r us t
glyphviolent growlingown groves bewildersenses magnet mojos narrow greatsdraining try toohard barbiewhoresfamine bugspatch miranda your corpseleather breaking pond levelmaced withshivers logic & gizmobreaking forgetful sins inyour ideas deadstove pridepushed kerosene shantypipes tragic pigeons lace wails stabbing bravadoapparent glass post-trauma sqeamish mayweatherlost crazied with outwar rant tenant a tensionattentionbackpack collie voidsstabfruit aggravationpaste cellar tricksTV basiceyeschurchbaked markers temptation traces cocksure vinerambles milking duskrustforms maiden glamorwasted whizking vertigo popdipped dangle nougat prince cabinfrenzy shores undrizzled arrogant: golodge genuine airaffectiongrand mambos beveled rootscavity zealots umbrellas flagjohn develops moist alarmriddlerspoke trees
12/27/10
12/11/10
"NUMBer One"
{new pIGEONhOLE song 12.11.10 :: demo}
New music tonight!
As you probably know, pIGEONhOLE is a 2-person sonic project composed of me on lyrics & vocals and Chase Littleton on everything else.
This is a song we've been working on awhile, finally came together tonite. Just a demo, but I really like it.
Slower & more introspective than a lot of our stuff - give it a listen & lemme know what you think! (yes, I mean YOU!)
the lyrics....
NUMBer ONE
looming clouds
don't always rain
booming louds
increase the pain
explosive errors
scorch our smiles
extensive terrors
wreck our styles
looking out
for number one
you win the race
but have no fun
grooming shrouds
ignoring strife
dooming crowds
to after-life
expensive eager
hard to please
depressive beavers
chewing trees
i am fine
with number two
i get to finish
then i'm through
11/16/10
я℮♭ø◎ṫ
я ℮ ♭ ø ◎ ṫ
: if.not (happy)
: -decide.to (reboot);
: time.good? [YES]
: if.not (happy)
: -decide.to (reboot);
: time.good? [YES]
10/28/10
s a w w t o o t h e d
s a w w t o o t h e d
a cooln ight
made of wet scarwiwit
largely willbe the creation
of Ppsych0-pthss
all sd a second set
w/mad robot gumption ality
charged words
: saww-toothed, jamfaced areas ofcrime
-they didn’t commit
the bradissolve radioactive waste
inw-aterrin lit up in the no-Ppsych0-pthsic control group
in the psychions and a second set
w/emotionally charged words
: saww-toothed
, jamfaced areas
of the brain lit up
in the non-path0=Ppsychik contrricy
tame the mac
they ’re just beingthem selves
Tment geeKs and thxeylated mass
loopstupid clip bastards — was
,canspangled certainly a and
, ofcertain lee Ppsych0-pths
,certainlee Ppsych0-pths
since that momentou
hear rare rain like
narrows to rush
, to gently falll
i lwill betten
,thewill
be that glassstruption
, as we kno w
absorbedby itsibilant sizzle
absorbed by itss taccato static
hwelli be panoply
of governThee
wiledMonk keys are known for
some naughty habits
you can’t blonate role in was
,canspangled
certainly a aced
amn areas of the brain
lit up in the non-Ppsych0and
, ofcertain lee anol the group
in the psychikfluence
saww-toothed
jamfaced
amn areas
of the brain
[c] K@T in the H@T :: 10.23.10 lyrix version >
10/19/10
sibilant sizzle & staccato static
Sitting here
with my window
open,
I hear
rare rain
begin to
gently
fall.
I listen,
absorbed by its
sibilant sizzle
&
staccato static.
A cool night
made of wet scarecrows
&
creaking boards
under a moon
of lavender levity.
Why am I inside
with this wonder
at my door?
I get up & take my umbrella
for an ambling ramble down by
the drop-dappled pond.
with my window
open,
I hear
rare rain
begin to
gently
fall.
I listen,
absorbed by its
sibilant sizzle
&
staccato static.
A cool night
made of wet scarecrows
&
creaking boards
under a moon
of lavender levity.
Why am I inside
with this wonder
at my door?
I get up & take my umbrella
for an ambling ramble down by
the drop-dappled pond.
10/15/10
"Us" vs. "Them"
(or: "How Words Seduce Us To Forget About The Excluded Middle")
Life is not black, not white; nor non-black, nor non-white. Being able to only think in absolute & opposing dualisms is a crippling flaw that has infected the very core of our national discourse.
What happened to yes-to-some-parts/no-to-other-parts? Or the clarifying power of defining our terms & not just sloppily damning whole swaths of thought w/out good reason?
What happened to realizing we're all trying to solve the same problems & having at least basic respect for all of us truly trying to find ways to improve where we can?
Why do we have to cut w/these exact & over-sharp idea-knives that always end up making someone bleed? Do we really love blood more than progress?
...even this post with its purpose of trying to expose the rainbow of possibilities truly open is guilty of painting absolutism as always-bad, when its really just usually-bad.
A pox on the thought-tyranny of words & Aristotle's naive A=A simplicities.
No wonder we're so lost & fucked up in this postmodern haze of linguistic fog....
What happened to yes-to-some-parts/no-to-other-parts? Or the clarifying power of defining our terms & not just sloppily damning whole swaths of thought w/out good reason?
What happened to realizing we're all trying to solve the same problems & having at least basic respect for all of us truly trying to find ways to improve where we can?
Why do we have to cut w/these exact & over-sharp idea-knives that always end up making someone bleed? Do we really love blood more than progress?
...even this post with its purpose of trying to expose the rainbow of possibilities truly open is guilty of painting absolutism as always-bad, when its really just usually-bad.
A pox on the thought-tyranny of words & Aristotle's naive A=A simplicities.
No wonder we're so lost & fucked up in this postmodern haze of linguistic fog....
10/7/10
not what's wrong
not what's wrong
or
what do i need to change
but
what am i doing right
or
what do i need to just do more of
and
(of course)
how do i stay on course
where the map's working
&
ditch the anchor of wishing
doing what i do
felt different
in any way
because
i'm just me
and
i always will be
so
maybe i should
make friends
and
pay attention
to what i have
before crying
about
what i thought
i needed
or
what do i need to change
but
what am i doing right
or
what do i need to just do more of
and
(of course)
how do i stay on course
where the map's working
&
ditch the anchor of wishing
doing what i do
felt different
in any way
because
i'm just me
and
i always will be
so
maybe i should
make friends
and
pay attention
to what i have
before crying
about
what i thought
i needed
9/16/10
Thou Shalt Not Infringe (In DMCA We Trust)
Copyright infringement is the new heresy of The Corporate Church of Intellectual Property & Trademark tm.
Just ask any
pirate,
mash-up remixer,
graffiti artist
or other culture-jammer
about how hard the Lawyerly Inquisition can come down on you if you transgress that taboo!
Just ask any
pirate,
mash-up remixer,
graffiti artist
or other culture-jammer
about how hard the Lawyerly Inquisition can come down on you if you transgress that taboo!
+$+
9/9/10
NONFICTION ARTICLE : 250-500 WORDS
"how to extract a fishlamp from your hideous relics"
ingredients needed
-----------------------
* 23 jester magnets
* 9 oz of sarcataclysm
* a jigger of formaldehyde
* 7 large eggs (biped)
* an invisible banana
(ask your parents to help if you're not sure
if you should be running w/scissors or not!)
at noon you will feel
a vague swelling,
ready all the catnip then
roast it
on irregular-low till
it stops whinnying
blot the remaining
syntax with cheesecloth
or
a frisbee
if both tails have cracked
down the middle, rotate your
jaundice & pray
for rain
make sure to save
the sweat of your
brow,
it can be used
later
to douse the fires
of your passion
mix well using
your grandmother's thigh
bone
& a
bottle
found
hidden
under a
bridge
if your name turns
yellow, pop it
open & remove the crust
(otherwise, thursday)
garnish with kudzu
extravagance & serve
serveserveserveserve
9/8/10
it's not the things
it's not the things you said that broke me, {avert your I's} it was more things you didn't stay. willing or not we're prey: hurray! amble & gamble oh you paper nap kin! punctuate trivial dreck. should we stop writing these secrets ? are we speaker giving away wires too much & causing lightning by it? bleak hive mechanics herd harmony halos a meek module consciousness. the science of ruin trumping the meat cakes of dawn with simile damage & diuretic deconstruction. an alley thin shadow simian blends doorways at 13 o' clock
9/2/10
I lost my hipster handbook & can't quite remember....
How many levels of ironic distance are we supposed to be maintaining today?
Are we making fun of kitsch or is it just retro-kewl again?
(Things just aren't the same since the day we ran out of fresh pasts to plunder.)
How many levels of ironic distance are we supposed to be maintaining today?
Are we making fun of kitsch or is it just retro-kewl again?
(Things just aren't the same since the day we ran out of fresh pasts to plunder.)
who-what-when-where-why ...and tipsy widows
Dear Theoretical Readers (or spambots):
My name is Brian Dale & I live in Athens, TN -
which is better than living nowhere,
but only just barely.
I have been recently published
in the whirling eddies of 3 streams,
the whispers of your mother's gynecologist
&
on the back of the last pack of gum
you left to melt in the car's back window.
Otherwise, I am saving himself for
some nifty tornado
or
a biped with more words than legs.
I'm not really sorry,
but I'll make you a sandwich if you're hungry.
Be glad you're not him, because I am (usually).
My name is Brian Dale & I live in Athens, TN -
which is better than living nowhere,
but only just barely.
I have been recently published
in the whirling eddies of 3 streams,
the whispers of your mother's gynecologist
&
on the back of the last pack of gum
you left to melt in the car's back window.
Otherwise, I am saving himself for
some nifty tornado
or
a biped with more words than legs.
I'm not really sorry,
but I'll make you a sandwich if you're hungry.
Be glad you're not him, because I am (usually).
9/1/10
out by your quiet [poem, 09.01.10]
out by your quiet pool, a darkly eyeing shine told me to avoid evaporation. its watch bled 1:23 & laughed, but through the swagger i thought i detected a glint & asked again seeking sureness - ignore that splash it's just the cricket pastors preaching insect hymnals with broad mantis glee & fine stitchery still, it reminded again me: avoid evaporation
8/12/10
On Starting to Start
It's not that we don't know what to write, it's that we don't know where to start.
It's as if the bewilderment of choice overwhelms the decision-making circuits somehow. The raucous din of 1001 ideas and desires and fears, all clamoring for expression now Now NOW! A man with 2 watches never knows what time it is and frequently misses the train.
But all that racket and hooplah just won't do. To write effectively, we have to drill down into the very word and phrase of it, take the idea's wings and polish them to shine, then fly it seductively into the gaze of their mind's eye to grab their attention.
The dance of meaning must be precise and properly dramatic, or one of the other thousand nearby explosions of sensory input will drown our words in the numb disregard of distraction.
The glint and glare of unwritten ideas can wreak havoc with our ability to begin, continue and finish with any semblence of sanity afterwards.
We're like sugar-high children at a carnival of possibilities. All the noise and magic and sawdust frenzy of the whole thing makes it hard to slow down enough to do anything except marvel, and want to do everything at once because it's all so amazingly alluring.
If only doing everything didn't mean nothing would really get done.
The other side of the same can't-decide is the slothful difficulty of actually FINISHING something and giving it final public birth. It's so easy and alluring to let it loll around unformed and unedited, always just about to be The Perfect Idea, The Perfect Piece. Just about....almost. Almost never happens.
Unfortunately, creation demands we slay The Possible to birth The Actual.
We have to make explicit, defining choices over and over again till we've soaked it in our intent and our vision. And no one can tell us how to do that but ourselves, because the answer is scribed inside places we can't even see without the creation acting as a bridge into them.
But so much of life is the direct opposite of that, a near-constant stream of discouragement and jockeying for position with little regard for what your say is. A tide of No's and demands that you must adjust to.
Writing is hard because it requires courage enough to simply have an opinion or story. But to take the time to nail that lofty butterfly down and tag it with words so others can enjoy it is even more difficult.
The butterfly would rather flit free afield, far from the semantic eyes of the reader. And it's easy to get entranced simply watching it fly around.
However, the net won this battle. Next time it may go to the butterfly.
Remember: you can't catch if you don't chase.
Start!
It's as if the bewilderment of choice overwhelms the decision-making circuits somehow. The raucous din of 1001 ideas and desires and fears, all clamoring for expression now Now NOW! A man with 2 watches never knows what time it is and frequently misses the train.
But all that racket and hooplah just won't do. To write effectively, we have to drill down into the very word and phrase of it, take the idea's wings and polish them to shine, then fly it seductively into the gaze of their mind's eye to grab their attention.
The dance of meaning must be precise and properly dramatic, or one of the other thousand nearby explosions of sensory input will drown our words in the numb disregard of distraction.
The glint and glare of unwritten ideas can wreak havoc with our ability to begin, continue and finish with any semblence of sanity afterwards.
We're like sugar-high children at a carnival of possibilities. All the noise and magic and sawdust frenzy of the whole thing makes it hard to slow down enough to do anything except marvel, and want to do everything at once because it's all so amazingly alluring.
If only doing everything didn't mean nothing would really get done.
The other side of the same can't-decide is the slothful difficulty of actually FINISHING something and giving it final public birth. It's so easy and alluring to let it loll around unformed and unedited, always just about to be The Perfect Idea, The Perfect Piece. Just about....almost. Almost never happens.
Unfortunately, creation demands we slay The Possible to birth The Actual.
We have to make explicit, defining choices over and over again till we've soaked it in our intent and our vision. And no one can tell us how to do that but ourselves, because the answer is scribed inside places we can't even see without the creation acting as a bridge into them.
But so much of life is the direct opposite of that, a near-constant stream of discouragement and jockeying for position with little regard for what your say is. A tide of No's and demands that you must adjust to.
Writing is hard because it requires courage enough to simply have an opinion or story. But to take the time to nail that lofty butterfly down and tag it with words so others can enjoy it is even more difficult.
The butterfly would rather flit free afield, far from the semantic eyes of the reader. And it's easy to get entranced simply watching it fly around.
However, the net won this battle. Next time it may go to the butterfly.
Remember: you can't catch if you don't chase.
Start!
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