Kingshit

I don't have a cause. This concerns me, as those who live without causes often become boring psuedo zombies who groan in low gravelly voices to and from work until they fall apart and die. Again. If someone asked me what my cause in life was, I'd prolly say "To create art", but that's such a flimsy basis to go by. You wanna make art? What kind of art? Art that makes people go "oooh that's pretty"? Art that shocks and challenges ideology? Art that really isn't art so much as it is a money grabbing scheme? Art that's pretentious as fuck and has no real value? What do you really want to create? I have the luxury of of being in the thawing spring of my youth, and also the additional luxury of knowing that the spring is only worth something it if you take advantage of it while its still here. I'm making a path, but sometimes I wonder how far it'll go.

/emo

[Music]-Mini Mansions(self titled)

Gaze upon the leather jackets of oblivion, and weep 1000 tears. Or 1. Whatever.

Harmonies, memorable instrumentation, nonsense lyrics. These are the things that make the Mini Mansion(s) go round. The music is powerful, without having much fire or fury. No pretense. There's only quality here. Easy to get lost within these sounds. What an amazing group, and an amazing album. 

Their myspace page has a bit of their music there. Youtube only has low quality performance videos. They really don't convey their sound properly. 

Picture found at http://clubnotes.pmpblogs.com.

Some weird shit.

First spotted at Rosenburg Radio.


What is an Odd Future? Apparently a group of fucked out of their minds teenagers who like to rap. Surprisingly well.




There's a bunch of characters within this shit, but the only two I've really listened to at the moment are Earl Sweatshirt( Look up, you might see a song he made) and Tyler, The Creator(not sure if the comma is necessary but it gives the name a little more flair). They do have some features from people who I assume are a part of the group as well, but none of them hold a candle to these two.

Earl is fantastic with internal rhyme, which, when combined with the sadistic nature his lyrics take, gives his music this sense of dark intricacy. Entertaining son of bitch.

Tyler's a step below Earl in terms of pure lyricism, but he's still pretty dope. He's just as bizarre and twisted as Earl is, and his voice gives his music a little more ferocity. He also seems to be the main producer for the group.


Like I said before, I know jack shit about the rest of the guys in the group, but I'm gonna assume their projects aren't as gripping as Earl and Tyler's. I'll write more about Odd Future once I've listened to more shit. While you patiently wait another month or so to read that, go to their blog and download their music.

[Music]-Only Built for Cuban Linx Niggas

Let's take a diversion from the usual fare here and talk about one of my favorite albums ever.

Raekwon and Ghostface, arguably the greatest tandem in the history of rap music, take you through a crime epic, the "mafioso"rap album to end all others.
It's not the typical hyperviolent, kill every man standing ever tripe. Cuban Linx is gritty, detailed. The pictures painted are vivid, the rhymes sharp. The various capers described don't feel forced or contrived. It's beautiful poetry, with out the annoying fluff and pomp.
And, as with all of the first round Wu Tang albums, the production(delivered by the legendary RZA) is epic. Nothing compares. The way the iconic boom bap sound is blended with the haunting samples is just...perfection. Nothing else to say here, just listen to the music.


"Julio Inglesias...getting cream like that nigga.."




Lawl at the Clarks dissertation.

Little pain

Love dwelled in that place from time to time, but it was largely drowned out by the anger. Anger prevailed because it was easier to yell and point fingers then to forgive and move on. There were periods were the strife grew so powerful it threatened to rip them apart. The lulls of love between the storms were enough to keep them together, at least for the moment. But she saw something over the horizon...paradise?

Enough semidepression

Here's a bit of something I wrote, maybe I'll finish it and it'll become published....!


In the depths of darkness, she heard a voice.
"Breathe."
An action so simple seemed so foreign to her, so complex. She attempted to draw air into her lungs, but there was none there. She felt the sharp pains of asphyxiation accumulating, along with panic.
"Not literally, dumbass. We went over this."
She opened her eyes, staring into a void. Air suddenly filled her lungs. She exhaled.
"I don't see my soul..." she said softly.
"You haven't brought it into reality yet. Draw it out of the void."
"Simple."
She held out her hand and made a fist, as if she were grabbing something. A small light appeared in front of her. She focused on it. Lights began appearing in the darkness, dotting like stars but eventually becoming a large glowing orb. She released her fist, letting her arm drop to her side.
"Good." said the voice. "Stay focused. If you screw up...eh. Let's not talk about that. Let's start compounding."
She drifted forward, entering the light. Within the orb was a mass of symbols that constantly shifted and changed, merging with each other and splitting away. Confusing to those uninitiated, but she understood what was happening.
"Slow it down." said the voice.
She closed her eyes, and imagined herself sitting amongst a garden of flowers in radiant sunlight. The symbols froze.
"Find your seal."
She drifted through the symbols, moving them aside until she found a heart shaped symbol. She grabbed it gently with both hands.
"Clear space."
The symbols all gathered around the wall of the orb, giving her a wide berth.
"Now..release it."
She let go of the seal.
"Careful."
"You're making me nervous."
"Sorry."
She breathed deeply, and as the air filled her lungs, her eyes matched the dull pink glow that emanated from the seal.
"Open."
The seal exploded. A rush of energy so intense it knocked her backwards. She screamed out in pain.
"Control it!"
The image of her amongst flowers came to mind, and the rush of energy began to lessen.
"That's it."
The energy still shifted around violently.
"Why is it still acting up?" she said to herself.
"You're still nervous. It's reflective of your current mindstate."
"Right..calm.."
The energy contorted into a sphere.
"Good," said the voice. "Get a component."
She held out a hand, prompting one of the symbols to quickly fly into her grasp. She released the energy, not nearly as intense as the energy from her seal, the coloration grey. She held the component over the seal energy and caused a thin thread to slowly extend from the component until it connected to the seal energy. The pink glow of the seal climbed up the thread onto the component and enveloped it whole. A heart appeared on the center of the component.
"It's connected now." said the voice.
"What now?"
"Come out of the dream, we'll see if you can tap into the component."

I'm quite content with this at the moment. Decent opener. 

Creative energy

It's fickle, writing. It seems to come and go with me, and the go's tend to last several times more then the come's. I understand that writing, or really, any sort of creative process, is difficult, and not meant to be banged out in reckless fashion, but fml, I shouldn't go weeks and weeks without being able to create some sort of quality work. It's frustrating. I chalk it up to a lack of focus, but it's the main thing I dwell on. It's prolly all in my head anyway. Let's move on.

I have not made a post in quite sometime.

I shall rectify this with a minor update. BEHOLD BITCHES








I've been meaning to do a Shiina Ringo post, but I've been halfassed lately. She's an incredible artist, though. I don't understand most of what she says, but it sure sounds awesome. She seems to have this innate understanding of music in general, which helps her span genres so effortlessly. I'll get to something more indepth soon. Embrace the genius while you wait.

For your health.

All short story writing and poem/insights will be held on my stupid deviantart page.

I will mainly post music reviews and rants here. Have fun.

Random musing

The only thing more annoying then a half assed troll are the shitfucks that try and argue with the half assed troll. Shut the hell up and let the fucker wilt and die. You'd think people would get the troll's manifesto by this point.

[story]: Who Exists.

Click or die in a propane truck accident.


Who Exists, a piece I started writing a while back that I never finished. Probably the best thing I've written so far, at least as far as technique goes. Mebbe you enjoy it, mebbe I finish it one day.

[Music]: Blow Up

One more sooong



Typical J-Cole, i.e. high level lyricism and general greatness. The hook and beat brings the song to levels of epic previously unexplored by Cole. The future looks bright for the young man.

[Music] Pavlove

Fuck you if you don't like Fall Out Boy. Sure, the instrumentation is half assed 9/10, but their last two albums were borderline pop perfection. This is prolly their best song, me thinks.

New music

I browse a good number of blogs, and all of them post a good number of musical selections, many of those selections coming from "artists" foreign to me, but, in all honesty, I can't muster up the interest to click play. It's not like it's I'm going to lose an arm from hearing a shitty riff or a corny punchline, but there's this inherent caution  that causes me to be leery of the stranger's offering of what could possibly be audio dope. It's more likely to be audio garbage, though.

Speaking of audio dope.

A moment of adulation.

(I hated how this post read like a shitty article at a shitty gaming website, so I rewrote it to read like a shitty post on a strange but amazing blog.)

Before I launch into the meat of this post, I must say this: I am very fond of the PSP franchise, "Patapon". Please keep this in mind as you read the following.

Patapon 3 is coming. Yesssssss. Fuck yesss.


More chances to decimate legions of creatures merely trying to protect what's theirs simply to find...what the fuck is an Earthend anyway?

The fact that the Patapons are so dedicated to finding what is probably a stale piece of fruitcake speakings volumes of their dedication, heart, and brainless determination.

I could make a clever analogy to religious cultsgroups, but the poor sods have had enough abuse at this point.

It's apparently coming out in November, so it won't be long before I can wade knee deep into the waters of addiction once again.

Iron Mike

Portion of an interview with Sports Illustrated.

Here is a man who, after bearing a storm that would rip most men to small, unrecognizable pieces, has found an undeniable peace and sound state of mind. It is amazing to see him speak in such clarity how fucked up his life used to be, and how he's turned away from these things. I admire this man. Debate the sense of that statement if you so choose.




Great interview.

Trauma

The pit called the human mind goes a long way. So easy to lose your grip and fall down. Down, down, down, deeper in the hole and into madness. Such a thick tangle of manias that you may never climb your way back up.

Short Story featuring blood feeding strange people

No glittering was done during the production of this short story.

Linky if you can't see that sizeable tab thing up yonder.

Takeaway show featuring kids from the cold war

The energy, the vibe of this performance is amazing. Just a wild rendition of a fantastic song from a fantastic band.



The actual song. Bang.

They wont let me embed.

But I can makes a link.

Anywho, its Lady GaGa, doing a live performance of Poker Face. The recording of the song is lame pop shit, but this is great. She's got a voice, a very beautiful voice. The spectacle wears on me, but the talent underneath is undeniable.

Cooler then thou

I can't catch the cool. Constantly out of grasp. I'm not even sure if its real. If I ever tell you I don't care about it, make sure to slap me and tell me I'm a fucking liar. I want it. They want it. You want it. How many people get it? How many people get to the point where at any point and time, some random individual could look at a person and say, " that's a cool motherfucker."? Or some other pronoun. Is it a role that you're born into or something that you develop and eventually become? Does it even matter? Is it not uncool to chase cool? I can't tell.

Kill yourself

This is the stuff greatness is made of. Not that I agree with Fleetwood on everything, but that's insignificant at the moment.

Stupid living

Nothing really works the way you want it to or need it to, and you spend so much time talking about how fucked it all is and how it's not fair and that it should be fair, that everyone should live happy lives and never have any problems and sing kumbya or however you spell that shit, and the world should just be one blissful unicorn party.

 I like the visceral aspects of life. That is, of course, bullshit, because I've never experienced the really visceral aspects of life, but the idea of never experiencing the grit and grime is lame. You're not a real person till you've felt life stab you in the back repeatedly with a rusty steak knife. Or something considerably worse. I don't have anything else to say today. 

I want to be free from falsehoods

You know, lies and so on. You can't actually escape them, because most people's entire existence is based off of them, but I'd love it if I could. Although I wonder if I could really exist in a world were there was nothing but the truth. The reality of life, raw authenticity. You can't get that in human society without looking really, really hard. And when people find it, they usually can't handle it.
Haha, cliche pop culture reference, haha. Fuck.
I went through a three day stage in my midteens where I was obsessed with this subject. I had a conversation with a girl who was somewhat daft but very sweet and well intentioned about people who use lies to feel good. The conversation got pretty ugly.
She felt that it was fine to live with lies. She said that if lying made you happy, go for it. Facades were great. Facing the real was lame. I was dismayed. Her nonchalance on the subject upset me.
I then  said something to the effect of, if you can't deal with the truth, you should die.
That went over well.
She became more distraught in that chatbox then I have ever seen anyone ever, "real life" included. But I was in the thick of my apathy for humanity, so as apposed to trying to diffuse the situation, I made it worse. I was a cock about it, but I couldn't get behind the thought that people should lie to themselves. To do it consciously was the greatest sin of all.
This is depressing. I'll finish this later.

Bring Night

I didn't like We Are Born. Not to the extent I thought I would. An album of songs in the vein of You've Changed sounded nice, but the overall effort came off as annoying. I did, however, enjoy this song immensely.





I guess the deceptively hard riff balances things out. I think the main thing that I love about this song, though, is how effortlessly perfect the verses and hook is. Everything works well, and we get a catchy as all fuck pop tune that I will most definitely be enjoying for a good little while.

Shake hands with the devil, join his conglomerate.

We don't like the big guy. We don't want the big guy to win. Who we do like, is the little guy. The scrappy fringe contender that doesn't have much of a chance to get to the big show and win, but we still believe in him, because he speaks to the majority of us, little balls of insignificance who sit around in bubbles, perhaps wishing that we were a little more important or little bigger, but not having the balls to actually take the steps to get bigger or to gain a bit more significance. We love the little guy because he has those balls to make those moves. He's greater then we'll ever be, but he is small enough for us to live through him vicariously. The little guy is our gateway to greatness. And in the unlikely situation the little guy wins, and beats the big guy, we are overjoyed. Proof that you don't have to join forces with the devil to be great, that with a little extra work and a whole lot of heart, you can overcome.

Fuck I'm bored.

New Age

This is the new age. New day, new way to go at living. Minimizing bullshit to a minimum is my MO. More of what matters. Less time wasting. I'm a young man, and this is the time to fortify my future as a penniless writer who moonlights as a taxi driver, because really, what's the american dream? Ferrying around jackasses, that's what.


Maybe I'll blog some more. Maybe I'm just blowing hot air, and I'll go back to playing DFO for the majority of the day whilst the word count of my draft stands still. We will see, nonexistant audience. We will see.

The Modest Gentleman Society

Because you are Modest Gentleman who enjoys a spot of tea and sport and quite possibly a good romp with an alluring female companion.

Or maybe a male companion. I'm not judging you, bro.

Join us!

[music]: Midnight Boom

This album is so freeform, I'm really not sure how I should describe it. The music here doesn't necessarily hit you in the mouth, but its presence is powerful enough to wholly grab your attention. And it doesn't try and pound its way into your ears, but it works its way into your mind, and grabs hold. The power The Kills' music holds is anything but typical. 
Midnight Boom's fuzzy, lofi aesthetic gives the album a sense of understated ferocity, as if at any point, the record could lose control and become pure noise and chaos. But it stays under control throughout, delivering raw melodies and riffs that are just as catchy as anything I've ever heard, and yet still keep a sense of substance and authenticity. The only sore point in the album, at least for me, was Goodnight Bad Morning, the only song that doesn't deliver the same sort of power and energy that the rest of the album does, but outside of that, Midnight Boom is flawless. 

DOOM

DOOM.

He's the best. Do you want to know why? 

Because he's a supervillian. In real life. 

Really. 

What the fuck am I doing with my pathetic ass life, when people are actually committing crimes of the  supervillianous nature? And then he's an epic rapper. 


A supervillian with super rap skills. It's unbelievable.

How can you not like this guy? How? He's my favorite rapper. Of all time. MF DOOM.

WTF is a Gummo.

The new age heartthrob.    
                                                                  

It's a strange piece of "art", and I wrap art in quote marks because it's the epitome of destitution. We tend to regard art as something that's appeasing to the eye, the flash, the glamor. Gummo is the antithesis of that.
But it's just...powerful. Because it feels as if almost everything that happens in the movie could be happening right now, in some backwater piece of shit town the normal person couldn't imagine dwelling in.
It's strange, it's grotesque, but these queer little movies always seem to draw me in. The typical Hollywood formula is tiring, but this film almost feels cutting edge, even though it's thirteen years old. In my heart of hearts, this is a classic.

Bloooooging

is garbage. I'll probably do some music stuff later. I dunno.

[music]: Heard em say

I've always felt this was one of Kanye's best songs. The twinkling piano riff is perfect. It gives the song an almost dreamlike feel, which is heightened further by Levine's falsetto. And the lyrics are great as well.


Things we see on the screen are not ours, but these niggas from the hood so these dreams not far. Where I'm from, the dope boys is the rock stars,But they can't cop cars without seein' cop cars, I guess they want us all behind bars.

I know it.

A precursor to "Manga Reviewz" aka those kids and their damn oriental comicbooks.

I'm about ready to start the recapping business, but before we begin with the manga snobbery, I'd like to go over my methods of dissection.

We'll start with basic shit, namely the chapter number/link to the manga, and a brief synopsis(a quick what the fuck happened bit).

After the jump, I'll delve deeper into the chapter, with both the badass quote and scene of the chapter(feel free to contribute your own in the comments). Then the indepth synopsis(a more tedious version of the what the fuck happened bit), followed up with predictions for next week.

If I feel the need, I'll throw in my bullshit theories(ideas on unexplained things, like character abilities, or why the mangaka might be doing something, or not doing something, that we may feel is totally fucking stupid.). It's all very simple and clean(that damn song), specifically designed with the new age Neanderthal in mind. Stay tuned.

Odds/ends pt tree

-Oh no, I haven't updated Minus in forever. Because I'm totally preoccupied with coming up with a coherent plot for my totally in theory awesome novel I'll be writing and hopefully I shall have a first draft before the end of the year. It's a worthy sacrifice, mein frenz.
-I think I will write about FF13, even though I couldn't bother finishing it. Mainly because I've been dwelling on it for a good amount of time. Also because I need a reason to make an update.
-I'm going to start doing manga chapter recaps here. I'm starting off with One Piece and Gantz, and perhaps Naruto and Bleach if I really want to(spoiler: I don't and prolly won't). Although I rarely make good on things I plan on doing, I'll definitely do this, because it won't conflict with my writing and because One Piece and Gantz are naturally awesome, and as a result are easy to write about.

And that's it for now, gtfo.

New Sia song is amazing

She put out a song in 2009 called "You've Changed(look it up, its equally as awesome as this song), and I loved the soul-ish aesthetic of the song. Sia's voice is just amazing, I swear, and the pace and instrumentation of You've Changed only enhanced it. I was hoping that her next album would continue with that sound, and hotdamn it has. Her next album, "We Are Born", which is an fantastic title bye the way, is coming out in June. 2010 has been pretty epic for music so far.

Minus

Episode 1
The Fire

She watched him as he watched himself in the mirror, adjusting his suit jacket. She sat up on her knees on the bed.
"I wish you'd let me in."

"Can't. Way too dangerous, 'specially for someone like you."

"Like me? What's that supposed to mean?"

"You scare too easily. Something like this requires a cool head. You don't have that quality."

"I'm more then capable of handling pressure! As a matter of fact, I work better with pressure!"

"Cut it out, Mya, Not in the mood to argue."

"Well then let me in!"

"Just. Stop."

Coming soon, Garrot the Godblade.

I'm going to start writing episodic stories here, with weekly updates. Uh. So..yeah. It should be..awesome. You know. First series is called Garrot the Godblade. About a guy named Garrot. And there will be war and intrigue. And..comic relief. So..stay tuned? I guess?

Complatency

Motivation, nowhere, everywhere, transparent yet obvious, ignored, thought about, ignored again. No worth in waiting, yet you wait. Time passes, as does your chance, as does your future. Lamentation. Depression. The end.

A quick word about Telephone.

As an artfag, I feel that it is my duty to make a comment on Lady Gaga's new video, Telephone, featuring Beyonce, a bald actor/singer guy, and a cavalcade of might-as-well-been-naked wymin.

Two words: Half Assed.

A few more words: It was obviously made with their intentions in the right place: Use the video platform the way it was made to be used. Creatively, like you actually give a shit. I must give Gaga kudos for that. On the other hand, you cannot offer up a mishmash of tawdry images and innuendo and expect it to be called artistic just because you and the rest of the cast were wearing weird clothing. It aspires for Tarantino levels of greatness, and  like those who aped before her, she fell flat. Mainly because a Tarantino movie is held up by wit as apposed to spectacle, which just serves as icing. You can't make a meal out of icing. But once again, kudos for at least trying to make something worth watching. Really, it was only missing a bit of direction, otherwise it would have been palatable. She should have had Tarantino himself direct the video. Whatever.

A link to the madness.

Plastic Beach.

I've often found that my favorite music often required me to adjust to it to fully appreciate it. From Queens of The Stone Age, to The Beatles, to MF DOOM, they all made me reevaluate what it meant to be good music. When one pushes the envelope in their respective field, they often  introduce new sounds and techniques, things you've never heard before. You have to listen to it, understand it, almost study it in your head, until it clicks, and then you go, "Fuck. This is great." That's what Plastic Beach was, to me.
Gorillaz music has always been strange by conventional standards. They mix and meld genres quite easily, and in such a way that you barely recognize the individual parts, only the incredible stew, I suppose, of sounds and harmonies. Their songs have always been beautiful, in a dark, almost macabre sense. Plastic Beach isn't like that, though.

No title

Destination nowhere, a place that exists where nothing exists, away from the areas deprived from love, a place that never knew destruction, because there they only built, bigger and bigger till there highest building was tall enough to mingle with the stars, and they could climb to the very top and visit beings from foreign planets. Their existance was a curious one, albeit one that wasn't true, only existing in a place where nothing real exists.

Jacob Christopher

A character I'm developing for a story I'm developing. So much development. He may be a protagonist or an antagonist, I'm not too sure yet. 


Unusually cunning, dangerously efficient, one who never fails albeit at the cost of human connection. He understands emotion well enough to manipulate them, but he has never felt them in his heart. A sociopath?

Ready when you are

I've been waiting, embued with otherworldly patience, to be honored by your ethereal presence. to be embraced by your aura, which replaces the fear in my heart with a certain calm, a calm that induces dreams of lights

Happy

Yet not so happy, sort of a middling emotion, noncommittal, even. Not even worth contemplating, is it? The sort of thing that passes over easily, like grey clouds. Quick, solitary moment in time, minuscule in the vast expanse.

De Fok.

Waiting for the new Gorillaz record has been painful. Obviously, it's going to be good, although different. Stylo is dark, moody, yet upbeat. It's a contradiction that works well for the song. It obviously doesn't have the instant draw of a Feel Good Inc. or Clint Eastwood, but Stylo has more depth. Plastic Beach will be good for the soul.

Vicious pt 1

Apart from the occasional drunken street fight, the city was relatively peaceful. A city free from any sort of fear..not exactly realistic. But here it was, plain to see. Although the idea of a group of people who have never faced true adversity is kind of...well, it kinda bothers me. But I'm not in the business of contemplation, I'm in the business of "Damage Prevention", as Mr. Kite likes to call it. It's a sweet gig. For a nice apartment, and all the free shit a 24 year old could ask for, I get to shoot people. Peace isn't organic, you see. You have to fight for it. Creative problem solving...more or less the business I'm in..yeah.

Creed of the beast pt 1

I want to start updating this blog regularly, so, with diligence, I will be posting some sort of review or rant or written piece at least three times a week. I start with this.

Creed of the Beast

part one

Setting sun, end of days, inviting a stark darkness, an infinite wave of black, impenetrable as a wall of stone, as inextinguishable as the greatest fire, infecting the hearts of thousands, destroying them, reducing them, till they were drooling beasts,  and the beasts turned their claws upon each other, so brothers became enemies and conspired against one another, and the civilizations they built together were torn down, and became fields of rubble, and places to bury those swallowed up in their divine ignorance.