things that help stave off suicide part the 2nd

Decayed Architecture. There is a certain sadness about abandoned buildings/industrial sites that calls out to me.  The thought that dozens, or perhaps hundreds, of men had, at one time sweated and cussed in the process of construction of the building which now lay in ruins. Did those men ever once think in between thoughts of  how they were  going to pay their bills or how they were going to have fun on Friday night after getting paid while the sweat was pouring down into and stinging their eyes on a particularly hot summer afternoon that one day in the future, perhaps even within their life times, that all their hard work would be for naught?

I try to not dwell on these thoughts when I see decayed architecture, I tend to let the stresses in my life briefly disappear whilst imagining that I’m in some “last man on left on earth” scenario or simply pretending that I am an archaeologist in some far flung future trying study what life was like on earth when the magic of life had died along Michael Jackson…

jareddriskill

things that help stave off suicide part the 1st

When life gets you down, sometimes the only thing that can pick you back up are the little things. The following is the first in a series about those little things that help stave off the self inflicted dirt nap. Not that I have feeling down or anything lately…

New Tire Fuzz. Yes, after you just plunked down hard earned cash that you barely have to replace a tire on your vehicle, you can fight off the feelings of dread caused by short term economic uncertainty ( how am I supposed to pay rent and buy the complete series of “The State” on dvd now?) by feeling the smooth caress  that only thin strands of vulcanized rubber can produce. 

Ohhh lovely.

jareddriskill

michael jackson tribute story

Like most people, I felt a low groan emerge from my lips (a disappointed ”aw fuck!” in my particular case) when I had first heard the shocking news that Michael Jackson had passed away unexpectedly at age 50.  Again, like most folks, I hadn’t given too much thought in the past several years or so about the fact that he was the greatest entertainer that this world had ever seen and that I had taken him (and his talent) for granted for far too long without giving the man his proper due.

Much like a person who had let a love one pass away without once telling them how much the deceased had meant to him or her, I became depressed and went to some random local watering hole to drown out my woes with cheap whiskey. So there I was, sat there in a dark corner of some cheap smokey bar nursing my second or third drink when a very attractive woman walks up and sits next to me.

She asked me what was the matter and I then related my Michael Jackson related sorrows to her. Apparently not listening to and/or caring about the source of my woes, she then said that she thought my hung dog expression made me “look cute” and she then continued a conversation with me to which all I could muster in response were deep sighs and wounded groans.

Without me realizing,  the woman had led me by the hand out of the bar, into her car and then her bedroom where she was trying her best to seduce me and all I could think about while I was laying on her bed, totally flacid despite all her best efforts, was how fucking awful it was that Michael Jackson had died earlier that day.

the human antichrist

After a long dry spell of ideas, I’ve decided to break out the sketchbook to see what would happen and the result is this: “the human antichrist,” a phrase that popped into my head while I was drawing this sketch of some random woman. All I had to do to complete this sketch was to add an inverted crucifix necklace and viola!

On second thought, the phrase ”human antichrist” makes technical sense. I mean wasn’t jesus a supernatural male being meaning that his opposite (the antichrist) would be a female human? (Or maybe I’m just thinking too hard about this sort of thing.)

As always, I can see at least 8 fundamental artistic errors in this sketch, can you find them all?

-jareddriskill

dreamlog #67

I dreamt I’m attending  a concert that is being held in an renovated 1920’s movie palace. The only artist performing at this concert  is some young old school wannabe R&B singer. He only had two songs in his set: the first was a 20 minute long christmas music  medley and his second (and last song) was some overblown, drawn out ballad ( I assume it’s his “hit” single/ signature tune.) The concert was poorly attended, only about 80 people, and most of the audience were more interested in looking at the renovated movie palace than they were paying attention to the R&B singer.

-jareddriskill

random item tuesday

item! My friend, The Man, suggested a humorous comic strip idea to me the other day. The premise of this comic strip was about former hair metal musicians who had to cut their hair because they are now bankrupt and can’t afford to buy hair care products. I told him it sounded more like a tragedy than humor to me. But I digress…

The more I thought about “The Man’s” idea, more ideas came to my mind such as: the comic strip could also focus on grunge rockers who had to cut their hair because they spend all their money on smack instead of hair care products and got hair lice from sleeping in a squat and goth rockers who are bankrupt because they did nothing but spend their money on black hair dye number 5 ( “I just want to die, Dye my hair black!”)  and hair care products.

I don’t know, it all sounds derivative and unoriginal. But isn’t that what music is now a days?

item! The musician hair care comic strip idea reminds me of another unfulfilled self imposed challenge that I have: to write a heartwarming comedy about a woman who drowns her own children. If I could pull that off, I’d be set for life! 

item! Started a new job today and you we all know what that means. Corporate mandated training/orientation  videos! I don’t know which is more heavy handed in these videos: the actors or the corporate company line/mission statement. The company I work for now is all big on “integrity.” (Which means, my faithful reading several,  they ain’t got much if they hired me!) Which meant I had to watch an two hour long video with bad acting about how “integrity” is about doing your paperwork right. ( Funny, and I had thought for my entire life that doing your paperwork right was part of “doing your fucking job.”)

We’ll see what happens.

-jareddriskill

dreamlog #66

It’s a hot summer night and I’m at some outdoor shopping center when I see my reflection in a store window that something, or someone, had accidentally shaved off a chunk off my hair at the hairline near my forehead. Not that my hair is particularlly long or anything, but it is very noticeable.

I also happen to notice that I have a a pair of hair clippers in my back pocket and I frantically begin to use the store window reflection to begin shaving the rest of my hair off. Of course, I don’t do a very good shaving my hair down and have to go to an 80 year old Korean barber to fix my hair.

-jareddriskill

manic street preachers: journal for plague lovers

Manic Street Preachers/ Journal For Plague Lovers deluxe edition/ Columbia Records 2009

The Manic Street Preachers are one of my favorite bands because of their interesting back history of overcoming severe adversity (and the fact they can write some really great songs does not hurt either.) Of course, when I say “severe adversity” I mean the disappearance of one of their main song writers, Richey James Edwards, some 14 years ago.  The band, of course, carried on and went on to continue their greatness, but things just didn’t seem the same anymore for the group.

Having mistakenly thinking for years that the five Richey penned songs from the album “Everything Must Go” were the last that we would hear from the genius,  you could’ve bought my sorry ass with a penny last fall when I read that the Manics were recording a new album in the vein of “The Holy Bible” (their best album and coincidentally, the last full length that Richey contributed to) with Steve Albini (!?!?!) featuring the last set of lyrics Richey had written before he disappeared.  It felt like a million Christmases had come early.

And like a small child impatently awaiting christmas, I spend the interviening  months eagerly devouring studio reports and rumors about the upcoming release on the internet such as “this album isn’t ‘The Holy Bible’ part two.” Cleverly, after listening to the album I have to say that it is. If you listen to the chorus of the albums title track, you realize that the “Journal For Plague Lovers” is indeed The Holy Bible itself. That, is what I call genius.

To continue the religious angle of this album, “Journal For Plague Lovers” is the New Testament to “The Holy Bible’s” Old Testament. “Journal…” has its dark moments, but it also has some moments of light sort of like Jesus’ teachings about god. Whereas “The Holy Bible” was harsh and abrasive, sort like god from the Old Testament who was angry as fuck all the time and killed without discretion. Both albums can also be seen as two parts of one whole that will be passed down from generation to generation. And that, my faithful reading several, is a fitting tribute to the genius of Richey James Edwards.

-jareddriskill

footnote: The deluxe edition of this album comes with a second cd that contains demos for all the songs on the album and a beautiful looking 32 page hardcover reproduction of the original lyric sheets that Richey left behind. However, the deluxe edition does not come with the bonus track, “Bag Lady,” that is found on the regular edition of this album. However, “Bag lady” is offered as a free download from the bands website at www.manics.co.uk

random item tuesday

item!I have to say graduating from college was very anti-climatic. I sweated blood and struggled to pay the bills while going to school for 4 long years only to have the announcer totally misprounce my name when I walked across the stage.

At least my name is spelt right on my diploma.

item! The night shift toll booth attendants on the Powhite Parkway here in Richmond have been replaced by a group of happy white middle class Christian types who smile and take the time to thank you as you pay your way through the toll. I find these Ned Flanders wannabes to be unsettling to deal with. I just can’t  trust people who smile for no damn good reason

All is not lost however, your stereotypical surly female African American toll booth attendants tend to work the day shift on the Powhite.

item!  So…David Carradine died because of a little autoerotic asphyxiation ( try typing that three times fast!) action. I would have never believed in  million years that he would be all into that sort of behavior. I never thought the guy from INXS was into that behavior either, but there you go.

Of course when I first heard David Carradine died in Thailand, I assumed the worst and thought that he got mixed up in some under aged prostitution ring. Of course I think of that whenever I hear about someone going to Thailand. “Yep, they are going to Thailand to get mixed up with some under aged prostitutes.” I mean, why else would anyone go to Thailand?

item! It’s still a random item tuesday if i post it before midnight….

jareddriskill

dreamlog #65

I dreamt that I was working at an convenience store just days after the Virginia state government suffered a major economic collapse. Meaning that all state run services had been cut off and the customers at this convenience store just couldn’t get it through their heads that food stamps and the state lottery no longer fucking exist. ( “Sorry dude, I can’t redeem your winning scratch ticket, even though you had been sitting on it for weeks now. You should’ve cashed it in before the state government collpased. You are also gonna have to pay me cash for that candy bar. Sir…sir… put down that crowbar.”)

jareddriskill