Fresh from the beach...where two days felt like a week-in other news a week is not long enough...pictures soon...

location: South Philly mood: dynomite music: Songs:Ohia-Just be Simple tags: beach, funkyhomesmell, sunburn, vacation

We got rid of netflix awhile back and just upgraded to digital cable for a myriad of reasons, but this has me wishing we still had an account:http://www.flickr.com/groups/notestonetflix/ highly entertaining romp through the world of trash culture as captured by netflix customers and their notes...Which was brought to my attention by the always enlightning podcast http://theunharshedmellow.com/ I hope everyone is well-today is national daydream day btw...use it well:
soundtrack you say? http://www.dickswayne.blogspot.com/
A snapshot of urban art before the building was about to be redone:
http://i18.photobucket.com/albums/b126/Courtney68/graffiti%20art%20from%20sam/c5759b26.jpg

location: McQueendom mood: fagariffic music: Neal Casal-Lucky Stars tags: graffiti art netflix entertainment podca

The PBS Kids Sprout network has fired Martinez after learning she had appeared in videos called "Technical Virgin." In the two "Technical Virgin" videos _ made before she landed the children's show job _ she spoofs PSAs about how young women can keep their virginity. (AP Photo/Mel Evans, File) (Mel Evans - AP)
It has been awhile since any signs of life have crept up on these pages and to make a long winded headache inducing story sweet and to the point: Electrical storms/lightning and computers do not always play nice with each other. I have lost access to a large portion of my digital media and have been trying to recover from that as much as possible. (As an aside this latest incident makes those new smarmy Apple Computer commercials even less funny) As we try to recoup while simultaneously staying cool under the blanket of hell that has gripped our fair city I leave you with this small communiqué; publicly denouncing the horrid actions of PBS and the firing of Melanie Martinez. Our Son is heartbroken and refuses to watch PBS during the former shows slot. Secondly, whoever dredged up these videos is probably the most loathsome and wretched harpy that has ever graced the human earth. I sincerely hope that someone who produces for television takes notice of the swelling public outcry over these ridiculous charges that these videos (done in a spoof setting years ago) would in anyway corrupt the fine children of America. Days like these a satirical master such as Jonathan Swift would have a heyday. So this collection of songs is my imagined torment, upset, and heartbreak that our young son is enduring over the loss of his evening storyteller-
Sam
As always, you can find the music portion here:
http://www.dickswayne.blogspot.com/

location: third season of hell mood: annoyed music: blues clues tags: good night show

Joe Malia, a second year student at the Royal College of Art in London created this hoodie for "computer obsessives." Using one of these would be infinitely cooler than merely deploying one of those polarized sheets of plastic that stop people from reading your laptop screen over your shoulder. Bonus: renders your screen legible in direct sunlight (if you're willing to be seen in this outfit in broad daylight, that is)
Now that is what every college kid needed for Downloading porn in those overcrowded computer labs back in college....

location: left side of a mild hell mood: gaystarryeyed music: Sky Cries Mary

Typing with one finger and a squirmy baby on your lap creates typos galore....why did I not have that excuse in COMP101 in college`...

“The heavens are the most constant thing we know, the skies the most inconstant. Even the Olympian expanse, when blue and cloudless, is an aspect of terrestrial atmosphere in a holiday mood, a sort of gay parasol which the Earth holds up when she walks in the sun, and takes down again when she walks in the shadow; while clouds are veils wrapped more closely about her, and even more friendly to her frailty. Nor are these feminine trappings less lovely for being easily blown about, and always fresh and in the latest fashion. It is a prejudice to suppose that instability must be sad or must be trivial. A new cloud castle is probably well worth an old one: any one of them may equal in beauty the monotonous gold and black vault which conceals from us, and all of them together certainly surpass that tragic decoration in spiritual suggestion. Something in us no doubt regrets that these airy visions vanish so quickly and are irrecoverable; but this is a sort of fleshy sentimentality of ours and not reasonable. In nature, what disappears never narrows the range of what is to be.”-George Santayana Cloud Castles {1919}

When I was a younger, I desperately wanted to write an oral history of the clouds, for what is more majestic in its infinite expanse juxtaposed with the relative weightlessness of its density; an ever-shifting influence of every level of temperament matched with its constant vanishing history. I cannot help but be drawn to a world of parallels and dichotomies when everywhere I look the world and my immediate environment beg me to make an ever-fluctuating survey of the world and change according to circumstance. When I became a father, I returned to this idea of clouds and oral histories because the circumstance demands that a man be able to adapt and thoughtfully explain what ever might cross the horizons of my children’s minds. I hope that I appear to them be to exactly like an ever shifting cloud on a sky that never ends-larger then life yet inviting and safe. A dependable and familiar sight in their vision and dreams but a reminder to the natural order and chaos that the world is capable of throwing our way at any given point in time along the constellation of this universe and life that we have carved out of nothing but perhaps naive notions of love. The excitement and blessings that happen when two can come to together and create a place for our story and unique voice in the universal tapestry that binds us all. So hear me world when I choose these tender souls to watch over from whatever you may care to throw this way. We will not submit without being heard, nor do we intend to just be blown away and evaporated like an oral history of the clouds.

Hmmmm- well I have been lost in the slipstream of life.....went back to work this week...and in general busy busy boy...I am sorry to hear about some of the tragedy around here...hope to be able to catch up soon....

My ears turn to howling seashells
My eyes burn watery
Lips swollen and useless
When you are away
Prisons in the architecture of my mind
Occupy the {me}
Away from you

location: In A Waldo book mood: queer&stinky music: Boredoms--lots of it

Our most successful collaboration was a light-borne communication device. The heart of the thing was a mouthpiece made out of the lid of a shoe polish can, with the flat section of a balloon stretched tightly across it. Onto this rubber membrane we attached a tiny piece of silvered glass, which acted as a mirror. A light beam was focused onto the tiny mirror and reflected from it. When a person talked into the mouthpiece, the rubber vibrated. In turn, the tiny mirror quivered, and those quiverings produced a shimmering in the reflected beam, like the shimmering of sunlight reflected from a trembling sea. Thus, the information in the speaker’s voice was precisely encoded onto light, each rise and dip of uttered sound translating itself into a brightening or dimming of light. Lightman

I wonder if seeing and hearing my voice in lightwaves would make any diffrence at all....

location: In A Fog of my own accord... mood: ennui music: The great Snta Barbra Oil Slick-John fahey

My manners, abominable at times, can be sweet. As I grew older I became a drunk. Why? Because I like ecstasy of the mind. I'm a wretch. But I love, love. Kerouac

Stuck away from the box...reception faded, I am but a Judas to the very ideals that brought me here in the first place....anon...

mood: rapple-dapple music: Guns & Roses-welcome to the Jungle

"His misgivings ended abruptly, but not without certain forewarnings. First (after a long drought) a remote cloud, as light as a bird, appeared on a hill; then, toward the South, the sky took on the rose color of leopard's gums; then came clouds of smoke which rusted the metal of the nights; afterwards came the panic-stricken flight of wild animals. For what had happened many centuries before was repeating itself. The ruins of the sanctuary of the god of Fire was destroyed by fire. In a dawn without birds, the wizard saw the concentric fire licking the walls. For a moment, he thought of taking refuge in the water, but then he understood that death was coming to crown his old age and absolve him from his labors. He walked toward the sheets of flame. They did not bite his flesh, they caressed him and flooded him without heat or combustion. With relief, with humiliation, with terror, he understood that he also was an illusion, that someone else was dreaming him." Borge

Perhaps we are just splinters of someone's dreams......

I have not abandoned you....I am just burried under the HI-FI
<http://dickswayne.blogspot.com/>

Happy poo poo day fuckareto.....

This past Friday started much like any other day, but ended in a trip to the emergency room; filled with tension (both metaphorical and very real tension) awash in a manufactured sea of neon lights two roads of my life converged and exploded through one another. My lovely wife gave birth to our son 8 months ago, because of that event the hours seemed filled with a slow motion roll call of everything I have done to this point. As I lay on the thin bed, head swirling in pain, awaiting my fate; I recalled how everything in my life prior to my family meant fuck all. I would not have even sought treatment back in those lonely days of solitude. I would have rode through the pain (that is what they taught us old school types when confronted with pain) There was a very low point during this time, when confronted with a near dance with death; I would have opted for death-wishing to just be done with the whole messy affair. How things change given the circumstance and opportunity to peer through the other side of the veil. I spent the year my wife was pregnant through today collectimg all the music I love and depositing mp3 mixes into cans to save for the boy. I had intended to choose roughly 200 hundred or so of those and share them in mixes with family, friends’ et al. I have decided to share those here as well—welcome to part one, which will start at what could have been the very end, but the fates have smiled and we live anon…. I have a lot more to write about on this subject-but felt I should update a bit of it now...if you want the music that goes with this....visit my audio blog: http://dickswayne.blogspot.com/

I am starting to think that the reason humans are in a continuous flux of longing and wanderlust... has everything to do with the fact, that there is still so much to see.

Is that what I think it is??????