red skies

I am awake, not as much as i could be, but i am here.  The deep thaw of my conscious mind feels unsure, like traversing a rocky cliff face, ever-fearful of one misguided step, plunging me into the abyss.

I do not know if this is yet another momentary spark of cheap inspiration, or an ember of clarity.  Only now, as i type this, do i see them as the same source, however i have been too foolish to start a fire.

I am not myself, you see, i am merely the passenger of this vessel, and my coachman does not seem fond of communication.  It seems handy to blame the state of the vessel on the abstract driver, however, we only blame others in an effort to ignore responsibility for the sake of our fragile carriage.

This wont make sense to you, the reader, but thats fine, i'm talking to my coachman right now.  stay out of this.

I see the pot holes, i know they are there, i could speak up, i could alert the driver, but i have grown tired of being ignored, and so i have reluctantly sunk into my seat, self ritiously reflecting on every pothole, or errant path chosen that i could foresee, but upon which i did not act.  It wasnt my fault.  Its not my fault.

Yet, the potholes remain.

Assigned fault is a complexity, not a solution.  If nothing changes, the carriage will succumb, and i will be left only with my worthless ledger of blame.  Clarity can only be achieved through communication.  I must summon the resolve to be heard.

This carriage is capable of so much more, but tools are only as good as the hand that wields them.

Clarity.  Resolve.  Focus.  This small ember can grow.  I can grow it.

I am the coachman

My Big Brother

The following entry may not be my best writing, as i do not feel very creative today, however recent events have left me inspired and i fear that if i dont get them out that they may fade and want more than anything to chronicle my current train of thought. I apologize for the length. I had a lot to say.

Years ago, my brother and i decided to get an apartment together. As anyone would do in searching for an apartment, we found a few places that met our criteria and set out on a mission to perhaps consider each of them as our future home. We ventured forth on this quest of ours one day but as my brother dove us to our second stop we witnessed a car accident. I do not recall the details exactly, but it seemed a car had ran a red light and slammed in to the rear end of an older car that had seen better days. Upon impact the older cars trunk popped open, vomiting an assortment of clothing. Right away it was clear that the accident was minor and that nobody was hurt but as i sat there thinking to myself "man, thats gotta suck. That guy has to pick up all his shit right in the middle of that intersection", my brother already had his car door open, and was making his way towards the mess to help the guy gather his belongings. He reacted instantly without consideration for his own mission to view the afore mentioned apartment, or how it could possible set his day back. He just saw someone in need, and helped.

After the accident, i thought a great deal to myself why my brother did what he did. Even more so, HOW he did what he did.

I wouldnt say i was a selfish person back there, however i existed in a state where most of us find ourselves. We witness someone trying to reach the top shelf in a supermarket, or a backpack unzipped mere moments from spilling its vital contents, and we pass by considering, "should i, or shouldnt i help this person?". Carefully weighing the pros and cons of the situation. Only, by the time you have reached your conclusion the moment has passed. Perhaps this is the introvert in me talking, perhaps it is the selfish side of me taking hold. Either way, its how i thought back then.

It was clear to me right away that what my brother had done was a simple, yet amazing thing that i wished i could do. From that day forth i made it my own personal goal to react the same way he did that day.

This one incident in my life has taken hold, and created some rather radical (by my standards) decisions. Im going to tell you about two of them now. Not because i want to prove to you - the reader - that i am a good person. I do it only because if you hear these stories, perhaps this rogue idea will creep its way into your mind, and you too will find a calming resolve to lifes little problems. I start with a minor situation that required 5 seconds of my time.

A few weeks ago i was standing in the U-Scan check out lane, and the (extremely) old man in front of me had droped a rather large clutch of US currency. it was a a fold of 20 dollar bills about a quarter inch thick. My brain instantly formed a list of possibles, from "wait till he walks away, and keep the money" to "Dont do a thing. its none of your business". As i started to consider my options, my brothers effortless reaction came to me, and without hesitation, i bent down to pick up the fold and alert the man that he had dropped it.

A simple story to some of you, but a great achievement for me. my second story happened to me this morning, and is why i am currently writing this.

This morning as i exited the expressway i noticed a guy a little younger than me standing behind his car at the end of the exit ramp. It seemed his car had died, and he was attempting to push it on to the shoulder as to not impede the flow of traffic. Quicker than ever, i thought of that fabled day where my brother helped the mystery man collect his clothing off of the pavement. I pulled up behind my distressed mystery man, and asked if he needed help. With a sigh of relief he explained to me that he had ran out of gas. Before he could say another word, i had my cars hazard lights on, and was helping him push his car to safety. I offered him a ride to a gas station down the road where he could purchase a gallon of gas in a portable container and get back on the road. As we drove to the gas station, he explained to me that i was the only one who had even asked him if he needed help. This shocked me.

It was at this time that i realized that i was on the other side of the fence. My brothers actions years ago had finally taken root, and i no longer considered my own setbacks by helping an individual in need. For some of you, this may seem obvious, however is it really? If i were to have read this years ago, i would also conclude that helping was the right thing. But if you cant think of the last time you helped someone in need, then perhaps you should consider my brothers actions as i have.

It was a great feeling, helping this guy out today, but it made me wonder why nobody else stopped. Why didnt anyone else ask if this guy needed help? As i thought about this on my final leg to work, i came to a rather simple answer.

I suppose those people just didnt have a big brother as great as mine.

-Demo

Bitter sweet

The cappuccino i currently sip on isn't quite as bitter as i wished. Its hardly worth writing about but that seems to be a universal rule to interesting literature. (if you feel so obligated to besmirch the prestige of the word in comparison to what im doing here. which i do.)

A not-so-recent trend of mine is to ignore my duties of updating this site with mostly belligerent, sometimes tasteful mind vomit. The unfortunate truth is that i have nothing to write about. I find it easy (almost necessary) to write about downtrodden and blight, however i find it in short supply these days. It seems i am happy.

I came to this conclusion a few days ago, and upon realizing this ridicules string of facts, i became frustrated and wanted to write about it. Its an interesting idea to which i feel i need more time to consider before i can truly articulate the circus-like fucked situation i have woven for myself.

If i do not update within 24 hours, it means i am truly happy in life, and for this, you should shed a tear.

-Demo

Habbitual Failure

Every morning i run the same gauntlet of tasks, however sometimes my brainmeats throw rotten thoughts into the equation and mess everything up.

This morning was no different.

The afore mentioned event that so gracefully (and unexpectedly) ground my morning to a unfortunate halt stems from the fact that two unlikely keys neighbor each other on my keyboard. One is the key i use to select my network settings (home or office) and the other instructs my laptop to hibernate. Considering i use both keys quite frequently, its hard to form a pattern associated with this step in my morning ritual, which is unfortunate because when it comes to little tasks like this i usually zone out completely and just do what feels natural.

I hadnt had any coffee yesterday because the weekend whiskey had burned a portal to hell in the inner lining of my stomach, and (much to my chagrin) tossing coffee (gas) in my stomach (fire) would have resulted in bad (death?!?). This being said, i was really enjoying my morning espresso. I had just locked KMFDM - Nihil into the cd player and kicked open new tabs on all my favorite web comics when i went to select my network settings.

NO! FAIL! HIBERNATE!

a deadly buzzkill that i blame entirely on the placement of my keys. And i thought my list of "things that are out to get me" was complete.

-Demo

Bloggery

cant think. head beetles taking over.

its late. that never got in my way before but thiungs have changed. age is setting in and all the fix'n that come with such a thing. reguardless, thats not why im here right now. I am currently moving all my blog entires to blogger.com (to which i am half way through).

train derailed.

Im going to sit back and watch the boondocks for the next 30 min. I'll get back to updating my blog entires tomorrow.

Brad has lady parts

Brad. step up. Seriously.

-Demo

Purge

I just had my first morning coffee-shit. Im not going to define what that is because i fell it deems a certain sense of mystery. Instead i will only imply a wink to those caffeine guzzling "in-the-know" office workers that have been able to rely on that 15 min block of time every morning, so accurate that you have an outlook alert reminding you of your impending bowel disaster.

its clockwork.

Not much of a blog entry i know, but it hints at my current state in this metamorphosis of becoming one of you people.

-Demo

Re-Rebirth

The hands of his watch proudly displayed the time over a large emblem that read “1 GB”. It was 9:45. Hardly early. Demo began to sit and think about a mantra he regularly proclaimed all those late nights forging something form nothing in front of his computer; “No Rest for the Wicked”. He hadn’t been wicked lately. Going to bed at midnight, waking up at 10am. His actions were that of a lazy house cat. But all things come to an end.

Recently, Demo had scored a job writing code for a datacenter and Monday was his first day on the task. Its funny how a mundane task such as getting up at an early hour can be so exciting to someone who hasn’t dealt with an hour so early in over 5 years. The idea of beating the sun off the line, and working out of an office on State street (down town Ann arbor) was all Demo had wanted, and more. His high caffeine, low sleep diet had returned, and so did the spark. He had gotten to comfortable with no bounds to restrain him.

No Rest for the Wicked.

-Demo

fin

FUCK

i was wrong. tomorrow came and went, and now yesterday seems like forever ago. It seems i've lost the insanity i once charisised so god damn mu8chy. I need to regain what once was mine. My friends are all in boxes, and i assume have had their hand in my lost grip of the etended reaches of my mind, so i shall unleesh them out of fear of becoming normal. Perhaps them, my army of delicate soldiers, will reform my brainmeats. One can only hope.

Today i build. Hopfully i can construct a working NED for to keep track of my plans. I need a place to scribble my thoughts, and it seems the old NED lay in ruins. It has been re-built to many times, and requires a complete ground up type go. This will be the last post on the old site, as i need to motivate myself, and coffee + beethoven will only take me so far.

Thus the site.

"I have never thought of writing for reputation and honor. What I have in my heart must come out; that is the reason why I compose." - Beethoven

The trouble with retarded middle-aged women...

CUNT. WHORE. BITCH.

I cant shake this anger that remains perched on my back like a well armed anger-monkey.

This morning began all well and fine, but thats not the topic of this story. NOOOOO no. today im here too weave a tale of sheer anger, with a one woman cast of retards.

Today, as i drove to work, i was behind a minivan. Not just any minivan mind you, this minivan would prove to be piloted by a gossiping, Oprah watching, mindless piece of cunt. Even worse, she was on a cellphone.

Getting off on the telegraph road exit, i cannot see anything in front of her. No matter, as a driver it is her duty to watch the road. everyone knows this, right?

Apparently she didnt.

BREAK LIGHTS. TIRES SQUEEL.

i react. swerve to the right, and lock em up, which puts me directly next to the unpredictable 40 year old bag of bon-bons. At which time, she decides: "OMGOMGOMGPOMGMOGOMGOMGOGMOGMG SWERVE INTO THE ESCORT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

smooth bitch. way smooth.

Once again, i react. Like a battle scene out of mad max, she forces me onto the hill next to the express way, to which i am then forced to accelerate ahead of her, so i can clear the overpass pillions. if i would not have done that, i would be something resembling a red paste with bits of ford escort protruding from every which way.

Strange thing is, the whole time this is happening, no adrenaline. no shaky hands. no panic. all i could think was "you stupid cunt."

whoever you are, i hope you do the same thing to someone with an anger problem and a handgun.

-Demo

Hawks cant swim :(

i watched a hawk try and drink water out of my next door neighbors faggoty little pond today for about 4 minutes. it tried landing in the water twice.

he shouldn't join the varsity swim team anytime soon.

fucking people and their fucking stupid bullshit trucks. i would imagine since i live light years closer to work now, i would encounter less stupidity. It stands to reason, the less you are on the road, the less you would have to dodge the in-bread moron driving the pimped out hillbilly battle-truck that slammed on his breaks because he saw a cop 4 miles away on the other side of the divided highway.

WRONG. SO FUCKING WRONG.

Cletis - with his 3 Confederate flags, sticker of Calvin pissing on 13 logos, and mysterious chunks of useless slag sliding dangerously around in the half rusted out "bed" of his "truck" - seems to have called his friends for backup. They know I've moved, and they've concentrated their forces on my morning 5 mile commute. I'd wage war, but his inbred family of reckless endangerment already owns over 50% of the weapons in the tri-state area.

*sigh* i think i have to shit again. what a day, what a day.

Fear and loathing on 96 aside, i was swept off my feet by some disheartening news today. My favorite win32 tool making duo (www.sysinternals.com) has been acquired by Microsoft. A sad day for windows developers everywhere.

*the eagle sheds a single tear*

what will become of me?

Emo Demo

Deathquake2006 (TM)

i was going to title this piece "deathquack" but i thought "deathquake" sounded tougher. once i tuned that bitchn title up with the year, i almost fell out of my seat.

you are in the presence of a god (title)

anyshit, its been months of busy, weeks of heat, days of moving and hours of lack of car/internet... but im back.

Ive been spackling some shit and poo that will inevitably make the website better. the new design is underway (but i think i lost the original copy, so i may have to completely remake it. i know. gay. i blame the smurf female. she will be the first to feel my wrath)

Its less hot than Africa today, which is a good sign. A change of pace from all the other signs (of the apocalypse) we've been having.

Party next weekend for anyone who gives a fuck. for those who dont, i could care less. you're a fucking ass fucktard piece of shit in my book, and my book was written by The Immortals with the blood of the ancient red dragons of Zel'Baki, in the script to which only the keepers of the Legendary Masonite Hammer of Gordar can decypher.

ya. i win. your party sucks, ours rules. eat a dick ok bye.

-Demokins

wow. just wow.

Download Trailer

OH EM EFF GEE

The ability to judge color

The type of red that told him it was swimming 24 hours ago. It was the best thing in the microfreeze, so he ordered too much. zero worry. He loved fresh tuna.

The place was devoid of customers, which left plenty of room for atmosphere. Demo pretended to be in Tokyo again, lost in the maze-like allies of Shinjuku West. It felt good to be back among the chaos of the pachinko parlors and long coat karaoke wranglers.

English... fuck. Like a dream Shinjuku was gone, replaced by a Japanese girl smiling, speaking perfect English. She was there to deliver the miso. In perfect American form she placed the bowl lazily down forcing him to rearrange everything. He bit down hard on a Japanese faze of thanks. She wouldn’t understand anyway.

He thought long about the past few days. Eventful and unexpected as they were, he enjoyed every minute. He was getting in deep when the display on his Nokia flashed "Bradthx". That’s when he realized it had been days since he talked with brad. He thumbed a button, and the device came alive. "Hey Hey". The Usual ACK/SYN. Conversation between them was a dance of reference and obfuscation. The introduction of the "Cryptonomicon" into each of their lives had changed the way they would communicate forever. No straight talk. Everything broke apart and forced down a mental 3DES tunnel. Secure. Not because they needed it, because it was fun.

The conversation lasted. Lots to talk about, but the sushi was gone, and Demo needed some go juice. He dropped the call, and threw money at 3 people. America was funny like that. Gotta tip everyone.

"Quad latte. Make it big", he thought, but it came out edited. "Large latte. Extra shot". Most coffee jockeys didn’t understand when you requested a quad anything, so he was forced to order in long form. Brief exchange of paper for caffeine, and he was go.

He forced his backpack to vomit its contents all over the table. A digital graveyard of technology took shape. Demo started hitting power buttons. Like a necromancer breathing life into a boneyard, the table was his army of undead. He kicked open a few tunnels to servers across the world, and collected information for his night of assembling code. The Nokia was dancing again, this time it cautioned "Fay". The expected call of the night. Fay was working on an optics bird for google. A tall order, but nothing he couldn’t handle. The two would meet and talk about technology every week or so as a sort of mental business vacation. He'd be there in 20 minutes.

An amazing piece of talent destroyed the focus Demo had on his deck. Tall, thin legs. Unique face. She dressed exactly the way she needed to, but made it look like an accident. Demo saw the guy next to him notice the talent. They exchanged a secret smirk. It was a complete conversation in one volley of expression.

Just in time. Fay arrived and the two talked for hours. By this time, Demo didn’t want to type anymore.

::CLEANING_CYCLE_COMPLETE::

Demo woke many times throughout the day, this being the first his head wasn't spinning from the night before. It was dark in the room, which meant for the same outside. He glanced over at the vaccum fluorescent display. It read 8:21P. Perfect.

Demo rolled, and forced his body to move. He worked his legs as a hatchling first using its wings. There was no pain anymore but no feedback either. His head was clear but empty. It had taken all day, but his body had filtered out all the poisons he had pushed through it, which caused a reboot. Now it was time to load.

The shower was cool... refreshing... but he didn't spend much time there. He was in a silent hurry, being driven by an unknown source. He enjoyed this, for he always felt he represented a large potential force, with absolutely nothing to drive him. But now there was an unidentified gravitation that focused him to a laser point, cutting through space. He put on his pants, and packed his gear... and then he was ghost.

3 blocks and many subconscious bouts of warfare later, he was at his den. A haunt which supplied caffeine and net access. The two things he felt naked without. He ordered something that sounded intrinsic and long winded with 4 shots of go-juice. He was ready, prepped for battle. He punched in his password, and dove in.

Lights flashing in representation of his current work load, he sat back and waited. His deck wasn't as fast as it should be, but he didn't have the goods to tune it right now. Regardless, this gave him time to survey the biomass that surrounded him. Many faces. Avatars for many minds, all of them meat. One girl was desperately trying to clean a table in attempt to prepare a valid work environment for her (almost clinical) discriminating taste. Demo noticed her shirt, which was designed to cause focus on her breasts. He hated when he caught his testosterone poking through his mental firewall. Pointless. He focused on the lifebook and began his work.

9am special

Light.

It was 9am. The bright glow of the omni-lights lining Demos bed confirmed it. Blindly, he reached up and thumbed a switch on a flat device to kill the flood. Morning was here, and there was nothing he could do about it. Demo sat up, taking the open book labeled "Network Intrusion Detection (Second Edition)" off his chest, careful to keep his place from the night before. Without thought, his arm swung back and grasped for a can of coffee covered with Kanji. While slamming the import in one quick action, he leaned over and pressed a key on his deck. Two seconds later, a stream of music from London was piped into the room. He rubbed his eyes once, and grabbed the copy of "Neruomancer" with a marker stuffed about 150 pages deep. For the next hour, he was somewhere else.

3 chapters later, Demo was reluctant, but ready to enter reality. Pulling out his chair, he opened a small tin labeled "Penguin mints" and consumed 3 tabs of self destruction. They dissolved in his mouth, releasing chemical dependency into his blood. He punched deck.

A message from V.

The info he needed for the contact in China. Just in time too. The Chinese government was starting to develop laws on VoIP, and he wanted to sneak in before the curtain came down. He forged a friendly letter to his contact, dripping with digital honey. The technology was good, it would fit them like micropore, if only they'd hear him out. He proofed it twice, then hit "go".

Minutes ticked, he blacked for 20 of them. After a few brief conversations with friends, he packed 2 books, and his lifebook. As he left his room, lights turned off, monitors went black, and the stream from London flat lined. They would save their energy for his return.

Rehab. they're back

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Skillet_Warrior
Date: Oct 18, 2005 12:22 PM

lemme start off by saying i absolutly love "Southern Discomfort". theres not a single song on that album i skip over when its in my cd player. When i first came across that CD, it wasnt removed from my deck for a solid month. (and it still remains among the top 10 in my book of many)

That being said, i just stumbled across you guys on mysapce and didnt even know you had a new CD out, so i jumped at the idea of adding you to my list. I listened to the songs you have up and actualy had to double check if this was the same Rehab i loved. Sure enough, it is. What happened? i mean, you guys still sound good and all, but it seems you went a little main stream. You had such a unique sound on "Southern Discomfort" i often had trouble trying to describe your music to friends, resulting in a "just listen to this goddamn CD" which often resulted in their bewilderment.

I guess, to boil it down, im asking:
A) are you guys going to put out a CD like "Southern Discomfort" ever again? or is that the last of this style?

B)This is all at first glance, so please correct me if im wrong. I havent really given the new songs a chance yet... but damn.... "Southern Discomfort" was really fuckn good.

-Jim
----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: REHAB
Date: Oct 18, 2005 12:38 PM

Thanks skillet warrior
Southern discomfort is a classic and unfort like a lot of underground classics , it only sold 140 thousand units ,. no matter how good it was and no matter how long you and other people kept it in their cd players.
Yes this is the same Rehab . it is Danny . go to www.rehabmusic.com and stream 6 of the songs for free before buying the new record .
this is more of a band and less beats , its a bit more musical ,but same subject matter ,listen to the lyrics , songs like graffiti the world , we are doing this independennt of all labels and we gotta try to eat . unfort 140 thousand records means beeing broke and losing your house
I hope this email has shed a little lighton your question . listen to our music with open mind and realize that every one revolves , we hope you do too.
Peace
Rehab
----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Skillet_Warrior
Date: Oct 18, 2005 12:46 PM

Thanks for the quick responce.

I'll hit your website and give it a go. That really is a bummer that it only sold 140,000 records. I honestly cant imagine why. At the risk of sounding cliche', maybe you guys were ahead of your time. People listen to music execs, not the music itself. Trends are hard to kill, even the shitty ones.

I'll give the new CD a try. I know you guys wont let me down. Your lyrics and mood is what drove "Southern Discomfort", and im sure that will shine through in your new release.

thanks again for the reply.

-Jim
----------------- Original Message -----------------
Date: Oct 18, 2005 12:53 PM
Subject: RE: RE: RE: what happened?
Body: any time , And you are right , souther discomfort was ahead of its time , we couldnt even get a second single on radio ,and that is why we left the Executives and the freaking label (sony) so now we do this our way,but we gotta get in the door first to break the Barriers down , so maybe thats why we get a little defensive when people go back to the first Album , we just want to break to Norm , get on top and then switch it up . gotta play them the way they been playin US . But i assure you we didnt sell out or we would have resigned or stayed on a major label .

Thanks for the support '
Let me know what you think of the new album , when you have spent some real time with it .
good or bad

link for fuct

I was IMed this link just now, and instantly thought of you.

"I have to show this link to my brother. He'll explode with violent laughter."

http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/Content?oid=23399

-Demo

Design Ideas

I was playing around with a few new layout ideas. With all the new options i want to build into the site, its becoming overwhelmingly clear how much i need to revamp the layout. While im at it, i figure i might take a stab at a face lift. I made this graphic tonight, and im pretty happy with how simple i kept it. I tend to over design things. After playing with it for a bit, i came up with this simple layout, with the words "Social Virus". I liked the idea of information being socially spread without someone even knowing. Slowly taking over, like some kind of subconscious voice. Anyway, heres the graphic. I may run with this for the new design.

-Demo