disutility function

so this is my first official blog entry.

im sitting here listening to The Land of Rape and Honey thinking ive also been listening to possibly way too much Tool lately. and im not entirely sure why that feels a bit like it might be a bad thing.

well, anyway, ive created this blog thing, against all of my best judgements; and, as is customary for me, i suspect i am again doing this in a vacuum. i could have set this thing up at the hipster-favortite MySpace, or the long-lost indie-kid favorite, LiveJournal, but ive got too much pride, or foolish morality for that.

i suspect its the latter.

so here i am, as i mentioned, listening to some sweet-ass old-school industrial shit crap music, through borrowed iPod headphones and a ridiculously expensive (and not at all borrowed) laptop trying to feel as if what i am typing has any kind of relavancy. yikes, i dont want to go back and read that last part.

but ok, an attempt at a mission statement thing, bc for god’s sake this blog is nothing if not riddled with a sickly amount of hidden purpose….

i plan to have this function as a way to rant out into the void that is this current web based population, and i plan to post a whole bunch of my more, so called, creative writing types of blatherings (thats the “too often, poor grammar” category to yr right) and in due time i will also set up a sweet MaybeRain Audio Blog dealie as a way to force more quick and rough-cut recordings out of my forever flooded basement. oh, and if i can ever get off my couch and do a little more visual work, id like to add some of that here as well…

really, i guess, this whole thing is an attempt at making myself more productive, which isnt exactly possible considering how much time i spend working on things like what you will find posted here .. but the point is to maybe make what i do more public in some sort of way that i dont exactly know yet.

fuck off, thats a decent mission statement.

so without any further ado, here’s tonight’s appropriate stolen quote:

cold silence has a tendency to atrophy any sense of compassion between supposed lovers