Vlog 4- Young Folks

Watch the 4th vlog from Korea *here*

Over Educated

Last night, my last class ended at 10:30 PM. Strictly speaking, this is illegal; schools in Korea cannot run past 10. Regardless, one of the girls in that class rolled her eyes when I assigned homework (required by the school) and told me "Teacher, I am so tired!" I responded, "Well go home and get some sleep, then do your homework in the morning silly! (It was only a few sentences)" She broke my heart, and said "I can't, I am going to math academy now..."

She genuinely looked exhausted, yawning, and barely able to keep her eyes open. She was probably at math academy until past midnight, and after copious amounts of homework, didn't go to sleep until around 2 or 3 am, only to wake up at 6 or 7am to do it all over again. Now strictly speaking, this is illegal, but regardless, it happens, all the time, all over.

Images and visions overwhelmed my mind. Memories of climbing trees, playing Super Mario Kart on Super Nintendo, eating snacks in the afternoon in my neighbors backyard and playing cops and robbers, sitting and wondering, just wondering. I remembered so much free time, so much fun and games, so much roaming and exploration. I remembered boredom, and laughter, and imagination. Then my mind traveled back to that girl again, who once before told me she doesn't like doing anything with her free time, she is too busy studying... She wants to make her parent's proud.

I remember my Mom being proud of me just for making it to first base in little league baseball.

I understand that the parents in Korea want the best for their children, they want them to find success no matter what. They are pushing them due to the immense love that they have for their children and their country, their ancestors and themselves. It is out of love.

Can anyone tell me what the point of succeeding is? To what end does success bring. Status? Power? Money? Happiness? Happiness? Happiness?

Happiness, Love, Power, Money, Status, Possession, Memory, Emotion, Regret, Desire, Joy, Pain, Passion, Boredom, Happiness. It all ends forever. At any moment, it all ends. All we have is right now. Now. Now.

Where is the balance? She needs sleep. Where are her dreams? She needs laughter. Where is her boredom? She needs wonder.

Where is the balance?

Vlog the third

The third vlog living in Korea, featuring our apartment!!

Vlog #3

Vlog #2 SK

Second Vlog. I'll show you the apartment in #3.

Vlog

Vlog #1 SOUTH KOREA!!!

My first vlog living in SK. Living, Loving, Learning.

http://youtu.be/a2Z5Q5DjK6E

Gay as Hell

I just heard a really cool set of dialogue:

"If I were in charge of this country I would ban heterosexual marriage!"

"What? Why?"

"Because heteros breed too much. Gay men tend to adopt, and in an overcrowded world why would any reasonable person discourage them in any way!?"

Heh, never thought about that.

Also, gay marriage, animal marriage, lampshade marriage... who the fuck cares??

Frequency

Everything in our reality, including ourselves, is emitting, and is linked to a particular frequency, or vibration.

Here is a playlist my friend Jackson shared with me which has helped me and many others now in my life to alter our own brain's frequencies without having to succumb to the sometimes overarching ardor of certain types of yoga or meditation, especially in the instant gratification/downright lazy society that just about all of us are a part of herenow. One would be hard pressed to find an easier way to calm the mind and uplift one's consciousness.

No one and nothing will hand you the key to change your life, inside and out. You must do that yourself. You must be the key, and the door.

Jut let it play in the background, or meditate while listening, with or without headphones.

There are a ton of other tracks all over youtube and on the web as well. Search around, find which frequency makes you feel best. Observe your feelings, and take your time.

Give it a try. Expand, and grow.

!!!Playlist!!!

Some initial reading for ya: 1, 2, 3

Thrice Rap

My Third Rap

The original track was created by Metaform and is called Bubblegum, from the album Standing on the Shoulders of Giants.

Have a listen: ClIcKy CLICky

Light Beam

Back in the day we would head to the party scene

moon gleam house beam

lights blue red and green girls

on the attic level step to the wailing treble clef

big loose bouncing breasts arrest me, confess

see best on beer and L-S-D, and bets be clear, okay

ill let all twelve undress me but be careful down there

cause he gets testy! blear the beats and let the neighbors fear

that unless we, decide to waiver our attention span

toward the next beat, and onto the next street, and

unless I'm going home with this girlie,

we aint stopping earlier then early,

might as well join us cause the destination surly,

pack a bowl, steady soul condoles an ancient yearning,

line the cups, kiss the ball for good luck and throw it toward a stouty mush,

oh the line is getting heavy?

yeah well we don't really give a fuck,

I solemnly promise without your fancy strut,

cheer will bloom inside like you were a chia rug,

admit!

your only in my room to get a couple nugs

and as luck would have it

I need a few bucks to restock

the pbr and tomorrows lunch, swallow all that bitter stuff

persuading you your not enough

find a hobby, drug, ambition, mission, or a better stunt,

either way we know the way, three kegs and they pay, two more on Tuesday,

and that's the weeks beginning,

winning since the entire spectrum of education

is laced with potent living,

and at 21 receive a riveting rendition

of a tradition where modern man's young sits to listen, it goes

Manhood is now consisting of consistent pissing in arbitrary locations and wishing for a better vocation is just a persistent mind misfit curable with whatever's listed on the drug companies hit list. and listless, as you search for the mystic rest assured, your taxes cover big brothers attempt to kill your mind and craft another, perpetually preventing wonder and setting asunder your only true chance to satiate a primordial hunger. Until then enjoy the blunder, party hardy and always wear a rubber.

Rap #2

I made another one.

Click it!!

Lonely Heresy

I go toe to toe like a busy body on everybody’s team,

and if it weren’t for the tryptamines that drift into my body during dreams

it would seem that deprivation from the in between

could color more explicitly the algorithm of the mystery,

and dissolve into history

the present tense a salty sea

hell bent and heavenly,

the paradox crafts a litany of disregard and seeming scars

the penitence on par with the bright white shining through,

it is you, and unlearning what you have learned will be your guru

in the openness and ecstasy and temperament to be a true fool,

sage soothe, why wait patience is a virtue

and in lieu of what we knew to be true its on cue

Manjushri has a sword of flame to tame a mewtwo

lurking deep inside a vein that courses blood to fangs

in an attempt to maim

drolling mental doctors who rebuke and claim and critically exclaim

without refrain you are clinically insane

the mistress of mischief

disaster on her midrift

hid the reason binding her to live without deciding our fate at a distance

and if you missed this let me repeat myself with two fists

one says punch drunk and the other bliss

I’ll let you choose which, switch, enough of this time

to write a hit, Crush the Alchemy was dear to me and

3 beats from heresy but I can amanita senoritas and still speak serious, gregarious

have no fear of getting lit or else youll burn up delirious quick

brick by heavy brick brick walls grow thick

and sieze the sun’s rifts from hitting perfect pitch,

stream to me in nano when your nerve ends twitch

so I can sample their displacement with a fibbonoci sequence,

the reason? To teach a lesson spanning seasons,

a king received a golden right that said this too shall pass

and freely gave away his mass, and every last chance

hysteria his more complacent half, adjacent to his laugh

because its funny how it is funny,

something’s gotta give so we can stay nutty,

and strip this silly city garb to nothing, and get lost in OM

It plays my heart’s string

encompassing illusory dream founded in everything,

Mara I denounce you as my beauty queen cause

I’m a solitary stolid seeker searching for the real thing, my self and what it doesn’t mean

Salad Fingers episode 9

New Salad Fingers Episode 9:

Hubert Cumberdale, you taste like soot and poop!

This is the first salad fingers in 3 years. I missed you buddy.

Comrades, I've had a startling thought.

What if the only thing achieved by "wish pokemon were real day" is the mass unlocking of every zoo's cage, every pet's collar, every wild animal's self awareness... a factory of fear and carnage.

I don't mean so sound subversive, but take a look at this lady.

Utter mayhem... The article tells us that comrades "threw their cages open and commited suicide in what may have been one last act of spite against his nighbors and police."

Let us face reality comrades, these prophets had faith in the coming pokeworld. Their family and neighbors refused to admit the very heavy reality of WPWR day, treating it as a farce, or a simple fairy tale. These WPWR beleivers gave us all a warning of what is to come. Do not allow their deaths to have been in vain.

If you choose to wish, be sure to do it safely. Have pokeball in hand and be ready to catch those that are close or seem dangerous. If not for yours, then for my sake.

I cannot afford pokeballs. <---- this dapper bug cathcer doesnt even allow returns.

Help.

Off the Record

I’m probably a few threads away from entering a deep Samadhi state.

I’m very close to hopping on a series of trains and traveling to Oaxaca Mexico.

I’m in the mood to dethrone my political and economic leaders and hold auction for the title of ruler, sold to the most interesting bidder.

I’m wrapped, in a series of thoughts that keep returning to the same blank-less stare.

In a few moments I will sully my chances to observe a traditional “ego sacrifice.”

I am breathing. I am breathing.

I am alone on my island

that is surrounded

by countless other lonely islands.

I

am

so

hysterical

most of the time that I keep my mouth shut.

I will move forward and spend much time in the past. I climb stairways only to forget multiple items that I had meant to bring with me. I traverse fields at night and try my utmost to remain pragmatic regarding lurking monsters and hatted figures.

I’m already altered. I’m in no need of power and greedily seize most that is handed to me.

Eight years from now, my lover and I are riding on the back of elephants for the second time and naming them.

Eight years from tomorrow I discover a better way to wipe my ass hole, and my children never know anything of the first method.

Eight years from yesterday I am still pretending in my head that I am a ronin, and I am still intentionally getting lost in forest preserves.

Eight years from two years ago today, I am able to grow a proper mustache to accompany my beard. Eight years from tonight I am reminding myself that love is what matters.

Seven years from now I will plan an adventure to Sao Paolo Brazil that will have to be postponed.

Six years from now I will be taking the last warm swig of a 1 day old Miller High Life (champaign of beer).

Five years from now I won't be invited to my friend Andrew’s going away party.

Four years from now I’ll be too lazy to refill my water glass even though I’ll be thirsty.

Three years from now I’ll know 5 digits of the Fibonacci sequence

Two years from now I will dream of being taken against my will to stand vigil over a cosmic body of my choosing.

One year from now I’ll be imagining how my life would have unfolded had I never ingested any sort of tryptamine.

I like how it’s always a fucking mystery with this guy, you know, life. I like how we trick ourselves into believing our tricks. I love how the ride comes from nowhere and returns. I love that nothing makes any sense.

I am glad I am human and not something worse.

Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om Om

Om

Addendum 3: I would like to alter this space-time so that humans have wings, and that all devices meant explicitly for war were never invented except broad swords and wakizashis and Crocodile Dundee Gigantic Hunting Knives, because close ranged winged battles are just so much more gentlemanly than long range missiles.

Crush the Alchemy

So, I wrote a rap and layered it with an amazing track by an artist named Metaform. The original piece is called 'Crush' and is from, in my opinion, his best album, 'On the Shoulders of Giants.'

I named it 'Crush the Alchemy.'

Let me know what you think!

Click here to hear it!

Below are the lyrics:

break beats and melodies streaming right in front of me

my eyes the hieroglyphic treble clef translate topography,

and honestly, without a beat

at 23,

I can free a stanza of its syntax and still be 120 b-

pm, the night threatens to never end,

it’ll lend some labor toward the sky

and we can start again,

pretend it all depends on how you tend to make friends

and count the third as real since the pineal still has a lens,

then,

the jetty eddy in a stream full and steady,

mystical and mythical I know that they’ll let me,

grab a mic and stay tight under the spotlight

fixed on my flow, you know that everything will be alright

My centerfold is six fold, too bold, stars glow,

truth be told its all soul,

trees bend don’t mend

even nature can’t ignore this shit...

paralytic rhetoric rapidly rolling off his quick lip,

he’s hip,

and pays close attention

to them others rapping but he stays in the back laughing

picking up his ego cuz he threw it in the trash bin

quasi holy with a bit of sin, he’ll always win

Get him pinned and you’ll put him in attack mode

consciousness expansion the objective

not given a shiny shit the goal, yo,

welcome to my strong hold

a hole filled with meta anticipatory strong joe

spiked with jolly molly augmented espresso

its gold

meaning that I’m hype from the get go,

ladies and gentlemen please let go of your halos

and find the meaning

of the supersonic hyperbolic metatronic payload,

only far away cause you proclaim so,

I’m only here to bring you closer so you may know

the drift pinch is a cinch that you don’t have to

k-hole to be shown.

so get blown, or hone your skills

just keep in mind, its life that kills

who was it catching blind daily grind to pay the bills?

who was it perma-gathering chills and frills?

you, the entity you dream will ensue beyond the death hue

what a damn fool,

and everything and everyone and every place you think you knew,

yeah well me too!

so even though I’m almost outta body

spit these lyrics knotty knuckled fists

with more power than Gatti with a triple shotty,

hotty with the body let me meet ya

I can make ya naughty any party

with a proper beat and getting real rowdy

call me if you’re looking for a fan

of the fun fodder, flows that go boom boom

and range from hot to bothered,

if you want it louder

introduce ya to my megaphone

and call reptilians to beam me up

and leave my world alone!

my theta waves are universally known,

and university grown,

stardom a stones throw from being a dead zone,

on a mission from annihilation

to have my break beats shown

and crooked beats evolve to satiation

the soul,

hello,

you may remember me,

I’m called your inner enemy

shape and form identical to third eye physiology,

its all in me, the history and present tense

its got to be without a doubt the alchemy of love

and staying free,

now, take eternity and find a seat beneath

the bodhi tree.

Will Work 4 Soul

So I went applying for jobs today. The first restaurant I went to is called Wildfire. It's pretty upscale and has been alive for 8 years. Lots of business and high prices; just what I'm looking for.

I take a seat in the bar area to fill out my application and notice that directly in front of my nose on the table is a dead, upside down rolly polly.

I do what any sensible primate does when faced with this predicament; I poked the rolly polly to test its level of dead. As my pointer finger made quasi-gross contact and spun the bug on its shell 180 degrees like a handicap break dancer, it began to squirm.

Laying atop my table was a live, upside down, squirming rolly polly. I brushed it onto the floor just as the manager came to check on me. I was tempted to impromptu add 'exterminator' to my previous job experience.

How did that rolly polly get there? Why was it upside down?

Musically

Wax Tailor, a name you may or may not have ever heard before.

Check him out either way-

Here, take these, quick! Pills-Magics-Soups-Somas

Forgo Stargaze

I don’t know what I’m doing here. Or any of us for that matter.

I don’t truly feel that any time has elapsed since birth. I have memories, yes, but that does not imply that any time has elapsed. ‘Time is relative.’ I think enough people understand this mathematically or have experienced this that its well hammered into our heads enough to take it for granted, which is a sure sign that something is true. But this means that the entire Universe could very well be a moment long, or just as likely an eternity… an eternal moment??

So it feels as though no time has passed in all my life.

When I think ‘how long does it feel since you were 10’ I think 10 minutes at most, not much. And ‘how long does it feel since I was last at work’ and I think a few hours, but how can that be. It’s all in your head bro. You made time up. I did that. I made up time to experience a journey. (you made that up)

So I don’t know what I’m doing here. Or any of us.

Dreams. That’s the unmade expereince. I didn’t make those. Who the hell is I??

I don’t know. I don’t even know where here is, and the here apparently doesn’t know who I is. But if I and here exist within a construct that is time or at very least contains time, does that imply that I and here are relative. Changing, only changing? And I thought time was made up by I anyway. Then that means I lives within I? I experiences I. Why?

Why is a delusion. Then how?

… and for how long- instantly forever. I can’t be anything more or less than myself and whatever capability that title contains. So I can only be I, and due to relativity, that means everything instantly forever.

Maybe not.

I hoped that by this time in my life I would have at least some beginning semblance of understanding of something, anything. I am still just as deeply notched in the labyrinth though. We thought we witnessed God, or some kind of truth. Delusions. Part of the labyrinth. Part of I.

Nothing wrong with delusions anyhow. No wrong or right. Life is a delusion.

The delusion.

Objectivity an imaginative farce. Mystery the only reality.

Actually enigmatic actuality.

In dreams.

These thoughts, these senses- waiting, or perhaps simply being- this eternal moment. Yugen.

"To watch the sun sink behind a flower clad hill. To wander on in a huge forest without thought of return. To stand upon the shore and gaze after a boat that disappears behind distant islands. To contemplate the flight of wild geese seen and lost among the clouds. And, subtle shadows of bamboo on bamboo."

What do these all have in common?

Maybe that’s the whole point. Yugen.

Eurocity

A customer told me the other day "Americans are the hardest working people in the world! Take Europeans; in Europe people work to live, but here in good ol' Mamerica we live to work!"

He told me this with a level of pride and confidence not unlike The Brain.

Anyone else want to be European?

The Power of Words

For over ten thousand years humans have used, depended on, and created different combinations of words and tones imbued with specific intention. These strings of syllables are known as mantra, and they have been known to be infinitely powerful in affecting ourselves and the world around us.

Mantra has been used to create a level of peace in ones surroundings, to alter the effects of certain harmful substances, to cure sickness, to reach deep levels of awareness, and as a tool to reach enlightenment. It can even be used to just plain old feel good.

Many practitioners of mantra/meditation recommend that one should stick to mantras that already exist and have already been chanted by millions of people throughout time. The reason for this is that everything in this world, including the world itself, contains a particular frequency, and that frequency has a direct effect on the frequency of ones consciousness, or awareness. The frequency a mantra that has been chanted throughout all of known human existence, by over billions of people, will be far more concrete as the intention and frequency of the mantra has been saved, restored, and resubmitted to the human collective consciousness so many times that its purpose and meaning is relatively more concrete than one created on the spot. How does the mantra "Love, Harmony, Peace," make you feel? And now, how does the mantra "lay down weapons" make you feel? The first, I am guessing, is a lot more direct and understandable in regards to its affect upon your awareness.

The reasoning also has to do with the fact that ancient Sanskrit, the tongue of many well known mantras, was created with the intention of affecting human thought and consciousness on a far deeper level than strictly communication. The effects of the language on the human form have been described as magical.

I can attest personally to this great power.

Mantra has always appealed to me far greater than any other form of meditation simply because the effects upon me were always the most noticeable. I can remember a time during my sophomore year of college, walking back to my apartment from class, I decided to chant my favorite mantra Om Mani Padme Hum aloud. I remember deciding I would not stop at least until I walked into my room. I was on the complete other side of campus so I had just over a mile to walk. As I began chanting, it took effort to remember to continue, to not be distracted by my surroundings, to not be distracted by my thoughts and the eyes of onlookers.

As I continued though, it became exponentially easier to chant with every step I took, to the point that the chant completely took over, and I was no longer the one doing the chanting, my body was doing it on its own. I was watching myself walk down the road, watching the ROTC doing war games, watching people of all shapes and sizes and colors hop onto buses or cross the street, and I was watching my mouth move as I heard my voice utter over and over, calmly and endlessly, Om Mani Padme Hum, Om Mani Padme Hum, Om.... I must have looked crazy my smile was so wide, my eyes stretched open, my heart spewing with compassion for every molecule in each blade of grass and every photon in each ray of sunlight. Everything around me took on a new level of beauty and complexity. The world became exciting, thrilling, wonderful! It felt like a trip, pure euphoria, and it was all due to the repetition of a few foreign words. Awe-some

And for those of us skeptics too lazy to try something before tearing it to pieces, there is scientific evidence of the effect that simple words have on ourselves and our environment. Dr. Emoto's work is, to say the least, revolutionary! Check this shit out: Clicky! Clicky! Clicky!

Teeth, Teeth, They're Good for Your Heart...

We all know how much dough dentists stack up due to the filth that builds up between our teeth. Shit ton! And you thought garbage men had it good!

Toothpaste is recommended to be used 2, 3, or even 4 times a day, which means it is being constantly absorbed into our bodies. Well check this out; glycerin, a main ingredient in most toothpastes found on the market, may be a major reason for the endless cavities plaguing society's cake hole. While many of the ingredients used by major toothpaste manufacturers are arguably completely negative to our biological system (with the exception of blessing our bacteria infested mouths with fresh, minty breath!) let's focus on glycerin.

Apparently, glycerin coats the teeth and does not allow the teeth to re-mineralize, strengthening the enamel of your teeth, and in turn making them look like polished pearls.

"Your tooth enamel is in a constant state of flux between- demineralizing and remineralizing. Although this process is microscopic on a daily level, a poor diet combined with poor dental hygiene can quite rapidly cause your enamel to weaken over months and eventually to cause decay with certainty over years."

The key? check out this site

Toothpaste I’ve just switched to: PASTED Glycerin free.

Now the next step is to make my own toothpaste, with; salt and baking soda 50/50 mixture, and adding hydrogen peroxide, that stuff your mom used to pour on your cuts that hurt worse than heartache!

Real Life Poetry!

My girlfriend is an amazing artist. Whether it be colored pencil, pastel, jewelry, or her most inspiring works, collages, I always find myself amazed by what she brings to life. Here is an homage to the Brahma within her.

Claire the Creator

She has a magic wand that has the power
to give even the whitest space color, to spread life and shadows
to a boring void, to give wholeness to emptiness.

She has the power inside of her to create
vast worlds filled with twists and surprises, and rock crevices
where light bounces emphatically from one ocher ridge
to another.

She has a mind with thoughts that torrent and
rush from synapses as vividly as the crystalline curves
of her eyes perceiving the magic they help to craft.

She has the poise of a goddess whose vision perches
in thoughts and whose charm and nature can be found in its creation;
technicolor transformations beginning with -blank- and
finding themselves upon walls evolved.