Sunday, May 26, 2013
Hottest Dance Ever
Put your trust and faith in me
why are you not happy
I paused a while and then replied
as I wiped away tears flooding my eyes.
My kids have degrees, they should feel at ease,
be able to walk into jobs
I watch the news and sob
men battling machines bought to their knees.
Stones against bullets and tanks
these men don't stand a chance
what do you do when you're sure
god has given up on you.
When you see no plan of action
God is a great distraction
he'll help you on your way
all you need is faith.
In unity we will be free
pray to me I'll set you free
believe in me I'll be your strength
put your trust and faith in me.
I am the way said the Lord
I'll lead you to salvations door.
The Soul
Floating there in front of the nostril!
Matters not whether a girl or a son
Lucky intervention or preordained will
Millennia of accidents lead to the formulation of the molecule
Able to re-create such a complex being
The beating begins long before the initial breath inhaled
Yet the essence of life is not ringing
Self serving actions brought with forethought
Developed only after years responding to reflex
Charges across the synaptic spaces so taut
That decisions are unrecognized and complex
From the already entwined DNA strands
Atoms tied together with packets of energy
To a being of lungs, feet, heart and hands
Ultimately defined by a birthing synergy
What do we call this intangible gasp?
Why do we need one for life?
And when no more over our lips it will pass
To float with the others at the end of our strife
Questioning if there is a soul?
Then surely this it must be
A whisper filling a molecular hole
Exhaled to rejoin the ethereal sea!
Democracy
Today, this year
Nor ever
Through compromise and fear.
I have as much right
As the other fellow has
To stand
On my two feet
And own the land.
I tire so of hearing people say,
Let things take their course.
Tomorrow is another day.
I do not need my freedom when I'm dead.
I cannot live on tomorrow's bread.
Freedom
Is a strong seed
Planted
In a great need.
I live here, too.
I want freedom
Just as you.
Poetry
Like singing birds
Poetry is the thing
Makes all the birds sing
Writing the feelings
Rhyming the things
Words for all
Words big and small
Poems about love and hatred
Poems that are sacred
Poems about depression and joy
Poems about a girl and a boy
Getting a message out
Know what it's all about
Poetry is the way
You can have anything to say
by Ilsebeth Brand
Bound No’th Blues
Goin’ down the road.
Down the road, Lawd,
Way,way down the road.
Got to find somebody
To help me carry this load.
Road’s in front o’ me,
Nothin’ to do but walk.
Road’s in front of me,
Walk…an’ walk…an’ walk.
I’d like to meet a good friend
To come along an’ talk.
Hates to be lonely,
Lawd, I hates to be sad.
Says I hates to be lonely,
Hates to be lonely an’ sad,
But ever friend you finds seems
Like they try to do you bad.
Road, road, road, O!
Road, road…road…road, road!
Road, road, road, O!
On the no’thern road.
These Mississippi towns ain’t
Fit fer a hoppin’ toad.
Nobody Needs Know
I’m in a crowd screaming,
Nobody hears me.
I’m in a crowd crying,
Nobody sights me.
I’m falling apart,
A pain in my heart,
Managing no more than to play a part.
The part of the happy girl,
Not a care in the world.
All smiles and laughs,
Neither of which in private I have.
I hide behind a wall,
Nobody needs know, nobody at all.
by Megan Haste
Her...
I wonder if she'd mind if i'd,
make her my own,
and never let her go,
hug her tight,
treat her right,
act all polite,
take her on a date,
make sure i'm never late,
kiss her on her lips,
talk about our kids,
Make her feel like princess,
living in a castle,
hope that is not too much hassle,
But i am so blessed,
hope i can be the best,
hold you tight,
have your BR3A$t,
on my chest,
pass the test,
NOW YOUR MINE!
sorry for word spamming: (
love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love
Cleaning Out the Lyre
and guide the ice-white, jumping chips to the face
of your lyre, then to the cheekbone band,
a silhouette. Then in the f-hole lace—
clean rice. The dust's loose. The voice of rain
moves the trees that bow to the silver-green
lake where a horse and cart's loaded with chains
and past the shop where Jean Baptiste's artists
plane the willow and sand the maple good
for ribs. Some unbraid white horsehair with mist
unwrapping bread and cheese over a sketch.
Forsaking My Love
I wish to tear you away from me
This tumor that clings to my chest
The thing that makes me ache
That haunts my dreams
And tears at my desires
You have brought me only pain
My untamed heart
That beast that gnaws at my soul
That pitifully whines
Bringing my mind into unwanted pain
Yet how can I blame you
How can I chastise you when I listen intently to your pleas
Why should I punish you for what my eyes feed upon
How can I blame my eyes for falling upon her
She who brings light to the eternal darkness of my soul
She whose eyes bring me to subjection
Whose smile leaves me in awe
How can I blame you when my ears are met with her laughter
How they submerge into her song
How they quiver at her voice
Why should I punish you for inclining my soul
Tempting it with the one sense that has been forsaken by her
How could I look over the thought of the brushing of lips
The touching of hands
The binding of the soul, mind, and body
O you wretched heart
What am I to do with this constant companion
How could I tear you away
When she is the cause of my agony
Or rather
It is the lack of her which brings me sorrow
It is the need for her that leaves my heart in pain
Yet she is not mine
She was never mine
She will never be mine
O my poor heart
How can I make you see reason
When all you do is show me the truth
Michael Silver
Bitter Blow of Love
You lay me cross the mortal plains,
Bedewed, bedimmed amongst a show
Of tearful clouds: eternal rains
To weep at my enduring foe
Of harsh reality – searing pains of
Destiny: dependable propensity
To fool myself repeatedly
That I could ever triumph over love!
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Monday, May 13, 2013
Sunday, May 12, 2013
ScarCon!
A post from me that’s not about history?
I know, I know. But I’m looking at things in the long view- eventually ScarCon will join my own ScarWars event as a nodal point in the history of Scarification, so…. this post is just coming a bit early!
Ron Garza is one of my oldest friends, and along with Steve Haworth is someone I consider to be directly responsible for the way that Western scarification has evolved. He’s influenced the best in the world and in 2006 at Scarwars LA I was honored to present him with the ‘Keith Alexander Award for the Advancement of the Art and Culture of Scarification’. To date he’s the only artist who’s been given this award. He recently hosted ScarCon; an international gathering of Scarification artists hosted in London England and has graciously contributed photos exclusively to ModBlog and Scarwars (so check there for pictures not included in this update!)
The artists for the inaugural London ScarCon were: Christiane, Ryan Ouellette, Bruno BMA, Iestyn Flye, Ron Garza and Brenno Alberti .
I’m going to be rolling more photos out soon, here and over at Scarwars, so check back!
As always… discuss!
Shawn has spent the majority of his ife in the modification world.
In addition to writing poorly for Modblog, he also edits the often neglected Scarwars site, the more frequently updated Occult Vibrations tattoo blog as well as his personal diary at Sacred Debris. He lives in Philadelphia with his faithful Italian Greyhound Bailey, his roommate Megh and a steadily growing Pushead collection.
ScarCon!
A post from me that’s not about history?
I know, I know. But I’m looking at things in the long view- eventually ScarCon will join my own ScarWars event as a nodal point in the history of Scarification, so…. this post is just coming a bit early!
Ron Garza is one of my oldest friends, and along with Steve Haworth is someone I consider to be directly responsible for the way that Western scarification has evolved. He’s influenced the best in the world and in 2006 at Scarwars LA I was honored to present him with the ‘Keith Alexander Award for the Advancement of the Art and Culture of Scarification’. To date he’s the only artist who’s been given this award. He recently hosted ScarCon; an international gathering of Scarification artists hosted in London England and has graciously contributed photos exclusively to ModBlog and Scarwars (so check there for pictures not included in this update!)
The artists for the inaugural London ScarCon were: Christiane Lofblad, Ryan Ouellette, Bruno BMA, Iestyn Flye, Ron Garza and Brenno Alberti .
I’m going to be rolling more photos out soon, here and over at Scarwars, so check back!
As always… discuss!
Shawn has spent the majority of his ife in the modification world.
In addition to writing poorly for Modblog, he also edits the often neglected Scarwars site, the more frequently updated Occult Vibrations tattoo blog as well as his personal diary at Sacred Debris. He lives in Philadelphia with his faithful Italian Greyhound Bailey, his roommate Megh and a steadily growing Pushead collection.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
The Joker and his philosophy
Above all, what captures the whole movie is the joker’s character. No one else can override his character. I went through his iconic dialogues and then thought, what joker really reflected by his dialogues?
Here are some choosy dialogues along with its impacts.:
1. Joker: If you’re good at something, never do it for free.
Amazingly delivered dialogue at right time. Wasn’t joker right? When you are good at something,you deserve to be paid its value. When you do it for free,you are taken for granted, ultimately you realise that oh, I should have had ask for something in return. This is just in terms of business but in life, it is not applicable entirely.
Death. An eternal truth. Person shows the true face. Therefore it is said that dying person never lies. The true character is revealed.
This is an event which we have never witnessed in the real life. We will never witness also. We don’t know what will happen when the strongest power meets to the most rigid object. We don’t know which will win. But, joker has given the answer, perhaps, neither of them win.
The most practical and the shortest definition of the madness. Yes, it is like a gravity. It is like a passion. You simply get dragged towards it.
The best example given by joker. He himself doesn’t know what he is doing. He is living in the very present.
The Dark Knight – Joker quotes
The Joker: [to Batman] Come on, I want you to do it, I want you to do it. Come on, hit me. *Hit me!*
[nobody responds; The Joker walks around the room pointing with his shotgun at everyone]
The Joker: You know where Harvey is? You know who he is?
[grabs a man's face]
The Joker: You know where I can find Harvey? I need to talk to him about something. Just something, a little.
[turns the man's face away]
The Joker: No…
Gentleman at Party: We’re not intimidated by thugs!
The Joker: [as he smacks his lips] You know, you remind me of my father.
[pulls out his switchblade and brings it to the Gentleman's mouth]
The Joker: I hated my father!
Rachel Dawes: [off screen] Okay, stop!
[turns to face Rachel, tosses the Gentleman to his thugs and approaches Rachel, adjusting his hair with the knife]
The Joker: Well, hello, beautiful. You must be Harvey’s squeeze, hmm? And you *are* beautiful.
[hovers around the incredibly nervous Rachel]
The Joker: You look nervous. Is it the scars? You want to know how I got ‘em?
[grabs Rachel's head and positions the knife by her mouth]
The Joker: Come here. Hey! Look at me. So I had a wife, beautiful, like you, who tells me I worry too much. Who tells me I ought to smile more. Who gambles and gets in deep with the sharks… look at me! One day, they carve her face. And we have no money for surgeries. She can’t take it. I just want to see her smile again, hmm? I just want her to know that I don’t care about the scars. So… I stick a razor in my mouth and do this…
[mimics slicing his mouth open with his tongue]
The Joker: …to myself. And you know what? She can’t stand the sight of me! She leaves. Now I see the funny side. Now I’m always smiling!
[Rachel knees the Joker in the groin; he meerly laughs it off]
The Joker: A little fight in you. I like that.
Batman: Then you’re going to love me.
Batman: No! But I know how you got these!
The Joker: I like this job – I love it!
Batman: You’ll be in a padded cell forever.
The Joker: Maybe we can share one. They’ll be doubling up, the rate this city’s inhabitants are losing their minds.
The Joker: I took Gotham’s white knight, and brought him down to our level. It wasn’t hard. Y’see, madness, as you know, is like gravity. All it takes is a little…push.
[laughs]
The Joker: Wanna know how I got these scars?
Detective Stephens: That’s nice.
The Joker: How many of your friends have I killed?
Detective Stephens: I’m a twenty year man. I can tell the difference between punks who need a little lesson in manners… and the freaks like you who would just enjoy it.
[pause]
Detective Stephens: And you’ve killed six of my friends.
The Joker: [faking interest, mouths "six"]
[gets behind the wheel of a semi truck]
The Joker: It’s simple, we, uh, kill the Batman.
[Mobsters laugh]
Salvatore Maroni: If you’re so smart, why didn’t you kill him already?
The Joker: If you’re good at something, never do it for free.
The Joker: Ooohhh. You want to play. Come on!
[pause]
The Joker: The Batman.
The Joker: How about a magic trick?
[pulls out a pencil and sticks it upright into the table]
The Joker: I’m gonna make this pencil… disappear.
[Gambol's thug walks over to kill The Joker, who pushes his face into the pencil and kills him]
The Joker: Ta-daa! It’s… gone!
The Joker: No, I’m not. No…I’m *not.*
The Joker: [laughs] Kill you? I don’t want to kill you! What would I do without you? Go back to ripping off mob dealers? No, no, you… you complete me.
The Joker: Now, let’s not *blow* things out of proportion here…You know what? You let me know when you start taking things a bit more seriously.
[takes out Joker card and sets it on the table]
The Joker: Here’s my *card*.
The Joker: Yeah.
[breaks pool cue over knee]
The Joker: tryouts.
[throws broken pool cue at the thugs]
The Joker: Make it fast.
The Joker: You have all these rules and you think they’ll save you.
Lt. James Gordon: [Batman slams the Joker against a wall] He’s in control.
Batman: I have one rule.
The Joker: Then that’s the rule you’ll have to break to know the truth.
Batman: Which is?
The Joker: The only sensible way to live in this world is without rules. And tonight you’re gonna break your one rule.
Batman: I’m considering it.
The Joker: No, there’s only minutes left, so you’re gonna have to play my little game if you want to save one of them.
Brian: No.
The Joker: No? Then why do you dress like him?
Brian: He’s a symbol… that we don’t have to be afraid of scum like you.
The Joker: Yeah, you do, Brian. You *really* do!
The Chechen: They won’t work for a freak…
The Joker: [mocking his accent] A freak…
[pulls out his switchblade and tosses it to some goons who grabs the Chechen]
The Joker: Why don’t we cut you up into little pieces and feed you to your pooches? Hmm? And then we’ll see how loyal a hungry dog really is. It’s not about money… it’s about… sending a message. Everything burns.
The Joker: Of course not.
Lt. James Gordon: What have you done with him?
The Joker: Me? I was right here.
[holds up his arms in handcuffs]
The Joker: Who did you leave him with? Your people? That’s assuming of course that they are still your people, and not Maroni’s. Does it depress you, commissioner? To know just how alone you really are? Does it make you feel responsible for Harvey Dent’s current predicament?
Lt. James Gordon: Where is he?
The Joker: What’s the time?
Lt. James Gordon: What difference does that make?
The Joker: Well, depending on the time, he may in one spot or several.
Lt. James Gordon: If we’re gonna play games…
[takes off Joker's handcuffs]
Lt. James Gordon: I’m gonna need a cup of coffee.
The Joker: Ah, the good cop, bad cop routine?
Lt. James Gordon: Not exactly.
The Joker: No, no. I kill the bus driver.
Grumpy: Bus driver? What bus driver?
[a school bus drives through the wall and kills Grumpy]
The Joker: It’s the schemers that put you where you are. You were a schemer, you had plans, and uh, look where that got you. I just did what I do best. I took your plan and I turned it on itself. Look what I did, to this city with a few drums of gas and a couple of bullets. Hm? You know what, you know what I noticed? Nobody panics when things go according to plan. Even if the plan is horrifying. If tomorrow I tell the press that like a gang banger, will get shot, or a truckload of soldiers will be blown up, nobody panics, because it’s all, part of the plan. But when I say that one, little old mayor will die, well then everyone loses their minds!
The Joker: [Joker hands Two-Face a gun and points it at himself] Introduce a little anarchy. Upset the established order, and everything becomes chaos. I’m an agent of chaos. Oh and you know the thing about chaos, it’s fair.
[with the gun in Two-Face's hand, Two-Face pauses and takes out his coin]
Two-Face: [showing the unscarred side] You live.
The Joker: Mm-hm.
Two-Face: [flipping, showing the scarred side] You die.
The Joker: Mmm, Now we’re talking.
[with the gun in Two-Face's hand, the joker has the gun to his own forehead; Two-Face pauses and takes out his coin]
Two-Face: [showing the unscarred side] You live.
The Joker: Mm-hm.
Two-Face: [showing the scarred side] You die.
The Joker: Hm… Now we’re talkin!