Hmm?

Is it just me, or is the gas station in 'Raising Arizona' the same as the one in 'No Country For Old Men'?

Dear Jesus,

Please bring me:



because I have not been a naughty boy at all.

This is our sun.

Dear suburban youth of America,

Seriously, what's with all the rap/gangster rap?

Regards,
RV

Eat Food. Bike. Take Pictures. Sleep.

For something more interesting, go HERE.

Yes, HERE.

Radiolab: Cities

This is pretty damn interesting, if you ask me. If you have about an hour or so, and you'd otherwise be wasting your time on the Home Shopping Network--or whatever trash it is that you watch on t.v.-- listen to this.

"In this hour of Radiolab, we take to the street to ask what makes cities tick.

There's no scientific metric for measuring a city's personality. But step out on the sidewalk, and you can see and feel it. Two physicists explain one tidy mathematical formula that they believe holds the key to what drives a city. Yet math can't explain most of the human-scale details that make urban life unique. So we head out in search of what the numbers miss, and meet a reluctant city dweller, a man who's walked 700 feet below Manhattan, and a once-thriving community that's slipping away."

I've never understood rails, and I definitely still don't.

Everywhere a Remix

" " "

Sometimes I really can't decide where things should go, so... here.

Passing Complexion

Right Where it Belongs

Music I've Never Heard

I really have to wonder how much good music there is floating around out there that I'll never hear. It seems like it's kind of like one of those things like great books that will never be read because of so many overly cautious zealots that have had mass book burnings.

These two bands are from New Zealand (like the Skeptics), and I really hope that I can continue on with this trend of finding music that's really good and gives me that warm, happy I-no-longer-give-a-shit-because-the-present-and-future-are-full-of-fucking-idiots feeling. If you know of any goodies, let me know.




If anyone ever can find copies of any of these albums, feel free to buy them for me as a belated birthday gift. Especially whatever albums Pull Down the Shades and Affco. are on.

Homie Vids

A couple of edits from some friends of mine that ride out of Holland, MI. Pat & Zach both ride for Lakeshore Cycle and Fitness, a bike shop I used to work at before I moved out to Mass.

Something I Did Not Know (Until Recently)

Zach Hill also is the drummer for this fine musical establishment. And really, that makes complete sense, as the drumming is so solid throughout.



Bonus.

BALADA TRISTE DE TROMPETA

I have every intention of watching this.


Balada triste de trompeta - Tráiler italiano
Uploaded by cine365. - Check out other Film & TV videos.

Zach Hill (Drummer of Hella) & Some Hippie on a Guitar

I love the first 50, or so, seconds of this. I could probably listen to it on a loop for a couple of hours, given the right task with which to occupy my mind.

Hella

I liked this duo way before I hated the word, before I knew California firsthand, and before I realized how correct all of my preconceived notions about the weak-minded morons that flock to that god-awful state are.

On the Other Hand, Not Everything is Bad

While there some days that I really feel like there isn't much else that's pretty aside from riding bikes and listening to music, there is one thing I know for certain--I'm living in the wrong country.


Dunkerque from Mutiny Bikes on Vimeo.

I may like the outtakes cut better. Not really sure.

Dunkerque Outtake from Mutiny Bikes on Vimeo.

One by One

I'm pretty sure that there's an analogy for our way of life tied up in this, somewhere.



Also, this.

*

Fuck Facebook and all of its whiny blathering idiots. I'm taking up residency here.

Now...

BMX State of Mind

I almost never eat the fancy cereals with oats and "20 essential vitamins". I like the ones with sugar--anything that tastes like chocolate.

When I hear or read about people that spend most of their time trying to drown themselves in self-pity--and doing their damnedest to pull others in with them--I feel like punching someone.

Just because you've gone to college, or you have a job with a desk and some business cards, it doesn't actually make you an adult--experiencing life outside of that box does, but it doesn't mean that it's for the better.

When you go to work, you speak to people. They're people that use large words, ones that really carry some weight. When I go to work, I talk to people, and we lightly shoot the shit.

I'm sure when you're sitting on the bus, every day, on your regular commute, you're glad it's warm, or that the air conditioning keeps you cool.

When I go to work, I ride a "little kid bike". And, on the worst days, I'm only getting exercise.

Most days are without sympathy for change.

I can't drink coffee without
dribbles running down the side.
I can't leave the house
without a shit, shower, and brushing my teeth.

When I'm done with my shower, I
brush my beard
and my hair.

When I brush my teeth,
I can't help but gag.

Every morning,
it's rice, eggs, and
some kind of meat.
It's coffee, maybe
orange juice,
or a couple glasses of Kool-aid.

I wear long underwear--because
it's March and
New England is
cold and
wet.

I wear two pairs of socks.
I wear two t's and a flannel.
I wear a rain coat.

It's eight miles of
biking
to get into work, then
eight hours,
at least,
then eight miles home.

Wallride

No more time for sitting in the trees and waiting.

The town I grew up in had two
Filipino
families.
Mine was one, sort of,
and the other one lived down the street.

The town I grew up in
had the Mexicans on the South side,
in the lower cost
area of town.
And there was also
the ones that lived out
by the fields.

In the town I grew up in
I think we knew the handful of blacks.
And, just maybe
we knew all the gays.

In the town I grew up in,
they now have White Flight.
Even though they won't tell you,
it's all
because of the blacks.

Really though,
there still
aren't that many.

The town I grew up in
I've now
outgrown.

The town
I grew up
in now
has one less.

Grammar ain't a Bitch

This language is dancing

and I
only brought
two left feet.

This language is dancing and
its fire
is spreading
out
across the floor.

Its sex is forefront, brazen,
full form.

Its body is thick.
Its curves come erect.
This language is dancing,
finite.
Intense.

I noticed today
that my clothes
smell like white trash.
Probably 'cause
I've been sweating, and they haven't
been in the washer
for days.

I'll do something
about it.
Probably later.
Probably not at all.

College don't make 'em like they used to.

And, you go
to school
for what?

Pre-architecture.

So, what is that, like,
foundations
and stuff?

What?

Exactly.

Never buy your cigarettes at the liquor store for dolts.

When I walked down to the liquor store
and asked for cigarettes,
he told me, "$8.09."

I thought
I must've misheard him
there's no way,
"$8.09."

So I asked him,
"What?"

And he told me,
"$8.09"

Winters Bring the Cold

Lately
everything is drunk

All these people
sitting
empty
empty people
getting drunk

All these shitty ugly people
feeling empty
getting drunk
get more empty

I guess I’ll join
feeling empty
getting
drunk

And we’ll keep drinking
until everything is
empty
until everything
is drunk.

Clearing the Field

I am an old
animal.

I have many
broken bones.

But
if only just the one thing,
I always
carry my pride.
And, I
always have held it
high.

In removing my outsides,
I always use care.
They are hungry
for it,
and I have no room for error.

We are almost done now
with this
harvest.
And
I am old news.

U.S.A., I love you.

Today, I am discontent.
I am sat on
like an angry child.

Today, I am losing.
I am of a battle
built in the complex.

Today I am scared.
Though really, of
nothing I can see.

Today, I am beaten
by less than numbers
by faceless giants,
by centuries of old
white
men.

Fever

the red moon is falling all over
and the insects
the creatures and people
all buzz

the traffic grows louder
the colors, the clothing
grows louder

women’s legs
everyday
smooth
ankles running up to asses

and my eyes climb and fall
eyes climb
fall
just for the thrill of the look

old men sitting
by rivers and channels
rods to the wind
lines drawn back then
thrown

into the river
reels cast
reels sit
waiting for victory
a tug
the thrill of the catch

new season
and the moon falls all over

Thrown to the Ground

I'm gonna laugh now
as you're choking
gasping
reaching for that air
knee against your chest

It's just a business matter
that you're purple
that you're red

It's not the matter
of amount

It's not
relationships

It's just a matter of
five dollars

Give it to me, bitch.

I'd rather listen to talk radio

This is obviously a Country-Western
Only you
haven't taken
our dog
my things

no
I don't drive
a pickup

chrome-plated
bumper
rearview
'84
am/fm
bench seat

And yes
there's dust on
the bedpost
level
the high speed

Roadside flowers
through
and on.

One
punch-line

there are no cowboys
in Boston
our unfulfilled
wish

I can't keep that woman in the bed...

I cracked a bone that echoed, deep
and on forever
like a drop into a well.

Like I'm some kind of man
to be fixed.
Like I'm some kind
of end to a dream.

Today I cracked a bone that echoed.
I let loose through teeth.

180 Bank to Rail

Sometime, early 2009 maybe.