The most affecting game I’ve played. It gets under your skin in the best ways. You will appreciate the alien majesty of the quiet pastoral wasteland’s otherworldly golems, the colossi. You have a sword, a horse, and you must bring down these awesome creatures with the limited tools you have available. The initial thrill of triumph is quickly joined by a rather elegiac mourning of watching the world lose its magic and wonder. And that’s just the beginning.

2. Mass Effect Series (parts 1 and 2)

Bioware keeps bringing the noise and defining next gen storytelling. Your choices dictate a huge amount of the content that unfolds. It would be hard to see two games ending up identical. The stakes are raised, the characters now the focus of much of the driving action and conflict, and there will be triumph amid all the death.

3. Portal/The Orange Box

Portal signaled the start of the Indie Game movement. Bold and bracing new ideas seized upon by the fine folk at Valve who turned it from clever gimmick to sublime dark sci-fi exploration of self-survival amid a waif learning to play by new and unfamiliar rules, in which an artificial matron both instructs, taunts, and plots with her own agenda. The rest of the Valve masterpiece in a box is just as impressive. Episode 2 is just brilliant from its explosive beginning to its war of the worlds in a mountain villa/rocket silo finale. Alyx Vance is going to break hearts by the time Episode 3 sees day, hopefully Portal 2 teases nicely.

4. Braid (spoilers)

Sublime and haunting. Eerie and nostalgic. A gut punch of just brilliant ideas executed with the utmost confidence of Mr. Blow. It’s like playing Super Mario Bros. for the first time, only instead of journeying to new worlds of the imagination, the player embarks into new dimensions of understanding. A deeply personal and challenging work. The meta aspects are a game in themselves. An unexpected gem no game nerd should be without.
5. Halo:Reach

A beautiful swan song for the dynasty that made the xbox. The multiplayer code wizards at Bungie are in a league of their own. The single-player is fast, furious and suitably cataclysmic. The inspired use of old school multi-player maps as single-player vista and battleground are subtle and confident. Everything about this game is confident.

6. Call of Duty Series

The big budget franchise that won’t let up. Makes more money than most everything else in the entertainment world. Controls like a dream that just gets better with each passing iteration. The co-op mode of Modern Warfare 2 stand as my fave experience of the series thus far. Tackling hairy white knuckle action with a buddy feels right.

7. Rock Band Series (parts 1-3) with special guest appearance by Dance Central.

Harmonix is getting shed by parent Viacom. Rock Band 3 bombed. They are still supporting their monster catalog of music to play along with. 3 is pretty much the pinnacle of the genre. Dance Central suggests where this all may be going, after the current dust settles.

8. Assassin’s Creed Series

The engine is starting to crack up under all the pressure, but the breadth of gameplay continues to evolve and expand. Part one was a solitary hunting affair with well choreographed assassination set-pieces, sterile urban exploration with very vertical aspirations, fueled by stories within stories and conspiracies reaching across time and space. Part 2 improved upon the rather basic but dry formular of the first game, injecting it with Renaissance flair. The writing got passionate, the characters (real and historical) engaged, and the amount of gameplay experience expanded dramatically. Renaissance Italy makes for the second best open world environment I’ve seen, after Red Dead’s stunner of an Old West. 2’s cliffhanger set-up what seems to be an on-going level of Matroska doll narrative reveal. Brotherhood continued building the depth of experience in the series, introducing new strategy and team based gameplay. The scope of the battles and the deft touches of the series protagonist are starting to ripple across a much broader pond.

9. Uncharted Series

The most cinematic and well directed piece of interactive entertainment yet. Heavy Rain does some very unique and groundbreaking things. Sony’s internal first party teams are doing a great job of sharing software innovations and taking full advantage of the hardware. I am curious to see where first party games go with the Move, which hasn’t exactly moved off shelves, but still remains a viable piece of tech.

10. Bayonetta

As far as action games, this game stands well above the rest. The fever dream of your Sega games arcade youth with the most beautiful fighting to make you bleed from your eyeballs. I found the broad Japanese tongue-in-cheek tone to be a trip, most find it grating. But you can’t deny the depth of the action in which you partake. It’s goofy anime that crackles with precise and fluid control and harkens back to the super-imaginative and over the top action games of 8 and 16 bit youth.

portables/casuals/budget *Braid excluded
1. Peggle Series
2. Pacman CE Series
3. The World Ends With You
4.Dragon Quest IX.
5. Locke’s Quest
6.. Professor Layton Series

Honorable mentions: Rockstar killed with GTA4, episodes, and Red Dead Redemption. I think they’re still trying to realize their ambitions, which get a bit lofty, and don’t always deliver. While I love the kitchen sink approach, when it comes to narrative, they tend to lose focus, jump the shark at strange junctures, and allow for indulgences that impress while also alienating. Their use of culture, fantastic writing and direction will serve as studies for the serious student. L.A. Noire looks to have its sexy way with the adventure genre, and Agent should also be stellar. What genres will they explore next? Or is it back to crime and not so much punishment? Their best of the decade is probably one of their more modest, Bully. I would love to see a next gen Bully with the proper amount of Rockstar polish.

Burnout Paradise. Most fun racing so far this generation. The mutliplayer sandbox is fast, dynamic and always evolving. Toy cars were never quite this much fun.

Siren. PSN. Fantastic horror gem for those wanting the next Silent Hill. Demon’s Souls is a very lovecraftian dungeon romp in that the odds are never in your favour, and survival will take planning and cunning.

Mirror’s Edge. One of those games I most want to see a sequel to, as I think DICE could really craft something truly amazing next go around.

Resident Evil 4.

Eternal Darkness.

Biggest surprise: Duke Nukem Forever. Oh, wait, that’s next year.

The obligatory Blizzard lovefest. Oh, yeah. World of Warcraft and Starcraft 2 are both quality games, I think those scrappy underdogs at Blizzard just might have a shot at success soon enough. I may try cataclysm next year, but I’m in no hurry.

Enter the lowly prostrate mercenary cell humbled before you spiraling forever inward, a chorus of trigger-happy surveillance maintenance personnel caught in [this] moment neverending. Sometimes trashmen, often mail carriers, our constant presence haunting your domicile situation. Cookiemonsters report back your credit at lightfast so we know whether it’s time for you to move on, or up. And we’ll help see you along your way. We are shadow, voices captured on static hiss, a knocking at your door at 0300 hours. The more of us your neighborhood retains on staff, the better we’ll shephard you and yours from all threats real/imagined. We don’t discriminate soft targets from hard, just point us in a general direction and we’ll sniff out whatever excites if we’re not too lazybizzee, or endmonth stuck having to make our quota-quotas. Mostly we’re just dEiDreaming of scoring that gimme-exclusive reality comedy/crimefeed. Some of us gave up good careers DMZ hotspotting in the airborne militia before our lives of youthful league-sanctioned thuggery. WarDawgz, Inc. never the proudest of outfits, we freely admit, but that’s our motivational inspiration b&b to get us through our rotation. They keep us moving, never letting us settle in one spot too long. Abuses in the past and whatnot. But everyone knows We’re in it to win it. Rights reserved with another outfit, but it fits the situation, so we infringe with our subordinate whine.

As a collective we have no problem ratting out WarDawgz, Inc. secret senior staff and adminocrats, some of the biggest douchenozzlers around. Since we’ve got only a jillion more infinite hours to get through. Not naming names of any certain junior ceos that may fill up space standing tallproud without a thought going through their emptyhead, perhaps they’re the reasonwhy a grizzled overhill retired killer for hire was caught doing VBTs to young perps on the side without upperbrass catching tracewhiff of our illicit DawgFart activities, up to and or including applying that rake to the back of that sumbitch who slandered against us just once too much, sideline garage sale profiteering and forced yard sale coercion convictions never took, pool taxes and levies against undage daughters the stuff of rumors, but never murder of the intentional kind, never that no.

She moved from a burb far outside the loop, existed for six wasted months without him ever knowing she perceived. But none of that mattered because he was small and weak and there was nothing he could do to win the heart of this magical creature, his glass cement cold hard steel manufactured nymph, slayer of jockstrap Narcissi and smugly trixsters.

They’d brushed aside in hallways completely oblivious to the other, our young he and she. Perhaps specks of after-image burned through half turns, mirrored reflections glanced off locker door and polished floor. Perhaps it just be that she,  such the magical new girl from land far away far,  special amazing adored all too well, and him being nothing but loser raised to the nth forever and never, lost in the so much nearer than, intricately imagined inward of self-loathing so as to be never remotely considered. Pityshame if only it were that easy. Invisible then real. Dream girl and then just hollow vacant dream. Unrealized. He never saw her because something like her was too good for something like him. And his complete non-interest only a curious product of his complete self’s dismissal.

Her story not all that complex but the web of intrigue of those surrounding and sheltering this beautiful Aria, that’s where things get pulsing. Little Aria all grown up travelling the wide world, youthful mature parents ever more in love wizened old souls drifter vagabond charlatans. Magicians? They worked their magic. Tech savvy gypsies, one if not both working some odd job for some odder skeezetypes: econobroker, importexports, words used in higher frequencies, vidblog personality type smashing up against culturevulture washout extraordinaries. Her dad always shut up topstory working on something hands up in air as if to ward her away, let me finish please baby, daddy will be right out. These days, Moms always up in her face, trying to get her to do something, anything. Making her feel broken and half-fixed. Perfect rotten youth.

She’d been playing this game, classic school, so totally older than old. Not bad for what it was, simple feedprobe turns out the whole experience just a thematic teaser product for some other megahuge tainment long since faded all geologic obscurity into the dustbin, something she’d have to refcheck later. She had budness of male bonding this afternoon in this temporal killpuzzle with Koi and Hugh, classmates a year older and younger respectively. Koi was half-jap, his real name John but when his family moved third grade he changed his name all on his own. Kids at his old school made fun of his round face and puckered lips, called him fishface. When he showed up in the new school, he told everyone his name was Koi. Like the big fish, he said and they all laughed and he smiled. He was pretty cool since then. They shared stories of the social dramas outside their immediate circle and kept each other involved in various scenes that bled from one strata to the next. She was tomboy burning for something outside her sphere of influence. Hugh was from dirt how he told it and loving every minute of it. Parents living off grid in a trailer and making furniture out of real things not some prefab or printjob. Hugh trained his muscles for stage work and was studying a new postproduction suite called thebard.  Not a bad crew of dEiDreamers. Aria the wordnerd leader of the group, Hugh the quipbrawn and Koi playing calcumancer.

All this merely wicked pretense, see, the first time He and She ever met was (without ever tragic realization) in game. The Land of Milk & Honey was her usual after school dEiDreaming, she got tired of the fairyprincess-superchick routine age six. EduChic age eight. The whoredramas worked out by age ten.  Here she was age fifteen classical magical realism with strong Hellenic influence. It was a way to waste the day, epic heroism with a tardpunk vibe heavy on contemporary crumblescene.

His first immediate impression of her screenselfother. Smart rendered in just the way she held herself. Everyone ingame was tentimes more confident. Why he liked her besides her goshbod. Virtual, something striking about her. She put lotta thought to it. Guys like him just went for crude templates because easy was casualcool and they could grow into it. Her name gamename was Aria, just like her realname. See, they had something in common. They both broke the rules of play. This is all their fault. Just kidding, we know we fucked up, just joshing up here.

He wakes up from dream, sick to his stomach, hot bile from basement furnace. Hugging the porcelain god cold gripped jaw resting in wet. Nothing made sense to him. This can’t be happening. He lingers over the holographic presence of her that remains in his mind. He can still feel her ink blue hair fall about his fingertips, still smell her eyes upon his hideous half-form. In his lucid dream lurching sickness awareness he was smart enough to fire off a glamourcap of the moment. Yes, he’d gotten her. He sees her caught in his mind. They’d believe him now. So proud of his softhacks and workaround, his old E/D unit can’t compete with the latest plants, but the codegawds and phrmphreaks had been working overtime figuring out how to really go shitnuts on the wingnuts. Publicity and prison state phobias keeping the projects under the radar. Fucking with perceptual reality was two bars and stripes even for underage perps like this here dreamjockey waste of space.

Apps in his mind greeted him by name when there was time to waste, this was such a morning.

You’ve been up for ten minutes and haven’t said hello.

The system standby. Aldous, how are you doing today?

Pretty swell Aldous, and yourself?
The television personality headshrinkers and top feeds all said not to name your E/D agent certain logisticals: Mother, father, sibling, friend, romance, spouse, self. For very obvious and self-identity maintaining reasons. Aldous made it a point to break a rule or two on occasion, and mirroring this dangerous/particular self caught his eye.

Fantastic. Many articles of interest came in that you might enjoy looking at.
Whatover?
Firstly, Land of Milk & Honey Handsome Triumvirate Tactics, as well as new Spirit Animal Combinations pertaining to Weasel/Octopus/Mockingbird. Past that, new dreamscenes from users GapMind, SimulGolem, PrettyTNG all ranked three or higher.
Move to the top of the queue, maybe immerse on the ride to school.

In the span of their conversation, Aldous had named and uploaded the glamourcap to his cloudbank, tagged it to share with his few and best friends on this earth and submitted it to the uncanny valley arbiters forum, an ocular nerd gathering place where human recognition sleuths and junkies debated whether or not an image of a person was real. Some of the threads lasted for months with remarkable hypertext documentation and mathematical proof. Aldous wanted to know what people would make of his dreamgirl, and though he did not know this, monumentally significant historic first documented sighting of an altogether mythological creature.

Bossman aka DrWily aka Mothership put me in charge of detailing an aftermath report in lieu of the non-survival of a civilian in the line of duty. May have lied a bit, unverfied the facts on account of self and four other’s shady involvement and the making of very bad decisions that wil affect the rest of our lives. Very sad story self as others have concluded and we are deeply shamed by our own involvement. Had we known the extent of the boy’s impairment and delusional attachment to high paying client’s teenage daughter, things may have gone down different. As self and four others honestly attest civilian was undergoing moderate trepanation procedures when last gen E/D unit went batshit loco and flash-fried the kid’s cranium. Data recovery in progress, but things aren’t looking too good for ourselves or our prior misguided bullshit made-up narrative. Seriously, we’re looking at serving a sentence of forty-eight infinite hours. We’ll have been lost in our minds for, well, basically forever, just the about of time it will take to reconstruct the young man’s consciousness and have the investigative tribunal come to a consensus. Heavy Shit, we all decided after the fact, but before data reassembly, let the record show this is how shit went down. Honestly for real, with our commentary of his last dying thoughts. Director commentary if you will.

Self and four others under the direct guidance and lateral leadership auspice of Mothership took a standard black surveillance unit out to the Quickee to recharge the vehicle’s batteries and re-up provisions for the upcoming Treble S. *standard suburban stake-out .

Self and others watched screens and smoked a bowl and talking about Lake Maracaibo and the Chinese Art Installation that got blown to hell in Portland, competing reality meme wars, apparently.

Alarm sounded on our unique snowflake aka frequency and we responded. Mothership had got the jump on a perp designed “DfileR”. Young white male, possibly albino, between ages twenty-four and fourteen. Slight and sickly, perhaps due to albinism. Google for accuracy, system tagged this report Albino Defamation League for some reason, maybe due to prior remarks and slurs against this young individual on record. Again, apologies.

Tossed the perp in the back of the van and got clearance to release back into the wilds of ThreeTreeHill between FoodCourtPavillion and RetirementLane. Mothership overrode command and directed Self and others to deliver unto 1818 Promontory Pt. Left, the large schizoprhenic building at the center of the block split down the middle, the duplexsion dubbed the Haunted House Bed and Breakfast. Owner of Left, hereafter referred to as “Southpaw,” guided the van into his garage, whereupon “DfileR” was extracted and seated. Subject remained docile due to E/D collar in effect setting at seven of a possible ten. Induced aphasia and numbness of extremities, slowed down about thirty percent. *Note: Self and others have experimented recreationally with this setting, and based our decision in part due to our own non-compliance of factory warranty specifications and let the record show that the kid’s E/D unit not to blame, nor do we wish to deny responsibility for our actions.  “DfileR” now known to be one Aldus Mayhew, deceased seventeen years old. He was crying but he would not speak. None of them would. None of them will. They’ve all gone and shut themselves off from the rest of the world. Maybe we’re to blame. Only these recoveries will reflect. Who knows, after forty-eight hours in infinite, Self and four others could go catatonic, lunatic, prophet, or just sleep forever after. We’re scared, which is perhaps the point of all this. But we won’t know a goddamn thing when we get out, that’s for sure.

Data stream to follow as per recovery. Self and four others once again throw ourselves on the grace and mercy of the tribunal. In the words of the illustrious and high-larious Han Wo Pan, “We So Sorry.”

Joining our security team are two runners-up from “The Bodyguard” – The Fox REAMMO based off the blockbuster Jenny Flame remake. The first is security head and retired Secret Service agent, Johnson McCray, and his second in command is Alphonse Merryweather, an ex-BlackKknight mercenary with an impressive triple digit confirmed kills! Glorious Meadows security will often go deep undercover, so please use discretion around garbage maintenance personnel, crossing guards, and be sure to report any and all suspicious activity or solicitation to our crack squad of crimestoppers! (not to be affiliated with Crimestoppers, Inc.)

Glorious Meadows has attendance-compulsory community meetings thrice monthly with an extra special bonus meeting for all Higher Authority Authorized Home Owners. If you wish to become a Higher Authority Home Owner, diligent attendance and community enrichment outreach is required. If your lawn is selected Lawn of the Month on no less than (3) occasions within a (24) month time-span, you will earn temporary membership into the HAHO. For those curious in our lawn guidelines, please see pertaining faqpage.

Visitor(s) must check in upon entry. If this is visitor(s) fist entry, they must complete a screening application at least (24) hours ahead of visit. Upon completion, they will be issued a Glorious Meadows passport, to be stamped at shopping courts, but not limited from pool, theater, and recreational areas. If they fill up passport with stamps, they must re-apply for re-entry. Glorious Meadows is an exclusive community, and wishes to foster community growth. So remember to encourage outsiders to be come insiders!

New this year to Glorious Meadows is the Tom Landry Stadium/Evangelical Worship Center.  Enjoy sporting events, concerts, and live speaking engagements, only blocks away from the Glorious Meadows neighborhood. Join us Sundays in partaking of the Christ Experience(tm)! This interactive ride and stage show is only one of many denominational-themed activities residents are encouraged to attend with their loved ones, because while life in Glorious Meadows may be glorious, it is not heavenly and your eternal soul knows the difference!

And always remember the three cardinal community rules that new residents often forget: Clean up after your pets, report any suspicious behavior to security personnel, and don’t miss your first HAHO meeting. We’ll know if you’re absent, and there will be repercussions!

(Just kidding, you’re allowed to miss one meeting, but any after that must be excused (24) hours in advance.)

We hope your first night in Glorious Meadow to be a comfortable one! Be sure to lock your doors, and windows and keep your animals restrained or inside the home at night, per the request of our security personnel. From all of us, welcome to the neighborhood! We hope you never leave!

1. How would you compare your animal in relation to a fully grown human being? What percent of a human being is your animal worth to you, firstly in regards to your own self-value, second, in measure to a family member, third a close friend, fourth, a regular friend, all the way down to ten. a diseased homeless person. Consider whether you love your animal companion more than most of humanity, or just non-relations? If a migrant laborer would come up to your home, begging in their best English to work for pennies on the dollar doing menial labor, would you be able to afford to cut into the amount you spend on your animal at the Sauna or Retreat Farm? If your grown daughter were to fall on hard times, would you relax spending at the Doggie Hot Mud Dip by what dollar amount, be as specific as possible.

2. Have you been following trends in pet care, subscribing beyond our complimentary newsletter to other periodicals, pet blogs, and/or attending animal companion tradeshows and competitions? We know it is a cut-throat world out there, and do not wish to overburden you with stressful pet-ownership hierarchical rankings schema or comparison charts. Do you consider yourself more of a pet-introvert, or an alpha owner? We try to keep our print demographic hovering between thorough-and-demanding and playful-but-neophyte. (If you feel yourself not contributing to your pet’s quality of living, we strongly encourage you to subscribe to the online only edition.)

3. Carefully observe your animal’s relations with other animals. Is it comfortable in pet society, or is it ostracized? This may be your fault. We offer up many pet owner seminars and courses, animals optional but encouraged to attend. If your animal is not at the top of pet society, that directly affects their quality of living, and therefore their life. Do not let your pet die a premature death because of your inaction on behalf of their social well-being.

4. Animal health is our top concern and should be yours as well. Does your pet look healthy? Is the coat as lustrous as its peers, does it excrete consistently and without pain? Is it eating enough? If you are not spending three dollars a day per animal on food, you may not be feeding your animal properly, and if the animal is aware of inferior foodstuff, it may hunger protest. Our chefs have travelled the world, feeding the animals of the rich and famous, and have returned to us with all their secrets. Come visit out pantry to stock up on all the best pet provisions.  Our fully licensed and on-staff veterinarians are always just a phone call away. If your animal is experiencing even the slightest twinge of unease or discomfort, contact us immediately. We have state of the art medical technology and pharmaceuticals to alleviate many an ailment.

5. Is your pet satisfied? The answer to this is almost always no. Ask yourself what you are doing wrong. Is it your inattention, lack of understanding, or abusive nature? We are here to fix you, as much as your animal. Feel free to arrange a conference or clinical with one of our on staff psychologists or counselors.

And remember, pet health and happiness is your problem, not theirs. Do right by them.

My simple observations about these political cycles presented as playful mean mental diaspora with bias:

Political parties are teams you choose because politics is not a sport designed for individuals. You can try on your own, but you’ll probably fail all by your lonesome. This is because everyone likes the idea of teams. The layperson, the media, the moguls, and the corporations who rig the game. It’s a sport slugger, get used to it. You can be a star player, just don’t get off script. To borrow from a Patron St., “Look what happened to JFK.”

And the thing about politics, even on the national level, is just how much of a farce it really is. There is a reason why comedy and politics are so closely entwined. It’s just a welcome relief that humanity can laugh about it so openly now. Back in the day, the court jesters could get into some serious shit. Now, we’ve got The Daily Show and Colbert Report being celebrated by the media on both the left and the right. It may be grudgingly in some cases, but it is also genuine. And let us not kid around, politics and by extension, the news media, are entertainments created for the masses. People want their stories good and tidy, but also a little exciting. Mostly, they just want to see what people are doing,  and trying to copy the best and brightest of them to their ability. Those that can’t think for themselves want people to tell them what to do, and what to think. Sheeple, who have been raised good and dumb thanks to a healthy diet of television, sugar fatty salty foodstuffs, and poor public education. Enter our benevolent protectors, Fox News Entertainment. They don’t put the Entertainment on the air, but that is how it looks behind the scenes and on paper. They won a court case having to do with shit they made up on air, after getting called out on it by a production company. They are news entertainment. Scary, huh? Frankly, it’s always been that way. Newspapers were their own separate thing, their own little worlds, mediums for their owners and editors  to insert their own viewpoint into, to influence events with whatever was available. Modern trends like, integrity in reporting, these are newish principles that most people seem to have trouble buying into.

Fox News Ent. is only a tiny little piece of a much larger entity overseen by a titan of industry, a Mr. Rupert Murdoch. He’s sort of like Randolph Hearst on crack, aka the basis for Orson Welles’s rather daring portrait of the man in the guise of Citizen Kane. FNE is only an extension of a media arm of varying strengths and weaknesses. Their television devision is doing very well for itself, American Idol, pretty popular still, and Glee is also up there, FNE’s The Glenn Beck Pariah Hour has its own bestselling novel now, and film, did you see that Avatar flick?  They are corporation that is competing across a variety of mediums and kicking some ass. Good for them, they know their audience.

It just becomes comical when such a small amount of the general population gets so worked up over the smallest shit, when quite frankly, there’s some shit goin’ down. They’re just too fucking scared to say a fucking thing.

The election coverage won’t cover any of this, because these politicians know their opinion doesn’t make a lick a difference on the national, let alone international scene. They’re just there to trumpet up racist, inflammatory shit to get the rednecks and good ol’ boys butthurt over wounds against their masculinity after letting some uppity negro and his commie ilk into the white house. It really is that simple, and they can just keep hitting those buttons, just like a good DJ can keep hitting that beat. They’re good at it, and they’re making money doing it, and it gets them all them fine bitches, though I expect Rachel Maddow could snag a few of them away.

So yeah, that’s where we’re at people. People are just that fucking weak and awful in this country, and it’s a damn shame. And it’s gone on for so long, and it will keep going on because we’re just that lazy. That, or we like the silly spectacle of the thing. I can’t decide which. Me, I feel like I got better shit to waste my time on. Because I feel I should care about how awful this election is, and how shitty the personalities are that comprise the endeavor, and man, I just want to read some fucking Calvin and Hobbes instead of suffer these fools gently.

The part about government that really tugs at me, is that when it works, it works well. It has a reason to be there. I grew up spoiled on such things and would like that seed to continue. I think that’s the heart of the progressive movement right there. Just a willingness to go forward, instead of sit there idly shouting and getting left behind. If it doesn’t work, fine, we change it. We get shit done. I look at all the voices who only want to place blame on a party or a person who really had little say in the shit that went down, and want to revert back to the criminals who caused the whole mess. That’s retarded with a capital R, which should be their letter of branded injustice. Because our attention spans are not that short, we have been paying attention, and I hear this Internet thing might actually be good for something.

See, there are quite a few politicians I respect. Namely, the fools who achieved greatness before serving their country. Your soldiers, your crazy mad freethinkers, writers, actors (wink-nudge), funny people, crusaders, reporters, teachers, motha-fuckin-astronauts, I happily begrudge doctors and lawyers, but most of them are good people. The human body, man, I don’t even want to look at myself half the time. And see, I find the battleground of law itself a very tricky and fascinating beast, a tangled web of social code morass and labyrinthine histories of who wronged who and for what reason. Modern politics being sort of the id-supreme flipside, men shouting in moral outrage over their constituents private lives they wish to govern. And the hilarity of such behaviour is that the ones typically opposed against such things: mostly blowjobs, masturbation, and all out whorin’ are to blame, and it’s always the moral police who are the ones getting caught at it. I mean, c’mon, you must all see this as the joke it is, right? This is some funny shit. And don’t even get me started on pedophile priests.

So what’s the game they’re all playing? The game everyone is so caught up in.

Who is right.

That’s it.

Sure, there are other variations, like in all games. Who has the most shit, who has the coolest wife, or second, or tenth? But it’s a boy’s game, mostly. Or has been. They seem more cool with sharing, but c’mon, look, old white dudes are still acting like dorks. But they’ll get over it and realize that handing over the keys to their adolescent bisexual goth DJ daughter ain’t so bad. They’re catching on, but they’re still fucking ornery old shits.

And the funny thing about humanity, we’ve never needed an adherence to truth to be ‘right’, we’ve just needed large numbers and shouty voices, and when that doesn’t work, big sticks, the sharper the better. Only now it’s all named Trojan. You got your condoms, your spartan warriors, your missiles to blow the whole damn thing up because even in foresight, that was a bad fucking move hombre. Maybe you should just chill and let the ladies and queers and colored folk take over for a bit.

See, truth is a very shallow and subjective measure of standards when willful ignorance exists, and shamefully, it always will be in fashion. Because that is how fashion works. We pass it off to the next person, only it’s a little more tattered and worn and misunderstood. We’re no less guilty of it, from a generational and individual point of view, being ‘right’ about something doesn’t mean anything when the people who need to be convinced won’t listen to you, or even entertain your argument. They’d rather stick their fingers in their ears and shout names than listen to a word out of your lying deceptive mouth. What I love is the smug smile of tuned out bliss, you can just see the volume slider of thought process going from “I don’t give a shit and there’s no amount of sincerity and/or honesty from you that would convince me otherwise” to “so let me just bask in flatland please, where this elevator music is more my liking.”

And that’s when I don’t look back from even bothering with a rational discussion. Some people just aren’t meant for it. I tend to value my words, and when they get wasted on useless individuals, what I most regret is the shame I feel for even trying.

And when I do honestly want to know their thoughts on the matter, because I do value their perspective or opinion, because I respect them as a human being, and what I get back in return is a blanket statement about as general as can be, from which nothing more can be extracted, and trying to do even that causes them to turn red or blue, or both, depending on their level of activity.

There is so much I don’t know about, I can only claim to be right about a couple of things in this universe.

One, I am me, and oftentimes, even I have to give that one some deep thought. Two, the vast majority of the people I surround myself are decent folk who try a lot harder than most, at least in my observational capacity. Hey, I respect people who try. The people I love but who aren’t in my life, I hope are doing just fine on their own. Three, people don’t like to be told what to do, unless they’re specifically asking you to tell them what to do. I hate giving advice because the best judge of your situation is most probably yourself. Just think it over and don’t be in such a hurry for an immediate answer. You can probably sit on it, unless there’s a gun to your head, and in that case, you should probably answer in such a fashion to minimize the damage for all involved. Four, people love to tell you how right they are, and how wrong you are. Even if you have way more experience in a given area then they do. This is where it gets fun, and I personally love to listen to people’s inane attempts at knowledgeable bravado as much as I love to attempt to conceal my own desire to say anything. Five, people love easy answers. Soundbites please. The average person, myself included, has the attention span of a gnat. Part of this is a self-control mechanism you can observe in animals, a shielding of the eyes and looking up and away, a gathering of thought and a plan of action. Fight or flight, yo.  If you start to use logic in illustrating a point, you are getting further from the truth in their eyes, words becoming a deception of sorts which they can’t follow. In cases such as this, take your time and really try to present a decent conversational thesis, but make it about as succinct and level-headed as you can. Make it interesting, make it a story.

Ah, which brings me full circle and to my punchline. So, you hear the one about this year’s election?

These people have lots of stories. Pick the one that’s best for you and your loved ones, just don’t be a fucking asshole, plz.

thoughts made up of possible may i’s.

liberties taken from the pages of far greater minds

adrift  the tips of tongues of passersby

colluding in some strange porridge of stimmerstammer

glimmerglamour arrogant breast-thrush thrust

flesh-flush in the face of those forsaken eyes electric

static mostly caught in her web of locked amazement

patent recognition of a life leading up to this.

so far removed from his weightless reality

his however brief  life unlived by one casual simple refusal

smile undid metal zipped up from top to bottom

heartache sealed shut buried in a dead land

teeth pressed firm together strengthened by boys like him.

this moloch-maria this most fine automaton

matron of their simmer-summer dreams

liquid smoov curves abrasive to heart-want-desire

playing wiv hearts dangling on finger-stringers.

-nette, he calls her by name, maria-

her spider-limbs pull him close and seal him shut

speechless she rocks him cradles him close

the poison on her lips spins him round the block

already drunk off the death oncoming

“you killed me,” he says pulled close eyes betraying everything.

“i hope not she says,” not really saying anything at all.

put up some flyers, need to go do a promotional chalk table drawing. thinking of what i want to include in that. quite tired these last few days, creative energy is shy and dormant.

working with friends of various projects, trying to keep my head where it needs to be and not drifting aimless, though inspiration and collaboration are key.

need to get to writing iris because that’s the next big thing.

going for broke because broke i am and broke i be until someone fixes me.

the human condition is what ails.

i find myself restored to factory specification years after impact, pieces of me falling back together just so.

(love murdered me once already not so eager to die again please)

fictional creations roam free let loose to plot and scheme.

best friends find purchase in hard earned flesh and comfortable familiarity.

a warm summer rain to keep me inside sweating tears sweet for the tasting.

painting over paintings.