Tuesday, March 31, 2009

The Road


Cormac McCarthy's ominous possibly prophetic post-apocalyptic Pulitzer Prize winning novel The Road has been turned into a movie. Viggo Mortensen portrays the man. Nick Cave and Warren Ellis do the score. John Hilcoat directs the film. He also directed the Proposition. A film which also featured Nick Cave in the music department as well as being the screenwriter. Nick Cave and Warren Ellis did the score to the Assasination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford. A score which I listen to often. If any of this sounds familier to you I highly suggest reading the book and getting hyped up for the film. Personally, I don't know if I am more exicted for the score or the film. Either way this film goes on the list of films coming out in 2009 that I want to see. Tack this on with Dagur Kari's The Good Heart and Lars Von Trier's Wasington.

Monday, March 30, 2009

BKA



There is a myth/man/legend named Brian Kelly. He is the leader of the Brian Kelly Army which features prominent members from around the globe. I heard a story of when Brian Kelly was in Ireland. Brian had shamelessly covered the town with stickers portraying his face and name. Places for his gorilla recruitment tactics included street signs, public restrooms, and pretty much any where Brian Kelly had been. After sufficiently covering the town he stopped at a pub for a beer. Once there he over heard a man talking to his friend asking vehemently, "Who the fuck is Brian Kelly?!" This gave way to what I have dubbed the Brian Kelly Moment. It is the moment where the culmination of all your efforts is achieved by anonymous recognition.

Who the #%$* is Nate Berhausen?

When Nate Berhausen first joined Breaksea Caravel we played only a few shows with him as our drummer before we did a short tour. Our first night on tour we slept at one of our friends houses in Wisconsin (Nate's home state). Nate slept on the couch and I on the floor next to him. In the morning I stood up to go to the kitchen to get some freshly announced food. Nate called to me from behind, "Nah you get on nah an' feed that sow you here." Without turning or flinching I simply replied, "You feed the sow, Ah'll feed the chickens. Ah fed the sow all last week."

It was the beginning of a great friendship.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Banned Bard

It started with Nate Berhausen. We started discussing what would be the circumstances, events, and outcome of a no holds barred between all of our friends in his back yard. Even what would happen if we divvied up into teams according to all different categories.

Nate and I on stage.

This was not uncommon among Nate. His thoughts often strayed towards the pack mentality. I believe it was all his time in the woods as a child making friends with the local wildlife. Or maybe he read Jack London so many times that his psyche fuesed with the written words. No matter what Nate could not seperate his primitivist instincts.

Once Nate came into the bicycle shop where Joey Goemaat was working. He charges through the door like a rhino through an African tourist safari bus. Immediatly he shouts, "Someone is going to get their ass kicked!" He locates Joey accross the room and points at him with an evil eye screaming from from his socket. He then walks forward saying calmly, "I think its about time we settle here and now who would be a better man in a knife fight." Joey calmly in return walks out from behind the counter and the two of them hover their hand above their hips like some old west shoot out. Nate counts. One. Two. Three. Their hands fly. Without any time for me to comprehend the situation, the two men pull knives from their pockets, unfold them, and stand staring at eachother. "Alright, alright." says Nate. And the situation is diffused.

Nate's and my conversations of physical contest have also found their way into my psyche. Even when apart from Nate, I continue to size people up. When I enter a bar, go to a picnic, or visit old friends one of my thougths is to locate a person and ask myself, "Can I take him?"

Last Summer I was at a festival far from Nate and the majority of my friends. I was part of the set up crew and we all were in line for dinner. My primitive insticts flash and I turn to the man standing behind me in line and ask, "Out of every person here who are you most afraid of in a no holds barred fight to the death?" The man, whom I have never spoken to before, looked at me as if I was a loon. I continue,"I saw Johnny out in the field dwinging a sledgehammer over his head, but I've been watching him and he seems to favor his right leg. I think I can take him." The man still dumbfounded by my topic of conversation, or the subtle implication that I could kill him easily, stares at me silently. I decide to drop it. But all through the festival I get the most bewildering looks from strangers always standing at an assumably safe distance.

Nate told me once while we were at a bar that if the two of us ever found our way into a no holds barred that he was coming after me first. He assured me that his deciscion was not based in any ill feelings towards me, but quite the oposite. He just did not want the fight to near its end and build my hopes up of beating him. I thanked him and told him in return that I would not go down easily.

Antony Micallef's black and white oil portraits continue to rock my world. Soon I will start posting some of my art and drawing from my sketchbooks. Until then I will just be posting written excerpts like the previous post.

Friday, March 27, 2009

Twenty-two Years

I woke up today before my alarm. I
lay there feeling like dough being
kneaded in slow motion. Or like
a water balloon dropped from a height
that did not pop. Waiting for a noise
to wake my body.

Progerian Progression

Last year I was looking at myself in the mirror and I noticed an exorbitant amount amount of ear hair growing from auditory organs. For a split second I thought to myself, I think I have an aging disease. Because there definitely should not be that much hair for a person my age. Mere seconds afterward I realized that this is an absolute ludicrous thought. I also realized the humor in having such thoughts.

Upon confessing this to one of my friends he responded.

"Oh yeah, when I was 13 I was examining that space in betwixt my ball sack and my anus."
"Your taint?" I said.
"Yeah, well I looked at it and for that second I thought, was I born a girl and they just sewed me up?"

I love the way that one's openness compels others to be open as well. The joy that we get to share is exponential.

Post Post

I did not trim my ear hair because it was during the year that I neither trimmed a hair on my face or body (kind of like No Shave November only longer). It was not a Nazarite vow or anything. It was more a practice in restraint. And training for the World Beard and Mustache Championships (WBMC) which I will not attend due to all my hair falling out during chemo. Otherwise, Jack Passion, you never stood a chance.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Intricate Castles

I have been listening to Grouper a lot lately. When I'm not listening to my regular regiment of Bonnie "Prince" Billy, Mount Eerie, A Silver Mt. Zion, Rachel's, and Bon Iver. As well as all their friends and label constituents. For all of you who have no idea who any of these groups or people are, here is a taste of Grouper. If you like this I'd suggest looking up the rest of them.Most of their music reminds me of this, or a dense fog on green hill, or that lucid feeling of falling when you are trying to go to sleep. It wraps one like heavy woolen quilt, made by grandmother's hands, stitched from old war uniforms and smelling faintly of fire, smoke, and cedar.

Violins and Diamonds

As should be apparent by now, I love alliterations. I also love two word poems. They are like exquisite corpse poems only they are more like exquisite explicit and warps corpse. I love the way they roll off one's tongue. I love the way that one's mind strives to connect the two different images that fit together so well lyrically. It is like two complimentary pages of a sketchbook. Some are like this...or like this...Some are beautiful. And some are more than beautiful.

Thanks to James Jean for the images.

Sarcastic Sarcoma

Since obtaining cancer I have moved back from Minneapolis to my parents place in California. Without doing so I probably would not be able to get the treatment I have. I lost my job in Minnesota, was rejected for unemployment and had to give up my apartment. Without an income I was able to get free insurance from the state of California for my treatment. Without the help of my parents I would have never been able to survive chemotherapy or afford the amenities necessary for any one to survive.

CantaƋkerous Canker

Over the past year I have been diagnosed with the cancer. I have been through chemotherapy. I have had surgery. Recently, I was told that my cancer was initially misdiagnosed. I was then told that my cancer was terminal. They do not know when it will happen, but as far as they know it is inevitable.