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dcoy

I am here for Friends and Networking

About Me

When the child was a child
It walked with its arms swinging,
wanted the brook to be a river,
the river to be a torrent,
and this puddle to be the sea.
When the child was a child,
it didn’t know that it was a child,
everything was soulful,
and all souls were one.
When the child was a child,
it had no opinion about anything,
had no habits,
it often sat cross-legged,
took off running,
had a cowlick in its hair,
and made no faces when photographed.
When the child was a child,
It was the time for these questions:
Why am I me, and why not you?
Why am I here, and why not there?
When did time begin, and where does space end?
Is life under the sun not just a dream?
Is what I see and hear and smell
not just an illusion of a world before the world?
Given the facts of evil and people.
does evil really exist?
How can it be that I, who I am,
didn’t exist before I came to be,
and that, someday, I, who I am,
will no longer be who I am?
When the child was a child,
It choked on spinach, on peas, on rice pudding,
and on steamed cauliflower,
and eats all of those now, and not just because it has to.
When the child was a child,
it awoke once in a strange bed,
and now does so again and again.
Many people, then, seemed beautiful,
and now only a few do, by sheer luck.
It had visualized a clear image of Paradise,
and now can at most guess,
could not conceive of nothingness,
and shudders today at the thought.
When the child was a child,
It played with enthusiasm,
and, now, has just as much excitement as then,
but only when it concerns its work.
When the child was a child,
It was enough for it to eat an apple, … bread,
And so it is even now.
When the child was a child,
Berries filled its hand as only berries do,
and do even now,
Fresh walnuts made its tongue raw,
and do even now,
it had, on every mountaintop,
the longing for a higher mountain yet,
and in every city,
the longing for an even greater city,
and that is still so,
It reached for cherries in topmost branches of trees
with an elation it still has today,
has a shyness in front of strangers,
and has that even now.
It awaited the first snow,
And waits that way even now.
When the child was a child,
It threw a stick like a lance against a tree,
And it quivers there still today.
poem by Peter Handke
"Song of Childhood"
translated from German.

My Interests

Music:

anything that moves me...

favs include:
Mike Watt
Bob Dylan
Prefuse 73
[a]pendics.shuffle ~
John Coltrane
The Dead Milkmen
Luke Vibert
Radiohead
!!!
Earth Wind and Fire
Autechre
John Tejada
Surgeon
pre-Black Album Metallica
Jeff Mills
The Walkmen
LCD Soundsystem
Marc Houle
My Bloody Valentine
Dan Bell
Sonic Youth
Beck
Stan Getz
Speedy J
Pink Floyd
Claude VonStroke
Can
The Gorillaz
Stevie Wonder
Kraftwerk
The Sea and Cake
Devo
txt beak
The Talking Heads
Built to Spill
Aphex Twin
The Pharcyde
The Clash
Peter Gabriel
Boards of Canada
The Beatles
The Stone Roses
Jane's Addiction
Donovan
Pavement
The Silver Jews
Carl Craig
more...

Movies:

The Science of Sleep
Eternal Sunshine of the Spottless Mind
American Splendor
The Xmen
Dodgeball
Wings of Desire
40 Year Old Virgin Apocalypse Now
Fight Club
Zoolander
Donny Darko
American History X
Blade Runner
Cable Guy
Breakin' 2 Electric Boogaloo

Television:

I don't know-
Elimidate!?
I wish I had
Comedy Central
and Mtv...
oh well,
at least I have a
big HBO package-
that's right ladies,
I said it...
I have a
BIG
(hbo)
PACKAGE!

Books:

Killing Yourself to Live
Brave New World
Slaughter House Five
Chronicles
Factotum
Sex Drugs and Cocoa-Puffs
non-fiction...
"my favorite book is -- MAGAZINES --"

Heroes:


SOLACE!