Is There A Ghost In My House?

I mentioned previously in this blog that I haven't been writing as much original content lately. With this blog I've been sharing various things that I've discovered and that I have been thinking about. I've also been reading about how to promote a blog, how to get followers, and how to make money blogging. While I don't really mind if I make money from this blog, it's just a way for me to express myself and hopefully get other people excited about many of the things I enjoy, I would eventually like to get paid for things I've written. I've been posting a lot of links to "self help" and inspirational articles and blogs that I liked, and I've noticed that they seem to generate a lot of traffic. I've struggled with the idea of what sort of commercial blog I might like to write and what might generate some income for me. I read that the most popular commercial blogs offer their readers the opportunity to learn something, and that you need to have lively, and original content. I didn't think for a while that I had anything like that to offer, or that I would be able to write something like that and stay excited about it. After posting those links it kinda came to me. I could create an inspirational or self-help type blog!

I've spent many years going to therapy, and I've read a whole shit ton of of self help and inspirational books. Not only have I done those things I've also improvised and created numerous strategies, both on my own and with assistance, for navigating life and I believe that I could successfully share those strategies in a manner that I could get excited about while hopefully creating an audience and generate a small income. My girlfriend suggested that I could specifically write about when to know to seek help for depression and other mental issues. I'm pretty excited about the potential of this idea. I really doubt that I could make enough money off of this potential blog to support myself, but I think it's something I could really make interesting, fun, and informative.

On a similar note, I've also been working hard at promoting my blogs online using social media, and I've joined and begun participating in several blog promotion sites. I realized that while this is fun, and hopefully is a good way to get involved, I also know that I need to narrow my focus to a small handful of these sites, and get back to the task of writing. I'm also contemplating a name change for the blog, and I'm open to suggestions from anyone who reads my stuff. If you have a good idea please email me or comment on the blog and share it with me!

Blaster the Rocketman- I like Lycanthropy(Lyrics)

Zen Punk - A Radical Approach to Buddhism

When you think of Buddhism, what comes to mind? Images of monks or nuns with shaved heads and saffron robes? Maybe a statue of Hotei (often referred to as the fat Buddha) at your local Chinese restaurant?

Well, friends and lovers, a new face has emerged on the Buddhist scene. This new Buddhist has a fine collection of body ink (that's tattoos, for those of you in North Dakota), piercings, black t-shirts with skulls, and will as likely sport blue liberty spikes as a shaved head.

What's that you say? Punk and Buddhism mingling? That's like combining chocolate with peanut butter, Trekkies with Bikers, a houndstooth coat with flip flops! It's not natural! It violates the laws of nature!

Zen Punk - A Radical Approach to Buddhism

28 Dignified Ways to Impress Everyone Around You

Far more often than any of us like to admit, our actions are driven by an inner desire to impress other people. This desire is often reflected in the brand name products we use, the bars and restaurants we frequent, the houses and cars we buy and the careers we choose.

But are name brand products, fancy bars, houses and cars really that impressive? What about a person who holds an elite position in a career field they dislike? Some of these things might capture our attention for a minute or two, but they won’t hold it for long.

Why? Because tangible possessions are not as impressive as intangible qualities.

Consider the following questions:

Read more:
28 Dignified Ways to Impress Everyone Around You

Fear of the Dark!

I haven't written anything original in my blog(s) for several weeks. I've been anxious, busy, and uninspired. My friend Jon has told me that I just need to sit down and write. I know he's right, of course, I'm just afraid that if I do that without proper preparation, and the genuine desire to create, that what comes out will just be uninspired drivel. I'm determined to overcome that attitude and fear.

So today I sit in front of (or would it be under?) my laptop and I write. The other day I found an article that discussed how enthusiasm can get in the way of finishing projects. How Enthusiasm Was Secretly Sabotaging My Results. The author of the article, much like myself, finds that they often have numerous projects just waiting to be finished, and that they don't lack for creative ideas. The problem, they say, is that they have so many ideas, and they get so excited about the next project, they never manage to complete them all. I have an entire Word document full of writing ideas, and I've started a few of them, but have not managed to finish any of them just yet. I'm a procrastinator and I know that the main reason I do put off tasks is because I'm something of a perfectionist. If I can't do something well, often, I find that I have no desire to do it at all. I'm afraid I don't have the skills, talent, and genuine desire to complete these writing ideas.

The author's solution to overcoming these kinds of distractions is simple, and it's something I've been learning about for some time. The author says that we need to focus on each step of the creative process and to forget all of the other steps. Break down things into smaller parts and to plan out each step. This reminds me of Zen and how important it is to focus on where you're at and what you're doing at the present moment, rather than allowing your thoughts to become jumbled and allowing yourself to chase off after stray ideas. I've decided that from now on I'm going to set aside a specific time each week to tackle one of those ideas and see it to completion. The actual time each week may vary, and may have to be worked around the responsibilities I have. But I am going to do it.

On another note I recently started a new job, and I have received calls about several more. I'm also waiting to hear about yet another interview that I went to last week. At least one of the jobs would be drastically different from anything I've done in the past. I would be in more of an admin type role and would have a variety of tasks to complete everyday, rather than performing the same function over and over and over all day. This possibility appeals to me for many reasons. The industry that I have allowed myself to become a part of requires not only, that one perform the same tasks repetitively, but also that one maintain a level of enthusiasm. Sometimes I fantasize about having a job that would allow me the freedom to move about, perform different functions regularly, and that would give me the chance to learn new things and to become proficient at them. I would also like a job where it's okay to be a real human being, to have real emotions, and to express them. I don't know if this job would really allow me to do all of that, but I think it would be a good opportunity for me to try something different from the customer service field and hopefully to see other opportunities and give me a chance to grow.

How to Overcome Jealousy

How to Overcome Jealousy

I Am So In Love With My Wife! A Short Essay On Karma and Relationships

I Am So In Love With My Wife! A Short Essay On Karma and Relationships

‪Jon Spencer Blues Explosion - Dang - Beavis & Butthead‬‏ - YouTube

‪Jon Spencer Blues Explosion - Dang - Beavis & Butthead‬‏ - YouTube: ""

Misfats - The fattest Misfits tribute band ever!

Misfats - The fattest Misfits tribute band ever!

I Was A Teenage Werewolf - The Cramps

Who Am I?

My name is Rob Clark. I am a writer, an artist, a podcaster,and a humanitarian.

Sometimes it’s weird for me to refer to myself as a writer or as an artist. For a long time I would tell friends that I liked to write, but wasn’t a writer. I would also say that I liked to draw but just doodled. I used to think that just because I had never been published, or that because my artwork had never been shown in a gallery that I wasn’t an artist or a writer. I felt that since I had no formal training in either area that I wasn’t allowed to use such language to describe myself. Now I no longer feel that is true. For a few years, I have read about and participated in the underground punk scene, and have experienced the Do It Yourself ethic for myself. This ethic says that one should not rely on anyone else to confirm your experience or to create something for you. Instead it says you should go out and create your own thing. Create your own music scene, do your art for free, create a magazine, put on shows, open a performance and art space. Don’t worry if anyone else thinks you’re good enough, do it anyway. You can create your own way of living that is independent of society’s norms. This is the very heart of the DIY ethic. Because of my experience with this culture, I have decided to embrace the language of what I believe I am. I have felt emboldened by these concepts and in this spirit I have decided to work on myself and become the person that I know I can be.

I am a humanitarian because I believe that no one is beyond redemption. I can’t save everyone but I can point them in the right direction. The twelve step traditions say that you can’t change other people but that you can change yourself. I believe that taking care of yourself and nurturing yourself is the most important thing anyone can do. I am a humanitarian because I believe in the oneness of the universe and in the family of humanity

Amy

“Mikey I really don’t wanna talk about this right now. I have to study and so do you.” Amy said, her voice cold and distant through the phone.

“Fine! Why don’t you just go fuck yourself bitch!” I slammed the phone down. But just as soon regretted what I’d said and picked the phone back up and started dialing her number again. The phone rang without an answer. Defeated I put the phone back down and slumped into my chair.

“Fucking bitch. Why’d she have to do this to me now?” I asked the air, choking back sobs.

I put one hand on the window and leaned against it with tears streaming down my face. The day was crisp and sunny, the leaves on the trees outside my window were just beginning to turn orange and brown and red and a slight breeze blew across the courtyard below. I stood up and walked over to the window.

The phone rang. I picked it up and before I said hello I knew it wasn’t Amy. I could hear loud music in the background and people shouting.

“Mikey!” Jimmy shouted into my ear. I wiped my nose on my sleeve and answered.

“How’s it going?”

“Good. How are you? Are you sick? You sound a little out of it.”

“I’m okay. Amy and I just broke up. This time I think it’s for real.”

“Oh man. That’s too bad. Why’d you break up this time?”

“She says she has to focus on her school career and doesn’t have time for a boyfriend right now. I think she’s lying to me. I saw her with someone else last week.”

“Jesus dude. What a cunt. Well listen man we’ll get you laid at the party tomorrow and you’ll forget all about that bitch. Are you gonna be okay for practice tonight? The shows gonna be great, lotsa foxy women. We’ll give ‘em your sob story and get you laid!”

“Yeah I’ll be fine. I’ll see ya tonight man. Later.”

I love Jimmy. He’s my best friend and we’ve known each other for years now, but he’s not the most sensitive dude I know. Maybe I should be more like him. He doesn’t go through this shit. Hell he doesn’t have a girlfriend and gets laid all the time. He doesn’t even fucking study and makes straight A’s. What a prick. Still, he’s stuck by me and been a great friend. I would like to get laid tomorrow night too. The show would be fun too. It was just a backyard show at a frat house, but there would be a lot of booze, pot, and hot chicks there. Chicks usually wanna give it up to a dude in band.

Hell I hadn’t seen Amy in a few weeks and I need to cut loose, and maybe he’s right. Maybe it will help me forget that bitch and all the shit she’s put me through.

She had cheated  at least twice that I know of and broke up with me five times in the year we had been going out. All of her constant head games and bullshit just made me want to be with her even more. I wanted to have her and prove to her that I was good enough for her. Jesus what a glutton for punishment I am!

I spent the day goofing around, playing video games and getting progressively more drunk before practice. When I showed up on my ten speed Jimmy gave me a concerned look, but didn’t say anything. What I remember of practice was fun. We had a full mini-fridge of Pabst Blue Ribbon, and I just continued drinking.

Jimmy and the rest of the guys in the band had been playing their instruments for a long time and were pretty good for a college punk band. I was the joke of the band though. I couldn’t play a note. Jimmy had tried to teach me a few things; enough that I could fake it if no one was really paying any attention, but I really couldn’t keep up with the rest of the guys in the band. But like Sid Vicious before me I was a show off onstage and the quality of the sound combined with the ambient noise of the crowd and our own unique brand of racket was bad enough that no one ever said a thing. Most of the time my amp wasn’t even in the mix.

The night of the show we tore through a set made up of covers and a few original songs. You really can’t get gigs playing original songs in a college town. I was already half tanked by the time the set ended. I wandered off the small stage and around the yard spying a couple of hotties in the corner. I decided I’d try and talk to them.

And that’s when I was accosted by Roy. Roy was about 40, busted and gray. He was wearing a blue bandana over long stringy hair, a drab green military jacket, over a gray shirt, flowered shorts, black socks and Birkenstocks.

“Man, you guys were fucking great! I love your bass playing. How long have you guys been together?” he said leaning uncomfortably close to my face reeking of beer, sweat, and slightly of shit.

“Thanks man. We’ve been playing for a few months now.” I said while trying to locate those girls and extricate myself from this leech. He was harshing my buzz and probably ruining my chances of getting laid. The guy introduced himself to me and gave me a big hug.

“I’m Roy! And I love you!” He released me but continued to stand too close.

“I mean it man! You’re like the greatest bass player ever! The way that thump hit my heart I thought my chest was gonna explode! The way you hit those notes!” I glanced around wondering if Roy had not just wandered in from a neighboring bar or party and was so drunk that he had mixed up our set with that of another band.

I told Roy I saw some friends that I needed to talk to but like a puppy Roy only followed me still singing my praises.  Being a nice guy and not wanting to look like a douche in front of some cute girls by punching an even drunker person in the face or subject the girls to Roy I walked by them and started looking for my band mates.

I spotted Jimmy and must have approached him with a “help me!” look on my face because as soon as he saw Roy he laughed out loud.

“How goes it, man?” he asked, and offered me a beer.

“It’s good, man…” Roy began, but trailed off as I turned my back on him, trying to join Jimmy’s circle of women. You’d think he’d get the hint, right? But not old Roy. He just stood there patiently his eyes swimming and his body slightly swaying.

Jimmy whispered into my ear.

“Who is that dude?”

“I don’t know but he won’t fucking leave me alone!”

“Hey man. Hey.” Roy said. I slightly turned to him and looked at him with what I hoped was a look of disgust. But good old Roy was unfazed. “You wanna smoke a joint with me?”

I sighed. I did want to get high and the girls weren’t paying any attention to me now that I had this disgusting old fuck attached to me.

“Sure man.” I shrugged and followed Roy him over around the corner of the house.

Roy sat by the side of the house and pulled the biggest fattest joint out of his pocket that I had ever seen (no kidding, this thing was a zeppelin), jammed it in the corner of his mouth, and lit it. The fumes alone had my head swimming. I sat down next to him.I knew it was going to fuck my shit up, but I didn’t care. After the couple of days I’d had, the idea of getting baked seemed excellent. Roy passed the joint and I took a few tokes.

“So Roy what do you do for a living man?” I asked. The pot had loosened my tongue and relaxed my attitude toward Roy some.

“Shit, I work for my old man doing drywall. It’s okay. I can’t fucking complain, and hell who’d listen anyway. How ‘bout you dude? You seem a little down. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” That fucking bitch. I thought.

“Ya know man, life ain’t so bad. Look at me dude. My wife left me six months ago. My dog died and my kids hate my ass. My life is like a goddamn country song. But hell man I just keep rolling.” Roy took another big puff from the joint and passed it to me. “You know The Doors said it best I think, ‘The futures uncertain and the end is always near.’ Shit you can’t control the future and you sure as fuck can’t do anything about the past. You may as well just live for today.”

Roy’s arrogance irritated me a little, but maybe it was the pot and maybe the late night and my lost chances of getting laid, but what he’d said also made some sense. I spent so much time worrying about Amy accepting me that I never really got to know her. I don’t think she ever really loved me. Fuck. Too much to think about right now.

I looked over at Roy from my reverie and noticed that not only had he passed out, but he’d pissed his pants too.

“Shit. What am I gonna do about this fuck now?”

My brain was clouded by the pot haze and did nothing to assuage my pain and the new level of guilt I felt. Amy never really loved me, and even though I thought I loved her I didn’t. Not really. It was just the thrill of the chase that got me so excited about her; every time she pushed me away I just came back hotter than before. Maybe if I’d spent the time we had together really there and in the moment we’d still be together?  Oh hell maybe I would have just had a good time?

It was all secondary to the moment, though. I’d have time to hurt later. For now, I had to figure out what to do with Roy.

I wandered inside the house and found the nearest phone. I didn’t want to fuck the party up, but I also didn’t want Roy to die passed out in a corner. I dialed 911 and told them about the passed out guy and where he was at and made my exit from the party.

I woke up early the next morning. The sun was up and the sky was clear blue and beautiful. I  opened my window and let the crisp cool air come into my room. I picked up the phone and called dialed Amy’s number again.

Finally her voice mail picked up, as I had expected. I spoke:.

“Amy, I’m really sorry about everything I said and did. I hope you’ll forgive me and I hope you have a good life. Goodbye.” I sat in front of my window for a long time before I picked up my books and started studying. “The future’s uncertain and the end is always near.” Goddamn right.

My So Called Punk Life

On my desk I have an Elvis bobble head; a Guitar Hero figure that looks a lot like a black metal dude, a picture of me and Suzy, an Ozzy figure, a copy ofPunk Rock Dad, a book of Psychobilly ‘zines, an art pad and the latest issue of Razorcake. All of those things say Punk rock to me.

When I was in my early twenties I desperately wanted to be a punker. But I never had the resources to realize this goal. I tried changing my hair; my clothes, and my attitude. I was already listening to a few Christian Punk bands like The Crucified and Fluffy but I wasn’t familiar with real punk. I would read about punk bands in magazines and books. Then I would go out and buy cheap used cassettes of bands like X, The Ramones, Black Flag, Bad Religion, David Bowie, The Cure, Nirvana, Bauhuas, and Shonen Knife, or anything even remotely related to punk. I really enjoyed a lot of that music and still listen to it.

At the time I didn’t understand the difference between hardcore punk, glam rock, pop punk, proto-punk, or post punk so some of the stuff I found confused the hell out of me. I didn’t understand how these bands could sound so different from one another and yet be called punk. Nevertheless, the music, the attitude and the look made an indelible impression on me.

I was never able to dress like a punk though. I dressed like a cross between a Deadhead, a Metal-head, and a Grunge rocker. I still listened to Heavy Metal, Alternative, Classical music, movie soundtracks and Classic Rock, but Punk ruled my world. Eventually someone called me a Hippy-punk, and the name kinda stuck.

I couldn’t tell you all the reasons I wanted to “go punk” back then. I think it was because I was young, angry, bitter and nihilistic. I was also probably extremely bored. In addition, my core identity has always been sort of weak, and malleable. My boundaries were even weaker when I was younger than they are now. Trying on new personas in an attempt to find one that fit, was once a lifelong pursuit. It’s only been within the last few years that I’ve felt comfortable enough to just be myself and not hide behind a mask.

The year I turned 37 I went through several major life changes. I began to realize just how close to forty I was. I like to think of this time period in my life as the beginning of my mid-life crisis. I was starting to get gray hair, I had bushy eyebrows, and hair in really weird places. I realized that my plan to hang on to my youth and act like I was forever in my twenties would only work for a few more years. I also realized that if I kept dressing the way I did it would look strange and embarrassing when I was in my forties. I had just moved and in the process of moving I found many items that I didn’t remember owning. I felt like I was rummaging through the detritus of a failed life when I attempted to organize all of my shit. I didn’t have a lot of friends at the time and I was bored. I starting looking for something to occupy my time.

This time though, not only did I have the money for the wardrobe that I had always wanted, I was finally able to buy “punk” clothes that would fit. When I was in my 20′s I was never able to find punk clothes that fit me. But now everyone in America is fat, and cool clothes come in XX-Large sizes! I’ve been a clothes whore for a long time now, and the chance to indulge myshopping monkey turned me on. I realized I only had a few years left to dress like a dork before middle age and embarrassment set in for good. So I decided to try a punk look again before it was too late.

But instead of just trying on a superficial look and attitude that I thought was punk, I was able to delve deep into the underground. I wanted to know what the punk scene was really all about. I started reading Maximum Rock and Roll, and Razorcake. I read Sit Down and Shut Up! by Brad Warner, Dharma Punx by Noah Levine, and every coffee table book, magazine, or website I could find on Punk Rock and the DIY ethic. I bought a bunch of punk documentaries on DVD, and pulled out a bunch of my old punk stuff and started listening to it again. I started hanging out with people in the Denver Punk Scene and went to a bunch of punk shows. Finally, I was able to write for an underground punk ‘zine! I was no longer a wannabe. I have been accepted. “Gabba gabba, one of us, one of us!”

During this exercise I learned a lot about the underground punk movement. I learned that the punk scene, at its best, should espouse individuality, self-expression, coöperation, community, and the freedom to express one’s self heedless of talent or skill. For most of my life I have created things just for fun. I love to make punk inspired collage art, keep a journal, and draw.

I’ve learned from the punk scene that I can do things that other people can’t. I have also learned that I don’t need mass approval or recognition to see myself as a legitimate artist. I learned that being a punk means willingly being outside of mainstream society, but that this doesn’t automatically make one an outlaw or a miscreant. Noah Levine and Brad Warner love to say that the Buddha was the original punk rocker. He was a rebel who wasn’t satisfied with things as they were, and set out on his own path to reach enlightenment. I realized that even the anarchists in the punk scene had a distinct system of values and morals based on personal responsibility.

Being a punk to me means being confident, being willing to challenge society’s norms, to challenge one’s self, being responsible for one’s self and having the courage to create in the face of an often cynical and destructive world. How do we find our voice in a corporate/consumer society? I think punk answers that question with grit and with strength. Punk says DIY. Punk says that everyone has a voice and can create. All it take is guts. If there isn’t a scene make a scene. If you want to create, don’t wait for someone else to give you the opportunity. Create the opportunity. Open a performance space, a studio, start a gallery or a ‘zine, write a book, paint, start a band, become a roadie, or do spoken word. Whatever you do, do it with fire and passion.

Mr. Sparky

It’s an amazing wonderful thing (why are you so small?)

It provides me with many hours of entertainment and pleasure (why won’t you do what you’re told!?)

It’s a fantastic thing (I wish you were bigger!)

It both gives and receives pleasure (why won’t you do what you’re supposed to do?)

It’s wonderfully efficient and useful (who are you kidding?)

It’s the best thing in the world (I can’t imagine being without it.)

Wasted Years

In the late 80’s I listened to a Christian Metal band called Barren Cross. Barren Cross had a lead singer who resembledBruce Dickinson from Iron Maiden both sonically and physically. Their sound was similar to what Iron Maiden might have sounded like had they gone both Christian and Glam Metal at the same time.

The first time I heard an Iron Maiden album I thought it was a Barren Cross album that I had never heard before. I was sitting alone in a friend’s car and it was on his tape deck. I don’t remember what he was doing but he was gone for a while. When he came back he told me what the album really was. It was many years before I would listen to Iron Maiden again. The next time I was exposed to the band it was due to a roommate who owned several of their albums.

For a long time I liked the song Die With Your Boots On only ironically. I wouldn’t listen to anything else by them. After I listened to that song for a while and read about the band inRevolver magazine I began to develop more of an interest in them. I bought the Essential Iron Maiden two disc set, and put it on my iPod and began to listen to it over and over. Finally I got several more of their albums and began to listen to them in earnest.

Over the last year I’ve been listening to the song Wasted Years a lot. Objectively the song is about someone missing their wife or girlfriend, and how he regrets leaving her behind to go on tour. But the chorus has taken on a new meaning for me lately.

So understand
Don’t waste your time
Always searching for those wasted years
Face up…make your stand
And realize you’re living in the golden years
Wasted Years by Iron Maiden

These lyrics remind me not to regret my own wasted years. I spent years crazily bipolar and depressed. These were years where I didn’t do much but sit around the house surfing the internet for hours on end. I didn’t date, and I didn’t have too many friends. I had no goals or aspirations and I had no direction.

It’s only now that I’ve begun to date again and to truly live that I see what I was missing. I was lonely, but I preferred the loneliness to the uncertainty of relationships and to the possibility of rejection. Now my life is so full and joyful. I have a great woman and a great deal of direction and aspirations. If I let myself I could spend a lot of time regretting all that time I spent alone and directionless and not get anywhere in the present. I think a lot of my mid-life crisis was about regretting the past and trying to make up for time I had lost.

The chorus also reminds me a lot of Zen Buddhism. Zen philosophy says that we should live in the present moment not looking to the past or looking toward the future. The past no longer exists, and the future hasn’t happened. Zen also teaches that we should be fully conscious of the present moment. I feel now that I am living in “the golden years” at the present and instead of viewing the past as a source of regret or as a prediction of future failure for myself, I plan on living fully in the present and enjoying everything that life throws my way.

The music of Iron Maiden is bombastic, operatic, and triumphant. They write lyrics about oppressed people like the Native Americans, and about life on the road touring with an equal ease. They’re the perfect soundtrack for a boring day at work, or sitting at home alone with nothing else to do. I like to put it on sing along and headbang. Their music can lift me from the mundane and elevate me to a godlike status, if only for a moment. But what a beautiful moment that is.

The Freedom Manifesto by Tom Hodgkinson

Tom Hodgkinson is the founder of the bi-annual book sized magazine, The Idler. The Idler’s stated philosophy is one of bringing dignity back to the art of loafing. Tom is also an anarchist, who believes the state hinders human relations and creates, rather than prevents, the problems that people face in modern society. His philosophy espouses personal responsibility, honor, self-sufficiency, and civility. Rather than being a radical who believes that the government should be overthrown in favor of chaos, Hodgkinson states that “the true radical will create their own society existing alongside of the state and will laugh at the folly of those chasing promotions, a pension, and cheap consumer goods.” He calls for the truly free to enjoy life and to “eat, drink, and be merry.”

The Freedom Manifesto is a fascinating book, and is hard to put down once you pick it up. It is full of many practical ways in which the individual can practice anarchism in his or her own life.

I laughed at the cheek in which Tom presents his philosophy. His delivery is flawless and engaging. The author often comes across as idealistic and a throwback to so-called “better times”, but he embraces his anachronistic stance. He claims that looking to the past is preferable to looking to a future which has not yet happened, because the past has happened, it has been proven to work, and to be workable. He draws on such influences as French existentialists, beat poets, hippies, yippies, medieval thinkers, Taoism, St. Augustine, and other anarchists.

This book speaks to my deep dissatisfaction over being a member of a consumer culture and feeling a great deal of pressure to define myself as a successful person because I have managed to scrape up the rungs of the corporate ladder at a mind-numbing, soul-crushing job or, worse yet, become subservient to the same corporation with no mind, no will, and no voice of my own. As an alternative to the competition inherent in such a system, Hodgkinson says cooperation should be embraced instead. Oddly enough, the author of The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, by Stephen R. Covey says that people should embrace cooperation over competition as a means to achieve success. I found the irony hilarious.

Hodgkinson calls for a return to the guild system, in which members all worked to protect each other and their craft instead of competing with one another.

He says that one should refuse to define oneself by anyone else’s expectations. He tells his readers to free themselves from the corporate-consumer-debt culture. He also says to grow your own food, make your own culture, create a society within society, be fully responsible for yourself, and learn to live on less. He continues on to suggest being more creative, civil, and polite, and keeping a careful record of where and how you spend your money. Hodgkinson urges us to live in the moment, to realize life is absurd so make your own meaning. Most of all, embrace life for all its imperfections and just enjoy it.

As much as I enjoyed the book, I cannot fully endorse anarchism for the entire world or even certain individuals, especially not in the world as it is now. Anarchism, along with libertarianism and socialism, all appeal to me. These systems assume that humanity is good; that people would cooperate and learn to look out for one another if only the government or other oppressive forces would get out of the way. I suppose I’m a pessimist, and it could also be argued that such a system as pure socialism or pure anarchism has never truly been tried and proven wrong, but I believe that humanity is evil and there will always be people who abuse their freedoms, oppress their fellow man, and take advantage of those weaker than themselves. M. Scott Peck, another author whom I greatly admire, was once asked what human nature was. He stated that it was human nature to shit one’s pants, but one can be taught to overcome and transcend this basic behavior. I know many people cannot assume full responsibility of their lives and cannot be trusted to be kind and civil to those around them; people like addicts, sex offenders, and the greedy. Regardless, I believe this book has helped me gain a respect for myself and those people who call themselves idlers. These people are hard-working, creative, and respectable. I did enjoy the book and I would recommend it to anyone who is looking for an engaging and fun read, or to anyone looking for a different perspective on life and for an alternative to the all-encompassing American consumer culture. But I would recommend caution before fully embracing anarchy as a way of life for everyone.

Sanctuary

This room is a sanctuary

It is often filled with my laughter

My anger

A calm place to read a book

Where I am comfortable being nude with you

It’s where I like to kiss your lips like wine

It’s where I’ve wrestled with your incubus nightmare

The place I had to escape from in order to forget

Finding The Divine In Modern Music

I have a theory that there is a participatory quality to popular music (and to most art) that unites the audience and the artist. In this theory there are two experiences of the art that combine and create a third phenomenon that transcends its base elements. First there is the objective meaning, or what the artist intended when they created the art. Then there’s the subjective meaning which is entirely dependent upon the audience’s own biases and experiences.

The song Show of Strength by the bandEcho and the Bunnymen serves a certain function in my life that perfectly demonstrates this process. Something both triumphant and yet mournful about the mix of music and vocals of this song evokes a response that in my deepest moments gives me cause to celebrate and exult in life, and at other times it has caused me to cry and grieve. I’ve read the lyrics to the song and listened to it many times, but I still couldn’t tell you what the song is about. What are the artist’s intentions? I don’t know. But I do know that the song touches a part of my soul that sympathizes and yearns for truth as much as the artist who wrote the song must have.

There’s a melancholy wistful element inherent to the sound of bands like Social Distortion, The Gaslight Anthem, The Murder City Devils, Alkaline Trio and Against Me!, that made their music the perfect soundtrack for many of my relationships over the past few years. A similar quality also made them the perfect balm for many of the wounds that I suffered when those relationships ended. It is true that the lyrics to many of the songs by these bands often deal with heartbreak; breakups and growing up and growing on. But it is my argument that separate from the lyrics there is an overarching mood and feeling created by the tone and music of these bands that make them serve my stated use. Often I didn’t even pay attention to the lyrics or the entirety of the lyrics while listening to these bands. Yet I felt both energized and soothed by their music.

The Foo Fighters song I’ll Stick Around is another song that has a very special personal meaning to me that is perhaps independent of the artist’s intentions. On the surface the lyrics appear to be about the pain and hurt feelings Dave Grohl suffered after Kurt Cobain’s suicide. It could also be about a relationship with a woman that went south. Without doing some research or speaking to Dave this is another song where I couldn’t tell you what the artist’s true intentions were. For me it has it’s own meaning.

In my life I’ve often allowed myself to become involved in some painful and somewhat abusive relationships. I think in many ways I was trying to heal the wounds of childhood and of growing up with two people who were most probably narcissists. By allowing myself to become involved with other abusive and narcissistic people, I think I was trying to make them love me, and by doing so to overcome the circumstances of my childhood. I’ve also been suicidal in the past and felt trapped and controlled by some of these relationships. The refrain “I’ll stick around, I’ll stick around” in the same song reflects my own resolve to never succumb to my suicidal tendencies. The chorus “I don’t owe you anything” reminds me of my own efforts to escape from these situations and to live my life. Is this what Dave Grohl intended when he wrote the song? Probably not, but this is what the song means to me.

This is what good art does. Whether it is poetry; a novel, a painting, a sculpture, or a really good song, good art allows the audience to become a participant in the art. The participant’s impressions of good art aren’t always what the artist intended, but that’s where its beauty and power lie. The participant’s own perspective; experience and internal biases or dialogue color what they are experiencing. By involving the imagination of the participant good art can, at least momentarily, take one out of oneself and invoke the numinous. One may feel as if their soul has been lifted from the mundane and humdrum world and allowed to participate in the unity of  the universe when engaging in good art. This is what music does for me.

Punk Rock Dad by Jim Lindberg

Jim Lindberg is an author; father, husband, and the former lead singer of the punk band Pennywise. In Punk Rock Dad Jim discusses his struggle to reconcile being a punk rocker while at the same time being a responsible and attentive father in an engaging and humorous way.

I enjoyed this book, and it resonated with me on many levels. I have just entered a new phase in my life that is similar to the one Jim describes in his book. Almost nine months ago I began dating and eventually moved in with a beautiful woman who has two small children. For most of my adult life I have been single and lived as a bachelor. For the past several years I have spent much of my time hanging out with friends, going to shows, writing and partying. Suddenly, after living like a “crazy man” for many years, I find myself living the life of a married man with two children. Adjusting to this new lifestyle has been both challenging and rewarding. Jim says that the frustrations of life with children often drive him out of the house where he attends punk shows, moshes, and drinks. I have found myself in a similar position several times. When I’ve had enough of the irritations of life with children I have left the house to attend shows or to just hang out with my friends playing video games, smoking and cursing. Jim says that it’s these times that allow him to recharge his batteries and to cope with life at home without blowing up.

His devotion to his children is always clear despite these struggles. He states that, “The active role I’ll be able to take in helping boost our kids’ self-esteem is never giving up in the search to find something that interests them. I can turn them onto music by buying them a secondhand guitar or drum set, get them involved in sports by taking them to basketball games or skate contests, or go down to the tide pools and try to get them interested in marine biology. If you haven’t introduced your child to all these things in an endless search to help them find something they’re interested in, you haven’t done your job.” In one endearing and touching passage Jim describes how his children complained that he no longer played with them. They build a tent in the backyard, and stay up all night playing games.

Not all of his efforts at punk rock parenting succeed, but the author seems to understand some very real and sometimes hard truths about being an adult. Many of these truths seem at odds with the punk lifestyle, but the author says they are important to teach to his children. Jim explains that “At a certain age we begin to realize that, like it or not, there are some rules that will keep you alive. We find out that our happiness-or at least staying out of really shitty situations-is eventually what becomes most important in life, and it’s hard to be happy when you’re in jail, on skid row, or dead.”

Jim was, like me, also middle-aged when he wrote this book. Also like me he dresses much like he did when he was fourteen. “Levis 501s, Vans slip-ons, and a surf shop T-shirt and baseball cap.” He believes that his own refusal to grow up and dress and behave like other typical middle-aged adults gives him a unique perspective on life. He believes that because of his lifestyle that he can bridge the generation gap with his children, and eventually realize the dream of a better world envisioned by punk rock. Jim declares, “If instead of forcing our religions, dogmas, and short-sighted way of thinking on them, we could encourage to them to think for themselves, and show them how to be gracious and tolerant, rather than selfish, and close-minded, maybe we could in fact make this world a better place, simply by being good parents. Wasn’t this supposed to be the underlying goal of punk music in the first place that we were to expose society for the sham it was, in the dim hopes of replacing it with a better one?”

Jim’s passion for music and for punk ideals is clear through the entire book. He says that punk, “Is not a fashion or an age, but a way of looking at the world and finding your place in it, and like country, rock ‘n’ roll, blues and hip hop, it’s going to be around a long time, as long as someone isn’t willing to settle for the status quo and has an amplifier and guitar to tell the world about it.”

It could be debated whether Jim has achieved his goal of balancing his punk ideals with his attitudes about adulthood and responsibility, but his clear love for his family is never hidden. His passion and love for his subjects and his passion for life also come through clearly in the book. It’s refreshing to read something by someone so in love with his family and with his punk rock roots. I enjoyed this book and would recommend it to anyone who struggles with remaining true to their punk rock ideals while trying to balance that want with the goal of being a good parent. I would also suggest it to people looking to read something fun but with a good heart and a unique perspective on life.

Would R2D2 Make The Best Companion In The World?

I’ve been thinking a lot about pets and friends lately. My girlfriend has a cat and a dog. A lot of my friends have pets as well. I haven’t had a pet of my own in over a decade. I know I’m a big Star Wars nerd and my girlfriend says I’m nuts but I think an R2 unit would probably make the greatest pet or companion ever!

Think about it. Not only do you not have to walk him or clean up after him but he would also be extremely useful to have around. He’s like a Swiss Army knife, filled with tools and gadgets. He can clean. He can serve as a security device and protect you and your family. He’s cute. He’s funny. With the help of a translator he can talk, and if you don’t have a translator you can just ignore what he’s saying. But he can communicate even without a translator. Those little beeps and whistles convey mood. He can fix things. Even though I’ve never seen him do it I assume he could cook. He can fix and communicate with electronics. Hell he can even play space chess, or whatever the hell it was he and Chewie were playing!

My girlfriend reminded me last night that he’s a fictional character, but holy hell I want one!

Underground and Kickin' Ass!

Mention the names Reverend Horton Heat,Tiger Army, The Horrorpops, The Cramps, The Nekromantix, The Koffin Kats, or TheMeteors to the average American and you’re likely to elicit some blank stares. Most people are completely unaware that these bands are part of a sound and a vital subculture that can trace its roots to the beginnings of Rock and Roll. This scene is the modern Rockabilly and Psychobillymovement.

The first band to claim the title of Psychobilly was the American band The Cramps. They also called their sound “Rockabilly Voodoo”. The description Psychobilly comes from the Johnny Cashsong “One Piece at a Time”. The narrator in this song constructs a car made of various stolen Cadillac parts. The parts come from different makes and models of Cadillac’s so the narrator dubs it a Psychobilly Cadillac. The name seems proper given the Frankenstein’s-monster-like nature of the modern Psychobilly sound.This sound borrows and combines elements of the original Rockabilly sound, Punk Rock, Surf Rock, and Country.

The Cramps shared many elements in common with the later Psychobilly bands, yet they would eventually distance themselves from the scene. The Cramps used an electric bass guitar player while most of the later bands incorporated an upright double bass into their sound. However, many of The Cramps lyrical themes such as science fiction, horror, violence, B movies, and kinky sex would also be used by later Psychobilly bands.

The Cramps may have been the pioneers of the genre, but the sound and look that characterizes Psychobilly initially took root in Europe. The Psychobilly scene was originally associated with bands like The Meteors, The Guana Batz, Demented are Go in England, Mad Sin in Germany, and The Nekromantix in Denmark. The look these bands and their followers adopted borrowed heavily from the original rockabilly look in the United States, and the Punk Rock look in England. Clothing for men often includes boots or brothel creepers, tight jeans, bandanas, and chain wallets. Hairstyles for guys usually include high wedges, Mohawks, military cuts, or pompadours.The Bettie Page hair style and swing dresses are popular with the women in the scene. Makeup is usually thick and includes cat’s eyes and dark red lipstick. Men and women alike often sport lots of retro and sailor style tattoos.

Psychobilly has also crossed over into the custom car culture and the underground punk scene. Roger Miret of Roger Miret and the Disasters and the hardcore punk band Agnostic Front owns a clothing company that makes rockabilly style clothes and started a custom car club that restores and drives old school hot rods and rat rod style cars.

These scenes serve as a place for music fans who are graduating from punk or other youth cultures, to once again recreate themselves. Many adherents claim that the culture appeals to the same need for self-expression, individuality, and a need to belong to a like-minded peer group without having to conform to mainstream society. They find that as they get older the slightly more advanced sound and the scene that surrounds the Psychobilly movement now more accurately meets their needs.

The modern Rockabilly and Psychobilly scene has not yet been widely popularized, packaged, and commercialized like popular punk and it still maintains a sense of being “underground” and out of the mainstream public’s eye. It’s this appeal that allows it to crossover into other underground scenes. Hardcore Punks, Goths, Skaters, Country music fans, and regular people who appreciate good music, are often seen rubbing shoulders and slamming in the pit at Psychobilly shows.

In the 90’s the scene finally returned home to the United States and grows stronger all the time. Denver’s own Insomniaxe are great examples of this crossover appeal. They often play with the local Punk bands, Rockabilly bands, and visiting Psychobilly bands. The same fans that attend an Insomniaxe show are often seen attending a Punk show the next night.

Colden King the dynamic and insane bassist of The Insomniaxe says, “I got pretty bored with punk, a lot of it was repetitive, boring, and recycled. Then I discovered Psychobilly.” His love of music and his showmanship are on display at every Insomniaxe performance. He says, “I still listen to some punk as well as thrash, blues, swing, big band, rockabilly and of course Psychobilly.”

The band rips it up at every show, throwing bottles, swinging from the ceiling, inviting people on stage and playing their own brand of Psychobilly originals and a good mix of cover songs.

The modern Psychobilly scene keeps evolving and growing, and yet mainstream culture seems largely unaware of it’s existence. It’s this purity and wide acceptance that will allow the scene to continue to grow and thrive.