Every since I was a boy, I’ve found the story of Amelia Earheart to be incredibly fascinating. Lost at sea…nautical mystery…ghastly endings!!??? What the bloody hell happened to her, old sport?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B6BMYNi5TR4

More importantly — what did Robert Stack have to say on the matter? As an inveterate youth, I used to watch Unsolved Mysteries every single Wednesday at 7pm. While my dad whipped together a dad-dinner (post-divorce), my brothers and I would watch this badass show in the brown-carpeted common area we intimately called  a ‘living room’. I remember with keen observation, Stack’s calm and inimitable voice-overs, paying ever so closely to the dramatizations of ‘how it went down‘…

That’s one thing the 90′s were full of — ridiculously AMAZING network television shows. In my absolute love for mysteries, parapsychology, and abhorrent horror, I also carried an extra heavy heart for extra-cautious extra-terrestrials. Luckily for me, Sightings aired. A lot of what I learned in life, I learned from koo-koo conspiracy theorists: fact.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t7Y7i_Yvc2o

Oddly enough, NPR just talked about this last month… And now, I’m convinced that there is some-kinda-truth between what Sightings aired back in the 90′s, and what journalist Annie Jacobsen had to say in 2011. Either that, or every TOM, DICK, AND HARRY is lying about goddam everything.

Oh ok I dunno…maybe NASA is waging war against extra-terrestrial civilizations…In all seriousness, they could make anything up. Chances are, 99% of the human population will never make it into outer space anyhow, so why not make a bunch of shit up? “Yes, we are in fact holding meetings in outer space with other beings. And yes, they have advanced technology and stuff. And no, you still cannot see it.”

Phff..I would love to hang out with extra-terrestrials. For Saganistic purposes, I’ll assume they’re akin to us, maybe more advanced, maybe not, might have some creative insight into the advancement of the human species, maybe not… But really, would it change anything? Would it make humans different and “enlightened”? Maybe this guy knows…

“It’s Friday. Who cares?”

GQ: Sum up your life in a phrase.
Gene Hackman: “He tried.” I think that’d be fairly accurate.
Interview w/Gene Hackman.

I like this interview a lot, because I’ve always sort of liked Gene Hackman. ’Miss Teschmacher!!’ (Superman 1978). That blasting inquiry of no-end-exhaustion, still to this day makes me laugh.

‘Think outside of yourself.’

I find that swimming in the Texan sun is one of the reasons I am here on the planet. There is absolutely nothing else I’d rather be doing on a hot summer afternoon than swimming in the cool springs… Which reminds me, why am I writing this…why am I here?

Oh…if I could do it all over again, maybe I’d be a pirate…

I think the idea of looking for a job these days is absolutely, stunningly horrifying. There’s not much to add to that. Not much at all.

Except, that finding a job is about to get a lot worse. And pretty soon, kids are gonna start bypassing school just to get a job. To feed their 500 lb. gorilla families. Because there will be no birth control where we’re going… FUTURE PREDICTIONZ.

All the macho men are dying!

So, all the macho men are dying these days? Or have they been dead for too long? Are there not any more heroes? I’d like to see some research on hero values over the last 20 years. I need to get on that.

ZOMBIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Are you ready? Are your children ready??

Time is a ticking. And I have to admit, I’ve been a little obsessed with wrist watches lately. I find the one above to especially beautiful, at the price of about $Yeahright. My taste in watches is more solar these days anyhow.

27 minute informercial on JUGGALOS.

You know, I have to hand it them [juggalos], they really know what they don’t like, and how to put a face on that dislike. And that face is Tila Tequila. I guess you know you’ve hit an all time low when juggalos are throwing poop at your face.

I know my true self? Wait do you?

Perhaps Spinoza was right after all: “For the man who is subject to affects is under the control, not of himself, but of fortune, in whose power he so greatly is that often, though he sees the better for himself, he is still forced to follow the worse”. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’d like to be buried with a sarcophagus that Steve Martin would approve of…

“You could die in the arms of a nightmare, knowing that your best days are gone..”

My heroes have always been cowboys….slow moving dreams…cognac between records…..beer before liquor, ain’t eva’ been sicka’.

“Come hither new comer!”

I am officially happiness. The noun, not the adjective. My last finals was like deciding whether or not to jump off of a long cliff into a water-depth that only few people know…. And I walked away with my head sunk low.

“You know mang, is like, some people like crazy mang. Kids these days: wack.”

What to do with all of this time? I have thought about this, throughout the semester…and you know? I still have some equations set up in my head…

“My boy, you’ve lost your shoes have you?”

My time is like this:

(llama-me)

The new year is here. “Let’s go to the lake.” Nothing has exactly changed much, the gas prices went up. It’s slightly cold, the air is modern, aggressive. 2009 was such a strange year, rife with shadows and long tear drops over love and loss. I had hoped to not lose anyone so soon…but it happened and death has taken yet again.

The other night: there was a bluemoon. I got hacked to pieces by a machete, and the sparks caught my knuckles as they fell one by one into the fire. I thought I was going to die. I met some friends, we had a firecracker and it blew up, but not before we settled within the champagne; the watery guitar washing through the grape-colored space between millions of conversations.

When we got home, I fell asleep on the bed. My head was all full of winding roads, ticket punchers wearing gray 3-piece suits, a book of birds, and plastic pain. For a mere moment, the side of me that is Night, took over. I was scared and the white reverb in my chest sunk deeper into the abyss. The glow of my thoughts was black and cold, yet secretly smoldering, just warm enough to keep company. I walked back into the fire, and it mysteriously consumed me until I wept. It wasn’t until the bones in my neck cracked and turned, that I realized how majestic the cold orange of dawn could truly be.

I woke up on new year’s morning and touched the body next to mine, it was quite warm and very unconscious. Sitting up, I became attracted to the sounds coming from the kitchen. The cats were moving around, looking for something. The dog was outside, crying in the splinters of an early sunrise. The crystalline drops of dust were just barely settling on the antique keys of a broken piano. I let the dog in and she moved past me clicking upon the wooden floor and into the bedroom, where her master lie, sleeping off the grim darkness.

I wandered the house looking for those ridiculous poetry magnets that belonged solely on the cold squares of refrigerators. But I couldn’t find them. The mossy memories of sleep were being shoved off onto my real-life thoughts, my conscious thoughts. They layered in a nice pattern and in no way disfigured the tendrils of other thoughts coming to and fro in the early morning quietude.

As the time slowly locked onto their world, they woke up. We had brunch and recounted the night before. I caught myself dishing out apologies for whatever reason, we do after all, adorable things to each other in these such short lifetimes of experience. It was a fine afternoon, nonetheless. Throughout the rest of the day, we watched films. It was probably at this time, that the funeral arrangements were being made, while I lay upon the couch wishing for what I could not have.

Her final moments were among many of those sacred privities unknown to the living…I can only try to imagine the fright and the flight, if such things truly exist. Alas, there she is, somewhere in the colossal ether of a billion twinkling galaxies, swimming amongst the rest of our futures, singing through the dark glass that separates our reality from theirs. The cold and jagged claws of gravity can do no more harm to her…

And it’s good, it’s all going to be ok from now on.

]]> http://www.polarbearface.com/2010/01/02/i-cant-explain-it-its-the-way-i-am/feed/ 0 http://www.polarbearface.com/2009/12/14/bears/ http://www.polarbearface.com/2009/12/14/bears/#comments Mon, 14 Dec 2009 19:15:53 +0000 Polarbearface http://www.polarbearface.com/?p=731

“He who has a why to live can bear any how.” – Friedrich Nietzsche

It is with great pleasure that I write to you all…for the time where the schooling is no more (for 1 glorious month). The …

“He who has a why to live can bear any how.” – Friedrich Nietzsche

It is with great pleasure that I write to you all…for the time where the schooling is no more (for 1 glorious month). The holidays are upon us, the festivities are bright, and the firepunching whiskey-drinking collar grabbing lip busting couch sleeping has officially – begun.

“Humankind cannot bear very much reality.” – T.S. Eliot

But what does this mean for you, you ask? Well, it means that I can pay more attention to you, to the needs of the community, and meditation chakra healing shit (which is something I’ve been meaning to do but never get around to it because of Netflix-instant-watch). Which brings me to my next point: time management.

“I don’t think my parents liked me. They put a live teddy bear in my crib.” – Woody Allen

After the semester ends, I find myself in a hole of debt, carried over from the issues of October and November respectively. When I smoked cigarettes, I used to put them on my credit card during hard times. But using credit cards…is like drinking out of the clawfist of Satan. Fun, but you pay for it down the road. I’m no Petey Wheatstraw, so I’ll be taking my chances with abject poverty and dreams of when food was aplenty…

“I watched myself put my paw in the bear trap on that one because there was this clause about leaving members.” – Elliott Smith

Make sense Smith, jesus. Christ. Whenever I think of the “Burning Man” phenomenon, I cringe. When I first heard about it back in 2004, I thought to myself, “Awesome! Desert Mayhem, Art, and Drugs.” Then after thinking more about it, desert mayhem, art, and drugs sounded like a redesigned type of hell on earth. People, die. But people die everywhere, and that is the burden of existing, the burden we must as mortals, bear. On a day-to-day basis.

“Never feed or toss food to a bear.” Safety Tips on Bear Encounters

In a month, I will be back in the academic game, writing papers, studying language history, microbiology, and preparing for SXSW. We played it last year, and it was fun; albeit I did have the flu at the time. Dedication Jimmy. Dedication and hard work. Playing festivals is awesome: free beers, foods, monies, and memories. Free memories.

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