Lizard-Pumpkin-Fish-Man & also "Ahappylypse"

Here's some gratuitous pictures of my cute new pet rat, Blake le Rat. She's growing everyday. Her interests include sunflower seeds, carrots, sleeping during the day, exploring & cuddling. Her dislikes include cats, Nirvana, player-haters, cats, & being picked up by the tail.

Two recent dreams deserve mention, get out your dream interpreting manuals! First, I dreamt I met a being called Lizard-Pumpkin-Fish-Man. He told me some would consider his form to be a punishment for the extra powers he stole. Others would consider his form to be a REWARD for the powers he stole. But he warned me, those are narrow-minded gray-scale readings of his situation, his Lizard-Pumpkin-Fish-Man form is the RESULT of the powers he stole. Then he explained that some would consider his form to be unattractive, and therefore a drawback for sleeping with hot women. But with his powers, he can take the most attractive female humans and TURN THEM INTO Lizard-Pumpkin-Fish-Women to be his concubines.

Last night's dream was about an enormous party in New York City thrown by Evangelical Christians, who had gathered there en mass to celebrate a positive apocalypse they had scheduled, which they called "Ahappylypse." They tried to throw it for millions of people to be converted & saved (& Jesus would do the rest). But no one came, so Ahappylypse was a total bust, & there was ridiculous amounts of food leftover. (Sort of a catering-inspired dream, really.) Stephen Colbert was there, & the Christians were mad at him for not bringing his followers, & he was like, I don't bring them everywhere I go, & now I'm going to make fun of you on television.

Describing your dreams is a tricky artform, I hope I've kept them entertaining.

Biographical: & Tarot Investigating

WWW.ITWASLOST.ORG is a literary & arts blog, with unique fashion editorials, political commentary, movie reviews & prophecy (both about the weather & the coming doom.) However, sometimes it drifts into merely the biographical, like so many weblogs in the blogosphere, a public diary of the mundane & fabulous gossip in our sad lives. Today, we venture there. What did I do today? My housemate Jenny Ruth told me of a refrigerator magnet she saw in a gift store that reads "Sometimes I call in sick for work as if I had a job." Well, today, I took a day off, & all sorts of zany adventures ensued:

-I faked my way into a fancy restaurant with an uptight Maître d'.
-I went to a baseball game.
-I jumped onto a parade float & got the whole town dancing along to "Shake it shake it shake it baby now."
-Taught my friends to be bold. In Cameron's words: "I am not going to sit on my ass as the events that affect me unfold to determine the course of my life. I'm going to take a stand. I'm going to defend it. Right or wrong, I'm going to defend it."

I've also vowed to finish what I have begun. Text message novels, folk hymnals, hip-hop albums, careers in aviation, & reading Thomas Pynchon's long book Against the Day. Saturday Night, Jenny Ruth threw herself a birthday party, which I was banned from, until I was asked to crash it after 11. The girls spread every art supply in the house across our dining room table & set in to make a beautiful deck of Tarot cards. My theosophic Lords, they're stunning, & I hope to get some scanned & displayed on this website when I can. Perhaps spearhead a new Department of Tarot. The Ace of Pentacles was made with broccoli from the crudité, I'm afraid that one will have to be redone before the deck is laminated. Our friend Dr Nelson, who has just finished writing a Symbological novel (think the Da Vinci Code & the works of Tom Martin), crashed the girls party with me at 11 & reminds us that there are no coincidences in Symbology; so I should hardly be surprised that the next day, when I turned to page 605 in Pynchon's Against the Day, there were references to both Tarot Cards & vegan haggis (the themes of my last two parties) IN THE SAME SENTENCE. I'll quote two short excerpts for the context:

One morning Lew [Basnight] walked into the breakfast parlor at Chunxton Crescent to find Police Inspector Vance Aychrome, angelically revealed in early sunbeams thru the stained-glass dome overhead, relentlessly despoiling a Full English Breakfast modified for the Pythagorean dietary here, including imitation sausages, kippers & bloaters, omelettes, fried potatoes, fried tomatoes, porridge, buns, baps, scones, & loaves in various fomats.

[...]

Assuming he was not here to deliver another gentle suggestion from Scotland Yard to back off of the Gentleman Bomber case, Lew took from an inner pocket a Tarot deck thinned to the twenty-two Major Arcana & dealt them one by one onto the table, between the remains of a vegetarian haggis & a platterful of pea fritters, until Aychrome began to nod frantically & waveabout a finger dripping with what Lew hoped was only treacle. "Ggbbmmhhgghhkkhh!"

-Thomas Pynchon, Against the Day (2006), pg. 605-606

Besides Mr Basnight using Tarot as an aid in his private investigating, which really isn't common enough in any symbological novel, I must say that Pythagorean Full English Breakfast sounds delicious beyond words.

www.itwaslost.org New Years Resolutions

I have been thinking hard about how to make 2009 a super special year. It has often been noted that slight changes in behavior can have major long-reaching consequences. There's no better time than during Berkeley, California's cold dark winters to attempt to improve ourselves. If other itwaslost.org contributers wish to edit this blog-post & add more resolutions, I invite you to make it an open discussion.

-Stop going to see movies starring Philip Seymour Hoffman. I don't know why I kept making that mistake in 2008.
-Throw a mint julep party. I have a humongous bottle of Maker's Mark hidden in my apartment, which I bought a long time ago to throw a fabulous mint julep party. Why haven't I done this yet?
-Homeless people make me uncomfortable. I think I'm going to stay the course on this one.
-Pay more attention to ladies' butts. You ladies don't get enough credit for your butts. Occasionally, I hope to notify a lady if she has something special.
-Drink more beverages out of tall glasses. A tall glass of water. A tall glass of juice.
-Sing more hymnody in small groups.
-Date more white girls.
-There are several cocktails I wish to invent. Specifically, my idea for the Long Thailand Iced Tea, which would involve some combination of sweetened condensed milk, iced tea, & all the booze in Long Island.
-Jesus Christ walked on American Soil.
-Write a Text Message Novel. This has already started, more on that anon, but I would like to see this project thru.
-Female Professional Midget Wrestlers.
-616 Blog Posts. You probably saw this coming. That's like two a day. Are we up to it? The mathematical gods demand it.
-A new format for this website. I'd like it to be more magazine style, like the Huffington Post, with different sections, like Fashion & Architecture. We are looking at the horizon of greatness.

Biographical Resolutions

I've been trying to be better at knowing where my phone is, having the ringer on, answering it when it rings - three things which are sometimes difficult to me. I tried to cut down on beer & coffee these past few months before I go traveling, but ended up drinking more in total, just less regularly. Isn't that often how resolutions go? Who cares anyway, with this moderation of these earthly crutches, it's not like I'm trying to moderate a crack habit. I was just trying to clear my head of the apathy & lethargy which has kept me hitherto from becoming a famous billionaire artist, but I doubt it's the caffeine or alcohol, neither of which I intake at the levels of the Ancient Sumarians or Elizabethans. Did I mention that the remainder bookstore I've been working at sells a kids sticker/coloring book called God Created the Dinosaurs of the World, which has stickers of Adam & Eve feeding dinosaurs, & (my favorite) a viking ship with a prehistoric dino-fish swimming beside it. Another sticker has a quaint group of semi-naked humans planting crops, & one with a hoe is trying to scare away a foraging dinosaur. "Shoo, you rascally dinosaur!"

This could be the dilemma many people in my age or position face in America today - an immense & devastating drop in creativity & energy. Now, I'm not going to play fickle with lady inspiration - I agree with John Adams that if you work hard at anything, inspiration comes when it needs to. The issue is the motivation - I believe writer's block is more of a chemical imbalance than a mystical ennui. But why, for example, do I get so bored when I'm writing music? The last few weeks, I was sketching out a piece for piano, bass & percussion, & it was the physical process of putting notes on a staff that I just couldn't focus on. There was nothing great nor mediocre about the quality of music I was creating, but the fairly meditative & tedious process of scribing it, which I used to fly thru, enjoy, or hardly notice, now, after about fifteen minutes, I find myself surfing the internet or pacing the room. Several obvious problems: a) no commission or deadline, b) no community of artists to discuss with or try to impress, c) no specific stylistic argument I'm trying to make, to necessitate an example piece, d) no long stretches of time where I'm by myself, not working, where I can really get into some creative process. But even in combination, I should be able to transcend above all of these problems & write for writing's sake, build up a portfolio or repertoire for an audition or for whatever future needs, with the youthful motivation I used to have - (I'm only fucking twenty-five!) - unhinderable.

There is one huge reason I have squandered my hours at this boring job for so long (five months) - I am never asked to do anything. They pay me next to nothing to do next to nothing - wait hold on...

Bookstore Conversation #1,493

Costumer: Excuse me, do you have any fabric paints?
Your Hero: No, there's no more art supplies - only books here now. The art store went out of business.
Costumer: Wouldn't you know. Is there another art store around here?
Your Hero: Yeah, four blocks down, at University & Sixth, called Blick.
Costumer: Okay, thank you.

Where was I? O yes - being payed just to sit here started out as a fantastic boon. I read a ton. But the last month, I haven't been able to focus on anything, frustration of frustrations. So that's it, time to move on. When I knew I was truly bored, six weeks ago, I bought a plane ticket to Alabama & Atlanta, the first time I've been on a airplane since college, the first time I've ever been to Alabama - I've been to forty-nine states of our huge union, this will be my fiftieth. I'm freewheeling it for the first week in Alabama, I intend on attending two annual sacred harp sings in churches in small towns in Alabama - the second Saturday of every May at the Oak Grove Primitive Baptist Church in Sylacuaga, then the second Sunday of every May at the Old Flatwoods Primitive Baptist Church near Nauvoo. I'll probably be staying in Tuscaloosa, so I've been e-mailing & calling Sacred Harp singers looking for rides to & back from these singings. Yesterday, I spent forty-five minutes on the phone with a ninety year old woman who won't be attending this year. Here's an e-mail from the pastor at Sylacuaga:

From:	"Bufrey D___" <______@bellsouth.net>
To:	"James Welsch" <_____@itwaslost.org>
Subject:	Re: Singing in May
Date:	Mon, 2 Apr 2007 21:41:50 -0500

Hello Brother James Welsch,

Thank you for your e-mail. Since you will be staying in Tuscaloosa for a week with a friend around May 12th, I especially want you to come to our singing. When you arrive in Tuscaloosa, please contact the following:

T___ & L___ Smith at 205-___-____ and

H___ & M___ E___ Jones at 205-___-____

Both of these couples are very good singers and hope to come to our singing in Sylacauga, Alabama at Oak Grove Primitive Baptist Church on Saturday, May 12, 2007. I called them both and they want you to call them when you arrive. I look forward to seeing you. May God richly bless.

Then, I'll be watching my friends put on a puppetry festival in Atlanta. When I come back I will only be working part time while I look for more inspiring & fiscally remunerative employment. I'll try & report about my travels a bit on this blog, so stay tuned! I'm bringing Joyce's Ulysses to try & finish before Bloomsday in San Francisco next month. I'm sorry to be so "biographical", one thing I have promised to do infrequently on this page, but I thought it would be better writing than a review of Grindhouse or something. (It was really gorey.) P.O.E.!

It's as uncertain as a child's bottom

-Simon Dedalus

Biographical

I was witlessly forced into a confrontation last night with Yana about how I present myself in my writings. After forcibly ejecting someone who was sleeping on my futon, she called me on my lifestyle contradictions: In my public journals, I am laid-back, advocate wandering & couch-surfing, laugh at the fiscally addicted, & present myself as spontaneous in movements & conversational whimsy. The side she claimed to have seen of me was frugal & lazy, up-tight about matters as earthy as the dishes & the radio volume, & a host of other minor sins. For the deluge of information in our age, broadcasted & diffused with perplexing complexity, how one paints oneself online or in whatever ’zine one schmoozes oneself into, is that schizophrenic alter ego, which more might encounter than its fleshy namesake. The art of representation, a Shakespeare would say, makes the wind its post-horse, whereas one’s corporal self, far less glamorous than as has been depicted, freaks out if a spoon wasn’t properly loaded in the dishwasher, or if a colleague misrepresents herself in her ’blog.

“Manathu-Vorcyon! I behold thee flaming in my halls,

Light of thy mothers soul!
I see thy lovely eagles round;

Thy golden wings are my delight,
& thy flames of soft delusion.”

-William Blake, Europe: A Prophecy