Apocalyptic Visions (dot org)

Apocalypse Windshield Ad

Today I went to the bank and saw this car in the grocery store parking lot. Normally I see car decals like this when somebody is advertising Avon or some other pyramid program. This time somebody was advertising their brand on the end of the world. I decided to call it.

While I thought it would be more ridiculous than it really was, the conversation reminded me of something I hadn’t experienced in a while. I remembered, why argue about this type of thing? It reached a point where the guy was talking about the need for faith, but also the need to supercede faith and “grow” enough to his level of spiritual attainment, to KNOW. “I KNOW, and you can KNOW too like I do by doing this that, etc. etc…”

His whole thing was genuine and articulated well, but it came back to the same marketing tactics that I’m familiar with from advertising pyramid programs on the internet for a while. He said “this is what we’re taught in the doctrines, so it must be true.” He invited me to join his club that meets every week. The thought of sulking together about how much our world sucks, and how much Christians are going to be tortured and martyred in the end was a real bummer. It’s so fear-based that it’s a bumout.

I read a book recently by J. Krishnamurti called Freedom from the Known. I resonate with the idea that when we “know” something, that is, form a mental concept about anything, we place another brick on the wall around our imaginations, intuition, and creative unique thought.

I often think about, why are kids so free, and then why are adults so square? I was laying cinder block at an elementary school yesterday (mainly because I thought it’d be ironic for this entry), and I saw all of the kids in single file, prancing around enjoying the rain, while the less-animated teacher herded them to another part of the building.

Of course you can’t expect a teacher to get excited and scream about the dripping sky, but the image of the children living fancy-free in imagination while confined to single file seemed to be only the beginning of a long period of conditioning. Eventually this system of do’s and don’ts, rewards and punishments, most likely will have it’s way into their minds, turning them into docile office-working consumers, all for the sake of the economy. That’s my apocalyptic vision.

But… the good news is, unlike Hell, we can still get out.

Chaz and Biff

1980s Badasses

Halloween is coming up so I thought I’d publish this never-been-publicized cellphone photo of Chaz and Biff, last year’s halloween costume all-stars. Self-proclaimed of course. That’s Tommy (Chaz) on the left.

This Halloween I’m going to be D’arcy Wretzky of Smashing Pumpkins fame. I’ve been starving myself and vomiting to help myself obtain a small-frame figure to squeeze into whatever clothes she wears. The idea of being a girl for Halloween seemed pretty fun at first, but I became a little worried when I saw this photo of her:

Maybe I can wear a XXL Raiders jacket and no one will notice.

In other news, I have a new job. I haven’t really talked about it yet, and I’ve been there a week already. I don’t know what you even call my position. So far, I fetch stuff for a bunch of guys who build cinderblock walls. I had a really good cellphone-photo opportunity of us pumping concrete into a 12-foot wall today. Then I remembered that I left my phone in the car, because bricks are bad for phones.

Tape Man

Remember: Your model needs oxygen when making Tape Man

Sometime last year, my très temporaire band His Holiness played a show at Meow Wolf in Santa Fe during an active art show with various installations. A display that fascinated me was a 3-Dimensional design involving clear cocoons of humans known as Tape Men.  A Tape Man is a mannequin created by wrapping plastic wrap around a human and covering them with multiple layers of packing tape. Eventually you cut your friend out of their shell, and tape it back together to have your very own Tape Man.

I recently discovered that a different street artist named Mark Jenkins made Tape Man popular, and I found many of his ideas fascinating. I told my brother about it, and we spent most of our afternoon making our first Tape Man.

This is my Tape Man rescue pose. Yes, we did put clothes on him.

As you can see, our Tape Man has a well-developed set of legs, but a very saggy upper body. Unfortunately due to lack of tape, as well as patience, we failed to create a very sturdy Tape Man. But here is a good photo with Tape Man in the car with me:

Tape Man can protect you from car thieves.

Go to the flea market to get cheap packing tape and make a Tape Man. Making a Tape Man would also make for a great first-date activity… of course, only if your date is enjoys all of the taping and saran-wrapping of the face, etc. If you come up with ideas as good as Mark Jenkins, you just might feel okay for spending so much money on packing tape.

TMI

2 Beers.

Thinking about how we get stuck in patterns. How people I know have been in the same loops for years. And how I have been too.

Do we imagine we’re changing? Do we think we’re making progress?

There’s a big world out there. Sometimes I think I’m the only one who sees it.

But then, why venture into it? There’s a blurred line between the need for acceptance and the need for ambitious change. That’s why I’ve got to get away so often. Because when I do the line isn’t a blur, but clear. Movement kills stagnance. It’s the illusion of progress. Or maybe being at home is the illusion of stagnance.

It’s all in the mind.

Very happy with Lykke Li.

I insist that you give this color personality test a try.

It only makes me feel Junger.

There is no doubt that Carl Jung’s theory of synchronicity is unprovable, and it makes a lot of left-brained psych experts throw a fit, you know, like boring people always do. But I can say that some of my experiences have been so significant (perhaps with a portion of its significance induced for self-indulgence), that there is very little room left for me to assume that they have all been pure coincidence.  Thank goodness synchronicities are not provable… that way we have a choice on what to believe or not. Isn’t that the magic of life after all? I choose the fun side of the magic; the superstition of synchronicity.

“The term synchronicity is coined by Jung to express a concept that belongs to him. It is about acausal connection of two or more psycho-physic phenomena. This concept was inspired to him by a patient’s case that was in situation of impasse in treatment. Her exaggerate rationalism (animus inflation) was holding her back from assimilating unconscious materials. One night, the patient dreamt a golden scarab – cetonia aurata. The next day, during the psychotherapy session, a real insect this time, hit against the Jung’s cabinet window. Jung caught it and discovered surprisingly that it was a golden scarab; a very rare presence for that climate.”

Anyway, yesterday I woke up from a dream about Jimi Hendrix living on my street. He was as old as he should have been today, a converted Jew, and wore a yamaka on top of his afro. Never mind the Jewish reference, for it exceeds the purpose of this story, but the dream was vivid enough for me to be in a state of Hendrixi for my entire day. Here’s an abbreviation of what happened after waking from the dream:

1. A dude at work flipped on radio, Jimi Hendrix.

2. 30 minutes later we drove by a residential street, Hendrix. I looked right at it in a moment of looking out the side window. Didn’t know it was there.

3. I posted a status update on Facebook about it. My friend Andrew replied, saying “Funny that you mentioned Jimi Hendrix, because I checked his site today and…”

4. Then today at work I was assigned to a completely different job site at another Hendrix street., completely different than the one from before.

5. I went to lunch and stopped at a new intersection, Hendrix and Andrew.

Another thing I find fascinating is, during synchronistic days like this, and when I start to spill what’s happening to other people, I almost always get a response that starts with, “Funny that you mention that, because today I blah blah bleh blehr blah….”

I’ve heard all of the arguments against synchronicity. If you want to argue against my experience, I’m sure it’s a really boring argument filled with logic and wanna-be intellect. We’re all just ants. Who cares if you know how to carry pebbles out of the hole better. I’ve decided to be the ant who looks up at outer space.

Damn, I’m significant.

Meet my parents.

From my mom’s recent travel album entitled, “Insterstellar travel with Kevin”.

Flood The Sun + Smashing Pumpkins = ?

Flooding Sunkins

Tonight I had band practice with Flood The Sun + JD (from We Were Born As Ghosts). We are going to play a Halloween show at the Launchpad as Smashing Pumpkins. JD’s Iha riffage is tight, Casey Chamberlained it, and Joel is frightened by how good the Big Muff sounds through his amp.  He’s Corgan. I’m D’arcy. We are Flooding Sunkins.

Microcosmos

Microcosmos, with Brian Eno, Aphex Twin, Radiohead, etc.

Today I called up my friend’s dad who runs a masonry business. Looks like I’m going to start doing masonry work on Wednesday. Stoked.

I went to Josh and Erin’s to hang out for the night. We drank some bad whiskey and root beer, then watched Microcosmos to Aphex Twin, Brian Eno, Radiohead, etc. Here’s a dose of what you might get when combining all of those:

Microcosmos with Brian Eno

And…

Home

H, sweet H

Got home in time to be taken out for pizza with Mum ‘n Dad. I got it with gluten-free crust. Then I slept.

One thing I hadn’t mentioned is that before I left for tour, my left arm has been asleep. I’m guessing I pinched a nerve in yoga while doing excessive down-dogs and side-planks. 2 weeks later, it’s still numb. Uh oh.

Coma Tour, Colorado Springs

Ice Orbs and Captain D

My sister let the whole band stay in her condo in Denver while she was out being a flight attendant. It was pure 5-star luxury. I hadn’t showered since Portland. When I finally washed my hair, it reeked of California campfire and gray water flowed from my scalp down the drain.

We slept late, watched Wedding Crashers, then made our way to Colorado Springs. Within 24 hours, the temperature dropped 50 degrees, and fog/snow filled the air. Only 10 miles from the venue, we got stuck in an hour-long traffic jam caused by an ice-inspired accident. We rubber-necked it as we passed the scene, and all that was left was two totaled cars and a cowboy hat.

This was the last show of the tour. I feel the need to add that it was a good tour. Good stories are derived from pain and conflict, so I may have missed listing all the more fortunate events that happened along the way.  And I’m still not gonna, because where’s the entertainment in sunshine and lollipops?

Tonight we might leave. Maybe not. It depends on if the van still slides around when we pull out of the parking lot.