(Intermittent Transmission of a Wandering Mind)
-Logue
This is where dispatches from my ongoing peculiarities will appear.
Updates, artwork, mild revelations, and the occasional useful scrap. A space for thoughts to stretch, stammer, or shimmer. Expect stories, sketches, reflections, and the occasional something that isn’t quite sure what it is yet. Frequency may vary. Clarity is not guaranteed. Proceed gently. Do not tap the glass. The specimens may be watching you too.
Not Part of the Soggy Toast Saga.....
About two or so years ago, my girlfriend at the time and I were witnesses to a horrible scene on Bardstown Road while trying to enjoy our chai teas outdoors, that is, we saw a medium sized dog get struck by a car. The car must have only swiped him for he was very much still alive, yelping and circling in the middle of the busy street, before laying down out of fear or shock. We both were trying to get out into the road, waving down traffic in order to do so, when a second car ran completely over this dog! It didn't even seem like the car made any attempt to swerve or slow down even....it just let both tires roll this poor dog like a rag doll. Nor did it even stop afterwards. I will maybe give them the benefit of doubt that they didn't have time to see the dog before striking it, but there is no possible way they couldn't have known that they ran it over.
I'm bringing this up tonight because I remember the wave of anger and awe I felt then thinking about how people could be so fucking heartless and uncaring.
Tonight, I was driving home from work in Denver on 25 North. There is a long curved ramp from this Interstate to get onto 36 West, which I was in the process of navigating when I witnessed a van, maybe two car lengths in front of me, change lanes directly infront of two motorcycles. Actually, more like changing lanes INTO the two motorcycles, to be more precise. One of the bikers managed to control his braking fishtale and swerved into the left lane (luckily unoccupied at that time), but the other biker started sliding sideways. The car infront of me quickly changed lanes to avoid what was about to happen, and I got the front row seat of watching this biker finally roll once, still with his bike, then roll face first into the concrete barrier at the side of the ramp (no, he was not wearing a helmet, of course).....went limp as a doll, rolling along side the gutter, and his bike then running him over. I came to a stop in the shoulder not ten feet from where he laid on his back. Amazingly, he was not only still alive, but conscious, and I ran to him while dailing 911. I did my best trying to tell him to just lie still and that an ambulance would be on it's way soon, but he was in a great deal of pain, and his head was split wide open on the right side and partly caved in.
His partner ran to us and helped in trying to keep him calm, and luckily a passing off duty nurse and EMT stopped to help as much as they could. The ambulance and police finally arrived and took over, and it was then that I finally realized that the van that caused this accident never stopped....NOR did the people directly in front of me who witnessed the whole event as well!
I don't really know what I'm trying to say with this blog. I feel sick! Not only for what I witnessed, of course, but for the fact that these people could drive away like that! What could possibly be in thier heads to make them that way? Are we who stopped to help THAT different in make up?
This poor guy's friend kept thanking me for calling 911 as if it was an unheard of thing to do, the police as well thanked me in that same way for the very same act!
The dog that got run over twice, over two years ago, did survive, and seemed like it would do well. I doubt I will be able to say that about the biker.
I'm going to drink myself to sleep now.
I'm bringing this up tonight because I remember the wave of anger and awe I felt then thinking about how people could be so fucking heartless and uncaring.
Tonight, I was driving home from work in Denver on 25 North. There is a long curved ramp from this Interstate to get onto 36 West, which I was in the process of navigating when I witnessed a van, maybe two car lengths in front of me, change lanes directly infront of two motorcycles. Actually, more like changing lanes INTO the two motorcycles, to be more precise. One of the bikers managed to control his braking fishtale and swerved into the left lane (luckily unoccupied at that time), but the other biker started sliding sideways. The car infront of me quickly changed lanes to avoid what was about to happen, and I got the front row seat of watching this biker finally roll once, still with his bike, then roll face first into the concrete barrier at the side of the ramp (no, he was not wearing a helmet, of course).....went limp as a doll, rolling along side the gutter, and his bike then running him over. I came to a stop in the shoulder not ten feet from where he laid on his back. Amazingly, he was not only still alive, but conscious, and I ran to him while dailing 911. I did my best trying to tell him to just lie still and that an ambulance would be on it's way soon, but he was in a great deal of pain, and his head was split wide open on the right side and partly caved in.
His partner ran to us and helped in trying to keep him calm, and luckily a passing off duty nurse and EMT stopped to help as much as they could. The ambulance and police finally arrived and took over, and it was then that I finally realized that the van that caused this accident never stopped....NOR did the people directly in front of me who witnessed the whole event as well!
I don't really know what I'm trying to say with this blog. I feel sick! Not only for what I witnessed, of course, but for the fact that these people could drive away like that! What could possibly be in thier heads to make them that way? Are we who stopped to help THAT different in make up?
This poor guy's friend kept thanking me for calling 911 as if it was an unheard of thing to do, the police as well thanked me in that same way for the very same act!
The dog that got run over twice, over two years ago, did survive, and seemed like it would do well. I doubt I will be able to say that about the biker.
I'm going to drink myself to sleep now.
The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part Seven
Part Seven: Being Windy like a Peanut
It has come to my attention recently that many cities across the states now take part in what can best be described as a Zombie Mob Day. A day where hundreds of people dress as zombies and wander the streets as if the rapture were happening now.
There is a part of me that really wants to support and possibly participate in such events, seeing as how the idea of the living dead has always been one of my favorite horror/creature subjects, and the wave of excitement that comes over me thinking about how finally the idea of zombies are becoming more widely accepted as a genre all it's own, thanks to such films as 28 Day Later (not entirely zombies, I know) and the, in my opinion, brilliant rethinking of Romero's Dawn of the Dead, as well as from Max Brook's books The Zombie Survival Guide and World War Z. But, at the same time, I almost feel as if I might be the only one who sees the dangers in such acceptance and with such events as the Zombie Mobs taking place.
One of the main reasons, in my opinion, to document and study the history of mankind and societies in general, is to learn from it. In other words, to learn from past mistakes. As individuals we are able to do this almost unfailingly. Hit a baby with a taser gun every time it tries to pet the salivating dog and eventually it'll stop trying, and most likely grow up with an unbelievable fear and hatred of dogs....but that's just a funny side effect.
As a collective we seem almost unable to do this. Hit a group of babies with a taser gun every time one tries to pet the dog and they'll blame one another, try to ban heavy metal and video games, but they'll keep trying to pet that damn dog! And will someone stop ringing that fucking bell?!!
Now, to bring this back to the subject of Zombie Mobs I'll give you all a few examples of where we should have learned better. First, Halloween....which gave people born with the condition known as "Rubber Face Syndrome", or as I like to call it, "Soup Face", a day that they could come out and mingle relatively free from blatant stares and persecution. The second, Mardi Gras....which introduced topless dancers into polite society.
And while both of these examples are relatively free of serious society altering side effects, they should at least give people pause to think about what could possibly happen when the undead feel free to join the masses of the living. I mean, just think about the number of people, in Florida especially but in other states as well, that had already been dead for sometime but still managed to vote for Bush in the past two elections!
Next I plan to combat the Tooth Fairy, who's very concept introduces children to prostitution by teaching them that it's not only ok but easy to sell your body for money.
It has come to my attention recently that many cities across the states now take part in what can best be described as a Zombie Mob Day. A day where hundreds of people dress as zombies and wander the streets as if the rapture were happening now.
There is a part of me that really wants to support and possibly participate in such events, seeing as how the idea of the living dead has always been one of my favorite horror/creature subjects, and the wave of excitement that comes over me thinking about how finally the idea of zombies are becoming more widely accepted as a genre all it's own, thanks to such films as 28 Day Later (not entirely zombies, I know) and the, in my opinion, brilliant rethinking of Romero's Dawn of the Dead, as well as from Max Brook's books The Zombie Survival Guide and World War Z. But, at the same time, I almost feel as if I might be the only one who sees the dangers in such acceptance and with such events as the Zombie Mobs taking place.
One of the main reasons, in my opinion, to document and study the history of mankind and societies in general, is to learn from it. In other words, to learn from past mistakes. As individuals we are able to do this almost unfailingly. Hit a baby with a taser gun every time it tries to pet the salivating dog and eventually it'll stop trying, and most likely grow up with an unbelievable fear and hatred of dogs....but that's just a funny side effect.
As a collective we seem almost unable to do this. Hit a group of babies with a taser gun every time one tries to pet the dog and they'll blame one another, try to ban heavy metal and video games, but they'll keep trying to pet that damn dog! And will someone stop ringing that fucking bell?!!
Now, to bring this back to the subject of Zombie Mobs I'll give you all a few examples of where we should have learned better. First, Halloween....which gave people born with the condition known as "Rubber Face Syndrome", or as I like to call it, "Soup Face", a day that they could come out and mingle relatively free from blatant stares and persecution. The second, Mardi Gras....which introduced topless dancers into polite society.
And while both of these examples are relatively free of serious society altering side effects, they should at least give people pause to think about what could possibly happen when the undead feel free to join the masses of the living. I mean, just think about the number of people, in Florida especially but in other states as well, that had already been dead for sometime but still managed to vote for Bush in the past two elections!
Next I plan to combat the Tooth Fairy, who's very concept introduces children to prostitution by teaching them that it's not only ok but easy to sell your body for money.
The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part Six
Part Six: the Sounds from Behind the Toilet
...In which we find our hero duct taped to a wall of the room filled with flesh eating eels. Will he survive? Stay tuned and find out.
The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part Five
Part Five: Closed on Account of being Soiled
I have received many messages from readers on the fact that I should make more lists of things like I did in the earlier stages of blogging. As you can tell from previous blogs, I'm trying to do just that. So get the fuck off my back about it!!
I also have received several requests to bring back the "Guess what Clint's Listening to Now?!" topic. Seeing as I have not been living in an apartment below Clint for a year now, this subject seemed moot. But still, I suppose I enjoy the idea of still trying to guess.
So, here are my guesses as to what Clint is listening to right now:
- A nice piece of progressive rock, circa 1977 or thereabouts.
- Dogs barking at nothing, and barking, and barking, and barking.
- The sounds of Bleach, as only his ears can detect.
- His redneck neighbors plot his demise.
Please feel free to add your own guesses to the list. The closest guess will win a used wetnap and the scorn of the Allen. Clint Allen and those related to Clint Allen are not only eligible, but required to submit guesses. A sandwich is only considered a sandwich when two or more slices of bread are involved. Folding the bread in half over it's contents does not make it a sandwich, but rather a sad looking mock hotdog type thing. That has really nothing to do with this post, it's just from a drunken argument I had once.
I have received many messages from readers on the fact that I should make more lists of things like I did in the earlier stages of blogging. As you can tell from previous blogs, I'm trying to do just that. So get the fuck off my back about it!!
I also have received several requests to bring back the "Guess what Clint's Listening to Now?!" topic. Seeing as I have not been living in an apartment below Clint for a year now, this subject seemed moot. But still, I suppose I enjoy the idea of still trying to guess.
So, here are my guesses as to what Clint is listening to right now:
- A nice piece of progressive rock, circa 1977 or thereabouts.
- Dogs barking at nothing, and barking, and barking, and barking.
- The sounds of Bleach, as only his ears can detect.
- His redneck neighbors plot his demise.
Please feel free to add your own guesses to the list. The closest guess will win a used wetnap and the scorn of the Allen. Clint Allen and those related to Clint Allen are not only eligible, but required to submit guesses. A sandwich is only considered a sandwich when two or more slices of bread are involved. Folding the bread in half over it's contents does not make it a sandwich, but rather a sad looking mock hotdog type thing. That has really nothing to do with this post, it's just from a drunken argument I had once.
The Story of Soggy Toast....in Ten Parts...Part Four
I have been asked several times over the past year when I'm going to move back to Louisville. In all honesty, I can't get mad at this question due to the fact that it's because I have attempted to move away three other times from that spider's web of a town, each time returning to it in just about a years time. Granted, two of the attempts landed me in Iowa, and the other, in State College PA.....so, I can't really be blamed for going back.
And, in truth, I loved Louisville. I wouldn't have moved back constantly or stayed for the amount of time there, had I not loved that place. The area is absolutely beautiful. The city has a great history that can still be felt in the old buildings of downtown and Old Louisville area. I have met and friended some of the most creative, unique and intelligent people there....and even though it's near, Louisville is not Indiana.
But, even that being said, I knew for a long time that I needed to move from there, but allowed myself to get stuck in what was basically an unhealthy situation. This is a hard subject to explain, but the just of it is that the bad started to outweigh the good for me there.
Anyone reading this who has moved around while growing up, or who has traveled enough I'm sure will agree that almost everywhere that you go in the U.S., things stay basically the same. The cities usually have the same problems with zoning, crime, racial tensions. There is always that group of people at the bar that says there is never anything to do in this town. The local radio station has that guy who is the morning commute madman dj, and the local weather interrupts your favorite show to let you know that it might sprinkle fifty miles from where you are. There are just as many constant good points, but listing the bad are always more fun. But, underneath all of this is what makes every place that you go in the states slightly different....even more so than geography. For lack of a better term, let's say that this is the town or city's attitude. This is the feeling that you get somewhere that differentiates it from everywhere else that you've been. It is the feeling spurred on by the people that you know, meet, interact with. It is even there with you when you are watching the local television, listening to local radio, or even when you find yourself totally alone.
Let's just say that for me, the attitude that I attributed with Louisville had for years become almost unbearable.
Once that starts to happen you begin to notice the other things about an area that you consider negative. Like I said before, Louisville contains some of the most intelligent, creative people that I have ever been fortunate enough to meet. I have also said that Louisville is a spider's web. Most of those people will never actually do anything with their talent or dreams. Louisville is a very very easy place to live in, which makes it also a very hard place to leave or get beyond. In my opinion, I'd have to say that at least 90% of anyone worth a damn in that town will never accomplish anything. Hell, most of the successful artists, musicians and writer's you hear of from Louisville are people that have come from there, only being noticed after having left. It is a very rare thing for one to become successful while staying there.
It's true that every so often there is an attempt to revive the artistic culture within the town, and while these attempts are valiant, they more often than not turn into nothing more than gatherings of wine drinking squishy peoples who spend their time talking shit on those who happened not to be present at the time, only to act like their best friends upon encountering them later. Not only that, but I have watched the great music scene slowly dwindle to the point of closet dust over the years....so much so that touring bands won't hardly even consider Louisville for a resting point. Hell, even Dave Chappel vowed that he would never return to the city due to the lack of respect he was shown during his show there.
Honestly, I'm not trying to offend anyone with this post, it's more of an explanation of why I left and why my answer to the questions of when I will be moving back is, never. I do miss Louisville. I miss my close friends, the large trees and beautiful architecture. I miss the feeling of inspiration that I originally felt upon moving there. I miss the comfortable feeling of knowing my surroundings like my own skin and not being able to walk a whole block without running into a friend. I miss the Bristol (the old haunt) and their Green Chili Wantons. I miss Chai at Highland Coffee and being able to walk anywhere that I needed to get to.
But, I don't miss any of this enough to want to live there again.
Despite all of this, I am still a fan of Louisville. I lived in that city for longer than anyplace else my entire life, and for that reason I will always consider it my home town, that and also because Kansas City won't let me consider it for that due to the fact that I'm not a fan of Bar B Que.
I only hate Louisville about 10%.
And, in truth, I loved Louisville. I wouldn't have moved back constantly or stayed for the amount of time there, had I not loved that place. The area is absolutely beautiful. The city has a great history that can still be felt in the old buildings of downtown and Old Louisville area. I have met and friended some of the most creative, unique and intelligent people there....and even though it's near, Louisville is not Indiana.
But, even that being said, I knew for a long time that I needed to move from there, but allowed myself to get stuck in what was basically an unhealthy situation. This is a hard subject to explain, but the just of it is that the bad started to outweigh the good for me there.
Anyone reading this who has moved around while growing up, or who has traveled enough I'm sure will agree that almost everywhere that you go in the U.S., things stay basically the same. The cities usually have the same problems with zoning, crime, racial tensions. There is always that group of people at the bar that says there is never anything to do in this town. The local radio station has that guy who is the morning commute madman dj, and the local weather interrupts your favorite show to let you know that it might sprinkle fifty miles from where you are. There are just as many constant good points, but listing the bad are always more fun. But, underneath all of this is what makes every place that you go in the states slightly different....even more so than geography. For lack of a better term, let's say that this is the town or city's attitude. This is the feeling that you get somewhere that differentiates it from everywhere else that you've been. It is the feeling spurred on by the people that you know, meet, interact with. It is even there with you when you are watching the local television, listening to local radio, or even when you find yourself totally alone.
Let's just say that for me, the attitude that I attributed with Louisville had for years become almost unbearable.
Once that starts to happen you begin to notice the other things about an area that you consider negative. Like I said before, Louisville contains some of the most intelligent, creative people that I have ever been fortunate enough to meet. I have also said that Louisville is a spider's web. Most of those people will never actually do anything with their talent or dreams. Louisville is a very very easy place to live in, which makes it also a very hard place to leave or get beyond. In my opinion, I'd have to say that at least 90% of anyone worth a damn in that town will never accomplish anything. Hell, most of the successful artists, musicians and writer's you hear of from Louisville are people that have come from there, only being noticed after having left. It is a very rare thing for one to become successful while staying there.
It's true that every so often there is an attempt to revive the artistic culture within the town, and while these attempts are valiant, they more often than not turn into nothing more than gatherings of wine drinking squishy peoples who spend their time talking shit on those who happened not to be present at the time, only to act like their best friends upon encountering them later. Not only that, but I have watched the great music scene slowly dwindle to the point of closet dust over the years....so much so that touring bands won't hardly even consider Louisville for a resting point. Hell, even Dave Chappel vowed that he would never return to the city due to the lack of respect he was shown during his show there.
Honestly, I'm not trying to offend anyone with this post, it's more of an explanation of why I left and why my answer to the questions of when I will be moving back is, never. I do miss Louisville. I miss my close friends, the large trees and beautiful architecture. I miss the feeling of inspiration that I originally felt upon moving there. I miss the comfortable feeling of knowing my surroundings like my own skin and not being able to walk a whole block without running into a friend. I miss the Bristol (the old haunt) and their Green Chili Wantons. I miss Chai at Highland Coffee and being able to walk anywhere that I needed to get to.
But, I don't miss any of this enough to want to live there again.
Despite all of this, I am still a fan of Louisville. I lived in that city for longer than anyplace else my entire life, and for that reason I will always consider it my home town, that and also because Kansas City won't let me consider it for that due to the fact that I'm not a fan of Bar B Que.
I only hate Louisville about 10%.