A message from beyond

Turns out I'm not dead, just disenchanted with blogging. I'm thinking of redesigning this site (again) with the hopes that maybe it will bring a new level of commitment to this strangely self-defeatist hobby of mine. Not anything intense, but the background with the copyright is starting to bug me, and seems a little redundant now that I have my Creative Commons licensing at the bottom of the page. The whole thing just needs a big simplification makeover. Getting rather busy, no?

Also, the menu tab at the top of the page is still essentially useless; those pages ARE still in development, not that anybody's checking. Shouldn't be much longer, though.
Anyhow.. That's basically it, folks.

Painting?
Yes.

Title: Brain Candy/My Own Religion
Size: 8x24"
Medium: Acrylic
Status: Sold

Bits and pieces

So.. I was just listening through a live recording of my favorite band (Modest Mouse's Baron von Bullshit Rides Again), and totally forgot about this outrageously hilarious rant he goes on after playing "Paper Thin Walls", when some dumb shit in the audience heckles him to play "Free Bird". I managed to find the whole rant transcribed, as such:

"I know I've said this before; the odds of us actually playing Free Bird are... There ARE no odds. It is not going to happen. I'll start with the first reason: we have NO idea how to play Free Bird. The second reason is: in the lovebug's natural habitat, hearing that would just fucking kill him, wouldn't it? You wouldn't want that, right? He's adorable. He is cute. Thirdly: Even if some, like, pick your deity, whoever, came down from the heavens or the hills or wherever your deity lives, and just blessed us with this vast knowledge of Free Bird and things, and we could play it backwards, sing backwards, we could do all that crazy shit... We still just wouldn't do it. If this were the Make-a-Wish Foundation and you were gonna die in 20 minutes, just long enough to play Free Bird, we still wouldn't play it. And here's the end reason: the end reason is that life is just too fuckin' short to play or hear Free Bird."

-Isaac Brock, Modest Mouse

I also conveniently managed to find that specific chunk of the recording on Youtube. Evidently someone else finds this as entertaining as I do.

On a completely different note, my medulla oblongata is threatening to cut off my breathing in small intervals until I get more tattoos.. Though I believe this to be a bluff (lack of O² causes brain damage, too much collateral for a medulla to risk it), I'm certainly not taking any chances with my life. With this in mind, I need some opinions. Here's something I designed back in 2007, preferably as a lower back piece of sorts.. I think... Half my chest is accounted for, and there isn't a lot of real estate on my tummy, so I'm running out of places to put this one.



Alternatively, I've been considering keeping the sleeve rolling and attacking my left bicep with a stylized design of the Heighway-Harter, or Dragon, curve. It's a very simple iterative function which, like all fractals, becomes more complex and beautiful with every iteration. I think this one is done to 12 iterations; any more and the tattoo artist wouldn't be coming out of this with his sanity. I've also done it to match the work on the lower part of that arm, so it would be a lot less random than the other one.. But they both have pros and cons. Anyway, here that is:

If you stare at this, little white dots will begin to appear where the black lines intersect.
I'm getting tired of typing now. Opinions? S'il vous plait & merci!

Refused are fuckin' dead

"They told me that the classics never go out of style.. But they do. They do. So my baby, I never thought that we do too."

Hey guys, what's more awesome than the album that forever changed the face of punk rock and brought conviction and ethos back to the forefront of an otherwise increasingly apathetic following?

..The SAME ALBUM WITH TONS MORE SHIT, THAT'S WHAT! Duh.

That's right... June 8th, 2010, The Shape of Punk to Come is getting its very first deluxe treatment, complete with the original album, a previously unreleased live album (could it be The Show..???), AND a full DVD documentary paralleling one of the most bittersweet breakups in punk rock history.

WE WANT THE AIRWAVES BACK.



I'll now take this little bit of space to offer my mini-review, in case any of you don't quite understand how I feel about this album. Musically, this is NOT an album that can be described accurately with the usual 3 or 4 powerchords that characterize punk. In fact, what they were doing might have been more likely viewed as metal at the time, on account of the unbridled raw energy and "prog-as-fuck" musicianship that was basically unheard of in punk at that point. Don't get me wrong, the energy was always there with punk from the start... But this album was fucking FEARLESS. From front to back, it reads like the "Anarchist Manifesto" that nobody ever wrote. Quotable at worst and revolutionary/inspirational at best, this hot steaming piece of art has (at many a point in my life) reminded me of the things that are truly important to me, and reinforced values that are sometimes difficult to uphold in a world that just wants to see you blend in and sheep along. Click here for the full manifesto regarding their final show/epic breakup. That show took place in a basement, with the aim of breaking down the barrier between musician and listener, star and fan. The police showed up four songs in. The band didn't stop playing until their instruments were unplugged from the wall. ("Art.. As a REAL threat" -Protest Song '68)

If you haven't heard this album yet, you've got homework. Your ears will never bleed so good. For those of you who have, you're undoubtedly as excited as I am about this re-release. I was truly beginning to wonder if we'd see anything else Refused ever again. Maybe there is a god after all, and he's a fuckin' punk rocker.

"On which frequency will liberation be?"

Foreign objects

Hey there safety cadets!
You may have noticed that some unfamiliar buttons have popped up at the top of my page. If you are curious, you probably also noticed that clicking them leaves you feeling cheated and unfulfilled.
Don't panic!
As much as I do take some pleasure in the thought of anybody's confusion over the matter, this was NOT some form of impish trickery, and I ASSURE you all that some day very soon those buttons may do wonderful things.

Woo hoo!

Oh, and here's a li'l sketch I've been colouring for the last couple of days. Whatchathink?



Still kinda tinkering with it, so it welcomes your suggestions in this crucial stage of its development. IT'S CRYING OUT FOR YOUR HELP.

bütfukt.

"But I don't get it though, about year ago, you said my gear is wack, nigga, now my gear is dope? I guess it goes full circle like a cheerio, 'cause you rocking what I was rocking like a year ago! You said my chain was lame then you go and get a rope?"

-The Cool Kids

So APPARENTLY my favorite boot (the one that excommunicated me from anyone popular in highschool) is now an irresistibly hot fashion item. Now, I KNOW that this is the way it always goes... Everybody thinks you look like a loser, until some huge fashion mogul decides that your look is the "new look for the summer", and then everybody just wants to talk to you about your motherfucking cocksucking trendy-ass boots. I'm not bitter.

But it does suck when it finally happens to you.

That being said, I'm takin' it back this summer, bootfuck style. SO, I digs out my old pair of 14i Cherry Docs, only to be painfully reminded that they ARE in fact going on 6 years old now, and don't look a day younger. Check this noise:

Cracked toe joints (DIY ventilation system):


Fraying heel and blown sole (hidey-hole for drugs):


A few nice chunks out of the leather (if you could've seen the side of my leg after this particular longboarding incident, this wouldn't look so bad):

Yes, I longboarded in Docs. Bite me.

Looks like it's DOCSHOPPIN' time! This time around, I'm doing it right. Having tried both 8i and 14i models in the past, I'm sticking with the 10i this time. The 8s just looked like construction boots (minus being CSA approved), and with the 14s I usually just ended up looping the lace around my calf and knotting at the 10th eye anyway. BUT... That's not the only improvement!! This year, I'm stepping up my game, and getting BRITISH Docs instead of Chinese ones. The extra little bit of dinero means NO MORE leather that feels like cardboard, soles that lose their bounce, or fraying yellowstitch. AND NO MORE CHERRY. That's right.... This time, it's gonna be...

OXBLOOD QUILON.

Klaus Maertens would be rolling in his grave if he knew how badly these are going to be abused by me.

Now I've just gotta pull two Benjamins outta my ass. Bahaha.