straight from the horse's mouth here...   im not the one saying it , these are direct quotes. 

that said, i think this is pretty fascinating.  Lots of times people ask me how i became a christian...  and considering the past i come from of being like super antichristian, the honest answer is that i felt like i saw and encountered Satan first and then got so scared and f#cked up that i went running to God.  That's probably about as honest as i've ever been when it comes to that.  i read the satanic bible and aleister crowley books and listened to and followed satanic/occultic rock bands and tried to conduct little seances or channel spirits or whatever.....  hah.  and let me just say that i ran into some spirits that i wasn't at all prepared for and it f#cked my life for years...

 

"Whoever has the youth has the future."   -Adolf Hitler

 

"The strongest appeal you can make is emotionally. If you can get their emotions going, make them forget their logic, you've got them. At MTV, we don't shoot for the 14-year olds, we own them!" (MTV is Rock Around the Clock, Philadelphia Inquirer, Nov. 3, 1982)  - Bob Pittman, Founder and Former President of MTV.

Ozzy Osbourne:        "I don't know if I'm a medium for some outside source. Whatever it is, frankly, I hope it's not what I think … Satan." (Hit Parader, Feb. 1975, p. 24)
 Most people are not aware that Black Sabbath was named after a Satanic being that appeared at the foot of Sabbath's bass player, "Geezer" Butler's, bed. This satanic being has been called Black Sabbath's "fifth mystical member". The demonic spirit entity has been credited for channeling Sabbath's first three albums. Sabbath opened themselves up to these satanic forces after Terry "Geezer" Butler had already immersed himself in the occult. Butler's descent into Satanism began after reading occultic literature, which inspired him to turn his home into a satanic shrine in veneration of the Devil. Butler admitted:

"I read a magazine [on black magic] and thought, 'Oh yea, I never thought of it like that'-Satan's point of view. I just started reading more and more…I'd been having loads of these experiences since I was a child and finally I was reading stuff that was explaining them. It led me into reading about the whole thing-black magic, white magic, and every sort of magic. I found out Satanism was around before any of it and was putting upside-down crosses on my wall and pictures of Satan all over. I painted my apartment black was getting really involved in it and all of these horrible things started happening to me. You come to a point where you cross over and totally follow it and totally forget about Jesus and God." (Seconds magazine, 1996, Issue 39, p. 64)
Black Sabbath: Satan's "Chosen One"
After Butler had forgotten about "Jesus and God" and jumped headlong into Satanism his friend, Ozzy Osbourne, had given Butler yet another book on "black magic". Ozzy's gift was said to precipitate a decisive mystical experience and transformation of consciousness. Butler had a visitation by a powerful demonic principality and discovered that he and the band that was soon to be called Black Sabbath were the "chosen one" to take Satan's message to the masses. Butler stated:

"I just got this really weird vibe off it [the book] and I put it in this cupboard of the apartment I was living in and that night I just woke up and there was this black shape at the bottom of my bed…the next day I told Ozzy about it and about three days after that we came up with our first song Black Sabbath and Ozzy just related my experience in the lyrics." (Terry Butler, video interview)

We find out how Butler and Ozzy understood the meaning of this experience in the lyrics to the song Black Sabbath wherein it is stated:

What is this that stands before me?
Figure in black which points at me,
Turn 'round quick and start to run,
FIND OUT I'M THE CHOSEN ONE
Big black shape with eyes of fire,
Telling people their desire
SATAN'S SITTING THERE HE'S SMILING…

It would be a very short time after this initial satanic visitation that Sabbath would be catapulted to colossal success and end up being used to construct a new musical genre called Heavy Metal. Heavy Metal would be used by Satan to turn countless millions of unsuspecting youth on to Satanism, drugs, sexual perversion, blasphemy, the occult, violence, murder, animal and human sacrifice, suicide and the breakdown of the family.

 

other celeb quotes, a few from a loooooooooooooooooong list- trust me.

 

David Bowie:

”Rock has always been the devil’s music, you can’t convince me that it isn’t.  I honestly believe everything I’ve said – I believe rock and roll is dangerous…I feel that we’re only heralding something even darker than ourselves”  (David Bowie, Rolling Sone, February 12^th, 1976, pg. 83)

 

Angus Young, ACDC:

 

“…it’s like I’m on automatic pilot.  By the time we’re halfway through the first number someone else is streering me.  I’m just along for the ride.  I become possessed when I get on stage.”  (Hit Parader, July 1985, p.60)

 

Keith Richards, The Rolling Stones:

 

”We receive our songs by inpiration, like at a séance.”  (Keith Richards, Rolling Stone, May 5^th, 1977, p.55)

 

John Lennon:

 

[of his music Lennon said] “It’s like being possessed: like a psychic or a medium.” (The Playboy interviews , p. 203)

 

“I felt like a hollow temple filled with many spirits, each one passing through me, each inhabiting me for a little time and then leaving to be replaced by another.” (john lennon, “The Beatles come together,” Reader’s Digest, March 2001)

 

in 1974, JONI MITCHELL told the press of a male spirit who helps her write music.  “Joni Mitchell credits her creative powers to a ‘male muse’ she identifies as Art.  He has taken so much control of not only her music, but her life, that she feels married to him, and often roams naked with him on her 40 acre estate.  His hold over her is so strong that she will excuse herself from parties and forsake lovers whenever he ‘calls’” (Why Knock Rock?  P. 112, citing Time Magazine, Dec. 16, 1974, p.39)

 

 

Happy Halloween.

 

 

alright. so there's the WB studio out near burbank and it's huge. that big water tower that the animaniacs used to live in is actually a real tower and the WB goes for blocks and blocks and blocks. Across the street from the water tower is a Taco Bell, but it's actually MUCH MUCH MORE. we took a field trip there the other day, my cohorts and I, just with the express purpose of going to the Taco Bell with all the signed pictures of old WB sitcom stars. OHHHH it was awesome. You wanna tlak about HOllywood Blvd and the walk of the stars?!? SCREW HOLLYWOOD BLVD. Dude, autographed pictures of the best friend from Step by Step? KIMMY GIBLER FROM FULL HOUSE, ARE YOU KIDDING ME??!?!?! awesome! uhhh the kid from The Sandlot, the kid from Free Willy, the little boy from Family Ties and the list goes on and on. Or rather, the UN-list goes on and on. There were all these little kids who i'd never seen before all over the walls, punctuated by the occasional washed up WB sitcom actor grown up doing Taco Bell shout outs on their pics a la "Best _low_ _fat_ tacos in town! Thanks Taco King!!!" that's right, I said it. Taco King instead of Taco Bell. you see, HOllywood is all aobut who you know and where you go. And I, ladies and gentlemen, know where the most unfamous taco bell in the entire country is. heck yeah i do. stinkin tourists. oh yueah and the guys that worked there were like 30-40 yrs old with tattoos all over their arms it was great. they were very nice, btw, but it just lended to the celebrity atmosphere.... ps - there was no lightbulb in the bathroom, and it was one of those walk outside and around the corner bathrooms. you know, the ones where people get murdered inside and when you come along and ask the cashier for a key they're like 'here ya go, just follow the old bloodstains around the corner'

you ever sit at your computer, staring at the screen, and someone is just like TALKING AT you for long periods of time at a clip and you like, try not to make eye contact or even really respond because it will only fuel them but then you like, forget all about it and just decide to write about it in your blogs4me blog while duder is like blahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahbla balhalbhalb bhlabhlahbalhb hlabhlahllahb lhabhlahlalhabhlahlabhl abhahlahblhalbhlab ahlahlabhlabhlabhlabhlbhl ahlblhalhbalhablhalhbalhbalhhlbhlhl abhlblhalhabhlah but doesnt realize that you're sitting there stenographing everything he's saying "blalbhalhbhlahlablhabhlabhlabhlabhlabhlabhlabhlabhlhablhablhablahlbhlhlab" blah blah something about milk blahblah help me

aww man, i think i mightve found a way to redeem myself for the halloween show. We went to the goodwill thrift store and found all these cheesy half priced halloween costumes. so naturally we bought Skull Lord: a costume with a silver ring in the center of your shirtless chest with four studded black straps hooking around your shoulders and back, barbarian style. a long black cape, a headband with a skull in the middle of it, and two arm band thingies with skulls on them as well. if this wasn't hollywood, i'd think it'd look cool. but now it just looks like somebody's wearing an outfit they bought from Rough Trade, the gay bondage store the next town over. unfortunately, when i got home and opened the thing it was missing its cool skull headbang and two arm bands. I think that's what you get when you're so busy laughing at the picture of the guy in the costume on the cover that your eyes become blinded to actually looking INSIDE the bag and making sure it's all there. by the way, some of my best friends are in a hip hop group and theyre the ones that are gonna dress up for the halloween shiow. I refuse to be the Skull Lord. i still have my ungay pride.

so. I dropped the ball. I shouldve been planning big for a Halloween show, booking a cool band for the friday before Halloween and going all out. Unfortunately, today is like uhhh Sunday the something or otehr of october and face it, its like 2 weeks away. SO i think i blew it. but how grand it wouldve been to book somebody like Monsters From Mars (www.myspace.com/monstersfrommars) for our halloween show. or even american history project (www.myspace.com/americanhistoryproject)if they were magically transported out of Waco Texas and to Los Angeles. Oh well. I guess i'll just have to console myself into thinking I'll be better prepared for next year, and that next year coming up will be the big breakthrough year i've been hoping and praying for for the past couple years of doing this thing. we threw a big show like the friday for last, had about 150 outside people show up - mohawks and big hair and all. it was a great time. there's pics on our myspace... www.myspace.com/theland in teh blogs section. word.

the cut and pasted yet slightly edited version of an egocentric rant where i tried to pose poetic so let's strike a pose and VOGUE by me where i'm from, in the BIG C.T. (some people try to say that with a straight face) , its actually pretty sad. i grew up and was fortunate enough to be a boy in a white suburb with a good patch of woods behind my house. the white suburb part isn't where i consider myself fortunate. it's the woods. and i would spend like ALL THE TIME back there, walking around by myself and exploring - probably wishing i had friends or something (a.k.a. romanticizing my self pity) but mostly finding fascinating junk back there like old abandoned mopeds and dirtbikes and pickup truck caps and stuff. gosh, it was so cool. that stuff was like treasure to me, which is probably why i collect junky old tvs and electronics still today. anyway, there was this place over by this big old tobacco field where there was this old schoolbus and a seriously old and abandoned house. my friends and i used to trip around back there and look through the bus and smash the windows with hammers and bricks thrown from the second story of the windowless house. someone had lived there or still lived there and we pretty much rifled through everything they had left behind like the good samaritans we were. Ohh, there were the bicycles and the clothes and the weird rambling notebooks and the 40 oz. bottles and the stacks and the stacks and the stacks of pornos in the back of the old Datsun truck. How much closer to heaven could a 13 or 14 year old boy feel? We'd trip over there on our bikes with one mission and one mission only: TO BEAT THE CRAP OUT OF ANYTHING BREAKABLE. and we did and we did and we did and we did. the cops rolled up on us one time much to our surprise. the moment was perfect. my friend had just turned to me with a child-like glimmer in his eye and exclaimed "This is the Teenage American Dream!!!!!" We were virtually floating in the euphoric atmosphere of our boyish fantasyland when a voice from behind us, all dead and emotionless and cutting in on our junkyard waltz, surprised us like gunshots from a mouth with the proclaimation of the end of the season of fantasy and the return to the weight of reality: "Well boys, that dream is now over," said the man with the gun and the club and the cuffs. we turned around and it was the cops and the first thing they did, naturally, was tell us to drop our weapons (hammer, bat, etc). We did. Then they told us not to run. We didn't. Then they asked us what we were doing back there. We both claimed "nothing," as we stood there next to a bent up bicycle frame that we'd hung on the side of the busted up bus, while the literal last pieces of window fell to the ground like perfectly timed raindrops falling from a sky with glass clouds. ahh, it was great. those were the days. Then, five years later, the tobacco fields became a huge suburbanite golfcourse. and the woods behind my old house got smaller and smaller. and one of the nation's biggest mall areas moved in down the street. and then the old strip malls went out of business as new strip malls , suburbs of the Mall-City, sprawled. Farms dried up with a foul monetary stench like piss, evaporating into thin air and then replaced by the Babylonian-esque abercrombie and fitches and american eagles. now everybody drives an SUV. now everybody is on paxil. now everybody has forgotten the way they used to be... exchanged the truth for a lie. walked away from the land. sold out their children to the devils with the big money guns. a loss forgotten traded in for a fake found. dimly we watched as the men of the house became birds of the nest all squawking for the worm... ...wood.

i was looking through some old stuff today and found this. this written on the wall of this tweaker motel i stayed at in Portland like 5 years ago when i was fully immersed in my drama. this is verbatim what was on the wall of that place and it stuck out so much that i wrote it down exactly in my notebook and its one of the things ive kept from that time period. well. let me first start off with a poem i wrote about that time. not to live in the past, because i dont, but this stuff is still incredibly interesting to me - the whole mindset of this kindof thing and lifestyle people actually live. man. i havent thought about that place in awhile. that's where i thought i saw my first "demon possessed" man - some old white guy with these crazy hollow eyes that made me think demon... heh. i dont even know where to begin and anyway i try, it's gonna be long winded probably... But i remember being scared to death. Me, this super naive white guy from suburban connecticut, living in a big city thats one of the crystal meth/homeless/heroin capitals of the country... yikes. i remember sitting there in my room and hearing this guy on drugs walk down my hallway, open the stairwell door, walk up the stairs, door close, walk down the hallway on the floor above me, door open, door close, walk past my door again... repeated again and again and again and again and again. while i sat in my $15 a night hostel with a roommate who read books constantly because, as his father had told him, "an idle mind is the devil's playground." I forget his name, but he was cool enough. He was running from something up in Seattle and worked landscaping or something. I was running from myself and worked at trying to stay alive another day. anyway, I can remember. "I can remember... Black lipstick kisses smooched on unwashed yellow stalls. and staring at the drug prose scrawled on cottage cheese texture walls. Looking out the window, and it's several story drop. Chuckling at the thought of giving someone a brand new chalk-outline convertible top." the poem kindof rambles on, and i dont think it ever found its final form, but thats the part i like best from it. ANyway, that was just to set some stage for the quotes i found in my notebook from whoever had stayed in the single room at the motel that i had before i started running out of money and moved into a hostel. directly quoted off the wall of a crack motel in Portland. it was all scribbled because the walls were textured and not flat........ definitely added some effect.. "How riduclas I have become Do Drugs, get tweak, get Parnoid and thereby cause attention. Why do I find this hard to believe when I am straight! _Addiction_ too many years - all I want to do is die! I [something smudged] I know there must be something to this why else would I travel 4000 miles. I will now wait for when you decide to come get me." and some other person wrote, in cursive: "John Braddock Jacobs" is the World's Richest Queer he keeps his money in the Devils Angels in his body & soul he is in Los Angeles, Calif." - isn't that crazy??? incredible drug stuff. but i wonder what people thought of down the line when they saw what i had written before i left that room... "Know in your heart as I know in my soul that this is the end of the beginning of the beginning of the end." ... but maybe we were all just spun out on something.

well, we took in 300 evacuees from New Orleans here where i live in Los Angeles (www.dreamcenter.org). We flew them in, bussed them in, whatever. They're here now, many of them, and it's definitely an interesting dynamic. the response from the area was pretty overwhelming, considering we're i think the only place in california (or the first) that took in the evacuees. the news has been here nonstop since it was announced, CNN and NPR and everyone else you can think of (telemundo!!!!). i tried to get on telemundo with my pale belly painted blue and white while i slapped my flab and hollered "WE'RE NUMBER ONE" and "U.S.A" interchangably behind their reporter but they werent having it. but seriously, people were coming through here to drop off donations in droves. there was a line of cars down the street as they pulled into one of the parking lots and dropped their stuff off into piles. cars, jobs, house offers, beds, cabinets, dressers - you name it. I ever ran across a phone message from someone named , no lie, "Cinder Eller" who was volunteering to style hair. honorable mention - Judge Reihnhold from Police Academy left like a 5 minute long voice message on the machine... along with like these big top execs from every other huge company in america (cingular, best buy, etc etc etc...) blahfully yours, this guy

anyway, i dont know what the big deal was with joe. i wasnt like, super offended or anything. i get that kindof stuff a lot. and honestly, duh, a rib from some dude making a chick - thats a heckuva story to swallow. do i think its literal? i dunno. could it be metaphorical? yes. was i like the biggest antichristian dude out of any one of my friends for years? absolutely. so am i gonna be mad or offended at joe voicing his opinion? no!!! joe's a cool guy!!! so i talk what i talk and i speak it because i know i can back it up to some extent. Yeah, i drink a few beers a year. yeah, i probably smoked pot like 30 times the past 3 years. but i also give my life to working with homeless youth in the streets, working as a full-time missionary for free, staffing a ministry that's about as organized as picasso's junk drawer (that drives me absolutely crazy). so, it doesnt bother me. my conscience is clear and its not like im better than anyone, cuz im not and i know that all too well. but words are words and talk is talk but i work for this thing and if someone wants to talk smack about God, thats fine, but i do my "good works" unto God and ultimately, anyone who talks crap about *my* personal faith is therefore talking crap about the what most people would consider as "good works" that i do because of the faith that i have. and not to say that i think good works are whats going to get me into heaven, because if there's a God then he's so far above all our petty human crap that no amount of good works that we do are going to equal the perfect standard that he is in himself. i could work "good works" the rest of my life and still fall so absolutely pitifully short of what God's Law is... for example, Jesus comes along and says that the law is even stricter than the people of the time thought. matthew 5:27"You have heard that it was said, 'Do not commit adultery.' 28But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart. And let's be honest here, people. My goodness, if thats what God's standard is , I've failed that sucker so many times and still fail it to this day. so my good works are like token gestures compared to what God's (hypothetically here, for argument's sake) standards of law and sin really are. but i could rant forever trying to explain this stuff and stifle the stereotype of braindead christians putting their feet in their mouths time and time again. and its not like im the smartest or brightest or well versed, either. so i dont want to come across all proud of my headknowledge cuz there are ppl out there that make me look like an infant talking baby talk. it's deep stuff, like real deep, but my point overall being that i dont sweat stuff like people disagreeing with my or even so much mocking christianity and stuff, because i all too well remember being on that side of things, doing things like wearing white "I love Jesus" t shirts to marilyn manson show mosh pits and getting all these blood splatters on the thing and going home and admiring my night's work. how things have changed. so please, nobody get too offended on my behalf or anything , because im sure not...

how the heck do you spell mozzletov? masseltov mozzletoff anyway, i dont know. WARNING: RANT AHEAD so yeah, JoeD had a good point a couple blogs back in his comments about the wars in mesopotamia going on for thousands of years and prolly going on til the end of time. i agree. interestingly enough, it all seems to start and end with the jews over there. because there's not much sunnis and shiites hate more than eachother than the israelites. (why DO we call them Israelis and not Israelites anymore??) Did they really cross the Red Sea? I dunno. But they were definitely enslaved in Egypt at one point in time. and came out. and the Law came through them...you remember, with good old Moses (God's homeboy) and the ten commandments and such. Jerusalem came through the jews as well. "Jerusalem" meaning "City of peace," which is pretty ironic considering how much peace there's been in Jerusalem the past 2000 years or so. but the fact is, the jews seem to be the center of attention time and time again. look at world war 2. sure, the world was at war and the allies and the axis were at battle, but what about the jews? THEY were the ones being exterminated in concentration camps by the millions. they were the center of attention. so, according to the Jewish Bible aka the O.T. (which is the basis for the N.T. and christianity...[ever wonder why the jewish bible and the christian bible are combined in the Bible of today??]) Jeremiah the jewish prophet prophesied the destruction of jerusalem some 500 years before it happened. and i know what you're thinking - you could pull prophesy out of a mathbook if you looked for it hard enough - but check it out: [maybe im boring people to death but this stuff is vastly interesting to me but ill make it quick] checkit out. lets treat the O.T. like a storybook for the sake of argument. God is angry with the israelites (remember the story of the lightning and crazy mountain deal when Moses went up to get the ten commandments and came back down to the israelites?) So, God's angry. Moses comes in. Moses is the shepherd in a way of the people. Again and again they (the israelites) try and rebel against Moses and because of their wickeness, millions of them die in the desert wilderness (40 yrs in the desert, remember that story?). SO, Moses is about to die and is like "ya'lls fathers were buttholes and died in the desert, and if you're buttholes too, you're going to have this list of curses befall you." and he rattles off a list of curses. He says also if you're cool (the israelites) this list of blessings with happen to you. So Moses lays out the blessings and the cursings and its totally up to the israelites' free choice on what they want to do: [trust me, this is going somewhere] here's a list of the curses, which were prophecies of what would happen if they disobeyed... Prophecy of the Jews going into captivity: Deu 28:41 - Thou shalt beget (birth) sons and daughters, but thou shalt not enjoy them; for they shall go into captivity. Prophecy of the coming of Babylon: Deu 28:49 - The LORD shall bring a nation against thee from far, from the end of the earth, as swift as the eagle flieth; a nation whose tongue thou shalt not understand; Deu 28:50 - A nation of fierce countenance, which shall not regard the person of the old, nor show favour to the young: Prophecy of the siege and subsuquent destruction of Jerusalem: Deu 28:52 - And he shall besiege thee in all thy gates, until thy high and fenced walls come down, wherein thou trustedst, throughout all thy land: and he shall besiege thee in all thy gates throughout all thy land, which the LORD thy God hath given thee. (keep in mind Jerusalem didn't even exist as an Israelite city when this was "prophecied," which is documentable and historically sound - they were still wandering - so the gates and high and fenced walls prophecy was before the Israelites even had gates or high and fenced walls in the first place.) NOW Jeremiah comes along like 1000 years after Moses and the Israelites are a big mess. theyve got jerusalem but they're being super buttholes again and Jeremiah gets no respect by the people because he's prophecying unpopular things, like impending doom. so checkit: Reiteration in Jeremiah (1000 years later) of God's impending judgment on their wickedness, the coming of Babylon [which is historically accurate, the babylonian empire did destroy jerusalem, but this was written before that came to pass... also prove-able by manuscript dating and historically confirmations from other cultures' historical records]: Jeremiah speaks to the israelites in Jeremiah 5:15-17 (15)"Behold, I am bringing a nation against you from afar, O house of Israel," declares the LORD "It is an enduring nation, It is an ancient nation, A nation whose language you do not know, Nor can you understand what they say. (16)"Their quiver is like an open grave, All of them are mighty men. (17)"They will devour your harvest and your food; They will devour your sons and your daughters; They will devour your flocks and your herds; They will devour your vines and your fig trees; They will demolish with the sword your fortified cities in which you trust." Jeremiah speaks the Word of the LORD about the captivity: Jer 15:2 -"And it shall be that when they say to you, 'Where should we go?' then you are to tell them, 'Thus says the LORD: "Those destined for death, to death; And those destined for the sword, to the sword; And those destined for famine, to famine; And those destined for captivity, to captivity." Jer 15:5-7 (5)"Indeed, who will have pity on you, O Jerusalem, Or who will mourn for you, Or who will turn aside to ask about your welfare? (6) "You who have forsaken Me," declares the LORD, "You keep going backward So I will stretch out My hand against you and destroy you; I am tired of relenting! (7)"I will winnow them with a winnowing fork At the gates of the land; I will bereave them of children, I will destroy My people; They did not repent of their ways. " Jeremiah on the siege of Jerusalem: Jer 19:9 - "I will make them eat the flesh of their sons and daughters, and they will eat one another's flesh during the stress of the siege imposed on them by the enemies who seek their lives." Jer 19:11 -" and say to them, 'This is what the LORD Almighty says: I will smash this nation and this city just as this potter's jar is smashed and cannot be repaired. They will bury the dead in Topheth until there is no more room." The siege happens, Jerusalem falls - 1000 years after Moses first prophecied it as a part of the curse for disobedience, and right after Jeremiah is prophecying the same thing in accordance with the word of the jews' main homedude, Moses, and the blessings and cursings set forth by God through him. Jer 38:28 - "And Jeremiah remained in the courtyard of the guard until the day Jerusalem was captured." Jer 39:1 - "This is how Jerusalem was taken: In the ninth year of Zedekiah king of Judah, in the tenth month, Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon marched against Jerusalem with his whole army and laid siege to it." sieges werent pretty, and this one was long and drawn out. many many people were killed, famine was setting in for how long the israelites had been stuck inside jerusalem, and this was the end of jerusalem and beginning of jewish captivity for the next like 70 years until they returned to jerusalem at the fall of the babylonian empire. ahh yes. the jews. the world has been revolving around them since the beginning, and will continue to do so to the end. how biblical. and yes, i am a serious a dork.

i dunno, but most people seem to think they are. so here's one from a straight guy. its about the war but let me clearly say that im not necessarily anti war or anti bush or anti america or anti conservative or anti republican, or anti liberal or anti democrat for that matter. i have my views like anyone else has their views and its funny cuz you could be a three headed lesbian talking dog and talk about taking over the world, turning the population into forced pooperscoopers to be enslaved to the new race of talking dogpeople and eating strictly milkbone dog biscuits and people would be like "well, he's entitled to his opinion" but im like "im a christian" and sometimes people are like "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, NOT ANOTHER ONE OF YOU MOTHERFUCKERS, FUCK OFF," kind of attitudes. definitely not like everybody is like that, and definitely not trying to be pulling the "OHH IM SUCH A VICTIM" card either. wtf, i lived on the streets amongst dope fiends and dried piss - there is no victim mentality here, but its my blog and im just saying what i want... Now, hear me out, I understand probably better than 98% of the population that some people who've called themselves christians are total rat bastards and i'd like to have a dart board with some select faces on it myself. but christianity does not equal braindeath. it is not the death of the intellect. not to brag, but i could probably debate most people into a corner if i really applied myself and felt like that was what i was supposed to do. but i dont roll like that because honestly, if i could TALK somebody into believing in God, then chances are somebody else could TALK somebody right out of it and if faith is based on things one can see and or feel, than its not faith its substance already. not that im a blind faith, no rational thinking "i believe in God but i dont know why" kindof dude either...thats not faith, thats just language. But im not going to rant any longer, the point being I'm a christian and if someone doesnt like it , oh well, we live in a country where there's freedom of speech and that applies for me as well as the three headed dog over there. so beware, if you dont want to hear it, you dont have to - but doesnt mean im never going to talk about it. so, on a lighter note, here's that much anticipated gay poem i wrote about dogbiscuits ;) twenty one year old Tommy and his squad of teen boys most of whom, five years ago, still playing with toys signed up for the war and considered it a joy til they saw that ten year old kids make good bombs for convoys. cacophonic chaos crashes soundwaves to their ears dirt flying everywhere, amongst bullets and fear to see through their eyes, to know that death is near a mouth's last whisper whimpers why were we here during funeral speech eulogies mother's memory yields days of plastic joe soldiers with weapons to wield exchanged for real life rockets, machine guns, armored cars, shields... Oh Lord it's eight more dead in the Cotton Candy Killing Fields.

my office looks like Cray got a bad case of diahreaheh and crapped out a bunch of random computer parts.

well. i live in los angeles, for those of you who didn't read the upper right hand box with my nifty pic of connecticut in it. and yeah, so, los angeles. hmm. well, we're like the west coast new york city. flying into LA at night is crazy, you can see citylights all the way to the horizon. its a county of like 28 million people at least... like how back in ct there'd be South Windsor and that had like 25,000 people in it and then you'd go to vernon and that'd have like 25,000 in it. Out here it's like LA city has like 6 million, then the suburbs are all 100K plus a piece - going all the way from central los angeles to as far away as the beach. Speaking of which, the beach is like 20-25 mins away without traffic, and up to 2 hours away with traffic. anyway, i think there was a point to this post at one point in time but i became slightly drowsy and no longer care. ~fini~

ok so let me fill some big ct natives in on a little secret here. Yknow, i grew up in ct - hated it like the entire time, and still dont necessarily like going back (well, not for the state itself at least). I had no connecticut pride, thought it was ridiculously lame, and whatever. UNTIL, that is, I moved to a place where people literally think connecticut is a part of canada. Or they're like "where you from" and I'm like "Connecticut" and they're like "Connecticut where?" expecting it to be some town in Pennsylvania or something. Yes lady, im from Connecticut City, New Jersey - let's move on. Honestly, I deal with people for a living. My official job title at times is probably "schmoozer" because thats what I do. I talk to people and get them to like me. Now, these people are from all over the country - from different states every week and i am basically their tour guide in the LA area in a way. I LOVE to play the game "guess where I'm from" with the people my age and younger. They ask where Im from and I tell them I could probably give them 40 guesses before they guess which state I'm from. And it works!! People DO NOT KNOW connecticut unless they were taught the alphabetized state song, then connecituct is like the 4th state rattled off. haha, i;ve had people think New England was a state. Ive told people it started with a "C" and then they guessed "Centucky." hahaha, that poor girl. so ive done a 180 in my take on the big CT. in fact, i want a Connecticut shirt badly. CT REPRESENT!!!!! holla back at me my peeps from the S Dub?

another friday. another show. more bands. new people. mics and wires and plugs and extensions and powerstrips. soundboards and lightboards and computer screens and talking and schmoozing and loud music and hype and downtime and weird videos of japanese people playing matrix pingpong. and then i'll go home and hope the show didnt tank and do it all again next week. throwing shows is only fun when you're not the one who rides the line. even during a good show i'm a mess.

Ok so i was talking to some guy and decided to take my massive brain power to the next level. I'm going to make a new version of snake for cell phones. Instead of with a line that gets longer, the snake with be a bunch of 0's. and maybe it'll like, eat an M or something, or maybe even an ascii character like "£" and when it eats those it'll add another 0 to the zerosnake. then like maybe there'll be special food for the snake adn those'll be signified by the letter S for special (or for _S_nakefood) and then when it gets full you can have the option of plugging in your playstation memory card with your monster rancher game saved characters stats and zerosnake can have tea with your old friend pugglysmarf. and then you should prolly go swipe again.

The walk from the home base to the meditation place was quite a long one. I was shy and confused and broke and new to the area but i knew the way to what i thought was the buddhist temple and i took it once a week, whenver they had their open air meditation night. I don't know if you've ever been to Phoenix before, or know about the area at all, but i used to sleep outside not too far from the Central Public library. Right around the corner from there happens to be the homosexual area of Phoenix and i certainly remember walking along and getting honked at or yelled at or whatever. There was this other homeless kid that i knew who told me about the guy who drove around in the limo with the christmas lights on it, asking guys to get into the limo and have sex with him for 10 or 20 dollars. I had to walk through this area every night and then up Central ave north all the way to Bethany Home. This is a pretty long walk and being as mentally twisted as i was, it always potentially hid pitfalls around every corner. I couldn't even walk past mailboxes without adding the numbers together to make one single digit sum. I couldn't look at license plates without doing the same. Or phone numbers, addresses, bus numbers or whatever. Obsessive Compusive Disorder was always right at my side, spawned from years of numerology books, occultic bands, and metaphysical banter. What started out harmless enough had brought me down like a lion brings down its prey and i was bleeding and dying before i even knew i was sick. After walking the couple miles to the meditation spot, i went inside and found a chair somewhere in the middle by myself. Always by myself. The place was usually pretty packed. It looked something like a highschool auditorium with plush chairs that faced forward in several rows. Eventually, someone would make some sort of announcement up at the front and ask for quiet for the next such and such a time while people were meditating. I always came in with excess baggage, fighting wars with unseen,unknown enemies in my mind during the silence. Struggling to make my way to the top of my garbage heap to proclaim myself master of my self and life. Conqueror of my thoughts and insecurities. But considering the vast issues i was carrying, these battles in my mind felt like literal life and death struggles. Often times, the place stayed quiet as a mouse for that hour of meditation. Sometimes you could hear someone who had fallen asleep, snoring away somewhere in the audience. But mostly it was what it was supposed to be - dead quiet. At the end, someone would go back up to the front and sometimes they'd play some strange, foreign instruments and chant some things and maybe encourage the people to chant along with them. I clearly remember them leading us in closing prayers where we acknowledged and magnified certain deities and yogis and whoever, Jesus Christ included, in a long list of people/spirits/whatevers that we were, in a way, bowing down and worshipping. Often I repeated those prayers as led. The walk back one night was noteworthy. About halfway back i watched as this other kid who slept at the squat behind the dumpster materialized from a side street and started walking some distance in front of me. Following behind him, i could see he was weaving badly like he was drunk or something. Since he and I were loosely friends (we had smoked pot together a few times), i caught up to him and tried to see what was up. Looking bad, he told me he was just "sick" and needed to get some sleep. So we walked back together, all the way to the dumpster next to the brick wall. It smelled like piss and i think he passed out right away and only later on did i realize the "sickness" he was talking about was a direct result of him shooting heroin with this late teen/early 20s white chick who i suspect ended up turning tricks in the park at night for drugs. I remember her talking about how her goal in life was to be a functional junkie just like her mother was, who apparently shot heroin and still kept her dayjob as a school teacher. Unfortunately, she didn't look like she was going in the right direction. I also remember when she got somewhat mad at me and told me that not everyone out in the streets was like me and didn't have the right circumstances or whatever to handle situations the way i could. In fact, coming from suburban white connecticut, she wasn't the only one who couldn't figure out what i was doing on the streets. My case worker at the drop in center took me in one day and asked me point blank what in the world i was doing out there. I had had a job and kept it for years, didn't seem to have any discernable mental illness (unless one were to talk to me at length one never would have known), and could articulate myself extremely well. But none of those things that i had going for me could change the cold fact of the hard pavement beneath my skinny body. The end of the walk with Ryan ended with me lying on a couple thin sheets of newspaper to separate me from the caked layers of dried piss on the parking lot floor. With my shoe as a pillow, i stared up at the patchy clouds praying to animal spirits and sky gods and other gods and even the big God and finally even trying to WILL it not to rain myself. It drizzled and sprinkled anyway and i was freezing cold, sleeping there without a blanket out in the wide open under the big arizona sky, counting the minutes until tomorrow came. yeah, yeah, yeah...