Definition Of The Month: POUND TOWN

Pound Town

n. A fictional destination that is visited every time rough sex is had.
1. "What'd you and ________(unimportant girl's name)do last night?"
"Oh, we went to dinner and took a trip through Pound Town."

2. "Man I would love to take that girl to Pound Town"

Not Strange Enough

The other day was spent at night sitting in a living room close to my home with 3 men, 2 which I consider friends. It was late and we had been drinking and I was very tired and hadn't eaten a meal in a whole day and I was very delirious from my hunger thank the heavens that my friend #1 was making pasta for everyone. He's a good friend. These people are not the kind of people you hang out with late at night and not expect to get into a deep conversation. Their house resonates with the aroma of garlic, herbs, existentialism, theosophy, music and at the current moment existentialism mixed with suicide. I was glad when the suicide conversation ended with my friend #2 saying "I just wish I could meet a girl who is strange enough." That made me smile, for I knew it to be absolutely true, the only true thing said over the last hour, day, and maybe month. What is a strange woman made of I know not, for they are never strange enough in the shadows of a moonlit house with 4 men eating pasta in the middle of the night wondering where the strange women dwell as if they were exotic creatures roaming wildly through the fabric of time, and our nets aren't big enough to catch them, nor strong. That's how I like to remember that night. Redefining a species is exciting

The Weather Does us not..

The weather is always the first thing I complain about in Los Angeles. It's a love hate relationship. I grew up with seasons. Seasons spark changes within us and without us. The chemistry of our brains cycles differently, sometimes leading to depression or inspiration. What is weather and why is it so hot today? I wish I could answer that. Without air conditioning I am left stranded in the salty seas of sweat, and not even Zues with a bolt of lightning could spark my mind to truly awaken from this sweltering struggle. It's alright. I'm liberal and I complain. Off to drink wine.

Victory Ink

Since I won the debate with my Father, I was awarded a typewriter from my stepmother who's name sounds like SzuSzi. I don't know how to spell it in Hungarian, but in English it means Suzy.

My gift had nothing to do with debating, more lack of space and use.

I doubt I will ever use this thing for writing anything professional, but I plan on using it for special letters to those I miss. I have disgusting handwriting, and not even Dan Brown could decipher my script. He's really good at that kind of stuff isn't he? I hope I can also use it to write backwards into my past somehow, but I haven't quite figured that out. To avoid sounding like a Tom Mahoney, I will make this short. I love you my friends, and I love America. I also love Canada I hope.

Patriots ACT!

I am one forever and I love the US. We will prevail. For those who want to look at things in a negative light, well step beyond the looking glass. By that I mean, the misery you look at which might be yourself in the mirror everyday, look beyond you. There is beauty, hope, love, and beyond all the need for more life here on our planet. For those who want to look at our country in shame and sadness, that is your Democratic right, but know that you are poisoning the hope of the children who are tucked away in their beds right now as we move forward into the adventure which is the united states of america.

Drunken debate in Echo Park with my Hungarian Father.

Beyond the Walls

All I want to do is lie in bed. There is a window by my bed and beyond it all I can see are trees and the sky. Sometimes all I need to see are the trees and sky lying in my bed beyond the walls that I sometimes forget to exist.

AKASA NEWS

Akasa is coming together for a show in Los Angeles soon. I will give you more info soon. "Yomi" is up on Myspace and Youtube. Go to Trademarkrecordings.com for more info. Seriously be prepared to be nuked.

Repentance . Lee "Scratch" Perry

Anyone who is interested in DUB and complete INSANITY should check out the new Lee "Scratch" Perry album repentance. It's co-produced by Andrew WK and features M.I.A., Moby, the drummer from Lightning Bolt as well as others. It's by far the best dance, tripped the fuck out on Dmt, Crack and the obvious Marijuana album I have heard for a long long time. Lee "Scratch", are you ready to party. What the fuck, this album is so fucking weird.

The song FIRE rules.

The Mystery School Book Club

Are you interested in joining the "Mystery School Book Club"?




email camerinkelly@gmail.com for more information..

Back in LA . Haiku . 400th Post

Back in Los Angeles
A Haiku

In Los Angeles
No one is a friend at all
Fuck it, I don't care


No one is a friend?
No one is a friend at all
Fuck that counts me too

Everything in Fort Bragg

Is filled with bees and birds and clouds hiding the blue from my view as I walk down a path towards nothing away from nothing going nowhere slow is easy and no one notices when nothingness surrounds me.

Tomorrow I depart Fort Bragg. I'll miss walking in the nothingness, it won't notice.

There Ain't Nothing But Darkness Around This Bend

Unfortunately I've come to realize that Mike Hamm lets hot babes slip from his fingers like sweet salted butter. We went to see the Reggae legend U Roy at the Casper Inn last night, just north of Mendocino. It was a wild scene in there, and I didn't know what to do with myself, so I drank. I drank a lot. I drank vodka tonics and chatted with Mike about things that are long gone from my memory and I let my eyes drift like sexual smoke across the scene of dreadlocks, work pants, and peaceful warriors. There was nothing to be done, so I drank more and found myself within the clutch of a woman with a 2 year old child at home. She was lonely. She needed a friend. So I chatted. We danced a little. She flirted, and I parried her advances for reasons unknown to me now. I should have have let her in. Sure, a 2 year old seems strange, but she was cute, 5'10", ready to rock. Sometimes I question myself and the things I do. If anyone knows me, they would say. "You better fucking question yourself." They say that because I perform questionable acts of shame on a regular basis. More regular than and more questionable than the average human at least. What average am I talking about?

Well ladies and gentleman, why won't you throw me a bone and question why I didn't go home with a 28 year old lady? I'll never know. She kissed me on the cheek goodbye, and the first thing I thought was the last thing she kissed was her babies soft fuzzy head. There she slipped into the darkness towards an unknown car and was gone from the night.

Mike meanwhiles blew his chances with some young stoned airhead of a girl. He wanted to dick her down, but good ol' Butterfingers Mike Hamm doesn't slam babes, he let's them slip through his greasy fingers like butter.

Bathe Us In Flame . Big Sur And The Fire

Last fall I screened "The Calm at the Edge of the Sea" at the Henry Miller Library in Big Sur, California. I stayed the night in my friend Leah's guest house. It was a trailer built into a mountain, and it was built over with redwood. Beside the trailer was an ancient swimming pool that overlooked a long gully that went out to the sea. I was very impressed by the trailer, and wished that I had more time to stay and possibly spend a week writing. Unfortunately I didn't have time, and left the next morning. In winter, Leah proposed the idea that I come and visit again, and this time stay a while. I almost brought myself to it, but I find myself lazy in Los Angeles, and never made the decision.

Yesterday I received an email from Leah. She and her boyfriend Erin had to evacuate their home, and lost the beloved trailer in the fire. Their house however escaped destruction.

There isn't a moral to the story, for this isn't really a story at all. It's just the way it is. I will regret my laziness in the winter of 2008. The trailer won't be waiting for me, and their won't be a word written in the swimming pool's presence. Everyone is safe, and that's as good as it's going to get this summer, yet as far as living goes, that's pretty damned alright.

Link to photos of Big Sur from 2007: http://metawitch.blogspot.com/2007/10/apples-of-big-sur-calm-tour.html

"Time Enough At Last" Part 1.

Ladies and Gentleman of the council for green, smart, clean, organic, peace, pro-choice, suicide machine, and somewhat diluted ambience of the future. I know nothing of the ways of right and wrong, nor do I challenge those who do. I wake everyday with an opposing stance to the life long fight, and sleep that night fighting the opposition. This is my right, for I am human after all, am I not? I'm an evolved ape, don't hold me accountable.

I am not at home. I am a good 600 miles from it. Los Angeles, the desert queen is dehydrating my brain, cracking the flesh of my lips and feet. Blood pools the tiles of my mind, and my muscles ache from lack of water. The cross I bear is sharp and splintered and I know not of it's origin or species. Lonesome is the heart of I, like the "Omega Man" or Burgess Meredith in The Twilight Zone's, "Time Enough At Last". My dream, only to find that quiet library at the end of existence, and to sit down with a few hundred books on a foggy afternoon, and bid you all goodbye. I don't need much, and for the most part I don't need the things around me. It's all distraction from the "Great Work", and in my Alchemy I suffer in discipline. Is this too much to ask? I don't see why it should be a problem. No one is here. No one is listening. No one really exists in this sphere. That's the way I like it.

All this must be fixed. All things will be mended. All will pass.

Have you been to Pound Town?

Do you like partying? Do you like homosexuality? Do you like kickboxing?

Mark Botil Presents!

downtopound.blogspot.com

The Rebirth of The Company of Owls

As you know, The Company of Owls has been in flux over the past couple years. We don't know what "The Calm at the Edge of the Sea's" future holds, or if there is a future at all. Recently Booth Feller, Brian Zarin and myself have been working on an acting company. More information will become available soon. I present to you the latest facet from everyones favorite psychos.

George Carlin has left the human race. Like he gives a shit....

You were a genius. You will be remembered. There isn't a whole lot one can say about a guy like you, especially now that you're dead. It's seems ironic for me to even write this. George, you no longer have to deal with humankind, I'm sure that's peace enough for you.

sweating like jason robards

Today the temperature reached 100 degrees in Echo Park. I watched baseball in bed all day long, sweat pouring from my hair, salt dripping from my nose to lips. I'm definitely a man by taste. Hunger was inside of me, but it's easy to ignore you're body when you're body is nothing more than a wet flesh suit. I can't think to write. There is a fiesta across the street. It's a birthday party by the look of it, and by the familiar happy birthday music rippling from the Mariachi's. It sounds like birthday music, but it's different. It's mexican.

I'm sitting here in the 100 degree heat at 8 o clock at night. I'm lake of sweat. My eyes are perspiring. My lips are stained red from a half bottle of wine, they are cracked and dry. If I had a gun I'd look like Warren Oates in a Bring me the Head of Alfredo Garcia. Today, sitting very close to the mexican border in southern california, I am a Sam Peckinpah film. There is nothing left but my body, the mexican birthday party, the wine, and my mind shooting at 60 frames per second in the Los Angeles heat. Slow Motion.

toronto girls is crazy blog

my canadian friend jayme's blog is off to a good start. check it out if you like hot chicks writing weird shit.

http://www.artlikecrazybaby.blogspot.com/

"makes your face look like satan"

Sci Fi legend Arthur C. Clarke has crossed the abyss at 90 years old.

"We seldom stop to think that we are still creatures of the sea, able to leave it only because, from birth to death, we wear the water-filled space suits of our skins."
Arthur C. Clarke






My favorite science fiction writer of all time died today. His name is Arthur C. Clarke. The most famous of his work was "2001: A Space Odyssey" but he also wrote such classics as "Childhood's End", "Rendezvous with Rama", and "Imperial Earth". There isn't a whole lot I need to say, but thank you universe for his his great life. Thank you Sir. for providing me with unknown depths of imagination that catered to my artistic spirit as a teenager, and the winds of Rama that carry me to this day. Arthur C. Clarke is legend. He was one of the most intelligent, abstract, and individual thinkers of the 20th century. There wouldn't be science fiction without the man. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you and Kubrick as well. Thank you for "the romance of space".


Clarke's three laws:

1. "When a distinguished but elderly scientist states that something is possible, he is almost certainly right. When he states that something is impossible, he is very probably wrong."
2. "The only way of discovering the limits of the possible is to venture a little way past them into the impossible."
3. "Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic."

"I don't believe in astrology; I'm a Sagittarius and we're skeptical."
Arthur C. Clarke

"It may be that our role on this planet is not to worship God - but to create him."
Arthur C. Clarke

"Perhaps, as some wit remarked, the best proof that there is Intelligent Life in Outer Space is the fact it hasn't come here. Well, it can't hide forever - one day we will overhear it."
Arthur C. Clarke

"We stand now at the turning point between two eras. Behind us is a past to which we can never return ... The coming of the rocket brought to an end a million years of isolation ... the childhood of our race was over and history as we know it began"

"They will have time enough, in those endless aeons, to attempt all things, and to gather all knowledge ... no Gods imagined by our minds have ever possessed the powers they will command ... But for all that, they may envy us, basking in the bright afterglow of Creation; for we knew the Universe when it was young."

"Behind every man now alive stand 30 ghosts, for that is the ratio by which the dead outnumber the living."

RIP ARTHUR C. CLARKE