desk_tapper

"Artemis"
much like the light
in the night sky
illumination
tempted darkness
virgin white cloaked
in cascade of night
scars of Europa,
diaphanous

oh lover of Aurora
mortal son
turn away from the dawn
toward the moon
as sure as you've been blinded
seek the sun
bathe in the diamond sea
the uttermost East

with eyes of green and
tongue of a snake
Loxias named a mark
amid foaming waves
boasting of her skill
she let fly her shaft
and slew there foundering
an honest man

wandering what a large video arcade, so many games I've seen before in another dimension cuz I remember them but I've never seen them previously, Louie and Angie are in that crowded room, texting names of the machines to myself so I can download them on MAME, lost
awesome Metroid game on the old Gameboy, cool passages that slowly constrict and will skewer Samus on spiky protrusions, organic hallways and teeming hordes of aggressive aliens. stupid wave beam pattern hits the wall instead of the target. killer laser beam stolen from Contra, it rebounds and zaps me, gotta use it to solve the corridor puzzlezzzzzz
oops, I'm hours late for work. they hired some random dude to handle the route and I feel like a foolish fool
floating through the castle on my stealth dragon, launching fireballs from my magic sword at the spiny orbs straight out of the Phantasm movies. they drop glowing spheres that power me up. wave after wave, down cold blue stone corridors and hey that's Wendy. walking through an archway we've arrived at the keep and pilfer some jewelry. one cool piece is going to pierce my ear later. magic rings and treasure. outside, grey skies and another door to a descending staircase. Wendy is terrified of the stairs and convinces me that it's a trap. I would have been stuck unable to get out or follow the stairs down. we head towards the docks, looking for something we don't know what it does

Do you dig Agalloch? Yes, I do.

Aurora swims in the ether.
Emerald fire scars the night sky.
Sólstafir
Amber streams from Sol are not unlike the waves of the sea,
nor the endless horizon of ice.
Sólstafir

Aurora swims in the ether.
Emerald fire paints the twilight.
Heidrun bleeds the golden nectar
For the rising sun and the moon.
The midnight wolves who watch over the dawn.
The golden dawn.
Sólstafir.

Just a heads up all you zombie hunters:
I purchased Resident Evil for the Gamecube expecting to relive ancient memories of the Arklay Mansion. Denied! Turns out Capcom went balls-out and reworked almost the whole game!
While the story remains the same, many of the puzzles, enemies, and events are new. The moste pleasante surprise is the graphic overhaul: the Gamecube's superior lighting effects are used to render impressive shadow effects, reflections, and physics-based touches such as water and flame behavior. Killer! Even the cut scenes have been vastly improved.
While the gameplay and character control are similar to the first three games, the clunkiness is not unfitting. The character's slow-ish movements work with the eerie atmosphere to create a truly claustrophobic, stifling effect. The exquisite experience of stalking the halls in dead silence looking for ammo and being shocked with the explosive entrance of some cannibalistic corpses (run! don't shamble!) is not to be missed.
If you have a Wii or Gamecube, get this game before scarcity renders it prohibitively expensive. It's almost too late. This is my, last escape.

Miki has a way with paper. She started with lined binder paper but has since found a preference for plain white or pastel blue, the thinner and lighter the better. She folded an airplane and sent it flying at this ninja who was up to no good. Ninja readies his katana but the airplane hits with the force of a thrown dagger and hurls him against a wall. Miki's hands blur as she folds and launches a dozen airplanes, each pinning this ninja to the wall. He twitches a few times and falls still, blood pouring out of many wounds.
One time these bastard gangbangers slapped her around and robbed her. So Miki went home and got out her scissors. She cut out lots and loads of these paper people shapes with pointed knives for feet and went off through the night. She found those dicks and opened her arms. Some hundred paper people poured forward and sliced and stabbed until not one rotten hood was left screaming. I guess Miki can be kinda scary.
She digs origami special. Paper cats that purr and yowl, the ubiquitous crane that she's used to send me messages on boring summer days, flowers that seem to waft out magic scents, a boat that sails on its own, and that cool door knob thing. She sticks it to any surface and turns it and voila, an open door.
I looked inside; it was simultaneously fascinating and horrifying. She described it as, "a nexus of possibilities that exist between our perceivable dimensions". I went in with her once, and we spent half an eternity - literally - having strange adventures outside of time and in between strings. It was rather like being on way too much acid. Miki says she goes in there all the time and spends lifetimes opening random doorways just to "take a peek".
I think she's nuts; she thinks I'm chicken.
I drew a picture of her, and she folded it into a likeness of me; we switched bodies or something. Weirdest thing. Our minds melded? Something. Then she undid the likeness and I thought my skin was tearing off.
There was a paper heart in her room, by the mirror. It had my name on it. I've never been so happy.

Climbing the shelves, restocking and throwing around debris. Coworkers are below trying to stabilize the legs. Jewel is HHYH in a mask looking up. I am imagining tears in her eyes.
Climbing the walls and lurking on the roof. Family barbecue, remember those? Cousins and simultaneous gameplay and good potato salad. Swing down from the roof onto the porch going in but she's there at the door and she holds me on the porch looking up and kissing me and saying it's okay we can hang out we can be friends in between kisses almond eyes all mond eyes earnest and soft I am imagining tears in my eyes.

Enjoying the Showtime series, Dexter. And identifying with it more than I feel comfortable with. His whole disconnect from humanity, and then rediscovering his desire to connect after the first half of season one, that shit hits me. And who doesn't want to be the avenging angel, slicing up the psychos of the world?
I've invented violent fantasies since I was seven or so. I think part of me wants to be an action film choreographer or something.
Also, there is at least one instance where I lashed out violently and can't remember doing it. In 7th grade I socked Roger Tsu in the jaw.
The story: when we played basketball, I didn't get the ball often cuz I kinda sucked. Roger was the guy who covered me, but he had a habit of fouling- which meant I'd get the ball, then get a foul and have to go offside, then toss the ball into the court to someone else. That much I remember.
But apparently, according to Robert Lenfesty, one day I got so angry with Roger that I turned around, yelled at him to stop fucking fouling me, and hit him in the jaw so hard he left the court crying.
I promptly forgot the whole thing until Robert recounted the tale sometime in our senior year at Hayward High. At first, I didn't believe the story. But then I realized that at some point, Roger had become very cold towards me in classes. Couldn't figure out what I'd done to him. Always sort of outside and disconnected, I chalked it up to just not fitting in.
Then Robert tells me what happened. Realization dawned, that moment of clarity. I still feel really awful about having done that. I hope Roger has cleansed it from his mind, though such an unprovoked attack hardly deserves forgiveness.
That's all fucked up and well, in the past and la di da.
But... what if there are other things that I don't remember? Kinda scary to consider. What if I do go violently insane? What if I already have?

Stolen peacock feathers, hidden farm for pigs and rusty automobiles, injured knee infected and ugly. Warm night life of Paris, San Jose. Tattoo shops selling coffee and clothes. Melanie and I wrapped in a blanket strolling about. Who are we with? Why are we all separating? Stupid dial up connection in strange house, emailing nothing to no one.

The first time I procured a high performance guitar amplifier, I was disappointed. The Dual Rectifier sure was louder than anything I'd played through, but the sound being amplified was big and fat and too slow.
Big as in, very low-end oriented. No matter how low the bass setting and how high the treble and presence, the attack was too soft for the lightning quick riffage that invariably erupts from my hands.
Fat as in the overall sound was round; perhaps there was no harshness in the high frequencies, but one couldn't coax the amplifier out of that slippery feel. It would roar, but it would not scream.
There are milliseconds between my pick slashing the string and the sound emerging from the speaker. This transmogrifies a chord into a muffled mess. And speed picking an intricate rhythmic passage? Just forget it.
So I had some doubts after selling that monster and putting in an order for the brand spanking new Mark 5 from Mesa. But I was more excited cuz the Mark 5 houses amp circuits that have been involved in some of my moste favourite albums, such as Master of Puppets and Loveless.
I guess my tastes are more classic than modern. The 80's metal sound is where my heart and soul dwell. Lots of treble and cut, emphasis on a mixture of melody, speed, and aggressive riffing. And when the musicians really buckle down and lay out harmonized passages that manage to emphasize the rhythm while creating a parallel melodic dimension... La.
(For example, the twin guitar solo near the end of the bridge section in Metallica's Fight Fire With Fire.... genius. Classical harmonies turned up to eleven and played quick.)
Now one is lucky to encounter dissonant call and response over faux hip hop cum metal beats. (Except Meshuggah, but they are exceptional in all ways.) Even Dragonforce seem to favor mid flavored overdrive.
Anyway, today I got this Mark 5 amp after about four months on the waiting list. And I am ascending through the spheres with guitar in hand. Holy sweet jesus this thing rocks me. So far, it is the exact sound I've been yearning for since I first heard the outro to The Thing That Should Not Be, with that phased string scratching sound that blew my adolescent ears away. Wow, I was actually young once. Maybe I'll always be?

Stole this from Petra. The results were slightly amusing...
Pick your Artist:
Meshuggah

Describe Yourself:
Rational Gaze

How do you feel:
Obsidian

Describe where you currently live:
Organic Shadows

If you could go anywhere, where would you go:
Inside What's Within Behind

Your favorite form of transportation:
The Exquisite Machinery of Torture

Your best friend is:
I

You and your best friends are:
Dancers to a Discordant System

What's the weather like:
Nebulous

If your life were a TV show, what would it be called:
Personae Non Gratae

Your favorite sight:
Transfixion

What is life to you:
Terminal Illusions

Your fear:
Autonomy Lost

What is the best advice you have to give:
In Death Is Life

Thought for the Day:
We'll Never See The Day

My soul's present condition:
Perpetual Black Second

My motto:
Suffer In Truth

Ever hear the one about the chocolate fudge cake?
The recipe called for a cup and a half of coffee. So we dumped a cup and a half of ground coffee on the thing, with some misgivings. Only after baking did we realize the author meant a mug of brewed coffee, not a measuring cup of grounds.
Confection fail.

Today, commencement of guitar project 2 codename, "Zeta". Photo documentary to follow eventually.
I'm doing it the lazy way; all the hard stuff is done by professionals. Cutting, painting, and even some of the wiring since I'm buying a pre-wired harness from Bartolini. Final assembly will fall into my hands, however.
Stay tuned for initial imagery.

I've been near here before. Through the darkness. First step, the tightrope suspended over the demon's heart and the pits of blood. The word "jehovah" etched on tiles that might flip and send you down and you lose. Light as a feather I lead our group over the myriad misspellings and safely to the other side. We descend to the blood pools and massive throbbing hearts. She's riding a horse and leading another, my bike splits the blood and sends thick ripples out. We come to the room of tunnels, various people waiting to distract you with their televisions. Blue pipes out of Mario Bros in the corners. The one filled with garbage is our exit; stand in the junk and sink through, then falling through litter of popcorn, candy, sprinkling sodas, fall fall fall keeping nausea and the fear at bay, down onto pillows in a padded room. Three other groups have made it; one is a birthday party of 56. Our cat freaks out about the people and climbs a wall, all the way up to the ceiling. Thumps and thuds behind the walls indicate the employees are preparing the finale. We're called to some tables. The birthday party people are admonished for taking up more tables than they need, but they're being dicks about it and won't consolidate. Wake.

Fear on the grass and ice standing a tall. Things that like to bite but they are one thing imitating many: The Thing, remember? They devour and regurgitate themselves as a new form. Aliens evaded, climbing the standing pipe now they run after. Safe inside, don't let them bite. A handshake? Don't trust me or anyone. Don't let the reflection stare to long. Death in mistrust and death in trust. We fear each other. Through the glass they're coming. wake

Out of the safe house but followed already. Sneaking around concrete pylons and fences. Grace is trying to call mission support - a guy at home on a computer - to warn him the hideout (code name Rylon's Tower....???) is in danger of being raided. As we hop into the mustang, I remind her that calls are being traced. Suspicious guy on the sidewalk watches us from the corner of his eye.
In a hotel with Meaghen and Grace. Heartfelt discussion about dreaming of friends. "I'm always happy when you dream about me." Meaghen is Wendy, she brushes Grace's tits and blushes. They're getting friendly when the tv is showing some bullshit and I put on Appetite for Destruction but it's really GnR Lies and it plays a shitty live clip of Reckless Life segueing into an interview with the young Kurt Cobain - long blond hair and snide comments about 80's rock and metal. Cats fighting wakes me up.

At World Market building a surprise gift basket for a departing coworker. There's a candy-filled "magic princess wand"; I reckon it's good for a laugh and put it in the basket. When you jiggle it just the right way, it emits this cute little magical jingle. As we shopped for other goodies, the wand would randomly play the jingle; hilarity inevitably followed.
Fast forward to post shower tomfoolery; spanking Wenchan, she attacks me back. However my defense is too strong and she hurts her wrist on my arm- in this situation it was funny. I follow her into the bedroom and just outside the closet, Wenchan gives one of her startled squeak n' hop numbers. Seems a cat left a rubber mouse by the closet door and it tickled her ankle. Hilarity ensues.
This stuff really happened.

What a nice visit to The City today.
It all began with a trip to Castro Valley to pick up Jeffe and Sandy. Check out Jeffe's cool Cunningham Electric T-shirt:

Took 580 to the bay bridge, into Saint Frank and into the first parking structure to cross the radar. Short walk across Market up Kearny to lunch: some random japanese hole in the wall that serves curry that they cook for two days. Fantastic! Wenchan and Jeffe got the chicken katsu, Sandy had udon and veg curry, and I had the plain chicken with brown rice and curry. The line was pretty incredible:

This hot chick had a sweet dress on:

Then we walked up Kearny to Coit Tower. Plenty of tourists there. Wenchan wanted some ice cream, so we walked down to the waterline and allll the way over to Ghirardelli Square. Lots of goofy guys like this done up in silver and dancing to the king of pop:

BTW, the day was partially spent making references to songs by ol' Mikey. Next on the list was bussing to the Golden Gate. Took forever, crowded bus to a corner wait for ever and ride another super crowded bus for ever. The bridge was foggy and cold:

Freedom For Iran rally taking place. Then bus back toward the DeYoung, but the website lied and you had to be a member AND pay a fee to see the exhibits; got fucked out of that one. Luckily our transfers were still good for a ride back to Market. Hit Rasputin and Urban Outfitter, bought Wenchan some shirts and a Strapping Young Lad disc. Happy smile:

Back to the car, cross town to visit Delfina for some pizza. Fucking Critical Mass assholes on bikes:

Traffic, no parking, and an hour and a half later we left Delfina cuz the wait was for ever. Angry me:

Down 18th and we hit another pizza place:

Cheap, good pizza. Four of us dined for less than 30 bucks. GLBT pre-parade rallies ended and the streets are crowded with drunk adults in playful moods:

I thought it would be braver of them to be parading in Alabama; Jeffe laughed. Feeling safe is dangerous, but nice all the same. Anyway, walked down 19th digging the nightlife and perfect weather as darkness fell. Back to the car, navigating more random San Francisco bullshit, back home. Great/sucky day, overall positive experience.
What have YOU done lately?

Yes, I am afraid of the dark
because you might be there
to remind me of how it feels
to hold you close.
all fear
all hate
all pain
all death
all sex
all that is reels.
these are the moments that sing.
these are the hours that crawl.
what did it taste like?
my heart?
not too bitter, I hope
I hope.

if I had a gun
the first place I'd go
would be San Diego
to kill all my bad feelings there

Fleeing the pirates Raquel and I board a theater ship and descend to the hold. Gussied up for balls, nice carpet and curtains. We hide among the curtains, waiting to ambush the vampire hunters. They're filing in. Wait. Wait. One of our cohorts leans too far and gives away our position; the fun begins.
We leap down among the hunters. I drain some guy, twist the neck of another and hurl him away. Stabbing, slashing, biting throats, crushing bones, I am a whirlwind of pitiless death. Protecting my cousin is my first priority. I begin a biting chain, this time it's all young women with fair skin and anime hair colours. They fight until the bite opens their veins, then limp as fish they quiver with pleasure before falling dead to the floor. Grinning maniacally, I rush to the fray.
Michelle's getting married In n Out on the patio in Fresno fucking hot "can you show me on the computer" stupid pokemon.com crap the computer overheats
Welcome to the coolest restaurant in the universe. It's way out in some boondock town, but you can only have this experience here. The Adventure Experience.
The food your party orders decides the course of your adventure.
Louie, Angie, Wendy and I begin in the pillar room. Crazy tilting pillars spiral up to a treasure chest containing the key to the next room. The floor is one of the bottomless pits from super mario. Louie beats me to the top while Ang and Wen wait by the door.
The next room is truly bizarre. We emerge from behind a screen into a bright room with a large conveyor belt; this is the assembly line for the "boss robots" for another room; fearsome falcon visages like something out of Samurai Pizza cats. Hula dancing jungle cannibal dudes guard the floor path; I climb up to hooks hanging from the ceiling and swing above the spear-toting bastards. But on the far side I fuck up and fall onto the conveyor belt; looks like it's the end for me. The conveyor belt is a viscous liquid dissolving the robots, my father is trying to help but I wake up.
My dreams are so fun.