Wednesday, September 03, 1997
4:08 PM

Electricity rips across my back
Lightning rods pierce my chest
Muscles twitch with tension
Fingertips explode in sensation then go numb
The base of my skull and the top of my spine no longer connected
A buffer of pure energy separates them
The accepted perception of reality releases it's grasp
Consciousness takes a fetal position and falls forward from the flesh
Observation of the world swirls
Eyes can no longer focus
Skin becomes warm from the heat of firing neurons
I can see beyond
I am awake
Transcending the limitations set by the world in which we live
This is the creative process in it's rawest form
A rebirth in understanding
Beyond anything a normal man could know
Born anew
The creation of a god

Today is a day to write
A day to create
The weather is right
A cool breeze
A dusky sky
The air holds me in a damp embrace

Much must be said
So much happening behind the eyes
Too much to convey
But I must try
Some based in reality
Others based in my own world
A world you can never know
But I will give you a taste
Scare you
Overwhelm you
Excite you

I start in reality
I start with Justin and River
Their words and images take me to another place
To see River on the screen sparks something within me
I am not attracted to him
I am inspired
I do not know why
I can only speculate that his soul is perceivable by his very existence
Or lack thereof
Justin's words do the same
A peek into a soul
A state of conciseness
The I Ching is a understanding shared by many I respect
Most recently Karl
A German philosopher
A tavern keep
A good drink and good talk have we shared many times
He opens him mind by helping you open yours
We talked in depth about throwing runes
The order of the universe
That which is chaos only because it is too great for us to perceive
Justin has seen this too
Justin has seen other things as well
He knows the words of Phillip K Dick
An author who awoke something in me as well
I am obsessed with him
I am obsessed with many things
PKD had an experience that changed his life
Best I can tell it was nine months before I was born
Valis was born then as well
A divine invasion has become a method to my madness
I hold great fear of exposing it
A catalyst is what I seek
So much that must be done
So I speak in vague verse to confuse those that would hamper the dream
For they could not understand
Justin also speaks of something else
As I read of his relationships I discover another shared trait
People close to him are hurt by his vision
A desire that he has no control over
A drive that comes from within and has no concern for the complexities of normal life
Only details compared to the holy destiny of the mind
People like us fill themselves with pain
We have no choice but to do what we must
To express
Nobody can relate to our individual passions
Again and again it will be our downfall
Emotions torn and broken in the wake
Hermits and eccentrics are our reclusive ends
I do not want this
Come together
As a unity we can change it all
A new age

Alek Traunic Countermeasure against everything

A new age
Those words strike fear in many hearts
We are a society of the comfortable and the apathetic
Change is an intimidating thing
Yet I am part of a generation without a voice of our own
The X'ers
Labeled by media and advertisers
We are categorized by a marketing ploy
We are smarter than that
The age of information is ours
We have pulled inspiration from everything in our past
The beats, the yippies, the hippies
We are aware
The time to act is upon us
We have no war to protest
No specific injustice to point our figures at as a battle cry
Things are much more blurred now
The true enemy
What we must defeat
Is the lack of concern for our world
We can not ignore hate
We can not overlook a dwindling of creativity and expression
So lazy have we become in our comfortable world
Surrounded by devices that we should exploit
Media is our tool not our enemy
But we must come together to take control of it
Individuals will make marks
A group will make change
A world must wake to realize the potential of humanity
The old ways have become outdated
Like reptiles we must shed that skin
Move forward with a hunger for knowledge and enlightenment
Pure expression comes from the soul
Souls lost to the numbing diet of the modern mind

I am thinking of other things today as well
Of the things that move me
Of aspects of life that I love
Of music and the amazing people that create in audio
David Bowie, Lou Reed, Thurston Moore
They are respected
There is one that shines above the others, whose creations I love
Not known to many
Chris Connelly is a hidden genius
Find his work
Seek it for yourself
Diversity has shone in his career
A master of his medium
He has inspired me greatly

Words are an art
And they in their function spawn another art
One which I enjoy tinkering with myself
The art of the letter
The art of type
The art of the fontographer
A great many houses or foundries exist
One artist has risen above the rest in my eyes
I feel guilty for not mentioning him before
Chank Diesel
A weirdo, and a phreak
I admire his style
To take type beyond the drab confines of tradition and make it new and alive
Crass and provocative
His sense of humor is rare
His talent even more so
I must thank him profusely for it is his work that I use in the logo for this very zine
Go to him
Buy fonts from him
Buy some for me

Today my chest pains me

Matters of the heart twist in the wind
Distance allows observance
Window shopping emotion
A judge can be impartial because he is not involved
Yet he would not pass judgment unless he was
These robes I wear do not protect me
I see those return to safety of the past to escape the uncertainty of the present
Time and again the crop this farmer sews withers and dies
To see the life giving sun return to fields of thorns
The safety in a desire obscures the pain of the truth
A worker builds the foundation of a home that will never be lived in
A spider builds a web to catch the butterfly
How long does the arachnid wait before moving on?
The prey comes so close but always manages to flutter away
Does the treasure held within the structure not hold enough beauty to entice?
Great monuments built in the past dot this landscape
Pyramids burn in the unforgiving sun
Amazing structures that in truth are only tombs
Chambers that house dead feelings
Like mindless drones emotions line up to walk into each new death
Prepared to don their tools to build a new a new temple
A place of conviction and worship
How long until it too becomes a tomb?
Filled with webs awaiting prey that may never come