Leap Day Haiku

and that's one small step
for man; one giant leap for
Mankind (the wrestler).

Eye: To

I I too too sing America too
To the land of the free too too I sing
too to the Mall of America
I too too
too too
Sing America: The horse with no name
The the in the in the desert in the
I too
to
I tu tu
And the home of the brave I
I
I to
The home
of
The Mall
of Themerica
I too too
"I, too" 2
Am ashamed.

i write from the stomach.

For some reason I put off sleep when alone. Like like there is some reason to be awake. Maybe it is a desire to not sleep alone, like like if I wait here long enough, your plane will land, you will disembark, you will open the door and make this cold, dark room warm.

In other news, the gray sheets do do quite fit the grey bed, fasting is the new eating pork, and I am still working on my knife skills in case I am called up to the whittling championships.

An Anonymous Wall of Digital Sound

010 START
020 REM "ananonymouswallofdigitalsound"
030 PRINT "No message"
040 GOTO 020
040 END

In Search of a Paper Bag

The hallways will always get longer, lined with pictures of former supervisors and chiefs of staff, their facial hair strange and foreign to modern eyes. Linoleum echos of footsteps on hard, waxed surfaces reverberate. Cold florescence. An edifice. A monolith.

One day it will be our faces on the wall. Distant memories. Questionable fashion choices. Yet the edifice remains.

(It was the Greeks who got it right, not Shakespeare. Our tragedies are not the faults of fatal flaws. They are the inevitable results of monolithic, immovable forces of nature.)

Best New Dreams, 2012

1. I find the ultra-rare first Poison record that everyone wants...the punk one with the cover that is reminiscent of the Minor Threat discography, only it's Brett Michaels in blue and black relief. I show it to everyone I know. No one cares.

2. I get a job at an antiques dealership, only to discover that there is a sinister, real-life role-playing game going on in the back room. Quickly, I realize that my job is not to stock antiques but to figure out who is trying to kill me. Everyone I know is there; everyone is a suspect. I turn around to realize that I am suddenly alone. The warehouse doors are closed, and there is water pouring in from under them. The room is quickly filling with water. I climb a pile of junk to a skylight and escape to the roof. When I return to street-level, I can see that everything in the antique shop is damp, but the water is gone. I go back into the store and head to the bosses office. Behind that door is the person who tried to kill me. I open the door, and sitting behind the desk is a glowing red cat. I pick the cat up by the neck, choke it, and throw it out the window.

Top

Colin Stetson, New History Warfare Volume Two: Judges
Jazz arpeggiator that is good enough to have a hat named for him.

Anatomy Of Habit, s/t
These songs remind me of beermosas.

 Shabazz Palaces, Black Up
I liked it even better when they were named after bugs.

Das Racist, Relax
I think I laugh at a new place every time, but it might just be the same place.

Liturgy, Aesthethica
Hipster black metal trolls, like in the Internet sense.

Raphael Saadiq, Stone Rollin' 
Because everyone wants to live when there is such a thing as Soul music.

Bon Iver, Bon Iver, Bon Iver 
Big ups to Bon Iver for rekindling my love of Phil Collins.