Zombie Ninja Robots, an Autobiography

Another crappy emo poem

2008-07-04T07:58:00.000-07:00

Things you said

You said everything would be okay
said I'd be fine,
things work out
the universe provides
whatever the hell that means

And I believed you
because you said you loved me
So why would you lie?

You said "You'd better not leave me"
I said "I love you"
You said "really?"
and I said "Of course"
Because I was young and foolish
and that is my perennial mistake
falling in love

You said "You make me happy"
and your words enveloped me like
sweet perfume, caressing my soul
and filling me with a false sense of security
because you were my heart
and I would have walked through fire for you

You said "You're sweet"
but I could think
of nothing sweeter than your smile,
nothing that soothed like the fullness of your lips,
that stirred me like the feeling of your body pressed to mine

You said you were leaving
and then you walked out of the room
as I sat there in the darkness
left with the echo of your footsteps
and your words in my head

Resolutions

2007-06-07T10:11:00.000-07:00

Been awhile since I graced the internet with my wit.
Seems so empty without me, to quote that ever so
clever bon vivant Marshal Mathers, may he rest in peace.

Wrote this today. Actually, it sort of wrote itself.
Don't know if it's any good, don't really care, it's mine.

I'm calling it "Resolutions"

I want to be strong.
Stronger than death,
stronger than pain,
stronger most of all than this
stupid ache in the swell of my chest,
call it a heart, a soul,
call it whatever the f*ck you want,
it hurts like hell and it wont go away.

It's grey again today,
another day muted,
dulled meaning,
veiled sunshine.

I want it to glow.
I want the sun to burn,
burn away the clouds and shadows,
burn away impurity and leave only
the gold of our best days,
our shining moments

The day seems empty,
silent, dead
I want to scream
shatter the void of silence
with raw truth and beauty
with passion and things unsaid
but felt always

I want to carve a path before me,
of fire and light
leaving smoldering ashes in my footsteps
the ruins of a concrete mockery of existence
simulacrum of real life

I would spread fire with every movement
burning in my heart, shooting through my veins
sparking in hearts like dry leaves, kindling

We would see it reflected in the flames as they spread
We, a thousand foxes in a thousand fields, their tails ablaze

It would speak to us
in crackling whispers:
this is living
this is truth
this is love

Emo poems

2007-05-24T16:07:00.000-07:00

Hey, if anyone's still out there, hello again

I wrote these poems about a year ago to try to deal with some crappy pseudo relationship
stuff. Now seems like as good a time as any to post themThey're not very good, but whatever man, they were cathartic.
Feel free to mock them openly.

Ways not to let it show

Kill your heart, hide the pain, forget the tears you cry
There's nothing here but death for you, no matter what you try
For all your fiery passion, for all your pretty words
in the end you are a child to her, foolish and absurd
your passion and your poetry, your vision and your songs,
amounts to naught but wasted breath, and every note is wrong

You cling to your naïveté, your foolish thoughts of love
she thinks you speak of subjects you don't know the nature of

you lack an understanding, a knack for laissez faire
it's a badge of your adulthood, the art of meaningless affairs
She won't respect your feelings, she'll never taste your tears
your emotions are beyond her,they hold no meaning here

I think you want to play the victim, she was happy to oblige
certain lessons learned by bleeding can't be gathered otherwise
Do you feel a little wiser, with those bruises on your soul?
Or areyou history repeating, a losing battle with control?

Raise a glass to wasted sorrow, here's a toast to pointless tears
You start doubting your tomorrows, when you dwell in bygone years
Your decision is to focus on the good times that you had
You will put the past behind you, no more time for being sad

You may have learned a bitter lesson, hanging on to hard won truth
another chapter for reflection in the annals of your youth
Just don't let the past consume you when the present beckons now
You are bound for better things than grief and bitterness allow

It may be time to reevaluate leaving your heart out on your sleeve
your candor and sincerity will oft not be well received
The truth is honesty is simply not a virtue anymore
We traded up for games we play and hearts like bolted doors

But to steel yourself against the hurt would be difficult indeed
The feelings that you hide away could be the very ones you need
Be true to what you are inside, don’t ever lose your hope
You are a thousand possibilities on a million different roads

Words to live by

You're not being
very Mature
she said
and he was
left
standing there foolishly
heart in his hand
wondering what maturity
has to do with
the pain
he was feeling,
and how
it could ease it.

Don't tell me
what to feel
she said
I know what I want
and who I am
I don't want your advice
I don't need it
Her words
cut through him
like a knife
and left him
to question why
his own
feelings
seem somehow

secondary,

but hers

were
paramount.

His feelings
wont go away
his feelings
were the ones he had to live with
and at the end of the day
it was his feelings
that weighed him down
like bricks
when he felt like
this past year
all he'd been doing
was
treading water,
desperately trying
to keep from going
under
again,
struggling to
catch his breath
as his head sunk
under the waves
and he somehow
managed to
break the surface
again
and keep from drowning.

His feelings
were honest,
with no duplicity,

nothing

heldback

everything

laid out

on the table

take them
or
leave them.

She left them

they were of no use
to her
too simple
too pure
life is far
too
complicated
for
your
childish love.

She wanted to

be friends

she said

just
friends

and

then

she

kissed

him

and it was amazing,

a moment of
pure
magic
that changed him
awakening a part of him
that he'd thought
was dead
forever
that he may have
killed
himself
without
knowing it

It was
a moment
where
time
stood
still
and the only thing
that mattered

was her

she was his
whole world
in that instant
if he could have
he would have stayed
with her
forever

Then she moved on

she had
better
things
to do
than
waste time
with
little boys
or men
with
boys hearts

She had

responsibilities

a life
she had

all
mapped
out

in her head

a plan

and
he
didn't
fit

he was chaos
an uncertainty
that she
just wouldn't risk.

She knew
what
she
wanted,
and you

weren't
it
boy

Why couldn't you
just accept that?

why
can't
you
just

move on?

Why are you
crying on the bus

in front of strangers

like a fool

a fool
who loves

too much

feels
too deeply

out of place
in a world of cold steel
and disconnection
a little too alive.

Relax she said,
you're too intense
and he had tried,

he
really
had

but he was prone
to being swept up
in waves of emotion,
it was his blessing
and his curse.

There was
no salve for it
no balm
no matter
how hard
he tried to change it
it remained
a part of
him
he could
no more
deny it
than he could

stop breathing.

He wanted to be happy,
wanted to

be loved

It was
all
he wanted
really

to love others
and to
be loved
in return.

He had
allowed
himself
to think
he might
have found it
someone to love
someone who
would love him
in return

but

she did not

could not

and so he was

alone

again

left with nothing
but memories
and the bitter solace
of his own thoughts.

There was
no malice
in his heart
he still cared
for her
he wanted her to

be happy

to
be loved

even if
it meant
he would be

alone

He would have

given anything

for her

would have tried
to be

anything

she asked of
him

and that was
perhaps foolish
as well
because people should
love you
for who
you are
and he had been willing
to lose
himself
in her

in pursuit of
her love

Perhaps
she was right
all
along

they were
not meant to be
but this realization,

too little
too late

was of
no comfort

did nothing
to ease his sadness

It swept over him
in waves
bitter and yet
beautiful
like sweet music
at a funeral.

Three is the magic number
they say
third times the charm
a holy trinity of heartbreak
and this time
it finally did the trick.

The boy's heart
was not immune
and though it would
not allow itself to
cloud over
with bitterness
would not
succumb
to sadness
and despair
and become
cold

like the hearts of men
who long ago
forgot the joys
of their youth

the beauty in the everyday

it was not above
learning lessons

especially
the hard way

He would not
stop feeling
but he would

leave

turn away

and
not
look
back

he would not hide
from pain
it was the twin of joy
the two
seemed inseparable
but he certainly
would not seek it out.

He wished her well
he hoped
that she would

find
what
she
was
looking
for

be happy
and loved.

He would
never
forget
her

would

always cherish

what they had shared,
but time

moves
us
all
onward

and life has a funny way
of leaving us

behind

if we don't

keep
the
pace

He could no longer stay
with her
it only led to sadness,
he would
no longer
abide in sadness
would not
willingly
partake
in a game
where
he was

always the loser

He would
move on,

but
he would
take a part
of her
with him
always
hidden away
in that boys heart
protected from harm
his secret treasure.

Blog Resurrection

2007-05-18T15:44:00.000-07:00

Wow.

Been awhile since I posted anything up here. That's what happens when you have work

part-time, go to school full-time, and use all your free time to try to save the world.

Ah well, who needs a social life.

Course my recent discovery of Facebook hasn't helped at all.

Man that sucker's addicting.

At any rate since last I posted here true believers, much has transpired.(I used to think nobody read this thing, so right about now would be where I made some sort of snotty remark about my non existant audience, but apparently people do read this stuff, they just don't post anything. Bastards.) So much so, that in order to do the events justice, I would have to transcribe them in the medium of epic poetry, a la Milton.

Fortunately for you, I won't be doing that, i'll stick to regular, run of the mill, just the facts ma'm, expository prose. So withou further ado, here's the scoop:

First off, The Vanguard vernissage went freakin amazing. A bunch of people showed up, there was live painting, Marjorie, my teacher and the Graphic Design department head, gave a speech (quite a good one I might add, very eloquent). It was great, the art looked amazing. I still can't believe we pulled it off.

Second the book finally got printed. It's really real, an actual physical object taking up space in the third dimension, with weight and volume and everything. Not to toot our own horns, but other than some minor typos (we'll be printing a second run with corrections) and a few other snaffu's, it looks fantastic. Everyone we've shown it to has been very impressed.

The night of the book launch was also quite awesome. There were performances by spoken word artists and musicians, and they we're incredible. This one dude Stephen Thomas was just insane, he was a "slam" poet, and his stuff was so great, he performed it with passion, emphatically, it was really moving. It was like beat poetry or jazz without music, there was a weight to it, it felt like every word was a revelation or a heartfelt confession. My explanations just can't do it justice, you'd have to see him for yourself.

Other than that, there were some small tragedies in my personal and romantic life, nothing soul destroying, but definitely not pleasant.

News from Vanguard

2007-03-27T17:26:00.000-07:00

Hello all, hope you are doing well.

I bring news from the underground. Vanguard had it's first two projects, and they were not spectacular failures, despite our best efforts. First up was the print sale. We managed to raise $160 bucks! Pretty good for an upstart group of "bleeding hearts" activists. I had a blast, had some great conversations, and met some great people. After that triumphant showing, we bravely set off on our next undertaking, ignoring the warnings of our peers and all common sense. This project was intended to promote, of all ridiculous things, sustainability and environmental concerns. Originally slated as a group project, to take place during the lead up days of the conference put on by Youth Action Montreal (the one with Al Gore and David Suzuki as keynote speakers), it was forestalled by the first two days of the conference being canceled, due to low registration (they were apparently charging $15o. Go figure)

Undaunted, our intrepid protagonists soldiered on, contacting Youth Action and R4 at Concordia, and proposing that, since most of the legwork was done already, why not take advantage of said work by incorporating it into your advertising campaigns? R4 agreed, and the posters were adopted. The original plan, was to have posters promoting sustainability, using all recycled and recyclable materials. These were to be done using stencils (cut by us), which would then be turned by workshop attendees into posters.

Since there was longer any workshops, and therefore no attendees, we did the posters ourselves. I printed 13 by hand, after having received a fair (great) amount of help cutting the stencils and gathering the materials and research. They were all printed on cardboard, cut from boxes that we rescued from the garbage's of local businesses (with permission of course). Each one was different, and each one was unique. I will take pictures of the posters and post them up here as soon as I've a chance to take them.

The posters by the way, will be used to promote a %1 increase in tuition costs, in order to introduce sustainability programs on campus, such as recyclable materials being used in the school cafeterias and stores etc. Madness I know. It is our intention to bring this same insanity to Dawson, as it seems to us like a pretty fun thing to try to do. You know for a laugh.

Other than that, we are hard at work plotting our insidious Vernissage and Book Launch, which will hitherto be referred to as "the incidents". We are shooting for the 25th of April at the club Les Minots, so if any friends, family or kindred spirits are interested in attending, don't bother, we don't want you there anyway. But if you must come, contact me for more details. Don't bother phoning, I don't actually go home anymore. E-mail is the best method for communication, although I can't guarantee that avenue will bring you any more success either. If any one's interested, we can also put you on the mailing list, if we must. Or you can check out our blog www.vanguardcoalition.blogspot.com, you know, if you have time to waste.

Cheers,

Matt X

P.S: Big love to my friends and family, you know who you are.

Meaning in Coincidence

2007-03-16T23:19:00.000-07:00

It's funny, today I was having one of those deep metaphysical debates. I was saying how I felt like the things we do matter because everything is connected, and that otherwise, if everything is relative and arbitrary, then nothing we do matters.

Then on my way home as I was waiting for the bus, this guy comes up to me and asks if I know where the Hotel Du Fort is. He's slurring his wrods (heh visual pun), his eyes are bloodshot, and his breath smells of alcohol. I tell him I'm sorry, I don't know where it is. He asks me for a cigarette, I say I don't smoke. He says thanks anyways, and he goes to walk off. I stop him, ask him if he's okay.

He tells me he's from Boston, and that he was out drinking, got separated from his friends, and is lost. He's trying to find his hotel. He's obviously drunk, and is not wearing a jacket, even though it's snowing pretty hard. I don't want him to walk off, I'm afraid to let him go. I try to get him a cab, but he won't take my money. Finally, I turn to the person next to me in line, and ask if they know where the hotel is. They point me in the general direction, say it's 4 blocks away.

So I tell the guy, look I'll walk you there. He says no, but I insist. I'm afraid if I don't, he's gonna walk into traffic. So I walk about 3 blocks, and I'm a little worried myself, cuz I have no idea where this hotel is either, and I'm not sure if the person who gave me directions was just trying to get rid of us.

So I stop and ask directions again. The guys I ask tells me it's just a little bit further, then take a left. So we keep walking, at this point I'm asking this guy a few questions to pass the time. Turns out he came down here with friends from Boston, Massachusetts for his Spring break, cuz the drinking age here is lower. They went to Dundees, then to some strip clubs, and somewhere along the way, he got shitfaced, and something happened that separated him from his friends.

He tells me all this, surprisingly coherent despite slurring his words and apologes profusely,
thanking me for helping him out. I tell him it's no big deal, and I mean it, how could anyone let someone just walk off in that condition?

As we're walking, he almost walks into the street a few times, and I have to watch him carefully. Anyways, eventually we find the hotel, I tell the attendant at the desk what happened, wait to make sure he gets up to his room, then tell him to be careful next time, and go on my way.

So why did I tell you this story? Because I'm trying to say how great I am? No, I don't think I'm any better than anybody else, and I hope, that most people would do the same if they were in a similar situation.

So what's my point? Just this: let's say things don't happen for a reason, don't you find it just a little weird, that right after I finish having a conversation about helping other people, why I believe in God, and everything happening for a reason, I just happen to arrive at the bus stop just as this guy is walking towards that corner.

Now it's possible that somebody else would have stopped to help this dude, but then again it's the big city, and plenty of things don't get done that should. My friend was knocked down and hurt quite badly, to the point where she had to wear crutches, by people rushing from one metro to the next. After they knocked her down and basically trampled her, nobody even stopped to see if she was okay.

So yeah it's possible no one would have helped this guy if I hadn't been there, and maybe someone would have, who knows. What I'm saying is, isn't just a little weird that one of the few people who would feel compelled to help him, happened by right when he was passing where I catch the bus? If i'd left the school earlier, (I usually do, I catch the 10:30 bus or the 11:00) I probably would have missed him, but this time I ended up staying a little later, something I never usually do, and happened by just as he was exactly where I catch my bus. By being there at that time, I got to share in that moment, and he was potentially kept from harms way.

I'm sure people will tell you that you can read meaning into whatever you want, and
that coincidences are bound to happen eventually, but I've seen too much stuff like this, too often, stuff that just seems too ordered, too systematic, to not be part of a greater plan. At this point, it would take more faith and rationalization for me not to believe in this explanation than it would to accept the posibility that maybe there's more to life than just a random series of meaningless events.

Now I'm not trying to say either, that only someone who believes the same way I do would have helped this guy, nor do I think what I did was so great. To me it was the only choice I could make. But I know plenty of people who are athiests or agnostics who would have done the same. My point isn't that you need God to be compassionate (although I definitely think feeling a connection to your spiritual nature, a connection to God can help, otherwise why would I believe in it?). My point is, that to me this sort of thing shows evidence of a compassion based universe, where everyone matters, everyone is connected, and even seemingly random and insignificant occurences in our day to day lives are part of an infinitely complex tapestry of causality and design.

Matt X

One gun added on to the one gun...

2007-03-11T13:37:00.000-07:00

Hello out there, whoever might be reading this!

Thought I'd post another Vanguard Piece.

This one's a three part piece (triptych, in art speak),
about gun control. I should have the next two pieces up
eventually...

Hope everyone's doing good out there.

Big love to my friends and family, Rena, Chris, Mandy, Joey,
Mom and Dad. Sorry I haven't been so great at the correspondence.
Thinks have been a little crazy in Matt X land. Hope to talk to you all
soon.

Matt X

2007-03-11T09:46:00.000-07:00

I'll update this site once a year if it needs it or not

2007-02-24T19:55:00.000-08:00

This is a design that Jason (the guy in my program who first came up with the idea to start Vanguard, before it was called Vanguard) and I came up with and worked on together. It was originally done as a Valentine's day cover for the horrible tawdry rag that passes for a school paper at Dawson, the Plant. The idea was to do a take on the pejorative "Bleeding Heart" as in "Bleeding Heart liberal", or "Bleeding Heart Activist". Basically, we wanted to do something that was a reclamation of that term, as if to say "Yes we are bleeding hearts, we care about what's going on in the world around us, and we can't ignore it anymore" This is my first collaborative artwork. Jay took the picture, which we staged together, then I drew the clothes, scanned them into the computer and super imposed them onto the photo's using photoshop. While I was doing that, Jay was using red ink to make blood patterns, which we then scanned in to the computer and applied to the figures. Then I chose the type, and put the finishing touches on the background ect. I think it turned out rather well. The plant of course, did not end up using it, given that it could be somewhat controversial, given the shootings that happened here. I somewhat respect their decision, despite my feelings that it's important to move on, I don't want to be a source of potential pain or trauma for anyone. Still, I would be more sympathetic to their position, if they hadn't printed an article in the very same issue that talks about the video game Super Columbine Massacre. I suppose freedom of the press, and freedom of speech are subjective. At any rate, I am still quite proud of the work we came up with, it's a departure for me somewhat, as I tend to rely more on computer generated imagery for my designs, rather than on my handskills. I'm starting to try to incorporate hand drawn images more and more. Let me know what you guys think.

Ronald is Evil

2007-01-28T22:29:00.000-08:00

Hey, here's another Vanguard poster by yours truly.
Let me know what you think, honestly. I'm still getting
the hang of this whole Illustrator thing, so if you see anything
that you think needs tweaking feel free to lemme know.

Matt X

I'll have more up soon, but I wanna finalize the other
poster's first.

Vanguard Progress

2007-01-05T11:38:00.000-08:00

Hey there.

Below is the first completed work by me
for Vanguard. I have a few others in the
works, i'll post them as soon as they're
finished. We should have at least 3 works
finished each by next Wed.
I'll post more works as they are
completed.

Sincerely,

Matt X

P.S. : In case you were wondering, the black around the image edge
is not part of the design, but rather an unfortunate side effect
of switching from pdf to png format.

Think for Yourself

2007-01-05T11:04:00.000-08:00

Po-Mo(em)

2007-01-01T22:19:00.000-08:00

Hello.

Here is a poem for your
listening pleasure.
Enjoy or die!

Buyer Beware

Plastic and concrete walls of reinforced
irony, the enclaves of public privacy,
isolation in sporadically dispersed gatherings,
form over content. content to buy and sell
no longer products nor even ideas but identity.

Noen sheen, fluorescent hum of mediocre
mantras, devoid of substance, quality is quantity
less and less is more and more
Did we even notice when we were plugged in,
fuel for the engine, walking advertisements,
company placeholders, filling seats in the
theatre of industry
The (industrial) revolution will be televised,
marketed and given a soundtrack.
Freedom of choice is a matter of brand loyalty
Freedom of speech in 30 second intervals.

It's a slow entropy, a pervasive cancer
of barcodes and sales flyers
image replaces meaning
products for living
became life as product

We sold our dignity
traded our self control for store credit,
our outrage for "outrageously low prices!"

Can we turn back now, on the brink
of losing the last shred of humanity not yet
attached to a logo? Armageddon brought to you
by Coke, Genocide sponsored by Nike,
Planetary Extinction a Time/Warner production.

The space between (don't sue me Dave Matthews)

2006-12-14T13:42:00.000-08:00

Hello all.

It's official, i've finsihed my semester in one piece.
It got a little hairy there a few times, but here I am.
That was offcially the worst semester ever. My grades
should be fine, but man it was like every conceivable
thing that could go wrong, did. That being said, there
is much to report. First off, I am sans emploi once again,
mainly due to Pharmaprix ending up being possibly the
worst possible fit for my studies imaginable, short of
working graveyard shift at a Telemarketing firm that
deals exclusively with people suffering from tourrette's syndrome.
I had basically two choices: stay there and fail my semester, or quit
and survive the end of term with a good deal more stable mental health.
I opted for option two.

Be that as it may, I've spoken with the good folks at student services,
as well as with the person in charge of hiring for P.A.R.C, the
recreation centre/gym on campus. While not a certainty, there is
at least a better than average chance that I might be able to find
gainful employment with the school. That would be ideal, since they
pay quite a bit more than most part-time jobs (10-15 dollars an hour
depending on the job) and they are flexible with students schedules,
which has been the main problem with off campus jobs as of late.

I also recently had an interview at Cardex, a customer service/technical
support place that sells interac machines to small and medium businesses.
My friend of many years Mike AUlis got me the interview, the only downside
being that they would want me to work 3-4 (most probably 4) shifts a week
min, which is most likely too much for me to handle with school. I told them
I would see how it goes, being upfront about the possible conflict, it's
possible I may hear back from them shortly, although I've a feeling this
disclosure may have hurt my chances.

More importantly, (to the greater scheme of things anyway, not that financial
independence and well being is not a pressing concern) I think I may have finally
found an outlet for my feelings of angst and disillusionment with regards to the
current and ongoing state of world affairs. Myself and two other graphic design
students have decided to try to use our creative and artistic ability for something
other than promoting corporate interests and/or consumerism.

Since I'm lazy, i'll give you the gist of it via a description I wrote in a
recent e-mail.

Some of my friends in the program, kindred spirits so to speak,
have decided to start a sort of graphic design with a purpose
club. That is to say, an opportunity to use art to raise social
conciousness, for artists to express themselves, to subvert
the status quo, and to just have fun without the constraints
of a real or imagined clientele, predefined structure, or the
taint of consumerism. I know, i know it sounds preachy
and naive, but I rather like the idea. Given that a major
portion of my faith is, as I always understood it anyway,
about rebellion against the corrupting forces in society,
about helping the weak, feeding the hungry, clothing the
poor etc. (for referrence, see a dude named Jesus. He
had a beard, probably did not look anything like James
Caviezel, and was in the habit of healing people and
being accepting and forgiving) I never really been able
to understand how society as a whole (including a lot Christians
unfortunately) seems to be okay with turning a blind eye
to the horrible conditions that are the direct result of
the comforts we enjoy on a daily basis. (for refference,
see where all our clothes and toasters come from, and
who made them)

Anyway, I'm not trying to come off all self-righteous here,
I'm just as guilty by proxy as anyone, which is why
I want to try to make a difference. I'm not sure if I can
do that through my art, but if I can, I want to.
For me, this whole thing came at just the right time,
I was really feeling defeated and discouraged as to
what i could do to help anyone really (other than pray),
but feeling like I should try. This might not be the
miracle answer or anything, but I feel like it's a start.

So yeah that's the basic idea. To that end we've applied for club status
with the D.S.U., gotten over fifty signatures from people interested in
participating, and started to meet frequently to discuss the nature
of this endeavour, where we go from here, and the works we 3 founding
members will contribute. We're planning on having "gallery showings"
(using the dawson gallery), putting up posters, handing out flyers,
and possibly even printing T-shirts and other merchandise we would
sell to raise money for charities, like amnesty international or Unicef.
We would also like to put together a website, and compile the submissions
we recieve into a final printed book. We're not entirely sure of all the logistics
yet, but we come up with some general guidelines, a plan of action, and
mission statement. Seeing as how we will most probably all be fairly busy
during the actual semester, we plan on each of the founding members
having a min of 5 pieces ready for the beginning of next semester.
It's a big undertaking, but it good end up being something really cool,
and if nothing else, at least we tried to do something about the
things that we're on our hearts and minds. We have no illusions
of revolutionary grandeur, but we all were just really tired of sitting
back and watching things happen. Maybe nothing will come of it,
who knows, but I really feel like this is something I need to do.

The name of our club/organization (if this ever moves beyond
Dawson) is Vanguard, Which stands for
Visual Artists Nurturing Greater Awareness and Understanding
through Responsible Design.

Submission is open to anyone from any of the art's disciplines,
Dawson student or not. We will review works submitted, but the
only criterion under which we might refuse a work is if we
feel it promotes violence, prejudice or hatred. We are also
attempting to stay non-partisan, which is to say we are looking
to raise awareness of social issues and the responsibilities of
government and society as a whole to uphold social justice and
human rights, we are not looking to attack or promote any one
group or political agenda.

So yeah, that's what's going on with me. I'll hopefully
have news of our progress as this thing unfolds.

Other than that, not much new with me. I did some pretty
amazing stuff in school this semester, stuff I didn't think
I was capable of, that I'm pretty happy with. I'll try to post
that up soon. I also have a few more poems to upload,
but that's gonna hafta wait till another day, all this typing
is making me sleepy.

To all my friends and family who may be reading this,
i wish you the best, you are in my thoughts and prayers.
I hope to see most of you soon, until then, much love,
and peace on earth goodwill towards men etc.

Sincerely,

Matt X

Burning heart, burning mind, burning up, burning out

2006-11-15T20:24:00.000-08:00

I would set the world on fire
If it could save us from ourselves
I would bury all the liars
If I thought you'd see the truth
We are living for machines
We are products on a shelf
There's no end behind the means
Just a resource we abuse

I would tear down all these walls
If we could build a better world
When the empire finally falls
Will we be buried in debris?
When a system's built on blood
Staining the flags that we've unfurled
Does that not change the value of
Our great so-called democracy?

I would give up all these words
If I could find some that are true
So far all the things I've heard
do no justice to my heart
All the meanings have been lost
like the fervour of our youth
signed away, the hidden cost
inked in blood on your punch card

I would leave and not look back
if we could find a place for us
we could forget about the past
and build a future of our own
Would we make the same mistakes?
Decayed by rot of power and lust
Would we dig anew our graves?
Is that the curse of flesh and bone?

Still i can't help but believe
in my foolish love and peace
I'll die hopelessly naive
as I cling madly to ideals
Even if it burns me up
the flame of passion will not cease
until the spark of life is snuffed
and my final fate revealed

Despair

2006-11-06T20:38:00.000-08:00

This is another drawing I did around the same time.
Not sure what the obsession with punks is, oh well.
Anyway, I had an idea for a series of paintings,
seven banes, and seven boons. They would all be
watercolour, small prolly 6x4. The idea was
to illustrate all the good things about/related
to humanity, and all the bad things (well categories
anyways.) So the boons would be like, faith, hope, love,
peace, joy, wisdom, and justice let's say. And then
conversely, the banes would be like death, despair,
greed, apathty, hate, ignorance and like, I dunno,
telemarketing. No er, maybe selfishness? I'm not sure.

Anyway, this sketch is sort of a (very rough) planning
sketch of how that painting (despair) would look.
Of course the guy in the painting prolly wouldn't
be a punk, and he wouldn't have like the physique
of a powerlifter, but hey i was bored on the bus okay?

Anyway, I have no idea when this alledged project
will be finished/started, but I'm writing it down
here in the hopes that maybe you people will
keep me honest, and like ask me when I'm gonna
get of my ass and paint. Course, the problem isn't
so much that I'm sitting on my ass, but rather that
I don't have any time to sit down and do anything
really, while I'm in school. Maybe bother me about
it around Christmas break.

Alright, much love

Matt X

Eco-fiendly

2006-11-04T22:40:00.000-08:00

Hey. Haven't written any new poems in awhile.
Thought I'd try freestyling it in here.
Here goes nothing:

We were the forgers of destiny
Better living through chemistry
building a future a better tomorrow
We were the leaders that everyone followed
We knew the answers to all of life's questions
We never stopped to ask for directions
Perfect Utopia danced in our heads
We never questioned a pipe made of lead
Or asbestos pajamas, cans of hairspray
toxic emissions from cars that we made
We kept on spraying that DDT
And building up nuclear energy
Clear cutting forests so we could have lumber
melting the ice caps just means longer summers
Pumping the water with industrial waste
carcinogenics are an acquired taste
We thought the good times would never end
Till we suddenly realized we couldn't pretend
There wasn't a problem, but it was too late
Ego and apathy had sealed our fate
We used up the planet with reckless abandon
And left ourselves no moral ground to stand on
So if any one's reading this, if anyone's left
We're sorry for leaving things such a mess

Punk You

2006-10-30T08:40:00.000-08:00

Here's a little sketch I did sans refference
in my little portable sketchbook, while
waiting for the bus. He's an angry punk.
It might be a little bit self portrait.
Sort of a reaction to everything this
past semester. Enjoy. Gonna try to digitally
paint it when I get the time (translation,
never)

Moving on

2006-09-30T19:16:00.000-07:00

Well it's been about three weeks since I was on the news.
I never thought my fifteen minutes would be as fleeing
student number 3. It was weird watching myself run by.
I need to lose some weight.

I wanted to post stuff here for awhile, but I couldn't.
I kept thinking of what I was gonna say, but mostly I
was just really angry, and it started sounding a lot
like a "F*ck you" list. Like I was gonna talk about
Steven Harper and the NRA, ect, but you know what?
F*ck it. They don't deserve any more space.

It seems like other than the girl Anastasia,
the other victims are okay. Even the guy who was
in the coma seems to be doing better, which is
a relief, I was praying for him, and for everyone
else to be okay. It's not something I ever thought
I'd be thinking about. Lately, it seems like I
just can't seem to get away from guns and violence.
A week before all this stuff, there was a shooting
(another one) here on walkley between gang members.

I'm so sick of guns. I'm working on a T-shirt right
now that says "Guns are for cowards". I wanna make
sure I get it right tho. I want it to be really
well designed.

It's been hard getting back into the swing of
things. Honestly, I feel a little lost this
semester. Sometimes I feel like I'm not good
enough, like I'm a fake who'll eventually be
exposed as a no talent hack. There always
seems to be that little voice in my head
that tries to tell me I'm not good enough.
I try not to listen to him, he's an @sshole.
I guess part of it comes from looking
at other people's stuff and comparing it
to my own. I wanna be the best in my
program, sometimes I get discouraged
by looking at how far along other ppl
are. Sometimes that spurs me on, makes
me strive to improve, other times
it just discourages me. At any rate,
I don't plan on giving up at this point.
I will be the best, or at the very least
my best, and I'll keep getting better.
I've managed to cut out video games
almost entirely, now i just got to
make the most out of the rest of my time.

So yeah, it's kind of been a rocky start
to the semester. First some heavy news
from a friend. Then I lose my job.
Then my school becomes international
news, and not in the way anyone ever hopes.
(except for maybe reporters. By the way,
pretty much all the reporters who covered
the whole Dawson thing make my FU list
as well. F*ckin blood sucking vultures)

But hey, it could have been much worse.
I could have been there man. I almost was.
So yeah, I'm alive. I'm not going to waste
any more time. As far as work goes, there
are other jobs. In fact, there's a good
chance I already have a new one (I went to
an interview to work in the photolab at
pharmaprix DT, it went quite well)
As for school, I'm going to do my best,
and keep pushing myself.

Life goes on. It's not blase, that's just
how it goes. Sometimes horrible sh#t goes down,
but you just gotta keep on moving forward.
At least I still can.

I put some flowers on the memorial BTW.
I never knew Anastasia, she didn't even
look like the type of person I would
hang out with necessarily. But she was
a fellow human being trying to find her way,
fragile, flawed and vulnerable, beautiful
like all of us. I wish her well in the next
life, and I pray for her family.

The thing that bothers me about all of this
the most, is that after the fact, there
where reports of all these copy cats,
who were supposedly trying to do
the same thing as that stupid misguided
@sshole. Why? What is wrong with people?
Why would anyone want to kill someone else?
I just don't understand. Yeah I was tormented
in highschool and elementary. Yeah I had almost
no friends. Hell, I even had a chemical
imbalance. But even amongst all the
craziness, I never once thought of killing
anybody, other than myself. And I even thought
at one point that I was the antichrist.
So why do some people end up doing stuff
like this and some don't, in almost the
same circumstances?

Why are people doing this? Where are they
getting guns? Thankfully, they were stupid
enough to mention their plans to other
people, so no one else got hurt, but what
the hell? I just don't get it.

Also, why do people feel the need
to ostracize and torment the outsider
types? Maybe it's just me, but if people
would just be a little nicer to the
"losers" maybe this kinda sh*t woudln't
happen. How hard is that to do?

That's all I gotta say about all of this.
Honestly, I just wanna forget about it
and move on. Not like "oh that never happened"
But just have things get back to normal.
There's a gun control coalition starting on campus.
They posted a poster about wanting designers.
I'm thinking of getting involved if I have enough
time between school and my possible new job.

Well that's it. I also entered my poetry
in a contest with CBC radio. 1st prize is
6000, 2nd prize is 4000. I doubt I'll win
but it's worth a shot. I'll keep you posted.

I'm gonna post some more sketches and stuff
soon. Thanks for sending along
that link about the Band logo Joey.
I just might give it a shot
And yes chris, I'm gonna post some
design stuff too, just for you :)

Take it easy,

Matt X

Only In Dreams (Part 2 !!!)

2006-08-25T20:05:00.000-07:00

So yeah, where was I? Oh yeah. So I was now being pursued by
a newly awakened ancient evil entity, who was essentially sentient
sand. I was ducking down hallways, running full tilt, trying to
shake my supernatural pursuer. It's pretty hard to run away from a guy
whose made of sand though, especially when said pursuer is
seemingly ubiquitous, and part of the very fabric of the castle/hotel
itslef. I would be running down a hallway, and a giant sand hand would
reach out of the wall and try and grab me. Or I'd reach a stairwell,
only to have it blocked off by a wall of living sand. Finally, I
was running, and a giant tidal wave of sand was following after me,
gaining on me. I ended up getting swept up in the wave of sand, which
formed into a hand around me, and was starting to tighten it's grip.
It was crushing me, and I started to lose consciousness.
The background started to fade and swirl. I closed my eyes.

I couldn't breathe. Just when I was ready to give up the ghost,
I heard a voice in my head. It was telling me that I was the incarnation
of an ancient being of living water/ice, the eternal nemesis of the sand
creature. Apparently we had fought for millennia, but had been dormant for hundreds of years after our last battle had finished at a stalemate. We had both been drained, and had needed to rest to recuperate our respective strengths. Or so I imagine, I don't actually remember much of this part of the dream, only that I changed somehow into this Ice/water being. I'm filling the rest of the blanks for story sake. Cut me some slack will ya? Call it literary license.

Anyway, I changed into this huge entity made of living ice/water, and we started fighting. We we're no longer in the hotel, but rather in some sort of transdimensional swirling nebulous vortex outside of time and space, which I imagine is where beings made of living ice/water or sand go to settle their differences. So anyway, we're in this ethereal plane duking it out. I'd throw hailstorms and blizzards at him, shoot out jetstreams of water, hurl huge icicles, ect. He'd send sandstorms my way, hurl large clumps of earth, pummel me with rock hard fists of sand. We seemed pretty evenly matched, neither one of us overpowering the other, only managing glancing blows, defending against the brunt of each others salvos.

And then just when it seemed the battle would end in another
inevitable stalemate, that's when...I woke up.

What? I told you, it's a dream.
They're not necessarily geared towards resolution.
They are in fact, often anticlimactic.
What? You want me to make up an ending?
Man, you people are demanding. Fine.

Where was I? Oh yeah. So just when it seemed like the battle would rage on for another millennia, neither side a clear victor, I hit upon a plan. I filled the air around us with mist. "You think mere steam will stop me!? Enough of your ploys! Have at you!" My opponent bellowed. We renewed fighting, once again trading blows, neither one of us besting the other. But, as the battle raged on, slowly my enemy became more sluggish, his movements more telegraphed. Finally, I managed a crushing blow, smashing my adversary with a glacier sized chunk of ice I wielded as a club. Defeated, he lay before me, his fury abated.

"How did you do it?" He demanded, "Whenever we fought before,
our battles always ended in a bitter standstill!
How have you bested me now?"

"Simple." I replied. "As we fought, I filled the air with moisture.
You didn't notice the effect at first, but as time went on, the sand
that comprises your body began to clump and become clay and mud.
After a prolonged battle, your body was constricted and therefore
I was able to easily outmatch you."

"I shall have my revenge! I will feast on your heart and rip your soul asunder!"

"Yes, yes." And with that I that I scattered his body to the great desserts of the earth. And there he resides to this day. Being rather a poor sport, he still causes the occasional sandstorm from time to time, but mostly he occupies himself designing sand dunes, and making cactus floral arrangements.

With balance once again restored, I set my sights on the worlds famine
stricken lands, sending rain and water to areas in dire need, ensuring
crops for those who had once had none. But I left the desert lands alone
(with the exception of the inhabited cities) out of respect for my fallen foe.

Or, if that ending is to sappy for you, being the fatalist that you are, try this one:

So just when it seemed like the battle would rage on for another millennia, neither side a clear victor, I started to feel weak. The longer he fought, the weaker I began to feel, despite managing to block the brunt of my attackers blows, and fending off or dodging the majority of his onslaught.

"Feeling tired?" He mocked, "Or are you merely standing in awe of my glory?" He laughed contemptuously. We renewed fighting, but I found it harder and harder to evade or defend against his attacks. Then, when I could defend no more, I began to receive blow after punishing blow. I was finally felled by a two fisted uppercut of sand. My opponent stood over me gloating. "At last, after so many battles, I have finally defeated you, my hated foe!", he bellowed. "No doubt, you are wondering why you felt so drained?" He grinned fiendishly, "Sand absorbs moisture like a sponge! The clouds of sand I generated as we fought have been steadily draining you of the water from which you draw your power!"

He reached down and grabbed me by the throat. He drove his hand deep
into my chest, pulling out my ice heart, glittering like a diamond.
Then he crushed it in his massive hand, and drank the water that
poured out. Then he ripped me into tiny pieces, like little snow crystals.

"And now away with you, accursed blight!" Then he threw the crystals
into the world's great seas, where they drifted in the currents,
some reaching the ice floes and glaciers. My only companions became
the flocks of penguins and the stalking polar bears.

Then, unopposed, the great sand creature ravaged the earth, turning all the land into vast inhospitable deserts . But he left the sea and ice untouched, perhaps out of respect for his fallen foe, but more likely out of fear that he might reawaken him.

How's that? You don't like it you can bloody well write your own ending.

Luther

2006-08-12T07:52:00.000-07:00

Hello. This is a character i designed, completely from
imagination, sans refference. His name,
(for lack of being able to think of a better one,
I'm open to suggestions.) is Luther.This dude is
supposed to be a rasta warrior, he has these huge
fist-glove things he uses as a weapon.
They weigh 100 pounds each, but they amplify
his strenghth 20 times over. He comes from
a cyberpunk future, where the internet has become
a means of transferring ones conciousness into
virtual reality, and hackers are the pirates,
warriors and knights of the new information age,
constantly fighting back against corporate rule
by the mega-military-industrial-conglomerates that
have long since usurped government. He is both a
top level hacker, a brilliant inventor/mechanic,
a competent pilot, and if necessary, a fierce warrior,
although he is an avowed pacifist, and tries to avoid
conflict whenever he can, which, unfortunately, proves
almost impossible in the times he lives in. Despite this,
he constantly tries to spare human life, seeing it as
precious. He is also a family man, and will forget
any thoughts of non-violence should the lives of his loved
ones be threatened, protecting them with the ferocity of
a grizzly. He is chief mechanic and pilot of the merchant
vessel/commune the Iron Lion. His friends know him as
a gentle giant and a poet, soft spoken and wise. His enemies
know him as and unstoppable force and a proud warrior.

heh. That all comes of kinda cornball huh? oh well.
I just made it up on the fly. I might turn it into a story,
and eventually a graphic novel. Who knows. Anyway here's the pic,
bear in mind this is the rough sketch, it needs to be painted
and he has no eyes at the moment, mainly because they weren't
turning out how I liked. I'll prolly cheat and do a shining eye
effect. It'll make him look tougher anyways. I'm not
terribly happy with the way the face turned out overall,
I'll probably redo it. The head's okey, but the eyes,
nose mouth seem off. I was trying to make him not look like
a white guy with brown skin, which is how most white artists
used to end up drawing anyone who wasn't white, unless of
course they were doing horrible racist caricatures. I was
going for authenticity, and trying to avoid both of the
aforementioned scenarios, but bear in mind that I was drawing
sans refference. The face is the part of the drawing in the least
happy with.

This is prolly my first real attempt at doing a painting of
somebody with darker skin tone, hopefully I don't mess it up.

I"m sure you guys will let me no if I do. ;)

Only in Dreams

2006-07-29T08:40:00.000-07:00

Hello. I thought I'd share a dream I had.
It was fairly bizarre, so this is as much an exercise
in catharsis as it is mere exposition.
To put it simply, I just had to tell somebody.

I can imagine the information I'm about to convey
being presented as exhibit in some sort of tribunal
concerning my societal deviancy and over indulgence
in comic books video games and horror movies.

At any rate here goes:

I don't remember exactly how this dream starts
but I remember a market. This market seemed to take place
in an environment which can best be described as a cross between
a massive many tiered shopping mall, and some sort of open air
(if that's possible indoors) fair or festival midway.
It was sort of like a flea market, with very unsafe looking
piles of various goods everywhere you looked, stacked
mountainously high,like yardsale skyscrapers.
There were also little food stands, not the sort of kiosks
you see in the food court, but the sort of makeshift portable
ones often set up at small amusement parks or concert events.
Of note, (to my subconscious mind anyway) was a pile
of old comic books that might've been encyclopedic in it's scope.
Although the word pile does not quite do it justice.
It was to comic piles, what Mount Everest is to rock formations.

I had been (for some reason or another, that had seemed
quite clear and perfectly rational as far as dream logic goes,
but as is often the case with dreams upon waking, since evades me)
following around a young girl and her mother, who seemed to be
enjoying the opportunity for a shopping expedition,
and were making a day of it. I say I was following them,
but a more accurate statement may be that I was walking
in the same general direction as they were, whilst
attempting to avoid detection by the mall(or festival?) security.

I'm not certain as to why the rent-a-cops in question where
after me in the first place, but if I had to hazard a guess,
I'd imagine it had something to do with similar behaviour to
that which I was exhibiting in trying to elude them.
Said behaviour involved ducking behind store displays,
running at high speeds, and clambering over counter tops
and escalators. At one point, I remembering scaling the
copious mounds of comic books, like some sort of mountaineer,
bounding from pile to pile, and then jumping onto other
hard to reach places using the 4 colour cliffs as a launch pad.
Not entirely sure what those hard to reach places where exactly,
although at some point I recall impossibly tall filing cabinets.

At any rate, if my actions in pursuing my escape route are any
indication as to my disposition in general, it's no surprise
I was brought to the attention of store personnel. I tend to
think they frown on that sort of thing, even in dreams
(where I imagine the rules tend to be more leniently enforced)

That being said, at some point during my running around the
mall/fair grounds like an incontinent chimpanzee,
(I believe I also stopped briefly to read some of the comic mounds
in question. Which might also have been why I was being chased.
The mall is not a lending library)the scene shifted to a sort
of lobby in some unknown hotel. Don't ask me how or why,
just go with it, I did. Anyway, this is where it starts to get
weird. First off I was standing around the lobby, and there
were these officious looking people talking amongst themselves.
They seemed to be some sort of social workers or something, as
there were a number of other people my age and younger in the lobby,
apparently staying at the hotel for some sort of retreat or conference.
At any rate, whilst they were chatting, I reached into my bag and pulled
out what was essential a toy water pistol (kind of looked like a super
soaker, with the water tank on top) only filled with candy.
Yeah that's right. The candy in question seemed to be remarkably
aerodynamic and pellet like (yet still edible apparently), because
the gun itself was fully functioning. That is to say, capable of
sending small pellet like candy hurtling through the air at great
speed and surprising accuracy. I was demonstrating said accuracy,
by shooting candy at people approaching the lobby entrance from
the street outside. I suppose I figured that anyone would be
delighted at being bombarded with candy flavoured ammo.
As one of my hapless victims approached the hotel entrance,
(apperently undaunted by long range confectionary weapon fire)
he seemed somewhat familiar. As he came into view, I realized why:
it was Jerry Seinfeld, sporting long raggedy hair and looking
for all the world like he had been living out of dumpsters
for quite some time. As to why he was at said hotel, I'm not certain
but I believe he was speaking to the youth or something. When he
walked in, he didn't even seem to notice me brandishing a weapon
that had most recently been used to propel unidentified flying candy
in his general direction. Or if he did he didn't mention it, which
was rather big of him.

At this point, I'm not certain of exactly what happened,
in what exact sequence, but I had left the lobby, (perhaps
fleeing the scene of the crime) and was exploring the
various floors of the hotel. I remember encountering other
people who were staying there, mainly girls around my age
who were with the conference/retreat. For some reason,
the hotel seemed to be ancient, less like a hotel and
more like an old forgotten castle or mansion. The girls
seemed somewhat bewildered and frightened, and I remember
that in this point in the dream the atmosphere became much
more tense and suspenseful. The halls of the hotel were
dimly lit, and carpeted with that sort of intricate
deep red carpet you only see in really old buildings or
in movies. For some reason, I was still running, trying
to evade some pursuing force, but as to what I am uncertain
now, I was acting on dream instinct, going with the flow,
reacting to events as they occured with whatever course of
action seemed most appropriate. In my dream I knew i needed
to escape something, and so I was, runnning up and down
staircases, and ducking into elevators.

Cue cuttaway scene. Don't ask me why, but for some reason,
a la comic book, cartoon, and campy 1960's tv show, my dreams
often have a "Meanwhile, in the shadows.." type interlude to
them, when the perspective suddenly shifts in order to fill
the "viewer" in on some other aspect of the "plot". Yes I'm
serious. At any rate, during this particular dream, the plot
point in question being revealed, was that the hotel was in
fact built on an acient pyramid/crypt type dealie
(apparently zoning laws are different in dreams.
One would imagine that an attempt to build a Howard Johnson
over say, the Giza pyramids, would be met with a fair amount
of resistance. Not so in this case evidently. Dream society
has no sense of history and culture.) which had once apparently
been the resting place of some sort of ancient being worshiped
as a deity. Said being was a gigantic creature made of living
sand, sort of like the Sandman from the Spider-Man comics,
only about the size of an apartment complex. As it turns out,
said ancient evil behemoth/living sandcastle had been awakened
by the appearance of the youth retreat group. Apparently, one of
said group, a young girl, was the decendant of somebody or other,
and therefore, was of paramount importance to the aformentioned
ancient evil sandman-meets-Godzilla type. I think maybe because
by using her in some dark ritual could me return to his full
power or some such thing. Not too clear, don't really recall.
At any rate, he was after her, and as any self respecting dream
protagonist will tell you, it was all up to me to save her.
(What do you want it's a dream, not Tolstoy)

So I spent a large portion of the rest of the dream running
from floor to floor of the hotel. I told the girl she was in
danger, and I think she got away somehow, not really sure,
dream didn't specify, but for whatever reason it was evident
to the dream me that she was no longer in danger.

I however, had yet to escape safely out of harms way.
Presumably as a direct result of my actions, I was now
being pursued by the nigh unstopable force of the
reawakened ancient evil....

Bom bom bom!!!

Cliffhanger ending!!

To be continued eventually!!

Yes I'm petty

2006-07-21T08:50:00.000-07:00

Hello.

A while back, I was telling some folks, Sam and others,
that the word Bumbershoot, meant umbrella. I was under
the erroneous impression that it was a word of British
origin. It apparently is not. It is however a real word.
I present to you factual evidence, ye doubting thomases you.
This was taken from dictionary.com

1 entry found for bumbershoot.
bum·ber·shoot Audio pronunciation of "bumbershoot" ( P ) Pronunciation Key (bmbr-sht)
n.

An umbrella.

[Alteration of umbrella + alteration of (para)chute.]

In addition, wikipedia had this to say, I highlighted the most relevant passage:

Bumbershoot
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Jump to: navigation, search
Look up bumbershoot in Wiktionary, the free dictionary.

Bumbershoot is an annual international music and arts festival located in Seattle, Washington. One of America's largest local arts festivals, it takes place every Labor Day weekend at the 74-acre (299,000 m²) Seattle Center, which was built for the 1962 World's Fair. Seattle Center includes indoor theaters, outdoor stages, McCaw Hall, and Memorial Stadium. The name of the festival was taken from Bumbershoot, a colloquial term for umbrella, probably coined in the 19th century as a portmanteau of umbrella and parachute.

Thousands of artists, including musicians, poets, painters, dancers, comedians, clowns, disc jockeys, and more, perform at Bumbershoot in a three-day long adventure of music and art. Originally run by the City of Seattle, the festival adopted its name in 1973, when it attracted 200,000 visitors. For its first two years, it was known as Festival '71 [125,000 visitors] and Festival '72 [175,000 visitors].

Admission was free until 1980, when One Reel took over production duties from the city. The city stopped financing the festival in 1995.

So there. Nyah.

Ozymandias

2006-07-17T00:35:00.000-07:00

Hey

I found this site called poemhunter, and I've decided,
that along with my own poetry, i'd start posting poems
I've enjoyed that were written by other people. As such,
I've gonna post this one, a poem I first read in highschool.
I'm fairly certain most of you might have read it as well.
I was always quite struck by the imagery. Here ya go:

Ozymandias

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: `Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear --
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.'

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Anonymity is overated

2006-07-17T00:15:00.000-07:00

Hello

I found this poem online while searching for poems signed anonymous.

Thought I'd post it here. I rather like it, tho if it comes off as pro war to you, I make it clear that I'm a pacifist. The reason I like this particular poem, is becuase it points out the disposability of soldiers, how their viewed, and their role as pawns.

I'm not sure if that's how the author meant it, but hey that's what you get for not signing your work. Anyway here you go. It's quite short, so even if you hate it, it will at least be over with quickly.

God and the Soldier

God and the soldier
All men adore
In time of trouble,
And no more;
For when war is over
And all things righted,
God is neglected--
The old soldier slighted.

Anonymous

Bah Bah

2006-07-16T22:39:00.000-07:00

Hello

this is a sheep

I drew him for a very cute, petite, (and oh so very not single)french canadian girl from work. While hardly something I would put in my portfolio, I shall display it here for all to see. If nothing else to keep me humble

Black and white Aslan

2006-07-11T21:50:00.000-07:00

This is a black and white version of a drawing of Aslan I did for my portfolio.

Figured I'd post it here.

Ducks in Space

2006-07-11T19:37:00.000-07:00

Hey der. It's me again, ruler of all I survey, master of disaster, king of calamity, kid wondeful, Matt X. Submitted for your approval, the above drawing was done by friend and work comisserator Joe Toufexis. I asked him to draw a rubber ducky. He drew one in space. I gotta do a watercolour painting in this vein, cept mine's gotta be a pirate rubber ducky. It's a "commissioned work". Given my usual work ethic/time management skills, it should be finished some time early 2008. Look for it soon(ish)

Joe's ninja

2006-07-08T00:21:00.000-07:00

What do you do when you get utterly and completely tired of drawing something?
You pawn the work off on someone else. This Sucker er...I...mean my good friend
Joe Toufexis, was kind enough to draw this ninja for me, thus saving me the trouble
of having to draw another one. Also, we both drew ninja's from imagination, sans
referrence. As i recall, his was better. But you didn't hear that from me.
I think the one I drew was the spider clan ninja drawing a few posts ago.
Decide for yourselves America!

Crappy Monster

2006-07-08T00:10:00.000-07:00

This is a drawing of a monster I did, with no referrence, on a napkin. It is
in all seriousness, quite possibly one of the worst drawings I have ever done.
Why am I posting it here? From some sense of masochistic self deprecatory angst?
Because I subconsciously want to sabotage myself? Because I just don't give a sh*t?
All of the above, even when mutaully exclusive principles? Possibly. Anyway here it is.
Enjoy. Or riot in the streets. Whichever.

The Octopus is on the move

2006-07-07T23:58:00.000-07:00

This was drawn on a napkin by my Brother In Law Chris, proprietor of the Bazooka Radio
Blog, a fine publication in it's own right, tho not quite as unabashedly awesome as the
one you are currently perusing. Upon repeated threats to my life and welfare, i conceded to post the sketch here. I quite like it, despite it's obvious pro-socialist,
anti-marine biology agenda, and it's deviant sexual overtones.

DD Ninja 2

2006-07-07T23:26:00.000-07:00

Yet another homage to the great art of JRJ. I'm gonna colour this one in in watercolour then repost it. I really want to perfect my own style, but If I ever get to be at least
as good as people like this, I'll be happy.

DD Ninja

2006-07-07T23:21:00.000-07:00

This marker drawing is a er...homage....yeah that's it....to the cover art from
the Daredevil man without fear trade written by Frank Miller, and drawn by the
incredible John Romita Jr. One day I shall match your skills John, and then the
world is mine!!! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Ahem..yes

Nature girl

2006-07-07T08:15:00.000-07:00

This is a drawing a girl from work did for me. She doesn't seem to think it's very good, but I like it quite a bit. It's got an art nouveau qality to it.

Spider clan ninja

2006-07-06T22:30:00.000-07:00

Hey! It's another ninja drawing! Hurray! I'm not sick of ninja's now!
Not even a little. Jeremy can i stop yet?!?!?

full coulour ninja

2006-07-04T23:28:00.000-07:00

This colour ninja brought to you by crayola sketching markers

Good enough to get the job done, just barely

A happy poem about despair, fear and self doubt

2006-07-03T12:23:00.000-07:00

Hey der.

I wrote this poem on one of those lazy, sunny, not a care in the world days
I started writing about how zen and peaceful i was feeling, when I started to question why that's such a contrast to any other day. This poem is the result. Enjoy:

Basking in the glory of
these moments of euphoria
The gentle warmth of sunshine
a breeze against my skin

Is this another story of
the thoughts that I've been storing up
till they start to overtake
the state of peace that I was in

It's in these moments of reflection
that I question the direction
that my life's been taking lately
Am I walking the right path?

Another chance for introspection
reveals a certain predilection
for allowing life to sweep me up
like wind catching the chaff

It's admidst this realization
that I am struck with the sensation
that I create my own emergency
by the way that I react

This isn't self actualization
or some breakthru meditation
It's just coming to accept
that my own head can be a trap

When life's daily aggravations
induce a state of agitation
I'm finding more often than not
the answers sitting in my lap

When I let the past control me
and there's nothing to console me
I am mixing my own poison
drinking deep in my regrets

What I need is greater Knowledge
Of the vastness of your Solace
Hold me fast in your embrace
it's still your touch that heals the best

Ninja is a four letter word

2006-07-03T00:18:00.000-07:00

Ninja this, ninja that

2006-07-03T00:16:00.000-07:00

Corporate Zombie sketch 2! (represent)

2006-07-03T00:12:00.000-07:00

Finally, some more Zombie pics of the much under represented (as of late) Zombie demographic. All you undead brain eaters finally get your props. Shout out to my man George Romero, and to the good folks at Capcom.

Wild Zero does not endorse this drawing

2006-07-02T17:22:00.000-07:00

Neither does Guitar Wolf.

Rock and Roll!!

Hoodie Ninja's

2006-06-28T22:09:00.000-07:00

I never thought i'd get sick of drawing Ninjas

But alas.

Here's another drawing done PRO BONO for my good friend Jeremy.

Enjoy.

Hardcore ninja

2006-06-28T18:21:00.000-07:00

Horney Samurai

2006-06-23T00:06:00.000-07:00

Napkin Samurai

2006-06-16T09:04:00.000-07:00

Hello.

I drew this guy from imagination/memory on a napkin at Mikes
restaurant. Hence the Huge Mikes logo. It should be noteed however,
That in no way do I endorse Mike's. I don't even really like the food
there. I mean it's alright. Nothing special you know?
Anyway, post some more comments.

2006-06-16T00:31:00.000-07:00

Another ninja.

I used a manga as refference for the pose, although it's been
changed enough that it barely resembles the reference used.
Basically only the pose is the same, even that is slightly
differently, mainly the position of the head.

Here ya go.

Ninja Ninja Ninja!

2006-06-15T23:52:00.000-07:00

Here's another Ninja I drew for Jer.
Don't say I never gave you nothing.
I aped the pose for this drawing from a
Nighthawk drawing. Enjoy.

IronMan

2006-06-15T23:23:00.000-07:00

Here's a drawing of Ironman I did at work. I spent a long time on it,
was trying to practice my shading. Still looks a little rough tho.

2006-06-15T23:01:00.000-07:00

My friend Jeremy asked me to draw him some Ninja's for a story he's writing.
This is the first of the drawing's I did. I used Strider from the old capcom games
for the pose. Jeremy if you actually check out my blog from time to time, here are
the drawings you asked for. I can email them to you if you want.

Joe's ship

2006-06-03T20:39:00.000-07:00

My friend Joe drew this. Pretty cool no?

Yes work is boring so we draw

2006-05-31T13:04:00.000-07:00

Zombie dragon

2006-05-31T00:20:00.000-07:00

This is another sketch I did at work, from the same artbook
It's a nowhere near as cool as the original, but hey it's
just a sketch right? I'm just practicing right? Right!?

Guy with gun 2, the reckoning

2006-05-30T12:28:00.000-07:00

Yeah this is the "full" version of the pic I posted before.
Basically, I did one drawing which was a close up on his face,
and another that shows the full pose. I really wanted to get
the full pose in, with the forshortening and whatnot.

And no contrary to popular belief, it is not Jesus with a gun.
Yes someone actually asked me that.

Guy with gun

2006-05-30T10:34:00.000-07:00

More sketches, video games and such

2006-05-28T22:23:00.000-07:00

This is a sketch of Ryu, the mute main hero from the Breath of Fire Series.
I got this really awesome art book with a bunch of character designs,
concept art and level design from all five games. It's really awesome.
I wish my level of drawing could do it justice, which is why i'm trying
to practice as much as I can over the summer.

Anyway, this is a quick sketch I did at work, hence the numbers
scrawled across the top of the page.

Breath of Fire art

2006-05-28T10:19:00.000-07:00

Still Guy pierce

2006-05-26T21:42:00.000-07:00

Hello.

This is my drawing of Guy pierce from the cover
of one of those free newspaper dealies.
You know, the ones with all the gay sex hotlines
and escort services in the back. Don't pretend
like you never called them up.

And no contrary to popular belief, this is not Jesus.

Guy Pierce

2006-05-26T21:40:00.000-07:00

My first collaborative effort

2006-05-24T10:26:00.000-07:00

Hello

I'm back once again to drop mad knowledge and rock it like
it's armaggedon and such. This week I'm laying down this
pic I did with a friend from work, Joe Toufexis. He's
am illustration and design student from Dawson, who's now off
doing his own thing. I met him thru Dennis and Billy Toufexis
(yes there's a relation), the guys who used to lead me bible study.
Anyway, he works at ticket pro now, and last shift I drew this robot
and bribed him into coulouring it in and shading it for me. He also
added some detail to the "wings". This drawing was done, incidentally,
because some guy asked me and joe to draw a gundam. (that guy is also an
artist BTW, he's trying to get into illustration at dawson) So we both
proceeded to draw what we thought a gundam looked like from memory. Joe
drew this 1950's style, scifi fantasy type robot that looked like a cross
between the terminator, and a gobot. I wish i had it to show you here.
I drew the robot you see before you, which looks a lot like a cross between a crappy transformer and a tranzorzee or Goldorak rip off.

Then joe coloured it in. Voila. Instant robot that doesn't look at all like a gundam.

Robot Junction

2006-05-24T09:43:00.000-07:00

Alex's pic

2006-05-15T21:58:00.000-07:00

Here's my friends pic. His names' Alex. He's pretty cool.
It's like outsider art.

School's out for summer

2006-05-12T21:54:00.000-07:00

Hello all. As you may or may not have noticed, I have been absent for the past little while.
That is because I have been hard at work attempting to get my school stuff all shiny and finsihed and handed in like.
So if i have seenmed standoffish, or distant, or extremely good looking, it's not something you said, it's the fact that every waking moment of my life has been budgeted between school and work. In fact if my life as of late were a algebraic formula it would break down something like (X+Y)/Z = -15, where X is equivalent to work, Y is school, divided by hours in the day = free time. So yeah, been a little busy, but the good news is, I''m all finished now!!!!!! Yay!!!

Other than that not much to report. I bought my new computer, just got it today. It super sexy and awesome, just like me.
Its an Imac intel core duo. It has super sexy specs, that would make most techies drool and such. I likes it a lot. It's the first step towards my career in the field of design.

Over the summer I plan on teaching myself flash and Indesign. I also plan on doing a heck of a lot of drawing, so if anyone out there has any requests or wants to collaborate (cough, chris, cough, cough) feel free to drop me a line.

Speaking of summer plans, I am totally coming down this summer to hang out with my favourite eastern townshippers. Some Eastern Townshippers should do the same, wink wink, nudge nudge. I also plan on getting my license (hopefully) and getting my first tattoo. (or part of it anyhow)

Oh BTW, for my final project for my drawing class this year, I did an illustrated book of my poetry. I saved the final as a pdf, so If anyone wants a copy, feel free to ask. I'm gonna make print outs for everyone eventually, but that costs money so, its gonna hafta wait. (wallets a little light right now...heh heh)

Oh one last thing, a lot of the sketches I put up just before are from self same aforementioned book project, just to give you an idea. Eventually I'll post them all up here, along with the other stuff I did this year in my drawing class.

Till next Time,

Matt X

2006-05-09T23:42:00.000-07:00

Zen rocker

2006-05-09T23:41:00.002-07:00

Rock an Roll!!

2006-05-09T23:41:00.001-07:00

Ghost rider's gonna suck.....

2006-05-09T23:41:00.000-07:00

the scream

2006-05-09T23:38:00.001-07:00

Pete's rage sketch

2006-05-09T23:38:00.000-07:00

You wouldn't like him when he's angry

2006-05-09T23:36:00.001-07:00

Heart in hand

2006-05-09T23:36:00.000-07:00

Power lunch

2006-05-09T23:35:00.000-07:00

Bleeding heart sketch

2006-05-09T23:34:00.001-07:00

All better

2006-05-09T23:34:00.000-07:00

Angel

Finally, some new art stuff.

2006-04-13T08:28:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I've been promising to put up some pictures
of my art from this semester since um...last semester.
But you see I have a very good excuse, my dod ate it,
my great uncle mordicai died, i had the flu AND the chicken pox,
and um...I thought it was due next week. Er yeah..

Actually, I've just been super busy with school, which leaves
me with little or no time to work on my blog. I mean what do you
people want from me!?!? Blood!?!

But all that aside, I finally got around to taking a picture of one
of my paintings/drawings, so I thought I'd post it here. It's for
an assignment, we we're supposed to represent an idiom (chosen from a list)
graphically with a gestural drawing. I also had promised someone a while back
(several years actually.), that I would paint them a Vampire painting, so I chose
the idiom "Once bitten, twice shy" (heh heh) and went to work. This is the result.

It's pretty good, all though obviously not perfect, but I thought I'd post it up
here for you all to enjoy/criticize. Don't say I never got you nothing.

2006-04-13T08:25:00.000-07:00

Here's another close up, this one of just the figures.

2006-04-13T08:22:00.000-07:00

Here's a slightly darker version.

2006-04-13T08:18:00.000-07:00

This is the whole painting.

2006-04-13T08:15:00.000-07:00

A vertical close up.

Poem time is now being

2006-03-27T09:36:00.001-08:00

Hello again. How goes? I saw V for Vendetta yesterday. It was amazing. I definitely buying it when it comes out (or stealing it, whichever is more in keeping with the theme of the movie) I'm surprised there hasn't been more controversy surrounding this movie, given the current state of affairs here and in the States. Maybe it has to do with Bush's approval rating being so low.
At any rate, it was a really good flick, very relevant.

On a somewhat related note, I finally finished the poem I was working on that I kept mentioning sporadically in here. I already showed Joey the preliminary version, so here you go Joe, here's the final.

This is a house whose foundation is blood
It was built from our bodies facedown in the mud
The framework constructed from rights that you stole
The pillars and rafters are part of our soul
It sits on the land that you claimed for your own
We were helpless to stop it, how could we have known
When the fortunate few put a gun to your head
after awhile you stop counting the dead
In the name of it's glory you tore us apart
with visions of destiny filling your hearts
You built this system, each brick broke our bones
An order of graves to the rows of it's stones
A slaughtering house that is tainted with blight
It's walls dripping red but you still call it white
When it was finished you said it was good
unmindful of those on whose backs you had stood
We built this house though we never agreed
We were matyrs and slaves in the land of the free
You were the hammers and we were the nails
Who says that freedom and justice prevails

There you go hope you like it. Joey if your reading this I'm sorry I didn't hang out this past weekend.
I ended up doing my training for my new job from 9 to 4pm and then working from 5 to close at
blockbuster on Saturday. I could have maybe have done something yesterday, but truth be told I
completely forgot that we said we'd hang out last week, I only got your message last night.
We'll have to hang out this week. I'll call you tonight. Congrats on selling your house BTW.

To everyone else, take it easy and have a good week. And if you feel the need to take up arms
against an oppressive totaltitarian state, may God be with you.

Matt X

Belated March Madness

2006-03-23T08:09:00.000-08:00

Hello out there. Been awhile I knoes. I suppose someone should be
pointing out the obvious, since I'm on March break I should have a buttload of time to update my blog. Well you're partially right, I do have some projects to do, but I have the time yeah. So why haven't I yet you ask? Funny you should mention, I was house sitting for the last three days, and they had a computer there that I believe predates electricity. It was quite slow and therefore I opted to wait until I got back here to do any blog related activities. Anyway, I hope to have some pictures up soon, but not today, perhaps later this week. Alas I must attend work today, my only respite that I have given my two weeks notice, and start training at Ticket Pro on Saturday. So pray for that if ye be so inclined. I'm a little nervous, it's a fairly big change after two years of comfortable drudgery and familiar BS. Oh I almost forgot, I started writing poems on the bus any time that I'm not drawing on the bus. The exercise has produced what I daresay is my best poem yet. It's not yet titled, but I was leaning towards The Business of Making a Killing. Here it is:

I remember yesterday like it was tommorrow
it blurs around the edges like an unfamiliar sorrow
I woke up in a pool of sweat, I've forgotten who I am
And I just can't shake the feeling that I'm sinking in the sand
I get up wash off the evidence, apply a scent to hide my own
And I marvel at the tyranny of this cage of flesh and bone
I stand there for a second then it's time to choose a mask
There's a brand name and identity that is suited to each task
I grab my briefcase and a coffe as I'm headed out the door
Another soldier sent to slaughter in a neverending war
When I return covered in crimson my hair matted to my skin
You would never recognize me in the state that I am in
In my skull my head is pounding and my eyes will close no more
But i'll sleep sound in the knowledge: another win for status quo

Not bad eh? I'm gonna post more later, I'm still working on that
poem from before Joey. It's proving to be a challenge fitting it all
together the way I want. I'll post it as soon as I'm done.
Should have some more stuff up this weekend.

Take it easy,

Matt X

Three poems for the price of your soul (prices may vary)

2006-03-06T00:13:00.000-08:00

Hey there cyberkids,

It's been about three weeks since the last time I posted (I blame society), so I figure I should prolly get off my ass and post something yeah? Shut up, nobody asked you. Anyway, since it's
Been awhile, I decided to post three, count em three older poems this time out. Yes you heard me, your minds are about to be exploded by the sheer force of the splendiferous awesomosity of my versatile versification. It be epic. Three two one brain esplodah

Yesterday was all the time it took to say I'm sorry
Today was everything that I forgot to feel
Tomorrow is the echo of an old familiar story
of everything that's eminent and nothing that is real

I used to take the time to wonder
Now I wonder about my time
I've been slowly going under
I'm beginning to unwind

I can watch it as it happens
the parade of empty words
It's a joke but no one's laughing
It's alarming and absurd

You use to say that everything's ahead of us
You use to tell us we could make it if we try
We never noticed there were fissures in the edifice
We never thought we'd be swallowed in a lie

I never thought I'd start to listen to the idiots
I never thought I'd get cynical and hard
I've got an edge and I can't seem to get rid of it
I never thought I trade inches for a yard

So here's to you kid, you finally killed your innocence
Hey where's the fun in murder suicide
I tried to cry, but I only end up laughing
Irony's a stupid way to find out that you've died

And a number two:

I'm allergic to the alphabet
Letters are not my friend
Sentences tried to kill me
paragraphs spell the end

I was alive with symbols
you were a metaphor
I was poetry in motion
you were a carnivore

I don't remember dying
You'd think it would leave it's mark
hey what's the use in trying
You did it on a lark

I hate to see me leave
But you love to watch me go
Don't pretend to be bereaved
I know it's all for show

This is a bloodstained letter
this is a eulogy
Don't try to make things better
You made a fool of me

Third times the (c)harm:

Waiting is like dying

I've been bleeding out my time

Waves of yesterdays are sliding

burning bridges in my mind

It's the tyranny of moment

over memory and space

I get swept up in the torrent

when I try to keep the pace

there's causality and karma

every action leaves it's mark

Things you never saw the harm of

end up tearing you apart

Every second serves to sever

Every moment moves you on

There's a weight to each endeavour

As life rushes you along

I am hope borne of potential

That has yet to be attained

There is no act inconsequential

Every note builds to refrain

Though I'm sick and tired of waiting

I refuse to waste my time

I have dreams invigorating

And I plan to make them mine

(I'm not sure if this one's finished yet.
I may add more later if I feel like it. So yeah, watch for that.)

So yeah there you go kids. Enjoy. This batch seems a little darker than usual, but it's all a unique glimpse in to my shattered psyche I guess. I should really start charging for the priviledge.

Until next time, I remain the one and only Matt X

P.S. : Don't worry Joe, I'm still working on my other poem. I'll post it soon. Also, i'll hopefully have some cool drawings and stuff up here soon, soon as I get the time. I've been doing about one or two quick sketches a day. So it's just a matter of scanning them in and/or polishing them up a bit.

Time again to drop the science

2006-02-20T07:25:00.000-08:00

Hello, my name is new poem.

This one's called Metro.

I am in transit again
moving around this city like electrical charges,
underground cables. Everyone, everything's in motion,
crowds gather, disperse, jostle for position.
People sit next to me but say nothing,
don't make eye contact, too risky,
you never know what they might do, strangers.
In our heads kinetic energy, free form thought.
I can almost hear it, like the humming of fluorescent lights.
Plans are made,
regrets mulled over,
I wonder what's for dinner tonight,
I hope I get this weekend off,
my parents are going to kill me.
Conversations interrupt the silence,
intermittent, isolated
only those concerned need participate
a bizarre public privacy
We are dreams and souls,
fear, hate, love, war, peace, beauty, truth
horror, pain, longing and fulfillment
We are gathered in the throng,
alone together,
uniformly disconnected.
We are a makeshift city of nomads,
a river that spills on a thousand shores.

Pretty deep huh? That's how I roll sucka punk.

P.S. Joey if your reading this, do you still need that logo or did you go with other guy? Sorry it's
not done yet, so much school that eyes are bleeding and sentences are running on. And where's my response to the response on article? Also I finally got your myspace link a workin. Now your traffic will increase nonefold.

Happy Valentines you stupid doodyheads

2006-02-14T00:03:00.000-08:00

Hello. Many of you without a healthy social life (read: anyone actually reading this) may not have realized this, but Valentines day, that holiest of sacred holidays has come again. Celebrated in honour of St Valentine killing a grizzly and mountain lion with his bare hands so that the children of his village could have giblets and entrails to eat all through the coming winter (I assume. Look it up yourself, what am I a history teacher?.) , Valentine's day has come to be associated with chocolate hearts and mushy romance movies. Having recently fallen victim to these halmark sentiments myself, I feel the need to vent a little about this "magical" day. Here's the story: I recently got up the courage to tell a girl (who I was already friends with) I was really into her. It didn't go so well. She was already going with this other guy (which I knew full well), but it was pretty early on in their relationship (they hadn't even kissed yet), so I figured I had a shot. Turns out I was wrong. Oh so very wrong. Now I'm left to pick up the pieces of my shattered ego and heart. (Audience: Aaaawww....)

Now, seeing how I'm not the type to take responsibility for my own mistakes (which are many), I needed some kind of scapegoat. And since this all happened to transpire around the same time as V-day, I feel that I was the victim of forces beyond my control. You see, there's a lot of money to be made from this whole Valentine's thing. Card makers, florists, chocolate manufacturers, all stand to make a cut. So it's in their best interest that we be all like lovey dovey and googley eyed and twitter pated and what not. So they try to make sure that we are. How do they do this? Well for one thing, Hollywood puts out like 38 romantic comedies, tragic love stories, and "gripping" explorations of love conquering-the-odds-and-winning-in-the-end in a given month. Even though I don't really watch these movies, I work in a video store, so I can't really escape there ubiquitous influence. Which is why, like a complete idiot, the hapless romantic part of me thought things like "So what if she works with me, it'll be okay, we're meant for each other." and "I'll sweep her off her feet so bad, she won't even remeber that other guy's name." Yeah I know, I'm retarded, but you gotta understand, you're not thinking logically when you look at someone and think to yourself "I just want to hold her in my arms" At that point your pretty much done for.

At any rate, to counteract all the crappy, sugar coated, love conquers all BS that's pretty much all you hear about this time of year, I thought I'd vent a little and put forth what I think are some slightly more realistic V-day thoughts songs/poems/ect. Some of these are gonna be a little dark, since the wounds are still a little raw, and the whole experience has left me a little more jaded than usual. This too shall pass. I'm gonna post a few right now, and a few more later after I think of some more. Enjoy

Matt's Anti V-Day sentiments:

Love means always having to say I'm sorry. Again.

A broken heart is like a flat tire. It happens when you're not expecting it, leaves you stranded, in need of a change, and often times, professional assitance.

The biggest problem with giving someone your heart, is that there stands a chance that that person may not have one of their own, and may just keep yours.

The card I want to give you isn't made by hallmark. They don't have one that says: "You reduced me to a hollow, empty shell of my former self. Give me back my diginity"

How can love be so sweet, so beautiful, and yet leave me feeling like I've been drinking poison and you threw away the antidote.

Okay this one's really dark, and a little psycho, and for that I apologize but I gotta say it anyway, it's therapeutic. Basically, I just changed the words of that crappy early 90's song "I touch myself" Here ya go.

{I cut myself, I want you to love me.

I cut myself. I know you're thinking of me.

Oh, I don't want, anybody else.

When I think about you I cut myself.

Oh I don't want anybody else

Oh no, Oh no no no...}

Please note that I'm not really into self mutilation. I was just feeling, well, like hell, and this just kinda came to me. It's actually a pretty good description of how I was feeling. Not to be overly melodramactic or anything, but it's already been a few days, and I still feel like I have some sort of terminal illness of the soul.

And on that note, I bid you adieu...

If you all have any sob stories you'd like to share, go ahead. I'm not stopping you. Or if you have one of those "power of love" stories, lay it on me. I could use a pick me up.

Until next time, I remain awesome as always,

Matt

Happy Poem!! Yay!! (now sod off)

2006-02-12T23:37:00.000-08:00

Hey I'm back.

I'm not even gonna wait for my last poem to sink in, I'm just gonna up and post another one. I'm like prolific or something. Actually it's an older poem I wrote awhile ago. And yes like the title suggests, this one's a little more upbeat. Watch for iambic pentameter or whatever.

I'm gonna smile today
not gonna frown away my day
Don't hear your lies today
So give it up
there's nothing you can say

I'm gonna walk away from
everything that brings me down
I'm gonna leave you here
to miss me when I'm not around

I'm gonna sing today
and hang my heart on melody
I'm gonna laugh today
and no one's gonna get the joke but me

I'm bullet proof you know
you can't hurt me, so don't even try
I've got the how, the what, the when
don't need to figure out the why

I am a technicolor dream
I am an engine full of steam
Don't try to stop me cuz you can't
I am the reason for the rant

I am the fire in their eyes
I am the folly of the wise
You are a thousand steps behind
I am a legend in my mind

I won't be ignored today
I'm gonna chase gray skies away
I am a sword today
That cuts through all the darkness in my wake

Pretty Neat eh? It's like self affirming and like in touch with it's inner child and stuff. I should be a motivational speaker. Cash upfront.

Disco dead and....wait, didn't we do this one already?

2006-02-10T18:36:00.000-08:00

Okay, since I know everyone's been waiting

with baited breath for my next great opus,

here's the poem I was talking about

It's tentatively titled Discotech:

Here at the discotech

We're trying to forget

the meaning of our lives

We live for compromise

Come here for second best

No love there's only sex

We'll drink ourselves to death

long as our breath stays fresh

We're bleeding and dying

but nobodies listening

they're too busy drinking

too busy not thinking

Everyone's lying

and nobodies trying

to look a bit deeper

life is so cheap here

we're speaking not talking

we're fucking not loving

we're predators stalking

with words that mean nothing

We'll dance the night away

and die another day

Just take a look around

no substance to be found

that stuff just brings us down

So shake your ass around

turn your frown upside down

Step up don't miss your turn

outside the city burns

they'll find you in the ash

this dance will be your last

Disco's Dead and so are you

2006-02-10T00:12:00.000-08:00

Not that much to report in the life of Matt.

Still really busy with school and work, still hate my part time job, still Straightedge (I even wear the posery X's. Although only to school), still having computer trouble (If anyone's keeping track, my power supply burnt out twice, my video card had to be replaced, I've had to reformat several times, windows stopped working, and I've had modem/internet trouble. A lot.).

A while ago I met this really awesome girl at school, and we hung out for a bit. She ended up asking me for my e-mail, and we went grocery shopping (no that's not a euphonism)

At the time I thought she was really cool, she liked the beat poets, she was also a graphic design student, and she had the tips of her black curly hair dyed green. You know I'm a sucker for stuff like that.

Any way, in the process of trying to get to know her better she sort of freaked out on me, so that didn't work out so great. So I'm still looking for that special someone I guess. Preferably a punk rock chick who likes comic books and anime and beat poets and is funny and smart. Not that I'm picky...

Given that valentine's, last bastion of the greeting card/chocolates in heart shaped boxes industry, is once again around the corner I thought it would be apt to share that. I'll have a very special Valentines day post prepared for the day in question.

Moving on....
I went to a party awhile ago, it was supposed to be a fundraiser for the third year graphic design students vernisage. I figured it would be a great chance to meet the other people in my program. It wasn't. Let me tell you why this party, as well as virtually every other club event sucks.

First off, in this case (and in many others) the promo stuff misleads you. The tickets for this thing (which cost me 8 bucks incidently) specifically say Exhibition of the Graphic Design Graduates. Yet there were no artworks on display at the actual event, which really sucked.

Now to be fair, as you might have guessed, I'm more of a rock and roll kind of guy, so i mainly go to rock shows (when I have the cash, which is unfortunately rarely these days), so clubbing isn't really my scene. But i figured, since people from my program were gonna be there, it might be okay. I was wrong. So very wrong....shudder....

I get to this club, which is about 30 minutes away from where I live by bus, and I see these three bouncers standing outside this crappy faux studio 54 rope barrier thing. So I go up and show them my ticket. The guy looks at me and says: "I'm sorry I can't let you in." I say "I'm sorry? Why not?" He says "You're not dressed right, you have to wear nicer clothes" Now, let me stop right here and say that I fully acknowledge that I'm no fashion plate. I was however, wearing my new camo pants, one of my favourite T-shirts, and my favourite running shoes, none of which were dirty or old looking. I lot I looked pretty damn good. So I said "Are you serious?" He says "Yeah, you need better clothes." Now I'm pissed. "Such as?" I say barely containing the anger in my voice. He says "Just nicer street clothes" I was about to tell him just exactly where he could go, but then he looks at my ticket and says "Oh wait, are you with that Dawson thing?" I nod. He Says "Okay, you can go in. This time." So I halfheartedly follow the other bouncer up the stairs. The other bouncer is a 6 foot 5 black guy who tells me to spread my arms so he can pat me down. At this point I'm getting really pissed and beginning to feel a distinct lack of confidence in this evening turning out to be a good time. But I obediently succumb to the search. The guy get's to my keys, and says "What you got here? A knife?" To which I reply, "Well, those are my keys, but there's a swiss army knife attached to them" He says "You can't bring that in here. Leave it in your car." I say "I came here by bus." Then i add "You need it?" He begrudingly agrees. So I leave him my dangerous toothpick and corkscrew equipped weapon, after being assured I could retrieve it later. I then make my way to the stairs that lead up to the main club area. Two more bouncers inform I need to check my light fall jacket, which is more like a sweater than anything else. So I go to check my "coat" at which point I'm informed it costs 2.50. So I go upstairs and take out twenty bucks. (which incidently also cost 2.50) I tip the coat check girl 2.50 and go up to the main floor.

After all that bullshit, I arrive to find the club not only extremely dark and very small, but just about completely empty. Now keep in mind that the third years who set this thing up were supposed to come early to, well you know, be there. Keep in mind also, that it's already close to 11, and I gotta catch the last bus at 1:00 am. So unless people start showing up soon that's not a whole lot of time to "party".

Anyway, I look the club over, it's only slightly bigger than my appartment, which aint that big. There's a bar on both sides, a really small "private booth" section, a "dance floor" which is the crappiest I've seen in quite some time. Not that I club a whole lot, like I said I usually go to rock shows (which by the way never gave me any shit about how I dress, nor did they ever pad me down, despite the supposedly violent nature of the punk and hardcore scene) so it's not like I'm an expert, but I know a dive when I see one. And I don't mean in the quaint, street kinda way. This place was pretentious AND crappy, a turd covered in gold paint.

The super awesome dj was playing some sort of horrible radio friendly "hip hop/dance music/r and b" mish mosh that was so cliche it made MC Hammer's music seem cutting edge. I mean I like hip hop, I love Blackalicious, Wyclef, The Roots, A Tribe Called Quest, K-OS, LA Symphony, stuff like that, but all the gangster rap/cheesy self promoting, superficial stuff that gets oh so much play time just makes me wanna hurt people. That being said, even in that style of music, there are at least some decent songs to be played, songs that might not be the best content wise, but that at least sound good. This DJ had never heard of these songs. This DJ, I suspect, had never heard of a lot of songs. This DJ played two Mariah Carey songs. In the space of an hour.

Horrible music not withstanding, I decided to wait for a bit to see if anyone else showed up. I'd ordered two cokes and was just about to leave when a few people from my program did. So I hung out with them for a bit, we all sort of agreed that this club and this particular party where both less than spectacular. Eventually the girls I was with decided to take off to find another club. I figured, sure what the hell, not realizing it was already 12:30. So I go down and grab my coat, remarking to the coat check girl about the quality of my experience in the club. She smiles politely and says "Yeah". Then I go see the bouncer about my knife. He hands it back saying "Now you know what to do for next time?" I say "There aint gonna be a next time. This really aint my scene man."

Then I walk out and pass by the other bouncer, the one who wasn't gonna let me in. I quip "Best 8 bucks I ever spent" Not sure if he got that I was being sardonic. Anyway, I take a seat on the bench and wait for the girls to come out. Usually I'm not into those kinda ego trips, but it was nice seeing the look on the guys face as I left with them. There wasn't really all that much to it, but let the guy think what he wants to think, he was a jerk anyways.

So I follow the girls to this other club, thinking that it's relatively close by. Turns out it's across town. So five subway stops later, as we're waiting in line, I ask them how they're getting home. They all sort of shrug. Then it dawns on me to ask what time it was. They tell me, and I briefly toy with the idea of going to the club anyways and catching a cab home. I decide that's not the plan, so I run back to the station, catch the subway back to about 4 blocks from the bus stop, and run like hell. I get there about 4 minutes before the last bus of the night is supposed to be taking off, out of breath but glad I don't hafta take a cab home.

All in all it was a pretty shitty night, and it reaffirmed my utter lack of interested in the club scene. Give me a party at someone's place or a rock show any day, at least then if you meet new people you can actually get to talk to them, and/or people are there to have fun, not so they can get into someone's pants.

I was so turned off by the whole thing that I wrote a poem about it.
I'll post it later.

Your boss sucks too, admit it

2006-02-05T02:57:00.000-08:00

Hey there. I'm back. I've been a little stressed recently, what with the pressures of this modern world and the search for meaning in a universe that seems increasingly devoid of interesting people and/or independent thought. Actually it's mainly just school and work. I've been burning the candle at both ends you see, and it's staring to catch up with me I guess. Just seems like there's so much to do and so little time to do it in. Ah well, keep on trucking I guess.

Lately though I've been increasingly dissatisfied with my work situation, what with my working for a faceless corporation who actually list "deceased" as a possible choice when filling out a "reason for termination/leave of absence" form. At any rate, I've been looking for affirmation of my increasing feelings of ennui. That is to say, I want to tell my boss to stick this job where the sun don't shine. The main thing that keeps me from doing so, aside from acute procrastination, is my extreme dislike of looking for work. I guess in some ways I'm being a wuss, I should just take a chance, and somedays (like today for example) I really do contemplate straight up quitting, but I always seem to punk out and rationalize staying where I am awhile longer. Which is weird for me, because the longest I ever stayed in one place before this was 6 months. It's all coming to a boiling point, I've already gotten to the point where I feel a general feeling of contempt and loathing for just about any customer, (except the really nice ones) just on principle that they came into the store. Which is also weird for me, I usually am very much a people person. Maybe I'm changing, maybe I'm ***shudder*** growing up. I hope not, I aint ready to break out the suit and tie yet.

But I've come away from my main point: we all have or have had bosses that are just complete assholes, whose sole raison d'etre seems to be to derive pleasure from stepping on your neck wile they sandpaper off your nipples. Or something. Use whichever allegory you like.

The point is, we've all experienced it, unless you're one of those bastards whose never had to work, since you live of the money you've inherited, or the connections you never earned. If you find yourself to be one of these people you prolly related more to the nipple sander rather than sandee. If that's indeed the case, please do me a solid and punch yourself repeatedly in the face while clenching razor blades and rusty syphilis infected nails. Rinse and repeat until face is tender and unrecognizable as that of a human being, or for 3 hours, whichever comes first. (Note: sorry rich people, it's not that I really hate you or wish you ill, it's just that your usually evil pricks. So stop it.)

But i digress. Most amoungst us can relate. In that vein, I'll present to you this poem I wrote about a particularly nasty boss I had. My recent experiences have unfortunately been simmilar to this as well, awhich is why I thought I'd revisit this old "work"

Here ya go, enjoy

:

When I set myself on fire
Just to know I was alive
You were pouring on the gasoline
and sharpening your knives

When my tears poured like a river
from the ocean of my soul
You were damming up the waterways
and plugging up the holes

There's nothing I can say to you
that doesn't end in curse
I've known some grade A jerks before
but you might be the worst

You're corrosive, You're a cancer
You're the question no one answers
You're as fun as being last
You're like barefoot walks on glass
If I meet you on the street
through some capricious twist of fate
I'll have to summon all my will
to keep from bashing in you're face

There you go. Yeah, he was not the coolest person
in case you couldn't tell from that little bit of rhyme.
Have you ever had someone who hated you and treated
you like crap no matter what you said or did? Well, that was
this guy.

A broader appeal

2006-02-01T23:03:00.000-08:00

Hello all. I did something I rarely ever do the other day. I actively sought out perspectives I knew to differ from my own. I know, I know. Why waste time finding out where other people are coming from when your just so much cooler than them? Well that's just the kind of guy I am. I try as much as possible to stay in touch with the common man, find out what johnny on the spot has on his mind, get a feel for the people, salt of the earth ect, ect.. No I'm not running for office (although feel free to vote for me. If I make it to power I promise only some of you will be dealt a swift and terrible retribution) I just empathize with the everyman, the unsung heroes of this modern world, the fabric of this rich tapestry we call the human race, blah blah blah.

So how did I seek out these differing view you ask? Well, as is to be expected in this increasingly technocratic society, I used what the kids have taken to calling the internet (or nets if you're an inbred daddy's boy who somehow stumbled drunkenly into the seat of power). Using this "internet", I sought out other weblogs (or blogs as trendy/lazy technophile's have abridged it) in order to gain insight into the sociopolitical underpinings of the rest of the online community. After carefully weighing all the data from a vast array of sources from all across the spectrum, and then analysing the results I've drawn this irrefutablel conclusion: Just about everyone else but me is a stupidface. Ne'er the less, I decided that in order to reach a larger audience (which believe you me, shouldn't be too hard) I've should try to modify my blog to better meet the needs of the masses. As such, I've devised a few different approaches in both style and content, each specifically tailored to resonate with a specific target audience. I've identified the demographic at which each approach is aimed, labeling them for the benefit of those perhaps unfamiliar with the parlance and customs of those groups specified. Should you feel you more readily identify with a different style, feel free to skip ahead to that section. Please note that the greatest of care and research has gone into the forging of each individual style. Enjoy.

Matt's thread, Macho style:

Cars is cool. Did you see the new ford pickups? They can haul all types of heavy stuff. It could pull a tree or log I reckon. Or maybe a big rock. Yup. F%$kin A.

Hunting seasons startin soon. Reckon I'll shoot some defenseless animals. Their majestic forest beauty just pisses me off. This year I'm gonna bring my AK 47. I was gonna bring my rocket launcher, but I figured I'd be more sportsman like.

I need a beer. Woman! Where's mah beer!!

Did you see that chick man, from that new Dukes of Hazard movie. Whooeee!! I'd like to $^%%^##$#$#$ (the rest is unprintable) till her head falls off.

I'm an @sshole

Matt's thread, Nerd Style:

Hey man, you wanna play some D and D? I got the new Stargate SG1 box set man we could watch that. Did you see the new Star Wars? I wore my Jedi costume to the premiere, my mom helped me stitch it. I had to wait in line for 10 days, but it was worth it. I can't believe some people waited until the next day to see it. I'll bet they don't even practice the principles of the Jedi faith. It's so sad really.

Oh man, did you see the new processor from AMD? It's so sweet. Now I can download porn, re-edit movies (I put myself in the lead of the last three Star Wars. Sky Walker be damned.) and work on my original Star Trek screenplay that much faster.

I've never been kissed.

Matt's thread "girl power a la sex in the city by way of the O.C." style:

Girlfriend, you need to tell your man he can't be treating you like that and expecting you to still be with him! What he can't call after 3 days? What there are no phones where he is? Girl, you need to find yourself a new man. It's like I was telling my girl Julie the other day at Trendy Fashion Hut, (Editors note: Probably not a real store) you gotta have a man who appreciates you. You know, buys you flowers, remembers your name, romantic. And he's got to be sensitive, we don't want no emotional cripples. No sir. Most men are pigs. Or dogs. Or possibly pig dogs. They don't even deserve a slap upside the head. That's why you gotta hold out for a good man. Get yourself a man like my Billy, he's a good man.

Other girl: But isn't your man a kick-boxer? And an ex-con? I'm pretty sure he's cheating on you right now. He told he was going to yesterday.

Girl, you don't know what you're talking about. My man Billy's a good man. You don't know him like I know him. He's sensitive, and mysterious. Plus, I know I can change him.

My man is sensitive.

Matt's thread Punk Rock style:

Oy! This F%^&kin thread is F^&*kin poser!!!!
This thread ain't F^&*kin Punk!!!
ANARCHY!!!
BREAK STUFF!!!
I'm F^&*kin straightedge and therefore F^&*kin BETTER THAN YOU!!!
If you disagree with me I'll F^&*kin PUNCH YA!!!
My favorite band is being signed to a major label !!!
They're F$%^kin SELLOUTS!!!!
I am well versed on important social ISSUES!!!
Which I will express by yelling and/or SWEARING AT YOU !!!
I"m a NONCONFORMIST!!
Just like all my FRIENDS!!!
We all dress the SAME!!!
Cuz we're REBELS!!!
If you don't dress/talk/act like us then YOU'RE A POSER!!!
I hate POSERS!!!
Why can't they THINK FOR THEMSELVES!!!!
OY!! OY!! OY!!

I'm a misunderstood @$$hole.

Matt's thread Omish/pioneerl style:

What devilry is thus? An electronic devil box?!?!? Ah, It's swallowed my soul!! Ones and zeroes be the devil's playthings! Tis not a good usage of one's time. Tis no barn building. And speaking verily of barn building, the witchcraft contained on yon magic cube tells nothing of the buliding of a fine barn. After much vexing I managed to ask the contraption to inform me of "american wood" and the result twer not at all as expected, english.

I'm a trogolodite made famous (ironically?) by a movie starring Han Solo.

Matt's thread awesome style:

No change

There you go. Hopefully one of these styles speaks to you.

(Note: Matt X and all subsidaries of Mattco and it's parent company Super Happy Carcenogenics take no responsibilty for any specific style not speaking to you

Yay! A List! Now I am fullfilled!!!!

2006-01-26T22:52:00.000-08:00

Hello all. I have returned. You may resume standing in awe of my greatness. I would like to say however, that in real life I'm not actually this egotistical. I'm much worse.

No I'm kidding. I'm actually a pretty down to earth guy. I just think that all shall fall beneath my iron fist. Nothing personal.

Chris if you're out there, I took your advice and fixed the logo for your "band". Now it says "Doppelganger Effekt, it's spelt with an unlaut" (sorry I don't know where the unlaut character is on my keyboard) No but seriously I'll send you the finished version, unlaut and all.

Alright now that the fan mail has been answered on with the show. This week I thought I'd leave you guys with a list of my goals and dreams. Only some of them are completely made up. I'll leave it to you to figure out which ones.

So without further ado, I present in no particular order:

Matt's List of Things To Do Before I Die

Read all of War and Peace. Not just tell people I have like everybody else does.

Develop super powers. Use them for evil.

End world hunger and cure disease. Maybe bring about peace on earth and goodwill to all men, if you get the time

Use the word antidisestablishmentarianism in a sentence, one that is actually relevant to a conversation

Take a bite out of crime.

Build a bridge to the future. Then burn it once people start to cross.

Diversify my portfolio.

Actually have a portfolio.

Teach a man to fish. Then break it to him gently that all the fish left are full of mercury.

Kill a man in Rio just to watch him die.

Become a hipster. Then brood, and complain about every band you like selling out. Oh wait I already did that one. My bad.

Start a band, and become popular with the "in" crowd. Then sell out just to piss them off. "Their first album was better..."

Steal from the rich and give to the poor. You know like the government. Only in reverse.

Open a comic book/music shop. Then verbally abuse and berate your clientele. Because they're not worthy.

Buy a house. Soundproof one room then stick drums a mini studio and a stage in it. Host and promote underground bands. Become drunk on your own power and influence in the scene.

Start an on-line comic. Base all the characters on people you know. Then they'll pay.....

Finish what you

Doppleganger Effekt

2006-01-23T00:03:00.000-08:00

Hello

Remember when I said I was gonna post pictures and stuff?
What's that? I'm talking to myself? There's no one here?
Feh, that's never stopped me before. Anyway, as I was
saying, I've finally gotten around to finishing something
I actually don't feel horribly embarassed about posting here.
It's a prelim logo for my brother's band. They're called
Doppleganger Effekt and they rock. I would call them traditional folk-core.
What's that mean? I dunno, buy there Cd went it hits son. You'll be sorry
if you don't. I mean more so. Anyway, here's the pic:

It's not completely finished, I'm gonna do more shading and stuff, plus add this symbol thingy, but there you go. Enjoy.

Later

Matt X

Technology imitates art, which imitates life, which sucks

2006-01-22T10:42:00.000-08:00

Hey der

I am back to bring the noise and such.

What's that you say? You'd like me to post another poem?

Cheeky monkey. Nobody tells me what to do.

Alright, alright stop your blubbering.

How about I post an E-poem? What's an E-poem you ask?

What did I tell you about talking back?

Fine I'll tell you. (Bloody whiner)

An E-poem is a poem written in "real time" directly to the web.

That way the creative process is entirely electronic,

without all the pesky interference of "real life"

This ensure that the end result is as inorganic as possible,

while still being spontaneous. It's all the rage.

What's that you say? I just made this whole thing up?

Why you lousy such and such....

Fine doubter, I'll show you.

Here goes:

Kill the modern day view

You'll be burned alive by time

Burried neck deep in yesterdays

and caught in the currents of tomorrow

I raise a fist against conformity

Just like everyone else

I am the barcode

I am the ampersand

No one remebers why

We only remeber when

There was a question no one asked

to an answer no one found

don't go looking for solutions

when you're buried in the ground

I got a fist full of broken promises

and a pocketfull of lies

and I'm burning like the atoms

that are falling from the sky

See? That's an E-poem, a poem written entirely in cyberspace,

that nebulous pseudo-concept that transhumanists fantasize about

and failed Sci Fi writers use a stock backdrop for their "epics".

It's so very po-mo (that's for you CB) and ever so cyber punk.

Anyway, let me know what you think. (so i can make fun of you)

Same day, different sh$t

2006-01-19T21:42:00.000-08:00

Yep I'm posting again. Twice in the same day I know. But I gotta make up for lost time see, cuz my computer was down for a few days. So anyway, it occured to me that some of you out there might be interested in learning a bit more about me (Hey it could happen, shut up.)So I thought I'd give you a brief insight into the genius that is Matt. And what better way to do so than by means of hard hitting, no holds barred journalism.

(Caution: May include "liberal bias". And by liberal bias, I mean of course my opinion. And by my opinion, I of course mean the gospel truth.)

So I present for your approval, a totally objective interview with Matt X.

Totally Objective Interviewer: "So Matt, how did you get to be so awesome?"

Matt: "I'm not sure really, I've just sort of always been this way."

TOI: "I see...so how do you deal with the pressures and responsibilities that come with being the object of admiration for everyone who's in the know?"

Matt: "Well it can be hard some times, I tell you. The trick is to take it one day at a time."

TOI: "Do you still find time for the little people? You know like, everyone else?"

Matt: "Oh for sure, for sure....I mean, you have to remember where you came from right? Don't be fooled by the rocks that I got...something, something... No, yeah, I mean, I wouldn't be where I am today without the continued support of people like you." (Gestures towards audience, cheering ensues)

"Thank you, no you're too kind..." (Raises hand...audience quiets back down )

TOI: "Can I ask you Matt, what's it like to be you? What goes on inside your head?"

Matt: "Well that's a very good question.... Let me see, how do I best convey this...You know that feeling you get when you do something that you're really proud of, you know a really cool accomplishment?"

TOI: "Yeah..."

Matt: "Well, multiply that tenfold, that's how I would feel after just like, I don't know....making toast or something....Even the smallest things I do are pretty much more awesome than like the normal human mind can withstand."

TOI: "I dunno man, don't you think that's a little narcissistic?"

Matt: "Next question..."

TOI: "Okay sorry, didn't mean to put you on the spot...I do have one last question though..."

Matt: "Okay, but this is the last one, I really gotta get going..." (Audience: "Aawww....."

TOI: "Okay I understand, you're a busy man....I'll make it quick....Some people would describe you as egotistical, how would you respond to this criticism?"

Matt: "Okay....That's it, this interview is over!"

***Storms off***

Once again I shall enlighten the philistines....

2006-01-19T18:51:00.000-08:00

Hey there True Believers! (please don't sue Stan)

I bring you news and candy from the vast and barren wastelands of cyberspace. (Matt X claims no responsibility for the validity of his claims of free candy. Should you feel let down by the lack of availability of said proverbial "candy", or perhaps some sense of entitlement, Matt Co. Inc. offers the following statement: TFB.)

I've been experiencing some computer trouble this past little while, but rest assured I'm back and better than ever. The revolution will not be stopped!! Or, um, televised. Anyway, I'm gonna hit you guys with another one of my brilliant works of wordsmithery.

This one's called Note to Self. It's pretty simple and straightforward, but I like it.

Note to Self

Write yourself a note
Tell yourself to be okay
Throw yourself a rope
Make the shadows go away
Give yourself a hand
Only quitters bow out now
Take it like a man
Self expressions not allowed

Do what they say
You don't believe
It's just not your day
I think you should leave

Mouths full of knives
Fists wet and red
No one survives
Inside their head

Don't stay down
Get back up

Get up
Stand up

Don't let them push you around
Come back swinging
Knock em down

Run through the fires
Tear down the walls
Don't trust the liars
You're on the ball

Write yourself a note
Tell yourself to get it right
You are made of hope
Things will be alright

Yeah it's sort of cheesy, but it's self affirming and all that sh%t. Shut up. I never liked you.

Help keep the youth of America from exploding

2006-01-14T06:53:00.000-08:00

(My apologies to Less Than Jake, from whose song title I stole the idea for this post. Please don't sue. I have nothing you would want)

Hello all. Time for another informative session of Matt says stuff. Brought to you by Matt Co unlimited and thanks to the support of my rage
and viewers like Bob. You should all be more like Bob.

Today I'd like to take a moment to address a serious issue afflicting the youth of today. I've seen this problem ignored far too long, and I feel it is my responsibility, nay my duty to address this most grievous blight on the countenance of decent society. That's right I'm talking about spontaneous combustion. This debilitating phenomena has been plaguing our youth since the early nineteenth century. Considered to be a societal taboo by many at the time, it was not often discussed, for fear that entertaining the notion would land the offending individual in an institution. Later on, as society's ideas about medical and psychological afflictions became somewhat more progressive, the subject did become a more open topic of discussion, but due to the somewhat repressed and stiffled culture of the early 20th century, a lot of incidents of SC remained unreported. It was considered by most to be a family affair, most people didn't want other people to know, for fear they would be judged. As a result, a lot of Spontaneous Combustion went on behind closed doors, so to speak. Bob Andersmithson, a completely real guy I did not make up for this post, recounts his firsthand experiences of living with SC during that colourful era most often referred to as the "good ole days" (Unless of course you happened to find yourself not to be an upperclass white heterosexual protestant male, in which case you most probably referred to those times as "those dark days of which we no longer speak").

"In those days, twasn't no great shakes fer a fella to just up an esplode on ya. I remember back in the summer of '42. Me an Sam Hawkins was standin round outside the ol fishing hole. We was just shootin the breeze, when alla the sudn' ol Sam, he just burst into flames. At first I thought he was pullin a prank on me. Sam was like that you see, a real card. Course then he started flailin his arms and runnin round like a chicken with his head cut off. That's when I knew somethin was up. So I grabbed my fishin pail and threw some water on 'im. That helped some. After the hubbub died down, I ast him if he was okay. He looked me straight in the eye an he says :"Weren't so bad, I've 'ad wurst" He was a tough'un that Sam."

"Course we didn't like to talk much bout such things. Weren't much need way we saw it. Wasn't nobodies bizness, it was between friends and all. Never saw no reason to make no fuss about it."

Nowadays of course, attitudes have changed greatly towards SC, it is no longer regarded as a topic that is off limits for disscusion. Nevertheless, there is still a great deal of education that needs to be done on the subject, especially to young children found to be SC positive. These children are most likely to be confused and troubled by their condition, as they are already attempting to gain the attention and acceptance of their peers. Too often those afflicted with it choose to suffer in (relative) silence (it's hard to be completely silent when you're on fire) because of feelings of guilt and uncertainty. They wonder why this is happening to them asking things like "Why do I keep catching fire for no reason?" "Do I explode because I'm a bad person?" "Does God hate me?" "Billy doesn't burst into flames at random, why do I?"

Oftentimes these kids try to hide their condition by dressing all in black, or by secretly carrying containers filled with water. They may even take up smoking, to mask the smell of burnt clothing. They are also often the object of scorn and ridicule, being labeled by their peers in such hurtful terms as "Burnt toast" or "Zippo head" The derogatory term "flamer" is also thought to have had it's genesis as a refference to an SC positive, as is the term "Liar, Liar, pants on fire", which sprang from the notion that anyone who burst into flames without warning was probably not to be trusted. Unfortunately, finding refuge no place else, many SC positive teens turn to street gangs. One such gang, the Afterburners, is thought to be responsible for many of the unsolved arson cases in the greater metropolitan area of Notmadeupton. Local residents often complain of being disturbed by loud crackling noises late at night, and many have reported seeing a redish glow along the main boulevards. If your child should start dressing all in black, and/or coming home late at night smelling vaguely of campfires, please be aware that this may be a cry for help.

What can you do to help fight this horrible affliction? Recently, great strides have been made in the research of this phenomena, and doctors are hopeful that a cure may be found within their lifetimes, however funding is low. In order to garner support and funding, we must strive to increase Spontaneous Combustion awareness. Wear the orange ribbon with the red flame symbol, and when someone asks you about it tell them "It's because I want to keep the youth from exploding!" This is sure to get there attention. If you hear someone use a slur like "Burny", or "Smokey" or tell an offensive joke like "Why did the Burny cross the road? Cuz he was on fire!" Stop the person and let them know that what they are doing is wrong. It is only through love and understanding that we can quell the flames of prejudice against SC sufferers.

If you or a family member would like to make a donation, please make your checks out to the Spontaneous Combustion Assosciation Members. Or send them to me and I'll pass them along.

Waxing poetic

2006-01-13T22:37:00.000-08:00

Hello. I don't imagine anyone actually read my last post, but if you did, here's where I make good on my promise and include some poetry I wrote. Feel free to avert your eyes, as I'm hardly the next Blake or Frost. Although I might be the next Ginsberg, seeing as how I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving, hysterical. They were watching MTV.

Anyway here goes. This one's called Buy U.
It's sort of an ode to capitalism.

At any given moment there are
a thousand spinning wheels,
spinning furiously to produce
their chaotic organization,
fervent momentum towards a common,
yet strangely non-communal goal.

Every individual instant
there are a million raised voices
spouting oxymoronic slogans
and endless hackneyed and empty idioms
that serve as a buffer
from compassion and understanding

Somehow there exists
this perpetual motion,
hands continually grasping,
clawing, pulling us forward
in the search for more wealth,
less meaning, more status
and less substance.

This cycle will continue,
unabated, into perpetuity.
They will be feeding the flames
of this fire even as they
themselves are consumed by them.

And when decay rots away
their greed and they fall
away into judgment
others will grow up
like weeds
to take their place.

If you can hear me
over the din
of the machinery
take heed:

Life is not for gold,
we are souls,
not solely bodies,
and there is a purpose
beyond consumption,
a world beyond this one
of gun-smoke
and plastic wrap.

.....Pretty wordy huh?
Or as the intellectuals say "verbose"
Let me know what you think Ye Philistines.

2006-01-12T00:19:00.000-08:00

Matt's Army: Conscription is low, but morale is high.

An Introduction

2006-01-11T21:36:00.000-08:00

Hello, I am new at this sort of thing so bear with me. Or at least be bare with me. Or possibly with bears, whatever floats your boat. My name is Matt and I was sent here from the future because I lost my keys. Have you seen them? They very much resemble keys. They may or may not be covered in blood. It's a long story.

What's that? You wanna know more about me and my various feats of resplendidnous?
Well I'm a graphic design student here in the great city of Montreal, Quebec. That's in Canada. If you're in the U.S., it's a little bit to the North of you.

My interests include video games, comic books, anime and manga. I also watch a lot of movies (when I'm not in school and actually have the time) since I work part time at a video store (Hey it pays the bills. It's better than doing phone sex. Or is it? Hmm....) Chances are if you heard of it I've seen it, and have a derisive, sardonic comment to make about the film, and quite possibly your person for having watched it.

I also love music, particularly rock and roll. I'm what you might call an audiophile, I must have my tunes and I've been known to listen to everything from punk and hardcore, to hip hop, jazz, soul, funk, electronica, folk, and yes even country (if I must).

I also am somewhat of a patron of the arts (heh heh, that's so pretentious). I have a diploma in Fine Arts, and as I mentioned am studying graphic design. I paint, draw, sculpt and do photo editing and computer imaging (No 3D graphics or web design yet, although I'm working on it)

I also sing a little, play the drums, write (both poetry and prose) and read as much as possible.

So yeah, that's about it. As mentioned this is my first go around at this whole blog thingy, so I've really no idea what it's supposed to entail. I plan on filling these pages with as much nonsensical gibberish as possible, along with my own poetry and drawings. Feel free to judge them and offer any comments or criticism's you like. Although keep in mind that doing so may result in my adding your name to my already lengthy "to kill list"