eris-bacchanal

Latest Posts by eris-bacchanal

There was still such optimism about the future, then.

“Space station” by Denise Watt-Geiger, 1979.

Howard Chaykin’s 1979 graphic novel adaptation of Alfred Bester’s sci-fi classic, The Stars My Destination

These were coveted precious artifacts for us kids; they were talismans in the truest sense like the root ancient Greek verb TELEIN, "to initiate into the mysteries." They validated and confirmed some of the hollow absurdity, stale lies, and frayed seams we were starting to notice about the adult world.

So we mounted them everywhere, carving our territory with heiroglyphs. We pasted Wacky Pack stickers where we'd always see them: on school books, desks, nights side tables, lamps, walls next to our beds. They served as wards that would stay blindness and ignorance from descending on us, save us from becoming like the sullen violent adults that surrounded us. The Storied stickers were a comfort, but also like a rallying call of transgression that poked the fake world in its eye.

We're a whole generation raised simultaneously under two religions: Consumerism and Anti-Consumerism. Wacky Pack and their spiritual cousin, Mad Magazine both in their own way, stood shoulder to shoulder with the stories of Jack London, John Fitzgerald, Roald Dahl and Mark Twain, that didn't talk down to us like we were imbeciles.

They felt special, like a secret visual language, intended for us, acknowledging our minds.

WACKY PACK WHIZ BANG

VISIONS OF VINTAGE WACKINESS

Topps Wacky Packages Series 16

Circa 1976

Remember kids, the best way to embody important values like equality, inclusion and diversity is to maintain a prioritizing hyper focus favouring your arbitrary demographic based identity group.

Always loudly demonstrate your beliefs in individual human rights, person-first ethos, anti-nationalism, anti-communism, anti-ideologism , anti-elitism, anti-classism, by shaming and castigating others for failing to conform to this enlightenment which only we possess, and has forced us to always protectively act solely in the vested interests of our group in the name of justice for all.

Think of it as being part of an eternal elite Hive granting you purpose, clarity and a badge of untouchable authority. It is essential, if we are to prevail in having our truth dominate, that you see, think and act solely through the lens of our unified group's needs, feelings, grievances and agenda. If you ever doubt, remember that is your internalized misogyny. There is only being with us, or being oppressors and we won't tolerate them. Don't worry if it sounds confusing, we have it very clearly defined for you in our discourse that no one is allowed to debate.

Be proud, aggressive and fierce about it: devalue, discredit and dismiss dissent it is the hate from out-group voices who don't want us to get our way, they are distracting noise. Opposition shouldn't be allowed to be heard, it could confuse people. If they oppose us then they are by our definition, oppressors. Whatever their needs, or any challenge or question, always be swift in calling out opposition and use anything you can to silence it. Make our voice loud and overpowering, denounce them as haters, anything it takes. That is how you will have freedom to carve out entitled space and privilege for our group. Then you just continue to self-promote us under the banner of inclusive justice and equality that no one can argue against.

I know it sounds deceitful, hypocritical and impossible to pull off, but trust us, we've been doing it for decades, no one has stopped us yet and most wouldn't dare try. Demands and shaming, always repeat what works.

Monuments Chapter 1 In Paris, frozen on huge stone pedestals, cult characters from popular culture are raised to the rank of “Monuments”. Paris-based photographer Benoit Lapray says It is a way for him to underline that these heroes of fiction are today part of the world’s cultural heritage. 

Kurt Vonnegut:

“When I was 15, I spent a month working on an archeological dig. I was talking to one of the archeologists one day during our lunch break and he asked those kinds of “getting to know you” questions you ask young people: Do you play sports? What’s your favorite subject? And I told him, no I don’t play any sports. I do theater, I’m in choir, I play the violin and piano, I used to take art classes.

And he went WOW. That’s amazing! And I said, “Oh no, but I’m not any good at ANY of them.”

And he said something then that I will never forget and which absolutely blew my mind because no one had ever said anything like it to me before: “I don’t think being good at things is the point of doing them. I think you’ve got all these wonderful experiences with different skills, and that all teaches you things and makes you an interesting person, no matter how well you do them.”

And that honestly changed my life. Because I went from a failure, someone who hadn’t been talented enough at anything to excel, to someone who did things because I enjoyed them. I had been raised in such an achievement-oriented environment, so inundated with the myth of Talent, that I thought it was only worth doing things if you could “Win” at them.”

have a nice day :)

Actually, love tends to bloom between people who are not just at their best, but performing well past that level, a hyperbest. The chemicals(basically all of them) that burst into overdrive with infatuation are to ensure pair bonding, so they supe us up to be more charming than we usually are, more funny, more patient and genial, more doting and interested, more carefree, more romantic, and to feel inspired like they haven't been in ages, delerious with the mere thought of the other person. Nothing feels wrong in the world, nothing can bring the person down. This drugged out love psychosis can last six months or more.

So, what sort of person is relating to this quote about being such a mess and the mess pretending all that love walking on by must just not be real, right? Like a little baby fairy tale about unconditional love. Except unconditional is not meant to be bestowed on an adult.

Love between adults is necessarily and deservedly replete with conditions and boundaries and deal breakers. That's something the head shrinkers with all their crazy jargon would label "healthy". Compare that with the girl shopping around, who has an important condition of her own that Prince Charming be sturdy and resilient to her messes while staying unconditionally true and taking care of her.

Be very wary of girls who like this sort of accountability shirking qualification. The fantasy validating the true loved mess is everything because they are always a mess and the mess is a very big problem.

You see a similar sentiment in the spookily common meme that reads , "if you can't handle me at my worst, you don't deserve me at my best". This is an extra special red flag. Women who like this idea live in a paradoxical delusion about themselves.

These are women who spend a great deal of time at their worst, and if they have a best, it is like the fine China only for when the Queen is coming. So this girl who is a disregulated hurricane prone harpy has the sort of divergent mind that can cut a swathe of destruction and misery everywhere she goes but still have a diva level delusion of how precious and special she is and that her mythical best that perhaps no one has ever even seen is some extraordinary one-of-a-kind prize worthy of a perfect super human endurance doormat who will perpetually caretake her massive maintenance requiring hysterical mess. It's worth a shot. There are masochistic self loathing broken souls qualified for the job. She just has to nab one.

People express truths about themselves that aren't always apparent up front, but can be glimpsed with the smallest of gestures. The sorts of quotations, slogans and memes that resonates with a person are worth your attention, maybe even the fact that they are drawn to epigrams and aphorism in the first place is a flag. It perhaps suggests a hole in the person, a lost neediness seeking direction and reassurance constantly, not to mention a lazy attitude about fixes.

The ones demanding tolerance of their awfulness or conversely warning you off if you can read it, are a subset of this greater cohort who've earned a now cliché caution, that people who surround themselves with inspirationals are not the inspired or even the meagerly functional, but usually the neurotically depressed.

Those "don't give up right before the miracle arrives" vampires are worse than just an Eyeore. Eyeore is a pathetic creature mired in his mopey pessimism, but a sympathetic one, as well as being possessed of a certain self awareness and delimiting the amount of time he inflicts himself on others. The Inspirationals seeking are starving, voraciously seeking anything soothing, anything to feel momentarily better, or a facimile of whole. They're definitely not seeking personal accountability, it is anathema to them, requiring the impossible of them, like honesty, reflection, effort and acceptance. When they see you amble up, all you are is a big ol' rail of coke to them. To consume.

Heed the warnings, because they can exhude the most charismatic lures just long enough to dig their tendrils in to you. It's too late then. By then you're just a feed trough. For a while. Til you're empty.

I'm pushing 50. The median age of a Canadian male is 39. We are beginning the decline into an aging society, and yet various inteterests keep stripmining the healthcare system, making it wobblier, less efficient, more expensive. And eventually y, after those interests hobble the system, they say, "see, you've had your socialist experiment and it went as expected"

Reblog if you’re 30 or older

This is an experiment to see if there really are as few of us as people think.You can also use this to freak out your followers who think you’re 25 or something. Yay!

Yes.

EXACTLY.

I wish I owned any property because I really need this wall somewhere in my yard.

Yep. That's about the shape of the roads I tend to find myself on.

Find the long and winding road home.  By karl_shakur

The Mighty Tardigrade is defined by his endurance. He persists, the Avatar of resilience. Tardigrade cannot be felled; The Tardigrade carries on.

Even though there is so much that binds us together.

It is easier to tell a story of how people wound one another than of what binds them together.

Anne Carson, from Plainwater: Essays and Poetry

Artist unknown, found on instagram uncredited.

Damn it!

Never gonna find that talking fish.

Get it together - via http://ift.tt/1MCkt3S

The force is with us.

Are you?

Here are some of the images I created for Topp’s new series of trading cards, Star Wars: Chrome Perspectives. It was a blast to make them, and I’m gratified that the folks who’ve seen them seem to dig them.

Everything is coming apart.

The world is tilting on multiple converging global crises.

The question is,

what would Bob Dobbs do?

The Band Scary Pockets performing a soulful iteration of Radiohead’s 1993 anti-anthem, “Creep” (On Youtube at https://youtu.be/tcNuPheBQgU)

Well that was incredible. The singer was just pouring out a heart rending, soulful rendition of Creep that would make your chest shudder.  Her possessed  driven voice was looking to smash right out of that room, like a gail force from massive unseen pipes.  She could turn from whisper to soaring then back.  

Meanwhile, the backing band  played a giddily infectious and genial vamp, like it just went right over their heads that Creep is a devastatingly sorrowful song–not melancholy, but acute anguish, bereaved loss as a freely gushing wound that doesn’t heal.But no, they carried entire duration  of the song–like it was jauntily amiable, laid back and with the purest kind of no-fucks-to-give, bounce in its gait.  For me, it recalled the sensation and storied feel of Herbie Hancock’s Fat Albert Rotunda, or the lope along good natured Linus and Lucy theme from countless Peanuts animated specials–which only added to the thick warm mallow feeling it stirred in me.  

Her voice railed with loneliness and loss.  It’s sonorous dolor filled the air enveloping the rhythm section, but instead of leaching the vitality out of them, it was like they just absorbed her energy for juice.  It cranked the mood coming off them from dopey laissez-faire to jubilation, the loping feel of the rhythm’s stride shifted subtly, rising in mood to a march. Then up from march to a joyous victory dance  without changing any tempo, dynamic, or orchestration, just like they appropriated the agony energy of her song and transformed it into an aural ecstasy  more suited to a dervish. 

********** 

More info on them, pasted from Youtube:

Subscribe: http://bit.ly/2IwGwQc

Official Website: https://scarypocketsfunk.com

Stories Channel: https://youtube.com/channel/UC-yUK_2H... 

Facebook: https://facebook.com/scarypockets

Instagram: https://instagram.com/scarypockets

Twitter: https://twitter.com/scarypockets

Bandcamp: https://scarypockets.bandcamp.com

Musicians Vocals: India Carney Bass: Sam Wilkes Drums: Lemar Carter Guitar: Ryan Lerman Wurlitzer: Jack Conte  (who you might recognise from Pomplamoose) Recording Engineer: Pete Min

My inner self checking in, during the middle of night when no one is around to hear.

My God, but if that wasn't the worst piece of advice I ever took--more than once, to boot, I can't imagine anything more ruinous, degrading, and irrevocably fatal for the soul.

Certainly if you must love anything or anyone, then do it while you are young and filled with foolish good nature and resilience. Spend both like a drunken sailor, because both wane no matter how you live your life.

Yes.

Eve Meyer

prude isnt a label like "dumbass" its a condemnation of any girl who doesnt act in alignment with the standard of beauty. wrap your head around it

no, it's not, you're just oversensitive to any criticism and somehow have been raised to feel you should never be criticized. You don't know how to be an adult and cope with the world, so you just run around making demands and declarations. Do you know who I hear making condemnations? People like you. All day long. If you can't be bothered to learn the language, you shouldn't speak. Prude is not a gendered word, it can be a relevant descriptor for anyone unduly nervous, inhibited and uncomfortable with sexual matters. Beauty, and the supposed standards you allude to are not relevant. See, so what happens is you walk around ranting about how unfair the world is and its oh just so mean, but no one even knows what you are saying because you can't be bothered to use words accurately--its another sick entitled expectation people today have, they think a word means whatever whim crosses their airy heads in that moment, and expect everyone to fall in line--and then they have the temerity to say that it is they who are being oppressed. There has never been a generation in history so coddled, so spoiled, so comforted with special privileges and extra care for your endless feelings about everything, and puritanical rules everywhere so you never have to be uncomfortable and what did it accomplish? Whiny narcissistic baby tyrants who can't be made satisfied, ever, and feel absolute entitlement to dictate to others. It is loathsome and repellant. And it isn't a healthy or productive way to live. It's people like you who are always telling people how they should behave, believe, talk. That's the fucking ideologically driven normative force I see in the world: not your oppressors, but you. A whole generation of personality disordered morality police with zero self accountability of their own. Who the fuck would want to listen to you? Enfant terrible. That's a term too, with a definition. G wrap your whiny head around a fucking dictionary and grow up.

Lest We Forget On Remembrance Day

Willie and Joe by Bill Mauldin

“You cannot make everyone think and feel as deeply as you do. This is your tragedy … because you understand them, and they do not understand you.”

— Daniel Saint

As renowned as the Blue Note Sleeves are, that cover from Impulse steals this show. It's a great album too. 🎼🎼🎶🎺 🎷 🎹🎶🎼🎼

There is so much great music in the world, but there is nothing like the worlds of music in jazz.

Smoking Jazz Smokers