Musashi Mix Inq

Palliativity 123: Dr. Seuss

Posted on March 24, 2011

waiting for the signal from home

“ Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple. ”  -Dr. Seuss

0+>

Palliativity 121: The Chrysanthemum Throne

Posted on March 10, 2011

Yamamoto Farm — Rosemead, California, 1929

Chrysanthemums are the flower of the imperial seal. My family had fields of them, not that the government needed any evidence to imprison my family…

Pictured above is the homestead I'll never know— captured in a panorama before the war. I am always comforted to see my family's smiles and grand fortune in the dustbowl of American life. Though the Depression was a time most Americans would rather forget, my family was living their American Dream.

The homestead

The American Dream

d

d

d

d

d

d

d

d

The Golden Age of a life interrupted.

Imperial Seal

0+>

Palliativity 120: Self Injection

Posted on March 3, 2011

Self Injection

Chronic-pain isn't a diagnosis, it's a Lifestyle.

0+>

Filed under: Art, Blog, Pain, Q No Comments

Palliativity 119: Neo-Victorian & Retro-Future

Posted on February 24, 2011

There are ruddy-bloody Snakes on this ruddy-bloody Dirigible!!!

Airships to the Orient. Wind-up rockets to the moon. Goggles, monocles and top-hats. Velcro, spandex and jetpacks.

Steam-powered adventures and rocket-fueled nights.

Romancing the world in a dance of oblivion, we settle for the dreams of another age. A simpler time when Capitalism fought Communism. A more elegant age of colonies and spices.

Escapism from the information deluge with Jules Verne and Asimov. Cyberpunk in the boredom of a child with a tablet pc in its lap.

We've been to the moon and 20,000 leagues under. We've obliterated the atom and mapped the darkest jungle.

Don't rest on Apathy, the god of laziness. Be clever and always pushing limits— fool Father-Time:

Make tomorrow come today.

0+>

Palliativity 118: Nos Omnes Mundum Creamus

Posted on February 17, 2011

We All Make the World, ©MMXI

"He who is conceived in a cage, yearns for the cage."
Yevgeny Yevtushenko

Where are we going?

The crucible that is America: a battlefield. This pound of flesh is past warranty. Face down in the trenches, we are all scared to pop-up after the covery-fire. No matter how many have fallen before, we have yet to learn self respect— defiance with due dilligence.

The American soldiers of Japanese ancestry in WWII were thrown into the European Theater ahead of the frontline. Their bodies piled up high enough that their families could climb atop their sacrifice, over the fences and wire— only to find themselves alone in the desert, forgotten.

For generations, we buried it all.

Like the bullet fired from a riffle, we couldn't warn the next immigrant group before the hammer fell on their heads. Our flight from the camps was shrouded in shame and fear. We could barely look at our selves.

Advocacy is what I see as the most important reason to have Days of Remembrance. The hate behind Executive Order 9066 lives on in the continued marginalization of those on American shores.

It's time to jump the fence.

0+>-------------------------------------

Palliativity 117: Wishing

Posted on February 10, 2011

Daruma: it's merely a flesh wound

Sometimes I wonder what it's like to lose control— Watching a top spinning out just before it falls, a seductive dance between gravity and inertia. Entropy in the swaying hips of a lover; the catch of breath before the end.

I used to think that the battery-acid feeling of dread I experienced on occasion was tachyons surging backwards from the inevitable. Once you've split the atom, there's no going back. Einstein unmaking reality in the physics of dreams, delivered to your doorstep at the speed of C.

"It's so safe to play along.
Little soldiers in a row.
Falling in and out of love.
Something sweet to throw away.
I want something good to die for,
To make it beautiful to live.
I want a new mistake, losers more than hesitate.
Do you believe it in your head?"
- Queens of the Stone Age- Go With the Flow

Plato's fantasy play of shadows doesn't work in the land of burnt silhouettes. With art we split the fundamental particles of our dreams— creativity bursting out and backwards through time. Here's wishing.

See you on the otherside—

0+>

Filed under: 5:7:5, Belief, Blog, Pain, Q No Comments