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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
_consume_'s LiveJournal:
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| Wednesday, November 11th, 2009 | | 4:13 pm |
In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved, and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields. Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields. | | Tuesday, October 13th, 2009 | | 3:39 am |
Rock and Roll music report feat. DETHKLOK
I so rarely do these anymore. Not because I'm not going to shows; not because I'm not enjoying them. The same reason I don't do my own music anymore: simple, unvarnished laziness. Why would I want to write about concerts you didn't go to, or you want read about them for that matter, when both of us could be collecting hubcaps or playing drunk chess in the nude, or whatever? Well, I'll tell you why. DETHKLOK. Now, in my time abroad, I missed out on many important cultural happenings in the West. Kanye. Hannah Montana. Various other omens of the death of our civilization [for reference, I am listening to Rose Clouds of Holocaust by Death In June right now, it may be colouring my perceptions]. Most of this bilge is eminently disposable and will soon enough adorn the pyre the modern-day Visigoths will light our night skies with, but for one noble exception. Metalocalypse. I watched the entire extant series on my roomie's computer in the weeks following my return. Like many of these recent "cartoons for grown-ups", it experiences moments of pure auteur-ish self indulgence that would profit from some editorial intervention, but in general it is funny stuff. I can't for the life of me imagine how a studio executive green-lighted this project, considering that the large majority of those watching will not even register half of the humour, but the pop-listening public's loss is the head-swinging longhair's very considerable gain. Mikael Åkerfeldt of Opeth summed it up best in one of his hilarious, concise crowd interactions in the interludes between songs: "We have to take the piss out of heavy metal, because it's ridiculous...but I love it." As someone who, despite being a rivet for life, has not bought a single genre record in probably 2 years [and then only to fill holes in my collection of bands I already like, this new pissant tripe the kids get excited about has no effect on me], this struck a chord with me in more ways than one. See, after a decade of consciously eschewing organic sounds and listening to the most robotic, sterile, inhuman racket I could find, I have come full circle and find myself something of a teenage banger all over again. I guess the extreme emotional circumstances I have faced in the last year have given me a taste for something a bit more human and sentimental. Metal for many years represented underground music at its most brutish and unsophisticated, rage and frustration without eloquence, crude graffiti next to a De Sade novel. But that is a vast generalization. It is simply a different means of expressing the same basic emotions that my beloved bang-clanky googly robot arm music channels, minus most of the intellectual pretension. I still like the music better than most of it's fans, that is true, but you can't blame the fruit for the flies. There is much that is admirable about the culture that we rivets could learn from...a sense of brotherhood and shared experience, a vibrant contempt for moderation and compromise, and a purity of vision we never seemed to have. Metal bands aren't generally out to change the world or make grand artistic statements, they are simply out to be faster, heavier, and more brutal than anything that has been recorded before, in a constantly escalating shred war that obliterates any desire to appeal to anyone other than those who already get it. Industrial could benefit from that unity of purpose, but instead we prefer to muddy the waters with a constant Canada-esque struggle for self-definition as it all becomes more poppy and indistinguishable from simple dance music every year. Bah, enough theory. Rock show. After getting jacked up by security for my very threatening rubber safety spike wristband and jacket with four [4] safety pins, in I go. I could do more damage with my fingernail, but I digress. I didn't protest too vociferously, since I start working there in two days. Promptly lose friends in the press and watch some intolerable screamy metalcore band completely alienate the public. They made the appropriate rock faces and leapt about to general indifference. Fortunately for them a Canadian audience is usually too placid to throw beer or other substances at the stage. I go now to drown my dismay in the tepid pond water that is American lager in a plastic cup behind a chain-link fence in the back, which at least gave me pleasant reminiscences of the old Ministry "In Case You Didn't Feel Like Showing Up" VHS that I used to have. Encounter the feminine entourage, am soon surrounded by the most beautiful ladies in the venue, which is admittedly not difficult at a metal show [which is no commentary on the ladies, because they are the most beautiful people pretty much anywhere they go]. Enjoy a moment of mirth as some chortling Australian yobbos chide me for "cutting them out of the circle" by standing between them and girls. Sorry, wasn't aware you were in this circle, gents, I was occupied talking to my friends. Idiots. Mastodon. Previously, my only contact with this band was this: Which, as stupendous as it is, did little to prepare me for what came next. Mastodon basically likes old Sabbath and marijuana an awful lot, and plays with a huge backdrop of a swirling starfield behind them as you go on a grand journey staring at the lava lamp from your couch. They do these massive, long stoner-sludge dirges with an old-school, slow-grind heaviness and minimal chugga-chugga. I just realized how gibberish that sentence would have been just fifty years ago. They must have played an hour and half, with like five encores, and it was quite good. Long and full songs busy with details, with just the right mix of changes and breakdowns and proggish bits without losing the main groove that the song is built on. You don't really headbang to this, just sorta rock back and forth and enjoy the psychedelic mental vista that scrolls before your eyes. This of course didn't dissuade a sort of slow-motion geriatric's mosh pit with stop-motion animation elbows thrown and globules of spit hanging suspended in midair for long moments, all of which I punctiliously avoided...kids these days don't know how to mosh anyway. More on that later. One thing that metal bands have on the electronic people is they know how to put on a show. Even if they just stand there, they project more charisma and menace than the most agitated knob-twiddler. Mastodon has this sort of thing going where even they are amazed by the heaviness of the molten guitar lava they are pouring forth, so much so that they are bowled back by it and perpetually teetering on their heels, ready to be swept off the stage by a tidal wave of occult wizards fighting Satan for control of the souls of man and a bottle of Jack. Plus their mere appearance is a show in itself: left to right you have this uncanny menagerie of rock and roll characters. There is crazy hair angry Jerry Garcia guitar player guy, Metal Nickelback guy bass player, gay cop-'stache and mullet rythm guitar...no description of drummer available because no one takes any notice of them. Oh wait, he came out last to throw sticks at the audience and throw up the horns, I remember now...fitted t-shirt and big ear plugs sXe guy with a sensible haircut. They had panache. Then DETHKLOK. Now, I'm fully aware of the absurd Spinal Tap element inherent in going to see a made-up band from a TV show, and I fully expected it to be just a big farce...something that would be funny for a half dozen songs or so and then peter out in a cloud of smug self-referencing rubbish. Well, I was in for a shock. You cannot fully parody something unless you also love it. For a made-up band they were tight and heavy and crazy as hell. However ridiculous the subject matter and whole image may be, it is clear they are serious about the music. Blazing fast and raucous and, well, for lack of a better word...brutal. Hilarious and topical video accompaniment with R-rated versions of the sequences from the show each song was associated with. Topless mermaids locked in a gory underwater hand to hand struggle with axes and saws and claw hammers, Toki Wartooth's flesh melting from his skull after being hit in the mouth with a flaming arrow, Eagle riding barbarians and dragons fighting for no reason, good clean fun for the whole family. From memory, they played Deththeme, the Amazon jungle song, Hatredcopter, Murmaider, Thunderhorse, the Duncan Hills Coffee jingle, a couple others...I can only surmise that so much shredding compressed in to such a short time span is very taxing, because they were probably on for only 45 minutes or so. Really, my only complaint of the show. As most know, I don't like doing anything in concert with others, but I unironically threw up the double horns after pretty much every track. Loudness - check. Anger - check. Beer-slicked concrete floor - check. Seizure-inducing strobes - check. Mouthfuls of greasy banger hair - check. METAL - check. It was fun, and I needed a cathartic release after all the fear and doubt of previous weeks. They had these funny little video interludes, the best of which was the talking skull guy who gives orientation for visitors and new Klokateers at Mordhaus giving a "moshing 101" public service announcement...basically an acknowledgment by the band that many of the people there know nothing about metal and need to be instructed that just wiping someone out in the pit and failing to help them up is, quote, "a douchebag move" that should earn you a karmic beatdown. The longhairs laughed uproariously and the ball-cap wearing tourists all stared at their sneaker tops and fidgeted.  Avoiding the stagefront melee like an old footballer with a gammy knee, this was the best photo I managed to grab. Brendan Small's pointing torso seems pleased to be floating atop a storm-tossed sea of Satanism. The rock show was awesome. The crowd roared like a lion. Rock over London, rock on Chicago. Wheaties, breakfast of champions. Current Music: Death In June - The Accidental Protege | | Tuesday, October 6th, 2009 | | 2:48 am |
ちょっと悲しいなぁ
日本の思い出は頭の中に踊っている。。。恋しいよ、あそこの友達。 元気だといいね。 | | 1:47 am |
You get excited about sports. I get excited about music. You talk about the weather. I talk about the past, and the future. You drive a pickup truck. I walk. You are threatening. I look threatening. You need attention. I merely enjoy it. You speak and type some pidgin babble of hip-hop slang and netspeak. I speak English. You wear popped collars and cocked baseball hats. I wear garrison caps and Sam Brownes. You strive to justify yourself to others. I strive to justify myself to myself. You spend most of your social time talking about hot chicks with other men. I spend most of my social time surrounded by hot chicks. You injure yourself welding. I injure myself dodging automatic weapons fire, or dancing. You contract. I evolve. You probably wouldn't die for your friends. I would. You are convinced you are happy with life because you cannot see far beyond the confines you have set for yourself. I am occasionally unhappy, but I can see the stars. You fear ostracism. I fear error. You laugh at me, but with a secret envy of my life, my freedom. I laugh at you with my whole heart. | | Saturday, September 26th, 2009 | | 4:00 pm |
Poll #1462908
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 12 Hardest movie line/Rock lyric ever? | | Monday, September 14th, 2009 | | 6:20 pm |
Job Hunting
"So Jamor, what would you say are some of your strengths? What assets do you bring to the table?" "Well, I can identify WW2 military hardware, uniforms, and organizations with laser-like accuracy, quote Monty Python all day long, play RPGs with flair and aplomb, and do an incredible flaily stompy kick dance. I really feel I would be an asset to, uhh...what's your company called again?" That's basically my dilemma. Current Mood:  irate | | Wednesday, September 2nd, 2009 | | 2:58 pm |
| | Tuesday, September 1st, 2009 | | 6:27 pm |
| | Monday, August 31st, 2009 | | 1:53 pm |
Crisis: averted
Well, it seems that by switching to a plus account, I get 1GB of photo storage. Presently I have 250 megs uploaded, so all is right with the world. So what, I ignore some ads and lose most of my userpics. Never fear, cardboard halftrack and Nazi snowball fight will live on in cyberspace forever... Current Mood:  relieved | | Saturday, August 29th, 2009 | | 1:21 pm |
| | Friday, August 21st, 2009 | | 4:51 pm |
Well, it seems my paid account is expiring in ten days. I'm unsure of what to do. On one hand, so much of my life, plus upwards of 1700 images are archived here. On the other, my motivation to post, particularly long, drawn-out monster post like I used to crank out weekly, seems to have disappeared. If the account expires all my text will remain but the images will vanish in to the ether. Right now it appears my options are to either pay up, migrate the images to some other server which will be a herculean task, or just let them go. Understandably not too keen on the last option. | | Friday, August 7th, 2009 | | 2:33 pm |
Poll #1441102
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 24 complex metaphysical conundrum: Current Mood: MOLON LABE | | Thursday, August 6th, 2009 | | 12:07 am |
さよなら日本
It has been a long and winding road... ...and finally I find myself here. Not at the end, oh no. A new beginning, fraught with uncertainty and peril and alive with choices and possibility. While I cannot say all of it was good, what in life is? Fact is, the suck-to-rule ratio here was about 20-80, and that is way better than I can say of my previous life. I really feel blessed to have avoided a tourist guide book stereotypical view of Japan, without doubt the strangest place on Earth. Being one of few foreigners to enter the world of Japanese industrial, and the ONLY one ever in the WW2 reenactment community, has been a huge honour and joy. Has this place changed me? Definitely. For the better? I would say so, although that awaits the verdict of the people who knew me before. Well, I don't want to belabour this to the point of maudlin soppy bull. Sayonara, Nihon. O-genki de. 上に書いたのは、単語の不足でなかなか通訳できないけど、基本的に表現してみる。ゴス ・インダストリアルシーンの皆さん、世界大戦ヒストリカル・ゲーマーの皆さん、あなた の秘密な世界に入らせてくれてありがとう。いつまでも感謝だ。おかげさまで一般的な旅 行者の見方より本当の日本を見えた。すばらしい経験だった。 では、話しすぎたくない。さよなら、日本。お元気で。 Current Mood:  sad but hopeful | | Wednesday, August 5th, 2009 | | 11:05 pm |
Gazing in to a cracked mirror
Jamie - Thoughtful, sweet, loyal unto death, shy, nerdy, polite, fair-minded, self-deprecating, private, a little bit of a wuss. My dad's doing. Jamor - Loud, brash, creative, darkly sexual, opinionated, confrontational, boorish, melodramatic, experiences eerie isolated moments of clarity and insight, indifferent to censure and social convention. My mom. These two contradictory characters have been locked in a bitter Jekyll-and-Hyde struggle for mastery over my soul for as long as I have been a conscious adult. Some situations bringing out the former, some the latter. Oftentime the transition occurs unbidden, in the span of a heartbeat. Most interesting people have faceted personalities, but with me the divide is really stark and difficult to rationalize. Maybe I'm just imposing an arbitrary, synthetic framework on something too subtle to be neatly classified by human minds. Whichever way one chooses to look at it, the two do NOT exist in benign hippy commune Yin-Yang harmony. This explains the feeling that has ever dogged me, of being at war with myself. Leaving my life here behind has enhanced my recent sensation of standing at a crossroads. One day the two will face off for the final battle, the Ragnarok at the end of ages that will mark the end of I as I know him. They will battle all samurai style, silent, beyond negotiation or demurr, while a lonely shakuhachi whistles through a bamboo forest, green like the sea at dusk. Both will strike, and both will fall stricken. United, finally, in oblivion. From their mutual death spasm, what or who will emerge, I wonder? Jamor wrote this, you can tell from the overwrought, faux-epic style. He wants to root for himself in the coming struggle, of course, but even he acknowledges there are many things yet to achieve in this life that he cannot do alone. The value of balance, of peace with onesself and his place in the world, is not lost even on him. Current Music: philosophical musing decreases when girls are sitting on your lap:( | | Friday, July 31st, 2009 | | 10:46 am |
| | Wednesday, July 29th, 2009 | | 4:56 pm |
| | 2:25 pm |
Found at the Disc Union metal store in Ochanomizu:
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) laparolaccia might get a kick out of this:  Translation: "industrial/gothic feature! [Erica says "Have a look, eh?"] On display now on the 2nd floor!" Alas, all they had was Ayria and some keyboard rock and terrorbanana bands, but still, it was a surprise. Current Music: glorious air conditioner hum | | Friday, July 24th, 2009 | | 12:47 pm |
| | Thursday, July 23rd, 2009 | | 1:34 pm |
Tin Omen
Here is a fun one, using only one musical artist, answer the below questions with the names of songs from any of their albums. Your Artist: Skinny Puppy Are you male or female: Manwhole Describe yourself: Sleeping Beast How do you feel about yourself: God's Gift (Maggot) Describe where you currently live: One Time One Place The first thing you think of when you wake up: Nature's Revenge If you could go anywhere, where would you go: Riverz End Your favorite form of transportation: Deep Down Trauma Hounds Your best friend is: Social Deception Your favorite color is: Harsh Stone White What's the weather like: Rain If your life were a TV show, what would it be called: Who's Laughing Now? What is life to you: Far Too Frail What is the best advice you have to give: VX Gas Attack If you could change your name, what would it be: Morpheus Laughing Your favorite food is: Shore Lined Poison How I would like to die: Chainsaw My soul's present condition: Spasmolytic The faults I can bear: Anger How would you describe your love life: Love In Vein What are you going to post this as: Tin Omen Current Music: DiJ - The Calling | | Saturday, July 18th, 2009 | | 11:58 am |
Last class ever: done. Seven schools. A thousand kids. Upwards of two thousand lessons. Don't rightly know how to feel about it. At once, tremendous relief, and real sadness. No matter where I go from here, this place will always be a part of me. |
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