La la land is a bad movie, and you should feel bad for liking it.

 My plan worked. Ruin businesses. Destroy the arts. Kill over half a million people, and make everyone paranoid.

My dividends? $3200 dollars over the course of a year that I technically already paid for anyways.

Big daddy gub-mint says I don't have to pay it back. Well, I'm figuring I already did. I'm going to invest all of my not earned nothing into stocks. Then maybe I'll do what the rich people do.

Oh, that works?

So I shouldn't do it?

Got it, my bad.

I wonder, why does my neighbor got so much air to breath? Not if my 2nd mother fuckin amendment has anything to say about it. Yeah murica!

There's a point to the freeform prose. Hidden somewhere. I'll get to it eventually. Or I wont.

And to the point (five years late)

Yay, we're saved!

La La Land propagates white supremacy thinly veiled as trying to revive a dying art form, with your typical white savior trope, being portrayed innocently enough, ala typical hardships and enduring relationships 

"you cannot be proud of being white & not be a racist. it's a tautology. you can be proud of your irish heritage. you can be proud of your german heritage. you can be proud of your lutheran heritage or your appalachian roots or your large italian family's sunday gravy tradition. you cannot be proud of your *white* heritage b/c there is no such thing. whiteness only exists as a power relationship. a system of domination is not a culture to take pride in unless you are an asshole." - k.m.

One of the ways in which whiteness maintains its dominance is by defining itself as the standard by which other things are judged. The conceptual output of most marketers, advertisers, and Hollywood executives based their output toward is on standards developed ideally for white people.  Because culture of dominance, it subsumes other races and cultures into it; literally everyone within a white supremacist society interacts with and experiences whiteness. Only some are able to benefit from it; many (most?) suffer from its exclusion of, exploitation of, oppression of, repression of their existence.

Jazz was born in New Orleans, without European based roots.  As renowned Caucasian crusader Ryan Gosling states, the people didn't even speak the same language. He doesn't mention they weren't white. He doesn't mention that most of their ancestors were stolen from their homes and shipped across the Atlantic to be enslaved. He doesn't mention that jazz, as most things, was appropriated by white musicians, and white record executives and white club owners and white listeners joined this trend. When  actually confronted (yes, confronted) with the blandness of Kenny G, he blathers about passion and emotion and what have you, but he doesn't bring up (avoids) appropriation, history or how race played the biggest part in it all.

If a scenario, a scene, or whatever, requires a particular perspective, that is fine and dandy. However, some people will dismiss something as "too white." That is not always a fair assessment. Though I do not digress to say; this film is too white. This is not a landmark achievement in cinema in any way; this is a blatant showing of no awareness of its cultural appropriation. This is a clear sidelining of every person of color. This is an obvious presentation of two main characters who are adorable instead of impactful, whose entire stories are obvious, and predictable. Bland faces on bland plots on bland concepts, yet lauded and loved and celebrated and awarded for n artform otherwise and frequently downplayed or dismissed (I wonder why). This film steals mythologies from black musicians and sets a white guy as your typical righter of wrongs then only a non-ahem-colored could do. Not to mention the chastisement of a black character for his fuckery of trying to make a poppier version of the sound...irony at its worst.

The film draws brilliantly from classical musicals. While the dance numbers and voices might not hold up, the spirit of old is certainly there in that sense. Despite the picking and choose and, dare I say it once more, the appropriation of oppressed people and histories like they're taffy flavors from a candy store, the effort definitely was there. The shots were masterful, and there were many beautiful views.

But to see this as anything other than a product of whiteness to crowd please, is ignorant. . 

So if all you could take from this is some "well what about" point you're just dying to get out, instead of the point its making, then maybe the written word is not for you. Perhaps stick to...movies.

Tik Tok is bae, and other reason's gays caused 9-11

I have seen the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness. I have seen mountain sides crumble, and whole forests burn. Old mines explode and the air filled with smoke that would frighten even creatures of darkness from hell. 

I have felt earthquakes that have ripped the strongest of human made foundations. A virus akin to the days of old cripple the economy of much the globe and pull my species down to its knees. The vacant and cowardly minded refusing chaos, insisting all must have intelligent planning, that everything is a conspiracy, and that no massacres ever occur. 

I have tasted the failure of will. A masked populace, refusing of circumstance yet ever so accepting of its consequences. Tweeting and memeing and...*cough* blogging about their refusal to submit, yet continuing to live as the very slaves they don't believe they are. 

I have heard sounds of blathering politicians who strive to make the world a darker, more dangerous place. All they do scrounge and hate, and vote in their interests, keeping big business and their own personal ideals the primary points of the legislation that effects our everyday life. The only people that are perhaps more repulsive are the businessman who run the Mormon church, the catholic priests who love the children so, and inner city cops who live to serve their white supremist masters.

Cynicism aside, one day the sun will explode, and all history of all our petty creations will mean nothing.

That's a positive, right?

Happy Black History Month, the shortest month of the year, which I am sure is a coincidence.

~X

Bloody Cape - Deftones

Typhoons - Royal Blood

I Can't Go for That (No Can Do) - Hall & Oates

Edifice of Tyranny - Ouroboros

I'm A Slave 4 U - Britney Spears

I came here to kick ass and chew platitudes, and I'm all out of gum

Hello to the internet again. It has been awhile. I don't know how many times exactly I have vanished then come back around. Space in between spurts of blog creativity increases. We're like the TOOL of blogs. You know, rare but brilliant output, pretentious, and we hate all of you.

Society and culture changes are occurring like it's a fucking industrial revolution or some shit. The time between change and innovation (or exnovation) decreasing, and thusly, we have avoided being on that forefront. I thought to myself, perhaps I could invest my intellectual capacity to doing some massive "since we've been gone" recap, hence stroking the cock that is my anti-political party yet politically conservative socially very liberal yet anti PC take on things, as if you, who is currently reading this on the internet, doesn't have the internet, and needs to be filled in.

So here it is, 10 points of discussion because blather blather blather;

1. People have died. More people should be dead. But different people. The people that killed the other dead people. But legally. And with rope, to save money. It should be hard for psychos and retards to get guns that kill non-psychos and retards.

2. I shouldn't say retard, but I did anyways. And I mean it in a different way then you're thinking, and you know better, but want to be butt hurt anyways. That's your problem.

3. Older rock bands and Hip hop artists have had the largest output of creativity since their original heydays, because most young people can only make rock and hip hop that sounds overly poppy and accessible garbage noise because they want to play it safe, and the younger artists who create with heart don't find success because they want to do it the way their older, established heroes did, but it doesn't work like it did back then, anymore. Ironically, those older bands do better with social media.

4. White hipster people are worse then white, outright racist people because they shout and protest, but the changing in the status quo frightens them as much as it does white supremacists, yet they spend more time treating minorities as monoliths that need to be paraded around instead of excepting them as different, flawed, and often more brilliant than them.

5. The current American President is a moron, a racist bigot, and a general all around piece of shit. If your excuse for liking him is an admiration of his abrasive behavior, him "telling it like it is", or the way he dumps on everyone, yet can't explain his economic policies, and don't care about him dismantling your health care, well, you're a retard. See number 2.

6. Obama use to blow up villages filled with non-combatant women and kids with flying death robots, and had worse immigration policies. Even if you also are not a fan of the current president, don't forget that little tidbit

7. Comedians are becoming a source of trusted news and  moral guidance for a lot of people, and that's just...funny?

8. The view is fox news for liberal flibbertigibbets.

9. Nickelback still sucks.

10. Most importantly, I just heard that "Baby Shark" Song for the first time today, and now I hate children.

Please don't sue me. Not because of the moral ineptitude of bastardizing a thing that makes kids happy. But because I have no money.

I hope everyone is well. Well enough to fuck off.

~Xavier R.

Playlist 8-9-2019

Lovely Day - Bill Withers

Never Swim Alone - Death From Above (Formerly Death From Above 1979)

Peg - Steely Dan

Drop - The Pharcyde

Stacked Actors - Foo Fighters

Hate Speech is the American Way.

I have an unpopular opinion. Not only do I think hate speech is an inherently good and healthy thing, but I think anyone who disagrees with me should be summarily executed and their family should be sent to internment camps to bind copies of Mein Kampf, Das Kapital and Twilight for no fewer than three generations.

Now, am I some sort of evil fuck? Debatable. I'll tell you what I am for sure: a god damn patriot who takes the hardest of hard lines on free speech.

There are some that say hate speech is harmful or even violence. I say these people are degenerates in need of free helicopter rides, or at the very least need to go to the free speech publishing gulags. Their contention is that what we say unduly effects everyone around us, especially "marginalized groups" because they can't bear to hear what people think of them.

I think if you're so easily hurt you're just the chattel I'll need to feed my roving packs of right-wing cannibal death-squads after the nuclear holocaust.

The progressive left can wag it's finger at people like me who think free speech should be a monolithic absolute but they don't know the slope they've doused in KY. They've defined hate speech so broadly that anyone can be accused of bigotry, and given that the newest generation could be my freedom loving, human hunting, army of death, this dog you've trained could very well bite you in the ass. 

You see, princess, you can call us racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, islamophobic, crazed death cultists, rapists, murders, cannibals, etc, etc. You can ban us on social media. You can even throw us in jail for saying what we think. We're not going to stop believing what we believe. At the very best we're going to go underground. But we're still here, all around you. We still hate you. You've just twisted the social contract to make us hate you politely.

So I ask "why be polite?" put all this shit on front street. Know thy neighbor. Know thy enemy. Strengthen your arguments. Thicken your skin.

Buck up. Don't be such a sniveling cunt.

Warlord of the Wastes,
Big Mike.

The earth is flat, Santa is real, and vaccines make children retarded

What is wrong with people? A lot of things it seems. God, knowing that some of these individuals belong to the same species as yours truly makes me lathargic, because why would I want to be outside when those...people...are out and about. Gah.

Perhaps there is hope yet. Maybe I'll stop with the cynicism, and jump on Trump's yugely big dong train, eat artisan foods, and listen to rock without guitars and hip hop with rappers who mumble. Or maybe, to fight apathy I'll take a bunch of vitamins and then blog about how everything sucks. Ah yes, the latter.

Oh yeah, global warming is gonna kill us all.

That being said, I've been able to have some very fruitful conversations with some of the sort of people that, whilst having extremely contrasting ideas from me, can actually discuss their ideas articulately, provide where they found their logic, and not just shout popular talking points that they embrace just because they aren't mainstream. I feel that type of united idea belief is how we avoid thing like, you know, murdering the fuck out of eachother.

However, I will say, whilst the ability to be united in sharing ideas is vital, if there is imperical evidence that comes from multile sources, using the argument "well that's what they 'claim' " doesn't count as an actual counter argument. Otherwise nothing is decisive and everything is pointless. 

But only a sith deals in absolutes.

Man, shut up. 

~Xavier R.

If bullshit politics were genitals, we'd all be getting laid

God damn it I am tired of all of these headlines about our government being a bunch of cocksuckers. I'm not saying that these things should be hidden from us, it's just a damn crying shame that there's so much of this nonsense going around, that it has to be plastered on every damn media outlet the world over. Come to think of it, me bitching about it makes it one in the same.

Now, scandals and such aside, a big problem with political ideals is that they are hard to argue. Not so much the actual concepts, but in some parts of the countries certain things are so ingrained into the local psyche, that you might as well tell a poor televangelist that jesus was actually just a jello cup. It won't get you anywhere.

There are some things that seem so obvious, that it causes absurdity when it's disagreed with. A big one with liberals, is absolute equality. The big case of the day, being homosexuality.

Now personally, I do not see how one can make a choice to be gay or straight, beyond just choosing to act out in a certain way randomly. So calling it a lifestyle, to me, is ridiculous. Yet time and time again, these people are chastised,  beaten, denied basic rights, etc. If they are good, decent human beings, then they shouldn't be denied anything.

However, American conservatism, often rooted in archaic religion (christianity) states homosexuality as an ultimate sin, thusly it damages society in general to allow it.

Now a big one with conservatives, is fiscal responsibility. Now, Israel, religious matters and the whole Medicare scandal aside, programs tend to be paid for without proper, long term backing properly planned out when a more liberal government is in charge. Such as constant debt ceiling lifting, funds pulled from either inflation or fed borrowing. This causes a bunch of fussing, and yada yada, we all suck.

So what am I trying to get across with all this?

Nothing, because it's pretty much pointless.

What I can say further, though, is that if something hurts, don't fucking do it, even if not doing so goes against some type of doctrine that's been force fed to you forever. For example, If your kids are sick and dying, put medicine inside them, instead of dancing along with bullshit populist nonsense. Because if it seems like a bad idea, you know, dead kids and all, I'm sure it is a bad idea.

Now, while in the editing process for the post, Big Mike suggests I really drive my cynicism home (if the cynical approach is what I'm trying to take) something like "whatever, all politicians, left or right, are just child raping vampires. Fuck your political wing and fuck you too."

So yeah, the whole thing is fucked. There are some good ideas. Some good philosophies. The whole discussion is moot though, because it really is all pointless and we're all a bunch of stupid, murderous rape monkeys with smart phones and sneakers which won't matter when the sun explodes and kills everyone anyway in a righteous solar cleansing. Personally, I am hoping for the sun melting and not incineration. We will see. 

Man o man do I miss the poop jokes of my late teens/early 20s. I wasn't so concerned about much, besides how many tourist chicks I could bang, or where I could find some pot. Though I do now feel the effects of things like a bad economy and institutionalized racism like never before, maybe I shouldnt call it "concern". After all, I'm just a murderous rape monkey with a smart phone and sneakers.

~X

I think I'm going to throw up.

So I was informed just hours ago, that for some years now, a mobile app has existed for blogger. Now, while apathy and lack of creative juices obviously played a part in many months of silence, the void of equipment needed had also caused many drawbacks. Oh well, hindsight is a bunch of numbers or whatever. That also means that I'll be able to log on more often now, and talk about stuff and things while dropping a duece. Which I could be doing now, you don't know.

Anyhoo...

There is a lot of things that I do relatively well. I'm a pretty good musician, not a terrible boxer, a decent writer, and of course a world class lover. However, something in particular, which may or may note cause more problems then it does glory, so how I am a champion drinker. 

Just so there's no misunderstanding to the classy toddlers that read this;

Alcohol, not apple juice.

One of the beautiful things that alcohol does, is loosen you up in a way that deletes the concerns for the future. That way, besides losing the fear of rejection and that social retardation just slipping away, by golly once you hit the sweet spot, that level you strove for, you don't even care that you'll probably be tossing spaghetti chunks out your mouth hole.

Now, another just lovely thing about this poison is that it's cheap. Well, it can be cheap. If the need to drown your woes is ever pulsating in your weak mortal skull, it's good to know that after a bus ride and a 10 spot with a couple of singles, you can find yourself embracing a half gallon of vodka swill while crying on your couch watching adult cartoons.

Now, being like a true champ, a barron of bad shits, a duke of dying D cells, comes with a lot of responsibility. You have to constantly be on a charm offensive, so that you don't seem out of the ordinary. What does that mean?

Well, have you ever gone on a walk into town for a cheeseburger, but your legs felt like goo, everything was hilarious, and you just didn't give a fuck? Well that's called having the drunk munchies. Now, driving like this is the purest form of retardation, so no drive through for you. You must be face to face. However, you can't just laugh and stumble around, then stare at the order taker's tits. You have to compliment them, too. You also need to keep a smile of your face while you do an erotic jig. See? Charm.

Then, when you run into some type of authority figure, such as a cop or your dumb wife, you can't just fall over next to them and blame the wind (though as a last resort it might not hurt). You need to be able to carry yourself with a certain level of dignity so that, with either person, you don't end up in a cage eating shitty food. 

Now me in particular, I am what you call a pro. I practically wrote the book on having yourself a responsible drink from time and time. Sure, I've needed to reprint that book a couple dozen times because I either piss or puke on the one prior, but so what? Sure, I've gone empty handed with the ladies at bars a bunch, but they don't call me the bi-annual 10 slammer for nothing. I'm practically every quote from some stupid book about being cool that you've ever even considered reading. 

Perhaps it doesn't help that being drunk causes bad eating habits, among other serious health issues. You can always remember though, that eating cheeseburgers is fucking awesome. What do doctors know anyways? They went to college, and college is for nerds. 

Haha, nerds.

So remember, while some nerd in a white coat might tell you that alcohol is killing a higher percentage of people every year, that you should slow down, and probably exercise more, but can still drink and have fun as long as you limit it to the weekends or perhaps just celebrations, you tell them this;

No.

Because the world sucks, and God is dead.

~X

P.s. I hope you learned something. If not, I'm sorry you're too dumb to learn. If you did, I'm sorry you're dumb and needed to learn this.

Many a moon later, we present: Mental Anguish and stress nightmares

The most peculiar thing happened to my subconscious mind. I was plagued by the most wicked nightmares that were intermittent with random moments of graphic sex. Now, I'm not sure if it was the sudden political upheaval of the Turkish government (and the bloody battle that lead to it), the theft of my Mother's golden Marvel superhero statuettes, the raiding of my house by murderous boy scouts, the gain of love then lost of trust by the woman I'm infatuated with, or, god damn it, the rampant drug use. However, when I woke up this morning, I was feeling a little uneasy.

Now, often times I will be able to tie in my real life situation into nightmares I'm having, because usually your conscious mind can either translate into your dreams, or you can at least dream slightly of the future given situations that you, again, have experienced whilst awake. These things I dreamed of, however, I could not quite find my inner self's motivation for.

With nightmares I have noticed though, it usually pertains to fears on an emotional level. Big scary monsters and ghosts and the like usually don't work on me, so my inner self finds other things. Often times, if you notice about even yourself, there is no actually correlation (or at least immediately) however you still exude those feelings of dread.

Or, fuck it, who knows. Maybe my evil twin Teddy is at it again with poisoning my coffee.

This shall surely affect my inheritance!

That being said, with the introduction of me relocating to a new home for both my well being and for work, I find myself with a new home office. I feel like writing again. I think I will. Hopefully not about nightmares that have me waking up feeling like I just survived a nuclear war.

Or maybe I will. I just reread the works of Kafka not long ago. Who knows what I'm capable of...

Getting another cup of coffee, that's what.

~Xavier R.

Book Report: Chuck Palahniuk's "Invisible Monsters"

"Nothing of me is original, I am the combined effort of everyone I've ever known."

 Invisible Monsters is Chuck Palahniuk's third published novel and tells the story of an up-and-coming fashion model horribly disfigured by a stray bullet that leaves her horribly disfigured. Her jaw is gone, unable to talk, she goes from being the center of attention to a horrible monster no one can bear to look at. She embarks on a road trip with a stunning transsexual and her ex fiance to steal drugs and hormones from rich old people's open houses.

 The story itself is deceptively simple though it jumps schizophrenically between four different points in the story: the model with her parent's during holidays, modeling with her best friend, her in the hospital after the accident and on the road with the other two characters getting into shenanigans. I did seem to predict the larger plot points and twists, being familiar with Palahniuk's work. Also, I did miss his novel writing quirks present in his later works (like the oral biography in Rant or the epistolary screeds of Pygmy). I'd still say give it a read. You'll either love it or hate it.

 Plot and Characters aside, the Themes really shine here. Much like Fight Club, the central theme seems to be self destruction, whereas it seems the narrator had something to prove in his slow decent into madness and domestic terrorism, the cast of Invisible Monsters seem hell bent on doing nothing but spiting their parents. They know they're not original, a copy of a copy of a copy, so instead of trying to meet the expectations of their parents (who, like in Fight Club, are also analogous to God) and society, they try instead to be monsters in their own respective ways in a desperate attempt to be original.

All in all, I'd say it was pretty good. I'm not much of a fashionista, so if you're really not interested in our jaw-less protagonist talking for page after page about what the other characters are wearing like Tyler Durden talked about saponification and explosives, just skim it like I did. I don't think I missed much.

As a note, I'd like to say these were my impressions after reading the straight novel version of Invisible Monsters, not the Remix version, which is a retooling with late era Palahniuk's characteristically ergodic flair. I'm looking forward to that, for sure.

Love,
Big Mike.

Straight from the headlines! (Or the gutters)

Tonight, it will be decided who the two primary knuckleheads running for President Of The United States Of America will be. Are you excited? I hope not, because the likeliness of a viable candidate who has minimal self interest, proper experience, a caring attitude, and looks fresh in a one piece is pretty damn close to impossible. Sheer folly I say. Sheer folly!

Soak it all in. Try not to cum too quickly.

~Xavier R.

p.s.

Vote carefully. Its important to know which garbage can your ballot is going to be tossed into.

EDIT* 2-3-2016 So apparently I stated what would occur incorrectly. The party selections haven't happened quite yet, but the sentiment stands.

PLAYLIST 2-1-2016

Out Of The Black - Royal Blood

Tom's Diner - Suzanne Vega

Boys Wanna Be Her - Peaches

Spiderbite - Jerry Cantrell

Goodbye Pork Pie Hat (Charles Mingus Cover) - Jeff Beck

In the depraved genius lump of goo of mine known as a brain

Hello.

Drinking Alcohol gets you drunk
Eating too much food makes you fat
Writing words makes a story
Talking points are used for articles

I have eaten a lot of trail mix today. It is because I was hungry, and put too much hot sauce in my regularly scheduled breakfast.

I am older now.

Just remember this parting wisdom;

Large athletic men crashing into each other while an oddly shaped ball is tossed up and down a muddy grass field is prime time entertainment.

~Xavier R.

Playlist 1-18-2016

A Day At The Races - Jurassic 5

Scars - X Japan

Grandma Dynamite  - 24-7 Spyz

Servitude - Fishbone

Here's Lookin' At You Babe - Dr. Madd Vibe (Angelo Moore)

Conservatives Worship A Liberal Jesus (Apparently)

The United States of America, or 'Murica, in some circles, is a predominately Christian nation. While I do my best to talk about fairly universal things, I am more familiar with this particular religion, so, uh, whatever.

That being said, I want to say something before I start. I have a lot of unique and odd views with religion and spirituality, however I am a Christian. Now, I don't say that to defend myself from the bitchy horde that is the internet, I say it so that you can take it into consideration during the non-bias(non-bias-ish) elaboration. 

If Jesus was alive today, there is no way he could be a pastor of an evangelical church or a Catholic bishop. Evangelicals and conservative Catholics live off of making the distinction between their undeniable "truths" against the failings of their followers, whereas in contrast, Jesus was all about empathy and forgiveness. It's peculiar when atheists follow concepts of the gospel far better than many Christians. 

An example from "Why I Am An Atheist Who Believes In God: How To Give Love, Create Beauty And Find Peace" by Frank Schaeffer:

"Put it this way: Godless non-church-going Denmark mandates four weeks of maternity leave before childbirth and fourteen weeks afterward for mothers. Parents of newborn children are assisted with well-baby nurse-practitioner visits in their homes. In allegedly Pro-life and family friendly American Bible belt, conservative political leaders slash programs designed to help women and children while creating a justifying mythology about handouts versus empowerment."

In 'Murica, the poor are now part of what these very conservative individuals see as the problem, moochers and takers, and many side with today's also conservative media, attacking the poor while claiming it is following the Bible. So how exactly is the following the same Jesus of the Bible?

So it's as if there is that particular choice of actually following the ideals of a Hippie Pacifist Socialist Jew, or a book of contradiction.

Think about Jesus' conflicting issues with the religion that he had been a part of at the time. The Torah would say a particular something, but then he would say whatever else as part of his preaching. Against the written law of his religion, he favored empathy over it. Whenever he would undermined it,  it was of suffering love. A very liberal lifestyle. As a non-saved humanist, he would even be denied sacrament.

Kung-Fu anime Jesus don't need no wafers

So what is a Christian? Is it a follower of Christ's ideals, or a member of an organization with specific goals that go to the contrary?

You decide.

Or let your Conservative church decide, you lazy hobo loving sinner.

~Xavier R.

Playlist 1-8-2015

Peace Train - Cat Stevens

Low - Cracker

Breakfast At Tiffany's - Deep Blue Something

Bring Da Ruckus - Wu-Tang Clan

Daft Punk Is Playing At My House - LCD SOundsystem

I see the colors

I don't deny
That I understand
What is in at the moment
Full of holes
Check for them
Make your eyes
They wont forget
Take for now

I've no idea how we got here
I'm trying to displace this body again
But I can't get out

You can sound
Live back down
Call invitations
In the edges
I'ts alright

I've no idea why you are so tired
You know stuff in the way
Sunrise is all its about

There's a light cut out for you
There's a light cut out for me
There's a chance for this life
There's a chance of this for us
For all I can go
Apartment by the sea
The skin is burning
The skin is failing
Can you feel that good shit, man?
Can you feel that twisting me?

I want to go back
I want back
I'm back, I'm back
I wanna go back I'm back
I want back, I'm back

I see the colors, I see the colors, I see the colors, I see the colors

~Xavier R.

Playlist 1-5-2016

Ghost Mountain - Barrett Martin Group

Santeria - Sublime

Goodbye Pork Pie Hat - Charles Mingus

Walkin' On The Sun - Smash Mouth

Key&Peele Theme Song - Reggie Watts

My New Years Resolution (And why you shouldn't care)

O.k. So, I want to stop eating tasty food that makes me happy, stop drinking alcohol (which makes me sociable), and exercise a whole lot more instead of relax before and after a mentally draining job, and focus on the more grueling parts of my fun music career.

That's my new years resolution.

Here is the problem;

There is no problem.

Photo of me on Christmas eve. OK, maybe a little bit of a problem.

I will likely lose a lot of weight for health reasons, and also it makes it easier to prance around on stage as a performer. However, give up delicious rice and potatoes completely? Fuck you.

I will cut down on drinking, obviously, because when I'm drunk too many days in a row, I tend to talk too much and break things, and that's bad. But no cocktails on my birthday or at a concert? Again, fuck you.

And exercise, ah yes. I should go on morning jogs, of course. I should lift some weights after work, sure. But my boxing career (which hardly existed) is over, and I'm not joining the marines anytime soon. So, fuck you.

Working harder on promotion and recording for my music? Well, that obviously needs to improve. Fuck you anyways.

I say "Fuck you" after each bit because people always seem to set these expectations out loud, for the rest of the world. I don't do those things for you, I do them for me. So, I have decided to be a hypocrite and tell you about it anyways.

Why?

Because fuck you. That's why.

~Xavier R.

Playlist 12-28-2015

I'm Your Super Glue - Tenement

Future People - Alabama Shakes

Caffeinated Consciousness - Tv On The Radio

Stabbed In The Face - Wolf Eyes

Screen Shot - Swans

Suppose They Gave a Star War and Nobody Came

You and I both know that the new Star Wars movie is going to make a obscene amount of money, I'd say they'd literally be "raking it in" but that would be wrong; even if they changed all the money they'll make into thousand dollar bills there is still not a rake big enough in this plane of existence to rake it "in" in an expedient matter. The chips have already fallen and they're confident the movie is going to make a billion fucking dollars. With ridiculous cross promotion everywhere (collector's edition Star Wars Band-Aid tins anyone?), TV and internet ads and advanced ticket sales kicking the internet in the head, it's impossible to imagine a world where this movie won't make more than the GDP 27 countries. But a man can dream, no?

Better start cutting yourself kids. This bizarre compulsion to collect tins of Band-Aids isn't going to rationalize itself! 

So if the average American movie ticket is around $8.38 and the budget for the movie itself is $200 million; if less than twenty-three-point-nine million people watched it in theaters it wouldn't recoup its budget. This is obviously flawed math, as it doesn't take into account foreign markets, home entertainment, merchandise and the $4 billion Disney spent buying Lucasfilm in the first place. Though I still think people not watching Star Wars in theaters is a step in the right direction, it's really beyond my capabilities to say what will make the evil Disney empire fall.

In all this how you may be asking yourself why I want the new Star Wars (and therefore Mickey, Minnie, Goofy et al.) to fail. Disney is creatively bankrupt, decedent and a cancer on our culture. Disney, at their most creative just makes Shakespeare plays into movies about talking animals. Now they seem content merely with beating the dead horses named Marvel and Star Wars. They're making their money off of the backs of franchises made famous by people far more creative then them. I just think it's a behavior we shouldn't condone with our money.

Disney must pay for their sins.

Then again, I'm probably going to watch it too. Fuck it, boycott Star Wars or don't, I don't care. All I really want to see is Mickey Mouse cry into a glass of his Macallan '39 and hang a rope from a rafter.

Love,
Big Mike.

P.S. By the way, did you hear there are black people in it? Hopefully America is as racist as Tumblr says it is, and our amorphous white male patriarchal systems of oppression will trigger it out of existence.

Sleep tight!

SciFi Sandwich

With the impending release of the new Star Wars Movie, Star Wars: The Force Awakens, even the closet scifi fans are coming out in force (pun not intended). Of course, most will enjoy a movie that is part of the most famous cinematic series of all time, but some will rant about a genre and film series they actually know nothing about, bitching about how anti-White Jewish activist J.J. Abrams (Caster of Black Leads, hater of the Christians, and eater of children) is going to fuck everything up. Fuck it up worse then even the Prequel trilogy, which apparently made hundreds of millions of dollars each for no reason.

"Thanks a lot Disney! Boycott!" One of the many shouts they yell from their mother's trailer roof.

We want your money...and your soul.

It really is a repeating process with these people. First J.J. Abrams is a pig for accepting to direct films in both universes, then he is part of a conspiracy to cast ethnic leads to apparently destroy the white race. Sorry for the changing status quo, everyone.

Oldie but goodie

What is funny to me, is how this type of white-genocide politics and...hoo haw...doesn't exist in any of the universes in which these people are bitching about. Take Star Trek, a classic for many decades, had a multi racial cast because the creators realized that in a future of unity and putting the strongest foot forward, that would come from all sorts of backgrounds. And think realistically; You view any alien species from any book, comic, t.v. show, or movie, and you don't view them as particularly different, except maybe minor differences from genetic variation or maybe the climate of the area that they came from. Sound familiar?

"But having a black lead is playing into being politically correct!"

How? Fucking how? He merely got the god damn part. But of course it's affirmative action, even though he is English...

John Boyega at his audition for his Debut Movie,"Hit The Block"

John Boyega, the focus of these people's spite plays Fin, the storm trooper turned Jedi (I guess?) in the new Star Wars trilogy. What is interesting though, he doesn't even get guff from his capabilities as a thespian. You know, classically trained, theater and screen, critically acclaimed, which I'm sure Jim-bob backwater scifi fan (Dukes of Hazard is scifi, right?) is all green over. It's just the poison of his pigment. (Black, in case you weren't following.)

But let us not forget Hayden Christensen.

You'll always be Darth to me, pretty boy.

Hated for his wooden acting and his general creepiness (he was to be the lord of the Sith, so a criticism I never quite got.), he stands as despised for his roll, despite the massive success of the movies that he starred in brought to the pockets of George Lucas and...uh...whoever else. In all fairness though, mouth breathing scifi geeks and basement dwellers the world over would likely have hated a young Marlon Brando in the roll, because that's just the way they are.

So with either lack of information or a hatred of anything new, which leading character do we all feel would come out on top? Well, here at Spanky's Art House Porno theater, we actually got an exclusive. We Sat John Boyega and Hayden Christensen down, and gave them some peach schnapps. The results? Well...

May the force be in you

Yeah.

~Xavier R.

Let My Insecurities Dictate The Art You Enjoy.

Allow me to let you in on a little secret, gentle reader. I don't give a fuck how you feel. My compatriot doesn't give a fuck about how you feel either. We're hard pressed as it stands to give one iota of a fuck about what you think or what your opinions are, but we really couldn't give a subatomic fuck about how offended you feel. 

Personally, this little website is for me to put up my half baked opinions and silly short stories up for posterity. I don't really feel any shame or embarrassment for the things I write so I figure fuck it, why not put it up for the world to see?

Xavier and I really do appreciate your commentary, good and bad (Frankly, most of the time it's negative) because it tells us you at least read us. We love people who hate our shit and act disrespectfully because they're fun to fuck with. We're also open to having our ideas challenged if a reasoned debate is your thing. The internet is a great place to engage with creative types, their fans, detractors and hecklers and should remain a place for the free expression of all.

However, something I will never abide by is people who think the world should coddle them and keep them safe from their own insecurities and use this as a reason to call art they don't like whatever "ism" they think will silence it. People like this always say they aren't being "Censors" but that they're just critiquing popular culture. I disagree. The problem with you people (yes, I do mean you people) is you never seem to look at a piece of art on it's artistic merits but how "diverse" it is. As if "diversity" is an artistic statement in and of itself.

If there are "too many" men and not enough women the piece of art is sexist.
If there are "too many" white people and not enough "people of color" the piece of art is racist.
If there are "too many" straight people and not enough gay people the piece of art is homophobic.
If there are "too many" trim, healthy people and not enough overweight people the piece of art is fatphobic.
If there are "too many" cisgendered people and not enough transsexuals or nonbinary zhes and zhers, the piece of art is transphobic.

What would happen if I made the perfect, socially conscious movie about a gay, trans, three hundred pound woman of color? Of course you sloppy, over sensitive clit mounds would still cry foul. If your pet minority has representation, then it's invariably (in your expert estimation) represented poorly or negatively. "It's a stereotype!" you'll cry "We gay, trans three hundred pound women of color don't act like that at all!"

Wait, so you're saying you want the characters in books, comics, movies and video games to act like "normal" human beings? Why then do you feel you can't relate to the characters the people with actual artistic talent create? It's almost as if creating art, or more over, DICTATING to artists what quotas and social-justice-checklists would make you feel better doesn't make for good art.

I've said this to people who whine about the lack of diversity in a piece of art before: If you don't like it, don't consume it, make your own. Get off your special snowflake ass to make art you feel "validates" your "lived experience". If that's too hard and want to critique something you don't like instead; do it on it's artistic merits. I'll be right there with you. Calling something sexist, racist, homophobic, fat-phobic or trans-phobic because it doesn't pass your wholly subjective and arbitrary litmus test though is not a critique, that's just you being a whimpering cunt.

Just because an artist doesn't put gays, black people, fat people, trans folk or women in their art does not mean they hate those groups of people. However, if you do think that then I hate you.

Love,
Big Mike.

"I Sat Rahnd The Haass Wankin'!"

I did it you lovely, anonymous whiners and wankers, I've gotten employed! How cool is that? I feel the light at the end of the tunnel and I'm almost 100% positive it's not a train. Yeah buddies!

In matters of the Porno Theatre, I have good news about writing... but first I'd like to tell you about flash fiction. Y'see, if you look at most of my fiction it's all very brief and vague and I'll admit it kinda shitty. I'm not afraid to admit I've been influenced greatly by the author Etgar Keret and much like my other early-twenties obsessions (Tom Waits, Charles Burns comics, Marijuana) they influenced my work, for better or for worse. Thing is no one but writers give a shit about stories under 500 words.

Even though these vignettes and snippets of stories as they stand today bring me great shame; they will still stand as a monolith, much like a eleven-year-old's boner in gym shorts. While I find these stories personally cringey I still see potential in them. The stories I see room to grow will get my tender love and abuse, and around 5000 more words.

As a matter of fact, I'm working on a burly first draft of a story loosely based on my original short-story entry to the Hallowed Halls of the Great Porno Theatre, in Spanky's name (Sleaze Be Upon Him) and through it's carefully crafted exposition and context will be the story I always meant to write but was too stoned to.

Good times ahead, ladies and gentlemen.

Love,
Big Mike.

Spanky of the Art House (Sleaze Be Upon Him)

Mary Forsberg is a cunt

Not only is she a cunt, she is as selfish as the man she bitterly chastises in death, if not worse.

You see, Mary Forsberg is the ex-wife of the late singer Scott Weiland, the very Scott Weiland I referenced just the other day.

Mary, you see, penned an open letter to rolling stone about the impact of him and his life and death on her and her kids. You can read it here.

My Response To Mary;

While the frustration that he wasn't there and the anger that the finances given from those who didn't appreciate the severity of his issues kept his destruction train rolling, I didn't see you turning down checks and getting a different job to support your kids. I recall you publishing a book still using his surname in bold print, and titling it after one of his biggest hit songs.

I recall you shooting up with him in the early nineties, encouraging infidelity against his first wife, and allowing yourself to get impregnated by a man you found to be so erratic and crazy. You didn't do shit to stop the madness then, when you were riding his gravy train of a dick.

Instead of coming across as someone who should be taking the feelings of her children into consideration, you come across as a bitter woman who is thinking only of herself. It definitely is easier to chastise and berate a person who is gone, instead of when they are here, and not use all the resources they have given you. If you saw he wasn't there for the first child, why would you go and have another one him?

Yeah, he was a drug riddled, whisky swilling rockstar. Not all continue down that path once they have kids, but he did. Yet there you were, not actually doing shit to stop it.

Don't try to tell me that you aren't trying to tear down his legacy for the millions he has touched with his talent and entertainment capabilities. That is exactly what you are doing. Encouraging people to look down on those who exert themselves as an artist, after you have drained him dry, of course.

(s)he without sin cast the first stone.

You have no right to be such a hypocrite, Mary.

The energy you put towards your bitter rant would be better fuel for teaching your kids the values of sobriety and loving those who depend on you, not taking away the only good that your ex-husband gave to the world. You could have just given a warning only on the neglect of a selfish drug addict, and a warning to really care for your kids. But you took it too damn far.

Mary Forsberg, you are a cunt.

~Xavier R.

p.s. I wouldn't say anyone is glorifying this tragedy, I would say that we are just acknowledging his impact.

p.s.s. I hope your kids do well. You also, until they no longer live with you. Then you can fuck off.

Development in progress, still(born)

Below is the precursor for a story I've been working on for the past four years called "My Friend the Machine", of which you will notice in the header. It comes from a dream I had some years ago. I had made this post as soon as I had the dream, and called it "Dreamscape I". It was incorporated into the story I've been developing as a mixture of past memory and fantasy.

I was at the house I use to live in before my current, with a few of my friends, one of whom was merely an acquaintance, another a small child.

As my friends and I carelessly played video games on the couch, my "acquaintance"  friend tried getting our attention several times in vain. Finally, he says,

"You guys, the sky, it's freezing where rays of light are normally suppose to shine through!" Finally, I get up to go check, and sure enough, exactly that was happening. In fact, it was as if the atmosphere was freezing, and the freezing sky was spreading. I say to the others

"Really you guys, you need to check this out." Soon they all were seeing, and all started to panic. Being equally scared but calm as a monk, I say

"Don't worry. Even if it all started breaking and falling towards us, by the time it reached us, it would barely do anything at all." This calmed them, and they went back to their video games. Finally, a news report came about the radio (though we didn't have a radio on) and told us that the atmosphere was indeed freezing over, and that they knew nothing of it beyond that.

This caused another round of panic among my friends (the acquaintance who was the panicking the least), and again I reassure them if the sky does indeed fall, (and right then the acquaintance reminds us of the heat caused by acceleration) it will be of very little danger of us, and by looking at it, might not even hit us. (For right there I'd like to point out that the frozen sky looked frozen in large chunks in every direction, but in between the chunks, weren't cracks in the ice, but seams clear of being frozen.)

The ice did eventually crack, however, and exploded, falling unto the world. They began another round of panic, but the acquaintance and I did not. We instead had very amused looks on our face, which the rest found hilarious, and again went back to their video games.

When it did hit us, it was as a thick bombardment of snow. The sliding glass door was open, however, and the snow spilled in, covering the before mentioned child, who was asleep on the floor. I quickly clear him of it. Afterwards I stand up and tell the acquaintance that this is like one of those post-apocalyptic stories we always wished to be apart of as kids. He laughed and agreed.(After this point, the child never appears in the story again, and the "acquaintance" vanishes to go explore, but doesn't tell us.)

A feeling of accomplishment washes over me. I realize that even in an ending world, I can still keep my cool and direct those around me, despite being just as scared. I do not let it control me. I merely acknowledge its existence.

They go about playing video games once more, until the radio comes on again. It goes on about how the atmosphere has been destroyed, and that the world will reach a melting point and then be destroyed. Everyone looks at me in confusion and horror (a responsibility I hardly want) and I shush them down.

(the following is a bit hazy, and I guess 15%-25% of the filler that is not obvious to be important is probably fictional, in regards to the dream, that is.)

A couple girls come into the house at this point, most likely thinking it is a safe place to be. (now that I think about it as I write, probably because the "acquaintance" told them about our calm demeanor and our resources.) I care very little about this, except for the fact that with them is this redhead, who once I see I fall instantly in love with. Her smile makes all the fear inside me go away. I feel an overwhelming warmth. (It should be mentioned, that my girl chatting tendencies usually point me in the directions of apathy or awkwardness. However whenever I see "HER", which has happened a few times, I become indestructible in  will and thought, until either I ultimately succeed or fail.)

I try try to get her to stay with me. But she wont do it. She says she has a boyfriend to get back to. (who I learn, without being told or ever seeing, is one of my friend Jon's cousin) Uncaring, I tell her to forget him, and stay with me. She playfully refuses, and leaves safety.

The acquaintance returns. I ask him what the outside world is like (as I do so, the sky, and everything else outside, has turned completely white). He looks at me, filled with dread, and says nothing. He was pale as a ghost, and I could tell, that he had just given up. I looked around, and no one was left. Despite my sacrificing of humanity to shine fearless for them, seeing the "acquaintance" so wrecked wrecked them, too. They fled away to die. I was alone.

(I fear that particularly important, but unvital, parts of this last section were lost completely)

Chaos. Disorder. Panic. The streets and skies burned with the fears of people. It's funny, because our habitat around us changed drastically, maybe fatally so. But people didn't have to. People didn't need to behave like this. We could have stayed calm, and found a way to deal with it. But across the globe, there was utter pandemonium.

As I walk into town, I convince those I pass to calm down, and they listen. However it seems some retreat from my calming manner, so my efforts do very little. Eventually I make it to the house I lived in before the house at the beginning of the dream. A couple of my friends are there. I don't bother complaining about the fact that they had left a more secure location that was heavy in resources. I just sit. The radio chimes once more.

"It's all over..." and once again they flee. I don't try to stop them. All but one are never seen again. Though it wasn't technically my duty, I felt as though I had the capability of being a Shepard. Though I still did not let the fear consume me, I felt as though I could have stopped them from being fools. Could have stopped them from running like cowards. Though the enemy was not a directly physical one, I could have led them into battle against it. But I didn't. I failed.

I was in a car with the rapper Jay Z and his mom, and they were driving me to 7-11. I thanked them for the ride, and went inside to buy a slurpee. I suddenly have a used slurpee cup, and go over to the chaotically arranged counter, and tell the man that I would like a refill. (Which is silly, because you refill it yourself.) He mocks me in a frightening manner.

"Oh look at me, I need a refill. Lah dee da dee da." as he does a silly dance. Then glares at me. I realize a lot is terrible right now, so I should be grateful. Not that I didn't understand the chaos. I wasn't grateful, however, until right then. After a moment, he laughs a reassuring laugh. I fill it up my slurpee cup, and the man says something along the lines of

"God gives us this world, and we destroy it. He didn't have to share it with us. He has his friends in the sky, and we destroy them with our airplanes and disease." Though I was in complete agreement, I had the feeling that he might suddenly shoot me, so I say

"Praise to god." or something like that, and leave, without paying, which didn't seem to be a matter. I got back in Jay Z's car.

It was night. The world wasn't a piercing white anymore. The night view seemed normal, though chaos was still quite abounding. The driver of the car was suddenly my friend Jon.

As we went down the street, I saw the redhead again. It instantly became daytime. A normal daytime. I shouted out to her. I told her I could take care of her. She said that her boyfriend wouldn't LIKE that, hinting at violence, and she seemed almost happy about it, though I could detect fear in her. I had a feeling I'd see her again. I asked her for a kiss. She thought on it, but then ran over to the car to oblige. Jon re-positioned his now truck so that her approach would be easier, seemingly o.k. with the fact that I was trying to steal his cousin's girlfriend. He then, however, re-positioned his truck once more, and drove away, mentally telling me we have more important things to do. I suffered. It became night once more.

I was now in my moms car. As we drove down the street, I saw a lion, wandering about.
"Was that a fucking lion?"
"Yes." She replied. I was terrified. Not only for myself, but for anyone who would end up encountering it. Despite this feeling of terror, I wanted to stop and fight it. My mom kept driving.

Out of the blue, a cop car was on our tail.
"Shit, it's the cops." My mom says. His sex lights start-a-blinking, and my mom begins to drive faster.
"Mom, maybe you should pu..."
"No! We can't let them see there is a black man in the car until we reach a public place." I thought to myself, that I knew all the cops in town. They like me. They wouldn't hurt me. Now three cops were on her tail.
We now find ourselves, my mother and I, at the library, when it use to be under the city hall whilst the current one was under construction. There was a shoe section, where one could literally check out shoes. The cops found us as we looked about the shoes, and didn't question or search us, but in fact searched the shoe boxes and shoes around us. Frantically. After awhile, one of them finds a shoe as big as a computer, and laughs, saying
"Who the hell could fit into a shoe like this?"
"My friend Joe could." I say.
"Well he must have some big fucking feet. Hey, look at this picture frame." He hands me a picture frame, and I look at it, then hand it back.

"Anyways, sorry to bother you Mr. Rhone." And they leave. My mom and I sit there, confused, exhausted. She begins to talk, and in the moonlight I see a red dot on her head. I shove her face backwards.
"A laser!" Then blue ones appear on mine. We both take turns dodging the lasers, though no shots are being fired.
"The picture frame! It must have been so that they could target you through the windows easier!" She yells at me. We hide behind some crates. Though I can't hear it, I can feel that the building (which, now that I think about it, wasn't in public at all, but completely deserted ) is being surrounded. There is peace. Then machine gun fire tares through the walls and windows.

I retain my courage, and develop overwhelming determination, and vow a way out of this. I must see the redhead again. I must.

Then I woke up.

There reason why that dream was incorporated was because of its apocalyptic themes, which are prominent in the story itself. Though obviously in the story it is pieced together differently. Also, I chose to absorb a different short story I've been working on into the fold as well, which actually helps fill in some of the plot points I have been struggling with. So I hope you enjoyed this tidbit, and I shall be able to start posting under "My Friend The Machine" by the beginning of next year.

~Xavier R.