Do Over.

I've been feeling the need to write about some topics in the esoterica realm,  Not sure what kind of audience this blog has anymore; it never gets hits.  It never gets posts.  Until now again.

So...let's have a do-over.  I'll keep the posts below as a kind of archive because looking through it, I actually see a lot of links to some things I might want to revisit.

Oh yeah...

Here's my shop on Etsy. My latest obsession is making jewelry. Still writing, but making jewelry too. Go see.

Shipwreck Dandy

I forgot....

I completely forgot how to post on this damn thing. I'm thinking about reviving Miss Beamships Equal Love. I really didn't know people were still blogging and whatnot. Just teasing. I did, but it's been a long blogging time.

Photoshop Phancy

I've been a lazy blogger lately.

Magic and Cyberspace

Magic and Cyberspace
Fusing Technology and Magical Consciousness in the Modern World

Nice essay via MSU's journal Esoterica.

My new column is up...

Musings on the Super Bowl commercials, identity, cultural evolution/transhumanism, gen X, and on and on. Go see.

windows movie maker experiment no.3

Open Sesame!

My new column is up at BoA. It's all about vintage Sesame Street's psychedelia, aliens, children, and identity. What a fabulous freakshow it all was. Read it here.

Octopus as Trickster

So, since the terms octopus and tentacles have been present in developing UFO rhetoric the last few months, I've been considering the deeper meaning/implications. I need to do a bit of research--for now it rather eludes me, but I've a feeling it will turn out to be quite ripe.

Interestingly, in the recent news story about the California aquarium octopus who caused a flood, it was referred to as 'trickster,' and with words like mysterious, and curious to describe the animal--it's clear there are lots of loaded, symbolic words which seem to take the animal and its behavior into a mythological place.

photo: U the octopus by cissyhu via flickr

Movie

A movie I made testing out windows movie maker.

Seeking your weird memories...

Because weird things happen and people love it. I'm collecting more weird memories--to hopefully start a recurrent thing in my Medusa's ladder column. Anything goes--anything that falls into the category of "what the hell just happened?" Or, "Could this have really happened the way I remember?"

Stories don't necessarily have to be paranormal or spooky, just weird. Take a look at some of the things people have previously posted here and here. Some of the better stories are in the comments sections. The "typewriter head" has haunted me a little bit.

So, either post your stories with the comment section of this post, or email them to me at cemeterylegends@yahoo.com

Unless otherwise specified I will be using just first names, or user names. Keep in mind they may be used in my column here.

photo 'My Clark Nova' by Capt. Tim at flickr courtesy cc license.

Aluminum in UFO Narratives

I've got a new item up in my column about aluminum, ufos, the reflexivity of phenomenon, etc.

Everybody knows me...at the dump

Speaking of Tom Waits, this field trip story is one of my favorite stories ever.

In the cold cold ground...

Doesn't this 'spirit' look just like Tom Waits!?

from the fabulous spirit photographs of william hope series from the national media museum photostream at flickr

9 meaningless facts about "The Christmas Story"

1. I have never seen it.
2. I don't want to ever see it.
3. I don't want to know anything more about it than I already do. I already know far too much.
4. That leg lamp blows.
5. That stupid red rider bb gun blows too.
6. I was once shot in the neck (sniper style) by M. Nobo with a high power BB gun.
7. I was relaxing on a hammock at the time.
8. That kid looks an awful lot like cousin oliver from brady bunch.
9. Don't tell me if it really is (see meaningless fact no. 3)

the war of the machines has begun...

Can this be real?

I want it to be real, and I want it to be unreal. I'm going to have to read further and think on it a bit; there's something kind of fin de siecle romance about it--somewhat like 'optograms' were in the last turn of century. There are huge ideas of object/subject/reality/perception, etc. galore here. wow.

And...the idea of actually seeing a dream outside the dream itself is killing me softly with his song.

screwed up eyes and screwed down hairdo...

My latest column is about a very odd photograph that was sent to my husband to post at his paranormal about.com site. I won't try to describe it--you really have to see it to believe it anyway. My article was linked and the photo were posted at various places--boing boing, forgetomori, et. al.--not due to my glorious ramblings, but for the singular bizarreness of the illusion contained in the photo. It is possibly the best and weirdest case of photographic pareidolia to date. GO SEE!

Click here.

Faked moon landing footage

I LOVED space food sticks. The peanut butter ones.

Phone the authorities!

Bettie Page is still ALIVE?!

"Are we still married"

courtesy the brothers quay. This has always freaked me out as much of their stuff does--it doesn't seem possible to create this. I feel outraged that they even thought they could film it. It's wonderful and terrifying. The rabbit is the kind of thing I used to see when I closed my eyes after taking nyquil as a kid.

In the beginning was the word...

My latest column, The Whole Wide Word (ok, it's almost 2 weeks old now) at Binnall of America is about some mystical aspects of the Hebrew alphabet. More esoterica alphabetica recommended reading here, here, and here.

Long Lost Night Gallery Find

I was browsing the new releases at Netflix, and came across Night Gallery Season 2. A description of an episode about Zsa Zsa Gabor getting trapped in a mirror made me curious: For years, I have been going crazy trying to find a movie or something I saw as a kid.

All I remembered was a painting that revealed a weird, 'live' prehistoric scene underneath the top layer when someonce scraped away at the paint. It really freaked me out. I remembered it as a made for tv type of movie, and could have sworn that Adrienne Barbeau was in it.

Anyway--I found the Night Gallery episode on youtube, and I'm sure this is what I saw as a kid. It's better and creepier in my memory.

The first scene is quite strange--I suppose the demolition of buildings and traffic congestion is supposed to represent the sacrificing of the past for development, somehow related to the reliquinshing of antiques as the heroine does in the story, and ultimately the trapping in the ancient past...

Part I



Part II

Unlikely poetica on the internets...

Lord knows how or why I came across this, but I sure did, dammit. On some ridiculous Yahoo OMG! stupid website, I found part of a comment about a dress Scarlett Johanssen (or however you spell it) was wearing--the outfit was part of a "what were they thinking" celebrity photo fashion-miss set. I love this; it sounds like it could have been issued from the divine hand of Leonard Cohen...

I am drunk and slightly approve

who cares if your hair is a mess

but you are still

one of the most beautiful women in the world.

I couldn't, sure as hell, wear that dress

dumb headline

I came across this headline just now: Poll: Obama wins women and blacks while McCain wins whites

There's something so odd about this. There's an assumption here that "whites" can refer to just men. Or, that women constitutes a classification such as race. "Women and blacks" suggests that women are not included inherently in "black." Women seem to be likewise not necessarily included in "white." I understand what is really meant here, but it is really poor phraseology...

Good luck to California...

Here's hoping Proposition 8 does not pass by a damn landslide. Rock on.

photo credit: Gay Marriage by bilericoproject via flickr

The Word of Wisdom...

...ala terence mckenna.

halloween video

what would i give...

For...

A Veggie H, fries, fry sauce?

Sweatin' to the Oldies

I completely forgot about this song, and forgot even more about the video. Billy Squier doing his best Richard-Simmons-dancing impression. As you can see from his expression (in post below) Borgia does not approve. Being a rockstar isn't what it used to be. Kids these days.

Testing...

Looks as if my ability to upload photos is back. Ladies and gentleman, Mr. Caesar Borgia.

Rev. Robert Short or Fritz Van Nest?

A while ago, I posted something about the murky provenance of a classic UFO photograph: see the discussion here. I was never able to re-find that Omni page I saw (didn't really look too hard...) but today, after browsing around at allposters.com, I found this photo with a title that verifies what I saw in Omni--a claim the photo was taken in Utah--Kanab, UT to be exact--by Fritz Van Nest...

Note: I'm really annoyed--for some reason I can't publish photos now. Go here to see the allposters photo.

Stupidest thing on the internets this week...

I am so tired of looking at the news headlines on yahoo and seeing yet another tired, lame story about some pathetic copycat loser who is auctioning off his or her life, soul, etc.

I swear this story is the 3rd different one I've noticed just within the last week. This is not original, clever, interesting, and most importantly, it is not newsworthy.

Why not post news stories about fiesta ware butter dishes that some guy is auctioning off? At least they're pretty.

photo, danagraves via flickr

Upon preparing to leave the promised land...

Yes, I have already moved to New York, but having this month-long venture in Salt Lake made everything seem a bit transitory, non-permanant. I've felt like that for a good 6 months now; the idea of living between places. Today was the first time I started really getting I won't 'be' in Utah. Driving to Smith's in the avenues today, it all seemed so absolutely familiar and home. It feels different now I suppose, because I have no immediate plans to come back. It's not necessarily negative, but it's somewhat of an unsettling feeling. There are things I will miss, and things I will not miss. Most of the things I will not miss aren't because if Salt Lake--it's simply urbanness. It's a small town vs. city thing. A trade off like everything.

Not Miss:The sound of blaring sirens, traffic, construction, beige shopping areas, starbucks, people talking about all the crap they got at costco, the whole hipster scenario, the dastardly air quality.

Miss: a plethora of ethnic cuisine, incense selection, D.I., smart people, bookstores, the great annual curbside giveaway, Hires Big H. Dammit.

Villisca Photos

In my column at BoA last week, The Treachery of Images, Part II: This is not a Killer, I wrote about a strange old photo of a baby we found in an old Victorian-era album. The haunting look on the baby's face made me think it could possibly be a postmortem photo, so I typed in the only words found on it--the name and location of the photography studio: Van Alstine, Red Oak Iowa.
The search brought up the Villisca Axe Murders--nothing to do with my photograph, but curiously, there was a suspect arrested for the eight grisly homicides named Van Alstine, from nearby Red Oak Iowa.

Serendipitously, the same day my column was published, there was a link at The Anomalist to Troy Taylor's page, A Haunting Mystery: The Ghosts of the Villisca Ax Murder House. I just got around to checking that out yesterday, and I was pleased to find some photos I hadn't seen before.

There was even a photo of some of the victims--a couple with 2 children. The youngest one bears a striking resemblance to the infant in our album photo...see what you think.

Detail of image at Troy Taylor's site (left) and our photo.

No, this blog is not defunct...

I've just been preoccupied. Getting married, painting my basement floor, baking muffins and cakes using that new space agey silicone cookware...

today...

I'm getting married!

if a chupacabra was aquatic...

...it might look like this weird thing. Apparently this mysterious creature killed a lot of fishies in Brigham City Pond. Nobody seems to know what it is.

Looks fake. Not suggesting it is fake, though.

More info here.

novels for scavengers

I recently found the titles of a couple books I read several years ago. I can't say I'm organized enough to keep track of all the books that come and go through my life, unfortunately. I also have no idea as I'm reading something how it will stick with me. It doesn't seem to be apparent at the time of reading. A side effect of that then, is that many books that I may perceive as 'disposable' may end up being signifigant somehow. But they are lost. Every now and then I'll find them again on some thriftstore shelf or yahoo search and be happy. I recently re-found a couple that I should recommend.

Both are centered in the world of flea markets, thriftstores, and junking in general, but the plots (thankfully) have a lot more to offer. I can't say these are 'serious' fiction by any stretch, but they both are worthy and lingered with me.

Second Hand, by Michael Zadoorian, isbn 0393047970

There are some hilarious lines here. There's a pathetically-detailed description of a retro liquor service--a bowling ball featuring a tiny bowler that somehow ascends out of the ball--that killed me. The main character is a junker obsessed, and against the mainstream and conservative ideas of the people around him, it's just the funniest thing ever.

Collectors, by Paul Griner

This is somewhat of a thriller, but the quiet desperation that seems to manifest with fountain pen and binoculars collecting is an interesting device for character development. Anyone who collects or sells random, esoteric paraphenalia will identify.

Lonely is as lonely does...

Lonely is an eyesore.

This first video is one of my favorite songs and videos ever. It's barely music--it is somehow transcendant. My best friend Monique aquired a compilation album called Lonely is an Eyesore around 1987 or so, and this song, 'Fish' was on it. I don't know if it was every released on any other Throwing Muses album--I can't find it anywhere. They used to play the video on 120 minutes. Some wonderful person somehow has found it and posted in on youtube. 1+2+3+4+5+6+6+6+6+6+6....
If I could get one of those recorded message things attached to my gravestone, I would want the noise she makes at 4:06-4:09 to be the message. If I wasn't immortal I mean.



This one below is extrememly hard to find. It's a great video, and even better song. Monique and I saw this video on 120 minutes or Nightflight, and went to 'World Records' in Topeka soon after, and quite unbelievably, she found the 12 inch LP. She had the BEST music luck in the world. Except for the unmentionable "Crucifux" incident in Kansas City that should probably not be explained in full. I'll just say my mother's 'omen' prevented me from being present, and a 'wire wisk', van, and the movie Faster Pussycat Kill Kill and a couch were involved. Although maybe that was good luck after all. Also, being the parent of a teen now, I'm not sure my mother's omen had to do so much with psychic phenomena--perhaps hearing the name of the band "crucifux" may have had a bit to do with it.


Find more videos like this on Loud Old Guys

The Eightiest thing in the world...

I don't exactly remember this song on the radio, but they use to play this video on Nightflight sometimes. We used to mock it relentlessly.

My Own Private Girl on Mars

Here's my latest column at Binnall of America. It's about pareidolia, the signifier and the signified, and the recent figure on Mars meme.

Feet of Flames

Wondering if anyone else on the planet remembers this Tenpole Tudor song. My friend Mika used to play it incessantly as we drove around Topeka. These guys strike me now as kind of sha-na-na. What a hilarious spectacle; the guy is about to Riverdance.

Fall From Grace

There's a new feature length documentary about the Phelps clan--that infamous stringy-haired-god-hates-fags-westboro-baptist-church from my hometown, Topeka Kansas. I haven't seen it yet, but it looks pretty good. It's available for instant viewing at Netflix.

dance me to your beauty with a burning violin

One of the best videos ever.

The New Gaze

I've noticed some things recently. One has to do with female narration on commercials. I have never been so disturbed. It's a certain cadence...this kind of deep-toned quirkiness. It's very subtle, and ubiquitous within commercials featuring tampons, toothpaste, food, cleaning products, crappy Payless shoes, etc. I'm thinking of buying that $350 time machine that guy was hawking on Coast to Coast. I'd like to be in almost any decade but this one. Dear culture, I'm filled. I will have to find a perfect example of this disturbing narrative tone. I have yet to understand its meaning. It might have somethign to do with the celebration of stupidity, individuality and imperfection that I want to barf all over.

So anyway--this bugs the crap out of me too. This androgynous emo kid gaze. I don't mean to pick on this particular kid, but this happened to be on the front page of flickr and I clicked on it because I haven't seen such a grand example of posturing since I had to stop looking at MySpace or check myself into a sanitarium. Sorry kid, it's not you, really. It's the self-induced pose. It's always the same. Smooth long bangs over one eyelinered eye (what's the message of identity? I'm only half here?)--always an upward gaze, implying smallness and weakness, very childlike. Many times, the camera even seems to be held up over the head with arms outstretched as far as possible, to imply the subject is a toddler. Overall very fetishized and with an almost anime look. Oftentimes, there is one word in the picture, drawn on (I suppose) in photoshop, or drawn directly on the arm/hand, with marker etc. I'm disturbed by it--irrational perhaps.

The Trip, Sal Giammona

For a single semester, I was a film major at the U. We got to rent free VHS from the small but nicely-and-obscurely-stocked little gated movie stall. Somewhere, there's a woman named Francine-a woman who loaded the film for the 'pets or meat' scene in Michael Moore's Roger & Me--a woman who served me homemade peach moonshine 16 years ago in her messy apartment--the same apartment building in fact, that last week, a sex offender shot and killed himself in a police standoff--somewhere this woman Francine probably still has all her student films, one of which I star in, I am a character named Jade, and I sit in this little gated movie thing and swig Nyquil.

I am a terrible actress; in fact, I am no actress at all--as everyone, especially this very frustrated film student golden child who was directing Francine's graduate student film, named 'Basil' found out that night with the Nyquil. I had no idea I couldn't act until then; I otherwise never would have committed to it.

Anyway, once I checked out some film fest short film VHS, and there was one on there called Walls in the Woods, which I watched over and over. I loved it. Just reading the description of it here, I'm sure you'll see why:

...we see eggbeaters flying in space, furniture creaking through the woods like a flying ship, and tools enlarged in his bedroom next to the donut shop which he dreads...

Although I can't find it online, I found out the filmmaker's name (Sal Giammona) and this is another of his. It aptly embodies and expresses the Platonic Form of Roadslapped.

High Strangeness at the D.I.

I came across a bizarre story today, involving the Centerville Deseret Industries (local LDS owned chain of thriftstores), temple clothing, a disabled guy, an insane person, and a dressing room.

The insane person abducts the disabled guy, hies into the dressing room, dresses him in a in white temple jumper, and returns the disabled guy to his mother at the checkout line, wants to pay for the jumper, practically proposes temple sealing right there, everyone is appropriately rightened and stunned. Police are summoned, and later...

"When officers arrived, the man appeared in the store parking lot, wearing his own white jumpsuit under a trench coat and a hockey mask on his face."

I will miss D.I., perhaps most of all. Don't hate me for that. I have my own high strangeness at D.I. stories.

Read the full story here.

no one, not even google street maps has such small hands

I've just discovered google street maps, and it's really bizarre. Here's a view of a house I used to own about a decade ago. It looks so different now. I sold it to a friend I worked with at Barnes and Noble, and they put up the white picket fence. I used to have all manner of flowers out front--those seem to be gone too. That house has literally doubled in price--I wish I could have held onto it. Anyway--turn around 180 degrees, and you will see the sublime view I had out my front windows. There used to be all kinds of wildlife too--owls, deer, bunnies, etc. I miss that place!



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