Today You Get To Say 'I Told You So'

by A.E. Paulino

I've been in the dead end of cave
caved in, I've been there with nothing of more
than a dull flame, asthmatic light almost out of lung
dullest makes gray separate from black
and to that extends its reach
thinking my gray a brilliant white
because its all available with nothing
of true light to compare against

all at once a scalpel dissects cave walls
and pure sunlight burns eyes to the back
of my dark vibrating mind
I sit and can't find that dull little flame
where has it gone and I remember
how clear it shone out in that absolute of cave

now I walk forward wishing to not squint
through eyelids like a veil over whispered-open eyes
I can't see anything but I know its clear and true
bright warmth on my face
embracing me back into a world
a world long from a detention
where I've been kept and made to miss
all the beams and rays that intensified
in between the days I've been caved
now in extreme fires of sunlight
am I made to adjust.

its also a question.

The Drowning Man

by A.E. Paulino

I heard the last roar of the storm
before an obsidian wave,
streaked by silver reflections of moon,
swallowed me under.
A crash cymbal in reverse
as ocean sucked me down.

Dark sea, the siren's song,
a panic of sudden loneliness
in a cold abysmal, I'm taken.
Life reaches upwards,
struggle drags me fathoms further,
I see nothing.

Still, my breath is held
and water does not fill my lungs

Though I cannot collect a visable assembly,
I know my ship is still in tact.
I must reach her.

On the surface, shoved every which way
by dark waves and pounding winds;
she won't break, certainty of such
becomes air for me.
Above she holds together by all
that gathered the strength of her framework.
Under, I push and pull
as harrowing tempests of desperation grip me.

To control less, to let go and abandon,
this lifts the body back to her;
yet, death consults without logic
inspires anxiety and weight as I sink.

Unless I float I'm not worth
a return to shore with her.

The Diary of Iris-Aurelie: 1

twelve days left.
she has been captured. throughout the palace halls, the daily shuffle of voices and commands haunt the silence that replaces them at hours of deep night. after dinner the air stood quite still. they announce the trial was to be held twelve days from now. so i began this log. a pain has begun to sting my stomach, must've been something I ate.

Sound Kisses Sight

Crack The Skye is the title of Mastodon's new album. More yelling than growling, more solos, and as always solid consistency from song to song with a theme and amazing artwork to joint it all together. Paul A. Romano who has handled all their album artwork since Lifesblood (2001) to the aforementioned Crack The Skye, completes the dark and damp aesthetic of the band.



The sound reminds me of a swamp; in fact, it reminds me of Swamp Thing, a sludge of many natural things cohesively held together to form a clear, discernible figure, that at first glance might frighten the observer. Swamp Thing, like Mastodon's sound, is also intelligent; he was a scientist named Alex Olsen. Dr. Olsen was accidentally exposed to chemicals that altered his physical and biological appearance. By accident, I mean that it was accidental he lived; as it was Damian Ridge's intention to kill his colleague.


Um. back to Mastodon. (The inner geek sometimes gets out of hand).

I love when music and art wed one another. Yes and Roger Dean, Radiohead and Stanley Donwood, Tool and Adam Jones, Converge and Jacob Bannon, even Aesop Rock's recent steady collaboration with Jeremy Fish or The Mars Volta's to Jeff Jordan seems a match made in mathematic precision of perfection. It gets to the point when you see the art and in your head the music immediately hums to life; or vise versa, when you listen to the music and images of the particular corresponding artist pass over your mind's gallery. With the obvious exceptions of Bannon and Jones who are part of the Band they create art for, the remainder I listed hold a certain intimate affiliation, as if they were part of the band or artist. In many ways they are and in this information age of downloading and dematerialized consumption of media I find it valuable to the tangible CD, when thought and creativity is poured onto the concept of the artwork and how it relates to the album itself.

March Heart Beats for Lhasa De Sela

l'amo. quiziera vivir en esta canción.

Sketch of Madame Iris-Aurelie

Awkward To Be Human...Too many Hard Feelings

My Monthly Aresian Horoscope
March 21 - April 19

You'll be sitting and watching those around you in a cafe or diner of sorts. You'll be tired and drifting between thoughts that haze rapidly like overcast clouds, spreading above the weather of your mind. With friends, you'll sit and listen when distractions silently allow you to and tiny accumulations of boredom will no doubt begin to toll the borders of tolerance. Its rather dark and cool in the cafe or diner, with candles at each table to warm you up for the bad service. When the waiter finally waits you'll order some food and possibly eat it too fast and constantly wonder what you're still doing there. Sitting. Thinking. Barely participating in conversation, adding a joke or addendum but never initiating the body of discourse, never staking too much in its practice. What is it you want? Where is it you'd rather be? You can't help but know it isn't above that seat and under that dark ceiling nourished by some french music; interlaced with voices all crumpled together like a page with an error that looks at you and blames you for its existence. You want to get up and exit, alone. You'll leave the money for what you ordered on the table and go home. You wonder if your friends will be hurt by this behavior but you don't feel guilty or shameful for feeling as you do. You want to leave them.

Amnesiac Werewolf

Red Moon
by The Walkmen
from the album You & Me
released August 19, 2008

The red moon is rising behind you
The ocean is pounding away
I held up a light to the smoke but
The wind blows
Blows it away

And the night is cold
And the clouds go by
Tomorrow morning
I hope to be home
By your side

The riptide is pulling me under
I’m drifting, drifting away
Tomorrow the sun will be brighter
The water will rise and wash us away

But the stars are cold
And the air is bright
And I see you now
You shine like the steel on my knife
The darkness is wrapped all around me tonight

I miss you
I miss you there’s no one else
I do
I do

Watching The Watchmen

Just a warning to those who have not read or seen the movie, I do disclose information that may very well spoil the movie for you.

I saw the Watchmen at the first minute of March 6, 2009. Yes, by no plan of mine did I agree to join the movie zealots who could not wait for an actual sun to introduce friday as the opening day. I don't want to fully dress the description of the event only to sharply nake its conclusion, so I'll just tell you I was not impressed.

Maybe I mayn't find the exact qualifications to call myself a fan of The Watchmen but beside the fact that I've only read the graphic novel one and a half times (rather recently may I add); I do read and I do watch films. I immediately loved Alan Moore's creation of an alternate world where costumed heroes exist and the realistic consequences of that factual circumstance. After reading the graphic novel I had to look through it once again, since I was so immersed in the writing that I at times forgot to take in Dave Gibbons' wonderful and classic images and direction. And I knew the movie adaptation would not be able to completely replicate the graphic novel, a medium fully made use of by Moore and Gibbons who stocked their world with history and depth through supplementary material between chapters and further fermented the richness of the plot and theme with The Tales of The Black Freighter, a comic book within the graphic novel that interwove with the events occurring in the story. And while its true that adaptions of written works onto films usually stumble short and shy of its source, there is still something to be said of a well executed screenplay and director who can translate the emotions and atmospheres of the written work and re-establish their counter-part onto film. Zack Snyder did not succeed in accomplishing this.

It is my opinion that sequence leads to consequence, that consequence is made up only of all sequences prior. Everything in the present is the ultimate result of everything that came before it, becoming in itself another sequence for a later consequence. To build the world and story of The Watchmen, which tenses and leads to a sweltering climax, one must carefully plant the sequences. The handling of the subtle information that should collect and cancer itself into the tension of a climax and the release of a resolution must be essentially considered. If executed properly, from the bright glow of the climax, like a mushroom cloud shall the consequence bloom a full, fertile tree. One easily felt bored by the characters and their conflicts, leaving one a bit apathetic and misunderstanding to their reactions. For instance, when Laurie breaks down and cries when John discloses to her that she is infact the daughter of Eddie Blake, The Comedian, her reaction is just as out of place as Dan's when Rorshach is burst apart by Dr. Manhattan. Laurie's hatred for Edward Blake was not emphasized enough for such a reaction nor was the bond between Rorschach and Niteowl (Dan). There was not enough emotional depth to the characters in the movie to validate these passionate outbursts. Rorschach and John were the gems of the movie but even Rorschach's set-up capture at Moloch's apartment and John's interview trailed steam where fire should've blazed. Yet, we were not deprived anything during Dan and Laurie's sex scene aboard Archie. A scene too long and slow for comfort. Immediately recalling Snyder's slow-motion sex scene between King Leonidas and Queen Gorgo in 300. And even though, I could have done without it in 300 it wasn't as crude and awkward as Niteowl and Silk Spectre II piping aboard poor Archimedes in slow motion as if we the audience should savor the visual sensation, which consists of no more than Niteowl and Silk Spectre II's facial and bodily writhing through a cool-blue camera filter.

Regardless of what may've been said of 300 I did enjoy it and still do watch the DVD from time to time. Zack Snyder's style does work depending on what the movie calls for. The slow-motion accents of actions, the color, and the camera direction; these were areas that annoyed me about The Watchmen movie yet coincidently, they were also the points I found interesting in 300. You can't cook a steak the same way you fry an egg, even if you use the same pan.

As I sat there watching the movie I felt stationed somewhere between restless and listless because, having read the graphic novel, I knew what was going to happen and the compensation of an interesting transposition from literature to film did not acquaint. The ending was slightly altered, this I didn't mind; but by failure of the story and direction to carefully present everything that leads us forward to the end in a compelling fashion, did its impact suffer. The Watchmen is a great graphic novel, I don't see why it shouldn't have been a great film. As far as the story, of course its good, could anything else be expected since it follows the graphic novel, only omitting minor details that may be more important than realized. The film definitely wasn't butchered and I believe its only those who, wished for an equivalent department of reverence for the film to board adjacent to the reverence residing on the written work itself, that will be disppointed. And why shouldn't they? No compromise. Unfortunately, this leaves a huge blood stain, like a crimson ink blot on the clear white snow of your impression.