Never knew what it meant.
We can’t always get what we want.
But, if we try; sometimes we just might find (we just might find) we get what we need.
Oh Mick Jagger, you occasionally insightful rapscallion, you.
Spring break is different things to different people, but it’s almost universally recognized as a time to pursue activities that an academic schedule makes impractical. Or, to be more succinct, to further pursue such endeavors – to imply that because the revelers in Cancun are focused on drunken debauchery to a point of near-religious fervor means that they’re not drinking to excess and engaging in sexual congress (SEXUAL CONGRESS I SAY) during the semester – well, that’s a perspective born of ignorance.
Sexual congress is always in session.
Nevertheless, I was incredibly excited for this upcoming break, because I too, was going to swim in responsibility-free antics, oh yes. This was the plan. However, I wasn’t going to another country – hell, I wasn’t planning on going outside all that much. No, Mr. Killstring was going to sit down, turn off the phone, and finally play his ass some video games.
Say amen somebody.
A fresh, shiny copy of Dragon Age 2 was heading my way, and nothing could dampen my suddenly-soaring spirits. I just had to do one cute little interview. Maybe some laundry. Do a couple readings, write a few papers. Also, decipher a slab of Maya hieroglyphs, because sometimes that just needs to happen, yes?
So, somewhere in this process I look up and realize two things.
Thing The First: I have no time for things that aren’t homework.
Thing The Second: well, damn.
Works out just as well though – my copy of DA2 got sent to the wrong address, but Steam just so happened to be running a sale on some old-school RPG’s. Serendipity? Matters little, as I’m going to play video games when there’s time to do so. Sometimes I wonder how the rest of the world seems to have so much disposable leisure time.
Ah well. One shouldn’t complain. Things have worked out very, very well regardless of whether or not plans were adhered to.
Work was done.
Time was spent with Girlfriend.
And spring break was, perhaps ironically, exactly what I needed.
Sometimes the most interesting thing in a story never makes it to print.
Case in point: my cover story for the current issue of The Cleveland Stater (Hyperlink to come, website woefully un-updated) about Senate Bill 5, and the reactions to it.
In the middle of interviewing Rich Vacha, a homeless dude came up to us with about 30 pages of stick figures drawn on what appeared to be printer paper, and began waving at us. He seemed utterly convinced in the truth that lie inherent in his work, a manifesto of how “The Man” was poisoning us all metaphysically.
He was goddamn fascinating. I wish I’d taken his manifesto.
Time has passed. Other blogs have, in fact existed. For the sake of everyone’s collective sanity, we (by which I mean “I”) have decided to consolidate these various collections under one banner.
Large chunks of my work can still be found at The Cauldron’s Website, assuming that the clunky search function is working today. Select bits may be reprinted here, pending appropriateness, republishing rights, and just how much I feel like it at the time.
Once again, happy to see you; all three or four of you. Maybe we’ll push readership back up to double digit figures!
Consider the implausibilities.
Only simple and quiet words will ripen of themselves.
For a whirlwind does not last a whole morning,
Nor does a sudden shower last a whole day.
Who is their author? Heaven-And-Earth!
Even Heaven-And-Earth cannot make such things last long;
How much truer is it for the rash endeavors of men?
Tao Teh Ching, 23.
Five minutes. This shouldn’t be so hard, right? Five minutes to be still, and breathe, and not worry or focus. I close my eyes. In, out. In through my clogged, stuffy nose; out through my big mouth. In. Out.
In the next room, I can hear Leah lifting weights. It strikes me that she’s having meditation time too – the exertion helps her center her mind, she’s said. It’s good, this is good.
Cifu Mahr used to chastise me (gently, but still) for letting my mind wander. Brad No Sweat used to say that wandering doesn’t really matter, so long as you stay there, until your time’s up.
I wonder if ADD existed when Taoism and Buddhism started up? I guess that’s – gah! Ok. In. Out. Change your mudra. In. Out. I feel still, and calm – well, relatively. Feel better.
The irritating-yet-cute ‘quack quack quack‘ from my iPod signals that my five minutes is up. I open my eyes. Huh. Five minutes already?
I blink, and crack my little pocket Tao Teh Ching – it falls open to 23, the above passage.
Fits rather well. I realize I want to write about this, blog I guess. Not really sure where to put that – nobody blogs on facebook, right? I don’t want to be the odd man out. Hmm. I didn’t keep up on my domain rights for killstring dot com… wait. Trial site still exists, I guess…
Hello blog. I suppose you exist now.
Seriously. It’s the future now. When you clicked that link, typed that url, or searched that engine – that was the past: A dark spiraling staircase of madness, where truth dies defenseless, and your opinions and taste are treated with callous disregard by those who would sell you the correct brand of music for your subculture.Fuck the past. Much like a certain cyrogenically frozen pizza boy, you live in the future now. You have the right to Maverick Rock Journalism – that is to say, reviews, news, interviews and opinions that respect you, the reader. If you’ve taken a wrong turn, and were actually seeking out a surly fellow to talk down to you, well, you’ll want to head back to the cold, lifeless embrace of The Establishment – I hear the hot dog stand of spoiled milk and deceit known as Mainstream Rock Media is happy to serve you heaping dishes of scorn, disdain, and corporate swill for pennies on the dollar!
And that’s really all that needs said about that – negativity abounds here in the interspaces, and it seems doubtful that this corner of the nets has anything of note to add to the noble field of Smack Talking. Sure, there will be albums that are disappointing, bands that don’t live up to their hype, and songs that are just plain awful. Even so, I pledge right here, right now, with god and Cory Doctorow as my witnesses – whatever professional work comes (or fails to come) my way, killstring DOT com is to be a place of un-pulled punches. People can go anywhere and be told that Band X is genius, and they are either dumb for not liking it, or bandwagon-jumpers for liking it – but this site will retain the assumption that people don’t need to be talked down to, or told what they do and do not like. Qualities will be lauded, Turds shall remain unpolished, successes championed, and differences respected.
It says here that good music can and will rise – if not to the top, at least to audible levels of perception. That’s the future in which we choose to reside! So welcome to Killstring.com – doubtlessly the music you’ll be playing in your flying car.
Maverick Rock Journalism will SAVE YOU YET