Hey would you look at that: Chief Tizo
is back on the rails with some new state of the art clean coal. Fresh
for an empty station, hardly an empty show: Bryan and I are back with
our dispatches from our desert bunkers. The juvenilea of yesterday
still thrives, here. Look through the archives to see my past
blunders.
This revival comes with new
technologies developed from the doldrums of my twenties. A
graduation to a life of what ifs and potentials with a wrecked will
for today. Well, at least that is what unemployment has partially
done along with the other follies of an early life for me.
Perhaps it would be presumptuous to
announce anything for the coming future. But I will mention what I am
up to now. I am once again reinvested in the literary and filmic
arts. I might drop a song of the day but I feel like I am up to
another task entirely. Look for some book reviews in the future, this
time I am abandoning all the techniques I was indoctrinated into
using and believing. These will all be from a personal place.
The thing about leaving the academy and
entering the uncaring wasteland again is that the embrace of the dust
reminds me of what Artaud had already came to conclusion of. “All writing is pigshit”. All of it. And all of culture and all its
pretensions are just the fecal matter in which we see the sweetness
of our beloved compost piles.
A new discipline is needed for me in
this moment of revival. This is the nascence of a new record for a
different time. A time stretched yawn. And because everything is
based on could be's it is only prudent to accept it as a gift, a call
to the present. Enough of the pretentious ramblings, the mindless
typing.
Until next time.
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