Saturday, December 24, 2011
"The Placebo Effect."
Friday, December 9, 2011
War is the most concrete thing there is.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Untitled: January Ninth, 2000.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
A tree: My old amigo.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Was Qaddafi all that bad?
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Five Pictures in Hope of Endless Travel: Part Two.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
You are what you eat.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Five pictures in hope of endless travel: Part One.
Cocaine is a hell of a drug.
Monday, October 10, 2011
The cult of Ikea.
Friday, October 7, 2011
The Immortal words of Kenko...
Saturday, September 24, 2011
I trust only old books.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Art As/Is Religion
Monday, August 22, 2011
Repetition as comfort.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Occasions in Connecticut.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
Goth's Best Bass lines.
Here are six of my top pics that, for me, epitomize what I love about this ridiculous sub-culture. Close your eyes, give em a listen, and enjoy.
Eat, sleep, ride, repeat.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
A public announcement to hit all demographics.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Confronting "The End Times."
The hoop-la behind ideas of the Apocalypse are mentally trying for me. The thought of those giving up their jobs to sit on street corners boasting the end times as if it were a party not to be missed. The man who, leading up to May 21st, 2011, invested $140,000 of his own money in signage warning of the imminent dooms day this past month. And every other poor soul obsessed (at what seems to be a cyclic 7 to 8 year period) with the end of the world as we know it. I'm beginning to believe that this fear is some innate sense passed down from generation to generation: a more tangible answer to the unfeeling/uncaring cosmos that we are spiraling within straight towards our death. Yes, death is meaningless. But all those years building up to our personal introduction to nothingness are ripe for human substance: To love. To experience. To share.
To confront these overwhelming thoughts, the poem below has offered years of solace.
-M.C.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On the day the world ends
A bee circles a clover,
A fisherman mends a glimmering net.
Happy porpoises jump in the sea,
By the rainspout young sparrows are playing
And the snake is gold-skinned as it should always be.
On the day the world ends
Women walk through the fields under their umbrellas,
A drunkard grows sleepy at the edge of a lawn,
Vegetable peddlers shout in the street
And a yellow-sailed boat comes nearer the island,
The voice of a violin lasts in the air
And leads into a starry night.
And those who expected lightning and thunder
Are disappointed.
And those who expected signs and archangels' trumps
Do not believe it is happening now.
As long as the sun and the moon are above,
As long as the bumblebee visits a rose,
As long as rosy infants are born
No one believes it is happening now.
Only a white-haired old man, who would be a prophet
Yet is not a prophet, for he's much too busy,
Repeats while he binds his tomatoes:
No other end of the world will there be,
No other end of the world will there be.
-Czeslaw Milosz
We're off to Iron Mountain.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Learning to Read.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Existentialism: sometimes its the best therapy...
There are tricks to living on a char, Khalilullah says. He builds his house in sections that can be dismantled, moved, and reassembled in a matter of hours…He uses sheets of corrugated metal for the outside walls and panels of thatch for his roof. He keeps the family suitcases stacked neatly next to the bed in case they're needed on short notice. And he has documents, passed down from his father, that establish his right to settle on new islands when they emerge…His real secret, he says, is not to think too much. "We're all under pressure, but there's really no point to worry. This is our only option, to move from place to place. We farm this land for as long as we can, and then the river washes it away. No matter how much we worry, the outcome is always the same."
Don Belt: Excerpt from an article on Char's (small tidal islands) within Bangladesh.
-M.C.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
A Liberal's achilles heal.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Turning.
Monday, May 9, 2011
The Tamiami Trail and US-1.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
John Waters: deviate genius.
Why are women cast in motion pictures?
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Narcissistic validation of the self's primacy.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Barber Shop Talk (overheard)
Monday, April 4, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
The cut-up truth of the absurdity of War.
The Finnish people now have a chance to withdraw from their hateful partnership, after the privations of life in Nazi internment camps and the terrors of a “hell train” on which they left the Reich while a record night attack by the RAF which hit Stuttgart, Munich and other targets with more than 1,000 four engine bombers carrying 3600 tons of bombs, hinder sappers struggling to clear the debris when two star players on Bloomfield high school's 1934 state champion football team are together again in a war prison camp in Germany unbeknownst to them a Detroit obstetrician is convicted of conspiracy to violate the war time espionage act, None of the foe found in the "Ghost City" all the while the county game warden has been setting traps during the last few weeks to catch the rabbits that threaten to be pesty later on, Forces listed “one elephant” among the supplies and equipment taken from the enemy. A Mopping up party was clearing the last hold outs from the last dug outs on one of the marshall islands: As a fuse was set to discharge the demolitions a man came running out with his hands held high "don’t shoot, Ive got a brother in brooklyn.” Today, variable cloudiness occasional rain; Tonight and friday, variable cloudiness occasional rain, somewhat colder. -M.C. Excerpts spliced and pasted from Passaic, NJ's "The Herald News." March 16th, 1944 |
Monday, March 21, 2011
Those damn Luddites.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
The miracle of Eucalyptus oil.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Who will burn in Hell: addendum.
Who will burn in Hell?
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
So what...
Poached from www.sleeptalkinman.blogspot.com