Before I left my house, I threw open every window and invited the day to come and stay with me for a while. Maybe we could have desert and coffee later tonight. A light breeze came in from the window in my study and blew open an encyclopedia that was resting upon a pile of research. Glancing over at it, I saw that it was volume P and it had opened up to page 130, "Perfect Day" which was mostly blank except for the words "See June 4, 2005".

I said goodbye to the day that was inside of my house and hello to it's brothers and sisters outside. The river is only a short walk from my home, maybe five blocks at the most and on my way there I could see that everyone in my neighborhood had also noticed how nice it was outside and that they too were taking advantage of it. Some of them were out cooking lunch on the grill, some were washing their cars and others were simply sitting on the porch and staring at the sky. Briefly, I imagined children running around w... ]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/8820909/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/8820909/ Fri, 19 May 2006 22:16:27 PDT

* Before you start to comment with "Are you alright over there?", there's no need. I'm simply tired and I feel like writing a journal under the influence of Hunter S. Thompson and some mighty good cold medication. At the same time, this is not a work of fiction and I encourage you to read if you've ever wondered about the invisible life of yours truly since this is probably the only time you'll get anything in plain English. I'm sure I'll regret this in the morning.

There's something about this place I live, something unnatural. Or could it be that there's something unnatural about me and I'm going to be the last person to find out? I doesn't matter at this point in time, what matters is this bug that eats away at the very thread of my being like some gluttonous moth in a closet full of rational thought; soft cotton thoughts.

It's half past midnight and I've surrendered to the realization that I don't fit in here. In this place where homes are looked upon as storefronts to your inner workings. Where a weed on your lawn sticks out like a pimple on some prepubescent girl's face at the prom and she clings to the wall because nobody wants to talk to her. But this home isn't a storefront; there's nothing for sale here. No stories of great wealth or ten year old bottles of French wine. There are no white carpets or maids walking around picking up after me and telling me how wonderful I am. No, this is the nut house.

I can only imagine what these people think when I walk out my front door. I wear a plaid wool shirt, like some hunter might wear on his way to drink in the woods with his shotgun pals. I drive a pickup truck in a place where people's cars are either way too small or way too fucking big. I stick out like a sore thumb and I love every minute of it.

It's a foul place. More foul than any ghetto I've ever lived in. Hell, at least in the ghetto your neighbour would stop and say hello before he talked shit about you. At least you got that small bit of respect. It's a different kind of place, the ghetto. It's a place where as long as you don't smell of fear, you can be one with the dirt. Where, if you're down to Earth, the Earth is down with you. But not here, not out in this place of narcissistic aspirations. The suburbs are a place where young dreams go to die along with every moral fibre of your being while reaching for that great, shiny brass ring. Hell, even the word itself is ominous when looked at in a literal light. The prefix sub being more commonly used in some demeaning form of classification like “subhuman” or “substandard”. I never wanted to be sub anything. Yet here I am, below and less than complete – sub.

I'm far away from my home. Far away from Detroit and moving much farther away from reality than I care to understand. Spending countless hours alone in Suburbia hooked on cold medication and wondering when the hell my ex-wife is going to come by and try to kick me out of this place. I'm sure she intends on taking everything she can get her hands on even though this entire situation was brought on by her. Packaged quite nicely in deceitful wrapping paper with a card that said “I'm leaving to pursue the BDSM lifestyle since you refuse to share me with other men.” Suburban women – they're so full of shit. Why the hell did I ever get married to that basket case? I mean, I should have known but I was just too alone and too desperate to see the signs. Think twice guys. Think three or four times if you have to. We're in the twenty first century and marriage is a tired, senile institution.

So let's wind this up. It is now five to one and my pills are starting to work their magic on my ears, causing them to ring which in turn causes my head to feel lighter and lighter until finally I begin to crash staring at the wall wondering why I'm not in bed and wishing I had some pot, a woman and an eight track playing Bob Dylan.

It's one AM in suburbia and I'm asleep in a ghetto of thoughts.

Poetry and Prose Community on deviantART
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Everything But The Bottle

[ static one | static two ]

`radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/8606545/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/8606545/ Thu, 27 Apr 2006 21:15:37 PDT

Mood: trepanation hurts
Listening to: 'Ol Mr. Young
Reading: Lyric Poetry: Beyond New Criticism

Eating: Black Beans & Rice
Drinking: Responsibly
Looking:Out my back door
Wondering:If you'd love me only for my shoelaces.

My phone rang last night. It was the middle of the night, or so I thought anyway, I can't be certain. My first impulse was to look at the clock rather than answer the phone, but the clock must have been quite tired and, hearing the noise, rolled over and buried its head under a clock pillow.

The first ring was like something touching your foot while you're swimming at the beach. You know something touched your foot, you can't see it and so it startles you a bit and splashes you with the notion that something is down there, and it likes your foot.

The second ring was the seaweed that touched your foot. It's on the surface of the water now, saying hello and trying to explain to you, in seaweed language, that it fancies your foot and you realize that it was seaweed, and now its ringing like a phone on the nightstand. But again you squint at the dark, and it's is a phone which, coincidentally, never touched your foot but now your hand is awake wants to touch it.
[...]

I just wanted to share that with you all. Some day I'll finish it if I can find a prosemonkey willing to work for bananas.

O, call not me to justify the wrong
That thy unkindness lays upon my heart
Better yet, don't call at 4AM when you're wasted
and puking your guts out with your "gay" boyfriend,
mm'k?

Getting random calls on Skype is interesting. I never expected my installation to actually be working let alone accepting calls. And then, some odd sound (I didn't recognize the ringing sound of the program). Hello? Drunk Australians calling. Well, that was entertaining, bye now.

Other random people can feel free to Skype me: radiovillain

I'm getting around to my backlog of comments. If I haven't responded to you, hang tight. OK? OK.

That's all for now. I merely wanted to clear away my last journal for some deep rooted, type-A-without-actually-being-type-A reason.

Toodle pip!

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Everything But The Bottle

[ static one | static two ]



"Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to be always part of unanimity."
-- Christopher Morley

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/8571700/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/8571700/ Mon, 24 Apr 2006 13:51:55 PDT

Warning: This journal is completely random.

A thought map:

• I have a +5 to annoy.


• I have become some kind of last.fm addict.


• Emily has pale legs and a drunk cat.


• When I was 16 I wrote poetry.
  
  • It was NOT poetry.


• Exploited? Barmy Army!


• Shows (concerts) at the Graystone Hall in Detroit were only $4.00 and all ages.
  
  • Jolt Cola was $1 per cup.
  
  
  • Seeing Glen Danzig get high on coke and fall down the stairs: priceless.


• Boredom: Tattoo a random number on your body between one and one hundred that represents a person you know.
  
  • Hypothetical: Which number would you prefer to be if I were to do such a thing?


• Do not use the word “love” when commenting. Save it for pick up lines.


• Why do we eat Hot Dogs when we know what they're made of?


• Burger King commercials are disturbing.


• In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities; in the expert's there are few.
  
  • If you discriminate too much, you limit yourself.
  
  
  • If you are too demanding or too greedy, your mind is not rich and self-sufficient.


• I need a back massage.

Idea of the week:
we need to recreate every nude DD from the past like 6 months, with a male 40-something
same poses and quality, but a balding middle aged man

New for those who are interested in workshopping:
Literature Forum Poetry Workshop
Literature Forum Prose Workshop

Poetry and Prose Community on deviantART
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[ static one | static two ]



"Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to be always part of unanimity."
-- Christopher Morley

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/8501869/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/8501869/ Mon, 17 Apr 2006 16:28:58 PDT

A bottle on my shore.
Opened and arousing air,
scented of brimstone and Asphodel,
it made me high,
light as petals of ember
and she,
of alabaster and onyx
was my stoking breeze
waiting for me to ash.

[ This space for rent ]


Courtesy of ^coshdaddy, ^imperfect and many others:
Literature Forum Poetry Workshop
Literature Forum Prose Workshop

Poetry and Prose Community on deviantART
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[ static one | static two ]



"Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to be always part of unanimity."
-- Christopher Morley

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/8162581/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/8162581/ Tue, 14 Mar 2006 19:07:01 PST

Friends, I'll be gone from here for a spell. Not because I'm irritated with dA as current trends dictate, but because someone very close to me is on their way out of this world and I need to spend time with them before they leave.

Clear the smog Detroit, I'm coming home.

Much love to Helen, Kristen, Sarah, Nadia, Karin and anyone else I've forgotten.
Wish me luck.

...

The Father Map
I could see the old man there,
his eyes like one way streets
like diodes
like damns
taking in currents of traffic
while his lungs release exhaust.

He waited in his rocking chair
focusing on the horizon
for the mailman
for his son
until the moon broke his blues
for one last walk into the night.
-PS/2006

Poetry and Prose Community on deviantART
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"Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to be always part of unanimity."
-- Christopher Morley

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/8010250/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/8010250/ Sun, 26 Feb 2006 15:49:04 PST

OF MY SILENCE, I can say this: I endure a month of Mondays under the fingers of a lame mechanic.

Quiet The Mines, The Mimes: Whores.
It's been a long time since any kind of meaningful journal has been posted here. The reasons are many, most of them far too depressing to go into any kind of detail about. However, I will state that one of the main reasons for my silence is boredom. deviantART, once a web site that occupied many, many hours of my time has become boring to this user. It is, of course, a predictable side effect when frequenting any web site or establishment that fails to change in any substantial way to keep you interested.

Now, that's not a flame or a complaint, and this isn't one of “those” journals.

Eat all the grass you like. I'm still here and so are my opposable thumbs, only I'm in a different playground.

Poster, the Poseur Poster Posts
I haven't posted anything for you to read or view in quite some time. This is mostly due to the fact the dA gave me a distorted view of writing and art. I found myself writing only for dA and nobody else and that, over time, had a negative impact on me in many ways. I can't be certain how it came to be that way, it just did.

I shall begin to post once again. Only now, with lard instead of Crisco.

Kids, don't dilute yourselves. DA isn't a sieve and you aren't pots of noodles, dig?
Rice. Assimilate. Inward.

[ new scrap ]

EOT

Now, I need a soft woman and a hard bottle. Any Ottawa takers?

Poetry and Prose Community on deviantART
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"Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to be always part of unanimity."
-- Christopher Morley

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/7954496/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/7954496/ Mon, 20 Feb 2006 15:47:33 PST

Apologies for the lame, depressing journals.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled program.

Poetry and Prose Community on deviantART
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"Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to be always part of unanimity."
-- Christopher Morley

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/7951169/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/7951169/ Mon, 20 Feb 2006 09:35:11 PST

Yesterday left
floating out the door with everything
that keeps my sanity balanced
the glue of my imagination
holding softly, tiny hearts,
glued to scraps of paper
cluttering a lonely floor
echoing softly
the words she has forgotten
“We love you, Father”
and I search the walls of what is left
swimming though silent memory,
looking for a lighthouse,
like a ghost on Valentine's Day.

I need somebody to help hold me together.
Please. Anybody? My door is open. The phone is silent.

Poetry and Prose Community on deviantART
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"Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to be always part of unanimity."
-- Christopher Morley

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/7942650/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/7942650/ Sun, 19 Feb 2006 11:36:07 PST

My home would be empty if it weren't for this cask of misery that awaits a blessing from the voice of reason.

I need to get drunk tonight. Who's coming over?

You're all invited.

Poetry and Prose Community on deviantART
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"Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to be always part of unanimity."
-- Christopher Morley

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/7862436/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/7862436/ Mon, 13 Feb 2006 13:14:46 PST

Feculant mill, ----- The rumors
grind my bones ----- of my death
into poison flour -- have been greatly
for the giants. ---- exaggerated

End of transmission.
Next incoming transmission follows:

THE QUICK BROWN FOX JUMPS OVER THE LAZY DOG```
TOKYO DO YOU RECIEVE?```
...:::

RCPT VERIFIED.

:GOOD MORNING SUBSCRIBERS:

A quick post from the compound:

VDay: The person submitting the best Valentine to my email inbox within 24 hours will receive a mystery prize via snail mail.

Spectra Yellow: Special thanks this month go to ~Fancydelic and her zine, Spectra Yellow for publishing my poems "Rattling Into Omega" and "Star Spangled Cross" (not published on dA) in this month's issue.

End of transmission.


Poetry and Prose Community on deviantART
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"Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to be always part of unanimity."
-- Christopher Morley

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/7468663/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/7468663/ Sat, 31 Dec 2005 15:44:12 PST

Another year, another pair of shoes.
365 ways to wear holes in your soles.

Have a safe one, kiddies.
Dead drunks don't get to Valhalla in twisted cars.

Poetry and Prose Community on deviantART
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"Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to be always part of unanimity."
-- Christopher Morley

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/7396930/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/7396930/ Fri, 23 Dec 2005 22:02:51 PST

Well, I thought about making some big fancy graphic like all the other kids are doing and then I said, nah.

And so, this season, I'll share a recipe for the carnivore crowd. This one has a good track record for keeping guests satisfied. In fact, it never fails.

Paul's Burgundy Stew

2 pounds of beef boneless bottom or top round, cubed to bite size bits.
2 good sized carrots cut into ¼ inch rounds or shape them like stars if you have the time.
2 stalks of celery, sliced (about 1 cup).
2 medium yellow onions, sliced and diced you crybaby!
1 can (14 ½ Oz.) diced tomatoes, undrained. Fresh tomatoes are even better.
1 can (8Oz.) sliced mushrooms, drained. Again, fresh is good if you have 'em.
¾ Cup dry red wine. No twist-caps!
1 ½ teaspoon of salt. I use Sea Salt but it's not necessary.
1 teaspoon of dried thyme leaves or ground.
1 teaspoon of ground mustard (dry). A teaspoon of Dijon works even better, make sure you blend it in well.
¼ teaspoon of pepper. Fresh ground is always better if you have it.
¼ cup of water.
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour.

Simple steps to success:

1. Mix all ingredients except water, flour and Herb Dumplings in 3 ½ to 6-quart slow cooker. You can use a large cooking pot as well, but you'll need to keep a close eye on the stew.


2. Cover and cook on low heat setting fr 8 to 10 hours (or high heat setting for 4 to 5 hours depending on time constraints) or just cook until beef and vegetables are tender. Mix water and flour; gradually stir into stew.

Serve with herb biscuits if you're feeling industrious. Use a standard biscuit recipe and add ½ teaspoon of thyme and ¼ teaspoon of dried sage.

Don't forget to serve the rest of the wine! Red wine mustn't be chilled.

Three rules: Read, converse and laugh. End your night with full minds and full stomachs.

Cheers! And have a safe one.

Poetry and Prose Community on deviantART
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"Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to be always part of unanimity."
-- Christopher Morley

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/7357568/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/7357568/ Thu, 22 Dec 2005 21:34:01 PST

No, wait, it's here and it makes me wanna adlib: Unkown Writers


[ insert adlib here ]

Poetry and Prose Community on deviantART
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"Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to be always part of unanimity."
-- Christopher Morley

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/7299748/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/7299748/ Tue, 13 Dec 2005 10:01:16 PST

Sustenance
You need food for thought, friends. Food to satisfy your undying need to write, to paint, to draw. Bring to life those thoughts, those dreams, those nightmares. Fear not the man who points his finger at you and says, “You're mad, man!” and unbind yourself from those who stifle the creative process with fashionable opinion.

Play your own game and cease proliferation of systems that create elitist environments as it is only the poor man's solution to a mediocre existence.

Find balance in friends and when among friends, be yourself.

There's your supper, friends. Now it's up to you to bring the silverware.

I'll end this with dessert from Jack Kerouac:
“I would like everybody in the world to tell his full life confession and tell it HIS OWN WAY and then we'd have something to read in our old age, instead of the hesitations and cavilings of 'men of letters' with blear faces who only alter words that the Angel brought them...”

“I am only a jolly storyteller and have nothing to do with politics or schemes and my only plan is the old Chinese Way of the Tao: 'avoid the authorities.' I am a bibulous old jolly drunk and I love everybody.”

Indeed, we should all be so full of life.



It's Litmas Time!
You! Yes, you with the pencil and the strong odour of coffee grounds and paper! Get out there and write for Litmas!

Litmas details can be found in the News Release and/or ^MinorKey's Journal.

OK, I'm done yelling now.

(Nose)Plugs
This Journal's Freakshow brought
to you by the letter: § and the number Ǽ

Poetry and Prose Community on deviantART
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"Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough... ]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/7254907/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/7254907/ Sat, 10 Dec 2005 15:48:44 PST

When I was a child in the 70's, music was always playing. It was as if the music was an oxygen generating entity and absolutely had to be on or else we would die. The air was sweeter then.

I can remember reading the lyrics that were printed on the inner sleeves of albums. There was always meaning or some obscure tidbit of information to be found and everything, had a meaning. From Zappa I learned humour and complex rhythm, from Cat Stevens I learned of sorrow and joy and from The Beatles I learned that a single voice could move generations.

Music, art and literature were the foundations which paved the playground of my childhood.

It's not the anniversary of John Lennon's death that brings this journal, I don't celebrate such things. It's the sudden realization that today's music is no longer as stable as that old foundation and upon it, the swings tilt, the slide doesn't have a good incline and the basket ball court is too pitted to play on.

Where did music go wrong? Was Don McLean prophesising when he wrote the song “American Pie”? (That's right kiddies, Madonna did not write that song).

A lot of what I hear today sounds like candy coated laxative, it tastes sweet but it fails to move me. Explain to me the significance and meaning behind lyrics “written” by Britney Spears, Slipknot, etc. and also explain to me this thing called “Emo”.

Ut canis a corio nunquam absterrebitur uncto?

Is this the future of music? Someone tell Mom: [link]

Gallery (Mostly) Empty
Yes friends, I've removed eighty-five percent of my gallery (even my DD - I hated that poem). I'm starting over. They aren't deleted, only stored thus they retain their slots in your favourites collections. My prints are gone as well since I never make any sales (not that I'm pushing the sales at all – it's my fault).

Edit: OK, after much thought (and being poked with hot, pointy things) I decided to pull a bunch of them out of storage. Bon appétit.

Also, for those of you who like to critique, I have a gift for you in scraps. Watch the scraps. There is always something in scraps.


_{I'll publish those old poems in PDF format for download when I get around to it.}

It's Litmas Time!
You! Yes, you with the pencil and the strong odour of coffee grounds and paper! Get out there and write for Litmas!

Litmas details can be found in the News Release and/or ^MinorKey's Journal.

OK, I'm done yelling now.

(Butt)Plugs
This Journal's Freakshow brought
to you by the letter: & and the number Z

http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/7159610/ Tue, 29 Nov 2005 07:01:53 PST

There's always a beautiful maiden chained to a rock
and I am always without my bolt cutters.
Water, mirror, magnet, Gorgon,
Dragon!

Thank you, $spyed, $lolly, ^imperfect, ^MinorKey for your continued support.

Now, on to other things...

If you didn't notice already, the *ArtistsForCharity page is up and running:

(from the *ArtistsForCharity page)
What is *ArtistsForCharity?
For those who don't know, ArtistsForCharity is an account run by some of the seniors of deviantArt. The goal of ArtistsForCharity is to help charities by doing what we love, by creating art. This will be accomplished by seniors submitting art to be sold as prints with all the profits going to charity. In this sense, this project is unlike any other done so far here. We will not be asking for donations. Instead, we are selling art with the proceeds going to the charity. These prints will be exclusively donated for this group and will not be available anywhere else.

I have donated two of my most popular prints to the project:


All of the proceeds go to UNICEF so if you've ever hesitated putting money into my pocket, stop hesitating and give it to charity or I shall come to your homes and throw toilet paper in your trees.

Comments:
Please don't be discouraged if I do not respond to comments right away, I have many to catch up on and they keep stacking up. I will get to the bottom of the comment bin!

Writing:
I seem to have stumbled upon a different voice. Sarah says I've become cynical says I'm an uneducated twit with the poetic sensibility of a small blue soap dish (kidding, Sarah). Kristen says I'm not. Andrew said:

"[...] Your choice of titles is usually spot-on, your economy with words can be brilliant, and your muse is both very funny and inspired in turns."

And Michael Gessner added:
"The sharpness of diction in your poems on this site is the equivalent of Auden's. The poetry itself, in its multifarious (& simultaneous) references (& nuances,) exceeds Auden.
Why aren't these in a published format?"

Hell if I know. Not enough ego?

Art:
Hello, my name is Art and I am the silent brother. There won't be much visual art coming from this account for some time as there are quite a few environmental issues that prevent me from creating visual art. Writing is simple and portable, my easel is large and cumbersome.

On Senior Status:
I've noticed some say that my senior status here is intimidating. That is quite far from the truth, I am a very pleasant person (most of the time). Don't let a silly thing like a grave accent scare you away.

Plugs:
There are many, many people who I enjoy reading and viewing here on deviantART. These are only a few of them, let them be known now:
http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/7122124/ Wed, 23 Nov 2005 10:23:44 PST

...Lo, I too am come, chanting the chant of battles,
I above all promote brave soldiers.

Banned: !ndifference





(excerpt from "As I Ponder'd In Silence" Walt Whitman)
.


]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/6944119/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/6944119/ Thu, 03 Nov 2005 11:40:07 PST

The sparrow shits
upside down
--ah! my brain & eggs

-- Allen Ginsberg

Better, ~screamandsugar?


]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/6916650/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/6916650/ Mon, 31 Oct 2005 13:48:28 PST

This Halloween, it will rain -
like so many Halloweens in the past
it never fails
and every child that comes to my door
will be the Creature from the Black Lagoon -
in disguise.

Have a safe one everybody.

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/6819530/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/6819530/ Thu, 20 Oct 2005 14:18:18 PDT

What's baking? Catch-up pie.

Things to do:

• Respond to my backlog of 255 comments.
50% Complete

• Make espresso.


• Give thanks to those who have faved and watched in the past 5 months.


• Make more espresso.


• Chat on dAmn and annoy people.


• Sleep.


• Post new material.

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/6737641/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/6737641/ Tue, 11 Oct 2005 08:55:45 PDT

I am not a trend whore. Instead, I twist the trends.
Here are nineteen truths about yours truly and one lie (because I love to keep you guessing).

• Most people think I'm an angry person because I don't wear a smile.


• I have missing teeth thanks to Dentophobia.


• I was raised by a pack of wild, stoned hippies.


• I dropped out of High School to be with my girlfriend who, consequently, went to school during the day.


• I despise snow.


• I am a hermit and dislike the chaos that others bring into my life.


• I have no friends in meatspace.


• I believe that there are three kinds of people the world could do without: Yuppies, record company executives and people who own SUV's for no apparent reason.


• Puddle-people irritate me.


• I have been deemed a pervert. It's a title I cherish.


• I am a quiet person.


• I am a distant relative of Prince Vlad Tepes.


• I rarely turn the lights on at home.


• Many of my heroes are still alive.


• Most people stop talking to me when they find out how old I am.


• I'm 35 years old on paper and 25 in spirit.


• I am a very private person.


• I only require five hours of sleep.


• I have an addictive personality.


• I am a geek.

I tag: *ChiChi-Usera, =cherry65, =diosaperdida and, =TheGlome
Of course, they have no obligation to accept.

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/6687438/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/6687438/ Wed, 05 Oct 2005 14:22:31 PDT

Hey, look at me, I never update my journal.

Updates soonish.

By the way...if you're getting a "thank you" from me and you don't know why, it's because I have a backlog of faves and watches to catch up on.

Touch my goddamn poll!

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/6251306/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/6251306/ Mon, 22 Aug 2005 05:44:11 PDT

Satire is a lesson, parody is a game.

Did I say I was back?
Yeah, I did.

First off, I'd like to thank all of those who wished me well in my time of illness. Your support is much appreciated. This isn't the first time I've gotten pneumonia, but I hope it's the last.

Secondly, I going to do some Spring cleaning (in the Summer) of this gallery. Most of my material will be disappearing from view since it's only sitting there collecting dust anyway. Apologies to those who happen to read or view the older material on my page and thanks to those who gave comments and faves to the art and writing contained therein.

The contest? Yes, I'm ironing out the details, and here is a clue for the curious: Be prepared to be mocked.

DA-related
Well, I certainly wasn't ready for the shock I received when I came back to work here on DA. Many of my fellow comrades have resigned over Jark's dismissal. I wish them all luck on their future endeavours. (NOTE: Please do not ask for any commentary regarding the Jark/Spyed situation, you'll get no answer – thanks)

UA: I have resigned from the Unknown Artists Project due to time constraints. Many thanks to everyone who helped support my role in the project by suggesting deviations and showing their enthusiasm. Sarah, AKA =zebrazebrazebra, is now the acting manager of UA's Poetry and Prose category and I wish her the best of luck with her new position. Give her your love.(or at least some sweaty lust if you have no love to give).

Wow!
I'd also like to take a moment to congratulate all of the people who won prizes on DA's 5th Birthday bash. The number of winners is simply astounding. Congrats!

On the personal front, I am officially unemployed. If anyone in the Ottawa area has any leads on high-tech positions, please drop me a line. I hate job hunting.

Now, I have to get to the 3000 items in my message centre before my monitor explodes from the pressure.

Random

Spinning like a ghost
on the bottom of a top,
I'm haunted by all
the space that I
will live without you.
"Boo, Forever" Richard Brautigan

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/6123014/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/6123014/ Wed, 03 Aug 2005 13:31:09 PDT

...I'm back. Did ya miss me? Was it cold at night?



Prepare for a contest.

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/5967939/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/5967939/ Mon, 18 Jul 2005 12:04:50 PDT

Thank you, everyone for your support during my time of illness. I shall return on August 1st, 2005. Until then, I am caring for an ill family member.

2005 is not a good year.

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/5778856/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/5778856/ Tue, 28 Jun 2005 06:31:56 PDT

Friends and MN@ colleagues,

I've fallen ill and have been in and out of the hostpital with pneumonia. I'm getting better and will return soon.



]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/5613667/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/5613667/ Fri, 10 Jun 2005 21:38:32 PDT

Finally.

It's been some time since I last posted a journal entry that wasn't whining about something or so lost in obscurity that it sounded like a Chinese leper begging for cash.

Now then, let's start with DA related topics...

What is Th@?
In case any of you haven't noticed, I have a little @ next to my name. What is that @ all about? The @ means that I, along with some others, am a member of MN@. MN@? stands for Messaging Network Admin and is part of the deviantART Community Development team under the supervision of $euphoria and the yellow, god-like entity we call $jark. In a nutshell: We're moderators (or OPs if you've used IRC) for the dAmn system (no pun intended).

The Unknown Artist Project:
I have accepted the role of manager for the Poetry and Prose UA team and I would like to remind everyone that I accept suggestions for the project; in fact I LOVE suggestions from the community. Please, feel free to drop me a note if you know of any potential, feature-worthy material.

Don't forget to visit *Thumbshare for all the latest or chat in #ThumbShare.

Personal Blather:
2005 has been a terrible year so far. At present, I am struggling to hold on to my job of four years with a small tech company here in Ottawa. The score sucks: Managers 1, Me 0. It's safe to say that this is a normal company and shit always rolls down hill. The worst part of it is, I don't have an umbrella.

The Book:
Some of you have been asking when my book will be available. Well, I've pushed the date to later in the year. I'm not overly pleased with the content that I had previously intended on including. I will likely publish a chapbook before I commit to anything of a larger scale.

Posting:
I want to make a short comment on my recent lack of posting and it's quite simple: I've become very picky. Now, I'd also like to let you know that I've set aside my ego and posted some drafts to my scraps. One poetry and one prose (gasp). Please feel free to post an insightful critique or interpretation. Keep in mind that you don't have to be overly technical to offer an opinion. General comments are OK as well.



The Butler Did It:
And he really did. It wasn't the maid in the parlor with a candlestick (derive what you will from that).

Apologies:
Yes, I know. I haven't been the biggest commenter lately and I wanted to apologize to some of you who are used to me coming around and leaving the odd rambling comment on your pages and devs. I've become quite busy and find it difficult to keep up with comments and devs but rest assured, I don't mark them as read - I see your work, I just need to do a little time management.

Let me know how I can make it up to you.

Random
The night bore up your name, Ophelia and you were splashing in the storm drains of my mind. Welcome home, away from home, with full rest swimming upon your shroud. Your catfish friend, I still define. Please send a message in a bottle so that I might pluck you from the depths of my mind and watch you rise with the intent of a rose. (C)2005 P.A.S.

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/5593061/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/5593061/ Wed, 08 Jun 2005 20:44:17 PDT

Yes, I know I'm supposed to post some sort of hot, roast beef sandwich kind of journal but to be honest, I'm all out of bread right now and the Chef is on sick leave.

Watch for the blur.

I'm in the back seat of a car crash photograph and the film won't develop fast enough to show me who the driver is. I'll meet you in the trunk.

Bring a bottle of brevity and I'll show you the thoughts that sleep behind my cup.




PS - You had me worried. I'm glad you're back.

Oh and I'm subscribed until Jan 18, 2038?

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/5467394/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/5467394/ Thu, 26 May 2005 12:29:37 PDT

This is just a quickie post. The bigger journal will be posted soon with all of the dirty little secrets you really want to hear.


Selected by @radiophonic and =krazykel :

• "Path To My Heart" by ~lupyne


• "Splendor of You" by ~chutup1


• "Business as Usual" by ~koshii


• "Indian School" by ~KerouacAttack


• "Coffin Houses" by =idiotekniQues


• "Product of his amusement" by ~harmartia


• "... Flutter and Fall ..." by ~heartshapedcliche


• "You Couldn't Hear Me Screaming" by *Bronwen


• "All a Mommy Could Ever Want" by ~un-makeup


• "Multiverse Through Lover's Eye" by ~toughc00kie

Please welcome =zebrazebrazebra and =selladohr to the UA P & P team. Congrats, ladies!

Visit *Thumbshare for the photography and digital/traditional art selections for this issue.

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/5330915/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/5330915/ Wed, 11 May 2005 15:23:54 PDT

I'd like to say that I'm back and ready to post lots of wonderful (and some not-so-wonderful) things for you but I can't. It seems that while I was hiding under my rock, a cold virus by the name of Bogart found me. I told Bogart that this was not a game of hide and seek I was playing and that I wanted to be left alone but Bogart was a small child virus and wouldn't listen.

Tag, I'm it.

Now, I'm sure most of you know how stubborn a young cold virus like Bogart can be so it goes without saying that I've fought him for a few days with an assortment of pre-packaged miracles. Sadly, there are no saints in the drug industry. Bogart just got more irate and in a fit of anger, spread to my lungs. "I've grown up," he said. "Look! I'm an infection!"

For the next month I'll be fighting a bronchial infection which is what happens when a cold gets inside of me. It's been this way since walking pneumonia came for a visit a couple of years ago. That pneumonia didn't have a name like Bogart, it chose to be anonymous so that even doctors didn't know it was there and so for three months I called it Rocky as it beat my lungs like a side of beef.

My current infection has stopped talking to me. Bogart has gone silent and is trying to overcome me, but he sends his love from deep inside of me in that place where Rocky used to live: The Hollywood Boulevard inside of my lungs.


Paul

]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/5321371/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/5321371/ Tue, 10 May 2005 14:41:08 PDT



]]> `radiophonic http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/5020558/ http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/5020558/ Thu, 07 Apr 2005 21:18:11 PDT


Selected by *stupid-hippy, =radiophonic and ~krazykel

• Conspiracy Theory by *Scarlatti


• Sylvie's Release by ~Cathaoir


• paroxetine by ~worsen


• Dealing with the Beast by ~psye


• lonely blossom by ~sidh-artist


• Grasp by ~zariaphoenix


• Shall Remain Nameless by ~Michallica


• The Wingless Angel's Song by ~Makilla


• Poetry, Sept 03 - Jan 05, I by = somedrunkblackspoon


• Brief Encounter by :devtheposionedpen:


• national veterans cemetary by ~ amodestmouse


• Venus Rose> by ~KerouacAttack


• The Ancients by ~Valdonis


• The Static Breaks by =Fallen-Angel-Fox

Past features:
[ UA1 | UA2 | UA3 | UA4 | UA5 | UA6 ]

About the Unknown Artists Project










More places for stalkers to find me:

• MySpace


• PoemHunter

My Alter-Ego

The Fonz Digs It

C L U B S
http://radiophonic.deviantart.com/journal/4970404/ Mon, 04 Apr 2005 09:23:18 PDT




My selections for April

• "Poetry, Sept 03 - Jan 05, II" by * somedrunkblackspoon


• "Four Years" by *meic2


• "Smokes" by *TheBunk


• "Fifteen -- The Waters of..." by ~ jkastran


• "3:00 in thecity" by ~xtape


• "maggie faked springtime" by * carissima82


• "Lech" by *suckmysobriquet


• "Azaleas" by ~fallingsilver


• "your story" by *shotgunmessiah


• "tabitha and the nightingale" by * zebrazebrazebra


• "Rusting Bridges Of Suburbia" by ~ honestbrutality


• "Rufus and Erythros and ..." by ~groovus

Please be sure to check out the main announcement for selections by ^ ndifference, *stupid-hippy and ~krazykel as well as the traditional art and photography picks for April.

My Alter-Ego

C L U B S
]]> `radiophonic