Saturday, April 30, 2005

Walls of Stone

I got back a few hours ago from a business trip to Conneticutt and after deleting the 154 spam emails and reading the legit 32, I felt I had to write this down before time went by and it slipped away.

Conneticutt is a beautiful area. Almost all of the homes I saw were massive and incredibly well kept. Almost all of them had gorgeous barns on the land that I would just love to get inside of. I've always had a thing for barns. But what will truly stick with me isn't the barns, the historic homes or the great seafood dinner I ate.

It's the stone walls.

They're everywhere you look. They surround and frame and criss-cross the land. You see them from back roads. You see them from the Interstate. You see them from the hotel.

They're beautiful in a way. Beautiful the way "cellar door" has been described as the most beautiful two words in the english language. But they're also haunting.

From the highway you can see them in overgrown forests that look as if no one has stepped there in centuries. This goes on for miles. You won't see a single house anywhere - but there'll be long lead-colored ribbons of stone walls that seem to chase your car as you drive.

On long trips my mind begins to wander. Usually it's tying up loose ends of stories I've been thinking about or else I see someone drive by and start making up tales about that person.

Yes. I know I'm easily amused.

But today my mind kept coming back to those endless stone walls.

Long ago someone built them by hand, rock by heavy rock. They were built to keep livestock in, or other things out. Time passed and land changed hands or people died or the place got foreclosed on... whatever... and those walls of stone and their purpose were forgotten.

We each build walls of stone in our minds, some of us without even realizing it. We build them to keep our livestock in. Or to keep other things out.

Time passes and sometimes we stumble upon those walls, often forgetting why we went through the trouble of building them in the first place. This idea bothered me for some reason and for the better part of the four hour drive my mind chewed on this like a terrier with a meatbone.

We can't help but build our walls. I think it's our nature to put them around what's ours with heavy pieces of rock. To protect our weak spots as best we can.

I finally realized those dark spaces between the rocks are what I'm really interested in. Those little spaces where the stuff we want to protect seeps out no matter how much we try to prevent it.

That's where the stories are.

Thursday, April 28, 2005


I'm stating for the record... the new NIN release, With Teeth, is my cd of the year.

little lyrical excerpt:

what if everything around you...
isn't quite as it seems?

what if all the world you think you know...
is an elaborate dream?

and if you look at your reflection...
is that all you want to be?

what if you could look right through the cracks..
would you find yourself.. find yourself afraid to see?

what if all the world's inside of your head?
just creations of your own?

your devils and your gods, all the living and the dead.
and you're really all alone.

you can live in this illusion
you can choose to believe.

nin - right where it belongs.

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

quote of the day

a rash of dealing with the sheer and complete stupidity of several of my clients has forced this thought to my mind:

What I lack in raw muscle, I make up for with violent psychotic episodes.

Friday, April 15, 2005

Free Ride Angie

The April edition of Insidious Reflections is out and you can check it out here:

My short, Free Ride Angie is in there, along with some other great writers - one of which is Bryan Smith, author of the Leisure release "House of Blood," which is selling very well.

Busier than a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest.

More soon...

Friday, April 01, 2005

Ode to Caffeine

I have a very strong fear that I've burned out my caffeine receptors. Last night I drank four cups of coffee and fell asleep at the keyboard. Of course, it could have something to do with the marathon work session I've been dealing with.

Regardless... had to mention this...

One of my recent joys had to do with my son who will turn 2 in July. My wife does not like hard music. No Nine Inch Nails. No Alice in Chains. No SoundGarden.

Which is why I play it for him on the way to daycare. Because he enjoys it. We have our own little thrash session in the truck while we drive and he does a bout of headbanging in his car seat and gets him pumped up for his day. It's a fun little routine.

Two days ago I got a copy of Ozzy Osbourne's version of Mississippi Queen (which, incidentally, is an excellent cover), burned it, and abso-fucking-lutely CRANKED IT on the stereo. The fish were hiding behind their plastic coral reef. The cats peeked from behind pillows. The dogs ran like wild hyenas in the shadow of a rogue elephant.

And my children and I made a mosh pit in the living room.

Have you ever seen a 1 and a half year old mosh? He began head banging and throwing his arm out, pointing in an angry Public Enemy style, and then bum rushing right into me.

My wife, upon coming into the livingroom to see why it sounded as if the voice of God was speaking in the house and then witnessing our little event, commented that it probably isn't such a great idea to teach him how to mosh as he may cause a riot of midgets at daycare when they start playing Elmo music in the afternoons and he starts moshing into the other children.

I happen to think it's great practice for life.