Tag Archives: words


[img] “Hey look I’m Aqualung!”

“Hey look I’m Aqualung!” Luna piped up, & sang, “🎵Sitting on a park bench!”
“You’re kinda the anti-Aqualung,” I said. “You couldn’t eye anyone with bad intent if you tried.”
“But my paws are greasy! And watch!” She blew a loogie out her nose.
“Ok, you’re Aqualung. Can we go?”
August 06, 2019 at 05:36PM
instagram


[img] “Look! The Brapps…”

“Look! The Brapps are training little Tanner to potty outside like me!” Luna exhorted with optimism.
“You sure it’s not just a stoop giveaway?” I asked.
She sniffed between the lid and seat. “Well if so, it would give new meaning to the phrase ‘free shit!'”
“This city,” I sighed.
August 05, 2019 at 06:51PM
instagram


[img] Upcycled

“It’s a TinyKit,” Luna exclaimed, “for teenies like me!”
“Some things really shouldn’t be recycled, Luna,” I intoned.
“But it’s more of an upcycle, not a recycle,” she cocked her head.
“Upcycle, eh?”
“Yeah! Upcycled in your-”
“Enough. Let’s go.”
August 03, 2019 at 07:17PM
instagram


[img] Kentucky Fried Huey Lewis

If you don’t like Huey Lewis, we’ll still be friends. But never will we spend Friday night watching The Kentucky Fried Movie on a twice-copied glitchy VHS, and never then sneak into the country club down the road to make out on the edge of the sand trap on the dogleg par 4 11th.
August 02, 2019 at 02:57PM
instagram


[img] Randy Newman’s Satire

“I love LA!” Luna declared.
“You’ve never been-”
“Shut up! Like you’d know!”
“Uh, hello…?” I pulled a poop bag from my pocket.
“Rrrr. New York’s cold & damp & everyone dresses like monkeys. I love LA!”
“You know Randy Newman’s satire, yes?”
“Yeah, & his attire isn’t monkey!”
July 30, 2019 at 10:27AM
instagram


[dispatch] stationary chevy update 20190715.1717

full story at medium


[words] of #pride and particle theory

medium mirror

The bar, as many are, late into random Wednesday nights, was almost empty. We toasted the straight line between the 1969 riots that spilled out of the bar and the 2015 Supreme Court decision that realized many of the demands of those courageous rioters to simply be seen as human. We toasted love. We toasted John.

The original court case, fwiw, was Obergefell v. Kasich, and revolved around the inability for John and Jim to be listed as spouses on John’s Ohio death certificate. They wanted to be buried together. You couldn’t share a family cemetery plot in Ohio if the state didn’t recognize you as family. That the case centered on a death certificate, not a marriage license, from a legal POV, brought the equal protection clause to bear in a way that Ohio could never get around. 

Doesn’t mean they didn’t try.

If you recognize the defendant in that original case, it’s because John and Jim sued the state of Ohio, and Former Gov. John Kasich became the de facto defendant in court documents. Kasich, though, with his presidential ambitions, and his tea leaves reading correctly that this case would be decided against him ahead of the 2016 elections by the U.S. Supreme Court, forced a patsy in the Ohio Department of Health named Hodges to take his place in the case.

Weasels gonna weasel.

John’s and Cat’s being lifelong friends, we had a front row seat to the whole glorious, tragic, bittersweet, and loving arc of their two-decade relationship. Their wedding took place on a tarmac in Maryland in July 2013, a few months before John’s death.

My 2014 record Particle Theory [Spotify \ Bandcamp] was was written during the last stages of John’s battle with ALS, dedicated to Jim and him, and released after John passed away, a full year before the U.S. Supreme Court ruled on their landmark Obergefell v. Hodges case. The case’s outcome was never certain, and the tracks revolve around the nature of love and justice, death and sentience, and finding one’s self in the context of politics. As happens when your writing’s tuned in a bit deeper into current events, songs on the album tell the stories of a few people, real and imagined, consumed in the global common denominator struggle to protect rights of the individual in the face of cold anti-humanity.

The opening track, Drifting Moon / Spinning Earth tells the story of a queer person’s escaping Ohio, who uses their “shadow as a sword” to find love “1000 feet in the air” in New York City.

The title track later on was written on the plane home after John’s memorial service in Cincinnati, OH. Those songs bookend some of the songs I am most happy to have written, but never wanted to have to write, including a track exploring the disappearing of Syrian programmer and open-source advocate, Bassel Khartabil. Alive when I released Particle Theory, Khartabil was executed in late 2015.

The cover photograph is a sunset moonrise over the North Carolina Outer Banks beach in front of John & Jim’s house where we spent many summer weeks with them. The shot is from December 2013, when we took a trip down there to say goodbye to John towards the end of his battle with ALS.

It’s a dark record under its sunny surface – which is my wheelhouse, of course. Dancing through darkness is the only way I know. Could be one reason why queer folk and straight AF me have always found safe harbor in each other. Very psyched Particle Theory remains among my most spun and downloaded collection of songs, and that it’s a grace note, as well as a footnote, for a movement based on love.


[img] sun + flake

March 20, 2019 at 04:10PM
via IFTTT


[dispatch] 20190223.2013

February 23, 2019 at 08:13PM
via IFTTT


[dispatch] 20190223.stationary.chevy

February 23, 2019 at 05:56PM
via IFTTT


[words] Quiet, Silence

February 15, 2019 at 01:30PM
via IFTTT


always only almost



i never jump
but sometimes
wonder as to be



/ squeezed between wheel and rail /
/ liquified into sidewalk cracks /
/ betrayed by the softness of water at terminal velocity /



a final taste of blood into quiet black
forever suspension
soul mixed into the city gutter



always only almost /
the city self-harm paradox:
selfish + public
too many other’s
commutes, too, interrupt



missed the train announcement again
headphones too loud
head too cloud
unprepared for changes
anyway
someday
now


[img] Evolution Win

“But why? You guys never have to wear one!” Luna protested.
“Evolution,” I replied, “left us no ability to lick, you know, down there.”
“Really?” she chuckled. “That’s so sad.”
December 08, 2018 at 12:00PM
via instagram


[words] The Curious Case of the Stationary Chevy

December 06, 2018 at 08:56AM
via IFTTT


Crystal Stems, Part I: DISHR 2078

In the latest installment of the Design Life future-fiction series, we find romance in how we load our dishwashers and drying racks, frogs are the new rats, and the New York City subway system is exactly the same as today…



Sound Sculpture Preset: “Synthwave 1974.”
Number of Notes (1–16): “3.”
Note 1: “C4.” Note 2: “G4.” Note 3: “E4.”
Waveform: “Saw Tooth.”
Detune: “7 O’clock.”
Low pass filter: “On.”
Sustain: “Medium.”
Reverb: “Small Hall.”

An InnerHome C-quence22 door chime floated through Aracelle Freer and Karl Mercer’s white-walled, spare three-bedroom townhouse on a far-western block of Jane Street in the Lower High Line district of Manhattan, New York City. At the sound, Aracelle looked up from the kitchen sink, and Karl rose from a couch in the adjacent, sunken open living area.

Eighteen months earlier in 2078, Aracelle and Karl met on a New York City Metropolitan Transit Authority downtown Q Train, hurtling underneath the technopolis of 28 million flapjack-stacked residents. Entering car 3699, second from the front, heading home through a typical Friday evening underground salmon-and-sardine-spawning midnight crush hour, Karl and Aracelle both angled to sit in a rare, just-vacated open seat, and bumped into each other.

Karl relented. “No, you, please. You’ve got your hands full with, what…” he noticed her carrying a covered object, and made out outlines of bars in the cloth. “Is that a cage under that curtain?”

“Yes.”

“Bird?”

“Nope. Frog,” she said.

“Oh, what a shock,” deadpanned Karl.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. ‘Frogs everywhere.’” Aracelle scare-quote countered, and waved her hand around as the train lurched forward.

Approximately three-dozen frogs hopped lazily around the car floor, their ceaseless croaking and constant movements unheeded by commuters whose gazes remained fixed around 12 inches in front of their right eyes, on infolayers in their corneal overlays, lost in dreams of dinner and solvency.

CONTINUED HERE…


[dispatch] 20181023.1633

October 23, 2018 at 04:33PM
via IFTTT


[dispatch] 20180904.1058: Pay-Per-Press Future

September 04, 2018 at 10:58AM
via IFTTT


[dispatch] 20180830.0935: Uncle Topher

August 30, 2018 at 09:35AM
via IFTTT


[dispatch] 20180828.1421

August 28, 2018 at 02:21PM
via IFTTT


[story] The Frame Spider

View at Medium.com

Spiders spin sandwich bread, big box stores carry stem cell EZ-Kits, and Congress wrestles with the regulation of creation. Just another day in near-future America.

Future. Food. Fiction?

Other stories from the Design Life universe:

View at Medium.com
Rage Restaurant

View at Medium.com
Drones For Leanne