archaeology

i should stop doing this. the excavating of the past. i went on a dig recently, and failed to find the nine year old boy with the spear made out of a sharpened stick. he erased himself, as versions of my past tend to. i found myself wishing that he had left a written record, but like so many great civilizations, what written records that did survive said little about the populace and more about obscurities. the landscape has undergone such a complete metamorphosis it is as if some Stalinist set out to remove all trace of the interiors, the immediate surroundings, but the lay of things was intact, more or less. i found myself coveting the years ahead of them that the young people in the city had, and their present circumstances, carrying laundry up those great hills. i have been doing altogether too much of that lately, but i think this last dig had me cured of the habit. a person can only live one lifetime, and unlike Vonnegut's Trafamadorians, we cannot even slide back and fourth along this thread of spacetime and must somehow make sense of its incompleteness, its inability to breach the other possible timelines that could have been and see the whole picture of things. perhaps this picture, if not viewed with the proper eye protection, would disintegrate a mind into nothing but proteins. i suppose, with a little help from Dr. Pangloss, i am safe here, on this thread, a life among them.

Recent Art

you have seen three of four of these before, but i like them as still pieces more, perhaps, so here they are again.

Annihilator Neurasthenasism

Giant plankton-eating fishes roamed prehistoric seas, fossil evidence shows

Giant plankton-eating fishes roamed prehistoric seas, fossil evidence shows

Premonition of Monstrous Negation

Visigothic Ecdysis

Kreator Recontextulized

Despite appearances, Ruby has no soft-tissue damage or repetitive stress injuries from moshing around like this. We have done it every day since she was born, and we know each other's limits. As you can imagine, she has incredible core body strength. I film this, actually, on a day she would absolutely not go to sleep...."metaling her down" is a standard daddy trick, which can backfire, of course, if she is not absolutely dead tired. She is sleeping soundly now, two minutes after the clip is finished.

The song is Kreator's 'Flag of Hate'...we had been on an Iron Maiden kick earlier, but I needed something more brutal.

This sounds incredibly pretentious, misguided, or both, but Ruby seems to need the catharsis of heavy music-electroclash, punk, metal, industrial, to deal with the everyday stresses of living in a world where she can make elaborate plans to distract her mom and dad long enough to eat the cat food, but cannot pull a shirt over her head or flush a toilet. We both live for this, which is good, because it is pretty much how we spend our days.