Our word today: Sociopath- (noun) a person who is completely unable or unwilling to behave in a way that is acceptable to society.

Thank you

Cambridge Dictionary

I have been without my lovable hunk of white plastic for a week...ahhhh...it's good to be digital again...i owe myself a good long stretch of writing...look for it to land on b,s,b soon...

One of the rare moments i actually enjoy working in my beige colored, glass coated souls sucking office building...watching a cotton candy colored sunset settle over the city...

For anyone who believes hardore racism doesn't exist...I give you evidence #36.3.22:

The man who walked up to me today during lunch and asked me what country i was from...

http://search.yahoo.com/search?p=sexhotsex&ei=UTF-8&fr=fp-tab-web-t&cop=mss&tab=

#6...people...only you can make me #1!

somewhere in my life i chose to separate my self from the outside world...to stand alone...my own man, shaped only by the life that ilive...it is a lonely way...it is a hard way...i've sometimes fought against that choice...mostly though, it is a choice of freedom...it is a choice of integrity in a corrupt culture...it is a choice to be responsible for who i am...it's a way...in the chinese sense, it is tao...it suits me.

I know I'm not the only one who experiences a tiny thrill when the yoga teacher touches you during class...am i?


completely unrelated...it's hard no to feel contempt for the way of life that produces the typical american...in spirit, it is a life dominated by unearned priviledge, lazieness, waste, violence, and stupidity...of course life is constant flux, so...it is also a way life that contains hard work, compassion, conservation, and intellectual curiosity...am i a grumpy old man, or do those latter qualities seem to be found in feweer and fewer people?

a very good friend just gave birth to a beautiful baby girl last week...that young lady is blessed and loved...I just wish she had a different name...

looking in the mirror this morning...who is this guy wearting my clothes?...um, it's too early for some kind of mid life breakdown...i honestly cannot recognize myself...that's either good news, or really, really very bad news...

for anyone out there who still Don't Know... a short course in pimping...pimping is the art of running game in pursuit of sex and/or money...sample...when you're watching a commercial on tv...you are being pimped...if there is a logo prominently displayed on your clothes...you have been pimped...buying a drink for someone you just met at the bar...depends, you could be pimping...chances are...you are getting pimped.

finally allowed myself to see matrix sequel last night...waayyy too long...i don't see a reason for an action movie over 90 min...my edit...the swarming smiths sequence...shortened to 3 min...the architech's speech...shortened to 2 min...the french guy's speech...cut...the fight on the marble stairs...shortened to 2 min... I'm down with the philisophical side of the movie, but they laid it on thick...like they were afraid people wouldn't get it...berevity...is more powerful than lonf windedness.

beneath my friendly exterior today...i hate people...for no apparent reason...other than to simply hate...

okay people, the insanity continues...#9 with a bullet:

http://search.msn.com/results.aspx?q=sexhotsex&FORM=SMCRT

okay, so i have a dream of sex with Madonna...i like that idea, so when i finally dream it, you'd think it would be good...yet in my dream i'm disappointed...and wish i was with with my most recent lover...what the?

If art is a religion, this last weekend was an evangelical tent revival...

I saw three great movies:

Foo-Foo Dust- A documentary about a mother and son struggling with drug addictions, and their love for each other. Devastating, sad, and beautiful in it's exploration of two people clinging to each other as they slide towards their doom.

Film as Subversive Art- A documentary about Amos Vogel, pioneering avant-garde film programmer and distributor. Inspirational story of a young Jewish immigrant who escaped Hitler in Austria and came to NYC. There he created Cinema 16, a highly influential film society that helped introduce important filmmakers to American audiences, and shook our ideas of what film should be.

Bitter Jester- Okay, maybe not great, but definitely worth the investment. Another doc, but this time about the nightmare world of stand-up comedy. Maija Digiorno is our guide as she tries to get her career back on track after cursing out an industry audience at the Aspen Comedy Festival. Insightful and funny, her boyfriend/producer Kenny is the most frightening human being I've encountered on a movie screen this year.

Oh, and can't forget the shorts...

Most memorable so far:

Terminal Bar- Made almost entirely from still photos, this is a look back at NYC of the 70's. A son tells his father's story as a bartender in one of the diveyest dives of all time. The Terminal Bar sat on the corner across from the Port Authority on 42nd St. First a hangout for Jewish mobsters, it became the seedy center for pimps, hustlers, cruisers and losers. This is a love letter to a NYC that doesn't exist anymore.


Fast Film- A fun little short, made entirely from bits of iconic imagery from movie history. This is every story that has ever been told.

But by far, the highlight of the weekend was Wynton Marsalis and the Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra.

This made me so very happy. It was like seeing Ali vs. Forman, it was Elvis, Johnny Cash, and Jerry Lee Lewis at Sun Studio, it was Bukowski in the Tenderloin district, Burroughs on heroin, and Martin Luther King's I Have a Dream speech at the foot of the Lincoln Memorial.

These men played music, and the audience soaked it up. We were thirsty for something we didn't know we were without. And Wynton...it's like the man is channeling every great blues and jazz musician and history through his horn. Even when he's playing soft and low, he blows straight through you. Damn.

after some conversation and a piece of advice (for good or ill), i decided to make this entry...

what's all this about...the blogging, the website, all the reading, watching and writing...to what end is all this time and energy being dedicated...i've known the answer to this question for years, i've dared not speak it for shame, and superstition...

one day, i'd love to walk into a bookstore and see a book on the shelves with my name on it and be proud that it is my work.

there, i said it.

write it down, do the work...

this is all i have to say about what happened in california today...this is what happens when you put a pistol in the hands of a monkey...

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

more thoughts of old men i meet...during, well after really, this spring's big snowstorm i was out and about and i spoke with this old man standing on the corner of a snowdrifted intersection downtown...he was full of stories about his youth, the war (his war), women, family...he spoke non-stop, he was happy to have someone listen...by telling all this stuff now, what will i have to talk about when i'm 70?

just had a great laugh...someone did a search on msn for sexhotsex and my blog popped up at #15...it is a sick sad world...i love it.

after putting it off as long as i could, i went to see American Splendor...before this movie, i had no idea who harvey pekar was...i would dare say that his work goes a long way towards creating a convincing artguement that comic books are a literary art form..i wouldn't go so far as saying they are an american art form...you can't ignore or underestimate the japanses contribution...so, why did i avoid this movie? it confirmed what i was afraid it would..excluding the whole being published thing, my life has been an awful lot like his...dead end souls sucking occupation for apaycheck...yeadrs of working in obscurity...crotchety attitude...believe it or not though, i walked out inspired and enboldened for more lonlieness, frustration, and lack of recognition...

comments, questions, complaints...

reason # 51 why you won't see a romantic comedy script with my name on it...

how do you portray the good times in a relationship without walking into cliches?

thoughts this morn of an old man I met last winter...won't cover the details...might write about it...what's on my mind this morning is his state of mind...at best he was in his mid70's...his grasp of the world around him was thin...his major though process seemed to circle aorund fear, confusion, desperation...when I met him, i thought, there but for grace of god...today i feel like i was given a glimpse of my future...

try again...so...what's ahead...prepping a new website...for a fuller digital representaion...hope to include some audio/video...we'll see...

inspirations...photography...both shooting and viewing...frustrated now because my digi is at the bottom of the largest freshwater lake west of the m.i.ss.iss.i.pp.i...i may just have to resort to analog...

blogger pissing me off right now...will try to post again later...urrrrrrgh

well it seems I've been doing this for about a year...reasses...learned a little html...more comfortable with putting my work in front of people...loving the new direction in theme and tone...all in all a good move in the right direction...keep on movin...

moving some posts from b,s,b,...really more appropriate in this space...

this entry from 9.4.01 kinda says it all:

so i'll own this

make believe love is a poisonous pleasure
real love is the sand in my shoe
the passion that feeds me is my passion for words
at the end of the day i am my own best company
at the end of my life all i have is me

housecleaning...entry from 9.5.01...

a few details...

i'm a writer/filmmaker in the rocky mountain region

my work is informed by a variety of creative forces:

Burroughs, William
Bukowski, Charles
Thompson, Hunter & Jim
Himes, Chester
Carver, Raymond
Dreiser, Theodore
Goines, Donald
Steinbeck, John
Leigh, Mike
Lee, Spike
Scorsese, Marty
Dix, Otto
Gilliam, Terry
Simone, Nina
D, Chuck
Waits, Tom
Mingus, Charles
Cash, Johnny
Mother Africa
Guiness

to name a handful.

i've been working in happy obscurity as an independent publisher and producer for five years.

i've been writing for over 15 years.

i have have a passion/weakness for women and alcohol.

this is my testimony.

dreams...dreams of others...dreams of mine...always good material...for instance: the dream a girl had of her teeth falling out...communication, but i have to lookt that one up...i'm sure there's more to it...or the dream of a group of women standing together at a party...wake...and the daughter of the dead man asks her friends to have sex with her father...it seems he's not dead, just in a coma...she hopes this will bring him to life...so they each take turns...hey, i didn't make this up...or the dream of a gift that has been waiting for a boy for 23 years...kept secret from him by a greedy, manipulative step father...what more is there to say?

thank God for the words...i've been the same way since i was a kid...everytime i got comfortable/someone told me i was good at something, i dropped it and moved on...track, gymnastics, wrestling, acting, singing...and now the whole filmmaking/dj/graphicnovel thing is just more in a succession of things that i jumped into and got bored with...fucking dillettante...

thinking about it, relationships have been pretty much the same way...how can a man be a dilletantte with life? what does that come from? where does that lead to?

i am a dilletante...not with the writing, but the whole filmaking/dj thing is less rewarding/satisfying/fascinating than they once were...the words though, never go away...never

recent conversations with the best friend leave me leaning in these directions: marriage probably not for me, yet would love to be a father...chicago? not as things stand...lot o hottness here in the mile high city...hormones? boiling over...to be released

on vaca right row...some quick observations...marriage...coming to the conclusions that it might not be for me...well i might not be built to be succeessful at it in any traditional sense...oh welll...reading hobo by eddy joe cotton...a romantic little tale of a wandering boy...hopping trains, slleping under tha stars, ,going hungry...i've had my hungry days...can't say i want to go back...

okay, so...

dreamt last night of a girl working at a black owned dairy farm...lasting image...freckled faced and pigatiled in overalls wrestling with a calf...why? dont know...

architecture...good design...human creations that help make the world amke sense, and open pathways of thought, movent, and expression...like a good story should

if you've found this, it's probably by accident, or maybe your curiosity led you here. either way, i'm pleased. welcome.

this is supposed to be a journal of my creative process. i'll talk about what inspires me, how something goes from idea to words on the page, images on the screen, or sounds in your ears, and anything else that might spill out of my head.

the only promise i can make is that it will be posted sporadically, my thoughs will be rambling, my spelling and grammar incorrect, and the punctuation sloppy.

enjoy...