back behind the barricade, the barracuda bites at my brain, the buyout of buoyancy to balance a book or two, before beginning to face a bitter embrace. beneath the binary, do I boast or bury in a busy blush. do I block a bruise, do I better myself from break or bend. beckons, the cocoon. can I covertly circumvent context, or do I merely cover conviviality with continual cortex concern. come come, cozy yourself and connect with my disconnected, discombobulated, disorganized dig-down doozy of a dugout.
Welcome back! I'm your new Oprah, yet again! Snatching the mantle for smithing my opinions and thoughts into self-help (or just media recommendations) once more! Read on for the new and renewed HOH Magazine!!
Here I am, on the precipice of my chrysalis.Pressing against the dried, transparent walls of my cocoon. Can you see my coloration? I don't worry about what shape or decoration I will take when I emerge but the shape of the world I'm emerging into. But then again, just as all acting is reacting, I don't actually give a fuck about what shape your petty, fetid world is in. It is not mine to control, so what matter should I give to my mind over its form? I guess the tables turned, the facade is down: I do truly, actually worry what shape I will become. How I will be pressed and molded as I molt and shed, poked and bled by this greedy machine of consumption. I'd hope it's "as an avenging angel doing the work of God." But how do I guide that hope – that intention – into practice? Such notions make wrestling matches in my mind, the spectacle of thought.
If I haven't stated it so clearly before, then here: This world was not made for me but I belong in it.
"Record Recommendation / Hey 'Sup From Quarantine"
[Drafted as March 8, 2018:] Hey readers, I'm still here. I'm taking an hiatus because, like, ugh. I'm either lazy or busy or both these days. I'll still be doing the backlogged months. I'll get to them. The templates are there, some of them have half-cocked paragraphs or lists.
[Drafter as November 19th, 2020:] Hey readers, I want to use this again. I want to bring HOH Magazine back, with a more lax restructuring that would allow me to not feel weighted down by it, but excited by it instead. But I will also, for now, be using this as a space to make blog posts of a general sort.
Hey, in fact, this Hiatus Post was half-cooked with tags recommending an album that is a favorite of mine. I've been doing something similar in the Isolation Nation feature over on LewtonBus.net. Please check them out.
I never actually talked about Suego Faults by Wolf Gang for Isolation Nation. I haven't listened to the record in full in quite a while...maybe I have during Quarantine...I'm not so sure. But it is a great album worthy of recommendation. The more I listened to it the better it got, and now it's a top favorite. I know nothing of the band, nor have I seen a music video, recorded live performance, or even know of any other records they may have.
This is intentional, even if I'm missing out: the allure creates a thick perfume around it, an aura that sustains a magical quality of That New Sound, that keeps it floating in this little pocket where it is what it is, and what it is spreads out like roots into branches in my mind as I see visions of movie ideas, beautiful locales, and communication with the mental projection of my affection: a correspondence with a pedestal I need to take out from under. This album seems to alternate between fantastic scenarios of grand adventure and longing, love, and remorse. Where are you now? Back to back, we're stronger. I keep trying to move on; there's something in the way...
Listen to it!
Anyway, now that the 2018 intention of this post draft has been fulfilled, the 2020 intention of this post draft is: I'm going to post here more often now, cool? It hasn't been that long since 2018, yeah?
July.I'll begin by exclaiming that I've been in (and on) the water more times this summer than any summer for many a recent year. Partly for filming Detective P.I., partly for vacation, or at least vacation-adjacent, purposes. I've grown accustomed to swimming in lakes in the last seven years, even though I still dislike lakes for various reasons. Hey, let's make that the first topic: David critiques Minnesota's most popular natural resource! (Yeah that's right, get bent, iron!)
Well, it's June July but this is the May issue.This is how we work, until I figure out how to "indulge less." I strive to deliver good content, and I don't joke around: this is a hefty magazine. I've got a lot on my mind. Snuffles want to be understood; Snuffles need to be understood. But I never promised anything about being on time. This is something I make in the gaps of time I can fill, and I don't have many, as things keep cropping up every day. Like plowing through a field and you keep finding gold you gotta deal with. Anyway, we'll only cover May affairs. But maybe we'll group all of summer for expedience's sake? Or I'll just write less/phone it in. Who knows!!
I have been on a break,from many a project. Things I'll "do shortly" became "get around to eventually" because I'm prioritizing being with friends these days. Creatively I'm letting myself down, but it's all the same to procrastination. Procrastination is simply (or, put simplistically) the attention paid to distractions and diversions. This is even one of those. A distracting new project that isn't much worth prioritizing, yet feels like a thing I can bang out in a day, tapping away though, as I do now, when I have a moment of inspiration, a knowledge of what exactly to put down.
(And yet this paragraph is like a week and a half old now...More inside!)
![cover of HOH - The David Magazine. Photo is of my face on the body of John Trent from the beginning of John Carpenter's 'In The Mouth Of Madness' curled in a ball in a padded cell, with crosses drawn all over the walls, his scrubs, and his skin (and my face) with black crayon. I also have a snail climbing on my head and on my (Trent's) arm. Big headline: OOPS! I DID IT AGAIN! I needed another cocoon... ...because you needed another election with a treasonous nazi rapist on the ballot, for some fucking ungodly reason that will never be held accountable in utter defiance of what is right. Under the magazine's logo it says: Special Stream-of-Consciousness Edition. in the lower left corner, with a semi-transparent white tiger superimposed behind it, is a gold sawtooth circle saying: BONUS: TWO music analysis essays inside!! and a headline in the lower righthand corner reads: SOCIAL MEDIA BLACKOUT: WHAT XXV DAYS WITHOUT NEWS DOES TO A MF [MENTALLY-ILL FRIEND]. It also says “…and by God, some breakthroughs!!” in the lower left corner.](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzQePm9aN5eoTyy7iuFuZeZeUQ1c-Oc3tf987iDNT9xd_LJergWAh2vaVGuhP0qUzsGjwfC5UzkfNeujPDzrbe3dspPi6MwgbrDfDR6WXJvpQaV4KjnIMoqgMMSnzkB9SXjRrYJlBULPFrl81nVK8AfxGH0VJvcs-ngnnJZ7TAv2BIfXnm_3Il0QG8y5s/s1164/HOH%20Mag%20Cover%20for%20Cocoon%202.png "welcome to my padded cell")
