The political content runs heavy this morning, don't it, chill'uns (larfs).
Let's take a little tok and see what magic happens, huh. How about we try that.
Before closing out the above, I'll rock hard for Bernie Sanders but I will not compromise, I will not roll. Plastic surrogates are not acceptable. Clinton is a plastic hell bitch and I will never support her.
There's one teeny tiny problem as I'm developing a profound allergy to smoke. Of course I see the comedy in that but it's not that cool with reefer which is often causing extreme coughing. The only way to mitigate that is to keep the pipe as immaculate as possible by preventing accumulation of resins inside it (i.e. put a new screen in it about once a week).
New School reefer is so heavy with goodness it can clog up a pipe with resin in a day. Don't smoke this stuff. It's incredibly strong but it's no damn good for you because the pure smoke comes from the leaf (or bud) and not from any leftovers. The leaves will probably do you no harm but that stuff easily can.
You may reasonably conclude there was some substantial coughing just now. It's not a cause and effect situation so we shall try that one more time.
You've got to be willing to disbelieve, man. People see me getting stoned all the time and figure, well, it must not do very much because it sure doesn't seem to be debilitating him. But debilitation is useless, it's the suspension of disbelief which permits the magic. You don't just see it, you believe it.
My willingness to believe is high so I get ripped off all the time and it's cost me tens of thousands of dollars. That seriously sucks but I still would not give up that willingness. Perhaps that makes me a child or a fool but consider for a moment the view of the world they see.
Yah, that's what reefer does.
When I play, it's a different kind of thing as it doesn't let me pretend I am Jimi Hendrix because I'm not anything when I play. Nothing exists but the note and the notes which lie before or ahead of it.
There's always the silent mantra, be cool, keep breathing, be cool, keep breathing, and this isn't nervousness but rhythm. It's also important because it's easy to stop breathing while you play because it's so damn exciting to do it. The irony is you mustn't let yourself get too excited or you will lose it.
My whole purpose is to start into a lead line and follow it as far as it can go. Many may say I go too far with it but that doesn't mean anything as it's only a relative judgment. The distance it can reasonably go is how long it stays consistent and coherent. Stops and starts are crap as the flow is continuous or it's worthless, for me.
My music has been called 'musical masturbation' and that's kind of lofty. Maybe it's more honest, I think, to simply say you don't like it (larfs). I don't know what that term even means, really. We know what masturbation means and we know what music means but we roll them together and get ?? I don't know, man, but I'm quite sure I don't want to know.
This is not an escape world but it's rather The World with all of the pretensions, rubbish, and needless distractions removed. Whatever remains is always love, light, and music. It has to be because what else are we and what else have we ever been.
In everything else there is always a pull back to some arbitrary construct. A painting may be the most extraordinary abstraction and I've seen some fantastic work from modern abstractionists but it's still confined to a physical canvas or other similar medium. A circus has a similar divesting of all other distractions to find what remains but maybe you loathe the caging of animals so that alternate reality poofs as well.
Music is an escape insofar as it gets away from any physical confinement ... for everyone but the musician. The jammer has that axe and there's no getting around the physicality of that but, with a good one, you won't mind. The fingerboard on my Godin xtSA is ebony, man. That's no physical burden, that's sex (larfs).
Ebony is a metaphor for many beautiful things. I hope the wood is not so rare because it's like ivory to a guitarist. The touch is probably as sensual and perfect as a guitar's fingerboard could ever be. No amount of technology can change that because it isn't involved.
(Ed: synthetic ebony?)
Now that's fucking demonic, man (larfs).
That's so unbelievably wrong it's maybe like making a plastic Stradivarius. Man, you would burn for that for sure. The Great God Mescalito is so seriously not going to dig that.
(Ed: but it's a sound facsimile which can be mass-produced and sold to the general populace. We will make millions!)
We will make millions of thin tiny slices of you suitable only for a deli shop if you continue with this mercenary plan, Shylock!
The rarity of music is part of what makes it so beautiful. No matter what you do, you can't keep it, no-one can. Even a diamond you can put in your pocket.
In some ways it boils out as trite but there's truth in all of it and maybe there's some defensiveness that it wasn't wasting time, that the reefer really didn't detract anything. That goes out to impossible calculus and it's a rare stoner who ever wanted to screw with calculus.
(Ed: it's calculus every time you hit a four-wheel drift at the end of the main street!)
Yah, but that's better calculus, isn't it. In fact, that's some grand calculus (larfs).
People probably don't see the art in really high speed unless they have done it. Movies try to film it and sometimes they go slo-mo during really elegant moves. I have enjoyed watching shows like that but it really doesn't come close.
My record in a car, a Chrysler Sebring in which I got five speeding tickets in eight months, was somewhere, probably not a whole lot, over one thirty mph / two ten kph and that makes me fast but it doesn't make me an ultimate go-faster by any means. I don't know this for positive but I'm fairly sure both of my brothers have maxed out every vehicle they ever drove and they have had some ultra-fast rides. Doc boosts them up to 700+ horsepower just for the hell of it and then calls them trash cars. Unknown why but here's a tip: don't race him.
The thing with that Sebring is first I was running out of road on my speed run but second was the front end started to get a wee bit light. At that stage the vehicle is getting ready to dance so you damn sure better have your best game ready for it ... or just slow the fuck down, it's only a car beating down an Interstate in Rhode Island in the middle of the night.
Note: I wasn't drunk. I frequently worked horrendous hours due to systems work for mainframes. The only time you get to screw with the machine, even to fix it, is when big corporate brother doesn't want it for anything else (i.e. hardly ever but early Sunday darkness was a favorite with them).
(Ed: I thought you were a manager?)
I was but I was one of those managers who actually work. Staggering, isn't it (larfs).
This aspect of the job was something actually enjoyable. I had my little plans for, say, eight hours of systems work and this was all estimated out to who is doing what and when. This sounds tyrannical but it's an agreed deal with the boys so they don't fall all over each other. Making the deals was just the work part and reeling them out in the systems time was the beauty part. If it works and usually it did, it would be like a big human cuckoo clock ... and that's a high compliment because all the parts have to mesh perfectly for that bird to cuckoo.
These boys weren't by any stretch servants but rather were hotshot techies and some of the most determinedly solo people you may ever meet. They aren't serving you but rather you are serving them so they can do what they wanted to do anyway. Yep, that's the deal you make.
It was said all the time but it was still cool (only when said by the people who are doing it): I love it when a plan comes together.
If you see the musical composition in this, you're on it.
At times it gets operatic. There was a partner who was the hardware designer and any major change he made needed coordination with my boys to make the operating system aware and with all the excruciating detail of that.
We would work in-tandem sometimes with our teams going to town, million-dollar hardware moving all over the machine room, and that was definitely operatic as my team makes its moves in-sync with the hardware team and the parallel to music seems clear to me. If the way-up managers saw this, they would be terrified and that was really my biggest strength with computers as no matter how big they were I wasn't afraid of them. Some of you know how that goes and think, well, of course not ... but you also know how many don't.
That hardware guy and I guy wouldn't mind at all to let loose a big smile and say, I love it when a plan comes together. It's like what you get when you mix a cuckoo clock, a circus, and a spaceship. Yah, that would about do it.
Note: I did not get stoned for this sort of thing. I would tell you if I did as what difference does it make now (larfs). I wasn't stoned for at least eight years up there. People still thought I was and I got that all the time. That would piss me off too. Hey, man. I'm not fookin' stoned, alright? (larfs)
Note: even with a six-figure salary, I was never tested for drugs in my life, at least not knowingly.
Yah, so that's what reefer does. Um, good morning! (larfs)
Wanna do some more politics, do you?? (larfs)
Let's take a little tok and see what magic happens, huh. How about we try that.
Before closing out the above, I'll rock hard for Bernie Sanders but I will not compromise, I will not roll. Plastic surrogates are not acceptable. Clinton is a plastic hell bitch and I will never support her.
There's one teeny tiny problem as I'm developing a profound allergy to smoke. Of course I see the comedy in that but it's not that cool with reefer which is often causing extreme coughing. The only way to mitigate that is to keep the pipe as immaculate as possible by preventing accumulation of resins inside it (i.e. put a new screen in it about once a week).
New School reefer is so heavy with goodness it can clog up a pipe with resin in a day. Don't smoke this stuff. It's incredibly strong but it's no damn good for you because the pure smoke comes from the leaf (or bud) and not from any leftovers. The leaves will probably do you no harm but that stuff easily can.
You may reasonably conclude there was some substantial coughing just now. It's not a cause and effect situation so we shall try that one more time.
You've got to be willing to disbelieve, man. People see me getting stoned all the time and figure, well, it must not do very much because it sure doesn't seem to be debilitating him. But debilitation is useless, it's the suspension of disbelief which permits the magic. You don't just see it, you believe it.
My willingness to believe is high so I get ripped off all the time and it's cost me tens of thousands of dollars. That seriously sucks but I still would not give up that willingness. Perhaps that makes me a child or a fool but consider for a moment the view of the world they see.
Yah, that's what reefer does.
When I play, it's a different kind of thing as it doesn't let me pretend I am Jimi Hendrix because I'm not anything when I play. Nothing exists but the note and the notes which lie before or ahead of it.
There's always the silent mantra, be cool, keep breathing, be cool, keep breathing, and this isn't nervousness but rhythm. It's also important because it's easy to stop breathing while you play because it's so damn exciting to do it. The irony is you mustn't let yourself get too excited or you will lose it.
My whole purpose is to start into a lead line and follow it as far as it can go. Many may say I go too far with it but that doesn't mean anything as it's only a relative judgment. The distance it can reasonably go is how long it stays consistent and coherent. Stops and starts are crap as the flow is continuous or it's worthless, for me.
My music has been called 'musical masturbation' and that's kind of lofty. Maybe it's more honest, I think, to simply say you don't like it (larfs). I don't know what that term even means, really. We know what masturbation means and we know what music means but we roll them together and get ?? I don't know, man, but I'm quite sure I don't want to know.
This is not an escape world but it's rather The World with all of the pretensions, rubbish, and needless distractions removed. Whatever remains is always love, light, and music. It has to be because what else are we and what else have we ever been.
In everything else there is always a pull back to some arbitrary construct. A painting may be the most extraordinary abstraction and I've seen some fantastic work from modern abstractionists but it's still confined to a physical canvas or other similar medium. A circus has a similar divesting of all other distractions to find what remains but maybe you loathe the caging of animals so that alternate reality poofs as well.
Music is an escape insofar as it gets away from any physical confinement ... for everyone but the musician. The jammer has that axe and there's no getting around the physicality of that but, with a good one, you won't mind. The fingerboard on my Godin xtSA is ebony, man. That's no physical burden, that's sex (larfs).
Ebony is a metaphor for many beautiful things. I hope the wood is not so rare because it's like ivory to a guitarist. The touch is probably as sensual and perfect as a guitar's fingerboard could ever be. No amount of technology can change that because it isn't involved.
(Ed: synthetic ebony?)
Now that's fucking demonic, man (larfs).
That's so unbelievably wrong it's maybe like making a plastic Stradivarius. Man, you would burn for that for sure. The Great God Mescalito is so seriously not going to dig that.
(Ed: but it's a sound facsimile which can be mass-produced and sold to the general populace. We will make millions!)
We will make millions of thin tiny slices of you suitable only for a deli shop if you continue with this mercenary plan, Shylock!
The rarity of music is part of what makes it so beautiful. No matter what you do, you can't keep it, no-one can. Even a diamond you can put in your pocket.
In some ways it boils out as trite but there's truth in all of it and maybe there's some defensiveness that it wasn't wasting time, that the reefer really didn't detract anything. That goes out to impossible calculus and it's a rare stoner who ever wanted to screw with calculus.
(Ed: it's calculus every time you hit a four-wheel drift at the end of the main street!)
Yah, but that's better calculus, isn't it. In fact, that's some grand calculus (larfs).
People probably don't see the art in really high speed unless they have done it. Movies try to film it and sometimes they go slo-mo during really elegant moves. I have enjoyed watching shows like that but it really doesn't come close.
My record in a car, a Chrysler Sebring in which I got five speeding tickets in eight months, was somewhere, probably not a whole lot, over one thirty mph / two ten kph and that makes me fast but it doesn't make me an ultimate go-faster by any means. I don't know this for positive but I'm fairly sure both of my brothers have maxed out every vehicle they ever drove and they have had some ultra-fast rides. Doc boosts them up to 700+ horsepower just for the hell of it and then calls them trash cars. Unknown why but here's a tip: don't race him.
The thing with that Sebring is first I was running out of road on my speed run but second was the front end started to get a wee bit light. At that stage the vehicle is getting ready to dance so you damn sure better have your best game ready for it ... or just slow the fuck down, it's only a car beating down an Interstate in Rhode Island in the middle of the night.
Note: I wasn't drunk. I frequently worked horrendous hours due to systems work for mainframes. The only time you get to screw with the machine, even to fix it, is when big corporate brother doesn't want it for anything else (i.e. hardly ever but early Sunday darkness was a favorite with them).
(Ed: I thought you were a manager?)
I was but I was one of those managers who actually work. Staggering, isn't it (larfs).
This aspect of the job was something actually enjoyable. I had my little plans for, say, eight hours of systems work and this was all estimated out to who is doing what and when. This sounds tyrannical but it's an agreed deal with the boys so they don't fall all over each other. Making the deals was just the work part and reeling them out in the systems time was the beauty part. If it works and usually it did, it would be like a big human cuckoo clock ... and that's a high compliment because all the parts have to mesh perfectly for that bird to cuckoo.
These boys weren't by any stretch servants but rather were hotshot techies and some of the most determinedly solo people you may ever meet. They aren't serving you but rather you are serving them so they can do what they wanted to do anyway. Yep, that's the deal you make.
It was said all the time but it was still cool (only when said by the people who are doing it): I love it when a plan comes together.
If you see the musical composition in this, you're on it.
At times it gets operatic. There was a partner who was the hardware designer and any major change he made needed coordination with my boys to make the operating system aware and with all the excruciating detail of that.
We would work in-tandem sometimes with our teams going to town, million-dollar hardware moving all over the machine room, and that was definitely operatic as my team makes its moves in-sync with the hardware team and the parallel to music seems clear to me. If the way-up managers saw this, they would be terrified and that was really my biggest strength with computers as no matter how big they were I wasn't afraid of them. Some of you know how that goes and think, well, of course not ... but you also know how many don't.
That hardware guy and I guy wouldn't mind at all to let loose a big smile and say, I love it when a plan comes together. It's like what you get when you mix a cuckoo clock, a circus, and a spaceship. Yah, that would about do it.
Note: I did not get stoned for this sort of thing. I would tell you if I did as what difference does it make now (larfs). I wasn't stoned for at least eight years up there. People still thought I was and I got that all the time. That would piss me off too. Hey, man. I'm not fookin' stoned, alright? (larfs)
Note: even with a six-figure salary, I was never tested for drugs in my life, at least not knowingly.
Yah, so that's what reefer does. Um, good morning! (larfs)
Wanna do some more politics, do you?? (larfs)
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