Letter to GNC.

"I just wanted to say that I think it's downright chilling you do not pay part-time employees "time and a half" for working on Independence Day. The Fourth of July, 1776 really means something to our country. For a company that grew out of the heartland of our Nation (during the Great Depression mind you) -it really shows a lack of respect to your employees, your country and our veterans (like my father) who sacrificed everything in the line of service.

On the homepage you have a link to inform people of how our freedoms are being abridged by the FDA and other regulatory agencies. I agree with you. But, really - why do you deserve more freedoms? You don't value your part-time employees or your country enough to compensate them for working through the most important Holiday we celebrate as Americans. The Fourth of July, Independence Day.

Not to mention, it's 2009. Our country is fighting two wars. The job market and economy (especially in California) is in serious trouble. Your part-time employees are struggling to survive.

God Bless.
-Luke"

I urge the rest of you to stand up for what is right and what is yours.

Public Airwaves

WAR ON THE INTERNET

"In short, America's economic prosperity in the 21st century will depend on cybersecurity." -President Barack Obama, May 29th, 2009.

In 2001 I was beginning high-school. I had just moved cities due to a divorce. Shortly after, I gained a computer in my bedroom for the first time. It didn't take me long to learn about a program called "morpheus" from my peers at school. I had heard a few things about something called "Napster" - a tool (as it would be explained to me) that made it possible to STEAL music via the Internet. And now, I had something comparable. This "morpheus" worked as follows:

1.) Type in an artist name and hit "search."

2.) Highlight results, click "download."

3.) Play Counter-Strike, jerk off, go to bed, wake up and discover all the FREE FUCKING MUSIC that was now waiting for you on your hard drive.

Since then... nothing has been the same. I began what any adolescent male with a passion for music did: download EVERYTHING. I mean, why not? How on God's blood-stained earth was I ever supposed to pay money for music? I was fourteen years old.

That was the first time I ever knowingly took a criminal risk. Once I was past that hurdle - I was peddling burned CDs per order for lunch money between classes. You wanted a mix of Sublime, Nelly and Blink 182, I could get it for you the next day. All it would cost you is five bucks.

How did I get away with it? Well, I had a CD burner and an internet connection. That's all you needed.

Without "free music" I never would have discovered hip-hop. I never would have purchased my first Tool album. I never would have, later down the line, become a Dj. Why? The cost of music would NEVER have allowed me to discover the sounds I loved most. The cost of music never would have allowed me to discover that part of myself - an indispensable passion and drive that propels my every step today.

My only other option was to acquire my musical taste from another "pathway" of "communication." The problem was, this other "pathway," was (as I would later learn) bought, owned, regulated, divvied out, subscribed to, abridged, chopped up with advertisements and censored. Can you guess what other "publicly owned" means of "communication" I am talking about?

Television.

But... wait... Isn't television just a never ending loop of mediocre bullshit put out by FIVE companies - filling spaces between advertisements for the sole purpose of generating endless revenue?

Oh yeah. It is. So why the fuck would I care to flip on MTV and watch the same ten songs on rotation all day? That is, besides the fact that 90% of the programming has little or nothing to do with music? Either way, it didn't concern me. The people watching television programming were paying me five bucks a pop to burn a few tracks the boob tube couldn't provide.

It had become clear. The internet wasn't just for sending letters to grandma, looking up pictures of F/A-18 Hornets and sneaking into weird chatrooms when Mom wasn't looking. It was a living, breathing and ever changing place. People interacted from all over the world on THEIR terms, mostly. It was a place filled with confusing terminology and manual configurations. It was limited only by imagination and technical intelligence.

it was more than free. it was a place of Freedom.

"For all these reasons, it's now clear this cyber threat is one of the most serious economic and national security challenges we face as a nation." -Obama addressing "cyber terrorism" via foreign governments, loyalists and rogues.

Apparently, we're in danger. What if hackers take down our power grids? What if they hack the economy and blow it up?! WHAT IF?!

Excuse me for being childish. But I fear what President Obama's "new office" will have the power of regulating. Yeah - we need to defend our networks from attacks. But the following statement sent chills up my spine.

"From now on, our digital infrastructure -- the networks and computers we depend on every day -- will be treated as they should be: as a strategic national asset."

What the fuck? Now the internet is not only going to be treated like a strategic corporate asset but a national one too? I don't mean to sound like a paranoid idiot - but, really - how long until the power from this new office is heinously abused so badly that the internet is transformed into a disgusting, over-homogenized piece of corporate property like the television?

The Bakkheia Republic will be covering the progress of this new "cyber security" office closely and blowing whistles regarding the defense of net neutrality - as these two concepts have yet to reach a definitive and foreseeable meeting point.

The City

As I drive toward the city, I wonder, "Is this where he wanted me to go?"
I drive into the city, and wonder, "Isn't this where he said it would be?"

A mile in the sky they pass me by:
Thousands of people everywhere; faceless, no colors.
Thousands upon thousands of faces who have no idea, no answers.
Fear stirs me as I cry out, "Is this where he left it for me to find?"

Perfect, he slipped it slipped into the great plains wasteland just weeks before he died.
The wars that he caused didn't kill people, they killed the will.
Thousands of faceless people stare and ask if I'm doing okay.
I feel so out of place, or out of mind or whatever, I don't even know anymore.

But I'll keep searching, I'll keep looking for that place.
He said it would be there and god I hope it is.

Tools of the Republic

The modern instrument of journalism has arrived in my possession. The world need only wait prepared.

The wheels of investigation shall thunder down and through the modern veins of society - flat and black, entirely tarmac. Now we have everything we need. and more.

Temple of her love

Oh the day is falling, my love.
And now I'm calling you.
I light the candles, my love.
You know where and how I want you.

Now I'm calling, down
into the temple of my love.
You're so red as the blood flows through your veins
Just another kiss now and this will be over, for now.

The way she moves without me gets me so envious.
That I can't have her? Although she is mine?
To that place again I go - that sin is calling me.
That sin is calling for you too.

Two bright lights, shine now.
Two bright lights, shine down.

Now I'm covered in your love in hell's temple with my God.
You feed so warmly, moving as my blood flows
through you - into me,
back into my love I'll call you.

So please don't fear me, God damn you! Just hear me push deep into you tonight.
So please don't fear me. Just love me as my love falls deep, deep into you

As your, hips consume me please mate me.
Red is all I see as you call me down into the temple of your love
I'm consumed into your sin.

You love seems just but all too real.
Just your, deathly kiss and I'm all over.

TCG

It was a long week of work, being back on days, but a busy one nonetheless. I saved the free world. Life's looking good right now with a new musical vein opened up and a new project that I'm working to develop. Time to cheer to life; hit up a pitcher at the bar.

GLLF

Again, I may move a wonderful and grandiose concept collaboration between the three of us into the realm of Got Lazy and Lost Focus; dead projects.

All Hail Lucia. Sigh.

Mermaid

Only ten, was it the loss of the Mermaid that drowned your heart?
Cloistered up in adolescence to pull you under, they say that a family loses one life as it gains a new life.
It seems like when the afflicted try to turn around, clean up and spin down, it's the last time that makes it the last time.
If you remember the last thing that I said to you, then sorry, I didn't mean those last words. I love you, brother.

Picture for Michnowski.

Cucumber Water

Not even time will make it right, as you're dropped cold, shivering or maybe seizuring at the hospital.
If I'd been there, what would I have seen?
Vivid solace something like infancy within a catatonic vessel battling immortality?
And you'd be shouting curses of remorse, but maybe
Dying ain't that bad. It's just another candy holiday.

Living in your dying dream; it's a tragedy.
Living in your dying dream; can't you see me? Can't you see me?
Just hold on; one more minute, one more night.
One more dying dream.

Faster, you can hear your heart beating, so fast that it's a tragedy.
Faster you drive, hoping that you'll tell one loving phrase,
To pull them out of despair of a loss so great - it's a tragedy.
Look at me. Look at me, can you open my eyes?
As all the colors mix so vivid a blend to black and grey.
Did you know that these were going to be the colors of

Living in your dying dream? It's a tragedy.
Faster, you can hear your heart beating, for save one hour;
I've got questions that I can't ask anybody else.

The Ocean takes you under, tosses you around under swift current.
God damn you, I only came to say goodbye, and see those colors...

Drowning in your dying dream; I'm your tragedy.
Drowning in your dying dream; dying here.
Living your dying dream, here I am.
Take me, thank you.

Don't be so vanilla

It's the torment of man to toil over projects and grand schemes for years and years, and despite great intentions and what would be, without a doubt, incredible results, these projects would almost never reach fruition. Perhaps what separates great men from their dime-a-dozen brethren is the determination to power ahead through distractions and marriage to carry through with their dreams; finish writing music, speak the lyrics and press it to CD; sketch the layout and model the 3d worlds of imitation; amass capacitors en masse to capture lightning and regulate the flow into a usable force...

What may make the difference is discipline: documenting ideas as they come and using journals to coincide with progress, setting incremental deadlines and setting distinct landmarks for progress.

I heard that if you want to be a writer, then write. If you want to singerist, then sing. If you want to record an album, then fucking put your head to it and get some shit done. Shit.

As an aside: Wyoming's a pretty impressive place; the land there is enormous, with so much room. I'm glad that the Western part of the USA, save for California, is, in a way, desolate.