The Melvins are better than shit. So much better than shit that I can't stop listening to or liking them. They came before so much shit that is not is good as they will forever be. To describe their sound: seven trucks full of shit crash into a wall made of shit and it explodes into the most oppressive shit you have ever shat. Like, fuck all, I love them.
Find their things and listen.
I would also, for no real related reason recommend The Locust's Safety Second, Body Last, and the Coalesce and boysetsfire split if only for Vehicle.
20 January 2010
19 January 2010
I use this because it is free!
I know the FBI will see this...someday. Man, I sound like a serial killer when I say that. I'm not. I swear that the only thing I ever killed was my own idea-ology. Massacred that. Sailor's without ships aren't really much of themselves. Defined only by their hats or coats, right? I do nothing, and only nothing. I dream of doing everything. This culture of consumption is killing everything that we love. Not only that, but it is keeping us from creating anything. Our self-expression and individuality are all purchased and broadcast to us free of charge everyday. Pick it up or lose it. Pay attention if you're not seeing it. I am. I'm trying to stop it, and myself.
You'll see. Eventually.
You'll see. Eventually.
Labels:wat?
do as I asked you nicely,
found object,
motion sensor,
painting,
schizoid,
traffic
10 January 2010
17 November 2009
My hands are not my words.
The woods are full of garbage. I don't get it. Why do all the houses in my neighborhood look like no one lives there... And, yet the surrounding woods look like people have been weekending there for the last year!? The lawns are brown and unshorn; the blinds in the windows are drawn. The driveway is empty with the cars, I assume locked away inside. I bet they are full of shit though... Tvs, computers, Michelina's frozen dinner boxes spilling over the trash can next to a sink full of dirty dishes. There probably isn't anyone home, though. They are at work, where they stay a good eight hours a day so they can afford those tvs and frozen boxes full of shit that is barely food. Regardless, my point is, if your house if full of garbage and shit you don't need then why are the woods? You don't own the woods. You have no right to put your shit there. Your old tvs, dressers, tires, frozen shit-food boxes... They don't belong there. Put it in your shitty yard. Not in my secret druid pond! In fact! You know who owns that pond full of shit, and those woods? Some real estate company. It's zoned industrial! Priced to sell, I bet...
basfkdnaskdjfg
Music is the same as books. Science is the same as God. We own nothing. I am on the internet too much. Boycott Wal-Mart. Shop at Publix... I don't care, just do something. I will see the woods and crickets tomorrow hopefully. But, not you. I'll need new lips soon. Maybe I'll get scars instead.
Remember, I am a sociopath.
Remember, I am a sociopath.
09 November 2009
UMMA DROOD.

Today I found a pond in the woods. Thanks to google earth that is... I am not sure I trust such an innovation... Maybe that is because I am paranoid, or that I have a certain fondness for the thrill of exploration. Not much compares to stomping through the woods, hacking at the bush, climbing trees to get a better view of the world under your feet and heading off in the most interesting looking direction... Next time I use the Robots as a guideline.
The pond was disgusting, by the way. It was black and frothy, and full of bugs. There was a chair sunken in it, the remnants of a boat and other many tiny pieces of pollutants. I want to clean it up. Who wants to help?
Also, for my own personal agenda, listen King Crimson's album In The Wake of Poseidon.
08 November 2009
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