january 24, 2003

/buy me a river

i'm selling some shit at skylab commerce, destroying weeds clearing forests to pave new roads almighty.


and then wet eyes at the old fashioned theater to beautifully filmed scenes of charred shoes from non-survivors of large scale incarceration. colourful rituals, a large sea of sweatshop workers making me nervous as they efficiently trim the tabacco shavings, a pair of dirty scissors and a thin soiled fabric with aged patterns wrapped arond the upper portion of the head to perhaps protect the skull or maybe soak up sweat so it doesnt stain the eyes.

vast oil deposits bursting into flames juxtaposed with a fury of bagpipes and tribal drums, mimicking the familiar pattern of a heartbeat, in double time...a dark greyish tone that almost seems sickeningly orange.

but we've got barbie dolls and palm pilots and dildos and rifles and costco and lucky charms and life sustaining drugs and machine guns and zip disks and personal motorized devices of genital torture. not to mention the part time job that allows us such pearls.

this isnt cynicism it's progress folks.

> 3 reactions

january 23, 2003

/when working within a grid
x - true love

use visual patterns of space to communicate an idea or concept, and within these lines (systematic boundaries) we form subconcious boundaries that attempt to maximize the pleasure of a given or manipulated structure. in this space an image might emerge, powerful as a thousand cocked swords, yet subtle as the unicorn nightlight you used to have when you were just a few years old. "nubile" one might say.

> 1 reaction

january 17, 2003

/lets fuck our minds ok

Even if smog were a risk to human life, we must remember that life in nature, without technology, is wholesale death.

- ayn rand

> 6 reactions

january 15, 2003

/todays visual inspirations

egon schiele, self -portrait pulling cheek (1910)
gustav klimt, medicine (composition study) (1897-98)
aubrey brardsley, the toilet (1895-96)
alphonse mucha, job (1896)

(kaosboy is gay for art nouveau)

joel-peter witkin, poussin in hell (1999)
- the "anne rice of photography" according to salon.com

> 7 reactions

january 14, 2003

/metal is funny b/w metal rules
carcass - excoriating abdonminal emanation

to censure scathingly (for wads like me: to judge severly)

the part of the body between the thorax and the pelvis

the origination of the world by a series of hierarchically descending radiations from the Godhead through intermediate stages to matter

> react

january 9, 2003

/yo i'm pregnant!! soon
devastation - deliver the suffering

a day of opposites, family dinner night with my favourite pony & company, we went to the drafthouse to eat pizza and watch spirited away & i delightfully accepted a tall glass of beer accidentally delivered to our table. beer from the pitcher mmm delicious, and slowly but surely the colourful monsters on the screen seemed even more jovial and funny looking as i swam in the brew.

at this rate i'm gonna start looking pregnant soon i cant wait!!

and then after the movie was white coffee crunch ice cream in a tiny paper cup, then i found devastation idolatry (i'm gay for early 90s thrash) and rotting christ khronos used yeah mother fucker, and earlier today i also picked up carnal forge firedemon and yeah youre fucking jealous but not really.

ps have you ever been depressed secretly based on a culmination of events
pss give shane your testicles ok

> 2 reactions

january 6, 2003

/how does one manage
destruction - the heretic

we sucked in thick meaty metaphors in adaptation like bloody vacuum cleaners. jesus told me to tell you to see this fucking movie.

i was gonna make an analogy involving fratboys and protein enhanced smoothies and sorority girls and pussy but i opted no.

the almost priest went in for a second kill but as sinful as i am i did not flirt back because that would hinder his practice. eyes on every skinny college aged asian kid that walked in the coffee shop with their skinny clean girlfriends, hands warming mine up. it must be so difficult. how does one manage.

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january 3, 2003

/right fucking now
dream theater - the glass prison

somehow get your grubby paws & fake glued on nails on two 14-minute epic metal songs (no laughing) that describe the human condition far better than you might imagine. the metal epicenter of superior musicianship and social depiction:

blind guardian - "and then there was silence"
dream theater - "the great debate"

trust in kaosboy.

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january 1, 2003

/sweet bloody shit it's 2003
propagandhi - back to the motor league

my main goal for the new year 2003 is to grow a beer belly and tell people lil tina got me pregnant in a dennys bathroom, future boyfriends are you listening.

we said happy birthday to lydia and she gave me a kiss on the cheek and free beer. she looks hot in her long black jacket. i think it was black.

then to jakes backyard we went, where underage kids with baggy jeans and crewcuts danced around the beer machine like chickens, throwing firecrackers into the tiny little bonfire, one after another, comparing loud booms like baseball cards. the clock strikes midnight, i kiss my soul twin on the lips, and goddammit i forgot to slip her the tongue. next year.

back in the car we get lost trying to find the scenester party, right when we got there the police force shut the function down, then we found dan and he hugged me and gave me a peck on the cheek. man i sure do get around dont i.

> 2 reactions

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