Wednesday, December 18, 2024

The Universe Inside

I was up before first light, first ensuring that the hallmark above my mind was secure, and it was. Deeply etched was the word Faith standing sentinal above my mind hole. Faith in myself and, if I stay three-treasures fit, complete faith in the Way. Corporial, I concentrated on my diaphram, that one can absorb the sutras, like speed reading. Samadal, sutral, mindful concentration, feet first, then floating slowly upward through my bones, muscles, gelatanous pipes and cables. Anatomical identification scores the rising scan of my body. I realized that my sentience was the mudroom into the house of craving. I, too, understood that the wonder of my body coalesced, not into the hard and soft hardware and software within, but into point where there is singularity, like your God Almighty. The point at which I'm free to extrapolate the magic of my joint and several body outward into the dark holes of space, absorbing the sutras and dharma abstractly and curved light without reading a word. But, you can't cheat at this, so there's much to be done. I'm reminded that I still have time to do it, but just barely.

Friday, November 29, 2024

Appalachian American Ennui and Antinatalism

A man who lives in the next county over, and who does not even know that he is part Jewish, has taught his eight year old granddaughter the Nazi Seig Heil salute. Her mother is the eye witness and can do nothing about it because her production of offspring has hemmed her in to her the monster's home where she is stuck. Antinatalism should be taught in the schools. "Saw it on a wall, 'Motherhood mean mental freeze'." And I just learned that the ruining child called a little boy a monkey because of his race. The man in the next county over is grooming another monster in his trumpian image. This is AAE at it's worst. This is the rule, not the exception, in these Clinch mountains that lean in order to hide these snug pockets of sadness from the rest of most of us.

Wednesday, November 27, 2024

My Brother by Another Mother - Michael Paul Smith - Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone; and I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry

The link to his music appears below his picture. Michael p Smith https://www.bandmix.com/michael-p-smith/

Michael Paul Smith: Fast Forward


My heart breaks for you, Michael.  When I look at this picture of you, my eyes try to play tricks on me.  They conspire with my consciousness to create the ostensible lie that whispers to me that you're always sad, constantly depressed, and steeped in continuous loathing, all based upon this almost incomprehensible visage of the countenance that prison has heaped upon you.  I have to remind myself that you probably smile, or laugh even, and that this photograph is a spark that was pitifully, sadly captured nanoseconds before you grinned out its proper opposite. I've heard the joy of prisoners as they discuss their retarded anecdotes, while coughing out loud.  It's what J.D. Salinger meant when he wrote of  the rocking back and forth "between the grief and the high delight."  I, too, am intimately familiar with both extremes, one more than the other. So we share that, and a cruel father and that's about it.

Wednesday, October 30, 2024

Gerald Manly Hopkins Frozen to the Ice Cold Appalachian Ground

Spinning orbital outer spacework froze the ground outside last night and changed everything into sturdier stalks from "fresh firecoal,[walnut] falls, finches wings, fold, fallow and [frosty] plow, landscapes plotted and pieced, and all trades, their gear and tackle and trim," sleepier bees lethargic waspers, and nasalwake gusts into the inside my face concavaties, first thing, while countering with hot black coffee and long underwear.

Wednesday, September 4, 2024

Took Winston Churchill's Black Dog for a Walk on Sunday. It Got Out on Tuesday.

Or maybe it took me for a walk. Understand that when we take each other out, which is fortunately a rare thing, we usually have to avoid the venue for a long time afterward on account of socially unacceptable performances we delivered. Unless, of course, when we can't. The good news is that, despite the dog slipping his lead yesterday as I was working at the Justice Center, I didn't slap the genuine fuck out anyone.

Sunday, September 1, 2024

While it lasts - The Day at the Beach

Stray beach dogs at the beach chasing frisbees into the sea because they are basically stupid minions that bite children. The royal beach. Rhymes most appropriately with bleach. Beach wraps around the colonies within continental rims. The beach is made of gentle glass and the millenia of the wear of time. But, gentle on the feet like watered down bleach. Angular. Better walk back the way I came in order to maintain angular justice to keep my body from imbalance and preserve equanimity of the hipwork. The beach, a staging area. There are black beaches at the Blackpool beach. I'll never see the beach again. The beach is the foamy welcome mat to the high seas. The smell of the air that soaks the beach and then shares the smell with my face without fee. The communal beach. My balls at the beach. Beach pussy. The beach has this beautiful way of settling my libido to sit it out, so to speak. My sandy balls at the beach. The three of us at the beach. Bellies at the beach. The truth comes out at the beach. Chalky oily Appalachians at Myrtle the beach. My member at the beach. Beach penis. Tucked in. Old balls at the beach. Old beach balls. That fishy smell of the beach matches that fishy smell away from the beach. That fishy smell wafting in the mountains. The sound of children at beach time. Fewer women wear watches anymore, especially so on the beach. Replaces by rectangles under umbrellas in the hands of noisy women and noiser kids at the beach that tell time, too. Beachy sand palms at the beach. Sandy black radiating rectangles. Towels. Sunglasses. Oil. Assholes pleading to be taken into the salty sea that the beach buffets. A young boy dug a hole in the beach at Buxton. His last act. At the beach. While frisbees cut through the thick air at Avon. Beach pits. Arm pits. Feet. Two by two times ten toes at the beach front. Beaches bloody beaches absorb those human invasions likes sponges. We then become the beach. I'm at Avon for the balance. At Buxton. At Okrakoe. At that island near Charles town. Where there was no beach. Just ocean and exposed rootworks abruptly into the Atlantic. Where I started puttin things together, fully clothed under the water at Hunting Island that has no beach, where dogs can't shit.

Sunday, August 25, 2024

Phantom Thread - This film will be remembered as a classic over and above the classics

Masterfully and entirely novelly Written and directed by P.T. Anderson, this film is absolutely great in every respect. Run the credits. It all bends sharply toward cinematic perfection. DD Lewis, and Vicky Kreips are hynotic. Eleven out of ten, so where's it been for the last seven years? I never understand this temporal gap between the release of great art to the public and my cognition of its exitence. I have a very strong hunch that it has something to do with the marketplace. No problem.

Sunday, August 18, 2024

My Pineal Gland, Knuckled Violence, Paternal Pride Arising Eternal, and Robert Frost. (September 17, 2022 through August 17, 2024)

After slapping the shit out of the side of my face, and after I pleaded for another, he delivered immediately, but not in keeping with my request. In lieu thereof, he nailed me right between the goddamn eyes with a left hook, causing a flash-bang in my face, shocked and surprised bones and underlying tissues, and watering eyes. Even greater than the pain was pride's powerful rising, never to recede again, I suspect. In the days that followed, I recognized the love that made my obits and nasal cavities ache with just the right dollop of pain. And in those same days, the violence seemed to coalesce into the area between by two brows, so it wouldn't surprise me at all if all those calcified, rust-henged obstructive, chakrac seals were broken open when his beautiful fist came 'round and tagged me right in my fucking face. But, what's truly sacred is what it broke loose in my beloved aggressor. Exactly 23 months in the making. And let us not forget how his dear mother would have literally expanded outward with pure and perfect maternal pride, and ex-spousal delight, as well. But she wasn't, and in the words of Robert Frost, "that has made all the difference."

Friday, August 16, 2024

Antifa

Image how different the reaction would be if Antifa really was responsible for the violent insurrection. The rightwingers would have called for summary executions. Yes, the same rightwingers who winked at the criminal enterprise since the true culprits were kindred.

Thursday, August 15, 2024

Real Estate - Horizon

The Metrics of Narcotics

A local woman told me that she was present when kilos of cocaine, 2.2 pounds each, arrived in Morristown, Tennessee early one morning in the late nineties. They had dolphins emblazened in the centers, perfectly placed by cartel underlings, from the jungles of South America. She swore it her made her wet, especially when a AK emerged from behind the door, just in case. And terrified. In representing persons accused of narcotics crimes for almost 34 years, I've damn near learned the metric system. Big eights are an eighth of full keys, eightballs are 3.4 grams, which is one eighth of an ounce, keys are one thousand grams and suffer cuts with baby laxitive or novacaine by greedy purveryors of what remains most dangerous drug on earth. Those little bumps eventually cause brain damage, e.g. Robin Williams and Anthony Bourdain. And as the brief, 15 minute euphoric, and deadly intense lift it provides wears off, it's time to reboot, re-up, all night long.

"Saw it on the wall, 'Motherhood Means Mental Freeze'."

Wednesday, August 14, 2024

Why Don't Appalachian Women Dance?

I confine this to real Appalachian women who have not enjoyed the swelling experience of attending a college in an urban area because of generational poverty, unintended pregnancies, religious indoctrination, backwardness and ignorance. In narrowing the question, it seems I've answered it.

Tuesday, August 13, 2024

Leslie Feist in the Canopy of a Cherry Tree

I've learned to look up. There's an entire vista awaiting when one tilts her chin about 50 degrees. Especially in the woods. This simple act of tilting opens the spectre and glory of the canopy. I know a young woman who spent practically all of her ambling time with her eyes gazing groundward, searching for fascinating fungi. And she found a full patch. Later that day, she returned to the hollow-head and ascended through the deep sex of the woods, rising to the clitoral pinnacle of the vulvic holler, whereupon her eyes rolled upward in their sockets and her chin floated skyward into the canopy, and she realized at that moment that she had entered a spidery sky denied. It was just past mid-summer just south of the emerging half moon, so she sat there, sitting, angular and propped against a beech tree, soaking and scratching the back of her head against its skinny sheathing, whereupon tempanic vibrations alerted her eyes to the east and there she was. Sitting in the crotch of a crooked cherry tree, watching our young woman watching her, through rolling time, then watching her in return.

Monday, August 12, 2024

A Prisoner's Path to Nature (The In-breath is the trailhead)

Even assuming the human "inmate," which is a euphemism for prisoner, is in "administrative segregation," which is a euphemism for solitary confinement, she is not segregated from nature. In fact, one of the most intricate manifestations of nature, a universe unto its self, is fully present at all times -- the human body that shares the stars. This corporeal wonder is observable through all of the senses that it has developed -- a self observing manifestation of the whole of itself. The inmate thus observes, through the body itself the diaphram as it moves, the heart as it beats, the central and peripheral nervous system as it fires, the body's capacity to process food and water, its wonderful ability to shed, to regenerate, to resist gravity itself with muscles and bones, and to stand wiithin constant protection by its brilliant sheathing. But most fascinating of all is the singularity with which these functions operate; When the inmate recognizes that, the observatory is constructed within her otherwise closed quarter. She cannot be denied the temporal proximity of this marvelous generation of life so long as it continues to breathe from the surrounding air, which is the life-enabling hallmark of a singular, yet fractal life. This is available through Thich Nhat Hanh's universal in-breath, maybe late at night, while the others rest within their bodies unaware.

Friday, August 9, 2024

Crooked Dice

Louie c k stands for "causes kancer."

Of the soul sellers and truth tellers. Louie C.K. is one of the worst people on earth, not necessarily because he exposed himself to noncomplict women, but because he folded the shame back into a comeback tour where he exploited his own experience, not to for any redemptive reason, but for cheap laughs that made him and his brand even more unnecessary millions. Please die and ressurrect George Carlin. Louie CK causes cancer. It's perfectly acceptable to hate this stupid mother fucker.

Elephant Revival - "Wildfire" (Original by Mandolin Orange)

Elephant Revival "Remembering a Beginning"

Don't let the Pimps of Materialism sell you a dream home on Mars, or tri...

Thursday, August 8, 2024

Elephant Revival - Ancient Sea

Elephant Revival - Cosmic Pulse

I am thankfully old now. Just leave it on the porch, if you don't mind.

The Ultra Violence: Ron Wallace, Hugh Huddleston, the Lillelids, the Hispanic baby, Bubba, Adam Kelly, Glass Eyed Rick on Short Mtn., Jeff Fye, Clarence and Mary Gallop, . . .

All cut short. These are the ghosts and institutional ranks of vilany from Alex DeLarge's "ultra violence," vibratting like battery operated plastic cocks, withn the anal reach of the Appalachian ethos, by my own account. This is Appalachian American Ennui. Bloody as blood sport blood cock fights and blood banks split wide open and spilt down porch steps and bloody stairwells from bloody bodies and their bloody body holes. Blood on blond bangs and behind little ears and baby seats. "Hold his fucking head under to the bubbles quit." Rage threw that dead baby against the wall on the West End of town. Clarence and Mary, old coupled, kicked to death so Tommy and Eddie could pawn their sentimental keepsakes and re-up with new bags of nose blow. Face shot off. Shot and run over. Bubba's face shot clean off. Rick got his glass eyes shot out when his lights went out. Jeff got killed by a detective. Shot all to fuck. Split wide open. And that's not all. I both advocated for and actually liked them both. Client kills client. Shot in the mouth. Shot in the mirror. Shot in the gullett and the solar plexus. Shot in the phone. Goddamn Steve Barnard shot Nate Ivy's leg clean off at the knee. Barnard now lies in that subterranian stinkng. Little girl burned up beside her daddy wearing my gift from the day before around her neck. Same age as my daughter. Her name was Amber Sumner. Judge Ben Strand caused the Kline boy to kill himself. Juvenle injustice times infinity. Now Ben lies stiking, too. "Fuck you, Judge Strand," lamented aloud in open court from the black man who had grown internally free from his serial sentences. Consecutive. Consequential. Lie there stinking up your subterranian six feet, Judges Strand, Beckner, Brand, Hagler, Johns, Mooneyham, Thomas, Scalia, Roberts, Cavanaugh, Barrett, Gorsuch, Slone, Taylor,. . . . Even if you're not even dead yet. My Hancock County client then instructed his new victim: "Now turn around, you mother-fucker, so your guts will spill down into the holler." That's what. I see why blood hides from us.

Elephant Revival - Echo's Rose. The Zenith of the Two Most Beautiful of all Art Forms - Music and Dance

Sunday, August 4, 2024

Heroin

Heroin's now neo-heroin and not like the China White or black tar in the daze of days past, when Chinese Opium, Afgan Poppys, and Italian seafaring transmissions ruled those days. While that provenencial substance is still present, so is fentaal and MDMA and a littlen blow if she gets really lucky. But, most graciously, they get charged in the singular with possession of a schedule two narcotic, salvaging them from some rogue prosecutor who's probably killed people, who is situated in dark red upper quarter office in east tennessee from charging for them with all four. "Smoke it if you must, but please don't spike" has been my sage counsel for decades to my many sad stories who have fallen off the bluff into the different levels of awaiting hell, which is their last best hope. But they rarely listen. Methadone maintenence and the concommittant rides to Newport or Mosheim six days per week. They have no drivers' licenses, so family gets called up. Forget about he lies for now, though they're innumerable as a sea sand shards and the size of the centuries, epic and seemingly global when fitted up against the ones they have to tell to cover up their progenitors. It makes them much sicker. Problem: doing those days in custdy draws into what's left a hideous and abomidable withdrawal that feel like the killer body flu coupled with a massively deep depression and most unpleasant bodily reactions. But if they do stay clean their reward is oftentimes the death because the next time comes the spike is the last time. Their tolerance has been drastically mitigated on account of their involuntary forbearance, and death's doors swing wide. I've known so very many. Ubiquitous are the active spikers who, upon the recovering inoculant's release from custody, ring their electric rectangles to re-up. I just learned that a subutec strip can be spiked, to which I said, "no shit?"

Beck - Modern Guilt Full Album (Extraordinary Collection)

Thursday, August 1, 2024

Little girls in leotards and human competition are tools

Tools of capitalism in the aggregate to further divert the attention of the stupid masses from social injustices created by the monster itself. Fact, goddammit.

Monday, July 15, 2024

When I Shut My Eyes I can smell the Wild West

This acute drought invites the short shadows of desert life into my Appalachian sentience and such allows my mind to veer off into those desert colors I once saw in the four corners, and the smell of the odd red and those strange green striations on desert walls of younger western montanas that might resemeble the bones of these ancient Appalachain rises. Rise and fall, my beloved friends. Nevermind the hill and holler billies within this vertical life, dry with summer arid all around makes me inhale the desert and sadly forsee my own mountain rain forests succomb to the same climatic genesis of those western ranges long after I have contributed my own set of bones to their earthworks.

Monday, July 1, 2024

Lou Reed - Endless Cycle

This song, from Reed's masterwork album, New York, forecasted the greatest societal problem since slavery. It's called "Endless Cycle," but the cycle can be slowed to a crawal through widespread postive eugenics programs. What's at stake? Everything.

Sunday, June 30, 2024

Asheville - June 29, 2024 - Frank's First Ink Conflated With an Electric Pacifier and Appalachian American Ennui

Blackie made sure my rising, which I then paid forward to Frank with unexpected and amazing results by climbing atop his long body, straddling his sleeping chest and arms, and ensured his awakening, as well. We were up early and soon set out. Inkward, onward, and southbound to Asheville. The Amsterdam of the Southern Appalachians. I think we laughed all the way from Morristown to Asheville, if that's even possible. I shared my guts with my best friend, and the hilarity overtook the Toyota interior the entire way down. Iced coffee from the cooled countertop in the Woolworth enabled us to watch it rain on beautifully progressive and high functioning people of all stripes. True to form, Frank cautioned the congregants and artists: "you really can't take him anywhere," and bade the top of the morning to gentle pixie-like Jordan Ata in the afternoon. Gentle Jordan, to whom I entrusted my changeling, enabled my emergent son Forever changed from Forever Tattoo. The color black enabled the others to bulge from muscled armed surroundings. Peanuts, Pepsi, and yes, sadly, a couple of Red Bulls were found to be necessary on no sleep. I, on the other hand, slept long and and nightmarishly well. His was but two hours. The prize? Yet another of the greatest days of our lives. Meanwhile, above Clinch Mountain near Yellow Branch, called, Chinqupin, near War Creek, which empties into the Clinch River, the boy with that plastic abomination flashing red, blue and green in his mouth turned six. I was told "a man gave it to him." It reminds me -- What's to become of the boy amongst the hill and holler billies and the children among whom they affect? I bought the fucked up, garish instrumentality from him for two bucks and took it home and threw it into the cats. Vergil is chasing its flashing lights violently across the floorboards. I've seen this monstrosity unfold before. This happens with a silent frequency within the hollows of Appalachian American Ennui. It's called grooming, and it puts merciless violence in my heart and ironically does nothing to pacify.

Sunday, June 9, 2024

Goodbye Horses

NIN - Only

Sleep Drifter - King Gizzard

Make it wi chu - Queens of the Stone Age

How Soon Now - Johnny Marr (Smith's Cover_

Viagra Boys - 6 Shooter (instrumental) Great

PJ Harvey - Dress

Sonic Youth - Kool Thing

EELS - Novacaine for the Soul

Trisomie - The Last Song

Portishead = The Rip Viddy

Viagra Boys - Troglodyte

Son, please run inside and press like before it's too late. Thanks.

Just Like You - Viagra Boys

Deadcrush - AltJ

Viagra Boys - Punk Rock Loser

Ministry - N.W.O. (New World Order)

Who's Rule of Law?

IDLES: NPR Music Tiny Desk Concert

Viagra Boys - Sports

Pixies - Gouge Away (Modified by the Pixies Most Excellent)

The Black Keys - Lonely Boy [Official Music Video]

Viagra Boys - Research Chemicals (Barely beneath the levity lies a very important subject we better listen to, if we're able to discern the message)

7Horse - Way Down South

7Horse - Two Stroke

Sunday, May 12, 2024

A Beloved Version of My Mother - Our Last Day Together

I took my mother to Mount Vernon Restaurant on South Broad Street just south of Chattanooga before her cognitive acuity had completely failed her.  We ate collard greens.  Afterward, we drove up Lookout Mountain, and then on to Hixson to look at our old house on Brynwood Drive.

 En route, I drew a brick house to her attention and confessed that when I was in third grade I coaxed Perry Anne Davis to show me her pussy in its basement.  We shared an immediate and intense belly laugh.

"Greg," she howled, "you just won't do!"

A perfect day in the life. Just us two.

Til Tuesday - Voices Carry - 3/26/1986 - Ritz

BENEE - Green Honda (Unknown Mortal Orchestra Remix) (Official Audio)

Sunday, April 7, 2024

Friday, February 23, 2024

Tuesday, February 13, 2024

Santigold - Disparate Youth (Official Music Video)

Alex Serra - Outter Space (Official Videoclip)

Tom Misch & Yussef Dayes - Tidal Wave [Official Video]

Don't Call My Name

Hospitality - Traps and Arrows

Hospitality - I Miss Your Bones (Live on KEXP)

Rat Palace - Look My Way

Hospitality — Rikki Don't Lose That Number (Steely Dan cover)

Hospitality - Eighth Avenue

Hospitality - Going Out (Official Music Video)

Hospitality - I Miss Your Bones (Official Music Video)

Hospitality - Nightingale

The Smile - Under Our Pillows

The Smile - Thin Thing (Official Video)