of YOUTUBE episodes and other expletives for the month of JAN....

Ok, so, here we are nearing the end of the first month of 2015, a wild month politically, and certainly, personally.

One thing that I promised myself, and I've made that socially clear as well is that I am going to commit to consistent communication. And Youtube is one of those streams I want to cultivate.

The only challenge now, is that while we at ANIMALS have been developing super material for the web, we have not figured out how to engage on a more simplistic, communicative level on channels like YOUTUBE. 

So, here and now, I keep to my word, while at the same time searching for ways to build the puzzle. Bear with me for awhile, since its not going to be pretty, but, soon enough we'll get into a flow .

For now, if you haven't, please subscribe. Do it. SUBSCRIBE NOW, not later. See, I'm not putting it off, and neither should you.

Enjoy this train wreck of a first attempt while it lasts.

nothing lasts forever, even cold November rain (and other metaphors)

Yesterday, a sort of funny little thing happened. I was MYSPACE's "Artist of the Day" for my music project MIRS. 

This would have been the absolute pinnacle of web dominance for a music act if it took place in 2006, but just short of a decade later, it's a cute footnote, and a stark reminder that absolutely NOTHING LAST'S FOREVER.

So, you might currently be having the worst days of your life, but if you stick it out, make some changes and proceed with action, it can all change. That also dictates the scary, but real fact that the reverse is also just as true. 

And who knows, maybe even MYSPACE, under the best circumstances & leadership, could flip that website around to it's glory days again. Anything is possible. I mean, did you just see the updated PILLARS OF CREATION photo. Seriously, ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE!

Make plans, and just as vital, roll with those waves.

An Experiment into Transparency regarding Lunch

I have a secret.  Actually, many secrets.  We all do.  Small ones, horrible ones, inconsequential ones.  But if you ask me what I had for lunch, it's akin to putting a knife to my throat and asking me to sell out my best friends, if, in a fictional bout of storytelling, they just happened to rob a bank and I was entrusted with that information and nobody was hurt.  You know the saying, snitches get stitches.  

The symptoms;  throat constriction, brain fog, and suddenly finding myself in an intensely difficult moment which could be alleviated with uttering a few simple words, whatever they may me, about what I had for lunch.  The most inconsequential questions become existential dilemmas.  Vague is my due course.  That is a character trait, years in refinement.

In my time, i've been able to get away with this in good style.  It was much easier without social media.  And even after, I could hide those simple pleasantries by way of social media interactions. After all, if I posted about where I was, why would I have to repeat said place to a girlfriend, or buddy, or anybody else?  Now, this isn't a modus operandi about everything, just the simplest of pleasantries.  The type of philistine chit chat we engage in as humans for some odd reason.  At some point, the mere thought of these simple niceties became too exhausting with people whom I've known to some degree.  Now, people I don't know so well, this is a non issue which is a sort of weird paradox all to itself.  

Now, everything I wrote above is mostly metaphorical.  It refers to the artist, the process and the work.     

So, it's time to try another approach.  Since I would like to practice what I preach, I will be sharing more information about process.  Secret projects that I toil in for long lengths of time, well, now I will show you what goes on behind the curtain.  This is not easy.  This is total cognitive dissonance.  But, I cannot tell another kid to share their work (and I mean process) without me doing it without abandon.  We are living in an Austin Kleon, Seth Godin kind of world.

Burn those old ideas.  Keep the head empty, and maybe, it can refill itself.

Of course, this experiment has a time limit.  Till the end of the year.  If it proves worthwhile to post clips of a fucking rehearsal, it will continue.  If utter repulsion sets in, I have the rights to terminate my own self inflicted experiment.  

Cheers my friends,
am

facebook mortality.

I detached myself from the plug of social media’s major milestone intuition a few days ago.  My feelings are still intact.  I assume they will be.  I was never that active on Mark's (enter the classic ironic name droppin' styles)  site anyways.

These tools of interaction are very psychological in nature.  Their success directly calls to mind Pavlov and his dogs, salivating for A LIKE.  

Facebook obliterates the past, and makes the future impossible.  It sticks you in the eternal now.  Now and forever.  Which, without sounding pedantic, is different than the Eastern philosophical version of THE NOW.

The paradox being is that if your time is always spent, monkey down on the phone, you are the antithesis of NOW in one sense, but stuck in NOWness, till infinity in the dull, uninspired, technosapien sense.

I'm glad I've detached.  I like to remember high school as it was, and not some fatter, older, and eternal version of it. Plus, I don't give a fuck about your kids. (not true, I do.  they are all, mostly, pretty cute)