Sitting outside tonight as the evening light dissipates and the night descends upon us... learning quite a lot.
Ostara has passed and the Spring has arrived, but it is still that time of transition, when the leaves and flowers have yet to bloom. The birds have yet to arrive, and the Earth has yet to truly awaken from its self-imposed slumber.
The branches of the trees have nothing on them besides more branches, maybe a few shoots. Looking at this as the light goes into hiding for the night, it is plain to see why so many metal bands' logos are adorned with dead trees. Sure, its representative of coldness, of death and isolation and sorrow and misanthropy and all that is grim. I get that. But there's more to it, and I think I'm just finally seeing this tonight...
There is a certain poetry in the spaces between - a majesty of letters, words, sounds and movements. It's somewhat disturbing that I've never seen this in earnest until now, but that's not really important. And it's difficult, in seeing this, to think that what I've seen has not had some impact on metal logos, and even on metal itself. That poetry has played a part, and a bigger part than a lot of people would care to admit too...
Some morons who are too concerned with being trve and kvlt will cast this aside and claim that there is no poetry in trve metal... metal is anti-poetry. But that misses something that could not be more clear... to me at least.
I'm tempted to say that I'm over-intellectualizing this, but this isn't coming from an intellectual place. This is pure perception, witnessing of spirit...
Silence, stillness, even peace...
Nechochwen plays and I am in a very good place.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Gaining all the attention in the local news this week has been the WRONGFUL death of Dave Park, someone that everyone at this gym knew and loved, because he was a kind, generous and gentle soul.
Apparently, he and his wife Deanna were in Buffalo for a friend's Baby Shower... Dave had a few drinks and accidentally wandered into the wrong house. The homeowner didn't care for that, so after warning Dave that he had a weapon, he SHOT him.
BANG. ONE FUCKING SHOT AND DAVE'S LIFE IS OVER.
It comes out yesterday, by this motherfucker's own admission, that the door was NOT LOCKED. His lawyer has the fucking balls to claim that this fact changes nothing regarding the homeowner's right to defend himself and his family (from someone, I might add, that poses no fucking threat).
Okay, maybe it changes nothing in the eyes of the law, but you know what? Fuck you, man. Fuck you so fucking hard, you piece of shit. You want to protect your family? Good, I understand. Lock the fucking door. Problem solved. Instead, the thought process could only be, "Well, I haven't locked the door, but if someone comes in that doesn't belong here, I'll just shoot him."
Fuck you, idiot. Go to fucking hell. I don't care what the law fucking says, because the fact that your door was open at 1 in the morning changes everything. You lock your door and Dave is still alive, Deanna isn't trying to pick her life up and move on without her husband of one fucking year, and none of us here are walking around trying to make sense of something that is so senseless.
Goodbye David Park. You are forever in our thoughts and hearts.
Posted by Krumbled Kookie at 10:31 AM