Final(ly)

Overlooked, Pt. I

That's right, I'm getting back in the bizness of including media and regular features in my posts. This is how #METASWAG got its groove back. I've just completed one of the two finals I have this week, and I'm ready to blow off steam. You know how you blow off steam? Listen to metal.

Psychedelic titans of stoner-doom Elder summoned up one of 2011's best albums. Always crushing and always gorgeous, Dead Roots Stirring never rests for a second as it snakes from one Iommi-sized riff to the next. The sound is bona fide classic. Check it out.



In the next post, I'll discuss Marvel's big Avengers v. X-Men event, The Cabin In The Woods, and the new Mount Eerie record.

Pure inspiration

"The Return Of Anonnimouse"

all gold
It's the creed
Bemy Dress
even if gods say gold
What else say if god god god
I am the trailer revolution
revolve if we revolve: I am the KISS ARBITER
let's make this impossible :) ( :) HAPPY )
[TACO COCK IT]


_ _ _

Worth

thinking

I've stopped posting my blogs on Facebook and Twitter. I haven't invested much time or thought in my blogging, which doesn't make me feel sad.

#METASWAG used to be my favorite place to think. Now I think with friends, think with paper, think with comics, think with poetry, think with reading, think with influence, think in class and think at work.

Let me turn again to #METASWAG, in a time of minor need, to think.

[Fran and I are both typing a lot right now, and the click-clatter of the keys is filling me with comfort]

Blackout/eramthgiN

I can drink a lot. I can drink a little.

I drank a lot on Friday (with near-disastrous results, I imagine). I drank nothing at all on Saturday (with near-disastrous results as well). Danger is something I should better take into account when partying, but for the most part so far I've escaped injury and embarrassment . I can still count the days I've woken up with nothing but regret and shame.

I'd like to keep that count. I'd like to see that number stand still.

I'm not being self-policing, reactionary or melodramatic. When I say I'm profoundly happy, I mean it. Of course I have demons, ambivalences, worries. If I didn't struggle with myself, I wouldn't know myself very well.

However, for the most part, I live a deeply-felt joy. Like, surges of it. It washes over me. I'm lucky to have this. I'm lucky to feel confident in myself.

This is why I need to redefine my drinking. I've done the wilding I needed to. I don't need to unleash some underexplored facets of my identity. I don't need to flirt with the extremity of my soul. I don't need to exaggerate traits that are barely visible or just aren't there at all when I don't drink.

I've been reminded that I was sober for 21 years, so my habits are still very much unsteadily under construction. I'm comfortable with this reality, but I'd also like to get comfortable with a less drunk me.

I'm not worried about myself. I'm more excited than anything.

[I can't wait to get dinner with my family; I can't wait for the new Uncanny X-Men this week]

Too easy

This will be another post I don't publish on Twitter and Facebook. It's more superficially personal than most of my blogging. I'll start publishing my blogs in May? Later this week? I'm sure I'll have plenty to say about The Avengers. I haven't even talked about the Animal Collective Record Store Day release.

Another post!

Love y'all.