disobedience and the moment

wriggling in & out of situations standards & unhappy trappings fixating on the horizon the exit signs on & im not listening

-> the scribbling

more on the DUCF

handmade detroit
over at .waitinglinetheory. we are sponsoring the Detroit Urban Craft Fair and lending a hand wherever we can …
here’s the recent press release from .wlt.

… …

for those of you that may still be completely out of the loop, not that we condone the existence of said ‘loop’, it is officialy time to admit that the Detroit Urban Craft Fair (myspace nerds click here) is about to descend on this city whether you are ready for it or not.

hosted by Handmade Detroit (myspace nerds), the DUCF, as stated on their website, is defined thusly:

The Detroit Urban Craft Fair is a one-day alternative craft fair hosted by Handmade Detroit. Over 50 vendors from Detroit and the Midwest will set up shop from 11 a.m. to 8 p.m. on Saturday, August 5, 2006 at the Majestic Theater in Detroit. The event is free and open to the public.

well, WLT has taken a sponsorship/promotion/all-around-moral-support position to help out however we can with the DUCF, because, well, we think this shit is the shit.

to begin, we have added a little link over there to the left to help support the DUCF, the link will allow you to purchase one of their totally totally sweet mitten pins, because as they say:

Why not show your support of Detroit’s DIY community by purchasing a Handmade Detroit mitten pin? All proceeds from our pin sales go directly to helping produce and promote the Detroit Urban Craft Fair. Each handmade pin is approximately 3 inches tall with a secure pin clasp and a tiny heart over Detroit. They would look super snazzy on your jacket, knitting tote or dashboard.

you may notice that the link takes you to a paypal page that sends the money to us, but please be assured ALL of it goes directly to the DUCF, its just easier for us kids to set it up that way, ok?

and yes, here’s what we think is the most important part:

I’d like to be involved, is there anything I can do to help?

Double Yes! We always need more people to pass out flyers, hang posters, post MySpace bulletins and do some good ole’ word of mouth advertising. If you’d like to help get the word out about DUCF, shoot an e-mail with the subject line PROMOTION HELP to promo@detroiturbancraftfair.com.

We’re also looking for volunteers to work the day of the fair as event staff. Event staffers will be used as runners and loaders for our vendors and with decoration and general set up. Because these people are such a big help on the day of the fair, they will receive special thank yous much like our vendors. If you’re interested, please send an e-mail with the subject line EVENT STAFF to info@detroiturbancraftfair.com.

seriously, we havent been so excited abt something in this city in a very long time.

so click the link, get yrself a few pins, and then head over to the DUCF site and send them a message that you want to help volunteer. there will be plenty of promotion and day-of types of chances to help out, so please please please lend a hand, you’ll want to tell your grandkids what you were doing the day detroit exploded onto the world with all the crafty creative force of a nation wide block party

the bear.

boxer shorts & empty pillows
w/legs all akimbo
nose breathing
&greenwide eyed& (quite certain) unfocused

theres knotty hair in my past
& you look right past it all like the
nowmoment love is ALL that counts
in theze record kept tally books

pressing foreheads into outstretched
fingers i swear i see a smile
but thats just impossible, yes yes i know
but a boy has nothing if not this dreamaspoetspeak typeface

rollover and stare or gaze out windows
& w/ a squeak like threewords i know
where i belong forever finally &

yet and yet thats the exact moment

thethisfamous guilt falls heavy & hair+covered
comforter similar
still i lock the door behind me ( again ).

your patience is the heaven i dont deserve

counting all the moments & minutes
until our next fated
windowsill nine planet affair

(your short term memory is the only savior
ive ever believed in)

while yr long term is all that ever saved me

gloria, for the record

forever.inward.and.yet.as.always.outwardaloneandonly
this is a major poetical work set (back and) forth into motion

likethat(onceagain,yetpromisednever[again])

    hOUR[+]long drive north up out and around and thenagain

never free of anything
but a linedrawing sketchpastels
and half-phrasescribblings

thisisisis_is another mystery fraught with repetitionsAndmoremisunderstAndings
,

arent we the only unforgiving
                          unforgiving eternal enemies left in this /or any\ world . ?
                          unforgiving

technically here

another in what is apparently a series of machine rejects here at The Office.
this is the back side of a full 8.5×11 piece of paper that was left at the copy machine.

burying the buried

where the bonanza is beautifully balanced ive broken backs or promises & occasionally held a grudge its greivances & geriatrics my ancestors will forever forget my name i leave rhyming dictionaries in place of bibles like that hotel somewhere in mississippi like the broken phone in the visitors center like its raining in panama city like that girl at the McDonalds drivethru like every single time i can remember trying to use a pay phone like are we m-i-s-s-i-s-s-i-s-s-i-n-g from history like how many times can i say the same thing before everyone i mean anyone starts listening

ive left so many at the alter i think theyre beginning to form a club for courteous curators of ruined lost love & recklessness remember how you spoke to each other remember how it felt we’re fearful that the end is near & even more that it never will the destruction we cause is proportional to how many showers we take but you can wash it all away with a night of staying up too late after its all over the only thing too much is on my kitchen table but i dont have a kitchen table so why is it still here i can hear heaven outside my window i can hold hope with honest abandon

i remember bar mitzfahs & drinking from bottlecaps i remember yr name on my class notes & i know i dont have the attention span for rap songs bc i also remember a saturday afternoon to chicago i think i saw the sunrise this morning mumbling idle monotony between kisses goodbye but i also think theres more to memories than thanking them for always fading we’re often saying theres nothing for us but arrogance & eventual truths even when i wrote it all out on a post-it i couldnt keep from wondering who

-> the scribbling

and for the waitress you’ve kissed

when alone at a bar is the short-term name of the game & this table’s too big for the ink ive left in my pen are you familiar w/ this fortunate following & foreshadowing glances like a formidable fantasy i rip stories from romance novels & bury myself under the porch lying amongst pets & patterned plant life spelling out postcards after past lives & lost continents they speak a language here ive forgotten but we lean into each other like the moon and its craters …

bubbled up random

scientifically speaking;

B2 mialc ew ohw ylno t[`]nera ew

but,in fact

therearethingsleftfortheleftandthe(n)gone

a cop-out, abt two hundred miles ago

i wasnt raised in a church & now im concerned that my only moral role model was the god i never met & never reached out to me left to believe in his love w/ nothing more than a cryptic contradicting storybook promising such & such i never felt the reassurance same as i never give or gave what kind of role model is that & w/ the never giving fretfully forever taking what love is claimed as his falling back to all the loved ought to know it aint that enough? whod he learn that one from? how dare to pass that one on to all these children made to come find him on their own on his terms what kind of model of unconditional love is that supposed to be? not one i plan to promote anymore i plainly promise

10,000 Days

i didnt write this, i only wish i had.
ten points for anyone who knows what its from without having to google it
… i know yr out there

Listen to the tales and romanticize,
How we follow the path of the hero.
Boast about the day when the rivers overrun.
How we rise to the height of our halo.

Listen to the tales as we all rationalize
Our way into the arms of the savior,
Fading all the trials and the tribulations,
None of us have actually been there,
Not like you.

Ignorant fibbers in the congregation,
Gather around spewing sympathy,
Spare me.
None of them can even hold a candle up to you.
Blinded by choices, hypocrites won’t see.

But, enough about the collective Judas.
Who could deny you were the one who illuminated
You’ll have a piece of the divine.

This little light of mine, the gift you passed on to me;
I’ll let it shine, to guide you safely on your way,
Your way home …

Oh, what are they going to do when the lights go down
Without you to guide them all to Zion?
What are they going to do when the rivers overrun
Other than tremble incessantly?

High as a wave, but I’ll rise on up off the ground.
You were the light and the way they’ll only read about.
I only pray Heaven knows when to lift you out.
Ten thousand days in the fire is long enough, you’re going home.

You’re the only one who can hold your head up high,
Shake your fists at the gates saying:
“I have come home now!
Fetch me the spirit, the son, and the father
Tell them their pillar of faith has ascended.
It’s time now!
My time now!
Give me my wings!”

You are the light and the way that they will only read about.

Set as I am in my ways and my arrogance,
Burden of proof tossed upon the believers.
You were my witness, my eyes, my evidence,
Judith Marie, unconditional one.

Daylight dims leaving cold fluorescence.
Difficult to see you in this light.
Please forgive this bold suggestion:
Should you see your Maker’s face tonight,
Look Him in the eye, look Him in the eye, and tell Him:
“I never lived a lie, never took a life, but surely saved one.
Hallelujah, it’s time for you to bring me home.”

- Maynard James Keenan

and the beat goes on

Updated 5/3 - Colbert reports on Colbert on the Colbert Repor(t)

ok, so in light of the recent media blackout on any good coverage of Stephen Colbert’s performance at the White House Correspondents’ dinner the other night, i’m going to take the advice of that always reliable Kossack, georgia10, and re-post for the blog-o-world what those of us in the blog-o-world already know, in the hopes of passing on to at least one new person this gem of civil disobedience in our near-stalinist modern america

to the tune of

another in a long line of Grand Rapids photos … this one is in a leaking underground pump room.

i didnt actually intend for this to be an “artsy” photo, i actually meant to take a technical picture of the crack in the floor, but the lack of focus, off-kilter geometry of the shadows and my (apparently) trademark “something up too close, kinda off to the side of the frame” occurred anyway, so here it is for you to enjoy

 

disutility function