[REWRITE] Schitzo – Manifestation Of A Nomad…Jack Kerouac, Lowell Sun And Bastard Saint (Excerpts Part 2)…[Second Pass Edit]…

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Schitzo – Manifestation Of A Nomad…Jack Kerouac, Lowell’s Son And Bastard Saint (Excerpts Part 2)…[Second Pass Edit]… Just so people know Part 1 has not been published yet, so we’ll start here. These are excerpts from an early version of a non-fiction memoir.  Again this is a true story…the caveat being that what readers take from this may have dissenting opinions of it’s possibility to be true.  For example, some might not agree or believe in the possibility of descriptions of phenomena described herein, and see them as delusional experiences (this is key and left for the reader to decide).  Again that is the point, each reader will see these descriptions as they relate to their own personal beliefs.  It is written with the highest regard to accuracy, and is in relation to the entire story, only a small piece of what the complete story has to offer readers.  This is just a taste, and the final name of this memoir has not been completed as of the date of this being published.  Finally, the text is subject to change with subsequent rewrites.  Enjoy!

 

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Excerpt #1: Pre-Amble – 

r5768986bbSo I want to be an author, but all I could think of is what right did I have to try and be anywhere near the caliber of a wordsmith as many of the world greats that had come before me.  My writing is shit to be honest, but again it comes back to my belief that this is a long term learning process, always reaching for the sky to attain higher levels of this disciplined art.  What I do have going for me is the many experiences that have been laid out before me to explore, going deeper when there was no shovel to dig.  My fingernails are stained from the soil, my hands chaffed and cracked, dry to the bone from the rare earth and loam.

Each piece that I write is part of a specific set of exercises that I look to explore and hopefully master at some point in the future.  The most exciting part of this experiment, that will unfold right before your eyes, is that each piece is published in relation to how I feel they belong in the overall story since the start of this process.  Each piece calls to me when it is meant to be posted.  What that fully means I do not know, but something prompts my conscious mind, and lets me know that this (whatever that means at that specific moment) is what is to be published next.  Some might see it as just the human mind doing what it’s supposed to do, others may see it as a higher calling.  Maybe it is a little of both, regardless to me at least, it is an interesting look into the creative process.

 

Excerpt #2:

I had been brainstorming for weeks, months maybe, thinking so hard that my brain began to hurt.  I was in transition from being a dreamer to a thinker and it was very very hard.  I had always been a fierce dreamer, the problem being that it was taking all the brain power afforded to me.  After many years, a lifetime really, the dreaming had literally taken over all of my mind.  Even worse, is that through the years I did not even notice it.  Then at some point dreaming became so dominant that I sometimes could not tell the difference between fantasy and reality.  It was as if I lived in a cartoon or was in the throes of full fledged dissociative episode where I was often living vicariously through an outer body experience.  It was not as some have described as looking down on their body’s in a situation where they were close to death, it was for me as if my body was going through the actions pertinant to the life situation and my detached soul taking the ghostly human form, sitting right next to me as my unconscious mind had completely taken over.  My detached self was prompting my earthly self to react as if I was a character in a video game.

I was a sleeper and I loved to lucid dream where I would drift half my life away, just as I had in a previous life as an opium addict, frequenting opium dens where I would indulge and float around, never seeming to reach a complete state of sleep.  There I would explore the universe without having to get off the hard bamboo mat, where my body would lie with my mind shelved on a small pillow.  Now don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with an overactive imagination, obviously it is in part, absolutely vital to reaching our full potential.  At the time, more of it the better I thought.  It would help me to experience more of life with an open mind…and for the most part it did.   Having an overactive imagination opened my mind to experience all that I could, and helped me to understand and accept many things that others seem to have a hard time reconciling about the human race and the breadth of differences in people.  There was plenty of logic in there as well, which I now know I had confused to be a full fledged thought process, but logic is only a small part of a robust thinking mind.

I had come to the realization that I now had to rewire my neuronal pathways in my brain to be more of a thinker, and put the data stores in my mind to good use as there was no use for them in an overwhelmed dreaming mind.  Too many thoughts and experiences coming into brain storage and not much of that coming back out with intelligent efficiency.  Think of it like having hard disks or sets of file cabinets in your mind, and they are all overflowing with billions of separate thoughts coming and going into and out of consciousness.  There is only so much space before they begin to overflow, losing and misfiling pieces of paper or data.  At some point when these pieces of information are called forth by the conscious mind, the problem faced is that the data or files are now incomplete, corrupt, and damaged.  You can imagine the problems this would begin to cause…wait, what were we talking about, I completely lost my train of thought.

Now all that might sound foreign to some as each person’s mind learns and is wired differently, but we’ve all heard the old addage as well as the song “Don’t fall in love with a dreamer”…as well as the part about the fool.  It also happens that many people have a more healthy balance and division in their use of brainpower.  For those who do not, like me, I’m apt to say that everything happens for a reason.  If I had not developed the way I had just described, I definitely would not be writing all the things I am now.  So what might be seen as weakness, I am now flipping on it’s head (No pun intended), and turning it into a form of strength.  In the extremes, It is how many people with seemingly devastating and debilitating disabilities, forge on with heroic stamina and poise.  With all that said, we cannot forget that societal stigma tends to deny that hidden wounds and internal mental scars can be just as devastating, if not worse.

In being a dominant dreamer, I can now see how so many are held back by it’s comforting yet deceptive charm.  Also as in many cases we are not taught the difference between dreaming and thinking, that there is a huge psychological and cognitive difference.  The phenomenon is often described that the affected person cannot see the forest for the trees.  As I realize all of this, it’s like a light switch has turned on in my brain.  Spending days, months, and recently years forcing myself to brainstorm, think, and write…I can actually now, as I put pen to page, feel the physical transition and transformation taking place in my head.  The dendrites and neurons in my brain are rewiring as I speak.  I now regularly go in and out of what are commonly referred to as peak experiences, and reaching the tipping point the words come to the page like an avalanche.  I can feel the blood pumping through my veins with excitement, my body a neuro-chemical suit.  As you can imagine it is not easy mentally making that transition, I can assure you that.  There is so much to tell…I cannot get the words out fast enough…It’s going to take me a lifetime (which I do not have) to complete, but I will do my best.

 

Excerpt #3:

The people began to feel lost in the coldest and darkest period in history.  Freewill was their ball and chain and again they were frightened.  The sage began to speak, “Flung into the darkness”, the man continued…”I was given the knowledge that is available to all men and women, all you have to do is stop and listen.  My Father’s Father was a great man.  My Father’s Father’s Brother was also a great man.  They recognized and chose to focus on the hope and the possibility for good in all humanity and became proprietors for the people.”  They knew that they could bring the people great joy and that it was good.  The world had just emerged from one of the greatest threats to all humanity, the greatest war against evil, men and women had ever known.  This was not about religion, or dogma, or God…far from it as a matter of fact.  What is known is that in exchange for winning the most tumultuous war of all time, in defeating evil this time, that it had not under any circumstances been destroyed.  There were many like my family, who had great faith in mankind as well as in the trees, sun, oceans, stones, and soil.  In order for the great war to have been one, it was well known that with all good there had to great evil…thus the world was slung into the universe, and bones ground to dust.

The evil that all humans knew continued to roam the land, taking the weak to their knees as they worshipped instant gratification into a blinding obsession.  The shortsighted were once again unaware and blinded by love, roaming the earth for souls to influence and nurture…but there was a catch.  The catch being that the earth was now slightly more than fifty percent evil, and slightly less than fifty percent good, so evil forces would always have a stronger attraction than good.  The difference seems slight but but paradoxically immense and infinite.  Legend has it that Mother Nature was to watch over this split and further the wisest mind of all time.  Whatever it was that was greater than the Mother was androgynous and absent of human form, and the life and energy and the future and the past and the intersection of all things, held the universe together in a balance (ebb and flow) beyond the conception of anyone on earth.  The equation of this meticulous and benevolent balance (never quite reaching perfect equilibrium), proved order through chaos, encouraging expansive outward movement in the formation of the evolutionary space-time continuum.   The constant tension of opposing forces is key to the development of both the universe and the species.

All that the people knew was that they were naked and flawed.  They felt the urge to compete, and there were no laws.  So the people had to create laws, and although unavoidably flawed, they had to be born out of protection for people who ought not be taken advantage of.  There were many who wanted to be “Gods”, even though there was no proof that there was such a thing.  Some of these self-proclaimed “Gods” were fare and charitable.  On the other hand there were many self-proclaimed “Gods” who were miserable and yearned for more and more power.  They did not care about the people, drunk on the blood and tears on those they held influence and sought to destroy.  This was the cost of freewill.  This was not beset upon the people, the people beset it upon themselves.

The earthly gravitational microcosm was the family, and the intention was good, although flawed. There was tension, but the intention was good, although flawed.  There was learning, and the intention was good, although again flawed.  Until one day when the son of the Father’s Father felt inferior for one reason or another, and that son took the burdens of all of his family that had come before him as personal.  This son saw an opportunity to exploit a weakness, a metaphorical cancer, which he also had the choice to extinguish.  Instead of stomping it out, he let it flourish because he felt slighted and inferior.  At the time he did not distinguish it for a cancer that would grow and swell uncontrollably to magnanimous proportions, fed by the bitterness of his brothers scorn.  There were many incidents along the way which inadvertently spurned and encouraged the disease.  At some point it grew out of the control of the weaker son’s hands, the point at which he had the opportunity to stop the spread had come and gone, and he was blinded by hate.  Some of it was rational but more of it was not. This brother sadly believed that if he waited for just the right time, when no one was looking he could destroy his brother, the people however would be the real victims.  Because he was blind, he could not see beyond his brother.  If he had to spend his entire life (till his dying day) trying to destroy his sibling, he would, even if it also meant the destruction of himself as well all he held dear.

 

Excerpt #4:

One night as the scorned brother was sleeping, in his dreams he came upon a powerful force in the form of a spirit.  It was very hard to see but he knew that it was there.  He felt power and awe and riches, beyond the dreams of any man who had come before him.  He felt compelled to kneel before the force to get a better look, as it was very very dark.  Without a moments notice, as he tried to focus on the spiritual force, he realised he could see the massive enticing power before him if he kept his eyes closed.  It was then then that the dark force seemed to reach out to the scorned brother, and the powerful said to him…

I’m pleased to make your acquaintance,

We have not met before, but you always knew I was there for you.

It was before my stay in the womb that you were conceived.

Taking the position of the blind, with one exception, the ability to feel.

Is it not so quiet with so many around.

People weakened from participating in humanity.

May I touch your face as I cannot see to well?  As my fingers cross the breeze and I feel your scars…

They are smooth and rough as the result of many fine years.

With your eyes closed, is it not true that I let you see?

Does the grass not grow, as we watch, right beneath our feet?

Does the sun not feed, insatiable…Does the water not quench, parched?

It offers me a gentle and pure time, with the dearly beloved.

Wait not, come into me and I into you, let me show you the world!

And you me, know that your secrets are safe with me.

Let me do the walking as you rest, forgotten son.

As we join together in spirit, you keep what you have, and I give you the rest.

The future is yours for all eternity.

It is all about you now and forever will be.  With all of us…

 

Excerpt #5:

I found myself plastered to my bed with fear and agitation.  My musculature was tightly shaking, anchored as if taught rubber bands were wound tight around my bones.  I was in the throes of an uncontrollable full body spasm with no end in sight, grinding my teeth so tight and unable to swallow.  Burying my face into my pillow, I tried to meditate to calm my nerves which were exploding with sharp pains as if I was lying on a plywood bed of nails.  Parts of my extremities were falling asleep and waking with no warning, just as one feels when they get pins and needles in a foot or arm from pinched nerves.  Sweat leaked from my pores, although there was no sign of fever, it was in a word brutal.  I did not know how long i could keep this up as my mind was anxiously suggesting that I was going completely insane.

I was lying in a bed next to the nurses station and there was only one incandescent light in that area with a single nurse doing paperwork.  The room was otherwise completely dark and as my eyes were adjusted to the darkness, I could see thirty other beds in the same room all full with patients, many writhing in different states of insanity.  Some were vomiting and others were screaming out loud in all kinds of noisy agony, the nurse just sat there as if this was normal. The large room was only separated by the warm humid outside air by large screens and there was no breeze.  I was hoping upon deception that a cool breeze would pass over my body, but it was not to be.  Out in the yard, in plain sight, there was an extremely large industrial size bug zapper where hundreds of mosquitoes and moths were electrocuted with every passing moment.  With the constant biological genocide before me,  I found myself wishing to be in their place…just kill me and put me out of my misery.  I thought to myself that if there was a hell, this would surely be it.

My mind began to wander aimlessly, I was not being kept there against my will…mulling over the idea that I could just walk out the main screen door not far from where I was interned at any time.  Then the reality of the situation would hit…where would I go?  It was quite feasable and a bit calming to think that I would probably feel better just getting this out of my system, running off into the black night screaming my head off until I fell to the ground in complete exhaustion.  The problem was that I did not have the energy to make this happen, exhausted from my hopeless quivering corpse. There was a clock on the far wall that would unervingly tick tick tick, every deafening second heard through the cries of despair and agony…every single moment felt like hours.

It was then that I realized, with nothing left in the tank, that before I had come to this godawful place that my father had given me a set of brand new rosary beads in a small leather pouch.  They were in a drawer right near were my head was situated, but I was convinced at what help would they give…none, I’m sure.  As I began to choke on the frothing saliva from my mouth and nose, I suddenly felt compelled to go for the beads.  I removed the beads from the pouch and grasped them tight enough to rip them apart. After wrapping them a few times around each hand, the crucifix fell into the palm of my hands surreptitiously, as if that was the place it was supposed to be.  Also inside the pouch was a small piece of folded glossy paper with prayers and a step by step method on how to use the beads. The instructions indicated what sections of the beads corresponded to each of the individual stations of the cross.  I was not the praying type and did not even know if I believed in any God.  Having no place to go and seeing no harm in attempting to just say the words and go through the motions, even if it only meant helping me to pass the time, anything to ride out this physically emotional and psychological trauma.

The one light in the background of the nurses station helped me to just make out the words on the paper now unfolded and laid out before me.  I first said an opening prayer as instructed, and then began to go through the stations of the cross one by one…it was unintelligible, choppy, and manic, but I soldiered on.  I would forget where I was and lose my spot as I mechanically moved the beads through my wiry shaking fingers.  I found myself tentatively re-reading passages and sentences over and over as I made my way through the process.  Sweat dripping from my hands and forehead, acidic fluid that upon contact with the print on the glossy instructions, rendered the words illegible. As I was doing all of this, I simultaneously was pleading with the universe to please let this pass, please-please-please let this pass.

At some point a few minutes later the shaking began to wane somewhat.  I was ecstatic that just faking it and going through the motions was working.  Suddenly stunned into a kind of stasis, In the air above the other patients right before my eyes, appeared what looked to be a hologram but it was more real than that.  There in an almost indescribable full range of color and motion, appeared a perfectly symmetrical apparition several feet wide.  At first there were several wrapped layers of green interwoven prickled thorn strands, wrapped around a beating heart that had flames shooting out the aortic canal at the crest.  About two feet on each side of the wreath of rotating thorns, the ether seemed to produce a moving universe where time and space were flowing towards but not fully reaching me.  My eyes no longer welded closed, then witnessed a woman appear above the heart in full color, while all the imagery that I just described was in constant motion all around her.  I had to be hallucinating this I thought, but I’ve never hallucinated without drugs before.  Anyway I continued to experience this phenomena as it was quite amazing and in turn began to calm my wretched frame. The woman looked only to what I could recognize as Mary the Mother of Jesus, seated and draped in a blue and white separated headdress and full body shawl, while the flames from the aortic valve flashed in her lap. She had a slight ethereal white halo rotating around her head.

All around her were what I recognized too be visions of men and women saints (if you believe in that sort of thing) and androgynous angels coming and going, propping her up in the air as I just lay there plussed. At some point her lips began to move but there was no auditory projection, nonetheless I somehow knew what she was indicating…that ‘I had to make a choice’.  As soon as I realized this, I could see what I can only describe as the ‘forces of light’ situated to her right side.  For some reason I equated this ‘welcoming force’ with the presence of ‘Jesus’ although there was no sight of what I could impossibly perceive to be ‘his’ likeness.  I actually felt a calm bliss with the ‘forces of light and ‘peace’.  Simultaneously on her left side was also only what I can describe as the ‘forces of darkness’. Similarly there was no ‘demon or satan’ but the  ‘impression was put upon me’ that they were there in the same way that ‘The Son Of God’ was there on the opposite side.  From the ‘dark forces’, I felt ‘power and strength greater than I had ever known’, and it sent shivers up my spine and riddled goosebumps all over my skin.  There were no more words, but the side with the ‘dark forces’ was the only side trying to ‘make its case to coax, convey, and convince me to come to their side’.  It was ‘implied’ that the ‘world would be mine…power and riches beyond my dreams, no more room for pain, and eternal glory’.  Focussing back on the side with the ‘good forces’, there was no hard sell and no promises, but ‘calm, peace, and eternal life’.

As I gripped the rosary tight, I thought to myself I have to make a leap, I had to make a choice (well really I did not have to, but I did anyway), even if it was going through the motions as I said before.  I checked to make sure I was not dreaming…but I was wide awake.  I always could tell when I was in a dreaming state and I was surely WIDE AWAKE!  So I made my decision and ‘click’ everything went black and all the pain and shaking stopped.  As I lay there for a moment, I felt a rush of adrenaline and power.  I wanted to yell out what had just happened or tell the nurse but I was rendered small, minute, and humbled.

Next thing I know I was suddenly stunned and shocked awake in a pool of sweaty white sheets.  The clock on the far wall revealed it was early afternoon the next day.  Exactly twelve hours later from 2 a.m. when the visions occured…I was covered in itchy hives and the clock read 2 p.m.

 

 

Thanks for reading and for all your kind words and support!

More Interesting Articles and Reviews to come.

Cheers and Bless!

 

CM ☕

 

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Sunset Hollywood, Seattle Sound And European Christmas Vacation Anthony Bourdain Style! Also My Latest Swedish Snus Haul…

Sunset Hollywood, Seattle Sound And European Christmas Vacation Anthony Bourdain Style! Also My Latest Swedish Snus Haul ~

Today Up On Christmachine Audio Reference Music Server :

 

UPDATE: @ BOTTOM OF THIS POST 12/23/14

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Photo Courtesy Of Doc!

So I just got off the phone with a relative visiting Los Angeles, and I ask, where have they gone…”We’ve been to Venice Beach, Santa Monica, yada yada, and Disneyland in Anaheim. We’ve been very busy, tomorrow we head to San Diego where we will be able to relax a bit more.” I replied, “Awesome…what about the Sunset Strip, how did you like that?” I remember when I went to California for my first time…I had a local take me to see the sites, and when I brought up that I wanted to go to the strip, she said…’there’s not really much there, but I get it, we can make a stop there so you can check it out.’ I get it many locals will say that it’s a dirty waste of time. Not me, I thought, I was on a pilgrimage and if I did not experience anything other than “The Strip” that would be fine. I also get that it’s very touristy…I did not care it was the 1980’s and I had to go. So anyway my relative on the phone today  says, they did not go to 346462hjSunset, and they would not have a chance. It was like a knife in my chest…WHATTTTT!!! At least do a drive through, WTF! So much amazing history but I guess it’s not to be. I know some of you are saying F Sunset, dirty waste of time…WRONG!

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Photo Courtesy Of Doc!

 

All I could think of to myself is that some day they will regret not going to the strip, just to see The Rainbow, The Whiskey, and The Troubabour. It reminded me of my first trip to Continental Europe with my Grand Parents when they took us on the “safety tour” in the 80’s when I was young, God love em, but I remembered that they tried to censor our trip. I grew up in Iceland so debauchery was not new to me, but the grandparents were a bit naive and did not get that we, the young ones already experienced the “adult stuff”. My uncle, aunt, and cousins lived near Nijmegen, Holland. It was pretty awesome experiencing it like a local…riding the bike paths in and out of the city and the 10 miles from Beuningen to Arnhem. We had Fritz Met, fries Old Skool 377 Holland - CopyEditand mayonnaise, had to explain what the American word “Cool” to a local (It did not mean cold), and were hit with major porn next to the Disney Movies at the “Video Ring” while renting VHS tapes. As you know women’s breasts on TV, on the front page of the newspaper, and at the beach is normal in Europe.

 

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Photo Courtesy Of Doc!

We ate horse meat burgers (salty strange), canned hot dogs, and dairy products like eggs / butter / and unpasteurized fresh milk not refrigerated. Actually reminded me of Iceland, not the same, but eating strange foods that is. Remember there was no Anthony Bourdain or Andrew Zimmern on TV then and wandering gastronomy was not popular with Americans…still is not, but people “get” foi gras now even if they don’t want to eat it themselves.  Now I know better to go for the Pig Cheek and Tuna Collar…first! Thank you Mr. Bourdain.

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Photo Courtesy Of Doc!

I also went to a Dutch school with my cousin and a friend of his, and all the students were asking me all kinds of questions about celebrities (blech!) and MTV (remember it was the 80’s). It wasn’t all bad, in fact I had a great time in English class. Everyone in Holland had English class in school, what was really cool was when I listened to the kids speaking English (Very fluent by the way), I realized they were learning British English. When they asked me to read a passage in their class book everyone seemed amazed and were stunned that I did not have an Icelandic accent. American English I found out that day was quite different from UK English.

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Photo Courtesy Of Doc!

Anyway I did not accept the idea of a censored Europe, no matter what they did (Much more on that later in this piece, see the plane ride home)…I spent my free days to do whatever I wanted, on my own wisely. I knew what I was looking for and I was going to take advantage of it, no matter what anyone said. We drove to Paris and I remember my Grandparents rushing us by the nude statues…very silly indeed, could not be avoided in The Louvre. Also all the sex shops near the Moulin Rouge was awkward for them…lol. We also went to East Germany, this was before the wall came down, and it was quite sad. Far from the free East Berlin Berghain / Panoramabar lawlessness I would visit several years ago, totally not like I remembered in a great way. We further went to Antwerp Belgium, Amsterdam NL (All Over NL), Berlin DE, Luxembourg, and Zurich Switzerland.  It was a very fun trip. 346346hg

I know now days seeing police dogs and Machine guns at airports is pretty common, but back then it was not.  You see we planned our trip months ahead and found ourselves in Holland with military fighter jets doing mission test runs above the house. We turned on the radio and in Dutch, they were saying America was on the brink of w*ar after blo*wing up one  of K*had*afi’s homes, kil*ling his s*on. It was pretty scary for a while we did not know what was going to happen day to day. Would we be taking our scheduled flight a few weeks later from Brussels to the US. We thought about leaving early, thankfully we did not as everything seemed to settle down when it was time to leave.

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Photo Courtesy Of Doc!

So as I said I was not going to allow a censored tour of europe, I was a young kid but had been around the block a few times. So I was worried about customs searching my bags especially with all I had acquired on my trip…unknowingly by my Grandparents and with the heightened security. My collectables in my luggage were; several Cuban Cigars, a bottle of cheap French Drinking Wine that all the locals in Paris drank at lunchtime with their bread and fromage, 1 bottle of Russian Potato Vodka, 1 bottle of REAL Czechoslovakian Absinthe, 1 Switchblade, 1 pen…woman with disappearing dress, 1 pack of Po*rn Star Playing Cards, and there was more but you get the idea. I was not even a teen yet and I was a walking ball of debauchery to go, just add water. It was that Heavy Metal music, it was a bad influence on me…I’ll blame it on that. K.

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So we get to the airport in Brussels and began to put our luggage on the conveyor to the x-ray. As it went through I could have pissed myself. Breathe! As soon as my bag came through I picked it up and hustled it away about 30 feet to the bottom of the escalators. I grabbed another bag of my family’s as well. Then all of a sudden there was a commotion behind the scanner and two airport officials come out from behind and start pulling my Grandmother’s bag apart, obviously looking for something. They found nothing as my bag was safely away. Ah to be young again, man was I a handful. That was very close…very very close! Imagine them unpacking my suitcase full of treats right in front of my stunned Grandparents?!?! Anyway I passed through customs and on arrival in the US scuttled without even a search or declaration form in the US. As I walked by inspectors they paid me no attention as I tried to steady my bag, the bottles had come unwrapped and were now clinking. I almost shat myself…steady hand!

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Photo Courtesy Of Doc!

More to come about my trips to Continental Europe in the future, time to get back to music, Los Angeles, and Seattle. Forward a few years…Now it was the late 80’s, but I had travelled to LA in 83, 85, 88 and 89 and I did not establish my connections in the music industry until the middle of 1989. I thought to myself, I had missed out on Hendrix and the 60’s scene, as well as the Punk Movement in the 70’s (single digits, although I saw the 44633363mjRamones in 83 but that does not count, right, as I missed the movement). So I had to go to LA for the 80’s Glam Metal Scene…the Sunset strip was insane. The freaks were out and dressed to kill, it was more than you would imagine, the smell of Aqua Net and Phunky Kush was overwhelming. I got to see almost all of the LA Metal bands as there were shows every night of the week. It was a pretty carefree time as I was traveling back and forth between the UK, Boston, New York City, Los Angeles, and Seattle quite often. There were also many side trips to Vegas and Frisco as well. In the future I would find myself living between the UK, Reykjavik, Boston, San Diego, and San Francisco between tours in the 90’s. What made it even more amazing was that I was able to physically see the major turn in the music industry from LA Glam to The Seattle Sound.

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Photo Courtesy Of Doc!

When I look back on it, it was a seismic shift but as I just liked loud music I transitioned easily from Motley Crue and Ratt to Alice In Chains and Nirvana. I did not give a fuck about the politics and I got along with almost anybody, so at the time I did not notice the music was too different, of course it was different, but more importantly I could feel that I was part of something very unique and a part of history. What made everything more confusing was that Guns N’ Roses, Janes Addiction, and The Red Hot Chilli Pepper’s holding it up for LA blurring the Alternative lines. Megadeth, Metallica, Anthrax, and Slayer (The Big Four) where holding things up for thrash in the US and even bigger in Europe and South America. I would just the same listen to LA Guns, Mudhoney, or Megadeth (just as I do today)…where I really noticed the transition was when I went back home to work in the clubs in the 90’s.  All the work shifted from LA to Seattle for sure but back home Glam Metal was out and “Grunge” (hate that term) was in at some point. I didn’t get the memo that Metal was out and Seattle was in. I just went with the flow. The difference at home was the radio had stopped playing 80’s metal and full rotation was set on Seattle, it was really strange. Instead of taking my flights to LAX, I was now heading for SEATAC. That’s just the way it was. Not Enough time to write about the Raves and The Grateful Dead, Old Skool Rap Shows ( Notorious BIG, Snoop Dogg, Tupac, Warren G, NWA, Public Enemy, Wu Tang Clan, KRS 1, Dr. Dre, etc.) that’s for other articles…I was going nonstop for sure!

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Photo Courtesy Of Doc!

My experiences during these times are just beginning to be published, every day still I remember a new adventure and make note to be sure I remember to write about it here. “Bastard Saint” the Series has turned into something bigger. A book about all my experiences set to a bizarre ethereal netherworld. Based on a true story…there is so much to it, I will be posting excerpts from it in the New Year of 2015. Sorry, much later than I had expected because I want to give everybody a taste of how the book is coming along and the characters within, without giving away everything in a few posts. However I will probably self publish and give it away for free. So I look to give everyone here pieces to wet the tongue, while leaving people wanting to see development and progress with the full text.

So in closing here I wish everyone a Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and Happy Holidays! Have a drink and a toke on me…I’ll be sticking with my coffee, Ettan, and Skruf Xtra Stark with a little Thunder Ultra Raspberry / Thunder Frosted, Oden’s Kanel, Gotlandskt Julesnus to keep it real for the season! Real Swedish Imported Snus Taxes Paid(Med Smak Av Jul !)….not that American SNUS Shit!

 

Most Recent Imported Swedish Snus Haul:

CRPRSZ

UPDATE: 12/23/14 ~ Excellent News…I guess it was meant to be. I just got off Facetime and the relatives did make it to the Sunset Strip today and they Loved It!!! They are now safely in San Diego [Dago] @ Mission Bay. Pacific Beach Manana!

So Cali Love!!!

 

Thanks for reading and for all your kind words and support!

More Interesting Articles and Reviews to come.

Cheers and Bless Bless!

 

CM ☕

 

Please do not reproduce this article either all or in part without the expressed written permission of the author who can be reached via the “Contact” section in the header menu. You may link to the article if you wish, all that we ask is that you give credit to the respective author…”Christmachine” wherever you post a link. Thank you.

 

 

 

Copyright © 2015 Christmachine. All Rights Reserved.

©2014 – 2020 Christmachine

 

Oasis Appreciation via Lars Ulrich of Metallica, The Loudness wars, and The Greatest Moments in Rock and Roll History Series #6 [Videos ~ Mega Post]

Today Up On Christmachine Audio Reference Music Server :

 

Today we present “The Oasis Appreciation Post”. I have to start out by saying that it is very unlikely that “Oasis Appreciation” would show up here at this website. The reason being olmthat their album “(What’s the Story) Morning Glory?”, is considered to be the start of the “Loudness Wars”. Actually it had started before that however, no other album before then had taken “Brickwalled Recording” and Compression to the level that WTSMG had gone. Most albums after that were produced with the ideology that “Louder is Better” at moving as many units as possible. Even though almost everyone had bought into it, Oasis did not know that they were damaging the music, they just wanted to be the loudest band in the world. The way I choose to look at it is, because of the album WTSMG we now have the emergence of Hi-Res audio. You can thank them for it when you get a chance.

It was interesting to me when I heard Lars Ulrich from Metallica say ‘Oasis was the soundtrack to my life for the last 20 years.’ That is paraphrased because I can’t be bothered to look up his exact statement…but I have to show some F’ing attitude when It comes to paying homage to the Gallagher Brothers and their band Oasis. When Lars said this, it hit me in such a way that I realized that I had gone through a similar experience with the band Oasis albeit from a different perspective.

I really had not listened to much Oasis in the last decade but it reminded me at how much a part Oasis was in my wheelhouse in the 1990’s. They where loud, they were brash, and they could crank out songs and hooks with spine tingling hits. If you did not spend time in the UK during the 90’s or only heard a few songs on the radio you probably slagged them off. If it gives you any satisfaction, I can say that I hate the song “Wonderwall”. People gave me shit for liking them but I did not fucking care. You had to be there I guess.

As I’ve said before my biggest complaint about Oasis was their choice to record their albums so bricking loud and compressed that I’m forced to listen to their greatest live gigs on video when I want a fix. They are a much better live band than in the studio IMHO. It does not get much better than an Oasis set opening with “Fuckin in The Bushes” into “Rock ‘n’ Roll Star” into “Lyla” into “Acquiesce” into “Columbia” into “Morning Glory”, where…

“All your dreams are made
When you’re chained to the mirror of your razor blade
Today’s the day that all the world will see
Another sunny afternoon
Walking to the sound of my favorite tune
Tomorrow never knows what it doesn’t know too soon

Need a little time to wake up
Need a little time to wake up, wake up
Need a little time to wake up
Need a little time to rest your minds
You know you should, so I guess you might as well”

Songwriter; Gallagher, Noel

 

Oasis obviously stole from the the Beatles but were heavier, twisted with a sour punk aftertaste of the Sex Pistols. Just as the Rolling Stones stole from Muddy Waters and Guns N Roses stole from the Stones, Oasis was just easier to hate because of Liam Gallagher singing adamantly about “My Big Mouth”. If you don’t believe my rip off analogy, listen to The Rolling Stones “Sticky Fingers” followed by Guns N’ Roses “Appetite For Destruction” or “Lies” and you will know what I mean. I know people are now screaming at their monitors right now after having said that, but it’s what I believe. I think it was the renowned critic Stephen Thomas Erlewine who talked about bands who used other bands sound as a reference point and then built on that and that is what I got from Oasis. If the Beatles had continued on to the present day “the Oasis Songwriting style” is what I would hope them to sound like. Of course that’s my imagination running wild, as the Beatles were far superior OLMkmusicians, singers, and harmonizers. Many will see that as sacrilege but I’m humored for the moment. Continue screaming at monitor.

So say what you will, but for a moment in time, Oasis was the biggest band in the world. A lofty feat for any band, one for which many would trade their souls. After extensive touring from 97-99 it was well documented that Liam Gallagher had blown out his voice over his harsh singing style and a cocaine drip. I still find their live videos great to watch and love their ornery interaction with the audience. You can tell it’s out of love and affection for their fans, it’s just the way they are, being from the working class council estates of Burnage Manchester and making it big. Where Cobain was saying “I hate myself and I want to die”, Noel Gallagher a Nirvana fan wrote the song “Live Forever.”

I imagine Oasis as the kind of guys, like your best friends, where you get rip roaring drunk and coked out, and go fucking nuts. Blood, sweat, snot, and guts with fists flying only to find your crew all hugging in the end amongst broken beer bottles, bare feet, pieces of furniture and a smashed TV…no doubt with the stereo still playing very loud throughout it all. I don’t know if that was your experience but it was mine, at least that’s the way it was with my friends.

Maybe you had to be there, definitely maybe.

Articles: Reference Metallica. Ulrich, Lars:

http://www.theguardian.com/music/musicblog/2014/sep/29/oasis-changed-lives-lars-ulrich-felix-white

http://www.blabbermouth.net/news/metallicas-lars-ulrich-oasis-has-been-the-soundtrack-to-my-life-for-the-last-20-years/

 

The Greatest Moments in R ‘N’ R History Series #6 – Oasis Plays Knebworth, Hertfordshire, England [Direct Link Below]

 &

My Favorite Oasis Live Show Videos (No Particular Order), And Portal [Direct Link To The Other Side Of This Site]:

http://playlists.christmachine.com/youtube/oasis-appreciation-via-lars-loudness-wars-and-the-greatest-moments-in-r-n-r-history-series-6-mirror-main-day-page-mega-post-with-videos-2/

 

Thanks for your support, more interesting articles to come!

Cheers and Bless Bless!

 

CM ☕

 

Please do not reproduce this article either all or in part without the expressed written permission of the author who can be reached via the “Contact” section in the header menu. You may link to the article if you wish, all that we ask is that you give credit to the respective author…”Christmachine” wherever you post a link. Thank you.

 

 

Copyright © 2015 Christmachine. All Rights Reserved.

©2014 – 2020 Christmachine