before this email. i am the email? is my exsitance nothing more then the internet? the program is shutting in. the progam is out. all of your young people. i never had a bike i didnt like i never had a bike i didnt like i never had a biek i didnt like you are never alone the eyes are on your back when you sleep and you cry and and every one will die when the mannnnnnnniiisiiisssisisskksiissikkksiikkkiskkiiskk reaches the sh oooooooooore lines lines line slines who am i am iam ahwho am i i never had a bike i didnt like i never had a bike a ididnt like.

system /// http//organicthoughtprocess level 56..09,

checking system reboot, left, please press the F2 key for reaction. press the F5 key for reflection. Press the F11 key for redemption. Press the F8 key for Revenge revenge. Press ctrl alt 7667 for a last shot at california.

Lindsey Haynes, what i could find

this is all of what i could find that lindsey haynes wrote on the internet. there is another blogspot page floating around, and she wrote some damn good shit on there, but i can not find it. i think her wit shines through everything she wrote, and i will keep posting more things she wrote as i find them. anyway...


UPDATE!!!! i found her other page, and it is the best of them all. sorry about how long this post is, but i want a place where all of her stuff is here and i can share it and have it:

MONDAY, JULY 27, 2009

every time i get to this screen, it never feels right. its not my place. something cant come out. i feel too responsible for my words and i dont want to say anything i shouldnt.
i feel like that every time i try to write. i feel like im not fully myself and that bothers me very deeply. i think, i know, i have something to say. i have lots and lots of things to say. things that people would probably like to hear or read. i know im not wasting my time with my thoughts but for some reason, whenever i get here, i always feel like i am. i also know that everyone feels this way. that doesnt make me feel any better. im smarter than them. theres no excuse.
i had a dream the other night about little mexican children. each with a sunflower. running around in the desert sun through dusty streets in a small town of mud homes. i came to the edge of the town where the sunflowers grew in a garden in front of one of the houses. it was one of the most beautiful things i can remember seeing in any of my dreams and i realized...i cant remember the last good dream that ive had...not for years...actually, not ever. i wanted to at least write that out so i could come back and remember it in case, sometime years from now, when i havent had a good dream in a while, i can remember it.
now that ive said that i wonder if it sounds silly or mellow dramatic. it doesnt. or...i dont care if it does. if this is what reading mr. mccarthy is going to give me when i fall asleep, i will read every dark, dirty, dispicable novel he has to offer. i may just do that anyway because i enjoy reading them that much. i was nervous that i would not like him. i mean, i really wanted to because the idea of that guy is fantastic to me. living alone somewhere, maybe with a dog for company. with nothing but his whiskey and his words. i was worried his asthetic would be too much. that his language wouldnt hit home. that maybe, as a female, i wouldnt exactly relate to everything he had to share. because some empathy gene would prevent me from enjoying the storyline and i would have to sacrifice pieces of myself that i generally refuse to give up to any medium because i have worked so hard to carve them out of my psyche in the first place. i was very surprised, and still am so, that i can hang on his every word. i dare say that i share some similar opinions with this man.
sip of wine. bitter. woody. better the more you drink it really.
i dont know why i choose dark wine. to be honest. i lied the first time someone asked me whether i prefer white or red wine. i always just thought of myself as a red wine person. which, is not necessarily true and the more i meet wine drinkers (who arent really wine drinkers. they may like a few that theyve tasted so they dub themselves as such for life ) they arent really one or the other either. they like something that isnt going to force them into an embarrassing bitter face when they drink it in front of their friends. doesnt matter if its red or white. im beginning to like the ones that i dont like right away. and i think thats what it means to truly be a wine drinker. real wine makes you work for it. and when you get to the point where you're comfortable drinking something this woody and tangy and tart, it's an interesting statement on 'accuired taste' and patience. or possibly just a statement on the persistence of pride on someone who wont give up one lie they started telling and now when presented with the choice of white zen or merlot, will opt for the merlot without fail.
i want the job of those guys on toplessrobot, slashfilm or videogum. no, i could never compete with gabe. maybe..
but im pretty fuckin positive, every other nameless, pretentious joe out there with a blog is just dying for some big name brand to come along and rescue him from his mundane, cushy office job he spends his lunch breaks writing his great pieces of art on as well.
what's monetize?
gonna have to check that out when im done. sounds fun.
i was going to write about sexism. female exploitation. so played out. such an upward fucking battle because of its stretch into our lives. even mine. thats why i cant exactly write about it i guess. i mean. im not megan fox. and when i say that.... i mean im not a dumb tramp. not that im not as attractive as she is. i cant compare. she makes a living off of those tits and that ass and that sexy pout and those sex kitten moves. who wouldnt want to do her? my point is, ive been a hoe. ive been an idiot girl with nothing to offer but sex. thats the truth. i was there at one point in my life because i thought that was what i was supposed to be and all that i could be to any man. thats what men want. and she is still there in that mindset. she and millions of women in this stupid fucking retarded redneck cocksucking country are still fucking there. i can spend all my time wishing there was some way to convince these women that it does not have to be such an indulgent society. that all of us would truly truly be better off, men and women alike, if there was more expectation for attractive women to be intelligent.
look, kill the ugly women. seriously. fuck ugly men as well. get rid of them. whatever. no one wants them around cramping their fucking style. but please god put some fucking substance back in the the strong genes that are procreating all over the place. put some smarts into these people. guys and girls alike. girls mostly though because lets face it, women these days, in the media mostly (which causes the snowball effect into the rest of our homes and kids heads) are SHITFUCKINGRETARDED. it is soooooo embarrassing for me as a woman to see chicks like the one from miss america on tv. honestly.
so there i wrote about sexism and female empowerment. im gonna stop there because im irritating myself with this shit. i know that most women would agree with me...but none of them can resist the feeling of being a sexual magnet. and therein lies the problem.
saul on my lap rubbing my chin. purring in my ear. poor guy just wants some love.
its 11 now. i should be going to bed. for the dogs and for myself. but i still have a glass of wine to drink and i dont want to stop now. if i do. it might be a while before i do this again.
shakey is wrapped up so tight on the couch i cant tell where his head is.
oh my god. the first few notes of the family guy theme just came on and i felt such an overwhelming sensation of comfort and satisfaction i can never describe it.
brian: "i dont know what a holla back girl is, all i know is i want her dead"
oh yes that feels good.

ok i feel better about ending this now. im going to enjoy this wonderful show and crash happy.
POSTED BY THEORCHID AT 7:04 PM 0 COMMENTS
TUESDAY, MAY 19, 2009

i hate labels
I was listening to Neutral Milk Hotel's Oh Comely today. I felt inspired. This is what happened.


tip toe through solace and count
all our blessings as beautiful ladies
give life to our blasphemy
take time in context
remember your purpose
you'll never escape the gray
forever fading it's
times like these
where were we heading?
when did we leave?

my hopes are not feeble the
sunset will hold me close
rocking my soul to sleep
sing your sweet melody
take all you want from me
i am not worthy i
lack the sincerity
and everything in between
i'll build you a temple
i'm strong if i'm able

your eyes are impressive they
almost say something
you're lucky i'll look away
safe for another day
i am a child i'm
bright with my reason the
right of my passage is
laced with indifference



POSTED BY THEORCHID AT 9:35 PM 0 COMMENTS
SUNDAY, MAY 17, 2009

bill says it best
Bill Maher:
The irony of religion is that because of its power to divert man to destructive courses, the world could actually come to an end. The plain fact is, religion must die for mankind to live. The hour is getting very late to be able to indulge having in key decisions made by religious people. By irrationalists, by those who would steer the ship of state not by a compass, but by the equivalent of reading the entrails of a chicken. George Bush prayed a lot about Iraq, but he didn't learn a lot about it. Faith means making a virtue out of not thinking. It's nothing to brag about. And those who preach faith, and enable and elevate it are intellectual slaveholders, keeping mankind in a bondage to fantasy and nonsense that has spawned and justified so much lunacy and destruction. Religion is dangerous because it allows human beings who don't have all the answers to think that they do. Most people would think it's wonderful when someone says, "I'm willing, Lord! I'll do whatever you want me to do!" Except that since there are no gods actually talking to us, that void is filled in by people with their own corruptions and limitations and agendas. And anyone who tells you they know, they just know what happens when you die, I promise you, you don't. How can I be so sure? Because I don't know, and you do not possess mental powers that I do not. The only appropriate attitude for man to have about the big questions is not the arrogant certitude that is the hallmark of religion, but doubt. Doubt is humble, and that's what man needs to be, considering that human history is just a litany of getting shit dead wrong. This is why rational people, anti-religionists, must end their timidity and come out of the closet and assert themselves. And those who consider themselves only moderately religious really need to look in the mirror and realize that the solace and comfort that religion brings you comes at a horrible price. If you belonged to a political party or a social club that was tied to as much bigotry, misogyny, homophobia, violence, and sheer ignorance as religion is, you'd resign in protest. To do otherwise is to be an enabler, a mafia wife, for the true devils of extremism that draw their legitimacy from the billions of their fellow travelers. If the world does come to an end here, or wherever, or if it limps into the future, decimated by the effects of religion-inspired nuclear terrorism, let's remember what the real problem was. We learned how to precipitate mass death before we got past the neurological disorder of wishing for it. That's it. Grow up or die.

POSTED BY THEORCHID AT 10:14 PM 0 COMMENTS
SATURDAY, MAY 16, 2009

potatoes or something else inane and obscure i dont know
so ive been reading The Dark Knight Returns by Frank Miller. i like batman, i think he's a swell guy. comics are one of those things like vegetables or modest mouse i experienced at one point and hated and eventually it clicked for me. i still hate water chestnuts. i always liked batman though. i remember watching the animated series as a kid everyday after school. i dont know where this is going it could get pretty deep considering it's 1:29 in the morning. we watch cartoons of superheroes as kids and then they make us read Camus in highschool. scary existentionalism shown to a young Christian girl in a classroom of her peers. thats a jarring experience. mostly for the fact that....i kinda liked it. i kinda could maybe possibly relate to this guy.
we get a little older and realize that the heroes and villians weren't heroes and villians but people you see everyday. on the street. in the mirror. the ideas shown to us that we hated because we couldnt accept that we didnt have something figured out for that moment. that our entire experience with the knowledge we had struggled to gain could be beaten out or wisked away so easily. gone with the wind. because someone else thought of something we hadnt yet. im rambling. i know i have a fucked up complex on this sort of thing but if i didnt i wouldnt know anything i know now. i mean....i might.....no no i wouldnt. no way. a strange fucking thing that the complex of knowledge would be your complex. gay call service comercial on tv. good for them. where was i? oh, yes the complex is the complex is the complex. its not really that complicated. we (and by we i mean i, because i can only know what i know) make it that complicated.
good guys get the bad guys the end. i dont really know if im a good guy. i have this weird icky feeling that...probably not. when it comes down to it. and buy 'it' i guess it would be a dire situation. cuz im just treading water at this point. i go with the flow i suppose. when shit hits the fan....people start dying in large numbers (yes that is coming. we all feel it) i will survive. and i have the capacity to do some things that young Christian girls probably would never imagine being capable of doing. is that it? we can only truly know ourselves at our worst? is that the 'truth'? i dont believe in 'god'. i dont believe in judgment. i am not an atheist. im not anything. i guess on paper, technically i would be a nihalist. a hibernating nihalist haha. or im a liar. either way...im not a good Christian girl anymore. with the knowledge i have gained from all my cartoons and people watching...i have no faith. in mankind. in god. in justice. in the world. i have faith in me. but not too much. i dont give myself that much credit as a person because as a person, i havent done a whole lot of good or bad to really be anything of consequence. because that is all that there is is situation and consequence. and deep deep deep down, that is what i believe in. the only thing i have faith in. the science of cause and effect.
so.....we create the rules. the lines. we dont wanna cross. others will be punished for crossing. why? for whatever reasons we make up. and then we teach our kids which lines are kindof ok to cross in certain 'situations' and which mistakes are unacceptable. at some point, the levys gonna break. the wall of denial will come tumbling down.
++++spoiler alert++++
even batman breaks his only rule.


POSTED BY THEORCHID AT 11:14 PM 0 COMMENTS
WEDNESDAY, APRIL 22, 2009

Hannah Montana
written by charlie coughman vicariously through lindsey haynes
The Hannah Montana Movie

Satan-Hannah Montana
Hannah Montana-Miley Cyrus
God-Tyra Banks
Miley's friends, fans and family-Miley Cyrus

Miley Cyrus plays Hannah Montana playing Satan and all the other characters in the film.
Satan is gathering an army for the uprising. He meets God (Tyra) along the way to discuss philosophy and the truth of each religion in the minds of men. Hannah walks through each scene faintly aware that her closest friends and family members are Miley Cyrus, therefore causing Miley (in the movie) to become very wigged out and ask all kinds of paranoid questions. Hannah does not care much because she does not know that she is Satan or Miley Cyrus. The movie ends with Miley (as Hannah and Satan) looking into a mirror in her dressing room talking to/through each character at the other. It ends when she stands, pulls out her abnormally large penis, does a karate kick and walks out.
~more details to come..


from her twitter page:

mmmm birthday cake
12:00 PM Jul 20th, 2009 from web
got sucked into watching America's got Talent. oh boy
9:20 PM Jul 8th, 2009 from web
listening to some great new music lately. i really enjoy animal collective at this point, despite my best efforts not to..
2:17 PM Jul 8th, 2009 from web
had a blast at the gorge. need to do that again soon
12:23 PM Jul 6th, 2009 from web
i cannot put into words the incredible experience i had this weekend. i will share details when my head stops spinning.
5:07 PM Jun 15th, 2009 from web
can barely contain my excitement for next weekend. it hasn't fully hit me yet. wilco, the boss, NIN in one night?? yes please
5:03 PM Jun 4th, 2009 from web
tried to lay out for a while.. waaay too muggy. i need to convince the parental units to buy a pool...
2:26 PM Jun 2nd, 2009 from web
listened to The Runaway by The National. check it out if you feel like crying
1:47 PM May 26th, 2009 from web
can't sleep. watching Look Around You on [adult swim]. you Brits are so weird
12:56 AM May 20th, 2009 from web
drank some peppermint tea to help the sinuses. it was delicious. it did not help. i can still hear my heartbeat in my forehead.
7:05 PM May 14th, 2009 from web
found him. nevermind
6:59 PM May 14th, 2009 from web
Steve Buscemi is no longer twittering.....i demand to know why!
6:55 PM May 14th, 2009 from web
i dont have the energy to explain whats going on in my head today. take my word its fascinating and completely unique
5:34 PM May 10th, 2009 from web
@aesopcrucible i dont mean to seem like i care about material things (like my social stats). we could see them matt...we could see them
5:36 PM May 3rd, 2009 from web in reply to aesopcrucible
reading The Essential Rumi. makes my soul feel good
1:04 PM May 3rd, 2009 from web
met a toad this morning. he enjoys hemingway, a nice massage and long walks on the beach
8:47 AM May 1st, 2009 from web
i hate stupid commercials. i hate sexism. so...i hate most commercials. gimme a camera, i'll sell somethin. without the sex
7:21 PM Apr 30th, 2009 from web
free love on the free love freeway the love is free and the road is long..
7:18 PM Apr 30th, 2009 from web
@overtherhine no it's next to wheel in the vines in the driveway. its at eye level so you can watch them :)
10:05 PM Apr 29th, 2009 from web in reply to overtherhine
@aesopcrucible you watch your tongue sir. faraday was a man of great intelligence and dignity. show him some respect
9:45 PM Apr 29th, 2009 from web in reply to aesopcrucible
ok mr. president...yes you have smart things to say but it's time for LOST now....
7:57 PM Apr 29th, 2009 from web
@Steve_Buscemi just saw you on The Simpsons. you have a great voice Mr. Buscemi
7:01 PM Apr 29th, 2009 from web in reply to Bye_Buscemi
@aesopcrucible you got me all scared of it now...
6:01 PM Apr 29th, 2009 from web in reply to aesopcrucible
i found a cardinal nest. with babies in it! ^.^
12:54 PM Apr 29th, 2009 from web
@overtherhine You guys sound wonderful. I never get to tell you what a fan I am. Trumpet Child gave me chills.
9:41 AM Apr 29th, 2009 from web in reply to overtherhine
Alias is a show about a spy.....
7:45 PM Apr 28th, 2009 from web
what are you doing twitter? huh? quit hounding me jeez
8:42 AM Apr 28th, 2009 from web
@aesopcrucible that's a bit of an overreaction
8:40 AM Apr 28th, 2009 from web in reply to aesopcrucible
clearing out the cobwebs....figuratively of course
3:43 PM Apr 27th, 2009 from web
@aesopcrucible jon hamm is mysteriously handsome....emile hirsch is soul crushingly cute....jeez =)
3:42 PM Apr 27th, 2009 from web in reply to aesopcrucible
i think i need more than 140 characters...i always feel the need to explain myself
1:00 PM Apr 22nd, 2009 from web
let me rephrase that...I'm old enough to think about what it was like to be young...
12:59 PM Apr 22nd, 2009 from web
My cousin had a baby; Addison. I think I'm starting to get to an age where it's appropriate to be nostalgic....or at least acceptable.
12:58 PM Apr 22nd, 2009 from web
i don't mind the rain. it's good thinking weather
2:40 PM Apr 20th, 2009 from web
i taught my cat how to fetch yesterday =D it's so cute!
3:29 PM Apr 17th, 2009 from web
Seedy Seeds; I love you, but get out of my head! Le Petit Patton Le Petit Patton You are my little kitten You're my little song
12:28 PM Apr 16th, 2009 from web
thinking of dying my hair...blue i'm so edgy ^.^
2:40 PM Apr 14th, 2009 from web
watched The Dark Knight for the fourth time last night....it gets better every time
12:35 PM Apr 13th, 2009 from web
I want to be a beekeeper. I want to keep bees...and I don't want 'em to get away.. ~Mr. Izzard
7:06 PM Apr 12th, 2009 from web
Michael Moore documentaries should be required viewing for high school students
12:05 PM Apr 12th, 2009 from web
Dogs are the best kind of people. Thinking of buying a ticket to Bonnaroo...
3:55 PM Apr 8th, 2009 from web
@mourghan seriously...
3:53 PM Apr 8th, 2009 from web in reply to mourghan
Been following Charlie Kaufman and Spike Jonze this past week. My brain hurts 8/ Didn't know these men existed...I'm glad they do.
4:57 PM Apr 7th, 2009 from web

Forgot I had a twitter.
4:54 PM Apr 7th, 2009 from web


from her myspace blog:


the jonas brothers: a national treasure
i saw a picture of these little dweebs and felt compelled to do some research.
i looked up some info on wiki-ality and learned that they have been nominated for 43 awards, winning 21 including best international artist on Los Premios MTV Latinoamérica. they have 4 albums and apparently all of this fame and fortune came about because the father of the boys wrote a Christmas song that the littlest Jonas, Nick, sang on broadway during an AIDS benefit concert. how frickin adorable.
apparently, the middle Jonas, Joseph (or Joe to his adoring fans) never had plans of becoming a singer...but the executive at Columbia Records decided to sign the boys as a group....little Joey thought, 'what the hey, i'll give this singin stuff a shot.' and off they were on their magic carpet of dreams and starlight. catapulted into history and the hearts of millions of hormone driven tween girls, selling over eight million albums worldwide.
memo to me: write letter to whoever created this horrible horrible term; tween

what does this little Cinderella story say about the American music and entertainment business? well it says the same thing that American Idol and America's got Talent are saying....

which is why we need to stop supporting this decline of substance in our art and culture.
which is why i am writing this blog. someone who reads this may feel compelled to turn off the tv when these shows come on or change the station to NPR instead of indulging in this junk food that not only projects to the world how lazy and conformed and image-obsessed we have become, but slows down the production and expression of real artists with real talent who start from the ground up and work their asses off to do what they love.

that is all

oh i forgot Miley! throw her in there somewhere.


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Tuesday, December 09, 2008

more good lyrics
Category: Music
Saint Simon Lyrics:

After all these implements and text designed by intellects
so vexed to find evidently there's just so much that hides
And though the saints of us divine in ancient Feeding lines
their sentiment is just as hard to pluck from the vine

I'm trying hard not to pretend
allow myself no mock defense
As I step into the night

Since I don't have the time nor mind to figure out
The nursery rhymes that helped us out in making sense of our lives
The cruel uneventful state of apathy releases me
I value them but I won't cry every time one's wiped out

I'm trying hard not to give in
Battened down to fair the wind
rid my head of this pretense
allow myself no mock defense
As I step into the night

Mercy's eyes are blue
when she places them in front of you
nothing holds a roman candle to
the solemn warmth you feel inside


there's no measuring of
nothing else is love

I'll try hard not to give in
Battened down to fare the wind
Rid my head of this pretense
Allow myself no mock defense
As I step into the night

Mercy's eyes are blue
When she places them in front of you
nothing really holds a candle to
the solemn warmth you feel inside of you

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Monday, December 08, 2008

good lyrics
Category: Music
Lyrics to Secret Meeting :
I think this place is full of spies
I think they're onto me
Didn't anybody, didn't anybody tell you
Didn't anybody tell you how to gracefully disappear in a room
I know you put in the hours to keep me in sunglasses, I know

And so and now I'm sorry I missed you
I had a secret meeting in the basement of my brain
It went the dull and wicked ordinary way
It went the dull and wicked ordinary way
And now I'm sorry I missed you
I had a secret meeting in the basement of my brain

I think this place is full of spies
I think I'm ruined
Didn't anybody, didn't anybody tell you
Didn't anybody tell you, this river's full of lost sharks
I know you put in the hours to keep me in sunglasses, I know

And so and now I'm sorry I missed you
I had a secret meeting in the basement of my brain
It went the dull and wicked ordinary way
It went the dull and wicked ordinary way

And now I'm sorry I missed you
I had a secret meeting in the basement of my brain
And now I'm sorry I missed you
I had a secret meeting in the basement of my brain
It went the dull and wicked ordinary way
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Monday, November 24, 2008

john mayer
say what you need to say.

say what you need to say. say what you need to say. say what you need to say.

say what you need to say.

say what you need to say. say what you need to say. say what you need to say. say what you need to say. say what you need to say. say what you need to say.

say what you need to say john mayer.

7:34 PM 1 Comments(Add Comment) |2 KudosTranslate
Sunday, September 14, 2008

i am robot
they have a list of emotions on your home screen to choose from. templates for your emotions.

that is all

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Sunday, August 17, 2008

Hung over at Home
last night i had more fun in a group of people than i have in a long time.
so thanks Chris and Mitch for letting us party at your place
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Sunday, June 08, 2008

Bonnaroo
I can't go.....
so...Thursday, Friday and Monday I'm free....
whats goin on?


p.s. new email: linz.haynes@gmail.com
hit me up homies
6:23 PM 2 Comments(Add Comment) |1 KudosTranslate
Saturday, January 26, 2008

Death
Myspace is where good ideas go to die.
:)
10:15 PM 1 Comments(Add Comment) |0 KudosTranslate



from her first blogspot page:

Jesus
no this blog is not about 'He who died for your sins'
its a blaspheming swear word
who reads this shit anyway?
GO DO SOMETHING
why would you want to read about someone elses bullshit day?
all im gonna do is bitch
starting now
actually you know what? no im not gonna.
im leaving this shit hole. i lie its not really a shit hole, its a horrible collaboration of people. and they all have why-me syndrome. i suppose it seems hypocritical of me to say so. but thats the reason i have to leave.
fuck it
Posted by honey bunny at 5:41 AM 0 comments
Friday, June 22, 2007
im ready for the apocalypse...and everyone wants to hold my hand while i cross the street
the shins are right. caring is creepy
and im never smoking again
my horoscope today:
Your current dilemma is a familiar one. You may struggle with deciding what to express to someone close to you. You are inclined to quietly hold your feelings and just go along with the external flow of events. But there may be something gnawing at you: you want to bring your needs out into the open, but may fear rejection or even ridicule. Ride your emotions wherever they may take you, but don't worry now about disclosing anything that doesn't come easily.

are these things so accurate because they state matter-of-factly? or is there something cosmic at work here?
i suppose its all relative, but i consider all feeling that gets so big it has to bleed its way out, a large percent of bullshit and unjustified, why-me syndrome.
too deep
oh well
im tryin goddamnit
Posted by honey bunny at 11:28 AM 0 comments
Monday, May 21, 2007
Pop
I was thinking about pop culture in general the other day. Does nobody realize that everyone...well, not everyone. there are a few deserving individuals.....but for the most part, most that we have risen to such god-like stature in our society is either a raving moron or a raving drug addict or a raving homosexual...not that i have anything against homosexuality but the fact that someone is praised and (well lets face it) almost idolized because of their sexual orientation is beyond remedial and sick on levels we americans have so graciously decended to.

Oh lord i shouldn't even get started on this whole 'emo' phase. There is no excuse for this to be such a widely excepted state of mind. And all the soccer moms go, "oh they're just expressing themselves.".......bullshit. 'EMO' started out as 'emotional rock' a musical genre. What the hell has it become? Black on black on black on pasty white skin, loving my girlfriend so much i wanna rip her heart out and eat it before i cut myself to death. And...nobody is worried? Nobody is concerned that almost an entire generation is influenced by this point of view? You wanna know why this is such an influencial cry for help? because it's conformity through non-conformity. Of course it's just a phase, and these kids will get tired of the fad soon, but not without help. And not the kind of 'i understand your problems and you have every right to be upset -yada -yada' help. NO, they need someone to explain that when Forest Gump said life was like a box of chocolates, he did not mean it was sweet and cream filled. He, meant your gonna bite into raspberry and get dog shit. Every time. Until you get to that beautiful raspberry or [insert favorite] at the bottom. And it's gonna be so much sweeter. Because you would not know how good it was without all of the bad. That's my analogy anyway. My point is kids are being taught to keep as much good around them as possible, (by good i mean positive influences on intellect, moral value, and general decency), and keep out the bad, which, is not a bad thing. Wouldn't it be better though, to teach them to live with the bad? Especially in the world we're living in. Instead of feeling sorry for themselves, to really stand up and say something about something. Then appreciate those small bits of good that fall into our lives. To train them to look for those Real moments when life is worth living, and appreciate them for what they really are? I can tell you we wouldn't have these self-inflicted, emotionally unstable, depressing edward-scissor-hands walking around.

Wow where was my point?
Oh yeah, pop culture...it's slowly draining every ounce of decency and reality from everyday life. Reality is TV now...how desperate can we get for entertainment? Idiocracy...watch it. Ok movie, terrifying subject matter. Just watch, you'll see what i mean.

I'm sure this will be an ongoing topic of discussion with me. There's just too much to pick apart.
So until next time..
~HB
Posted by honey bunny at 5:01 AM 2 comments
Friday, May 11, 2007
Whilst i was perusing through blogs, i stumbled upon a forum titled, Overcoming Bias. The forum itself intrigued me but i was especially interested in a post called, Feeling 'Rational'. The post basically expressed the connection of feeling to rational or irrational thought and which influenced which. (these topics were discussed by highly educated individuals, so of course their language was pretty, intricate, and every word dripped with decidedness.) They also mentioned suppression and what we find to be 'acceptable' public display of emotion. (pointing out the acceptance of emotional female expression in society and the discouragement of male.)
I find it fascinating how simply a mood can be influenced by the smallest actions. The writing style of these pricks, for example, makes me feel angry.
Now i wont lose all couthe and flat out insult a group of people like a child, but i will point out the fact that these guys, however intelligent, or understanding and accepting they may be, are still pretentious.
Of course rational thought influences emotion. Of course, an individual who has suffered emotional trauma would shut off conscious feeling, and rule with logic and reasoning (however skewed their reasoning may be is not the issue). The point is, its all thought to control emotion.
duh
My issue is not with the fact that these intellects are discussing the topic, (when i say intellects....im sure a majority of them are doctors, lawyers, professors etc.) but that they treat it with the callousness of a diagnosis, like... a cold or broken finger.
Maybe im a little bitter, but when i wake up in the morning, i have to make a conscious effort to allow myself to feel anger, bitterness, and contempt. Its not a dramatic ploy, its not for attention. It is a staple in my psyche and it pisses me off to hear a group of learned men discuss it with the same detachment that they find crudely fascinating while using harvard mouths to suck each others figurative cocks and patting themselves on the back for being such a godsend to society in discussing the destruction of bias.
Its all relative and its all bullshit.
That is all
Posted by honey bunny at 7:03 AM 0 comments
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Pardon My Lack of Couth...
There's no sweet way to say I'm an asshole. I'm well aware that many will be put off by my extreme nihilism. My only reason for starting a blog is that i will search for stimulation in any form and i get off on deep contemplation. I figure writing to be a form of meditation and a fantastic expression. I'm all for expression, as long as it's well thought.
As an opinionated individual, i also have a conflicting trait which causes me to empathize with any point of view. Not to say there is no better or worse, but better or worse are also relative. I view constantly through every perspective possible, so that i may get a 3dimensional view of every situation. This blog will be mostly unbiased observations of the world around me. A journal, more for myself than anyone.
However, please feel free to comment at any time if you have anything valid to say.

one follower

i see at the side of my blog page there is this mysterious follower who i do not know. i tried clicking on the name and shit but i can't get a solid lead out of it. who are you, nameless and anonymous fan of mine? where do you come from? how did you get to this place, the bottom of the internet well? do you know me? if you do, do you dislike me a little bit? just a bit? like, you may say hi to me in public and give me a nice hello and a handshake, maybe even a hug, but when i leave to aisle you say to your loved one:

"that guy is a fucking prick, he has always been a self serving egotistical monster who thinks he is better then everyone else just because, well, i am not sure why, i am going to college for _____ and all he has done in the past four years is drink and drink and drink and drink and then drink some more. fuck him. actually honey, you should go over to the cheap wine section(where i am sure he is at) and beat the fuck right out of him. thats right, beat that curley hair faggot's ass or this dick/pussy is going under lock and key until Saturday, and its fucking MONDAY. just think about that. i tell you what, one time, he told my ____ that ___ was a stupid ___ in front of my ____ and then later on, ended up fucking my ____ and then __ right inside of my ___ and my dog couldnt ___ for a week."


or you just stumbled upon my site and dug my stuff. either way, i want to know who you are. either way, let me know, you masked fan of doom.

the seedy seeds and life and death

short little story here. two weeks after lindsey had her accident, me and my very best friend went out to see this local and great band called the seedy seeds. they write unique and beautiful pop/indie/dance/folk music.

i am at this bar and waiting for them to go on, drinking quite a bit. i think my friend did something to piss me off so i was zoning out thinking about the horror, the guilt and sadness, guilt because i was here without her, and horror at the whole situation as a whole.

anyway, here i am at this bar, lindsey still in a coma, me drinking because i dont know what else the fuck to do, dread seeping out through my pores. nothing good and nothing hopeful at all.

the seedy seeds are three people. a very cute female lead singer/guitarist/accordian, a crazy mustached banjo player, and a badass drummer who lays it down. the beats are half him and half programmed video games beats.

they come on and start playing and a small wave of comfort splashes over me.

about half way through, they pull out kazoos and dance and kazoo this beautiful melody, and for a short amount of time, maybe 30 seconds or a minute, i understand pure joy. i see it. i see what real and unfiltered happiness and optimism sounds like and looks like. in the midst of the absolute bottom of where i have ever been, i see what real beauty looks like. by some folk disco band. playing fucking kazoos.

i dont understand it. but it happened.

the devil and god are raging inside of me (part three)

(part one and two are years old and floating around the internet somewhere)

when we last left matthew and the devil, they were alone in the woods, as matthew had just gotten dumped by his girlfriend. the devil told him to move on and that he had his mortal soul forever. but that was a different time then, a more innocent time, when getting dumped was all you had to to worry about.

jump ahead 3 years!!!!

matthew is sipping an expresso at the fancy neighborhood coffee shop. he is reading vanity fair and listening to madonna(ironically) on his headphones.

a skinny and blonde male with a trendy hat on and torn skinny jeans walks in. he orders a water and a cinnamon roll. he pays for it and leaves no tip... what a prick...

the man sits across from matthew and stares him down intensely as the blonde man eats his roll.

um... do i know you?

oh yes, you could say that...

ok, have i met you before? why are you sitting here?

oh matty boy, how soon and how easy you forget, i am everywhere, I AM ALWAYS THE ONE WHO SUMMONS THE WAKING DAY....

oh fuck, its you again.

me who? your mortal mind has no concept of my...

your the devil. you came to visit me in my room, and then you fucked with me when i was in the woods.

oh, well, YES I AM LORD LUCIFER, wait, how did you know it was me? i based my disguise off of all of those nerdy art hipster kids you go to see shows with.

i knew it was you because no one else on the planet talks about being the lord of death and talks in those loud crescendos like you do. except, like, college theater people.

ok then, um, how have you been?

well satan, i have been better.

oh yeah?

yeah, i have had a shitty year. my soul mate got fucked up bad, people i knew got blew up in wars, my friends fell apart, Micheal Jackson died.

yeah i knew about the mikey thing. did you know he really didnt fuck those kids?

i didnt think so.

that surprised me! i was totally expecting him to come on down. i had it all planned out, i was going to take the guise of his father and make him...

anyway, 2009 has been a shitty year. i am going to drink it away with a vengeance. by the way, do you time your arrivals it like this?

what do you mean, matthew?

well every time you show up, i am going through a rough spell.

not really. i just get bored. being the devil is pretty fucking boring nowadays. i mean, if you think about it, i pretty much already own everything that needs to be owned. the soul of the modern man, the white house, corporate interests, mainstream movies, mainstream music, reality shows, soccer moms, the innocence of youth, third world countries, democrats, republicans, al gore, billy bush, spencer and heidi, baptists churches, you name it, i already own it. the only thing i havent really been able to get a hold of is blowjobs and trent reznor.

well blowjobs are awesome.

true.

and trent reznor overcame great struggles with addiction and depression and still kept his artistic dignity intact.

very true. we play the downward spiral all the time down in hell. it works great.

so you just get bored and what, you try to earn my soul or something?

fuck no! i already know i have your ass when you die, which will be in 37 years, 3 months, 56 minutes, and 3 seconds.

really?

maybe, i guess we will find out.

oh satan, you are such a kidder.

or am i?

so what the fuck man, where is the next year going to take me?

well, it has to only get better, i mean, thats the law of the universe. things crash down and thing swoop up.

but i dont feel much hope for the future.

well no shit. hope is for hippies and Christians. some Christians anyway.

which ones?

the ones that dont go to church.

oh.

trust me, i am not saying this to cheer you up. sometimes your the fly, and sometimes your the motherfucking windshield.

that was corny.

you make your own path. you decide. you think me and that cocksucker upstairs have anything to do with anything? you assholes are reality television to us. we just sit back and watch you guys kill each other and we keep the scraps. you got to decide where you go and how to do it. we dont give a fuck.

last time you left with more words of encouragement.

well you know what, nostalgia will fuck ya. last time you were crying over your fucking girlfriend, like that was some big and huge existential crisis. awww my gurlfriend wont let me see her big ole titties anymo, awww pity me i am so sad.

that was a long time ago.

and look at your problems now. fuck, i bet you wish you were crying over spilled virginity now.

i dont wish that at all.

my point is the pendulum is always going to keep on swinging. either bitch about it or try to hold on to the train. or fuck, just kill yourself.

thats nice.

FOR WHEN YOU DIE I WILL OWN YOUR BEING IN AN EVERLASTING CHAMBER OF DOOM AND TORTURE.

thank you satan, your always a big help.

who is this brittney murphy bitch?

why?

cuz she showed up down there and i had never seen any of her movies. was she in anything good?

well, sin city...

oh i love that one! mickey rourke is the shit!

mickey rourke is always the shit, satan.

amen to that.

i think she was in clueless.

never seen it.

well, people make it out to be this post modern sort of ironic thing. its really just rich girls being retarded.

oh.

but man, mickey rourke is fucking awesome, we can both agree on that.

things will get better. keep pushing on and making things happen for your self. face despair but dont let it become a blanket. stand in the tide but dont drown in it. be positive but know you are going to lose, and that i always have your noose waiting and ready to go. i gotta split.

where you off to?

iran protesters. muslim extremists are the best thing to happen to me since america started killing nazis. its been busy season since 9/11.

well good luck satan.

yeah you too.

smoking and media and Chelsie Ast.

and god help us all. i was born fucking cranky. i started bitching about light the minute i saw it. so i am not saying that cigarettes cured that, but they did curb my inner curb your enthusiasm. but now i am giving them up. i havent smoked in two in a half days. fuck! it is really not that bad, i have gone days without smoking before, no big deal, but maybe writing about isnt helping because as of right now as i type this sentence i want to smoke one bad. my point is i am pissed off at everything. every little teeny tiny anything i want to fucking KICK IT and then KILL IT and then kick it again.

like right now, tiger woods is on the tv. now the fact be banged 27 porn stars and hookers left and right does not bother me. i dont care who does what to who or when and why. its the fact grown adults spend tv time talking about someones personal shit when there is so many stories that are a little more important.

but i know, how many times have people made that same complaint? i feel like such a defeatist. the fighter in me got gang raped a long time ago, by tiger woods of all people. the media covers stupid shit. real problems like aids and poverty and corporate corruption will always be and will not be covered, and the people that do cover the bullshit on the inter web are so pissed off at the fact that no one is doing anything that they get wrapped up in this che inspired rhetoric and sound like a fucking nut case. WE WILL DESTROY THE GOVERNMENT FROM THE INSIDE AND BRING IT BACK TO THE PEOPLE! THEY PLANNED 911! GLEN BECK IS AN IDIOT!

and the really smart sensible people just turn into apathy. fuck it, its all a lost cause anyway, let the fish eat the other fish and i am going to enjoy my drinks and my casual sex and the things that make me happy. and really, it is hard not to go into that line of thinking. that is probably the one i am closest to. but my problem is every once in a while i will get sucked into something like health care or I'll read something that some corporation did and it will piss me off and i will want to do something about it.

like smoke a fucking cigarette.

the thing i love more then anything is when the weather is freezing cold and you are you with your loved one and she smells so good in the cold cold weather and you hold her hand and, well fuck, i dont know, i like girls in cold weather.

like smoking a fucking cigerette.

there was this girl and her name was Chelsie Ast. she lived in my town when she was very young. she did not get along with many people, but she did have quite a few friends. she had a rough time in elementary school. when she was 12 years old her mom died of a rare blood disease. she lived alone with her mom in a shitty apartment on front street that i am sure she shared with a cloud of crack and weed smoke. i went in there once and her mom was in the living room, sitting there and looking sick and lost.

when her mom died she lived with her grandparents for a little while, but i dont think they could handle her. she was starting to act out a little bit, get into some drugs and some odd people. eventually her grandparents passed her off to live with her asshole redneck dad who had abandoned her when she was a little kid. she moved from Ohio to the bottom of Florida to the nothingness of Tennessee where her dad lived. i do not know all of the details but i have a couple letters she sent me and it sounded like her dad was just a drunk careless asshole who could give three fucks about Chelsie. she started cutting herself and got kicked out of two schools in under a year.

three years after she left she came back to town to visit a couple people. she came over to my house when no one was there and we had crazy and hot sex on the floor of my bedroom. she was the second women i had sex with it. it was sweary and she screamed and it felt really good. we hung out for a while naked and her grandparents came and she threw her clothes on and kissed me and i never saw her again. this was probably the summer of 2003.

a lot happened in between then and now and i fell out of touch with her, although i thought about her every once in a while. last sunday i realized that i could look her up on facebook and see what she was up to, see if she was ok. i had a tiny feeling in my head that something bad had happened to her. i type in her name on facebook and nothing comes up. i got to myspace and nothing comes up.

so i type her name google and the first article is an old article from a local newspaper. the article was about teens going to a summer camp to deal with grief. she was the main kid they talked to. she was 12, right after her mothers death. in the article they all stood around a bonfire and held letters and gifts from their dead parents or dead sisters or brothers. lost and sad kids who are ruined forever standing around fire holding relics of things they want back more then anything. i read it and picture her standing there.

the second hit was a list of dead social security numbers. i guess when you die they list off your number. i click it and it says Chelsie Ast, 1988-2004, buried in Tennessee, Death Notice from Ohio. she died the march after i saw her. there is no obituary any where on the internet and no articles about how she died.

from the beginning this girl was giving nothing but a shit deal. and most people won't remember her. she was sweet and kind but troubled, and no one was there for her. i wasn't. i cared about her but i was a young a pussy obsessed teenager, and she was another notch on the belt at the time. survivors guilt? not that much. she was destined for something bad to happen to her, but maybe i could of done something a little bit more then just fuck her.

now Chelsie haunts me every day.

i need a fucking cigarette.

my favorite albums(from the facebooks)

i do this every year but this is the first time i have done it on the face book/my writing site, so here it goes, my favorite shit that came out this year

lets start with music! here are my five favorite albums this year. i could prolly do ten, but who has time for that bullshit???

5. Tegan and Sara-Sainthood: the chorus of the first song "Arrow" is the catchiest melody of the past 12 months. these chicks write tight, short, workman like pop songs with vague but not too pretentious lyrics. their last two albums were just as killer, so i think these girlies win the whole twin sister lesbian indie rock goddess award. i know its a tight race, no pun intended. my favorites are On Directing, Arrow, Alligator Tears.

4. Pomegranates- Everybody! Come Outside!: the seedy seeds would be like number one or two on the list but i think their album Count the Days came out in 2008, and that would be cheating. but i think i love this album better anyway. these are some local Cincinnati boys who are just amazing musicians. they put on a great live show and the two vocalist really balance each other out great. also their drummer is one of my favorite drummers beating it up nowadays. the album is supposed to be a concept album about ufos and time travel. i fucking love these guys. My favorites are Beachcomber, Tesseract, and the best song they have ever done, Jerusalem Had a Bad Day.

3. Sunset Rubdown-Dragonslayer: Spencer Krug is no doubt my favorite musician working. i love Wolf Parade like a daughter but for some reason his solo band is more close to the gut. their 2007 Random Spirit Lover is one of the all time best most epic albums, and if that came out this year it would be number one. The song Silver Moons is the best song ever about being too old to party like you used to and thinking about holding your ex-girlfriends hand outside of the school bonfire when you were 16. my favorites are Silver Moons and You Go on Ahead(Trumpet Trumpet Trumpet Part two).

2. Grizzly Bear-Veckatmist: i will always love this album because every harmony and jazzy scale will always remind me of Lindsey. there is something so easy, smooth, yet haunting and sad about this album that i can't help but think about her every time i hear the ending of Ready,Able. seeing them at bonnaroo was one of my highlights of the summer. on a side note: their guitar player is no shit awesome. he uses these guitars from the 40s and 50s, slaps heavy ass strings on them and uses these jazz chords, but strums it in such a way it sounds like a ton of pretty bricks made of rainbows slamming down. and ed droste has the best voice besides Panda Bear. favorites: Cheerleader, Southern Point, Ready, Able.

1. Animal Collective-Merriweather Post Pavilion: duh. this is the new classic. i am not going to rant and rave for hours about this album, but fuck it is great. i still listen to every song and i am never sick of it. their EP Fall Be Kind is just as good. for someone like me who has been down these guys since Feels and Sung Tongs, it makes me happy that they got so much praise and acclaim. i dont know what else to say, i love these guys. favorites: BrotherSport, My GIrls, Daily Routine, Taste, the whole fucking album.

other shit that came out that was awesome: Neko Case, Dirty Projectors, frontiers of folk nebraska, silversun pickups, mos def, the flaming lips, St. VIncent, atlas sounds.

man there really wasnt a whole lot of good movies this year. i havent seen avatar yet, so who knows, but now that i think about it, i am not sure if i saw five movies that came out this year that were great. hmm...Moon was great, Star Trek..

actually Star Trek was my favorite movie this year. there im done.

here are the best t.v shows this year:

Mad Men, season Three.
BEST SHOW EVER OMG LIKE LOL.

Jon Hamm is the new James Gandolfini. there i said it. Christina Hendricks is the most attrative chick on t.v. the writing is smart and deep. its a good show trust me.

lets hope next year is better.

Part One

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