Land of Some Other Order

No Way I Should Be Posting This Online...

2011-10-09T23:39:00.002-04:00

I've been beating myself up for weeks trying to figure out what's going on, but I'm getting nowhere. All I feel is confused and alone. I want to know who I am now that I'm obsessed, and more so, I want to know who you are, deep inside that shell. What I see on the outside is beautiful and just absolutely stunning and amazing and about a thousand other adjectives that do no justice; you have affected me in a way that I have not felt in ages, it seems. God damn, I'm affected.

I know it doesn't matter, it hardly ever does.

You walked past me two days ago and your arm brushed mine, and the hair on my neck has been standing on end ever since. It was an insane feeling, because even though I know in my mind it can never be, my heart feels something else. My heart raced, it felt alive. You had room to get past me without touching me... I know it meant nothing, it had no purpose, but maybe you know how I feel, and you sensed that I needed that touch to bring me back to center. Maybe. Probably not. No.

You floor me. You walk in the room and nothing else matters. You walk out of the room and daylight dies, all is blackened and hopeless, but somehow it's all still beautiful simply because you were once here.

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that none of this is ever going to matter, so why is this idiot wasting his time being pathetic for you and indulging all these stupid fantasies. Get over it, you're telling me. Stop thinking about it, it's a dead end.

I guess you're probably right. I guess there's really nothing to make sense of. I'm over here, and you're over there, and there are about a billion things between us that I'd have to run through or around, just to get to you. Just to tell you how I feel. Just to have you laugh at me. Just to have you shoot me down, to kill me dead. Like I said, I know it doesn't matter.

But if just for a second, I could see you totally unhinged, totally alive and out of control with the fire in your heart, it might all be worth it. It might be worth losing everything. Because I know it's in you, I know it burns bright, and I can't control my desire to want to touch it. To taste your lips just once... oh, god damn, to feel that abandon, that breathlessness...oh my god, I can't control...

Every time I see you, part of me screams. Every time I smell you, part of me floats away. Every time you laugh, I want to tell myself this is all just some demonic fucking nightmare, because it's torture... a torture I can't get enough of, a torture I beg for more of.

Every time I hear your voice, part of me dies. Over and over again. And god do I want to die a thousand times tonight.

I've tried so hard to find a way that's not there. I've asked friends what the hell on Earth I'm going to do. They don't know. There are no answers to the questions I ask; it's all just a self-indulgent blues jam. But I keep coming back, just for the way you slay me. Because you do. Without ever knowing it, you've slayed me a million times.

It's probably going to get worse before it gets better. I don't know. I just don't fucking know. I don't know what to do next, I don't know what to think, what to feel, what to hold onto or what to let the fuck go of. I don't know why I can't reach you...

All I know is that I'm over here and you're over there. And that it doesn't matter...

...right?

An Encounter With the Feral Inspires a Message to Civilization.

2011-09-24T19:59:00.000-04:00

You're going to think that I'm crazy. You're going to say that my eyes deceive me, that my mind was playing tricks on me. But I know what my eyes saw, if only for a few seconds...

Driving through the suburb of North Greenbush today, 4 North American Grey Wolves ran across the road in front of my car (only 15 feet or so in front of me) into a dense wooded area. It is possible that they were coyotes, I suppose - I guess I must concede that. But I really think these were wolves. I've seen coyotes up close before, and never felt like this. I have been possessed by an incredibly primal, feral energy since I saw them - one that I've never felt before.

There is something inside of me now that is wild and unrestrained. These words ultimately fail to accurately describe what this is burning inside me, but I suspect the words for this don't exist. If they do, I don't know them. My spirit is possessed by that which is feral, animal... I am the embodiment of unrepentant love and unfulfilled hunger...

From that, I get this:

Your walls cannot hold or restrain me. Your power can quell neither my spirit nor my voice. Your machines cannot tame me. Your disease, your sickness - your psychosis - cannot break me down. Your will can oppress me no longer.

I am the animal-man. I am the spirit of the feral and I will fear you no longer. Continue to push me, and I will destroy you.

Osama bin Laden as Teacher

2011-05-05T13:05:00.003-04:00

Osama bin Laden is now dead, according to the always-trustworthy US government/military. Well, let's now sing the fucking praises of the military and our wonderful country.

GOD BLESS AMERICA!
LAND OF THE FREE, HOME OF THE BRAVE!!
IN GOD WE TRUST, because GOD LOVES WAR!!!

The irrational and fanatical jingoism and false patriotism have been running rampant since the president confirmed that bin Laden was killed on Sunday, and it has just confirmed to me that our country is more fucked up than anyone really thinks. Yeah, the economy is bad; people are without jobs, without health care, without hope. But that's not even a half of it. The biggest problem here, as with anywhere, is how stupid and easily swayed by governmental propaganda these fucking people are.

Bin Laden is dead and we're fucking celebrating in the streets. 'An Obama victory! No, an American victory. A victory for the war on terror, and a victory for FREEDOM!!!'

Forget the fact that the raid on bin Laden's compound was a direct violation of Pakistan's national sovereignty. 'Those damned sand-niggers knew he was there! We should invade Pakistan now and teach them towelheads a lesson.'

Forget the fact that bin Laden should have been captured and taken before the International Criminal Court, and given an honest trial for his crimes. 'Motherfucker got what he deserved, Obama finally did the right thing. Can't call him soft on terrorism now!'

I get it. Bin Laden was responsible for the deaths of many people. But we STILL haven't heard the other side of the story. 'We heard his side. He screamed death to America, and wanted us all dead. End of story.'
Well, no, not really. That's only the end of the story for the feeble-minded. Yeah, he wanted to destroy America. But has anyone taken a second to listen to WHY he wanted to destroy America?Sadly, no.

Bin Laden may have been motivated in part by a perversion of Islamic doctrine. But he was also motivated by logic and reason. He and his people have watched as American military bases have become just part of the landscape of the Middle East, and really, of the whole world (especially in the third world). He has watched thousands of his own people die at the hands of America and its terrorist foreign policy. 9/11 was horrible, but guess what? It happens in the third world, and particularly in the Middle East (and even more particularly, in the occupied Palestinian territories) all the time. Innocent people have their lives destroyed everyday in Palestine, where the US-supported and -funded Israeli regime(s) continues to violate international law (and common sense and compassion) and encroach upon Palestinian territory with their settlements. What the US did in Fallujah was so obvious a terrorist attack that it can't even be comprehended by the mind... we go in, expel everyone except the military-age males, and level the city. Bin Laden had every right to fight back. I'm not sure I agree with his methods, but fuck, if I lived over there, I'd be strapping the bomb to my chest too.

'We're the damned U.S. of A. We can do what we want, we're the world's only superpower. We've got the moral high-ground, we're the only country with the power to stop terrorism and to bring these suspect regimes to justice.'

Actually... no. Not even close. We forfeited the moral high-ground long ago. If you want to stop terrorism, stop engaging in it. The US created bin Laden. When he died, he actually did meet his maker. He may be dead now, but there are more where he came from. A lot more. What the fuck is it gonna take to make people realize this? It's fucking fact.

Maybe we need another 9/11. Fuck maybe we need 3, 4... 10 more, to make people stop in their tracks and re-evaluate, to make people think "What the hell are we doing wrong." They don't hate us because of our freedoms. They hate us for what we've done.

'Fuck that, I'm proud to be an American.'

Good for you, knuckle-dragger - when you die you can be buried in your wooden box with a flag wrapped around it. I hope it feels good. I'm not proud to be an American; in fact, I've never been more ashamed. You see, I have this ability to think reasonably and rationally; you apparently do not.

Look in the mirror, America. Look hard and long, because until you change your ways, the cycle continues. Stop these fucking illegal and unjust wars. Stop spreading your fucked up consumerist, capitalist, corporatist ideology. Get your boot off the throat of the third world.

Maybe then we can stop living in a culture of fear.

Until the Light Takes Me

2011-01-30T22:13:00.001-05:00

I watched the black metal documentary Until the Light Takes Us last night, and I was captivated, absolutely stuck the the screen from the first second. Fenriz is an interesting enough guy; he's certainly seen a lot and been through a lot, both inside the black metal "scene" and out, but I was (not surprisingly) more interested in Burzum's Varg Vikernes. The first thing that struck me about him was the passion and intensity that he spoke with. I found him to be very intelligent, articulate and even friendly. This shouldn't really be a shock, I guess; no one has ever really contended that he's stupid. It has been contended that he's maniacal, though, but I found that to be very far from the truth. Indeed, it's a limited window into his life and thought that we get to see, but I didn't even see a glimmer of the psychopathic tendencies that he supposedly harbors. You can often see that in someone's eyes, especially when they're as insane as many have portrayed Varg to be.

Vikernes has often been portrayed as a racist nazi-sympathizer or even a neo-nazi, and granted, this perception is something he is mostly responsible for. But it's also wholly inaccurate, at least in my final analysis. He may harbor some supremacist views, and if that is the case, that is deplorable. But I can't really find any direct evidence of that. Two things are for sure: 1) he holds a positive view of his and his ancestors' (PAGAN) blood, religion, race, and culture, and 2) he holds an entirely negative view of Christianity and the Judeo-Christian culture.

Indeed, everything else seems to spring from the latter. He talks, in the film, of the church burning which he was imprisoned for, and in my very honest opinion, totally justifies said action. Varg essentially says (I'm obviously paraphrasing, here): 'Christian civilization destroyed the ancient Pagan culture that was located right here on this land. It also destroyed ancient cultures in Africa, Asia, North America... To destroy its churches is my way of striking back, and I won't apologize for it.' What's striking here is the fact that Varg expresses empathy for the African, Asian, and Native American ways of life that were also taken by Christianity.

Black metal kiddies praise what Varg did because its so obviously kvlt. But fuck that. He didn't do it to gain kvlt points; he did it, as I said, to strike back a blow against the culture that destroyed an entire way of life for the glorification of its bastard god and prophet. I've personally never held any love or respect for Christianity, and my research over the years has led me to precisely the same condemnation as Varg. If you want to believe in and worship that god, fine. Whatever works for you. But the civilization created in your god's name has destroyed many peoples, many ways of life, and for that there is no justification. No salvation. No forgiveness.

Whatever your opinion of the church burning, or of Varg Vikernes himself, there is no denying that what he did was highly profound. I can only hope that when my life is over, I can look back on it and see something as poignant as that.

Victory

2010-08-29T21:29:00.002-04:00

It occurred to me today that it's probably time for humanity to stand up and declare it's victory over nature. It's hit me before, on an intellectual level, that there is no reversing what we've done. But today, on a more emotional, intuitive level, I realized just what that means.

What was once the pillar of humanity's elegance has fallen. Instead of community working in concert with nature, we have Home Depot. Instead of rains falling to feed the Earth, we have dying oceans and crumbling ecosystems. Instead of newborns suckling their mothers, we have BPA-free plastic bottles.

Well, there's no BPA, so this plastic is ok! It won't kill your child directly, but it will destroy the planet! No problem!!!

It's universally accepted by astronomers that the planet is supposed to be in the midst of a cooling cycle, on the way toward another ice age, perhaps. But somehow, the planet is getting hotter. If that is not enough to convince us that we're royally screwed the pooch, then I don't know what will.

I was overcome by a profound sadness; not depression, but sublime, intense sadness for what we've managed to destroy in roughly 200,000 years. It's tough to believe, and tougher to accept, but I think that people are starting to become familiar with the idea of collapse, and just what it means. We've no choice.

What I have to focus on is getting past this compulsion to punch everyone I see in the face. That's probably not healthy.

Degradation

2010-08-15T01:53:00.003-04:00

Sometimes it just baffles me how badly wrong we can be. People get so hung up on stupid separators like nationality, race, religion, blah blah blah. So some Muslims want to build a Community Center near "Ground Zero."

People say they oppose this because it's an insult to the fallen.

I think people have just forgotten what the word COMMUNITY means... or perhaps they never knew. I myself forget that we are born into a world where there is no community. The ways of nature have been removed from our collective consciousness. I had an interesting talk with Tricia a couple of weeks ago about how different humanity looks now, in terms of evolution, when compared to itself before the advent of surplus agriculture. She said that the differences would be negligible, but I don't think I can agree with that. Because something is clearly fucked up; the world is burning down, and we set the fire and continue to fan the flames. We've changed; we seem to be born with an innate acceptance of civilization, and an uncanny ability to tune out the destruction and devastation that it wreaks upon the natural world. We think that "humanity" and "nature" are opposed.

Maybe for good reason, I suppose. Maybe humans really aren't a part of nature anymore. Maybe we've let ourselves go.

Fuck ground zero. It's better where it is. I'm sorry those people died, and when I say "those people," I mean the people that were in the buildings as well as those that flew the planes. Ward Churchill was right in a sense, that chickens were coming home to roost. But they weren't America's chickens. They were civilization's chickens.

And it was likely only the beginning.

34

2010-05-10T22:49:00.004-04:00

So I turned 34 today and looking back at my life so far, I feel like I haven't done shit. I don't need to "have" anything to show for my 34 years; that misses the point, because I've got my two beautiful kids, along with a third on the way, and I'm pretty damn proud of them. But what the fuck am I doing? What the fuck have I done? I've lived roughly half of my life, if I make it to the average American male expectancy, and I haven't done much.

Not sure what I'm looking for here, but I can't look back without acknowledging some tremendous mistakes, as well as a few moments of sublime clarity.

I live a fairly good life I guess, but considering it's half over, it doesn't feel like enough. And the worst part is that I don't know what to do differently.

Weather the storm, ride it out. Blah blah fucking blah. Slow transcending agony.

Silence and Majesty Between the Trees

2010-04-12T19:54:00.005-04:00

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.

Goodbye Dave Park

2010-04-02T10:31:00.004-04:00

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.

Wild

2010-02-27T00:58:00.004-05:00

People have been going for days about the fact that Tilikum the killer whale (not a whale, for the record - orcas are dolphins) went off and killed this woman at Sea World. 'What would cause this animal to do this?' they say.

Really? Are you fucking kidding me?

It's a fucking wild animal. Sure, it's trained and all that shit, but it's still WILD. Think about it like this - human beings are the MOST domesticated animals on the planet, and we still flip out and get crazy all the time. Civilization can not take all The Wild out of any animal, humans included.

Those beautiful dolphins have no place in giant tanks in Sea World, jumping through hoops or whatever for our fucking entertainment. And we have NO right getting all indignant and surprised that this happens. It should happen more often - it gives me some small bit of hope that humanity will learn a lesson, and that maybe we can return to the path we once walked.

People that think that Tilikum should be "put down" ought to seriously consider why that's the case, because there is not one good argument for that proposal.

The Road

2010-01-21T10:36:00.004-05:00

I finally got to see "The Road." As expected, it was an awe-inspiring piece of cinematic brilliance. I knew that it was not a happy go lucky comedy, but it was quite possibly the saddest, bleakest movie I've ever seen, and I've seen quite a few. The colors that dominate the film are grey and black; the sun is gone for all intents and purposes - this is not surprising for a post-apocalyptic tale of survival, but in my opinion, there is no way to prepare yourself for the sympathy and sadness this can produce if all else is done well. And in this movie, everything is just about perfect.

Get off of your ass and go see this film while you still can; and yes, there is more than sadness to be witnessed here - the underlying theme is one of unconditional love, hope, and struggle in the face of literally insurmountable odds.

What I must now do is get to reading the book.

Meals

2010-01-18T23:23:00.002-05:00

"What's for dinner?" he said.

"Fear," she replied.

"Well, then what's for dessert?"

"A healthy serving of escapism."

He ate. He said, "This isn't going down so well - what's causing all this indigestion?"

"The belief," she said, "that you can follow one with the other and somehow survive."

Panopticon interview

2010-01-17T21:28:00.002-05:00

My interview with Panopticon's Austin Lundr is posted over at Hammer Smashed Sound.

Fear and Longing

2010-01-13T22:01:00.005-05:00

Someone hacked into my Paypal account and paid 55 Euros (of my money) to a German online gaming service... or some such shit. Luckily, I caught it as it happened and was able to protect myself and my fragile, feeble financial assets from further harm... I hope. As it happened I immediately went into panic mode, which is not usually a productive place for me to be, but today it worked, and I guess there's no arguing with results.

I'd like to say that it's out of my mind; I'll get my 81 dollars back when PayPal's investigation is complete and they realize that I never authorized such a transaction. It's not out of my mind though; fear lingers, and I wonder how vulnerable myself and my family are to such intrusions.

Thankfully, though, my copy of Fauna's "The Hunt" CD arrived in the mail today, and I think it's about time for me to crack a beer and drift away into a spiritual realm of enormously moving blackmetal... that always makes me long for Minnewaska. Keep telling myself I can wait for Tuesday, but I always long for Gertrude's Nose, especially in Winter... my spiritual home to which I shall return once again.

I might also mention, though, that I'm apparently taking this semester off from grad school. There are positive and negative ramifications for this maneuver, but I think in the grand scheme this should prove to be a wise move. I'm going to spend the time enjoying my wee ones, reconnecting and communing with nature, and working on some other ventures that for now will remain hush-hush.

What will not remain hush-hush is my excitement for this. Will surely be awesome, and now that I won't be taking any classes for a while, I can train for this monumental day. I wish I wasn't so psyched for it, but honestly, I can't wait.

Winter Clarity...

2010-01-02T02:12:00.005-05:00

Walking through the fresh fallen snows tonight, with Paysage d'Hiver as a trusted companion, a lot of things began to make a fair amount of sense. That, or things became infinitely muddier...

I admit to harboring fairly misanthropic tendencies, and to being highly cynical at times; I don't feel particularly comfortable around people I don't know; most nights, I'd rather stay in than go out and actually do something, unless that "something" is going to a show; as a general rule, I don't trust people, even when I know I should; and finally, as I watch humanity destroy all that is sacred to me, I am deeply doubtful that we (as in the human race) will be able to "return" to our roots, to nature. I want to believe it, and I even see and feel hints in the air that suggest that it may not be too late to save ourselves and our planet from an untimely demise... I want to, so badly, but it's more than difficult - it seems to betray my better judgment.

Somehow, though, I also believe strongly in the redemptive capacities of man; we are animals after all, and while some might claim that placing "redemptive capacities" in the realm of animal characteristics is overstepping the boundaries of human knowledge, foresight, and consciousness, I know better. I've seen it with my own three eyes more times than can be accurately counted. I'm centered enough to know - to remember - that anything with the tiniest degree of self-consciousness has the moral capacity to be redeemed.

Perhaps my mind is clear because the Winter season is finally upon us; anyone who knows me knows that I am fully alive and at the height of my being in the Winter. Sure, I'm prone to depression, but not in the Winter, as many sadly are. There is simply too much beauty to feel sad now. The fresh coldness of the air is sweet upon my tongue, the snow soothing and reassuring to my spirit, the bitter winds a sometimes harsh reminder that no matter what we have to endure on daily basis, we are alive, and in our selves and our souls we are free. In that freedom we are kind, giving, and essentially good, and while I may not always choose to remember that, there is something to be said for plastering that on the filthy walls of civilization in order to remind our brethren that there is no need to dominate and destroy the sacredness of the natural world that we inhabit. We need only touch our inner being, in concert with a oneness with Life, to see that we, in our actions but not necessarily our selves, have gone wrong. If we simply look around and act upon our spiritual instincts, we can find our way once again.

Something tells me that we are doomed, but the more people perceive this impending doom, the greater the potential for redemption and salvation. I don't need some bankrupt belief in god to tell me that.

On this Veterans' Day...

2009-11-11T00:46:00.004-05:00

... I offer up the salient lyrics of Dystopia's "Jarhead Fertilizer," not to offend, not to be purposely caustic and incendiary, but to try and prod you to reflect on this: From where do we get the fucked up notion that veterans have made some noble sacrifice in serving their country? Are they serving for us? Or for the rich fucks that send them to murder women and children and round up more blood money? If more people understood the TRUTH, the American military, and in turn the American Empire, would crumble to pieces in front of our fucking faces.

Happy Fucking Veterans' Day.

"Education stable career
Join the army
Become a murderer
Kill for god and country
Return to be a hero
To tell you the truth
I hope you don't come back

Courage
It takes a big man to push a button
Fight with your honor
Like shooting children
and cutting their parents throats
Go to the frontline
Watch your friends
Get cooked by napalm...
...and they're murderers just like you
Getting education by killing people too
Bodies blown apart
You feel a sharp pain in your stomach
Now you've lost both of your legs to a grenade
Blood and vomit spew from your mouth
No career education
And you're sent home in a doggy bag

Waste your life
While taking others lives away from them
Left so empty
Just a pile of shit to me...
...And your parents looking stupid
Their son reduced to a pile of shit and dog tags
But he did what he was programmed to do

Such a good soldier.

...I hope you're fucking proud of your son...
Fuck your son I hope he fucking dies..."

Depression and Piggy Flu

2009-10-27T20:13:00.003-04:00

The initial consultation with the psychologist was today, and once I got over the nervousness, I think it went pretty well. She seems very good, and what's more, she seems to genuinely care.

It was bizarre for me to hear someone essentially say, "With everything you're telling me, your heart should ache." Probably true, but hard to acknowledge nonetheless. I've had a facade up for so long, it was about time it started to crumble.

Next week, Monday at 3.

Progress... perhaps.

And people are getting all freaked the fuck out about swine flu, or H1N1... of the 1200 kids in the Bethlehem elementary school, more than 600 were out sick last Friday with flu symptoms that hospitals can't and won't treat. "Go home and drink plenty of fluids," they say. Well yeah, no shit. Seriously, what are people expecting from doctors right now? I had to tell a fucking woman earlier this evening that I was sniffling because I had been crying, and not because I have swine flu.

Some good advice to anyone freaking out about piggy flu right now - Do two damn things: 1) Sit the fuck down, and 2) shut the fuck up. Kaythanks!

The Last Man

2009-10-08T13:13:00.003-04:00

There is something about being the only person walking on the grass, across the common, every day at school, while others choose to walk on the pavement - on the disgusting, unnecessary and worthless pavement - that makes me feel like the Last Man, and that the rest of these fucking fools are industrial machines on their ways to get fitted with new bearings or whatever.

Yet here I sit with my laptop, handheld PDA, and mp3 player (no advertisement of brand names necessary). I've got my gear and I'd hate to part with it.

I've got tar on my feet... worms are crawling out of my skin.

I choose to feel the ground beneath my feet, to walk amongst the trees - not the tall buildings of this false academia, the so-called ivory towers - because with those strategically placed yet somehow still majestic trees I find camaraderie. With the majority of my classmates, I sometimes feel a sickening revulsion. I like them well enough, and converse and even sometimes spend time with them, but I can't help but hate them and all that they want. Because they're just like me. Fucking just like me.

Pursuing An Impossible

2009-08-04T14:19:00.007-04:00

How do I possibly live with myself? How do I get up out of bed everyday, somehow content with what I have become?

I fall in line everyday. Actually, I fell in line long ago, and continue to go through the daily drill of lather-rinse-repeat, to somehow make myself a more acceptable person - an acceptable student, worker, husband, father - all the while disgusting myself with the things that I do, which often contradict the things that I believe - nay, that I KNOW - to be true.

I could take the usual short cut and blame society. Society is, of course, fucked up beyond belief. Literally beyond belief. People that are genuinely good, with good hearts, good intentions, and good actions, become corrupted by the society which the elders have allowed to come into existence - which the elders indeed created. There is no reality in this society, this unsustainable pile of unbridled consumerism, wreckage and despair, and there is no reality left in our lives.

I throw stones at that which I partake in. Oftentimes gladly.

Simpler people should have and would have thought this impossible, that we could somehow destroy everything good and sacred and replace it with materialist nonsense. But alas, we achieve the horrifyingly impossible everyday, going down new avenues of the grotesque and deplorable.

There are, of course, other options. I could just as easily choose to destroy society, but I refrain, because I don't think that would achieve the desire of returning to the sacred simplicity of former times. There must be some way to get to that, because it exists in our minds - and not as forced delusion. But at this point I am not aware of a path that would lead back to that.

That is sort of what my life is turning into - a quest, or a journey through the depths of pain, disappointment, loss, and despair, hopefully to arrive at another path that will bring us back to something else - not something that it simply more aesthetically and materially pleasing to the 6 senses, but something entirely fucking livable, in all four dimensions.

Perhaps I wear the disguise to conceal what I know to be my true purpose; perhaps I wear it to evade that purpose. Perhaps I'm entirely full of shit.

We achieve the impossible everyday. It is high time to start erasing imaginary lines, to pursue a different,purer impossible - a headless impossible. One that we conform to, not one that conforms to us. One in which we are not front and center, we are not on the periphery - we just are. It exists in the mind, and once it arrives it will be necessarily headless - out of the mind and into the hands of a world that accepts it and experiences it and the richness of spirit that it is composed of.

These are not easy things to understand, given the brutal context of our lives. But they are necessary and essential in every practical and reasonable sense; do what you must to understand. Don't take my word for it - because seriously, who the fuck am I? Mess with your head. Indulge in illicit chemicals if you must - I did not, but some require it. In short, do whatever it takes to expand the parameters of your consciousness to include the impossible and unimaginable, because therein lies the heart of darkness.

Let's go digging.

2009-07-04T22:40:00.003-04:00

"Those who engage in Western left-hand path sex-magick, the rituals of Thelema and various other mental techniques designed to bring the operator into contact with a superconscious reality (what Terrence McKenna might call the entelechy of the Overmind) are openly setting themselves up to be exploited by that which resides on the other side."

-Blair MacKenzie Blake, "DMT and Magick," in Dark Lore, Vol II

I've often operated under the assumption that one of the prime motivators in life is the promise of great riches, material and otherwise, if only we are to obtain enough knowledge. Knowledge will make life bearable, yes? Knowledge will show us the way. Knowledge will allow us to live the good life.

Knowledge also possesses a great deal of intrinsic value, to me at least. It is valuable in and of itself, and we should appreciate it for what it is, not for what it does.

Well, I am growing tired of knowledge - particularly self-knowledge (indeed, one of the trickiest types of knowledge). I'm tired of these little epiphanies that the typical person is supposed to experience as we learn about ourselves. They're nonsense. I'm tired of trying to understand myself in terms of the things I already know of myself. "I'm this way," and "I'm like this," and "I do this when x happens." All incredibly boring, time consuming and pointless. I'm beginning to think that it would be a much more worthwhile experience to try and understand myself and the world that I inhabit in terms of the things that I don't know about myself. It's an seemingly arcane piece of wisdom that the unknown has vastly more to teach us than the known.

I rarely know what the hell I'm doing anyway. So fuck it. Let's go digging.

Depression Can Be A Real Motherfucker

2009-06-21T00:53:00.005-04:00

Depression sucks. Big sweaty fucking balls. I should consider myself fortunate that it doesn't affect me the way it used to; whereas depression would once render me literally useless for weeks at a time, it now generally comes on and lasts only a few days at most, and the intensity of the DOWN is not typically as far DOWN as once before.

One of the things about depression that really pisses me off is the way that it comes on, hitting me like a tidal wave - all the bad, empty, devastating feelings coming over in an instant, but at the same time taking its sweet fucking time (all of about 15 seconds) so that I feel myself falling farther and farther from normalcy. I fucking hate it because the wave of depression falls over me so suddenly, for no apparent reason, and I can feel the cocktail of chemicals in my brain being shaken up with poison in it. The really unfair and unfortunate part is that when the depression lifts, there is no corresponding raising of the shades, if you will. Not for me, at least. I have to wonder how others experience this.

It makes me feel like curling myself into a ball and laying in a whole that I dug with my own weathered hands. I feel like no one gets it. I feel like punching people in the face for not getting it (though I don't have to be depressed for that to be the case). I feel like I could and should be alone for the rest of my life. And worst of all, none of the music that colors my life sounds good. I have nearly 7000 songs in my iTunes library, which, if played on a continuous loop from song 1 to song 7000, would take about 785 hours to listen to. And when I'm fucking down, none of it sounds good. It all sounds like bullshit.

I'm glad this latest bout with the motherfucker that depression is ended before Father's Day weekend, so I can enjoy the weekend with my wife and kidlets... though I'm still not feeling 100%.

Anyway, enough of this fucking crying.

2009-06-15T13:07:00.002-04:00

We've been experiencing a lot of thunderstorms of late. I love them, for a number of varied reasons.

We've had thunderstorms for each of the past 3 days and nights, off and on. But there are little thunderstorms that come and go, their bark worse than their bite, and then there are thunderstorms that should be considered harbingers of the motherfucking apocalypse. The latter is what we endured last night.

To go with the torrential downpours, how about a side of hailstones the size of nickles (much like bullet holes the size of matzoh balls!)... Wind that blew the table over and practically put the umbrella through the siding of the house... Thunder that shook the very earth, and lightning that lit the entire sky like nuclear death, for 2-3 seconds at a time... it was unbelievably violent, and amazingly beautiful. Lucky for everyone, the world did not end. The sun rose again this morning. We didn't even lose the electricity.

I'm hoping for more of those today :-)

Suspended Animation

2009-06-14T16:57:00.004-04:00

Hell, I feel ANIMATED today.

Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I've been drinking small but substantial quantities of wine since 2:30PM this afternoon. Need to keep it up :-)

I was supposed to climb on the roof and clear the gutters, but suburban domestic servitude can wait. Cheap wine is today's over-arching theme. Not so inebriated that I can't help take care of my kids, but just enough so that I feel pretty good about it and everything else.

Man, the Black Pyramid s/t CD is supposed to be "stoner rock," but neither weed nor weed culture is my style. Cheap wine, apparently, is my style. And that record still sounds great, from the Middle Eastern sounds on the first track to the blues-y riffs and solos throughout... I don't play it nearly enough. I wish it were out on vinyl, because I love vinyl. I'd rather not buy another CD ever.

Black Math Horseman up next...

perceive, to;

2009-06-13T14:10:00.003-04:00

I either just formed a more honest and intimate relationship with the Earth and the immediate ground beneath me,

*OR*

that is the last time I mow the lawn in bare feet.

Miserer

2009-06-11T15:19:00.003-04:00

One of my last.fm friends sent me a link today to an mp3 excerpt of "Miserere," one of the songs that will be appearing on Bloody Panda's new record, Summon (due out August 11th).

Here is that link:

http://www.profoundlorerecords.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=blogcategory&id=14&Itemid=33

Holy. Mother. Fucker.

I had to ask him if it was possible that the Panda's oppressive style of doom has become even darker and heavier, because that's just what I was hearing. I don't often get this excited for records, but whereas I was super-thrilled for this record before, I am now practically drooling. August 11th cannot come fast enough.

In other news, I'm considering going to Allston again on Monday night to see Bone Awl, Ashdautas, Volahn, and Witch Tomb at O'Brien's. If I can get Marilyn to pick up the kids, I think I may...

How many posts can I title "Clean Hands Go Foul?"

2009-06-08T22:37:00.005-04:00

A lot of people who are supposedly very close to me really don't "get" me, and while I shouldn't, I do fault them for it. I'm not hard to read - in fact, I'm right here, laid out about as bare as one person can be, with my heart bleeding all over my sleeve. It pisses me off when these folks claim to know what's going on in my head and why I behave in the manner that I do.

This has nothing to do with the aforementioned long lost friends - I don't see them often, but they know me better than anyone on the planet, and they always have. They know when I'm headed in the right direction and they know when I'm full of shit - and, luckily for me, they have no problem pointing it out to me. Bailed me out (no, not out of jail!) more times than I can count.

But some people who claim to be my friend and claim to mean well are in reality full of stuff far worse than shit - twisting my words, actions, and feelings to their own twisted ends. You wanna twist my words? Fine. You wanna claim to know the intentions behind this or that action? Alright. You wanna twist my feelings to make yourself feel better about your fucked up little world? No beans motherfucker. No, I'm not gonna hurt you or even hold it against you, because who the hell has time for that? Not me. I'm simply going to forget you exist - and that's your fucking problem. And why is it your problem? Because I'm an awesome fucking person who has more REAL LOVE to give than most people dare dream of, and I'm am not afraid to give it. Not. Even. A Little.

I hate to sound like I hold my friends to abnormally high standards, or that truly being my friend is some sort of great privilege - like belonging to some elite club -because that's not it. I have friends all over the place - all over my immediate area, my home state, the country, all over the planet, and even in cyberspace - that I would literally bend over backwards for - simply because I CARE.

I don't claim to be perfect. I openly admit to having fucked over some people that didn't deserve what they got from me. I've fucked up, I've been wrong. Yeah, I've been bad. The difference is that I will say that I've done wrong, and I will tell you that I'm truly sorry, rather than twist around whatever you did or felt to make it look like I wasn't so bad. Because even though I've done wrong, I likely respect you enough to give you the truth.

If you're a friend of mine that reads this - be it an in-person friend, a person a million miles away, or one of my fine feathered internet friends - do me the favor of telling me if I've done something wrong. If I've made you uncomfortable, if I've screwed you over, or if I just plain neglected to do the right thing - do me the favor and call me out. You don't owe me that, but it would likely be in our mutual best interest

I never intended this blog to be for this sort of stuff, but if not here, then where? This shit comes out of me whenever I listen to Khanate's final album - the grand opus Clean Hands Go Foul. Somehow that record, and particularly Alan Dubin's agonizing vocals, bring me back to center on these things that keep me awake at night. And it fucking ROCKS, slow and mean. Those guys are sorely missed.

Today I'm...

2009-06-08T12:33:00.003-04:00

...skipping out of work early to meet some long lost friends at the Albany Pump Station for lunch. I'm so psyched. While I'd like to go see Eddie Vedder at the Palace with them, there was no way in hell I was ever going to pay 75 freaking dollars to the guy who fought the good fight against Ticketmaster's fiendish practice of overcharging for concert tix, only to turn around and do it himself.

Hey Ed: you're now the Pot, buddy.

But lunch!!! Can I get a Woo-Hoo???!!!

I may not like this tomorrow, but tonight it makes perfect sense...

2009-06-07T01:56:00.003-04:00

strike me down, should I go to hell for what I have done

i am alive
and what's more -
i am awake
she lives to give
and in turn i care only to take

ready to see, to feel
to burn through the night
i am the fire
and - out of nowhere
She is the light

my angels go silent
my demons, they creep;
yes, i may slumber
but though i lie, i cannot sleep

this soul takes hold
i embrace its caress
thine spirit cries out
with a need to express

we came looking for ash
but found only soot;
this love we consume, devour,
and trample underfoot

left in ruins
love we send to the grave
betraying a promise
we chose instead to enslave

convictions dissembled
morality left behind
a beauty to explore, to transcend -
and a memory to find

a whisper, a wonder
and a check left blank
to look back and question
why that crumbling ship sank

my will breaks
my spine cracks
with each passing lie...
without this one true love
we wither
we blister
and we die

TEN HOURS???

2009-06-06T08:54:00.003-04:00

I can't remember the last time I slept for 10 hours... it may have been before the kids were born. I don't even think I slept for 10 hours when I was in the Adirondacks by myself last summer.

There were some things I wanted/needed to accomplish last night, but I guess it doesn't really matter. Because I feel great :-)

Ready to enjoy the weekend like a badass motherfucker, like this guy:

The Isis-Dark Crystal Connection

2009-06-05T13:33:00.004-04:00

This is the best way for me to describe what Aaron Turner from Isis was like last night. Keep your eye on Fizzgig, the little ball of fur on the ground. Dead ringer for Mr. Turner and his new afro/bushy-beard combo.

Also funny - Pelican guitarist Laurent Schroeder-Lebec was sporting a Darkthrone t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off, in addition to the bandanna around his neck. Looked like he should have been working at a gas station in Appalachia somewhere. Pure awesomeness.

In related news, the sequel to the original Dark Crystal, called The Power of the Dark Crystal has been pushed back again to 2011, though a couple of sources say that fans shouldn't expect it until 2013.

Signal Fills the Void

2009-06-04T11:54:00.010-04:00

I'm sure than anyone who may or may not be reading this knows how it feels when you're tired... so fucking tired that you cannot get any restful sleep. I've slept for 4, maybe 5 hours total over the last two nights, and whereas I could once push myself through that lack of sleep without problem, it's getting more and more difficult as I age. Not only is my body tired, but my soul is just drained, exhausted, and lifeless. I thought all of the exhaustion that accompanies a semester of grad school would dissipate a few days after the semester ended, but it has been a few weeks since I turned in my research paper (the research paper on missile defense that raised me from an B+/A- in US Foreign Policy to a grand A!) and that hasn't happened yet, and I am more exhausted than ever.

There won't be much sleep coming tonight, so I'm looking to tonight's activities to rejuvenate my restless spirit, much like the Wolves in the Throne Room/A Storm of Light/Krallice show did a couple of weeks ago. Seeing Isis and Pelican should do the trick, at least for a while. Perhaps this is too much to expect from one concert, but there's something about Isis's new album Wavering Radiant, their entire back catalog, and Pelican's collected body of work that has led me to believe that this one night of live music could ease the constant tension on my heart and soul. There's one catch, though - I may HAVE TO hear Isis play "Hall of the Dead" and "In Fiction," and Pelican will certainly be REQUIRED to play "Last Day of Winter." Don't let me down, boys.

The gentlemen in opening band Tombs would be pleased, perhaps, to hear that I expect nothing from them. Not that they're not a good band - they are - but they don't get to me the way Isis and Pelican do.

My little kidlets are doing their best to (unintentionally) keep me smiling, as they always do. I mean, how could this not make you smile:

Or this:

They are such good girls. It also helps that they love one another.

... I love them to death - I mean, more than anything in the world. But there's something to be said for some silence once in a while, too. Having two kids running around doesn't leave much time for quiet reflection - something that has been in short supply. I'm looking to my upcoming trip to Minnewaska - my favorite place in the world - to provide the quiet and solitude that I need.

It also doesn't hurt that somehow I've actually managed to form what seem to be meaningful friendships ((** GASP **)) over the internet. You know who you are (that's not supposed to sound so foreboding). Thanks for being cool.

The 99 Toyota Corolla leaves for Northampton in t-minus 4 hours or so, and since this is the quiet (and I mean COMATOSE) period of the year at work, I can fill those four hours with music as loud as my laptop speakers get.

Here's hoping the boys rock out with their cocks out!

Tasty Time!

2009-06-03T12:26:00.003-04:00

Mmmm... best cure on Earth for getting only a couple hours of sleep...

Clean Hands Go Foul

2009-06-02T23:26:00.003-04:00

Leave it to Alan Dubin's tortured but mesmerizing vocals to lift me from a shitty day. No matter how bad my day has been, it would stand to reason that with a voice like that, Dubin has had a hundred days that were a thousand times worse.

Further confirmation, I think, of Schopenhauerian philosophy.

Long Day

2009-06-02T19:34:00.003-04:00

It's been a long day of incredulity at things that shouldn't surprise me in the least. I'm jaded enough that fucked up things shouldn't shock me, but sometimes I lose track of that, and my jaw hits the floor.

It's also been a long day of internal conflict. I'm torn in two different directions, neither of which is here and now. Damnit, I fucking hate that.

Now, I'm struggling to stand upright, as some malicious nauseating virus has turned my digestive system into a battleground.

I take solace, however, in the entertaining fact that I can go from listening to Xasthur and Lurker of Chalice directly to playing Counting Crows, and find myself feeling more depressed by the latter - perhaps because Counting Crows sounds like Main Street in Cold Spring when I was 20 years old.

One more reason to love Kylesa...

2009-05-31T17:34:00.004-04:00

Went for a drive to grab some food for the fam today, and got pulled over by a cop in Troy, apparently for speeding (though I question that I was actually exceeding the speed limit). He checked my plates, came to the car, gave me a funny look, took my license and registration, and after what seemed like an hour came back to the car.

"You're gonna want to slow down here," he said, " but since I like your shirt, I'm gonna let you go with a warning."

Puzzled, I said, "Uh... okay."

He replied, "My son was going to see Kylesa play, with Mastodon, I think, and I have a habit of checking out the bands that my son goes to see, since he's only 17. I listened to their new record [Static Tensions, the cover of which was depicted on my shirt] and really loved it, so I went to the show with him and have all their CDs now. I'm a fan, I guess... and feeling generous cuz of your shirt there. So just slow down a bit, don't mention this to anyone, and have good one, okay?"

I wanted to give him the "rock" salute, but figured I should quit while I was ahead. I said thanks a lot, and went on my way.

Forget the fact that their albums rule, they play raucous live shows, and are all-around nice people who autographed my copy of Static Tensions - the reason to love them is that their t-shirts get you out of speeding tickets. Fuck yeah!

Beginnings...

2009-05-30T21:35:00.003-04:00

The title of the blog, Land of Some Other Order, is taken from a track on Earth's Hex album. I love Earth, and have for years, since their beginnings on Seattle's influential Sub Pop label. For various reasons, the title seemed apt...

I'm not sure what I'll be writing about in this blog - probably about music, since I spend what probably amounts to way too much time listening to it. I'm a metal freak these days - a little bit of this, a little bit of that - as long as its metal, let me hear it. It provides a soundtrack of sorts, for what I do, what I think, what I feel.

I'm going to try to keep politics out of it, but I know already that I will not be successful.. I have too many thoughts, too many frustrations to keep quiet. I'm radically radical (like my terminology?) in my political and social beliefs, but I will probably just use this to express my own points of view, rather than to try to influence anyone else. I've identified, at various times, with Marxism, Anarcho-syndicalism, Green politics, deep ecology and various other ideologies. For the most part, I find ideology to be constraining rather than guiding, so I just am what I am. I mention the -isms because they have all influenced me in one way or another, though my biggest influences are my enemies.

I may discuss family issues, as well. I have two little girls - Isabela (will be 3 in August) and Calleigh (just turned one in April), as well as a wife who I generally adore. She also frustrates the hell out of me, because we are vastly different people. If we were the same, though, how could we learn from one another?

I'll likely get poetic at times, using language that no one will understand but myself. Call it poetry, if you will, but its really just me trying to hide various feelings in sneaky, indirect language.

I think that's all I have to say for now. The trick will be in seeing how much I actually use this.