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Jazzrags n richers

The sound of a tangy saxophone came drifting in through the open window, followed by somewhat muffled, audible glimpses of a jazzy backing band. Not exactly the usual noises nor atmosphere that came to be the dreary norm. So of course, it had to be investigated. Unfortunately, upon closer inspection and almost physical interaction, it turned out that the aforementioned ensemble was not a group of possible vagrants who decided to have a little jam outside, but rather a (hopefully) paid set of musicians, hired to entertain the guests of an annual dinner event of the local upper echelon of capitalists, though they'd probably prefer to be called entrepreneurs.

I'm sure they think it classy, that it elevates their little gathering of mostly lightly-taxed individuals, but the ironic reality is, that jazz originated in the poorest circles of society, who simply didn't want to impose the same 'standards' on themselves as the upper classes did, musically or otherwise. And rightly so.

Having said that, it does leave a mildly sour taste in my eardrums that the perception of this 'poor people's music', over time, somehow transformed into the exact opposite, where it is celebrated and adopted, perhaps even fetishised to some degree, by the very people that initially wouldn't want to have anything to do with it, precisely because of its origins and any related, preconceived notions.

So I sit here and wonder, think loudly and ponder, how humans cycle through opinions, masters and minions, to arrive at a new-same-old end; but who'd you blame, my friend?

#thoughts #music #jazz #rich and poor #perception #writing

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Ode to BE

dead stares

lead fares

thread wears

dread mares

fed spares

red lairs

sped flares

plead cares

head scares

#poetry #it rhymes #public transport #gloominess

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They call me Don QuiMoete. My windmills are CEOs.

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Looking forward to this workshop. Hopefully I'll be able to spew forth one of the things that have been lurking in the darker corners of my mind, perhaps even for the enjoyment(?) of some folks out there.

#challenge accepted #storytelling #cthulhu #writing

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Exiled by outcasts

If one is evicted from a community of like-minded people, who are themselves already not part of mainstream society, presumably one is either too mainstream, or not single-mindedly like-minded enough to belong to them. Safely discarding the former reason, this one is somewhat saddened by the strict gatekeeping that has been applied by a name- and faceless persona via the interwebs on the basis of a few short statements of yours truly. What happened to the inclusiveness and openness towards anything 'alternative' from when this one grew up? Was it an isolated occurrence, an island of different-ness, that was never a thing elsewhere? Has the 'elitism' of people that this one used to consider part of the same struggle taken over entirely and one is only accepted by pretending that one knows nothing and needs to learn everything from the ground up as they spoon-feed the relevant information? Are all the knowledge and opinions that this one accumulated throughout the years somehow to be displayed in a single paragraph? Impossible. With attention-spans the length of a falling brick, one could suppose that as much info as possible needs to be crammed into a tiny space to avoid losing the reader. Much like you right now, surely. In any case, stemming from one of the most gatekeep-y communities that the musical landscape has to offer, including views on other people and genres, this one appreciates that the aforementioned trvest group is at least outright against you, instead of drawing you in with all kinds of niceties and reassurance, only to then suddenly find that you are, in fact, not as welcome as you were led to believe. If the bouncer at a local club specifically shouted at you to 'fuck right off' while you're still at the back of the queue, wouldn't that be preferable to that same bouncer picking you out of the crowd, leading you all the way to the entrance to finally proclaim 'I'm sorry, dear. You don't belong here and have to leave now. Do come back!'? Despite the many years and individuals that have tried and partially succeeded to educate the general public about whichever kind of subculture, formerly vaguely allied groups have apparently not learned, at all, to cooperate. Times have changed. People, too. None for the better, it seems. The usual, really.

#music #subculture #goth #black metal #gatekeeping #rant #misanthropy #alternative #thoughts #internet

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A weird scifi-pocalypse dream

The short-ish version:

Unsure why, but a group of people have been sent into space to try and prevent a major disaster from happening to earth. While orbiting around, lots of things go horribly wrong, stuff breaks, people break, mission can no longer be achieved, meanwhile one of the crew pregnant somehow, not looking good. Decision to abandon space station/orbit and flee in emergency shuttle towards earth. Before that, more people are left behind, suffocating outside the shuttle, open fractures etc. On the way back, earth barely visible due to massive nebulous asteroid field, turns out the course was set by captain upon take-off for London area, which apparently is where things are really bad and if the course had been changed, could've probably landed on other side of planet safely. Increasing tension and hostility among the crew. They land and get out, it's dark/overcast, dead and decaying people all around, remaining shuttle group tries to flee as massive file of motorcycle gangs drive down highway, presumably away from worse things. Group splits up, trying to use motorised vehicle/tricycle to flee, but is spotted by janitor dude (happened to be Denis O'Hare but with full hair), stumbling towards the 2 at vehicle. 1 shouts 'jump on the back' and she does but gets grabbed by janitor, is immediately in pain as her arm is sizzled through by acid touch weirdness, janitor falls down and rips off her foot too, she stays behind, entangled, shouting 'just jump on the back, yeah?' and 1 escapes alone into the shit-show that is now the world. Maybe.

Final note: the long-ish version would have a lot more dismemberment, gore and otherwise nasty things, and perhaps a few more why's answered, but they unfortunately elude me at this point.

#space ship #dystopia #apocalypse #gore warning #horror #nightmare fuel

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Think you’ve got some kind of vocals for this? Gi’s a shout.

#music #work in progress #hip hop #experimental