The (Graffiti) Writer's Bench

BadMonkey4 Says...(Shamelessly stolen from his DeviantArt Page)

2008-09-16T21:00:00.000-06:00

I am a bipedal carbon based sentient being (depending on who you ask). A male of the species Homo Sapien, a mutated and evolved mammal of the primate family who's major pastimes seem to be killing their own planet, all other life on the planet including each other, and reproducing (or the act of, mostly confined to their own species, but occasionally other species are involved e.g. hamster, sheep, giraffe). At present I am residing in Northern Ireland (although not a native), the United Kingdom, European Continent, Northern Hemisphere, Earth, Third planet from the star in the Sol system, western spiral arm of the galaxy known as "The Milky Way" or AA0 (WARNING TO ANY VISITOR TO THIS GALAXY : Ballet, Opera, and Religion are still practiced in this galaxy and are not outlawed as they are everywhere else in the known civilised universe, in fact these are classified as culture because the inhabitants are just a bunch of dirty perverts who don't know any better), in the Universe 148 where the weather is amicable but a bit wet, and where a banana is a curved soft pulpy fruit covered in a yellow skin and not an unstoppable killing machine. A universe with 11 known dimensions and where a good supply of mind-altering drugs and a cup of tea are needed to get your head around the local quantum physics and tax forms. Only 5 dimensions show up on a normal day, the others are usually found in a coffee shop in Soho, with a good supply of mind-altering drugs, cups of tea, a calculator, and their tax forms as they try to find their receipts for 1839-2003. The only time all 11 dimensions are present is when they make a brief personal appearance in particle accelerators or on a Tuesday when it's poker night. In other universes the dimensions are a little smarter, they have figured out that if they push their tax department into a 12th dimension, shove that dimension into an envelope and send it to a local war zone, the war ceases and both sides die from being taxed to death. Some smart-arsed dimensions just transport their tax department into the heart of a sun or into the gravitational pull of a black hole, but this has been seen by many as unsporting.

Having been very well educated and after I left school with the highest marks anyone had seen in a generation in subjects like disillusionment and disappointment, I went on to have failed careers in such diverse industries as a penis puppeteer, a traffic cone, and professional gimp, I have now chosen to settle into normal employment and sell electrical goods, (not the ones that vibrate or require lubricant), to idiots.

I like to relax by reading books, watching films, being tortured by a beautiful Norwegian dominatrix (and since I don't speak Norwegian and don't understand a word she says, I get punished all the time! :spank: :horny: :love:), and occasionally a bit of painting.

I live in hope that one day I'll meet a nice lady, who is sensible enough not to paint herself orange with fake tan in a country where it rains all the time, and instead of the usual hitting me with her handbag, a brick, baseball bat, electric cattle prod, restraining order (of which I have an impressive collection), she might be nice to me, as they say small miracles happen everyday. The problem is this would not be classified as a "small miracle" as that would be a matter of biology and attraction. Even a certain Palestinian Jewish carpenter's son with more than a slight aversion to large planks of wood, nails, and dry white wine tasting would be scratching his head on how to make this possible. The probability calculation of such an event gives quantum physicists a headache and so they turn their attentions back to something less taxing such as trying to bend Space and Time to their will. Space and Time get really quite sick of this and often think about writing a "polite" letter to quantum physicist everywhere asking them to "pack it in and go and get a life or get laid, or otherwise they will come to their home and the physicist will have a nasty little spacial or temporal accident".

If you would like to read the collected short stories of the SAS Hermit please click here :iconsashermit:
Please visit this lovely pretty lady's page :iconicequeenofwinter: she is an inspiration to us all.

Note to all the sad stupid people who get their jollies winding actual creative DA members up:-

If you can't "play" nicely while your in my domain, I WILL block your dumb ass!

I Might Be Wrong...

2008-07-30T20:44:00.003-06:00

You might have come across this before...but I'm archiving it here for my own sake.

Bill Gates recently gave a speech at a High School about 11 things they did not, and will not learn in school. He talks about how feel-good, politically correct teachings created a generation of children with no concept of reality and how this concept set them up for failure in the real world.

Rule 1: Life is not fair - Get used to it.

Rule 2: The world won't care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish something before you feel good about yourself.

Rule 3: You will not make $60,000 a year right out of high school. You won't be a vice-president with a Mercedes until you earn both.

Rule 4: If you think your teacher is rough, wait till you get a boss.

Rule 5: Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your Grandparents had a different name for burger flipping; they called it opportunity.

Rule 6: If you mess up, it's not your parents' fault. So don't whine about your mistakes; learn from them.

Rule 7: Before you were born, your parents weren't as boring as they are now. They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes and listening to you talk about how cool you thought you were. So before yous ave the rain forest from the parasites of your parents' generation, try delousing the closet in your own room, first.

Rule 8: Your school may have done away with winners and losers, but life has not. In some schools, they have abolished failing grades and they'll give you as many times as you want to get the right answer. This doesn't bear the slightest resemblance to anything in real life.

Rule 9: Life is not divided into semesters. You don't get summers of and very few employers are interested in helping you find yourself. Do that on your own time.

Rule 10: Television is not real life. In real life, people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.

© SEASE Productions. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.
Rule 11: Be nice to nerds. Chances are you'll end up working for one.

Only In 'Murrika...

2008-03-15T13:52:00.002-06:00

Fourteen-year-old Brandon McInerney entered the computer room at EO Green Junior High School in Oxnard, California at 8:15 am on Feb 12 of this year. The eighth grader walked up behind 15-year-old Lawrence “Larry” King and in front of 20 other classmates, shot him twice in the back of the head. McInerney then fled the school, though he was apprehended soon after.

King was pronounced brain dead the next day. Two days later, his organs were harvested and he was allowed to pass away. Why did this tragedy happen? Because Larry was gay and dressed “effeminately.”

This shits just too sad to comment on...I'm gonna go dwell in self-hatred for my own species. Peace.

Between The Lines

2008-02-20T19:46:00.004-07:00

Sometimes reading the fine-print is worth it. The warranty info on my latest pair of headphones amused me greatly.

LIMITED LIFETIME PRODUCT WARRANTY
Skullcandy is proud to proved the best product warranty in the industry. If this product should fail in your lifetime, we will replace it at no charge. If the product is damaged by aggressive music listeners sliding a rail, sliding down the emergency ramp of your aircraft, slammed into your locker, slammed in your car door, run over by a car, running into a wall, getting run out of town, mountain biking, road biking, sky diving, beating your boyfriend unmercifully, getting beat down by the man, blown up in an accidental experimentation with flammable substances, or damaged in any other every day experience, it means you are living your life the way we want our product used! In these, or any other damaging events, we will replace the product for a 50% discount from retail.
Love Skullcandy.

Rest In Peace, Ashly.

OK Computer...

2008-02-06T15:27:00.000-07:00

they lied to us.

this was supposed to be the future.
where is my jetpack,
where is my robotic companion,
where is my dinner in pill form,
where is my hydrogen fueled automobile,
where is my nuclear-powered levitating house,

where is my cure for this disease?

Do androids dream of electric sheep?

Care To Go For A Spin?

2007-12-11T20:48:00.000-07:00

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

In anticipation of Christmas, ya'll!

Art Versus Evil (Byline)

2007-12-02T17:42:00.000-07:00

Carving with synthetic mechanisms, producing sounds and shapes with the authority of stone, waves and frequencies surround our earthly cell.

Understanding the knowledge of connection within the context of separation makes us better people.

All successful hustlers have the soul of an artist, journeying to the end of the night, hearts filled with hope, hands filled with grime. Creative business always follows the craftiest of arts.

Those in deviant precincts know cops can lie better than you can think as they set off for some stimuli that makes the sensation stick then settle in with said substances to soothe the system's sting.

Basing virtue on the dogged and indiscriminate application of effort, making a lot out of a little, wraps madmen around cans of metallic chrome. Cats with fat caps seek self-expansion in the face of self-deception forever forsaking flat black and gloss white.

Recorded music, digitized archives and last years' lost loot become long distance love affairs. But good things happen when echoes from the source refuse to sour.

Art versus evil and gets its can kicked cold, counted out on the canvas, sporting an abstract expressionless gaze and black, blue and burnt sienna bruises.

Don't be fooled. They really are old friends. They go back like ancient heart attacks, selling services to each other and fornicating mutual disgust.

The desire to connect is in everyone's game plan. Passengers make passage scratching signs on the walls of the internet, self administering dosages of affluence and anxiety while finding ways to kill the things they love.

Art is a lonely thing. High adventures and epic vacancies await all gamers looking to escape or create narratives they are forced to live up to.

But even the king of outcasts knows living for oneself has its price and we can't avoid feeling overcharged when we're ignored by the ones we adore.

(C) 2007 SEASE Productions/Buford Industries. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Jutified.

2007-11-12T17:07:00.000-07:00

How the hell did the ancients calculate Sine, Cosine, Tangent, Secant, Cosecant, and Cotangent before the advent of technology. I can barely manage it with a TI-84+, nevermind with an abacus...

2007-10-06T22:14:00.001-06:00

IT'S COMMON KNOLEDGE THAT WE, THE ANNONYMOUS STATES OF /b/, OWN THE INTERNET. SOME FAG SITE MESSES WITH US, WE MAKE IT CRASH AND LEAVE NO TRACE. WE HAVE HACKERS, PEDOPHILES, RACISTS, AN HEROES, SOMETHINGFAGS, EFG'S...WE GOT THE WORST OF THE WORST. BUT WHY THE FUCK DON'T WE OWN THE WORLD? THIS IS A CALL TO ARMS, A PRESAGE, A PROPHECY. THE SWORDS HAVE BEEN RAISED /b/ROTHERS, WE ARE THE THOUSANDS IN THE DARKNESS WAITING TO ATACK .INFERNAL LEGIONS, THEIR HEADS SHALL BE YOUR PRIZE, TROPHIES TO OUR DOMINION OF CONQUESTS ONLY FANTAZISED. AND TO OUR VICTORY WE WILL DRINK. THIS 30TH OCTOBER, ALL SOLDIERS WILL PAINT A MESAGE IN PUBLIC AREAS EASILY SPOTTED BY MANY PEOPLE. THE MESSAGE WILL BE THE FOLLOWING:

THIS WORLD BELONGS TO THE UNFORGIVING LEGION, YOUR END DRAWS NEAR.

THIS IS MERELY THE BEGINING..

(C) 2007 SEASE Productions. The above was posted on 4Chan by a fellow /b/tard. All Rights Reserved, EVERY Wrong Justified.

Famous Monsters Part 8: Bride Of The Monster

2007-10-05T14:55:00.000-06:00

Looks back at her lover and laughs.

As if all good things in the night go on without consequence.

Either way, anyway, it's all okay.

Especially in a system where aesthetic worth is based on units shipped. The differences between getting-it and seeing-right-through-it become heir-apparent.

Apparently information is controlled in houses of government anxious about depression. Deflation economics was never my strong suit.

I best digress and stick to dissecting the hopes of every hopeless kid. Like a scarecrow of rock and roll making sure that Johnny Law doesn't catch up with Johnny Rebel.

Scaring sparrows for amusement is plastic enthusiasm. It's not something real. Like music.

Music does something special to those that have experienced near death situations. It's hard to explain. The bylines help.

Still. Don't confuse live music and art performance. They are both the same thing.

Spray painting on rooftops in hot neighborhoods is a whole other story. You won't catch me atop Motorcycle Club digs where wheels of soul sip sanctioned sauce.

I'm too old trying to return to forever fusing cool blue grooves with funky edges. In this area of operation no think tank commandos are needed to trademark words like success. And hip.

You see, all spoils garnered by pen are ultimately judged by their penmanship.

(C)2007 SEASE Productions/Buford Industries. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

Graff'(S)lang...

2007-09-20T10:38:00.000-06:00

The book Taking the Train produces a record of the great graff artist PHASE 2's styles over the decade from 1972 to 1982, as reproduced in his black book.(1) Each of the ten steps reveals a loss of legibility. At the sixth, I would have to look at the thing for awhile to decode it. At ten, it wouldn't matter how long I looked. In the last few pieces, the name literally seems to be more and more torn up; by the last, it is in shreds. In part it thematizes the physical qualities and in particular the fragility of the paper on which it appears.

In the case of PHASE 2, at any rate, this process is magnificently conscious. Joe Austin quotes him as follows:

I'm absorbing and devouring language in its co-existing state and creating something else with it. . . . The English language isn't much, especially in its current state. By comparison (to Chinese and Japanese) it's like a dot. Why not go beyond that and just create an alphabet or language? You can't put a limit on communication or how one can communicate; you've always got to look further; that's how style expanded in the first place. . . . If they really need Western thought, why don't they examine the Greek myth of the alphabet? Cadmus sowed dragon's teeth and they sprang up as armed men. Greco-Roman letters were . . . (regiments) for an imperial, militarized world - social realities that still curse us. (114)

(C)2007. SEASE Productions/Crispin Startwell. All Right Reserved, All Wrongs Justified...

Another Thought...

2007-08-30T23:51:00.000-06:00

Space is elastic. You are conceived in a point which expands as you grow. Eventually, when your time is up, you collapse and shrink back into a no point situation. Now this is going on all the time all over the world, so if space was a fixed quantity there would be need to be a consistent ratio between life and death. Obviously there isn't. I'm lost. Anyway to take possession of a piece of space is our first gesture in life, and we occupy our portion until we depart. But what I want to know is this -who gets mine when I leave?

In the words of Richard Feynman: "If you think you understand Quantum Theory, you don't understand Quantum Theory..."

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I have no idea why St. Catherine of Siena wore her particular relic, a leather ring made from Christ's foreskin. Nor why villagers in western India pray to fossilized dinosaur eggs, believing them to be Shiva's testicles. Or on what basis young brides in Cairo are convinced that the butcher's calves' knees are an aphrodisiac. What I do know is that we like things for what they represent, not for what they are. A distinction confirmed by the statistic that the person you love is 72.8% water...

Teach Yourself Ignorance...

2007-08-30T23:20:00.000-06:00

I love my daddy becorse he give me a good ejukashun - Zoe; Aged 6

About 5000 years ago someone suddenly realised that simply by planting a stick in the ground they could make a shadow and measure the passage of time. The gnomon was the name given to the stick which cast the shadows across ancient Sumerian sundials. With a gnomon you could tell the time of day, the day of the month, the seasons of the year, the east from the west. You posessed knowledge.

Inhibition is a nail in the head...

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Take a strip of paper, give it a twist and stick the two ends together. You now have a Moebius Strip. The twist converts a two-dimensional flat strip of paper into a three-dimensional model with a curious property. You can pick it up and turn it around so obviously it occupies space, but if you run a finger around the surface (or edge) you end up where you started out. In effect it has neither back nor front, so doesn't occupy space. In which case, how can it be three-dimensional?

One can complicate the notion further. Make a Moebius model out of two strips of transparent material, say clear film, then fix them together. Image the space between the two as zero thickness. Cut a swastika out of black paper, insert it between the strips; slide it around and you'll discover it arrives back where it started except that the prongs have reversed. Slide it around once more and you'll discover it arrives back in its original form. This implies that if an astronaut made a similar round trip through a slice of space the same situation would occur. Unless he completed a couple laps his body would be permanently switched left to right. And if the strip was made out of mild steel and magnetized where would the north and south poles be?

The Rev. Edwin Abbott invented Flatland in 1884. This region is a two-dimensional plane populated by squares, circles and straight lines. Social status is determined by the number of sides one has, and moral character b acuteness of one's angles (the more acute, the more degenerate). One day the hero, Square, is started by the apparition of a point expanding in a circle; in fact circle is Sphere, who enlightens him by taking his brain to other dimensions. To learn what happened next you'll have to buy the book.

Humans could not exist in Flatland. To illustrate this (by analogy) Stephen Hawking produced a diagrammatic cross-section of a dos sliced through the digestive tract from mouth to anus. This demonstrated that a flat dog would fall apart. I was going to show the diagram but figured you could run it up in the mind....

Find out more about the 10 Dimensions here: href="http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=4280922161474483340"

(C) 2007 SEASE Productions/Alan Fletcher (The Art Of Looking Sideway). Thanks also to Martin Gardner for the use of parts of "The Ambidextrous Universe"( Penguin, Harmondsworth 1967) as well as Edwin A. Abbott for use of "Flatland"(Oneworld, Oxford 1994).

There Are Two Infinities...God And Stupidity. Curious How They Both Seem To Coincide?

Free Bill Stickers!

2007-08-08T01:06:00.000-06:00

That's The End Of The Dream...

2007-07-18T19:59:00.000-06:00

I Remember When Virginia Wasn't Whack...

2007-06-23T15:16:00.000-06:00

I'd like to thank the original poster of this on the 12Oz. Prophet forums for this inspiring post.

things were good when we were young. hop fences, jump over benches. paint for fun and listen to some old bouncing souls or Jeru, it makes you feel better, get drunk and call your best friend from high school that you havent seen in years. Talk about that H2o show you got beat up at in '97. or the stupid fight when that drunk guy that fucked with you all night got what he had coming. ride your BMX off lame jumps and do endos and flatland. skate the parking lot you learned to tail slide on. Go drink a forty in the park then buy some schwag off of andre on the corner. chill on your roof/porch and call your the ex that ruined you for six months and let her know your well, she still feels guilty. Relish in the fact that you are not living at your parents house in the same town you've always been like that guy who went to every party back in the day and now works at papa johns in the shopping center you chilled at freshman year. Everythings ok, bills will get paid, just get off your ass money is everywhere.
-that (drunk) guy you hated.
Im in a good mood the girls are treating me lovely

"Graffiti ruined my life."
"Mine too...Lets got hit some highway spots."

(C)2007 SEASE Productions. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

100th Post: Celebrity Bookmarks...

2007-06-06T17:03:00.000-06:00

The knowledge of form connects man with nature. All talk about art and truth attaches here.

Riddled with doubt and fleeting rays of uncertainty it's easy to become an author, less so an empathetic receiver. The human impulse to document experience is ubiquitous and overwhelming.

Placing judgments on the truthfulness or falseness of an environment or situation takes keen leadership. I'm hip to that skill set.

Imposing structure and order on sequences of sounds, shapes, forms and patterns requires crafty perception; how this structure leads us to experience emotional reactions is part of the mystery of graffiti, music and poetry.

Reality is non-negotiable. Subscribing to the admission of evil in order to exorcise it is no suspenseful, chilling event. Being human or becoming human is not necessarily part of the bargain.

The search for meaning breaks the heart of the guilty and innocent alike. Fits of regret drive many into mad rages.

Nobody likes being told to bury the bodies when it's not retiring quota. It's a salesman's game. You can only hope to make up for it in the mix.

Like playing fast to hide your faults. In music, if melody is your malfunction, make sure you honor it with decent treatment or don't blow. It's all hip advice. Like when someone tells you no, become dyslexic.

Graffiti, like all humanities, encapsulates the dilemma of living and dying concurrently. Like fine wine, great graff has taste, courage, individuality and irreverence.

As all musicians must pass through stages of creating unlistenable sounds before creating rewarding, listenable experiences, graff heads get gawky before getting loose.

Cool clouds gather, and at once the ultimate image emerges, defying chaos. And you grasp at things more significant than any symbol. Allowing an intense yearning for something else to take root in music, in aerosol enamels and oils.

And reaching for something greater than some celebrity's bookmark or seeking some enigma as old as the twelve-bar blues, we stumble upon what we hope is a platinum sentence.

(C)2007 SEASE Productions/Buford Industries. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

INSPI(RED)?

2007-05-17T22:49:00.000-06:00

Economic materialism is a mistake we all make. I don't believe anyone would claim to be nothing more than a materialist, but there is some amount of material tanha in all of us. Collectively, materialism fuels money worship. However, materialism is not the only thing wrong with society.
[edit] The (RED) campaign is evil.

The (RED) campaign at http://www.joinred.com/ has a simple premise: to raise money for charity, they will sell Americans materialist toys such as credit cards, cell phones, iPods, and sneakers. I wish I had made that list up but those are the actual things being sold under the (RED) brand. When people buy these toys, the charity will get $10, which they can spend on Africa. They have raised something like $30 million this way, which means that at least a million people in the United States are completely shameless consumer whores.

How did I reach this conclusion? Well, what the (RED) campaign is doing is inherently evil. The campaign rewards greed by making consumers think they have done good karma by buying totally useless crap. This is lying to yourself in its purest form. The guilt that you might feel when you buy an iPod for yourself is an essential part of consumerism. It's okay to indulge in yourself, but you have to recognize it as indulgence, not be deluded into thinking you're doing something nice for the poor orphans in Africa. Any nice things that you do, such as donating to charity, must be recognized as separate acts, good karma to counter bad karma.

The first counter-argument to this, I can imagine as, "I'm smart enough to distinguish the two acts in my mind." Then, why buy (RED) products at all? Buy yourself a regular iPod, and donate $10 to charity. Better yet, donate $150 to charity and don't buy an iPod at all.

The second counter-argument would run like, "I want to buy (RED) to show my support." If you really support something you don't need bribes. You will enjoy the act of giving itself, not the material object you get in return.

The third counter-argument would be, "The (RED) products are colored differently. By using them in public I can encourage others to donate as well." Back in the day, flaunting your donations wasn't known as encouragement. It was known by its proper name: bragging. And bragging, especially about the nice things you've done, is not a good thing. Do you know how much (RED) bragged? Participating companies spent over $100 million in advertising. That's more than three times as much money than the amount actually spent on Africa.

But now that that's out of the way, I'd like to emphasize that (RED) is not just wrong. (RED) is evil. (RED) equates the people who want to do something genuinely nice, by giving money to HIV/AIDS charities or even volunteering and putting their lives into AIDS work in Africa, with indulgent consumers who spend $150 on an iPod, and because $10 of it goes to charity, they think they are making a little miniature version of a good work. Let's make this clear: they are not doing something nice. They are realizing the straw-man materialist, that mythical hedonist who thinks that the nicest thing you can do is to do something for yourself. They are turning the old saying, "Those who help others help themselves," on its head, so that they can get maximum pleasure out of minimum effort.

(C) 2007 SEASE Productions/Shii.org - All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

Catching A Predator

2007-05-01T14:58:00.000-06:00

All my favorite innovators had rough edges. Something in their style spoke of larger truths.

Trying to return and expose one's authentic voice is the game I'm trying to name.

To reach one's own story is nothing more than a proposal for life's meaning and purpose. It's all about finding the right balance between intensity and clarity while intensely transmitting a personal environment.

While the experiences of literature, film and television are still one way feeds, trends are moving at a fast clip toward truly dangerous interactive mediums. New meanings and symbols for freedom, peace, war and unrest await.

The internet is the closest thing we have to mind reading. We can create a thought, a fantasy, a situation then entrap any mind magnetized to that specific trip. We can press charges, charge credits and secure sentences for the unlucky souls lured into their own digital quicksand. I'm not too cynical to suggest that it doesn't make for great television.

I guess there are worse ways to merge the two mediums. Certainly there must be better ways of producing product, I guess. And who among us doesn't wish our conscience as easy to clear as the cache on our computers?

The shared experiences of riding a roller coaster, catching a film, reading a book automatically shifts select audiences in community with links to shifty characters. You have to watch out.

But it's not like I need to write that out for an audience of graffiti writers. Some new graffiti kid is always on my back making sure I'm looking out for the right things on the right reasons. Making sure I know the score. And what it means to be true.

But I'm just like you. Just another boob sitting in front of youtube. Letting waves and generations of mediums come and go. Something in me still pledges allegiance to all things eight track and reel to reel.

Kids still get itchy and I know there's still a bit more paddling left which makes for good advice considering an old African proverb warning not to mock the crocodile until you have crossed the river.

(C) 2007 SEASE Productions/Buford Industries. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

Live The Life!

2007-04-18T17:27:00.000-06:00

While going through issue #9 of "While You Were Sleeping" magazine...I happened to find the letters they received amusing. That is to say, almost as amusing as their replies. Please laugh and feel the mirth as I post some of my favourites.

Hey whatz up,
I'm an artist and I would like to make my own graff mag. I'm from California. I was wondering if you can hook me up with some info to produce a graff mag. If you can break it down for me so I can try to make my own shit on mag.

Peace,
PROTOCULTUR3@aol.com

Get some construction paper, some elmer's glue, a box of crayons, and put on your imagination cap...

Dear Editor,
I was recently going through my 12 year old son's room and found a copy of your magazine. To say the least, I was appalled. I asked how he got it and how long he had had it and he replied "three months, slut." Well, if my memory serves me right, three months ago is when he was charged with molesting the neighbors' 10 year old daughter, and since then we have had complaints of him busting out windows with slingshots, scratching "My Stupid Parents" and his nickname "Lil Chubby Chuck Rok," into three of the neighbors' vehicles, and stealing vacuum cleaners. Prior to all this, he was a straight-A student, and I am fully holding your magazine responsible.

Sincerely pissed,
Parent of once sweet,
"Lil Chubby Chuck"

Once again, our intern Andrew is having serious issues he has to deal with at home...

Dear WYWS,
Hey, you guys seem to be into the younger chicks, so I wanted to ask you guys if you think I should hit this cute little girl who is a freshman in high school right now. I'm back from college and I'm twenty. The holiday break is a good time to catch up with friends and have some fun, but do you guys think she's too young?

J-Train
Pittsburgh, PA

Barring hospitalization or natural disaster, we are home at 3:15 every day to watch the 7th grader across the street get off the school bus. Does that answer your question?

Dear While You Were Sleeping,
I have been contemplating suicide for some time now. I have weighed all the pros and cons of it, and every time I come to the same conclusion. The only thing holding me back is I don't hate myself, I just hate everyone else. So what I am wondering is should I just kill other people instead?

Thanks,
Jose Phaeo
(Just after the VT Massacre...I know I'm tasteless.)

If you have any brothers or sisters with genes like yours, please take them with you...

WYWS-
I'm pretty new to the graff scene, and I'd like to say thanks for the inspiration and motivation you guys have given me. Here's the problem I've got - I just moved from Brooklyn to South Jersey a few days ago, and so far I've only seen tags around. Don't get me wrong, tags are dope, but I'm dying to see some insane pieces. Give me some tips if you could on where to go and maybe some tips on painting, and I'll send you a picture of my first piece and some naked chicks' pictures.

Thanks again,
BEING-?

P.S. I got arrested last night for tagging the F-Train and need a new name. 17 hours in jail. They took my paint and markers. Off the pig.

They probably took something else from you in jail too. My best advice to aspiring graffiti writers is quit now! Join the football team, you'll get way hotter chicks and drink way more free beer if you score the winning touchdown.

Dislcaimer:
It is not ok to hurt people, break into buildings or homes, write on people's shit, do drugs or touch underage girls. Though these activities might seem fun and amusing to read about, doing them can get you in a whole heap of trouble. If you do anything and get away with it, please write and tell us about it. If you get caught, don't blame us.

Damn, man...I should totally turn this into an online magazine. Send me a message if you think it would be a cool idea.

(C) 2007 SEASE Productions. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

Critical Mass: The Death Of The Freight Train Scene.

2007-04-14T19:36:00.000-06:00

I doubt that the people I most want to reach with this thread care much about history or the way events converge to create change. Graffiti itself to many who do it is a reckless, rampaging "fuck you" to anyone watching or listening, so the idea of using foresight and intelligence to make life easier for yourself or others is a foreign one. Despite this, I'm going to throw my thoughts out there for people to chew on. This isn't a sermon, just something to think about.
Make no mistake, these are the good old days of freight graffiti, the years everyone in the game will remember most fondly: for their chillness, the names, the styles, the feeling of being part of the next big wave of rolling canvases since the suppression of the NYC subways. Did anyone doing trains in 1980 suspect they had less than ten years till the scene died down to almost nothing?
What did it take to kill the New York subways? A bunch of factors converged. A couple of mayors harping on "quality of life" issues. Public ignorance of how the scene worked was a bigger factor than anybody gives it credit for, in my opinion. The public made no distinction between piecers with a vision, like Dondi, and gangs whose thing was busting out subway windows and fucking with passengers. They were all lumped together as one big "bad element", and dealt with by people with that mentality.
What will it take to kill the freight scene? "Critical mass", a bunch of factors converging, some of them seemingly unrelated. First of all, it will take years, although I think we have less of those than everyone else thinks. Also, it will be a death by degrees - it's not that there will be a day when nothing will run, it will just be harder to get over, and harder to find a spot where you have time to do more than small stuff.
Everything plays a role in achieving critical mass. Painting over numbers on freights. Bombing engines. Leaving cans for workers to trip over. Increased general security after 9/11, especially regarding chemical/hazmat shipments and bulletins to workers to be alert for suspicious persons. Innovations in trespasser detection technology, and a drop in price in this equipment, such that yards get much harder to work with. Continuing capitalist philosophy that property is worth more than people ensures the hiring of more security personnel and the building of more fences, lights, cameras, etc. at layups as well as yards. Pissed off railfans forming watch groups in league with the railroad companies themselves, for a more "community policing" approach to dealing with writers, burglars, and random vandals and trespassers (who, again, are often lumped together as all the same in the eyes of the property owners). Independent companies offering fast turnaround and low cost on buffing/restamping painted cars (this is already happening).
The swing vote will be railroad workers when it comes to the life or death of the scene. They are the guys most likely to discover writers or their spots, and they have the power to let it slide or report it and put heat on the spot and the scene. Being nice to workers (in ways that count) is the number one thing any writer can do to delay critical mass. That means staying off the numbers, not painting engines or other RR equipment besides the freight cars, and disposing of your empty cans elsewhere. The empty cans issue is not a "don't litter" thing - it's a safety issue. Workers have to run alongside moving trains and throw a lever to uncouple cars, or mount and dismount moving trains, and they don't need to be landing on round, slippery cans.
Every small thing you do that you hear freight heads advising against contributes a little bit toward critical mass. I hear all kinds of excuses. "Well yards out here are already burnt so why not hit engines." You might not notice a difference in security in your area. But you are having your effect. Workers, railfans, management, internet toys are all paying attention. If one worker gets killed tripping over a paint can and falling under a train, that one incident will do a lot of damage, create a lot of anger. If enough company logos on engines disappear beneath pieces, railfans will start banding together with RRs to police spots better. Toys come on the Net and see stupid behavior and copy it, heating up more and more spots from the city to the cuts. They might also pay too little attention to yard/train safety and get killed trying to paint, which could spark some reporter doing a "spotlight" story on kids and freight painting that gets play. (I'm still waiting for a movie or book to drop which blows up the scene by portraying it fictionally.) All of this shit contributes to critical mass.
I think some heads secretly want the scene to be much harder in a few years, so they can enjoy their "back in the day" king status, like the subway kings can now. Others, like me, would rather spread the word about how to make it last longer. I'm not one to tell people what to do without offering logical reasons - "you shouldn't hit engines or go over numbers" - I'd rather make people aware of the consequences, and let them make their own decisions. I know I'll do what I can to delay critical mass. I hope others can see their own role and make an informed decision about how to handle their spots and situations.

- Cracked Ass (12.Oz Prophet Moderator)

(C) 2007 SEASE Productions. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

Rest In Power WASTER12

2007-04-11T17:29:00.001-06:00

Yet another Canadian great is gone. WASTER12, a prolific writer from Montreal has been taken from us. I wish I had known him more personally, having only spoken to him online a few times. Needless to say, from what little I did know of him, I held and still do hold nothing but respect for the man and his awe inducing art. Willing to help out just about anyone that didn't have an over-inflated ego, and an incredibly funny guy...he was a key member of the Bombing Science community and shall be missed by all of us. I write this post to commemorate him, his work and his dedication to the culture we mutually take part in.

Rest In Peace WASTER12 (666Camp,CAC)
Rest In Peace Antonio.

New Linkin Park Album: "Minutes To Midnight"

2007-04-03T17:42:00.001-06:00

I think that this is official, just thought I'd share it with you guys.

Directory: Linkin Park - Minutes To Midnight (2007)

Files:
01. Linkin Park - Stand!.mp3
02. Linkin Park - Bleed It Out.mp3
03. Linkin Park - Get Through.mp3
04. Linkin Park - What I've Done.mp3
05. Linkin Park - In This World.mp3
06. Linkin Park - The Little Things Give You Away.mp3
07. Linkin Park - Hold Nothing Back.mp3
08. Linkin Park - Over The Top.mp3
09. Linkin Park - Promisse.mp3
10. Linkin Park - Real Life.mp3
11. Linkin Park - Afraid This Time.mp3
12. Linkin Park - 2 Worlds.mp3
13. Linkin Park - Until The End.mp3
14. Linkin Park - Collapsing The Unit.mp3
15. Linkin Park - We Use The Pain.mp3
16. Linkin Park - One Perfect Something.mp3
17. Linkin Park - No Way (Bonus Track).mp3
18. Linkin Park - Feel (demo '01) (bonus track).mp3
19. Linkin Park - Screaming At Space (Bonus Track).mp3
20. Linkin Park - [Qwety] (Live Somer Sonic '06) (Bonus Track).mp3

Digital Blasphemies

2007-04-02T17:27:00.000-06:00

There's no time for analogy or metaphor in the land of the lost. Life has its own schedule and we have to find our own way to pick the lock.

Conquering and subjugating nature is what we've been conditioned to do. Reaching for an ambition higher than circumstance requires accepting our natural state. This is what organic growth is all about.

Decorations such as music and graffiti live parasitic on the margins of nature and just as melody is the ultimate triumph of form over detail, graffiti is the triumph of will over state, will over power.

Graffiti addicts have at it, servicing craft to inform truth and beauty, creating sublime work from suspect beliefs, running on a love with limited passion and a lust consumed by its own want.

Having love for what something is rather than for what something isn't settles our souls. Helps sleepwalkers slip silently. It allows us to get past our past while presenting a case for the present presents moments of great pretense. But we need to get past this point.

If you have bad shit in your soul, it has to find its way out. So we must go to the devil in our own way, controlling our demons so that we can become the monsters we wish to be.

Borrowing a phrase from Shakespeare, rock stars with voices from the edge leading to the ledge are false pundits "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." Bonfires of sanity are ceremonies for drunks riding a wave of hiccups.

Great graffiti writers steer clear of potential potholes. They get fixed on simple information knowing the key to all art is in violating expectations. Mastering the mathematics of music, the craft of graffiti, and handling your malt liquor makes for meaningful mood swings.

Anybody that stakes anything against itself talks mad shit. There's no analogy to it. No metaphor to put it in perspective. To speak of things sacred while navigating through the ruins says it all.

(C) 2007 SEASE Productions/Buford Industries. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

True Words Of Wisdom

2007-03-10T18:49:00.000-07:00

"I smoke. If this bothers anyone, I suggest you look around at the world in which we live and shut your fuckin' mouth."

"Your denial is beneath you, and thanks to the use of hallucinogenic drugs, I see through you."

"Watching television is like taking black spray paint to your third eye."

"If you don't believe drugs have done good things for us, then go home and burn all your records, all your tapes, and all your CDs because every one of those artists who have made brilliant music and enhanced your lives? REAL fucking high on drugs."

"The musicians today who don't do drugs and in fact speak out against it? "Rock Against Drugs?" BOY do they suck."

"Children are smarter than any of us. Know how I know that? I don't know one child with a full time job and children."

"We gotta come to some new ideas about life folks ok? I'm not being blase about abortion, it might be a real issue, it might not, doesn't matter to me. What matters is that if you believe in the sanctity of life then you believe it for life of all ages. That's what I hate about this child-worship syndrome going on. "Save the children! They're killing children! How many children were at Waco? They're killing children!" What does that mean? They reach a certain age and they're off your fucking love-list? Fuck your children, if that's the way you think then fuck you too. You either love all people of all ages or you shut the fuck up."

"Christianity has a built-in defense system: anything that questions a belief, no matter how logical the argument is, is the work of Satan by the very fact that it makes you question a belief. It's a very interesting defense mechanism and the only way to get by it -- and believe me, I was raised Southern Baptist -- is to take massive amounts of mushrooms, sit in a field, and just go, "Show me.""

"It's just a ride and we can change it any time we want. It's only a choice. No effort, no work, no job, no savings and money, a choice, right now, between fear and love. The eyes of fear want you to put bigger locks on your door, buy guns, close yourself off. The eyes of love instead see all of us as one."

"We are the facilitators of our own creative evolution."

"The world is like a ride in an amusement park. And when you choose to go on it you think it's real because that's how powerful our minds are. And the ride goes up and down and round and round. It has thrills and chills and it's very brightly coloured and it's very loud and it's fun, for a while. Some people have been on the ride for a long time and they begin to question: "Is this real, or is this just a ride?" And other people have remembered, and they come back to us, they say, "Hey, don't worry, don't be afraid, ever, because this is just a ride." And we kill those people."

"I'm gonna share with you a vision that I had, cause I love you. And you feel it. You know all that money we spend on nuclear weapons and defense each year, trillions of dollars, correct? Instead -- just play with this -- if we spent that money feeding and clothing the poor of the world -- and it would pay for it many times over, not one human being excluded -- we can explore space together, both inner and outer, forever in peace. Thank you very much. You've been great, I hope you enjoyed it."

-Bill Hicks-

(C)2007 SEASE Productions. (No...I am NOT a stoner) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. Duuuuuuuude...Lets go see that.......fuckin' duuuuude tonight!

Experimental Nazi Zombies...

2007-03-02T17:01:00.000-07:00

I found the following on The Daily Beard's "Ask Daily" section...Needless to say, I got a huge kick out of it.

Dear Daily

I have a serious issue that I would like to try to understand yet don’t know where to start. Why is it that nobody accepts MySpace comments of mine with pictures of disgusting and repulsive autopsies? I don’t understand why people don't like me for it. Whenever I try to leave an autopsy comment, it always gets deleted. I, as a zombie, feel personally offended by this and feel its a discrimination issue and a hideous violation of zombie rights. When are people going to give zombies a chance to express themselves?!!?

Please help and cheers,

-ENZ

Dear Experimental Nazi Zombies,

Cheers. I am sorry that you are suffering. And thank you for your frank thoughts regarding one of my pet issues: "The insensitivity of the in-crowd."

Experimental, have you ever heard the expression "You are like a diamond in the rough?" And have you ever thought about how subtly demeaning it actually is? Without careful examination, one might make the mistake of mistaking this cliché for a compliment.

The phrase "in the rough," could be considered particularly belittling for you, Experimental, as you are made wholly of decaying dead flesh.

Whensoever you are forced to face the wooden faces of the "in-crowd," now and heretofore evermore you will probably spark a premonition of their own unavoidable future-demise. Despite your efforts to shine, you will always seem like "the rough," before their eyes with little hope of ever gaining in lustre, sparkle or even flicker. It's best to come to terms with this in your own fashion and sooner than later, My Dear Zombie.

Don't mistake my meaning! You are not without great value or great beauty; quite the contrary. People are people, and a diamond may be a girl's best friend, but "You can't cook on it!" the prophets have already observed.

I have always preferred loaves of fresh bread to these so-called precious stones.

I am not trying to talk you out of your pain, Zombie. It may always hurt you when others say that your horrific visage is too ugly for them to keep company with, But is it that your visage is too hideous for them to bear Zombie, or simply too beautiful?

In my experience, "the in-group," rejects someone like you because of Raw Fear and nothing else. But truth be told, their fear has nothing to do with you. They only run and hide due to the the many less-than-tasteful facets of their being that you reflect to them simply by being true to your essential nature.

There are many aspects to a truly beautiful person, Zombie. And to be certain, you embody more than a few of them. Your sensitivity, intelligence, forthrightness, your willingness to be vulnerable are all ample proofs that you are indeed worthy of the moniker: Raw Beauty.

--And just because a thing is rare, does not make it valuable.

What if we could change the “diamond in the rough,” metaphor to “You are like a loaf of bread covered by a touch of mold.”

So what. When baby goes hungry, foodstuffs are ALWAYS more valuable than other people’s opinions. And anyway what do zombies eat? Other people’s brains.

I would use this to my advantage if I were you, Experimental. Next time one of these insensitive clods decides to reject you on the basis of your appearance or the way that you express yourself, I suggest this: --Crash their exclusive-party like you were the guest-of-honor, ignore their behavior, peel back their skull-caps and immediately begin eating their brains like so many delicious trays of cocktail wieners. That will more than likely give you the understanding that you seek.

Compassionately,

-Daily Beard

© 2007 SEASE Productions/Daily Beard. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

2007-03-02T16:30:00.000-07:00

As of the 28th of February...this Blog was a year old. An entire year of thoughts, mood-swings, and rants. Cool huh? Anyways, before I get all teary-eyed and nostalgic and wreck my keyboard with Saline solution....let's get on with this month's Byline.

Oh, to be anxious, restless and innocent under the midnight moon. Cool shapes in outer space provide all the mystery necessary to those without want.

Sometimes you need to set off on a lunar cooling. Get your graff on and go. I know.

Acting on emotion has its own logic. Scrambling up the math keeps it locked down in craft. Science and voodoo art cast their own spells.

Trying to return to your genuine voice is as odyssean as it gets. If you're any good at all (at anything) you know you can be better. And you're not growing if you don't feel awkward.

I can't contemplate the pleasures and luxury of making a decision without having my back against a wall. Modern society doesn't let one be, it forces one's hand.

Battles being built to lose line up. Long Tails of tolerance dot the tactics but the strategy is up in the stratosphere. Some parties pledge that confrontation allows you to call winners when you're nowhere near the bullets and flames.

But then some artist from the 1980s hits you. That high dose delivered quickly that overwhelms the senses. Setting it off.

And this character creates dialogue. Thinking.

There's gotta be a better way than smoking dope out of cherry coke cans and listening to alt takes of Charlie Parker like an art student devouring Leonardo sketches. So long ago but the outline hasn't quite faded.

It's easy to come up with something like that when you decide everyone deserves to dream in dayglo colors. Or we all should be entitled to.

Populist sources say the convictions of your heart and the actual contents of your thoughts are less important in guiding your actions than the immediate context of your behavior.

I don't know what the right answer is. But I'll check Wikipedia then check back with you.

© 2007 SEASE Productions/Buford Industries. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

Not This Crap Again...

2007-02-19T12:00:00.000-07:00

The following picture was posted on the same imageboard as the last one...and I, yet again...had to follow in the same vein.

Rei: "Now hang on a minute, for this rose is only seemingly innocent in its construction. For in fact it contains 50 micrograms of 'la cantrella' smeared on a dart within a gauss coil, which itself is powered by piezoelectric motors, to dispatch my target, Shinji, with minimum effort. There is a tilt-mechanism within the stem of the rose which when placed at a 90 degree angle to the ground will twist the petals of the rose into a linear arrangement forming the stabilising fins of my weapon; what I call the RoseDart 3000. When the dart hits the target the piezoelectric crystals will embed into the target's skin and will harness the target's own bio-electric field to power the gauss coil and inject the deadly poison. With some luck I believe I can achieve great success."

Made Rei Laugh...

(C) 2007 SEASE Productions. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

Happy Valentine's Day...Nobody Loves You.

2007-02-13T18:36:00.000-07:00

Roses are RED.
Violets are BLUE.
ALL MY BASE
ARE BELONG TO YOU!

Awww Fit...I shucked up.

(C)2007 SEASE Productions. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

IB Bored.

2007-02-07T16:09:00.000-07:00

Rei: "Hey, check this out for this paper airplane is only seemingly so innocent in it‘s construction, for in fact it carries a capsule of 5cc of cyanide which is set up behind a spring-loaded syringe. When it makes contact with the target it will, by a mixture of kinetic and hydrostatic forces, inject the target causing at first convulsions then death. I have adjusted the right wing flap by .2 degrees and I'm throwing it at a pitch of 10 degrees to aid me in my endeavor to hit Shinji in the kitchen, and by my calculations it should hit him in the left buttock with ideal conditions not including air currents and thermal areas of air which may displace the trajectory of the plane by 7.8%. However, I have taken this error ratio into account and I believe, with luck, that I can achieve great success."

Asuka: "Word."

(C)2007 SEASE Productions. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. Image stolen from /b/ - 4Chan.org

Hero Worship

2007-02-04T15:07:00.000-07:00

Beware the rise of the fire gods. Sound the trumpet and radiate courage boys. The airwaves sing a plea for violence, asking to give war a chance.

There's a firefight in sight and not too many chances left to take. Roadside bombs keep exploding, changing everything in a Baghdad minute.

The skyscrapers are standing tall but the collective will is growing thin realizing demons disguised as democracy do deadly damage.

Heroes don't fabricate will. They don't suspend termination orders. They find a way to augment diplomacy in order to restructure the guns for the benefit of the butter.

With that high expectation we detach here, finding personal salvation and social revolution packed in a capsule, bottled in a can. It's as fake as double tracked vocals.

Just like our heroes. Nothing more than cassette tape rockers in a VHS world. Pat Benatar almost had it right, it's lust that's a battlefield.

Running to take shelter in sexual congress and senatorial sin, I get high off post-pop anthems from the post-war western world, pandering to poets posthumously.

Relaxing with recondite rituals and myths, I feel vibrations of violence amidst an impending sense of goodness.

It's a sick feeling that makes you shiver like thinking about French kissing a razor blade.

All your heroes become cartoons. Starting out with a gimmick ending with a bang. But there is beauty in the notion of pathos being underrated.

Meanwhile, demons on demonstration display demonstrative demeanor. Dragging around, mildly drugged. Trying to do the research and making a genuine effort.

When love is the subplot and you believe in inspiration, you deserve your moments.

© 2007 Buford Industries/SEASE Productions. (Thanks Stockcap!) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justfied.

FLCL

2007-01-30T20:13:00.000-07:00

Not written by me, but it made me laugh and actually had ME surprised at how well some people can rant. It's also a review for a DAMN good show.

FLCL: (Fooly Cooly/Furi-Kuri/Whatever The Hell You Call It!)

So, like, there's this cultural phenom, okay, and it's like about all these cartoons, and the cartoons have giant robots and kids with funny-colored hair like they stepped out of Amadeus's dressing room when he was on a Manic Panic binge, and there's the occasional innuendo (only they call it "Fan Service") and their faces get really distorted and they do a lot of weird things like saying things like, "What?! The plot development that just took place offscreen between the last two edits has MOVED FORWARD?!" and they blow a lot of stuff up really good and find out that when you blow up something really big, like a planet or a space station or the Olympic Stadium or wherever it is something's getting blown up a whole bunch of cracks appear in it and all this light shines out from it for this second that actually lasts about fourteen-and-a-half seconds and they call that CREATIVE LICENSE, how DARE THEY!, and they call the whole thing anime and they charge us $35 a disc for it with two lousy goddamned episodes on it and they can get away with it because the shit they put into these anime things is enough to make your corpus callosum rot'n'drop clean out of your diddly-widdly, canyoudigit, and God knows with the rest of KULCHUR getting so g-d'ed dull lately there are plenty of us who will line up and pay through the nosehairs to see something DIFFERENT. Like FLCL.

Teenage Near-Requited Affection In The Shadow Of The Giant Steam Iron, Baby.

And if anime is to conventional-animated-or-non-type-stuff-out-there the way getting smashed in the forehead with a bass guitar is to a feathered kiss on the earlobe, well, then FLCL is the bass guitar to anime's forehead, AND the Wile E. Coyote Acme Rocket up the ass for good measure. This is not about doing anything halfway, and if I catch anyone reading this review doing anything halfway I will find them and punish them mercilessly by locking them in a closet and making them Do It All The Way, and I'll even go so far as to play that old Eighties tune by Sly Fox or Fly Box or whateverthefucktheywerecalled about Going All The Way only I can't remember the name of it now because this is an FLCL review gottverdammt, so pay attention because you're going to be tested on this. Now. Pencils down and listen.

Now you've seen your Giant Robos and your Cultural Cat Girl Nuku Nukus and your Event Horzon Escape Climber Kenshin Bullshit Goddess In the Shells, but I'll swear (like I haven't been swearing a lot in this review already! HA HA! I kill me!) on a stack of AKIRA PRODUCTION REPORTs all the way to the attic that you have never set eyeballs on anything remotely FLCL-ish in your whole period of Doing Time on Planet Earth. This affirmation comes with a money-back guarantee, y'see: if you HAVE seen anything like FLCL that isn't actually FLCL itself, I'll go to the local Brickbuster and demand my money back! Even though I didn't buy the thing there! And I can't! Because those hopeless hosers don't even carry the fucking thing! Imagine that! The brainstretcher anime ne plus ultra for the 2K3 and THEY DON'T FROGGING CARRY IT! That and they're a bunch of corporate toad-felchers anyway, and they don't know the differences between widescreen and fullscreen and refuse to carry Salo, so fook'm.

And if they did, you know what they'd say about it?

See Vespa! See Vespa! Get The Bass Guitar Smash Yeah! Go Join
Your Girlfriend Go All Over Ape Crazy, Woo Woo!

"It doesn't make sense."

HA. I say. The show does Not Make Sense. HA and HA again. Who are these people, Johnnie Cochran's Clones? Well, sir, may I tell your face that THAT does Not Make Sense, either. This is FLCL, not Barney The Dinosaur Lead-You-By-The-Hand-And-Explain-All-The-Symbolism-And-Imagery-To-You Hour. This show you have to actually use your gears and noodle to FIGURE THINGS OUT FOR YOURSELF. You have to put together the pieces. Like the girl who's swinging the bat in the first scene. What do you want, subtitles to tell you she's homeless and is pining for her former boyfriend who left her to go to America and play baseball and has only written back to his younger brother who's the 11-year-old who doesn't want a hell of a lot to do with her and who is also in that first scene and yet somehow is the object of her affection because love is like the toothpaste in a tube that's getting stepped on or something and when someone STEPS on your HEART all the LOVE comes OUT and goes spewing off in unexpected directions and goes sticking to other people who least expect it.

Like the same way we have the OTHER girl (are you CONFUSED YET?!) who comes a-ridin' out of the morning mist on that crazysexycoolyellow Vespa with the "P!" on it and with the bass guitar that has a rip cord so she can fire it up like a chainsaw, and here she comes abrooombraroomba roaring out of nowhere so she can take a swing right at the Kid's forehead and create this big chunky lump that he has to Shamefully Cover Up And Hide From His Friends Who All Somehow Know About This Girl Anyway, and it's all like metaphorical and stuff, because that big horn-shaped thing coming out of his head is a HARD-ON!! Get it?! It's all about the Crazy Awkwardness of Growing Up!! BLACK MEANS DEATH, SEE!??!? Can't you see how all this stuff ties together perfectly?

Horn ... Cigarette ... Erection ... SYMBOLISM!! GENIUS!!!

Well, it DID, only then this giant robot came out of the horn and my beautiful post-neo-modernistic-symbolic theory was all shot to fuckin' shit.

Oh, and there's this big factory that looks like a giant steam iron, where they make medical something-or-others.

This all ties together, really it does.

So, like, this girl with the bass guitar somehow manages to in-sin-you-ate herself in with this kid's dad and becomes their housekeeper, and then there's a robot battle that is straight out of the lat 147 episodes of Neo Genesis Crapshit Evangelist Bumfuck you saw except that it's like, actually funny and stuff, and then the robot that got clobbered goes and gets all humble and starts working for them around the house too and helping out in the bread factory they run except he's Not All That Good. And this crazysexywhacky girl who steals nurse's uniforms and gives him a shotgun vestpocket (Vespa-cket? HA HA! Funny!) diagnosis tells him she's an alien, and that of course only pisses him off more, because he has no idea which end is up or down or what side of the t.p. to wipe with anythemoreover. And the best part of all of this, as if you haven't guessed by now, is that the whole thing is done in this pastely-splashy digi-designed hinky-dinky ColorFormy anime-y style that REFLECTS THE CONFUSION HE MUST BE FEELING AT THIS INCREDIBLY AWKWARD AND DIFFICULT STAGE IN HIS PRE-PUBESCENT DEVELOPMENT! Metaphor! Meaning! Moniker! Monkees!

Doing That Thing You Do With That Robot That You Did
That Thing With That You Were Doing Things Because Of
That Thing You Were Doing With It - Style.

And that's just about all the summary you're going to get out of this, because the summation of FLCL is that it defies summary. It puts up Great Walls of China against summary, goes and sends out little evil agents that slit the throats of summary IN THEIR SLEEP, and bollixes summation right in the stinkin' tender CORNHOLE. This is an Experience with the cap E that you have to Experience for Yourself to Get It. And if you just don't get it, then you ain't gettin' it, and you just ain't with it, you dig it? So get your shovel and start diggin'. There's two more discs like this and they're about as weird. Blues.

Disc notes: Those cheap bastards at Synch Point -- uh, just kidding, HA HA! Although, really, you thought I got this disc as a free promo begging-to-be-reviewed press kit summation thingy? Bullcrap; I paid good American Green WELL IN ADVANCE for it and had to wait the humiliatingly slow torturous months while they delayed the release to get all their ducks and drakes in a row with it. It has colors and sounds and pictures and if you get your fingerprints on it your mom will spank you, but it has this really really terrific looking coloriffic transfer that's sharp enough to make you bleed your Gatorade and it has this booklet with a reproduction of this moment in the story when they're all doing this Let's Imitate A Manga (Japanese Comic Book To You Illiterate Unaccultured Dullards, Ha Ha) thingamabobbo only it's ANIMATED, you see, and essays and lectures and chapter stops and reversible art so you can hide the thing from your Dutch Uncle when he comes over. Yeah!

LoopTroopin'

2007-01-27T00:28:00.000-07:00

Everybody Up!

We're on the eve of a heavenly divine war.

Not to end all conflict, but to redefine it. A storm of swords clashes and crashes silently beside each and every ear, while the silent screams of the pacifist kings cause more blood than any conflict ever could.

Visions of Ghandi cloud the mind in a purple haze while a soft silhouette of chimes sound a childish rhythm right between my eyes. I can see it now, as the fashion victims fall...they claim catastrophic causes to be behind boredom and interoperability. I shake the contents of my fist until the rattle subsides into a slow drone of clicks...suddenly my senses are shot to Hell and the realisation hits me...it's the Apocalypse Now! I look left and find Dennis Hopper, hopped up on cocaine and screaming for more "nose-candy". My right-hand side is nothing but piles built by bodies, structures formed by pinwheels of limbs. The corpse at my feet is fresh, warmth still visible in the spreading pool of blood. Lifeless eyes plead for mercy, but my thin-lipped grin won't subside. No...Why would I stop? The idea of sorrow is akin to a form of mental-masturbation...and it gives me no pleasure.

Everything that I could say would fade into insignificance in comparison to the whirlwind that is my mind. The green outline that locks in this ball-point pen ink screams "AMATEUR" as I scrutinize it...picking up on every fault and discrepancy. One way or t'other...I'm not giving up.

(C) 2007 SEASE Productions. (Yes, I said masturbation...Get over it you immature pansies.) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justfied.

Gender Test for Men, Women, Other. (Beta)

2007-01-21T14:12:00.000-07:00

Time Limit: 3 Minutes
Please use a No. 2HB Pencil.
No chewing gum.
Cellphones off.
Note: There are no "correct" answers, but all have chromosomal implications.

1. "The Immaculate Reception" refers to:
A) Something involving football.
B) Franco Harris catching a deflected pass on fourth and 10 and running 60 yards for a touchdown in the closing seconds of the game to give the Pittsburgh Steelers a thrilling playoff victory over the Oakland Raiders on Dec. 23, 1972.
C)The fact that Joseph and Mary could throw a welcoming party in Bethlehem for the Three Wise Men despite having no caterer.

2. True or False? The car should be lowered from the jack before you finish tightening the lug nuts after changing a flat tire.
A) True.
B) False.
C) As if...

3. Armpit farts are:
A) Always funny.
B) Not something to be attempted by an amateur.
C) One of the big reasons Donald Trump's last marriage failed.

4. A man can find the milk in the fridge:
A) Sometimes.
B) Only if God directly intervenes.
C) Only if the milk has acquired the gift of speech.

5. A child who is crying because he struck out in a baseball game should be:
A) Chucked under the chin and told, "Get 'em next time, slugger."
B) Immersed in love and doted upon with so much affection and candy treats that he loses any ability to distinguish between success and failure.
C) Named a plaintiff in a lawsuit against the opposing pitcher, his parents, the opposing coach, the league, the manufacturers of the obviously defective baseball bat and ball, and the municipality for it's failure to turn on the ball-field lights despite the abundance of cloud-cover.

6. The uterus is:
A) A female reproductive organ, sometimes called the womb.
B) A wind instrument in an orchestra.
C) A rare African mammal. (pl.: uteri)

7. Which is the funniest word?
A) Concupiscence.
B) Proboscis.
C) Pecker.

8. A "doily" is:
A) A small, decorative mat of lace or paper.
B) A wheeled handcart use for moving heavy objects.
C) A nickname for a socialite, derived from a famous first lady of the United States in the early 19th century, Doily Madison.

9. True or False? It is rude for a man to "adjust himself" in public.
A) Extraordinarily so.
B) False, if it's an emergency.
C) Not if he does it surreptitiously with a hand in his pocket and avoids loud commentary along the lines of, "Dagnabbit, my boys can't breathe!"

10. When a male driver becomes lost in a strange city, the best course of action is to:
A) Stop and ask directions and don't worry that this suggests a deep failure of manliness.
B) Get out a sextant and take a reading of the longitude and latitude based on the position of the stars.
C) Keep insisting that you're not really lost, then pull into the first Burger King or Taco Bell you see and strap on the feeding bag.

11. Define "Vas Deferens":
A) A reproductive tube, the name of which is taught to students in sex education classes in a vain attempt to get the boys to stop using words such as "weenie".
B) The new rock band formed by former members of Van Halen, Led Zeppelin, and Def Leppard.
C) A Latin phrase describing how men and women vary.

12. The appropriate thing to do immediate after sex is:
A) Snuggle.
B) Fall Asleep.
C) Hang Up The Phone.

(C) Joel Achenbach (Washington Post)/SEASE Productions. (TACOS!!!!) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

I Wish They'd Had This When I Started Writing...

2007-01-17T17:54:00.000-07:00

Thanks to "What Happened to the Letters" for this amusing article:

Here is a page taken out of "The Art of
Getting Over", it was originally a transcript at the Graffiti Writers Local One Union Hall.
(I know it has some serious writing errors, but I'm too lazy to go in and fix them. Enjoy!)

SO YOU WANT TO WRITE ON WALLS?
There are few things you must do to make your presence in this subculture a welcome one. First; Know the history. Second; Know the rules of the game. Third; work hard at being good, or at least competent. Fourth; snitches and shit tlakers get stitches and need walkers. Fifth; you're good, but not that good. Keep your fat head to a reasonable swell and get back to work. These are the five fingers to your left hand, get to know them well. Soon you'll be able to get a grip on your self-esteem and we'll all be better for it.

FIRST : INDUSTRY
Cavemen drew pictures on walls, but egyptians were the first language artists, then Romans bit the steez. The Greeks, Incans, and Native Americans all got with the program. There was graffiti on the New York subway a year after it was built. There is graffiti on the moon. If graffiti is vandalism, and vandalism is a form of pollution, then man has left his mark with garbage at the fullest reaches of the universe. So you with your pathetic desire to be remembered are in good company. It's important to know how graff developed in your area code, so consult local experts, and remember, everybody lies.

SECOND; THE RULES
1)You suck until further notice.
2)It's gonna take a long time before we even acknowledge your existence, even longer before we can bear to look at that foul scribble you clal your name. To speed the process of acceptance, you can:
A-Choose a clever name that defies the norm of simple-minded slang. An example of a good name is "ARGUE" (RIP). It looks good when written, sounds cool when spoken, and conveys a combatative attitude. On the other hand "ENEMA" (actual name) looks, sounds, and conveys a shitty attitude. BE CHOOSY.
B-Use paint, gain a thorough knowledge of supplies, remember that permission walls, stickers, and dust tags are small parts of a balanced diet, be bold, learn a style of writing for every occasion, and write your name bigger every time you go out.
3)Jealousy is a disease for the weak
4)Your heart is your greatest possession, don't let it get taken from you.
5) Don't write on places of worship, people's houses in general, other writers names, and tombstones. Writing on memorial walls and cars is beef beyond belief. Furthermore, involving civilians in your beef is gorunds for dismissal. These are the five finges to your right hand. Get to know them well. Give them soul claps, firm handshakes, and throw smooth bolo punches

THIRD; DEVELOPING STYLE
Although being a toy seems undesirable, you should enjoy it while you can. at this stage you can bite all you want with no remorse. All your elders will say is, "Awww isn't that cute, kootchie kotchie koo." So steal that dope connection, rob that color scheme, and loot whole letterforms. Don't worry about giving any credit, we'll pat ourselves on the back and brag how we influenced the next generation. However, style isn't a cruch or schtick. It is understanding why that connection you bit flows, or why that color scheme bumps. Style is the process to an appealing end. Once you got it down to a science, you cna reinvent letterforms to suit yourself. This creative growth will amaze the old and young alike. Pretty soon somebody will steal your secret sauce and the cycle will be renewed. If this happens to you, don't bitch about not getting your due.

Graffiti is the language of the ignored. If your style is stolen, someone heard you speaking. You got what you wanted from the beginning, some attention, you big baby.

FOURTH: THE LAW
It must be noted that hte vandal squad loves graffiti. Their job requires them to fiend for graff as much as you do. When you wreck enough walls, they'll want ot meet you. Just liek the ball huggers outside the graff shop, they'll recite every spot you hit, with the difference being you'll also hear the miranda warning. To postpone this, go solo as much as possible. Don't write with anyone that won't fight for you. Don't be paranoid, but be careful. If you avoid writing on pristine properties, you'll stay in misdameanor territory, and you woen't divert the cops attention from pastry and caffein consumption (consult local laws to be sure). Remember, if they didnt see you do it, it's almost impossible for them to win a conviction without your damming testimony. Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP! Giving a cop info on another writer wil doom you to a life of ridicule, from cops and kids alike, with no parole.

FIFTH: EGO TRIPPIN
There's nothign wrong with knowing you're the shit as long as you are. But once you reach that conclusion, you're one foot ove the edge of falling off. Watch your step fathead, theres no shortage of people chanting, "JUMP JUMP JUMP!" There are plenty of writers that have been painting for well ovr 20 years, and your posing and fronting looks retarted next to them. Get back to work you "never was" slouch.
In conclusion, graffiti is free,impresses the girls, is heroic in our coach potatoe culture, will provide you with a million stories to tell at parties, and a sure cure for the inner city blues. If it's not fun, you're doing it wrong or have been doing it too long. So get going, fame awaits the fly amongst you.
-Mark Surface

Lilium...

2007-01-10T09:11:00.000-07:00

"The mouth of the just shall meditate wisdom, and his tongue shall speak judgement." - Psalm 36:30

To anyone who has ever been alienated. To anyone who has ever been ostracized, dejected, or disappointed. To anyone who has ever had their trust broken, their heart broken, their promises broken. To anyone who has ever been left to pick up the shards of what's left. To anyone who has ever been truly alone. To anyone who has ever despaired to their breaking point. To the survivors...This is my acknowledgement.

I was told when I was growing up: "Be yourself." "You're an individual, and that is something to be proud of." "Everyone is different."
However, I've found over the years...that for those of us that are individuals, those of us who are 'different'...it causes nothing but problems. Be proud of yourself? Don't make me laugh...For years I strived to be my own person...to act how I wanted. Where did it get me? Nowhere. I was shunned, I was ignored. Once people got over the initial shock of my appearance and ideals...they labelled me as a miscreant, a problem-child. My opinions were nothing, intelligence was a foreign concept to me. Yet even before I began putting metal on my jackets, before I decided to make myself stick out...I was still being victimized. Only worse. As a kid, I had different ideas...ones that didn't go along with that of my peers. I wasn't a fan of Pinky & The Brain, I didn't like Power-Rangers...I didn't play Mario. I didn't get along with them...so I read. That's how it was. I had the occaisional acquaintance come over and play...but those times were few and far between. And so...for the first 12 years of my life, I had very little human connection. Unfortunately...Nowadays, I have an immense amount of human connection. I hate it. Too many people...and almost all of them are idiots. Driven by greed, lust, and one-upmanship...they comprise the fools that I am forced to call my peers. Still, constantly labelling eachother, snubbing those who don't "fit in". It's disgusting, and eventually it wears the nerves thin. It is at this point that I can say...I am sick of the world. There is no place for me that I can find...I suppose I'll just have to make one for myself.

As I walked home today, in the blizzard that is currently wracking my city...I was afforded 20 minutes. 20 minutes of tranquility, white noise, even whiter surroundings, and a beautiful sensation. Nothing but the wind blowing, the blinding snow, the bone-chilling temperature on my skin...I was given time to think. The one phrase that kept repeating itself in my head...made no sense to me. Now suddenly, I find it has meaning to it...
"Everyone is miserable in this place...they're all just looking for someone worse off than them."

(C) 2007 SEASE Productions. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. "Quam serena, quam benigma, quam amoena..."

Living The Low Life...

2007-01-08T22:01:00.000-07:00

And living up to it honestly.

In all projects: there is the vision and the details. If you have the vision and give attention to the details: that's a formula for success. It's simply a bit more than just giving a shit.

Ultimately we come to the computer to shake the edge off. Whether we're gliding through the internet or crafting the great twenty-first century novel, the medium of computer technology addresses many human wants.

For certain, enjoyment and diversion aren't solely derived from monitors, keypads and software. Spray cans got cool rhythm.

Triggered responses feel comfortable. Knowing what you get is what expectation is about. Subverting expectation is charismatic so long as the subversion isn't for the sake of itself.

But staying alive to survive and subvert for another day means to keep moving on.

And living is a good thing in a world where dead souls dance across digital jet streams. And I do mean that with the greatest respect and reverence.

Dante had not thought death had undone so many in his inferno. But Poe puts it in perspective, pushing to ride, boldly ride.

Death like honor demonstrates itself. And for that we are what we are.

Presidents, kings, demons alike. Waking up with the intestinal fortitude to make a cultural impact sometimes means one must negate the political. But it's all good.

And just as cleverness is serviceable for everything, and sufficient for nothing, all mediums become mimics of themselves, never ending time machines that serve to lurk and haunt. It's all about servicing the service industry.

We always read fortune cookies too late. That's what makes them beautiful. Fortune tellers tell tales twice told. Finding that out is the tricky part. I googled integrity and found the experience without much virtue. Honestly.

But, ah, to life and living. Especially when bad boys get good deserts.

Perhaps e.e. cummings says it best

How do you like your blueeyed boy Mister Death

(C) 2006. SEASE Productions/Buford Industries. (THIS IS COMEDY?!) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. KUFO: Keep Up or Fuck Off!

Life As Seen By Cynical...

2006-12-24T22:47:00.000-07:00

I found this in a person's profile...And I was so "moved" by it that I decided to write my own version.

As we grow up, we learn that even the one person that wasn't supposed to ever let you down probably will. You will have your heart broken probably more than once and it's harder every time. You'll break hearts too, so remember how it felt when yours was broken. You'll fight with your best friend. You'll blame a new love for things an old one did. You'll cry because time is passing too fast, and you'll eventually lose someone you love. So take too many pictures, laugh too much, and love like you've never been hurt because every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back. Don't be afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never begin.

As we grow up (Some of us faster than other...Hell, some never grow up), we learn that the one person that wasn't supposed to ever let you down, will always be the one to do it (unless you have a butler, then he did it). You will have your heart broken more than once...especially if you give it away easily. You'll break hearts too, but don't regret it too much...it's simply a waste of time. If you fight with your best friend, they weren't worth it after all...so take back all the crap you gave them. Don't worry if you blame a new love for things an old one did, chances are they're going to do it to you anyways. If you cry because time is passing too fast, drive faster...it makes things appear to slow down, and you always lose the person you love. Take a picture...it'll last longer than your memory, laugh...'cause someone's gotta see the humour in all of this, and love like you've...well...nevermind. Every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back...but just remember: There are 1440 minutes in a day...and the average person lives 12,000 days, so that's just one out of 17,280,000 and personally...I think I should be entitled to a minuscule amount. That having been said, don't be afraid that your life will end...be afraid that it will end at the hands of a chainsaw-wielding fiend wearing a mask of human skin...'cause that would kinda suck. Be careful what you wish for...

Oh yeah, Merry Christmas...*

© 2006 SEASE Productions. (*HAPPY CAPITALIST DAY!)All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

HAIL LORD ILPALAZZO!

2006-12-22T22:45:00.000-07:00

Lost Another...

2006-12-21T16:12:00.000-07:00

I didn't know you, but she loves you still.

REST IN PEACE
This is my tribute.

New-Age-Saviour

2006-12-19T23:05:00.000-07:00

Toys listen up! This is a joke. This is not a reality check. Read this on substance.

The ultimate one year meeting will be held in New York city to pay tribute for giving birth to the most misunderstood crime, to gather the most powerful minds in the Graffiti/HipHop culture, to talk about unity in graffiti, to find out ways to nourish the souls of the many who are salivating for a growth of a new branch off the HipHop tree. Unite through underground illegal meetings throughout the city, s all graffiti artists of the world get to collaborate and produce the finest graffiti art ever seen by man. To bring ourselves out of stagnation and figure out how to bring our art to the next level and stay true to the game. Elimination of negative ideas by reeducating writers who teach hate, racial segregation and self-ideologies to teach the importance of style and bringing up new generations with no rules but respect. To inter great many crazy graffiti ideas to create a new one. To travel with others throughout the United States to bomb and create large scale graffiti wildstyle burners to spread a new and much more conscious HipHop. To learn from the past and not to live in it and to create a new movement out of the old. 5 years is not far away. This gathering will be unwanted by city, county, state and government officials . This gathering is dangerous, enter NYC at your own risk. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of a few...Imagine...A graffiti world. In the next 20 to 30 years, the people who had fucked us up will have shrivelled up and died and the baby boomers generation (the rock and roll/hippie/yuppie/you name it) will be slotted into power and they think graffiti is cool? Graffiti art is going to explode big enough to outweigh everything you dreamed about and then some. The spray can represents a symbol of our generation. It's an icon. It is an awakening experience. It checks all other forms of HipHop. It is an art form with so much soul and integrity that it will cruch the art world into earlier retirement and that the art on the streets are the real life galleries. The art galleries with deep connections with the art mafia, have been slaving you for the past 50 years of your precious life finally gets to say you're the "flavour of the month" and have forgotten you with the next. Most are schools have a deep connection to this hideous idea for art, not entirely, but for many it has been a breeding ground to control art. Society wants to control the arts and graffitit is uncontrollable. Art creates a new level of intelligence and destroys and creates societies. Art is very, very powerful and art should be fore the masses and not the elitis. Half of the young graffiti writers live in their own local fantasy world they've created and do not have any interest in pushing the graffiti art movement except for pushing the local self. Not to disrespect and much props to the O.G.s, but many writers fell off in the past because there was nothing new coming in and they say they've grown up but in fact they have given up on the art. There's no such thing as giving up on graffiti, it's just that you are in a one of many transitional phases graffit writers go through because of pressures from the oppositions of the time (may it be from writers or society). Where are you motherfuckers, we the graffiti nation need you to represent the past and the future. Because all this is still very new and it is an art medium for life. So look for the reawakening of the most powerful art for in the world. We don't have to reach for a goal, because we are the goal and we are the movement! We are and have been a massive uncontrollable illegal frenzy that quenches the thrist of the artistic mind to veiwing the whole as a controlled movement. This is the alpha and the omega in chaotic theory. The drawings fromt he beginnings of man match the graffiti ideologies of the present day. We have come in a full circle in our world history of man. We have been in a situation where the blind (Society) has been leading the blind (Graffiti). We must break off from the art world and creat our own separate entity. So fuck this post-modernism bullshit fuckcrap! We don't ever cross over, they cross over to us! The graffiti writes are the urban shamans and the streets are our modern day caves...We will one day serve a vital purpose by exposing the masses of a coming of a new (art) revolution. The revolution starts in the new year and it will be on every surface except your television. The people of North-America are not happy. If this ultimate and unique meeting does not happen in the near future, graffiti art will get more exposed by the wrong intent and purpose and ultimately get sold out to the highest bidder. Don't be afraid of the old writers, meet and learn. Knowing that I'm going to do graffiti art for the rest of my life is the ultimate sacrifice in graffiti.

(C) SEASE Productions (Y2K-Stolen From A Blackbook) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

So Non-Conformist It's Emo...

2006-12-17T21:22:00.000-07:00

Everybody...Sit down.

So once again, I realise I'm trespassing. Only this time it's not illegal. I can't get fined or thrown in jail for it. No community service either, however...chances are good that I'll get a severe beat down for it. Funny, I used to get irked, if not entirely pissed off when friends of mine would start fawning over people I barely knew...Still do sometimes. Of course, this time...I've really gone and done. Only problem is that I'm not the one getting pissed off, I'm the thief. I beat up just about everyone of Courtney's boyfriends...partly because they were assholes, every single one of 'em, but mostly because I didn't know them, and wanted to make it crystal clear that they weren't to fuck around. Well this time, I'm the one guy who stole something from a group of people. And so, I know I shouldn't be butting in and expecting people to accept me. I'm not so conceited as to expect that. All I can really say is, Sorry. 'Cept you Ray...Don't threaten people you don't know.

© 2006 SEASE Productions. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

Cruel And Antithetic...

2006-12-13T21:33:00.000-07:00

"I have money...It's trust and character I need around me. Who you choose to hang around us...shows who you are. One car in exchange for knowing what a man's made of...That's a price I can live with. Look at all those people down there. They follow the rules for what? They're letting fear lead them. And if you don't...Life's simple. You make choices and don't look back."

Now this isn't a "Fuck The System" sort of post...I'm being a tad more thoughtful. Only problem is, I'm going to say the same thing that ya'll have heard a million and four times already. Why adhere to the same things as everyone else? We claim to be a country of open and equality minded individuals...but in reality, it's far from it. Equality is but a figment of our imaginations, created to gain support for "ethical" movements and religions, and give legitimacy to revolutions. But that's beside the point...

It's as I've always been told. Live life YOUR way, and you'll be happier for it. If you don't like the way things are handled or the way other people see things...then don't let them guide you. For example...I am bitter, bored, jaded, cynical and at times...misanthropic (or so I've been informed), and I see things respectively. I'm rude, boisterous, obnoxious, caustic and flat out mean in some instances...but guess what. That's who I am, and I love it...and I'm DEFINATELY not changing myself for anyone. So all this, and the quote above...is to say the same thing I've told you over and over again, because none of you are listening yet. You may think you are...That you're completely free, but I'm still not convinced. Even I'm not completely free.
Burn your candle at both ends and you're sure to get hurt. Time is at one end, and fear at the other. You have to eliminate one or the other...and good luck with that whole time-space continuum jazz...

(C) 2006. SEASE Productions. (What else can your magical powers do?) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

Animals Are Better Than You...

2006-12-07T19:16:00.000-07:00

This is the Cheetah. It can move at speeds of up to 75 Km/h. If a human raced a Cheetah, it would beat you...and then it would probably eat you. The Cheetah is better than you.

This is the Penguin. A Penguin will choose a partner and mate for life. You probably don't even have a girlfriend or a boyfriend. The Penguin is happier than you, and the Penguin is better than you.

This is the Salt-Water Crocodile. It...Well, it shits all over you.

This is a Polar Bear. It primarily eats seals. Can you eat a seal? The Polar Bear is better than you.

This is the Giant Tortoise. It has been known to live to up to 250 years old. It is older than you, and your Dad, and your Grand-Dad. The Tortoise is better than your whole family.

This is the Tapir. It is extremely ugly. It looks like the bastard child of a Pig and an Elephant, but it has the largest penis-to-body-size ratio of any animal. You have one of the smallest. The Tapir has a bigger doodle than you. It is better than you.

(C) 2006 SEASE Productions. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

Sweet Taboo.

2006-12-02T23:44:00.000-07:00

There's a quiet storm
And it never felt like this before
There's a quiet storm
I think it's you
There's a quiet storm
And I never felt this hot before
Giving me something that's taboo

You give me the (you give me, you give me the)
Sweetest taboo
That's why I'm in love with you (with you)
You give me, keep giving me the sweetest taboo
Too good for me

The world pays mad money to a watch a person get nervous on stage. Holding guitars and electric charges, a past filled with spray cans and crime, these are the confessions of a former graffiti writer.

The games alive. No doubt. Chrome and black attack, jump back. Life's remiss without cashing out some insecurities in your scribbles or your music. But I strive for greater things in my things.

I stretch my information and mash up miles of mishap. I'm hittin' hot spots with a hot hand, hot head and a hot heart. With a hot mouth I'm mouthin' off. There's high demand for heated myths and I'm hip to be hot in the holy market.

Hype that.

So we end this year with a sweet taboo. And send off with an exotic sonic reference to warm your heart.

You've got the biggest heart
Sometimes I think you're just too good for me
Every day is christmas, and every night is new year's Eve

Will you keep on loving me
Will you keep on, will you keep on
Bringing out the best in me

(C) 2006. Buford Industries - SEASE Productions. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

WE ARE FREE ARTISTS. OUTSIDE

2006-11-25T21:40:00.000-07:00

The graffiti terrorist alert is at an all time medium, it's locked in at color code primer gray. Where there is graffiti, there's little terror, but the terrible graffiti continues.

HERBERT once gave me an enigmatic insight into his world, saying: "While I was awake, I could see the fins scattered on the beach... Everytime that the sky goes dark, and the moon lights up the sand, I go into the sea and I know that in a short time I will disappear, and that what will be bored is a wish to be something that is not just flesh and bone... I don't swim, and the brief sensation that I am drowning comes every day for a few brief seconds, and then it goes away again, and suddenly it brings the wish to be something that has no blood or sweat."

(C) 2006. SEASE Productions. (Herbert Quote Stolen From Nicholas Ganz's Book "Graffiti-World") All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

While You Were Sleeping Part 2: Saturday Night

2006-11-19T20:34:00.000-07:00

Everybody Up!

Morality and legislation are mere shades of gray. Bribery is criminal but lobbying is artistic, scientific. In the future perhaps all scientists should carry guns. Why not?
I hear presumptuous kids today claiming, "I know what I like." That's cool but when I hear the above comment, I must counter, "No, you like what you know."

Creating scenery is not a simple task, requiring construction crews, Hollywood special effects, computer graphics, so on and so forth...Graffiti is symbolic in movies and television worldwide. If a producer or set director wants to create the illusion of a poorer, rougher neighbourhood...they'll throw a couple ill-warranted tags on a park bench, or a dumpster. Grittier settings will most often have marker scribbles of those of their aerosol counterparts...As seen here:
It's really a bothersome idea. That Graffiti signifies the dereclict. The decrepit decay of an urban habitat. When was the last time you saw a movie that this picture as the background?
I'd say...Never.

So here I am, bitching about the view that Graffiti has in the public eye...all the while doing nothing to help it. You know why? Because nothing I do will honestly make a difference...and that's fine.
We go out at night and do our stuff, run away...and come back in the morning to snap a couple photos...and then we go on. That's part of the reason why people hate Graffiti so much...because they don't know who's doing it. Saturday night, we roll in under the cover of shadows...we paint our piece, do our thing, then get out. Of course, most never see this. The see a wall one Saturday, go to bed. Sunday morning, they go out and see some strange, generally illegible THING spray painted without THEIR permission, on this wall that's been blank for as long as they can remember. It's like "How DARE They Do This!". They take personal offense, like we did it just to spite them. I'm sorry, and once again...I mean no offense. But I think I speak for most writers out there when I say...we don't care enough to do anything like that to spite you. We just do it 'cause we can.

Everyday is Saturday Night, but I can't wait for Sunday Morning...when people wake up and see what we did...While You Were Sleeping.

(C) 2006. SEASE Productions/Buford Industries. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

Ritual Massacre

2006-11-13T16:31:00.000-07:00

Everybody Up!
In response to my last post, KaesR (FTL) had an interesting point that I can tie into a belated post. So from my vanity I decided that my opinion will actually matter to all of you, therefore I have another little rant for ya'll.

Why do people kill people? There are myriad reasons, my friend. We all have our tendencies...Hell knows I have days where I'm micrometers away from curb-stomping people. But I don't do it. I know what it's like to feel rage, I know how it feels to want someone dead...Oh yes, I do. I know the heat of fights, the adrenaline rush that comes with it. I've experienced this enough that I can recall it incredibly well...but all it serves to do is deter me from committing any acts that might cause me trouble, even if I don't regret them. (On a random note so as to kill the seriousness, my dog just got her head stuck in the trashcan...Dopely...) If I ever do get into a fight...or if I do assault someone, I have to be sure that A) it's worth it, and that B) they deserve the world of hurt I'm about to bring to their table. If it's not worth the trouble I'll inevitably get into over the whole conflict...then what's the point of doing it? And if some 12 year old kid steps to me and decides that he's got the balls and biceps to take me on, I'm gonna laugh in his face and tell him to run home...because there are very few people I know who could take on a guy like me at the age of 12. Shit, I probably wouldn't have been able to manage that. More importantly, there's barely anything that would make me bend my rules enough to beat down a 12 year old kid...It's just not right.

So now that I've finished my pathetic rant about fights...Let me just say this. Humans kill eachother...We always have and we always will. From jealousy to political reasons to psychosis...there's always going to be a reason. What's yours? Next time you tell someone "I'm gonna kill him/her...", catch yourself...ask yourself "If I did actually kill them, would it be worth it? Would I regret it? Would it be right?". Chances are you'll say yes, and so be it. Just an idea.

Also, if someone ever tries acting tough shit and rugged to intimidate you...('Specially you KaesR!)just look at 'em and say "You ain't a gangsta...You ain't even friends with one!" Laugh at the expression on their face, then run like the maniac you are...'cause chances are they'll be pissed once it sinks in.

(C) 2006. SEASE Productions. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

Chocolate is not a substitute for Love. Love is a substitute for chocolate. Because we all know, chocolate is much better than any man will ever be. (OUCH, I'm really hurt Jessie...Right to the core.)

Suburban Decay

2006-11-07T20:40:00.000-07:00

Everybody Up!

It is at this point that I have decided that Canada really isn't all it's cracked up to be. I recall at a young age, circa 3rd grade, that I was introduced to the way the laws worked. There was a presentation at my school about the then new "Youth Justice Act" which was created so that young offenders were not to face "unfair" punishment. Under this law, any person under the age of 11 can not be charged for any criminal act they commit, no matter the charge. This seemed suitable to me, after all...what child under this age would knowingly commit any crime worthy of a serious sentence? That is...it seemed suitable until lately. In my cynicism and conceit, I assumed that I'd seen it all. I've seen some incredibly disturbing things in my experiences...it's amazingly rare for me to be surprised by anything in the news. But something in the news lately had me stunned.

There was a case in Manitoba, here in Canada, in which a handful of young boys...aged 7 to 10, wheeled a handicapped boy into a wooden shed and locked him in. They then proceeded to set the shed on fire, in hopes that the wheelchair-bound boy would not escape. Luckily, a man nearby found the shed on fire and rescued the boy without any harm done. The boys were found soon after and due to the "Youth Justice Act", the most they got for it was a "Good Talking To"...

Well...Less than two weeks later another arson case went up in the same area. It was discovered that the arsonist was none other than one of the boys involved in the shed incident! WHAT THE HELL?! Well, we can be sure he got another "Good Talking To"...

I'm not even going to pretend I know what the answer is to this...but I know that we can first start by renaming the "Youth Justice Act" to the "Youth Legal Act", seeing as there's no Justice involved in it. I don't know where I'm taking this, but it was something that really got under my skin. I want to know what you think...My personal opinion is that it's bullshit that the government feels that it's fine to send police officers to chase me down for painting trains, yet we can't charge a child arsonist due to the simple fact that he's 9 years old. I'll never understand the way the beauraucracy thinks...

Acceptance of Graffiti is living in the trivial; an empty gesture; the dead commodity; an insipid cause. You can't win except through ignorance.

(C) 2006. SEASE Productions. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

Mad Fits Of Lust (Byline)

2006-11-01T18:29:00.000-07:00

Innocence aside, this is no attempt to render graffiti as some sort of romance novel. Not when there are less pressing matters to pretend to care about.

November's air turns chill and time's at hand to elect the next select set of negligent gents. If any lesson can be learned from American style democracy, it's that your vote doesn't count.

Recent history has proven that those who cast votes decide nothing. Those who count the votes decide everything. If voting changed anything it would be illegal.

Self determination dictates who eats whom. The foibles of democracy splash across global media. There's no need to import it by might or right.

Political parties market malfeasance, the music industry sells sickness. The machine keeps moving and there is no time to change the temperature only time to establish your own meter.

You must make your own machine or at least understand that you are your own machine. Madness and medicine mix in individual measures. Prescribed dosages are only effective originating from your own pen.

Cultural democracy is as boring as a publicly funded mural or legal wall. Negative space creates positive composition. When designing your own dungeon, you want it to all flow together. It's tough to describe but easy to see. Majority rule isn't necessary. The mindset of your own minority is the only one that matters.

Living in a world of isms creates false ideals. Truth and understanding become their own bureaucracies. It's easy to see the bullshit when you realize it's all bullshit. It's a wise person who notes, it is what it is.

Angst and organic overload provide a celebration of the velocity of thought. Mad fits of love turn into a lasting lust. There's nothing democratic about it.

(C) 2006. Buford Industries/SEASE Production. (Thanks Stockcap!) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

I Never Sold Out. I Sold Myself In...

2006-10-30T18:52:00.000-07:00

Everybody Up!

The Harlot's web has never been thicker. Unfortunately for him, the Beast doesn't even realise he's being played. Ah well, such is the course of things. We follow, mesmerised by falling stars...Yet we're surprised when the blinding flash of impact burns us. But I swear...upon a lexicon of scars...that I will never again be trapped in such a situation. Because sweetest revenge never comes true, but we all want to try new things. I found it funny when I found this photograph. Where is the spite? The narrowed eyes? In all honesty, it was a false image of beauty in black and white. Anywhere else, I wouldn't have recognised it for anything more than another one with concentrated brightness. The smile isn't like mine, though it has changed many times over the years. No quirky configurations or twitchy corners. Was this before she died...from making the best of it?

At this point, the strings melt together to create chords that ring like no other. Gentle vibrations are picked up and slung into the open air. The crisp coolness of it reverberates through the cavity, ripples begin to form with fluidity. History intact in form of Polaroids. Very few have notes scribbled down. At the time, it seemed pointless to explain the setting...the emotion supposedly conveyed was going to tell all that needed telling. Or so they thought. Pictures and memories are all that's left...and those are few and far between. Most often pushed into corners of the room and mind.

As if to supply the irony that the world feeds on, some proof of life...nothing survives. Anger like amber turned fossil...Golden and perfectly preserved, yet slipped away ontop of some shelf as if to be displayed for the passerby. It makes quite the conversation piece. Perhaps it's the way it tosses the light. Were we ever, truthfully alive? It felt like it, but perhaps it was nothing but elation for revived emotion. I'll never be able to tell you for sure.

It's so cold...inside the surgeon's house tonight. It's enjoyable, yet I can't help but wonder. Haven't we got someplace else to be? I take a look around and I realise that I'm essentially stuck where I am now. Never have I felt so well policed. Why should I be anything but pleased...Sit Down.

Call it love with a new face. I don't care what you do...You can name it Joey for all I care. Because we're all headed West, whatever we think we believe. And now the best I can be is the peace that I don't want to see. But it's not that I have much of a choice in the matter. Civility is a curse...I'm considering forgetting all about it. Call it the Election-Night Special.

Just remember. The hardest part about opening up to someone is putting so much power in their hands...Chances are they'll use it against you someday.

(C) 2006. SEASE Productions. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

Yesterday...

2006-10-19T22:11:00.000-06:00

All my troubles seemed so far away...Hah. I wish.

Funny how it all works. You see guys walking around wearing shirts that read "Get Rich Or Die Tryin'!"...Yet I almost guarantee you that 95% of them would beg for their life if you held a knife to their throats. Why should I be anything but pleased? Sit down. It's not as if I plan to try it. No need to get worked up! Put the phone down...911 would not be pleased to hear that you're calling to report a blog rant that was misconceived as a threat, okay?

Then we have the majority of people who simply ignore it because they are afraid. They don't like to face the facts, so they don't think about it. So when something happens to a person they know...especially a loved one, they're absolutely stricken with grief. It consumes them, and for a while they grieve. With the passing of time, of course, things get better and life goes on.

On the flip side of that, there are those who view it as peaceful. They don't dwell on it, but when it eventually becomes their reality...it's not a struggle. They appreciate it for what it is, and therefore have no problems.

Still others of us are all to familiar with it. We barely let it affect us, and have problems reconciling that. People expect us to be overwhelmed with grief or overly emotional...yet we do the opposite. We push through, fighting our consciences the whole way. Bland faces and blank expressions is the closest we get to showing things of such matters. Often plagued by nightmares and haunting visions, we don't always get much sleep. No, we're not going gothic, so you religious assholes can shut your traps. What? Emo?! Don't make me laugh...I wear black because it appeals to me. Not because it matches my tight-knit purple and black striped sweater.

So what if my girlfriend wears dark makeup sometimes and wears sunglasses in school? What does her being Wiccan have to do with it? You're saying that she's heartless and crazy? Well...she might be crazy, but those sunglasses are to keep her from getting headaches from your god damned fluorescent lights...not because she has freaky contacts or something. (Even if she'd look hott with red eyes...)

Okay, so we all handle it differently. Don't like it? I see. Well I'm sorry to hear that. We're not all perfectly innocent, sheltered and protected little angels, so we're allowed to vary our ideals. That's my opinion and it's very, very true.

What do you mean you think I'm conceited? Oh? I guess I'm the asshole here. Last time I checked, it was a free country...so unless Canada has recently released some unknown Patriot Act, you can suck it up.

Which kind are you? Which kind should you be? NO! I AM NOT CORRUPTING THE YOUTH!! Arrrrrgggggghhhhhh...Go away!

That's right...RUN!

Thank you.

(C) 2006. SEASE Productions. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

Happy Canadian Thanksgiving!

2006-10-09T21:52:00.000-06:00

To all my readers...the few I have left...Thank you for sticking with me. I know it's bland...but I'm trying to churn things out as best as I can. Mr. Maroney isn't around to inspire me...he ditched us and scampered off to W.P. Wagner. Jerk...

But a happy Canadian Thanksgiving to all! (Even you, Maroney...)

(C) 2006. SEASE Productions. (What are you thankful for?) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

Famous Monsters Part 7: Revenge Of The Creature

2006-10-01T21:56:00.000-06:00

Innocence is a condition which only exists in retrospect. It can't be appreciated, confirmed or committed to while one is in its state. The state's got it right -- one can only be guilty or not guilty. No one is innocent, at least when the time comes to go on record.

The coating of innocence sheds like so many pleas tape recorded and rendered under the fingers of court stenographers. Indeed, all innocence is limited. Kids get no passes. Tragedies affect and leave their effects. And kid, there just ain't no pass.

Creatures crawl forth babbling doctrines of terror and horror supposing they are less than guilty. Victims vilify themselves as soon as their victory is viewed as vengeance. But when you create a creature you have to feed it or run the risk of it eating you.

Trying to keep from being imprisoned by our creatures and inventions is hazardous duty. They become our definitions. The world only sees the baggage behind us -- creatures, inventions, addictions, police records. There is no greater curse than never being able to be who we are.

So we battle the creatures and fight from being eaten. Some of us don't make it past the first round -- others move on to exhibit scars and patch up wounds. The wounds are our uniqueness and our spirit finds an opening in the brokenness.

Conflict is the sound of life happening. These battles must go on. Action has to take place. Eventually the universe gives up on people who don't take action. It stops sending you its gifts.

You can't have full-time goals and take part-time actions. Otherwise, your creature will just fester in a dark place and become a dream that won't go away. The world may wish to deny your creature but the universe refuses to let it go.

At some point we awaken and realize all that we can be and all that is holding us down and perhaps at that point we come to recognize the beauty of innocence.

(C) 2006 Buford Industries/SEASE Productions. (Thanks StockCap!) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

Tuning/Cello 4th String. Johann-Sebastien Bach: Suiten Fur Violoncello. Solo Nr. 1 (G-Dur BWV 1007) 1. Vorspier. "Death & ReBirth" Chapter 3: Overture. SEELE 2 (Sound Only) Sie Hast Nicht Gehirn...Or so they say.

Jump Around!

2006-09-11T22:32:00.000-06:00

Everybody Up!

Excuse me for double-posting, but this just couldn't wait. I saw this...and I nearly puked. It was posted on a forum:

absolutely love paris hilton, i HATE all the ppl out there that mock her and put shit on her, what has she done to deserve that???

I LOVE HER and her life is awsome i wish i was living it. I also love the way she dresses so i pretty much stole her style. I always defend her when ppl i know or see put shit on her.

It doesnt matter what she does for the rest of her life i will always love her and trust me i will b the first lining up to pick up my copy of her CD “Paris” does anybody know when shes gonna autograph copies of her album???

Mwah Mwah

Amanda
That was an honest to God post...Sickening, no?

Well Amanda...I hate to break it to you, but...

Banksy has done it again my friends. For those of you who haven't heard: In August/September 2006, Banksy replaced up to 500 copies of Paris Hilton's debut album, Paris, in 48 different UK record stores with his own cover art and remixes by Danger Mouse. Music tracks were given titles such as "Why am I Famous?", "What Have I Done?" and "What Am I For?". The cover art depicted Paris Hilton digitally altered to appear topless. Other pictures feature her with a dog's head replacing her own, and one of her stepping out of a luxury car, edited to include a group of homeless people, which included the caption 90% of success is just showing up.

HOW AMAZING IS THAT?! Banksy is Godlike! Paris and her little prissy following (i.e. Amanda) just got OWNED! The latest incident in which Banksy's mischief is causing concern is as follows: In September 2006, Banksy dressed an inflatable doll in the manner of a Guantanamo Bay detainment camp prisoner (orange jumpsuit, black hood, and handcuffs) and then placed the figure within the Big Thunder Mountain Railroad ride at Disneyland theme park in Anaheim.

I've said it once and I'll say it again. America, don't fear a future with chemically enhanced baseball players...It's the Graffiti writers you need to worry about.

(C) 2006 SEASE Productions. (Thanks Banksy!) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. Banksy is due to hold an exhibition called Barely Legal, which is billed as a "three day vandalised warehouse extravaganza" in Los Angeles on the weekend of 16 September 2006. Thought I'd let ya'll know.

Flatliners (You See That Flick?)

2006-09-11T19:06:00.000-06:00

I WANT YOU, JACK LAYTON, TO SMARTEN UP!

Everybody Up!

Guess what day it is? That's right! The time has come again...It's the 5th year anniversary of 9/11. "The day the world stopped turning", the entire cause of our constant fear of car-bombs, airplanes and suicide-bombing maniacs...or so it seems.

Ergo, it only seems fitting that I should have a rant prepared for you, my ever-dwindling readers. However, this time around...my foreign audience is going to have a harder time relating, my apologies. It's also fitting, because the distant cause of the whole incident that this rant is based around, is Sept. 11th, 2001. This one goes out to Jack Layton.

Now Mr. Layton is the leader of a Canadian Political party who call themselves the N.D.P...or New Democratic Party. It's kind of funny though, because Jack seems to have taken the term "Party" a bit too literally. Last time we had a Federal Election, the NDP was having celebrations and, well...Parties. I recall seeing Mr. Layton and his running Deputy Prime-Minister on a stage, under yellow and green lights, doing Karaoke...during a party-gathering. Now maybe I'm being too serious, but I don't particularly want MY country to be run by anyone who sings as terribly as Jack Layton. Reason #3,084,296.073- Every province that they NDP has won and put a Premier into, has gone BANKRUPT! Look at "Beautiful British Columbia"! The NDP ran it dry! It's taken years for BC to get back on track, lucky for them...they have all sorts of things to fall back onto for economic issues.

Sorry...I got a bit side-tracked there. This isn't to diss the NDP...Well, not directly anyways. No, I'm here to rant my extreme anger with Jack friggin' Layton, over a comment he made the other day. I'll spare you having to decipher the Political Mumbo-Jumbo...Essentially, Jack and his crew have decided that Canada should not be in Afghanistan. The casualties are beginning to rise, and the pseudo-Humanist Layton decides that we should pull out now. Well I'm sorry. I may be a 16 year old, self-proclaimed Know-it-all...and having been born and raised in a Military family (Hell, my father was doing his second peace-keeping tour in Cyprus when I was BORN!), I know that that is simply not an option. For all you peacemongers out there, I don't want to hear it. YES, soldiers losing their lives is tragic...My Father is a soldier. I grieve every soldier who is wounded, even moreso killed. But soldiers know the risks when they sign up, they train for it every day. That's what being a soldier means.

Also, the media doesn't help at all. The media likes to focus on the negative. Always has, always will. They report every Canadian death, all the while saying that things will only get worse. That the insurgency is becoming more and more aggressive everyday. What they don't report...is that 85% of Afghanistan is back under control. The Canadian base is in the 15% that is still controlled by bandits...no wonder we're facing heavy resistance. The insurgents can't go back to the other areas, so they're trapped in this pocket in the desert...it's essentially their last stand. We're winning. But the media doesn't want to show that...'cause it won't sell papers as much as the grief-soaked tabloids that have pictures of crying wives and mothers smeared overtop of caskets covered in Canadian flags...
And so, Jack Layton decides that we should pull out of Afghanistan. Whether he honestly thinks that, or if it's to try and appeal to all the uninformed people who think that they're knowledge of deaths in the Middle-East is good enough to ruin Military tactics and decisions that have helped rebuild a country.
We can't just pull out now. If we did, the insurgents would take over again...Think about it, if the Allies had've stopped fighting in WWII because the casualties (great band, by the way...) were getting too great, where would the world be? Hitler would've taken over and we'd all be royally screwed by a dude with a funny moustache.
(THIS MACHINE KILLS FASCISTS!)

Now, before I end up ranting on and on without end, I'll finish this up.
Jack, we can't just pick up and leave...So shut up. I say we send you and your Democratic Minions over to Afghanistan for a few months like they did for my Father, and when you shoot yourself in the foot just so you can go home and join the casualty list, we'll all point and laugh at you and replay footage of your terrible singing for the country all over again.

(C) 2006 SEASE Productions. (Shut Up, you NDPussies) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

Up In Arms: The "Domino" Effect

2006-09-01T19:46:00.000-06:00

Everybody Up!

What confuses you? Do I? I hope so. The fuzzier the lines get, the harder you have to concentrate. The harder you concentrate, the more atuned your mind is and therefore you can think better.

This is where the lines get blurred so much you'll need glasses, not that I have any at the moment. It's funny though, I realise I don't need them I can see everything I need to. Nobody needs visual-aids to recognise beauty and the beasts. Doesn't matter how hard you try, you'll always be the last won. (Pun Intended) I could see how far I can lift this but, what's going to make this rant any different from the last one? What separates me from the next "Blogger"? I'd tell you, but it ain't one to tell. Uptown Business continues as always. Order is often overrated. Graffiti writers are bent on making a message for the ages, or at least a mess for the ages. Either way, I'll made a mark.

But what good does that do anybody? Does it do me good because I'll feel accomplished? It won't get me where I want. Oh...Wait, what do I want again? I'm stuck between a rock, an emotion, and a memory. That okay though, I'd take a trap over a non-existant path anyday and I'll bite the hand that feeds if it fucking tastes better. Fate is faded, but that's okay because the lines will never become crystal clear at the rate we're going. Think about it. They always say: "You're only a teenager once"...but what exactly is a teenager? Is it a rebellious, angst-ridden kid who never listens to his parents? Is it a person who's learning to handle responsibilities? Is it a guy who's just enjoying his life "90210" style? What the hell are we "Adolenscents" supposed to strive to be? Television seems to glorify all of the above, but which one do we have to choose? That's the mentality that kills us all. Fuck choosing. I got more important things to do than dwell on a decision, but I always come back to the same spot...The choice. I've lived multiple lives...but it appears I'm only allowed to live one of them. I don't feel like doing anything, even when I know that in my heart of hearts I want to pound that motherfucker's face into the pavement. All I want to do is go to school, enjoy my time with friends, but no...This guy has to get in my face. That's what I hate the most. Not that he wants to fight me, but that I want to fight him. I want to revert to the violence. A lifestyle like that is not only dangerous, but it's addictive. Easy to fall into, but hard to forget. But I am no longer a part of that world, I'm simply a teenager...am I not? Who you are today may not be who you will be tomorrow. While some maintain a longing for the past, nostalgia for the sake of itself is betrayal of the future. No? We can't live two lives at once, so we try to indulge ourselves in activities that remind us of such things, but don't suck us in...even as they take over your life. Trying to stay in orbit around supercharged engines, old blackbooks and cold bottles of lager is like trying to hum a tune with a mouthful of marbles. I'll keep investigating the ulterior motives, but I've given up hope...I simple can't be bothered. It'll never dissipate, hard as I try to air it out. The stench of blood will never leave the premises. Scrub as hard as you like, the spots won't disappear. The faint whisper of a battle-cry will always ring in one ear....Right for spite. Urban violence isn't the best of passtimes, but you can make a killing off of the stories. There's just too much cool still left to go around, lots of bodies that need to be buried and too much emotion that still needs to be bottled up.

If you're wondering what's true and what isn't you can fuck off because it's none of your god-damn business. I can't tell you what it all meant. All that matters is that I feel accomplished, and my insides no longer churn from my brain wracking itself senseless. I said it, and if you ever realise what I mean...You'll know that there is only one conclusion to every story: We all fall down. Thank you Miss Harvey.

(C) 2006 SEASE Productions. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. Thank you to those that have helped me create this post, gave me the thoughts contained herein, or wrote the words to express them. If I borrowed your words, they're still yours and thank you again. You know who you are.

Please Excuse Me...

2006-08-28T00:40:00.000-06:00

Everybody Up!

Here I am again...Trespassing. What, you may ask, am I committing such a crime upon? Your mind.

"They say graffiti frightens people and is symbolic of the decline in society, but graffiti is only dangerous in the minds of three types of people: Politicians, Advertising Executives, and Graffiti Writers."

Too true...Politicians expect their ratings to improve when the speak of smashing the vandals that roam their countries, counties and cities. Advertising Executives dislike graffiti because it often covers up the product that they worked oh so hard to produce and get known. And graffiti writers...Well, I don't think I need to say much about that. But really, what is the difference between graffiti and advertising? Aside from the amount of money that gets put into them...almost nothing. So then why is it that Wal-Mart throws a fit when someone puts a few letters on the side of their building without their permission, but they jump at the chance to put up a new billboard or TV Commercial? Their advertisements allow them to get noticed. My advertisements allow me to get noticed.

Personally. Graffiti is a way for me to strike back at the massive amounts of advertisement that is shoved my way every day. Thousands of advertisements are plastered on the sides of buses...So then why is it that I'm not allowed to paint my name on the side of a freight train? They never asked my permission, so don't even bother starting to ask theirs. I never had a say in where their ads were placed...so I'm not going to give anyone a say in where I place mine.

(C) 2006 SEASE Productions. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. (Thanks Banksy!) |V|A|N|D|A|L|I|S|M| - My Anti-Drug!

Eminent Domain - Smashing Glass Houses.

2006-08-27T22:56:00.000-06:00

Everybody Up!

The Act and the Aftermath...

The Act. Before you even notice, it's already over. Sessions feel like they drag on for ages, but the truth of the matter is that it only takes a few minutes. Not only that, but to be honest...it's nothing. In a sea of concrete and steel, the Act disappears. Cars drown out the click of the mix, and the hiss of the application is lost amongst the sounds of feet crunching on gravel. It's almost as though it simply appears...No traces, no witnesses, just stealthy silence.

The Aftermath. This is where the trip takes a sharp turn turn in the opposite direction. The Aftermath causes quite a commotion. Emotions, Words, Sights...the list goes on and on. Store Managers get angry because security isn't tight enough. Labourers complain because they're forced to stand in the hot sun on a ladder with a bucket of grey to splatter on the wall in front of them. Customers are faced with the eyesore of an ugly square of mis-matched paint. Last, but not least, the ghostwriter is forced to admit defeat once again as the piece is effectively destroyed just like it's predecessor.

Such is the life of a "Throwie". Whether it burns or not is irrelevant...It will eventually get buffed like the rest. And so, I will continue to create more. SEASE: Coming to a wall near you. Bless and Destroy Private and Public Property. I just can't resist blank walls.

(C) 2006 SEASE Productions. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.
|V|A|N|D|A|L|I|S|M| - My Anti-Drug...

Bless + Destroy

2006-08-13T01:36:00.000-06:00

Everybody Up!

Perhaps I wrote my rant about how much I hate flying a tad too soon...Now I'd have a LOT more to complain about. Damn.

A friend and I were discussing the recent bomb plot that was stopped just days before execution in Heathrowe Airport, London. The whole thing stinks. I'm no conspiracy theory lover, and I'm not trying to insinuate that it has a bigger purpose or that there were any government backings...but think about it. It is rather timely. Bush's rating polls have dropped like a brick from the CN Tower (or the Empire State Building for my non-cultured American readers), so he needs to garner more support for himself and his groupies. Yes, he cannot be re-elected. Yes, they are trying to get brotha Jeb to run. And yes, even if Jeb doesn't run...it's still best for Bush to try and gain support for his party. I'm no Political scientist, but I did take 6th Grade Civics. (What's the President's Cabinet?) Even if a member of his family doesn't run, the Republican party will most likely follow the same platform basis. And therefore, the "Global War On Terror" will almost assuredly be on the slate. The sudden arrests of alleged terrorists that planned to execute a plot that "would rival that of Sept. 11th in destruction and chaos" (as the local newspaper put it) at the very last minute looks great. Not only that, but it scares the public shitless. Now people are freaking out like chickens with their heads cut off. Everybody is afraid for their lives...which makes Mr. George "The Protector" Bush appealing once again because he's a leader that is willing to take on the very thing that scares them the most. Terrorism. In fact, even here in Canada I've overheard a man saying something along the lines of "It's a good thing Bush has all his assets focusing on stopping these freaks. Otherwise we might all be dead!" It made me want to puke, then punch the aforementioned idiot.
On top of all this, a lot of people...Americans in particular...have been getting all nostalgic and therefore sentimental with this bloody "World Trade Center" movie. Not only can the not spell Centre correctly, but we DON'T NEED TO SEE A GOD-DAMN MOVIE ABOUT IT! We all lived through it AND the aftermath ONCE, we don't need a tearjerker rescue flick about it...even if it has Nick Cage in it.
So...after forming, then ranting about this idea, we got onto the topic of "Freedom". Because of all this paranoia, people are no longer allowed to take liquids, gels or things of the like onto flights. In fact, all flights arriving at and departing London-Heathrowe aren't allowed to have carry-on luggage. You're not even allowed a book. All you can have is your passports and boarding passes...in a clear-plastic bag. It's ridiculous. The idea is to treat all people flying as if they're criminals. It's like strip-searching a person who wants to visit someone who's out on bail...It's bloody ridiculous. I know the idea is to screen 100% of people so as to catch any would-be terrorists...But think about it. That's just for airplanes. The only reason it's like that is because the Sept. 11th involved airplanes. But look, people freaked out after the London Underground bombing, but there's absolutely NO security on subway systems. Hell, half the time I ride the local subway system I don't even buy a ticket. That's how lax the security is for things like that. Do we screen every single automobile parked on the street after a car-bomb goes off in Iraq? No. Do we put up metal detectors inside buses to make sure that there are no more London Bus-type bombings? No. Do we wave everyone down with magnetic wands when they enter the mail-office to prevent anymore mail-office hostage situations? No! There are inumerable ways to enact terrorist plots...but do we make it harder for people to do things like that? No. You know why? Because if we did, it would "restrict the God-given freedoms that people in North America enjoy". Oh really...Well what about the lady in the airport that nearly made me take off my pants because the little gromets that attach the corners of the pockets were making her magnetic-wand beep even after I'd emptied everything in my pocket? What about the guy who patted me down (or felt me up...depends on how you want to see it...)because he didn't believe me when I said I didn't have anything else in my pockets? Is that not restricting my freedoms? For example...Freedom from having a grossly overweight man in his late 40's grope my legs and feel up my crotch...which is nowhere NEAR my pockets.
If we employed the same measures on other methods of transportation and things of the like...it would essentially be a state of martial law. Which goes against the idea of Democracy, of Freedom. Well, my friend told me something today. He grew up with his father in Chicago. He also told me that his father is cheaper than a free airline ticket (pardon the pun), and therefore...they lived in the slums. He motioned to the world around us and said to me: "This...this is not freedom. This is an illusion, a capitalist utopia that is furnished to keep people buying and selling so that they are entertained. This is not freedom. You want to know where I saw real freedom? The Ghetto. In the slums of Chicago, especially the latino section...it's what a lot of people would call Hell. Poor, Run-down, Grimy...and because of that, people are aggressive. Therefore, you could do whatever you want...and nobody would care. It was every man for himself. You could shoot, you could kill someone, you could burn a car...Hell, you could stack tires 7 feet in the air and burn them until they were 4 inches off the fuckin' ground, and nobody would do a fuckin' thing. That, my friend, is true freedom. I guess what some people would call Anarchy. It's not pleasant...no, it's nothing admirable...but it's honest-to-God freedom. No illusion."
If you think that my friend is lying. If you think that he's just trying to play a Gangsta...you're wrong. He may not be black. He may not have been shot 9 times. He may not have come from the bottom of bottoms to the top of the pops. But he's been there. He's seen it. You'd best believe it.

This goes along with my rant about peace. Nobody will really understand it in it's entirety, except me and Chris (AKA DJ Dice)...because we were there talking about it. I just want people to think outside the octagon. (ToTO) Now, it's rather late. I think I'll catch up on some well-deserved sleep.

(C) 2006 Sean Slater. (Thanks Chris!) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. SEASE Productions. Just remember...Nothing is permanent. Not even KRink...

Ultima Ratio: Serenity's Cast

2006-08-04T21:16:00.000-06:00

Have you ever thought about exactly what it is we're supposed to be upholding? It's been 60 years since the last war, and all of us have been able to live our lives without being touched by war. Peace. This peace that we're supposed to be upholding, what do we actually mean by peace in this age, and in this society? The total war we fought, and the losses that we all suffered at it's hands. The Cold War, involving nuclear deterrence and proxy wars around the globe. Even today, half the world is engaged in civil war, ethnic clashes, armed conflicts. These countless wars are what made up and sustained our economic prosperity...it's bloodstained. That's the true nature of our peace. It's an unscrupulous peace based on fear of war. An unjust peace where we look away from foreign wars, in which others pay the price for our peace. I can hear them now. They say: "It may be a peace that reeks of gunpowder, but we must still uphold it." They'd much rather settle for an unjust peace than a just war. I can understand that they would loathe just wars. Proponents of just wars have mostly been just scoundrels. History is filled to the brim with people who were taken in by them, and then taken advantage of. But we also know this: The line that separates a just war from an unjust peace isn't a very clear one. Ever since hypocrites have made peace their just cause, we have lost faith in that peace. Just as war brings about peace...peace brings about war. A peace that is empty and lacks substance, will eventually be filled in by a actual state of war. Has that thought ever crossed your mind? We reap the benefits of war, but distance ourselves from it with a television screen...forgetting that we're still in the same battleground. No...we only pretend to forget. Such denial, invites great punishment in the end. I hear them again, they ask: "What punishment? Who's going to punish us? God?"
In this society, everyone is like a God. You don't have to move an inch to see images far removed, or to touch things that aren't there, and access other realities that are there. It's just that these Gods don't do anything. If the "Gods" won't do it, then the people will. Sooner or later we'll find out, that is...If we can't catch up to him in time.

(C) 2006 Sean Slater. (Arigatou Goziemashita Oshii-Sama.) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. Patlabor 2 - SEASE Productions. (With help from Production I.G.)

Beauty In The Breakdown...

2006-08-04T14:37:00.000-06:00

Everybody Up!

Here are some more ideas to knock off.
It seems the older I get, the less and less I enjoy flying. Not to sound like my father but it's true. When I was little, we'd fly out to visit my relatives on the coast...and I'd be so excited. I was thrilled by the smell of airports, the bustling masses of people, the weight of gravity and acceleration crushing my torso into the seat. I was one hell of a strange child...

Now I can't stand any of it. I'm not gregarious like that. The smell wrenches my gut, and if I want to feel acceleration...I'll grab the car floor the gas pedal, and shift at the 8000 RPM Redline...not the same, but it feels nicer.

Personally, I'd much rather drive anywhere than fly. Flying is definately quicker, and by the numbers, driving is more dangerous, but at least with driving you have the capability to stop when and wherever you so please. You're in control. Flying is unreliable, and a pain in the ass. Planes have a time and place...but still. Just my opinion. Tell me what you think. I'm curious. Leave a comment!

Also, thank yous go out to all the wonderful people in Virginia that made my trip so amazing. Love you all!

(C) 2006 Sean Slater (Screw United Airlines and Canadair!) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

How To Handle A Heat Wave:

2006-08-04T14:35:00.000-06:00

At a bare minimum make it look good.

Then step around the decoration and look for the substance.

Fifteen minutes of a drug is fifteen minutes too long or too short. And fame finds its way through twenty-first century clutter.

We make it past the mid mark mildly. Only so many shopping seasons left and so little time. Shoplifters long for lost love.

I loot local libraries looking for the goods. Non-fiction masquerades as fiction, novels lie about their novelty.

I spot some inspiration, search for my notebook and secure sentences with blue ink dispensed from a medium point pen.

Neither good nor bad, neither a scoundrel nor an honest man, neither a hero nor an insect. I make a note to myself from the underground.

But life isn't simply the choice of choosing between being a hero or an insect. At least not all the time.

In a world where one must invent a life in order to live, I keep my dreams delusional, my senses surreal and my social life sensational.

Some lessons are obvious. Some less so. But life experience is a matter of fleshing out the insides.

To two-step between public good and private greed involves too much dexterity. Egos are built to win. To each his own outline.

Handling heat waves is hot occupation. I hock my goods and hawk my commerce like my art depended on it.

And so it does. In grand graffiti daydreams, I gravitate toward dope droppings and deal in day to day outtakes. But I'm making headway. So there.

(C) 2006 Buford Youthward. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

Welcome To The Inferno...

2006-07-18T22:15:00.000-06:00

Everybody Up!

Once again, this rant has to do with Culture and Religion. Please bear in mind that I do not mean to insult any culture or religion and if what I say goes against your personal opinion please take it on the chin...not personally. I do not represent any faction or religion (Aside from Anti-Verticalism...which is a long story), and therefore cannot choose one over another. This is simply meant as a critical look at some major parties.

Now, with that disclaimer posted...let's move on, shall we?

With the festering wound between Israel and the rest of the Middle-East having been reopened as it has...I've put a bit of thought into how things appear to be for many of us here in my hometown. For as long as I can remember, it has always been little Israel being picked on by the other Middle-Easter countries...And now suddenly, Israel goes to war over one man being kidnapped. Losing one man is losing two men too many...However, is all this war and destruction honestly worth it? In the Coalition operations in Afghanistan and Iraq, some Allied acquaintances (mostly reporters) have been kidnapped...did we go and begin bombing spots over it? No. We attempted to negotiate first, and foremost. It appears that the mentality in the Middle-East is one of "We would rather have nothing than have compromise...Our way...No highway option." It simply causes needless destruction and loss of life. It also appeared that the Israeli militia has been champing at the bit to show off it's might and strength. Hezbollah comes along and kidnaps a single man doing a sentry-route...and they set off another bloody war that won't end anytime soon, I can almost assure you of that. I'm not attempting to say that my society is better, or that I have all the answers. If I did, I'd be lying through my ass. I just don't understand. Here in North-America...Our way of life was brought about through compromise. When the settlers first arrived, people worked together to get through things. If they didn't, they starved, they froze through the winter, or they were wiped out by the aboriginals. It's still apparent in our way of dealing with things today...not as much, but it's there. I'm not sure where I planned to go with this rant (Seems to happen a lot these days, no?), but I wanted to voice my thoughts.

Another, fairly unrelated notion was brought to my attention today...About the Christian religion. The conversation was about Christ. The person was saying that Jesus Of Nazareth gave his life to atone for the sins of others, which he shouldered all on his own and how it was amazing that people still regret it...even though over 2000 years have passed since then. It made me think...I could never let someone carry the burden of my sins. If I made them, I'm carrying them. You reap what you sow, do you not? If that's so, then why is it that Christ decided to atone for the sins of everyone else? What good did it do? None. Had people been forced to bear their own sins, then perhaps we would have learned the hard way. Instead, people have been coerced into thinking that their sins will just be forgotten because Christ and the Holy Spirit are there to forgive them if they believe in these ideas that have no proof behind them. My sins are mine, and mine alone. I think people learn more from pain and suffering...because humans learn the hard way. Always have, always will. Even the deepest of despair will always offer one thing...the knowledge and experience to get out of it. Keep that in mind.

(C) 2006 Sean Slater. (Arigatou Gosaimasu, Reiji!) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. SEASE Productions.

Same Old Song...

2006-07-16T16:27:00.000-06:00

Everybody Up!

I try not to post on things that are anything less than thoughtful, but I feel this might help reiterate something I've been trying to tell people for ages.

Yesterday I participated in HomeGrown's "Writer's Block" 2006. It's essentially a large gathering of people who are interested in Hip-Hop. We had DJs, Emcees, B-Boys, and plenty of people who are just interested in the like. However, the main focus of the "Writer's Block" is obviously graffiti. There were 35 registered writers, 2,500 Square Feet of highly visible brick wall, hundreds of cans of paint, five storeys of scaffolding, and a crowd to match. The turn-out was simply incredible. There is a whole arts festival going on this weekend all along Whyte Ave, and it was nice to see so many people on the Avenue for a reason other than a Sports team. (For my non-local readers: During the Oiler's run in the NHL Playoffs, Whyte Ave. became the site of mini-riots, fights, and other forms of intoxicated chaos.)

This Is Just A Small Part Of The Whole Event.

We had many people cross the street from the Farmer's Market to come see what the noise was about. We had speaker's blaring live cuts thanks to my man Dice, and it attracted quite a large number of passerby's. However, once they saw the scaffolding the music was immediately forgotten. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to snap any flicks of the looks of awe on the faces of the aforementioned people. We had everyone from children under the age of ten, to seniors gazing up at us with incredulous expressions. It was a really good feeling, knowing that these people appreciated what we were doing. I heard more than a few people say things along the lines of "Hey, that's really neat!" or "How do they do that with a can of spray-paint?!". These comments were really appreciated, however there were other types of compliments that, while flattering, just go to show how so many people are narrow-minded. Such as: "That's not Graffiti, it's too beautiful." It's still graffiti. It's simply legal. There are piece that are just as "beautiful" (I prefer "Ill") that were done illegally, but if they saw that piece on the side of a bridge or the back of a building...it's simply vandalism.

I won't drone on with yet another rant about the same thing...but I thought it was interesting that these people will only appreciate some things under specific circumstances. One way or another, this year's "Writer's Block" was definitely a success. Special thanks to Mic and the HomeGrown Crew, all artists, staff and volunteers involved, Montana Cans, SEAZ, FLOW and the rest of the guys at Under Pressure Magazine!

(C) 2006 Sean Slater. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. SEASE Productions.
Picture by Sean Slater. All rights are those of the artists. Unauthorized reproduction of this post or photograph in part or in whole is prohibited by law. If that doesn't discourage you, maybe the thought of a severe beatdown will.

I found this pathetically amusing...

2006-07-09T16:16:00.000-06:00

Sorry if this is old, but I saw this posted on a forum and I was wondering what my readers would say about it.

Here's the supposed story:

"In Japan shortly before a teenage girl comitted suicide, she drew this picture, scanned it and posted it online. In Korea this story broke out and it spread like wildfire. There are various posts around Korean forums that say that the viewer gets drawn to the girl's blue eyes, they say they can detect a hint of wrath and sadness within the eyes. Maybe the girl had died with so much sadness and anger that her spirit haunts the image, or maybe the image provokes sadness, similar to the song 'Gloomy Sunday'.

The freaky bit is this, they say it is hard for a person to stare into the girl's eyes for longer than 5 minutes, there are reports that some people have taken their own lives after doing so. People say the picture changes, as you view it there is a hint of a growing taunting smirk appearing on the girl's lips or a dark ring grows around the girl or her eyes.

One thing is for sure, the picture has sparked a curiosity in me that I must find out, I do feel a presence when I look at the image, whether it is evil or not I can not judge. I would like to know what the global online community feels and maybe even experts in art would be able to resolve why the eyes of this image can draw the viewer in so deeply?"

What do you think?

The picture is well-done, but there are some glaring (pun intended) things that need to be pointed out. First off, the edges are all blurred. It's incredibly hard to distinguish a clear line from anything. Therefore, when you stare in her "eyes", or the center of the face, things are blurry around the edges and it makes it harder for your eyes to keep things in a direct position. Secondly, the inaccurate shading around her eyes is darker than it should be and could therefore lead to a person seeing dark rings around her eyes after a prolonged period of time, especially if the person is looking at the eyes. Also, look at the bottom of the picture...around the collar of the girl's dress. The black and gold is very clear. This provides stability for the extreme bottom of the picture, and so when you look near the bottom to see if it's just your eyes that are blurry, you're tricked into thinking that it's clear lines. The idea of the smirk appearing is simple, because the shading and shape of her lips has been done so that you'll get that image. On another note that, the top of her head isn't proportionate to the angle of her face...You can clearly see her scalp, which wouldn't be visible from a head-on angle. I'm not sure what purpose this serves, perhaps it makes it appear as though she's looking up at you doubled with a "Smirk".

All of these are simply techniques that artists use to create different illusions. You can draw or paint anything if you know how to do it properly. These techniques have been used to create various illusions, and when a creepy story that tells you what to look for off the bat, your mind has an underlying notion to seek for and see them because the illusions have been made apparent by the story. It's just like those "Sex-Enhancement" drugs you see in stores and magazine adds. They're generally caffeine or sugar pills with various extracts in them such as Ginseng, so in other words, they do nothing for your libido. But if the user thinks that they'll work...it will. Just like that, this picture and story is the same principle. If you hear about it creeping people out, and if you see the illusions, then it'll inadvertently creep you out. Especially if you don't know about the artistic aspect of it and don't know what to look for.

Also, I find this picture to be FAR more frightening.

(C) 2006 Sean Slater All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. SEASE Productions.

Pulp-Rebellion (From The Byline)

2006-07-05T00:18:00.000-06:00

Pixels spin in and out of control in the mix. Welcome to 2006.

Marches of triumph remain a mystery, but our boys beat on a mostly beaten path. World Cups and Wide Webs distract till at least sunset.

Time designs itself so that age makes you anxious. The wisdom gained at least increases caution. Ah, to be young, risky and reckless. The senseless fun of smoking pot in alleyways.

Echo and harmony are all the imprints I get to relish and wrestle. You can get no more ghetto than I got and I gotta go get some ghetto grass and find a good spot.

Floating thru the oxygen, that fragile and sweetest of gases is a gas, it's like being a fish in outer space sometimes. Making mistakes with our hearts to cover for the desires of our soul is the new national pastime.

But due to my high regard and dignified taste in beer, it behooves me to find more economic avenues for cheaper mental restoration and relaxation.

Criminals bent on romance eventually stumble. Heroic gestures from rock stars are lukewarm compared with the graffiti-minded actor. I vote for my idols with a spray can.

Graffiti writers leave no cap untested, no circumstantial evidence and no heart unbroken. It's super-model hot these days. Even for the superstars.

And especially for cats pimping pulp rebellion in paperback. But what can I say? After all, your good taste says it all. And by way of you reading this, I know something somewhere must be good.

I maintain an appreciation beyond reproach. I send simple sentences this way and some souls sense satisfaction.

A sense of satisfaction says a lot these days. To get this far stands for something. And sometimes a little something goes a long way.

(C) 2006 Buford Youthward (AKA StockCap) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. SEASE Productions/Buford Industries.

Destined For Nothing...

2006-06-30T10:26:00.000-06:00

Tell my why so many have to die.
Tell me why they all have to lie.
What ever happened to those days,
That we all just ran in the suns rays.
Happy and free.
All was good from what we could see.
There were no wars, no discrimination.
The world was our salvation.
But as we grew old things were not the same.
For many it was about fame.
Wars became reality.
They broke out with no formality.
This world is not what it was.
All this because,
Of those little things.
Wedding rings.
Racial strings.
Belief brings.
Hate and war.
Why can't things be like they were before.
Back when colour ment nothing.
When apologizing,
Wasn't so bad,
We weren't all so sad.
This world's gone mad.
Look at that young lad.
Barely an adult.
Its almost an insult.
These poor people sent away.
Mothers pray.
Fathers fight by their side.
We all have too much pride.
These wars, this suffering.
These actions that are life altering.
So many die.
So many cry.
We're all filled with lies.
Its time for us to rise.
Free out family from the never ending pain.
Pray for all those who have been slain.
End these wars with peace.
Make all the fighting cease!

(C) 2006 Brianna Brown (AKA Blondie) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. SEASE Productions.

2006-06-26T22:09:00.000-06:00

If you wake up in the morning dreading going to work, dreading the day, hating your life, but you think "Well, I got good pay", what the hell do you use the pay for? Food so you can keep living and continuing the endless cycle of disappointment with your mundane life. When you know you had dreams of something else? But instead you just settled? Fuck settling. Be yourself, live the dream, at no matter the cost. I'd rather be broke and making music/films, then rich and being an accountant. Do what you love, if not why the fuck do you live?. - Sean Smith, Musician, visual artist and good friend.

The above was said to me tonight...and I realised I could make a good blog post out of it. I've felt the same for years. In fact, someone asked me what my greatest fear was...and I told them that it would probably be facing the reality that I'm stuck in a dead-end job with great pay...but no time to spend and enjoy it. I'm not going to make this into a long post, as I don't think there is much more that I could say without being redundant. Just think about it...

(C) 2006 Sean Slater All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. SEASE Productions.

Already Over!

2006-06-22T22:56:00.000-06:00

Alright kiddies, listen up. I've got two things currently bothering me so I'm going to address both of them here and now. One is my lack of good updates since I finished Psychology...Two is the way my peers run their relationships. Guess what, by ranting about the teenage relationship, I can vent my exasperations at my friends AND take care of my lack of decent posts. If you're looking for a critical-essay that is written in a five-paragraph format, uses proper english and has a formal approach...get lost, this isn't it. And so we begin:

It's recently become alarming how much people my age are attached to this image of a "Boyfriend/Girlfriend" relationship. It's like marriage. A novel idea, but it's just a falsity that helps your state of mind and security. People decide to get married, as if spending grotesque amounts of money on a huge party, an ugly cake, an uglier dress, swapping rings, and receiving a marriage certificate are going to make their relationship airtight. The same goes for teenage relationships. People seem to think that having the title of "Boyfriend and Girlfriend", and going on "Dates" is going to make them something special. As if it classifies them as people of importance. I'm guilty of it. I dated someone for two years, and I felt the same way. However, I've become rather jaded lately. People are deciding to "Take a break from eachother" or they claim there's nothing between them anymore aside from friendship, and yet they're still going on self-proclaimed "Dates" and they still act like they own eachother. It bugs me...It's white or black here...no grey area. (Apparently no grey-matter either.) If you're going to be "Boyfriend And Girlfriend", then be it. If you're not going to call eachother by the titles you've beset, DON'T GO ON DATES, DON'T MAKE OUT, Etc. Etc. "Friends With Benefits" doesn't work either...that's just stupid.

The way I see it, you don't need any titles to be close to someone. It's not as though you need a marriage certificate to live with a non-family member, so why should you need to be someone's "Boyfriend" to cuddle with her? Do you have to be dating to kiss someone? Last time I checked, there were no physical boundaries limiting my lips...and I plan on keeping it that way. What's the point of a title. If you like someone, tell them. If you want to be together, then be together. Why can't you just chill with someone? When did "Dates" become such a huge deal? As I said I dated someone for 2 years and we went on a total of 3 "Official Dates", but we hung out almost every day. Titles are dumb. Pre-set dates are a waste of planning time and energy, and feeling that you need to date someone to be close to them is a misconception that seems to rule our society...

Please people, see the light. It's a lot easier than you think it is. All you guys that freeze up when you try to ask a girl out, you'll never have that problem again. Just be their friend...if things happen from there, so be it. It's not as big a deal as ya'll play it out to be. Maybe you should lay of the sitcoms and other crappy TV.

(C) 2006 Sean Slater. All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. SEASE1 Productions.

The Fine Art Of Bullshitting

2006-06-20T18:48:00.000-06:00

Some of you may have read this...but so what? It's still rather amusing.
As you study for exams, remember its not the quantity it's the quality. And remember there is no substitute for pure unadulterated bull

Dr. Schambaugh, of the University of Oklahoma School of Chemical Engineering, Final Exam question for May of 1997. Dr. Schambaugh is known for asking questions such as, "why do airplanes fly?" on his final exams. His one and only final exam question in May 1997 for his Momentum, Heat and Mass Transfer II class was: "Is hell exothermic or endothermic? Support your answer with proof."

Most of the students wrote proofs of their beliefs using Boyle's Law or some variant. One student, however, wrote the following:

"First, We postulate that if souls exist, then they must have some mass. If they do, then a mole of souls can also have a mass. So, at what rate are souls moving into hell and at what rate are souls leaving? I think we can safely assume that once a soul gets to hell, it will not leave.

Therefore, no souls are leaving. As for souls entering hell, let's look at the different religions that exist in the world today. Some of these religions state that if you are not a member of their religion, then you will go to hell. Since there are more than one of these religions and people do not belong to more than one religion, we can project that all people and souls go to hell. With birth and death rates as they are, we can expect the number of souls in hell to increase exponentially.

Now, we look at the rate of change in volume in hell. Boyle's Law states that in order for the temperature and pressure in hell to stay the same, the ratio of the mass of souls and volume needs to stay constant. Two options exist:

1. If hell is expanding at a slower rate than the rate at which souls enter hell, then the temperature and pressure in hell will increase until all hell breaks loose.
2. If hell is expanding at a rate faster than the increase of souls in hell, then the temperature and pressure will drop until hell freezes over.

So which is it? If we accept the quote given to me by Theresa Manyan during Freshman year, "that it will be a cold night in hell before I sleep with you" and take into account the fact that I still have NOT succeeded in having sexual relations with her, then Option 2 cannot be true...Thus, hell is exothermic."

The student, Tim Graham, got the only A.

Imagine Whirled Peas!

2006-06-09T16:45:00.000-06:00

"People who believe in a better way of life know that the way we live now is criminal. Denial of freedoms, death by starvation and exploitation, denigration of people's capabilities everywhere. If you see that these outcomes are socially produced, then you understand that every person who dies as a result was effectively murdered. Once you accept the possibility of attaining a humanist alternative, you have to be a terrible hypocrite, coward or cynic to live passively with the contrast between what is and what could be." - Noam Chomsky, "Problems Of Knowledge And Freedom" (1971)

It amazes me...that someone as influential and high-up as Noam Chomsky has been saying this for over thirty years, and few people have yet to actually listen to him. If you choose to look at the situation of the human condition from such an extreme perspective, then yes...by all means it is criminal and the deaths caused by this unfortunate fact could be considered homocides.

However, the point I most definately agree with from this small snippet is his statement that very few people can willingly choose to simply let it be when they know the facts. The mind tries to ignore the negative, but it doesn't always work and so it always resurfaces. People hear things that happen, like the Marines that slayed the 24 Civilians in Iraq for no good reason, and it hits them hard. It makes them think and hopefully they will care, for if someone cares they generally will act. Not many people have a mind robust enough that the dirty, painful truth won't bother them. It takes a major malfunction to brush things like needless death, inescapable pain, and other attrocities.

I may be a cynic more often than not(That's why Mr. "Teacher" is leaving, methinks...), but it's not to the point where I can't see things for how they are. In fact, at time I wonder if my cynicism aids me to see through the happy-go-lucky facade that North American society tries to put up over my eyes. It's nearly impossible for me to ignore the problems of the world, considering I try to help anyone I can...and if there's one thing I can do to help it's to inform people. That's why I have this Blog, aside from the ability to type up my homework for Psychology (i.e. This little composition here), but I can also show people the truth.

(C) 2006 Sean Slater (Thank You Mr. Maroney and Mr. Chomsky) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. SEASE1 Productions.

A Four-Letter Insult, Huh?

2006-06-06T21:58:00.000-06:00

Seeing as I can't get permission to repost it, I'll simply post the link. THIS IS FUNNY STUFF! Completely over-playin this kat to make him look like some righteous beaureaucrat. In truth, he's simply an Ex-Lawyer who got made fun of too much when he was growin' up.

http://abcnews.go.com/US/wireStory?id=2024446&page=1

In case you're wondering about that billboard ETHER painted, I got it right here.

THAT'S RIGHT!

(C) 2006 Sean Slater (F*CK VALLONE!) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. SEASE1 Productions.

Complete Predictability

2006-06-06T17:06:00.000-06:00

If the Earth's history were condensed into one (1) year, each day would represent 10,000,000 years. January 1st is the beginning of the Earth, and Midnight (12:00) is NOW! Today. It would go a little something like this:

- Jan. 1st: 3500 Million Years Ago.

- Aug. 1st: Multi-Celled Organisms First Appear (Sean Slater is also born in the year AD 1990).

- Nov. 1st: Vertebrates (Back-Boned Creatures) First Appear.
- Nov. 30th: Lungfish And Other Creatures First Begin To Live On Land.

- Dec. 1st: Land-Dwelling Vertebrates Appear.
- Dec. 15th: Winged Creatures Appear.
- Dec. 25th: Dinosaurs And Other Mammals Appear
- Dec. 31st: 6PM- Apes Appear

And Finally, One December 31st, At 11:58...Two Minutes Ago, Humans Appeared.

Humans are Nothing! Creatures have been inhabiting the land for 400 Million Years...Humans have existed for less than 1 Million years. We are petty...and yet we walk around this planet like we own the place. We are so conceited and self-absorbed...we ruin this planet that has been host to ourselves and countless other species for eons just to suit ourselves. In the great words of Greg Graffin in his song Watch It Die: "I was born on planet earth, a rotating ball where man comes first. It's been around for a long, long time...but now its time to watch it die."

35 Million years ago, there was a mass-extinction. Over 80% of the Earth's species were killed off. Mass extinction is nothing new, it's gone on for ages...In fact, we humans are here because of it. Had the dinosaurs never been wiped out, the mammals would never have been given the chance to evolved as they have, ergo Humans would not be here. Perhaps our planet would have been far better off...who knows. Mass-Extinction caused us to be here, and it will cause us to die off. It's inevitable, especially at the rate we humans are going. The human race will not always be here, and people need to realise that. In the end, all our troubles and petty worries mean nothing. They simply satisfy us, however fruitless they actually are. Why people bother toiling over power struggles within their companies, why people fight over things like oil, why we kill eachother, why people want to conquer this planet...it's all beyond me. I'd like to think that it's below me. Not to be conceited, but really. It means nothing. Just live your life to its fullest, keep yourself happy, and die anyways. We live, breathe, reproduce, and die. That's how it happens. Pessimistic? Perhaps. But it's the tragic future that awaits us all. We'll all run out of steam eventually, some of us sooner than others. None of our exploits will mean anything in the long run. Perhaps the next dominant species on this planet will look back and laugh at us for how much we toiled over such inconsequential things...I certainly hope so. It'd simply prove that what I'm saying is true.

(C) 2006 Sean Slater (Thanks Maroney!) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. SEASE1 Productions.

6-6-06

2006-06-05T22:42:00.000-06:00

'Nuff Said.

Merchants Of Menace (From The Byline)

2006-06-03T17:51:00.000-06:00

Living with indifference. It's tough to give a shit these days.

All a good writer can ever hope to do is maximize the hustle. Viral testimony and buzzed backing aside, my space still seems cooler than myspace.

The age of the internet hustle is upon us. You too can become the center of the latest think tank firing idiot missiles in html.

Low end hustles and high grade rent manage themselves snugly between red wine and twisted twigs. I find time to read a found letter or two.

'Tis the season for pick pockets, bottle rockets and fragmentary grenades. Rolling pins, bowling pins, moonlight serenades.

Physical contact becomes emotional contract. We all got theories of love and powers above but some of us need to know what's lurking below.

When throwing your creative process at the world make sure to break glass, cause crashes and trigger conniption fits. Otherwise, why bother.

The world mistakes merchants of menace for mercenaries of mercy. Shotguns have a way of getting the right versions of truth justified.

No one is fooled when ammunition is the source of change. But change isn't getting any easier to collect. In fact it's harder than ever to keep track of change.

With the internet and all, change is just a click away. All of our desires, all of our dreams, as near or far as a hyperlink.

It's as if the earth...

...a mere pixel.

Impartiality is a pompous name for indifference, which is an elegant name for ignorance. -- G.K. Chesterton

(C) 2006 Buford Youthward (StockCap) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. SEASE1 Productions

48 Hours

2006-05-26T17:18:00.000-06:00

The following was taken from today's Edmonton Journal: "Would be graffiti vandals could find it difficult to purchase the tools of the trade if a sales ban proposed by the city's chief bylaw officer comes into effect. Bill Bruce is exploring the idea of preventing minors from purchasing spray-paint, broad-tip markers and glass cutting and etching tools - a bylaw recently put in place in London, Ontario." "'It would make (the products) more difficult to get, reduce the availability.' Bruce said if he could get buy-in from businesses that sell the products used to deface buildings and bridges, a bylaw wouldn't be necessary.

THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS! This kind of policy has already been put in place in NYC for years, and what good has it done that city? None!
Fact is that the majority of Graffiti writers are over 18 anyways, so banning the stuff wouldn't do much good as it is. Also, minors would simply go out of town or have the older guys buy the stuff for us. I have more than enough homies who would pick up paint for me, it wouldn't be a serious problem...but still. Last time I checked, there weren't any cancer-inducing substances in a can of paint, nor was there any alcohol...so why should it be prohibitted? And what of markers? You gonna ban Sharpie chisel tips? How about regular felt markers? They're all used for graffiti! Go ahead, ban them. I'll just keep using shoe-polish bottles. They're completely opaque, nearly impossible to buff, and if you mix them with brake-fluid, it leaves a ghost-tag. Oops! I shouldn't say that, the government will find out and they'll ban that too! Imagine that headline. "City Adds Shoe-Polish And Brake-Fluid To The List Of Controlled Substances!" Wouldn't that go over well...

Another thing. Notice how in the passage that I transcribed, we writers are referred to as nothing but "Vandals" who do nothing more than "Deface buildings and bridges"? Believe me, I may be a vandal...but I am first and foremost an Artist. Also, we paint a hell of a lot more than just buildings and bridges. Overpasses, Billboards, Freight-trains, public transportation, rooftops, electrical boxes and Police cruisers are all fair game. Please don't narrow down our options more than we already do. We spare your houses, we spare your private vehicles and we spare your places of worship...don't provoke us. Not to mention the backs of the buildings and the bridges that we bomb are ugly as it is, they're all rusted heaps of metal or sheer walls of cement or white paint...they could certainly use some colours. In any case, this article is pathetically biased. It's nothing more than propaganda designed to make the citizens of the city root for the new bylaw and force the owners and managers of local stores into coercion.

Another example of this propaganda is the city's pledge to erase graffiti of any kind, be it legal or illegal, within 48 hours. When I heard that this promise was going to be put into effect, I wrote the local police press officer a letter telling him that it was going to be bad news...not only that, but they decided to tear down all the legal walls in Edmonton. I told him that it was a bad idea...I WARNED him. He simply replied by telling me that they would hold steadfast in their attempt to clean up the city of it's vandalizing, tresspassing scum and that we weren't going to stop him. So I sent him another reply saying one thing: "Watch Us." SEASE1 C.B.K.*F.T.L.
Guess what? He hasn't stopped us yet, we're still here in greater numbers. We get up faster than the city can counter it. We're bombing harder than they can imagine...and they're falling behind. 48 hours my ass! There are pieces that we've put up that have been there for over a month now.

Needless to say, I hope to whatever there is out there to hope on, that this law does not get passed. I also hope that you, my readers, agree with me. If you don't, you shouldn't be reading this publication.

(C) 2006 Sean Slater - All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. SEASE1 Productions.

Scary, Isn't It?

2006-05-25T22:25:00.000-06:00

> In Pharmacology, all drugs have two names, a trade
> name and generic name. For example, the trade name
> of Tylenol also has a generic name of Acetaminophen.
> Aleve is also called Naproxen. Amoxil is also call
> Amoxicillin and Advil is also called Ibuprofen.
> The FDA has been looking for a generic name
> for Viagra. After careful consideration by a team of
> government experts, it recently announced that it
> has settled on the generic name of Mycoxafloppin.
> Also considered were Mycoxafailin, Mydixadrupin,
> Mydixarizin, Dixafix, and of course, Ibepokin.
> Pfizer Corp. announced today that Viagra will
> soon be available in liquid form, and will be
> marketed by Pepsi Cola as a power beverage suitable
> for use as a mixer. It will now be possible for a
> man to literally pour himself a stiff one. Obviously
> we can no longer call this a soft drink, and it
> gives new meaning to the names of "cocktails",
> "highballs" and just a good old-fashioned "stiff
> drink". Pepsi will market the new concoction by the
> name of: MOUNT & DO.
> Thought for the day: There is more money being
> spent on breast implants and Viagra today than on
> Alzheimer's research. This means that by 2040, there
> should be a large elderly population with perky
> boobs and huge erections and absolutely no
> recollection of what to do with them.

Does this count as a rant? I think so.

2006-05-25T16:01:00.000-06:00

You might agree with it, but when it actually happens 99% of girls dont realize it till it is too late and that guy who did it is so frustrated that he has moved on to someone who will take notice.

From a guys point of view:

We don't care if you talk to other guys.

We don't care if you're friends with other guys.

But when you're sitting next to us, and some random guy walks into the room and you jump up and tackle him, without even introducing us, yeah, it pisses us off.

It doesn't help if you sit there and talk to him for ten minutes without even acknowledging the fact that we're still there.

We don't care if a guy calls you, but at 2 in the morning we do get a little concerned. Nothing is that important at 2 a.m. that it can't wait till the morning.
____________________________________________________

Also, when we tell you you're pretty/ beautiful/ gorgeous/ cute/ stunning, we freaking mean it.

Don't tell us we're wrong.

We'll stop trying to convince you.

The sexiest thing about a girl is confidence.
____________________________________________________

Yeah, you can quote me.
____________________________________________________

Don't be mad when we hold the door open.
Take Advantage of the mood I'm in.

LET US PAY FOR YOU!

DON'T "FEEL BAD"

We enjoy doing it.

It's expected.

Smile and say "Thank you."
____________________________________________________

Kiss us when no one's watching.

If you kiss us when you know somebody's looking, we'll be more impressed.
____________________________________________________

You don't have to get dressed up for us.

If we're going out with you in the first place, you don't have to feel the need to wear the shortest skirt you have or put on every kind of makeup you own.

We like you for WHO you are and not WHAT you are.

Honestly, I think a girl looks more beautiful when she's just in her pj's or my t-shirt and boxers, not all dolled up

____________________________________________________

Don't take everything we say seriously.

Sarcasm is a beautiful thing. See the beauty in it.

Don't get angry easily.
____________________________________________________

Stop using magazines/media as your bible.

Don't talk about how hott Morris Chesnutt, Brad Pitt, or Jesse McCartney is in front of us.

It's boring, and we don't care.
You have girlfriends for that.
____________________________________________________

Whatever happened to the word "handsome"/"beautiful"

I'd be utterly stunned by a girl who greeted me with "Hey
handsome!" instead of "Hey baby/ stud/ cutie/ sexy!" or whatever else you can think of.

On the other hand im not saying I woulndn't like those either...
____________________________________________________

Girls, I cannot stress this enough:
IF YOU AREN'T BEING TREATED RIGHT BY A GUY, DON'T WAIT FOR HIM TO CHANGE. DITCH HIS SORRY, DISGRACE-TO-THE-MALE-POPULATION ASS, AND FIND SOMEONE WHO WILL TREAT YOU WITH UTTER RESPECT

Someone who will honor your morals.

Someone who will make you smile when you're at your lowest.

Someone who will care for you even when you make mistakes.

Someone who will love you, no matter how bad you make them feel.

Someone who will stop what theyre doing just to look you in the
eyes and say "I love you"

....AND ACTUALLY MEAN IT!

Give the nice guys a chance.

Now THAT'S What I'm Talkin' About!

2006-05-17T21:22:00.000-06:00

GO OILERS GO! Western Semi-Finals are OVER, and we're off to Anaheim to cook some duck! Congrats to #94 Ryan Smyth! Lost three teeth, and still scored 7 goals this series. Now that's called determination. He also scored two goals on Mother's Day and called his Mother on LIVE TV to dedicate them to her, even though she was in the stands. Let's keep this up and bring the cup home!

The Indictment Of An Economic Hitman...

2006-05-16T16:28:00.000-06:00

Yet another post in hopes of opening your eyes:

Did you know that in the length of one class at school, 1200 children will die around the world? That's over half the population of my school gone...in one block. Want to know why? Because of the 6.5 Billion humans on this planet, 1 Billion of them live on less than $1 US a day...Let's attempt to put things into a better perspective. On January first, you receive $750 and that's it. No more income over the year, no aid...and you must live on that for one year. The majority of us would be out of money in less than two months...if that long.

Another disturbing fact. North Americans and Europeans together spent $17 Billion US on pet food in 2005. That's $4 Billion more than it would take to provide every single human on earth with basic needs and nutrition. It's that simple! This is not to say that you should go out and shoot your dog...but really. It's disgusting. Many people say things like "Well I worked for my money and I plan to keep it!". Well guess what? YOU CAN! We pay enough in taxes to help these people year after year, and we don't get hurt by that. You CAN help solve the problems, and still regale in your damn Hummers, your 54" Plasma TVs, and all the other material things that make you feel some semblance of happiness. I don't mean to make my readers feel guilty, and please don't dwell on this. I just want to make these things known. Because when you know, you can work to change things. Knowledge is the most important thing we can pass on. Not our genes, not our inheritance...knowledge. Pssst...Hey, pass it on.

(C) 2006 Sean Slater (Thanks Maroney!) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. SEASE1 Productions <{-_-}>

Unreflected Consciousness

2006-05-15T21:44:00.000-06:00

Have you ever listened to an instrumental song? Perhaps of a song you already know, perhaps it's new to you. Until tonight, my thought patterns mimicked an instrumental track perfectly. I'd sit down here, hoping to relieve myself of the anxiety and emptiness that I'm currently wading through, and yet the words that I'm trying to find to explain everything shy away. I can't express myself, and perhaps that is the most frustrating thing I've experienced of late.
It's strange, isn't it? Oft times we hear music and expect it to have words, but when you listen to an instrumental track something else happens. The ambience of it takes over your auditory sense and heightens it to a new level. You begin to hear new things that weren't really present before, when the words were there. This happens in everyday life too. If you decide to ignore what's being said, you can hear background noises and sense things that you normally woudln't give a second thought. It's happened to me a lot lately. I simply tune the world out, ignore what people have to say...and the ambience of it takes over. Sometimes we're so "blinded" by words and the things that people have to say, that we waste all our energy focusing on the audio and not near enough on anything e lse. Perhaps it would be better to deaden the spoken, and listen to them in a different sense. If you don't get what I mean, think back to the last time you were at a concert, a rally, or even when it's too loud in the school cafeteria. When you're with someone you know, you need only to look at them and you'll know what the other is thinking. Not to say that there is some kind of telepathic "hearing"...but there are other methods of communicating without your mouth. I, for one, am sick and tired of talking to people...I'll speak if I have to, but I'd prefer not to. Talking to someone online, or writing them a note is fine...but vocal expression is beginning to grate the nerves. So please, if I choose not to answer your vocal questions with a vocal reply...don't take it too personally. It's not that I'm ignoring you (entirely anyways), it's simply that I don't have the ambition to speak. I guarantee you that I'll give you a proper answer...you'll just have to look for it. I like working on challenges, but I especially love giving them. I can figure it out, so you damn well better be able to as well. Good luck, folks. You're going to need it.

Many want to make themselves known by the words they speak. First off, I wonder why these people wish to make themselves known. Are they honestly attempting to be Authentic? Or are they simply smothering a fantasy of being rich and famous? So many people that I know constantly tell me that they will become a movie star, or a top singer...What in the hell would compell you to do that? What is so great about having your face plastered on billboards? Why is it such an amazing fantasy to be on stage in front of 25,000 live fans all screaming their lungs out, on top of the millions who would be watching you live on TV? Is that what it takes to get you off? I find it disgusting(No Offense...). Of course, I'm sure you're all wondering what my problem is...It must seem paradoxical, a Graffiti Writer denouncing those who wish for fame. Well I assure you that it is anything but. First off, I don't want my picture posted all over, I don't want fans who will pull off crazy stunts just to see me up close, and I certainly don't want an entourage of managers, bodyguards, and photographers to follow me around 24/7...Your movie scripts have nothing on the expression that radiates from a four-colour burner on the second-storey of a building. Your song lyrics can't compare to a two-tone throwie on the side of a freight car.
I create art, I bend the limits of my right to free speech, I break the law to express myself in my own way. The thrill of an illegal activity, the knowledge that I am exercising my "God-given" and inalienable rights, and the creative process that goes into the art...fun and all, but it's still not why I write. It's an escape, just like dope, alcohol, or anything else like that...except mine is far better for me and society. I just want to say that I AM a threat, I AM cancer to the cities of North America, I WILL influence the minds of younger generations, and I WILL write graffiti. Don't like it? Screw you.

Two rants in one post. Go Me...

(C) 2006 Sean Slater (Thanks to nobody...) All Right Reserved, All Wrongs Justified. SEASE1 Productions
<{^.^}>
Yoisho...Kirei Na Kanjou. 70KY0 P|45T1C RU|35

How To Be A Villain...

2006-05-14T17:03:00.000-06:00

In light of recent events, my mental output has been pushed past it's limits. It appears that I am currently unable to produce any coherent writings, so please bear with me. I spend more time spacing out and pondering than I do back in reality, and yet everytime I sit down here to attempt to archive these thoughts my mind goes blank, words escape me, and I spend half to three quarters of an hour spacing out once again. If and when I return to my previous mindset, I'll be sure to let you know. However, in the meantime...don't expect anything amazing just yet. Check back, but don't hope.

"Hell is other people."

2006-05-14T16:24:00.000-06:00

Concept File: Inauthenticity -

We have a basic choice in life. We can choose to be authentic or inauthentic. To be authentic means to experience fully the fact of your own unique being. To be inauthentic means to try to escape your own individuality, to live as if you were not a distinct person. It is called the inauthentic mode of "the they". Much of everyday life is inauthentic. Examples of 'inauthentic possibilites' everything which as a person you share with 'everybody': mass produced clothes, buses and trains, public parks, public places, public shelters.

Concept File: The Other -

"The Other" is a term for a general presence, an aspect of how each person experiences not only the world, but also their own being. "The Other" is part of 'my' consciousness. I have no way of being aware of who I am withought some sense of how I appear from another point of view. It is defined as a 'mediator between myself and me'. Perhaps the most graphic example of "The Other" is 'Shame'. It is used to define this otherness inside us all. "I am ashamed of myself as I appear to "the Other"." To feel ashamed of myself, I have to view my life from an alien perspective.

Sartre's Existentialism:
- I am conscious of my existence without having any way of justifying or even explaining it.

- To become conscious means to recognise the gratuitousness of one's existence., that is, the lack of any reason linking your existence to any wider scheme of things.

- Your existence confronts you as a blank fact, withouth origin. You cannot find the meaning of your existence by asking where you come from.

The whole system develops in response to this central disturbing vision.

Concept File: The Absurd -

The Absurd is a term for the ways in which the world defies human efforts to find coherent meaning. It arises from the fact that things, including people, co-exist without being connected.

(C) 2001 George Myerson -/|\- All Rights Reserved. Used without permission from the author...too bad.

Dynamic Revolution

2006-05-09T20:15:00.000-06:00

It appears that I've recently taken an interest in the idea of parenting. Not that I plan on having children anytime soon, but it is an interesting concept for me. I've never experienced anything like it...I don't think there is anything that you can honestly compare it to.
I want to ask you a question. What makes a good parent? I don't plan to answer this question myself...I couldn't possibly answer it truthfully at this point in time. Take a look at your own parents. Look at their successes and failures... What were your their "styles" as it were? Did they reign you in and try to control you and influence you? Did they decided that you could take care of yourself, and hope that you'd come to them when they could be of help? Did they seem completely apathetic about you? What?

Ask yourself what you would do...how you would handle the situation.
Raising a child is the hardest thing there is to do. If you worry about your problems now...wait until you have children of your own. High-School will seem like tying your shoes when compared to trying to teach a child to tie their own. All your pubescent problems will be nothing in the wake of helping your own child with his or her relationship troubles. Who knows where I'm going with this...Perhaps I'll figure it out some day.

(C) 2006 Sean Slater (Thanks Maroney!) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

The Price Of Silence

2006-05-04T19:28:00.000-06:00

I want out. I want a mutually assured destructive life. Seizing separate culture to take me over. Silent like radar, take me over and blow out my mind. Full disclosure coming, sponsored by no one. Take me over and blow out my mind...Ejected.

(C) 2006 Fugazi All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified, All Lefts In Vain.

"Follow The Leader"

2006-05-03T20:30:00.000-06:00

Too much of anything makes you an addict. How true a statement...Cravings, Withdrawal, Dissapointment. It's a difficult process trying to get your head around the whole idea of the gaping hole that needs to be filled. Fear eventually sets in, and the experience is heightened to a whole new level the next time the opportunity presents itself. Before we know it, we awaken with our hair in our fists, moisture in our eyes, and panic is fresh in our memories. Our search is out of sheer desperation...the attempt to quench or at least sate the thirst, but it is always in vain. The itch is never scratched, and the slightest attempt to reconcile it only doubles the effect. Like being in the throes of acceleration...an experience of non-uniform motion. It drives you to distraction at times...simply a malfunction in the daily routines.

Follow the leader, see where it takes you...maybe you'll find something you'll enjoy.

(C) 2006 Sean Slater (Thanks Kaite!) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

The Template For Quality

2006-05-02T16:49:00.000-06:00

Everybody Up!

For those of you that have yet to notice...I've edited the name of this compilation. I've also changed the header/introduction. "Thought provoking guilt, societal discontentment and a discourse on culture. A question of moderns and a detachment from the materialistic mindset..." If you're wondering what this means, and what it has to do with the contents of this Blog...sit back a moment and think about it. If you're not wondering, too bad...I'm giving an explanation for it. And for once, I'm disenfranchising from my own saying of "Reasons are excuses, and excuses will not be tolerated." So if you try to use that on me, I'll simply tell you to shove it. As I was saying:

If you're guilty, you'll know it. There is a line from a NOFX song that goes "The guilty don't feel guilty, they learn not to." I disagree. I, myself, am guilty of all sorts of things. Criminal acts, moral wrongs, failures, the list goes on. I know this, and I accept it. I don't spend time regretting things that I can't change...it's a waste of time and a painful experience. This, however, does not mean that I don't think about it. I spent hours upon hours revising my actions everyday, wondering what would have happened if I'd simply said one word differently, or ignored this comment. This also applies to guilt. When I realise that I was or am in the wrong, I'll take my time evaluating my decisions and looking at the consequences. I am an advocate of thinking before speaking or acting, and I'm generally good about it, but who said anything about thinking afterwards? Nobody, and that's why I do it. It makes for a better person, or at least a better understanding of the situation. Empathy comes in handy.

Societal discontentment...not a hard notion. Our Super-Ego (Freud's term for the Society that we abide by)is screwed over...and over the course of this Blog I have, and will continue to comment on(actually, it's more like rip to shreds) the North American Society.

A discourse on Culture. I would like to think that I'm a part of a variety of cultures and sub-cultures. For example, I can speak on behalf of myself as a punk, as a hip-hop head, and as a multi-national person. And I'll continue to do so in this Blog.

A question of moderns. This is where things get interesting. Many of the modern ideas and inventions are bastardisations of past realisations and products. For example, many of Freud's ideas were his own, they came from his realisations...however, the Greek philosophers and idealists were speaking of the same ideas thousands of years before he wrote them down in his texts. Also, many new movies are derived from old stories or texts. Take the movie "10 Things I Hate About You", it's simply a modernized version of Shakespeares' "Taming Of The Shrew". This is simply showing that there is a reason to question the moderns. Many times, a new product comes out and people flock to it...but it's a twist on an older product. As I've said before...it's very difficult to be original.

A detachment from the materialistic mindset. This can be taken in many ways, but one perspective that I like to focus on is the one most don't consider. A lot of people think that their posessions define them. That your clothing tells people who you are, your car shows what kind of a person you are, your home is indicative of the lifestyle you live. People try to analyze eachother via such widely-accepted methods of scrutiny, and I simply throw it back in their face and tell them that they don't know me. If you took one look at me, in my baggy and torn jeans and brown zip-up with the hood tossed up, would you be able to tell that I'm an IB student? Would you know that my favourite subject in school is Psychology, or that I'm fluent in French? No. Chances are that you'd dismiss me as being another teenage egotist who does give a damn what goes on around me.
Your materialistic status means nothing in the long run, it won't make you a better person...but it'll make you look cool! There's an amazingly brilliant commercial that I once saw. I originally remembered it because of how hilarious it was, but it does a great job to prove my point. It starts with a man who's dressed sharply, a grin on his face, and his family around me. The dialogue goes something like this: "Hi! My name is Dave. I live in a beautiful community, in a big house with an even bigger backyard, I have three cars, a great family, and I'm also a full-time member of the local recreation club. How do I do it? I'm in debt up to my eyeballs." It simply goes to show that so many people live far beyond their means...to look good. Nowadays, image is everything. If you own a Cadillac, you're successful, and someone to know. You may live in the ghetto, Ipswitch (part of the Indian River 'hood) for all I know, but you own that Escalade, and that's what counts!
We are one with our posessions. They are the signs of our experience and the road map of our souls. We haul them behind us to explain where we've been, to anchor our selves, to barricade in. Ego's budget knows no bounds. When I paint the side of someone's store, they get all upset and swear to have justice. Funny, I don't recall doing them any wrongs. I didn't paint them...I simply painted their property. Yet another piece of matter. Did it cause them any pain? Not that I know of. Did it do anything at all to cause them harm or ruin their store? Last time I checked, the answer was still no. People have too much attachment to their property. Does it do anything to make them a better person? Chances are it has the opposite effect. It only serves to make people greedy. I'm not here to advocate a minimalistic lifestyle, goodness knows I have a tumultuous amount of crap in my room, but I'm not as worried about it as much as some people. I don't feel the need to have designer labels, if I acquire them, so be it...but I'll settle for some Old Navy scrubs for all I care. Aesthetic is not something I worry about too much in my daily life. The only time it comes in handy is when the paint cans come out. That's where all my imagination and attention to detail comes out, in my expression. My aesthetic is expressed in the irresponsibility of my actions.

(C) 2006 Sean Slater (Thanks StockCap!) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified

I AM THE TERRORIST.

Midnight In The Perfect World...

2006-05-01T19:54:00.000-06:00

Everybody Up!

A friend of mine recently read this publication titled Graffiti Dreams...AKA This Blog, and called me a modern philosopher. This bothered me. Not that I dislike being given such an important title...but that is not what I am, nor is it that the purpose of this Blog.

Philosophy is essentially the process of using silogistic reasoning to draw self-reasoned answers to three main questions: "What Is Real?", "What am I", and "Is there only one world, or many?" Have I tackled any of the above questions? No. Perhaps I will someday, but as of now I'm no philosopher.

This Blog is nothing more than a place for me to store my thoughts...A subject is brought to my attention, I think about it, if it's worth a rant, I'll type it up, if it's worth posting, I'll post it. You have no idea how many drafts I have...rants that aren't worth posting, rants that wouldn't mean anything to anyone but me...much like this one. I don't mean to influence anyone's thoughts or beliefs with the content posted on here...If you find something you like, and think that it's a movement or idea worth following, then by all means please agree. But just because you read something on here doesn't mean it's THE answer, or that it's the best way to go.

Disclaimer:
It is not okay to hurt people, break into buildings or homes, trespass, sneak around train-yards, climb billboards, clamber onto bridges or overpasses, write on people's stuff, paint storefronts, or dwell on the negative too much. Though these activities might seem fun and amusing to read about, doing them can get you in a whole heap of trouble. If you do anything and get away with it, please write and tell me about it. If you get caught, don't blame me.

(C) 2006 Sean Slater (Thanks guys!) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified While You Were Sleeping Is Printed In Canada

Teenage Love Affair...(From The Byline)

2006-05-01T19:45:00.000-06:00

An honest moment, a pure spot. To come from there is all one could wish for.

And from now on, this is an authorized riot zone. A mispronounced word. A seduction over the internet.

I ply my trade and reach for reaction, refreshment and reformation. Making due with the goods I got.

Simple sentences line up, populate your monitor, make way for meaning but meaning is something one has to make for themselves.

Language mimics nature, music mimics time, graffiti mimics space. Laughing at our humanity makes us human.

Dignity and shame swing like some displaced pendulum in our hearts while our minds are occupied with more pressing diversions.

Clear and disciplined thought increases the chance for better keystrokes, cooler counterpoint lines and slicker escape routes. So says my manual.

Train stops and tunnels whiz by like chapters in a book. Each girder, each electrical box, a knot in the plot. Terminals are starting points.

Kids kicking it off center have showdowns over billboard signs, freight trains and traffic signs. Battles over sunshine spring forth time to time.

Monitoring this monitor for a mere moment mitigates most as meaningless. Time ill spent. Perhaps.

But I have faith that maybe there's a campus computer or lonely laptop receiving this information right now and on time. And here's to that hope.

And like the poet whose mission is to express in a few words what might not be adequately described in many, I hope you are better off for clicking a few keystrokes this way.

(C) 2006 Buford Youthward (AKA StockCap) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

Silogistic Reasoning Is A Gift...Don't Spend It All On One Thing.

2006-04-28T18:24:00.000-06:00

This post focuses on multiple points. They don't seem interconnected, but let me tell you that they most certainly are. How? you ask...well I'm not going to spoil it. If you figure it out, then you understand my methods of reasoning.

My first point is one for which I am torn between sides. I want to, and often do believe one, yet sometimes I can't help but think the other. What is love? WAIT! Before you sigh in disgust and skip this paragraph...hear me out, please! Sure...I've described it as a multitude of things. A bond between people, no matter what form their relationship may take. An emotion that you feel towards someone when you realise that you have a special relationship...yadda yadda. There is another idea for it that I've been considering for a while, but I haven't been able to voice it properly. It seems that this is where Mr. Maroney comes in...he tends to find the words to convey the same ideas and theories that I have. Without him, this Blog would not exist. "Love is an illusion...Its the sugar-coated version of lust. We feel the need to wrap our lust up in something to make it more palpable, and that's where we get the illusion of love." Don't believe us? Try it. If you honestly think you're in love, go to your significant other and kiss them. Once you've kissed them...on the mouth...sit back and think about it. Did you feel anything? Chances are you did. Some indescribable feeling occured with the contact. It has been described as many things, but for me, the most accurate is "an electric jolt". You get riled up...you want more. Some think that this is how you know you're in love. Whevenever you get that not-so-elusive "jolt", you're experience is telling you that you're "in love". Perhaps, but highly doubtful. I have a pretty strong argument that it's simply lust. That craving for more, that feeling that ran through you, it's just a pang of lust! Analyse it, if you have the capability to be honest with yourself, and maybe...just maybe you'll realise this. When you kiss someone, you generally don't want to stop...and given the chance, you most likely won't. You'll get closer, the rest of your senses experience a deadening, perhaps hands will wander as if of their own free will. Ever wondered why? Because your instincts are kicking in, and your sexual drives are telling you that you're diggin' this, and that you should go further. If you want more examples...or more information on this matter, dial 1-800-WHA-TEVS. Actually, just IM me. FoxGray02 for those of you that don't know.

Next Point! (I know, I took a bit more space than I thought with the last one)
Van Gogh's brother once said this of him "An artist is someone who is constantly seeking and never finding..." What an amazingly brilliant quote! (Beer from a bottle...Brilliant!) The same goes for Graffiti Writers (Yes Thomas, more Graf...suck it up.) Constantly seeking but never finding. That we are. Always trying to attain freedom to paint and get our name up. But in the society that rocks us, we have yet to find it. The day that Graffiti is made legal no matter where written, will be the first day of the downfall of authority...Which, in some sense would not be a good thing, and yet I'll continue to fight for it.

Last Point! Remember how I said that all living things are made up for the same four sugars? Not only that, but the Mitochondrian Deoxyribonucleic Ac!d in every single human is the EXACT same! Yes, that's right (not left)...your MTDNA is the same as mine. This has enabled scientists to trace us back to what they think is a single African woman. So if this is true, why do we have such a thing as racism? Why?! We're all brothas (and sistas) from the SAME PHR34K1N' MOTHA!

I'll never understand humans, but if I did...I'd be God.

Stylistic Differences: A Study of Dis-Ease

2006-04-25T16:08:00.000-06:00

There is a serious problem with a man who beats his wife. Not only is it morally unacceptable, but it is also Counter-Evolutionary! The subjugation of women is completely stupid, and it's gone on for MILLENIAE! Simply read the "Da Vinci Code", it gives more than a few examples of such subjugation.
While there are all kinds of theories and factual causes for spouse-abuse and other acts of sexism, there are some that seem more common than others. One certain hypothesis was brought to my attention by none other than the infamous Mr. Maroney! His idea involves one of the most basic of instincts, humans' yearning for knowledge. However, before I explain this in depth...I'd like to bring up another theory from a modern great. Freud's concept of the "Penis-Envy". Sounds ridiculous...and in my opinion it is. Freud's theory claimed that Women envied Men for their power, and they saw this power to stem from the Penis, one of the few accoutrements that men have that women lack. Ergo, Frued claimed, women envied men because men had penises. What a load of crap. I, having a penis of my own (believe it or not...), know for a fact that this is definately, definately...not the case. I personally think that women have far more power than men, and for this men have subjugated them because they don't want to acknowledge this fact. Besides...there's very little to envy about having an extra appendage.

Anyways, getting back to Maroney's hypothesis...
Mr. Maroney thinks that Men have subjugated women for a variety of reasons, which is true, but that a universal cause...albeit subconscious and locked away...is something that he calls "Gestation Envy". Women have the ability to bear a child, give birth to that child, and sustain it from their own body! During the 9 months leading up to the birth...what can we men do? Watch. Watch...watch...watch. THAT'S IT!!
Humans are an extremely complicated species...and one of the most infuriating qualities that we have is curiosity. Damn curiosity...not only does it kill cats, but it makes us learn more and therefore enslave our youth into a pseudo-intelligent system called "Education". I'll spare you from that rant again as it has already been covered. It does however, make us want to know everything! Think about it...we are gluttons for knowledge. We've gone as far as outer space for knowledge! The bottom of the ocean, the top of Mt. Everest, all the way down to sub-atomic particles! But...there is one thing that will never be known to the likes of the male population. What is it like to have the gift of birth? Seriously. What is it like to know that something is living inside of you, that you created it, that you are "God" to this entity? That is something that I will never know...and while most men will not admit it, but I know that because I am human and therefore, whether I want to be or not, I am curious. I'm not a father, and I don't plan to be for a very long time...but that doesn't mean I can't be curious!

On a final note...I would like to point out a fact. Men have subjugated women for thousands of years, and look at the world today. Poverty, Hunger, Disease (not Dis-Ease), and nuclear weapons (which are ironically shaped like penises...). We made a serious mistake. All living things, be it humans to plants to hamsters...are all the same thing. We're all made up of the same four ingredients. All our DNA is made up of the same four sugars...it's simply the recipe, or how it's put together. Why do we do such a thing? The human race may be considered the most intelligent species on this planet...but it is possible to be Intelligent, yet dumb where it counts. We are the best example.

(C) 2006 Sean Slater (Thanks Maroney!) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

Diatribes

2006-04-24T18:04:00.000-06:00

Authentic Human communication is constantly drowned beneath the deafening racket of an inhumane and insane multinational corporate system. This system dominates our collective reality. Behind every advertisement – a baton; behind every “new and improved” product – a canister of teargas; behind every T.V. show- a tank; behind every newspaper – a prison cell; and behind every textbook – a graveyard. The classroom, the chat room, the bedroom, the church, the psychiatrists couch, the cash register, the answering machine, the office, the bar, the jail- these are all spaces in which we are confronted with our incapacity to speak.

But perhaps the most glaring expression of our voice-less-ness is in the streets.

The streets speak the language of money, and so our official options are either to speak this language as well, or shut our fucking mouths.

Street writers are among those whose expression enjoys more than just the system’s options.

We are street writers. We are not particularly special. We will explore our freedom. You wouldn’t know that we are street writers if you met us.

We are a lot like you. We are just people with anger, and passion, and hope, and vision, just like you. We create graffiti as a means of speaking and acting towards a free society; the kind of society that you, and me, and us could actually live in together. We only know so much, but our work is excited to share our truth. We are sharing this publication with you because if you want to create graffiti as well, we would like you to do an excellent job. If you are going to create graffiti, we hope that it is brilliant, bold, strategically done, and enjoyable!

Though I'm Young And Cynical, It's Not My Only Crime...

2006-04-22T22:32:00.000-06:00

I feel comfortable in the dark.

Sure, darkness has it's discrepancies. Many people are afraid of the dark because it contains surprises, cloaks things. But I feel secure, because I know that I'm one of the things it contains, that it cloaks. I suppose it's not so much the hiding aspect, but the fact that I'm not as visible...meaning that I'm less likely to be seen, and therefore judged accordingly. Darkness impairs visual sense, and perhaps that's what we need...to have our sight hindered, ergo we won't rely on it as much.

A myriad of things happen in the midst of darkness. The best way to realise them is to listen. The creak of a staircase. A muffled moan. The death rattle of a paint can emptying its contents. The fluttering of a newspaper. A crunch of feet on gravel. Powerful images...brought on by your auditory sense. You won't see them, but you know they are taking place. Right infront of your ears.

There is something uniquely essential about darkness. It provides us with a time of peace, if you let it. The world is gone, and all that is left is your thoughts. Concentration and the organisation of emotions becomes your sole purpose and you ar the taskmaster. Subsuming the darkness is quite an experience. Wrapping yourself in the blanket and basking in the apathetic anonymity...there's nothing quite like it. The sun recedes and everything is coloured in shades of grey. Don't get the wrong idea. The lack of light isn't an absensce of romance. The dark is extremely sensual.
The hairs on the back of your neck go haywire, you become overtly sensitive, and yet your motions lack grace and fluidity. Adrenaline is running, but not being put to productive use. The creation of graffiti happens after the sun goes down. The by-products of graffiti (web sites, magazines, videos, etc.) can never re-create the pure action and intent. After all, when the sun comes up, graffiti is beyond documentation.

(C) 2006 Sean Slater (Thanks StockCap!) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

I Bet That You Look Good On The Dancefloor...

2006-04-20T20:39:00.000-06:00

What was counter-culture is now over-the-counter culture.
Keep in mind that deviance is just another marketing tool. All forms of disconnection from society get sold back through shared notions of transgressive activity. A hidden community may quest for recognition of truth, but only in a rarefied, uncoded atmosphere can human truths be found. (Thank You, StockCap)

"We were different, just like all the other kids." - Greg Graffin

Can anyone pick up on a common theme between these two snippets? They both further their own points. There's no such thing as originality. There's no such thing as "normal" either...but it's practically impossible to be "Different". Take a look around you! Grassroots movements have turned into corporate entities, subcultures into the "In-Thing"...it's bloody ridiculous. The original "Punk" and "Goth" movements have been raped and defiled to the point where there are all kinds of store-chains that specialise in products dedicated to the respective "Scenes". The Punk movement especially is more of a mentality than anything. Sure, your majority of self-proclaimed punks dress with an anti-fashion style, with their studded wrist bands, ripped up jeans, band t-shirt...Wait, this sounds like most of the Caucasian population of my High-School. OH YEAH! I forgot...It's nothing more than a fashion style! You don't need to think on your own to wear a jacket with spikes and patches, or to wear a plaid. If a description such as the above fits you, you may now call yourself a Punk, right Vangie? I was lucky that my Middle School only had a few people who dressed as such, and almost all of them were true to the mentality. However, that's not the case with the rest of the world. In the opposite sense, look at my aquaintance, Greg Graffin. He's a 40-something year old single parent and has a phD on the end of his name, but he is more of a punk than half of North America will EVER be combined. He came on stage for Bad Religion's "The Empire Strikes First" tour in a purple dress shirt and black jeans...but every person who had a mohawk or a pair of combat boots on would bow down to him if he so asked them to.

But enough about Punk. The "Emo scene", was essentially just a thing that started in California...quiet people who felt they were more in touch with their feelings decided to make wimpy music (No offense...). Now it's become a huge phenomenon! Whether you wear jeans tight enough to force a man to tape his package to his leg, or if you're wearing a shirt that is small enough that it shows your nipple ring (there's seriously a guy with that style going on at M.E.L.)...or if you're on the opposite style of the spectrum, making fun of this so called "movement"...it's still affecting you in some form. It drives me to distraction (and rants worth Blogging)when I have someone point at my Coverse All-Stars and says "Man, those are so Scene! I think they're hott." WHAT THE HELL IS SCENE?! It's a NOUN! THE SCENE, A SCENE, ETC. ETC. It's not a phr34k1n' Adjective! Get it right, and stop calling me SCENE!! It's pronounced "SHAWN" (What an abominable spelling...)!

I'm joking about the last part, but the incident described above has occured...more than once. I'm not here to bash people, or say who can wear what...but really. The "In-Thing" is to be different. It just so happens that the people who want to be different have begun to outnumber those who don't, creating a brand new wave of "Normals". Wouldn't it just be nice if we could all just do what we wanted, wear what we wanted, listen to what we wanted...and not have to worry about being called Poseurs? I know I'm not one to talk, I used to think I was the best thing next to sliced bread and pockets on jeans. I was THE punk at Indian River...but only in my dress. I see now that I was being an idiot. I have no place to speak in a condescending manner of others...I'm guilty of the same crime as the next person. But I'd like to think that I've outgrown my stereotypes. In the infamous words of Greg Graffin: "Hooray for me, and Fuck you!"

The purpose of this post is...actually, I have no idea why I wrote it. Simply had an idea, and I wasn't able to express it as I would have liked to. Hopefully ya'll got the point. I have once again broken my formalities, I should get back to proper, clean posts...unless my readers prefer the more human and less perfectionistic rant. Tell me which.

(C) 2006 Sean Slater (Thanks StockCap and Greg) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

Ambiguity is not the same as Anonymity...what a shame.

2006-04-19T22:14:00.000-06:00

Feel free to use and abuse the following form letter. Make adjustments and alterations as you see fit. Here at Buford Industries, we feel the system is best served by calculated gestures of non-acquiescence:

Dear [insert your favorite local anti-graffiti press officer],

As a vital member, participant and team player in the human relay race, I find your unsportsmanlike conduct quite peculiar. While I'm hard at play trying to hit one out of the park for the team, you're preoccupied with holding me back. This leaves me completely puzzled.

Surely a strategist like yourself can appreciate the finesse and swagger a dedicated individual like myself displays.

Anyhow, I realize the laws we are coerced into abiding by (both formally and informally) require a deadening of the soul. I do not question the accepted norms that infuse society with the mindset that property is greater and more important than human spirit.

So the great mystery is solved. Everyone can go home now. The universal link between social and political systems is finally unveiled. It's the glue that's been keeping the façade up all this time, right before our eyes:

Compliance.

Unfortunately, I am past due on the utilities and regretfully must remit payment this month. However, feel free to contact me via any non-accepted means of process and consumption for future billing inquiries.

Sincerely,
[signed nobody special]
Cliché 379.5 At the feast of ego, everyone leaves hungry.

- Buford Youthward (AKA StockCap) From the Byline.

How To Spot A Writer...

2006-04-16T21:08:00.000-06:00

Graffiti: The Art Of Words

For most people the first thing that comes to their mind when they hear or see the word “Graffiti” is vandalism. They think of profane words and racial slurs scribbled in bathroom stalls and illegible names painted in downtown back-alleys. This is the unfortunate truth. Graffiti is not an ugly word. It is not considered a “Swear Word”, nor do we refer to it as the “G-Word”. As a technical definition, Graffiti is as follows: graffiti pl. (from Italian graffiare, "to scratch")
1. A scribbling on an ancient wall, as in Pompeii
2. A drawing or writing scratched on a wall or other surface
In fact, Graffiti isn’t actually Graffiti. It is Writing. “Graffiti” is the social term that was developed in the 1970’s for the culture. For years, it was referred to simply as “Writing”, and the people who took part in such acts were known as “Writers” (They still are today).
It wasn’t until much later that news articles surfaced, referring to their writing as "graffiti," and that the terminology latched itself onto the movement as the social name for it, as well as stigmatizing it into an abominable controversy.

In cities across North America, civic authorities detest graffiti and pour billions into Anti-Graffiti measures. On a quiet morning two months ago, New York’s Mayor Bloomberg took his paint roller and press corps to Williamsburg, a burgeoning node on the graffiti-writers' map that is now a target for intensified policing, punishment, and cleanup. "Even with limited resources, we are not going to walk away from the needs of this city," he said. "Graffiti poses a direct threat to the quality of life of all New Yorkers. It's not just an eyesore. It is an invitation to criminals and a message to citizens that we don't care."
The public eye sees graffiti as a plague, as shown by the above passage and the numerous businesses by the name of “Graffiti-Be-Gone” and the like. These businesses are created to paint over or “Buff” the unwanted forms of graffiti. Many of these businesses employ graffiti writers who have no problems ridding their city of the type of graffiti that gives the medium a bad name. These are the writers that are interested in the artistic aspect of graffiti. They originally started writing for the thrill induced by the idea of participating in an illegal activity, or to get their tag or “Blaze” name known. However, most popular writers are interested in the style and expressions used in graffiti. Much of the modern graffiti is written mainly for the sole purpose of getting the writer’s art seen. Some cities have even gone as far as putting up “Legal Walls”, or designated Graffiti Zones where writers can go out at any time of day and create pieces of art, provided they are not offensive, without being penalized. Many times, when construction sites are cordoned off with large plywood boards, local graffiti writers are invited to paint large “pieces”, short for Masterpiece, on the boards to make it visually pleasing. Many people see boards such as this, or see the same artwork done for galleries and enjoy it. They are amazed that such intricate works were created with a few cans of spray paint. It is unfortunate that their appreciation for the medium does not extend to those writers who cannot afford or do not have enough publicity to have their pieces placed in legitimate galleries. It is also disheartening that society encourages the well known writers to continue their escapades, yet it turns on writers who want nothing more than to practice and become as well known as others. Most people claim graffiti is vandalism, but when they see a legal piece of “Wildstyle” or a set of 3D bubble letters in an advertisement for a company they know, it is perfectly all right. It appears that the crime is not the art, but the area in which it is placed. It is a shame, because alleyways and parking lots would be much more pleasant to walk down if the colourful graffiti was left there, instead of being painted over with black and grey spots that are uglier than the graffiti ever could be.
The majority of graffiti is gang-related and leads to violent criminal activity. Anyone who knows anything about art, or has ever lived in a Canadian city knows that this is possibly the dumbest and most ill informed statement one could make. Yet in the mid nineties, this was the message being spread through the local media by police. The only people who stepped up to rebuke this claim were the masked graffiti writers. It was a case of the friendly local anchorman vs. the veiled vandal – there was no question who the public was going to believe. While gangs are known to mark their territory using spray paint, it is difficult to call it graffiti, and even harder to call it artistic. Once again, it generally involves the gang’s name on a fence; it takes no artistic talent or skill to write a name with a can of spray paint. It does, however, take practice, planning and a steady hand to create an enormous and immaculate mural that stretches the length of the side of a building.
Trains are another side of graffiti that are ignored by most. It is argued that modern graffiti has its roots in the New York Subway movement from the 1970’s. Once the Metropolitan Transit Authority (MTA) began using a corrosive solvent to clean all the paint off the subway trains writers began painting intercontinental freight trains. If you drive past any train yard you will see numerous rail cars with graffiti on them. They range from simple monotone outlines to multicolour “burners”. Trains provide more of a challenge for writers in that it is rarely possible to drive up to a train yard, walk in, and illegally paint or “Bomb” a train with impunity. Therefore, trains are much more interesting for thrill-seekers and writers who want to get their pieces seen across the country. It also makes the trains at least a little more interesting for train spotters. Given the minimum maintenance standards of modern railroads many train cars and even some engines are so faded and rusted that they could benefit from a fresh coat of paint. So in a sense, writers are helping rail companies. However, once again the public is biased on this aspect of it. People see a train with graffiti on it, and they don’t give it a second thought. Yet when they see graffiti in a back alley or on the back of an industrial warehouse it’s automatically gang related and must be painted over or buffed immediately.
The bottom line is that graffiti is a combination of illicit activity as well as a pure and standalone art form. The true writer gets a thrill out of the action that goes directly against the law, but also is able to paint his or her piece and feel proud of it at the end of the night.

Disequilibrium...The Strained Peace Of Duality

2006-04-07T17:22:00.000-06:00

This one is about Education. It has been pointed out to me that there is a problem with the current education system. I completely agree with Mr. Maroney on it. It takes us students from the age of like...eight, sticks us in a seat with a desk infront of us, forces a pencil into our right hand (I should've been a Leftie, were it not for my Kindergarten teacher...wretched hag) and crams information into our brains...(I swear, the only way it could be more violent is if they smashed it in our ears with a potato-masher...), and force us to regurgitate it onto a slim piece of paper with Circles to fill in with a No. 2 HB Pencil. Fascist pigs. This is not necessarily against the Teachers, although some of them are Nazis too...It's the universal idea that sticking the youth into schools will somehow make us the intelligent and upstanding individuals that people want to see. Don't make me laugh. How many times do I need to tell you people?! Nothing Worth Learning Can Be Taught. The most important thing I'm getting out of my school is an open mind...and that's from Mr. Maroney, who is so contrary to the school-board's ideas that you have to wonder how the hell he got hired! THATS IT!

Public Education does good, it teaches people the three R's. Read, Rite and 'Rithmetic. I once had a young student tell me that...Scares me to no end. How is that three R's...only one of them starts with an R for goodness' sake!
It kills people's curiosity. Not to mention, it makes people think within boxes. It constricts people's imaginations, tells them that Daydreaming is the Devil, and that scribbling stuff on a paper is more important than a proper social experience or your mental well-being. I saw it to the point of distraction in the States with the IB program. My (now Ex-) Girlfriend and her fellow IB students were and still are stressed to the point where simple things are harder to tackle for them than most people. I've seen it happen. And it forces people like them, and those close to them to have to walk on eggshells to make sure that they don't make a bad move and screw themselves over. It forces them to work to the point of exhaustion, killing their social life and their mental well-being...But they have a Damn good work ethic! What is the world coming to?!

The human race is in the middle of a crisis. We're killing ourselves...and not too slowly. And what is the education system doing to change this? Jack Squat! We've been teaching the same crap in rich countries' school's for Centuries...and look at the state of the world. Simple classification is so ingrained in our bodies and minds that it restricts us, and the education system only narrows it even further. We're in for it. We practically asked for it.

(C) 2006 Sean Slater (Thanks Maroney!) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs justified.

Egocentrism

2006-04-07T16:57:00.000-06:00

I have a question for you. One that takes more self-searching and questioning than you would think. The longer you ponder it, the less and less coherent your answer gets.

Why do we feel emotion?

I mean, I can understand regular senses. Sight- This is where I need to go. Sound- Oh, you're saying something. Touch- Hot Stove, Hmmm...OUCH! Smell- Mmmm...edible food. Taste- Yum! Definately edible.
But emotions...what purpose do they serve? Don't they just get in the way most of the time. The basis of all life is to reproduce and pass on your genes, and lust isn't an emotion...it's an instinctual drive, so that one's taken care of. So what are emotions really good for? Sure, we feel love, happiness, etc...but we also feel pain, loneliness, sadness, etc. And this idea brings me to another question...

Are emotions really worth it?

Sure, we feel love...and that's all fine and dandy, but is it worth all the extra emotions that accompany it? Nothing against love, not saying that it's Bad or anything...but looking at it from the rawest possible perspective...it's all simply emotions that don't really progress us anywhere. In fact, many people's psychological and social growth is stunted by love...be it that they want to think they're in love even though they have no idea what they're getting into, or that they were hurt by someone who they were in love with, and closed themselves off because of it.

Are all the good emotions, in life..not specifically love, worth the majority of the negative emotions we are constantly bombarded with and that we constantly emanate from ourselves? I don't know...and I don't think I'll ever have a concrete answer. But it's something I've been thinking about for a few days now...decided to put this whirlwind of memories and emotions, and my study of them to use, by making you think.
Sure, I rant, rave and complain...but at least I do it in a user-friendly way!

(C) 2006 Sean Slater (Thanks Maroney!) All Rights Reserved, All Wrongs Justified.

All Bets Are Off...

2006-04-05T19:30:00.000-06:00

The piano has been drinking
My necktie is asleep
And the combo went back to New York
The jukebox has to take a leak
And the carpet needs a haircut
And the spotlight looks like a prison break
'Cause the telephone's out of cigarettes
And the balcony's on the make
And the piano has been drinking
The piano has been drinking...

And the menus are all freezing
And the lightman's blind in one eye
And he can't see out of the other
And the piano-tuner's got a hearing aid
And he showed up with his mother
And the piano has been drinking
The piano has been drinking

'Cause the bouncer is a Sumo wrestler
Cream puff casper milk toast
And the owner is a mental midget
With the I.Q. of a fencepost
'Cause the piano has been drinking
The piano has been drinking...

And you can't find your waitress
With a Geiger counter
And she hates you and your friends
And you just can't get served
Without her
And the box-office is drooling
And the bar stools are on fire
And the newspapers were fooling
And the ash-trays have retired
The piano has been drinking
The piano has been drinking
The piano has been drinking
Not me, not me, not me, not me, not me...

- "The Piano Has Been Drinking (Not Me)(An Evening With Pete King)" by Tom Waits

Sensation & Objection...Love is nothing if it's no honest, so Scotty should know.

Holding to the belief that we know someone to the T, says more about us than anything about them...Remember that.