lord have mercy on my rough and rowdy ways.

ALSO, i am discontinuing this blog. you know, just cutting myself off completely from the technological world. i think it's a good idea.
here's another reason.
in the words of the wise trevor christensen, who is a sweetheart: "yeah man. (vigorous nodding) blogger's a joke."


see? no questions...? glorious.

Once upon a time you dressed so fine...

A photo that captured my interest:

After my day long praise for Wendy's, Matthew unwillingly smiles at the deliciousness of his Monterey Chicken Sandwich (or whatever it was...)

Photo documentation of some cyclingSLASHcamping

First of all, three best things about the trip:
3. Almost dying of dehydration and starvation on day 3
2. Cycling (duh.)
1. Making fun of Natalie

If any of you don't what this is all about, go hurl yourself off a cliff. Go ahead.
Now, I'll tell you that Finn (14, brother), Natalie (23, sister), Matthew (47/48, father) and I cycled to Cedar City about a month ago.
Here's some photo documentation (most or all of these photos were taken by Natalie)

No shave, no shower, no shhh......

You get mistaken for strangers by your own friends...

Sleepy Pizza Ninja.

Seriously. I am tireddd. Go to bed.

M.A.

-Niels H. C.

With a bone-crunching roar, he hurdled the dough upwards, watching the light brown crust swirl through the stale air, the reflections of the blinding lights and filthy black and white floor skimming off it's crumpled edges, and as he reached up to collect his prize, a perfect, rounded, 16 incher... he poked a gaping hole straight through the center.

"Shit," he said.

After riding home drunkenly in the rain, last night, "A young brother, skinny and tall" sat next to the open back door and ate American-Chinese food and drank milk from a white porcelain mug... and all was well.

M.A.

-Niels H. C.

I make pizzas. Call me. I deliver. (for ca$h.)

Oh But Man Oh Man, You Can Do What You Want...

Here is a photo of me holding a baby child named Olivia.

Now that is a real smile.

White Demon, Where's Your Selfish Kids?

I just rode my bicycle 292 miles, down to Cedar City. But more on that later.

A Fire Burns Beneath Manhattan

And all is well again.

Awesome.

Since you have nothing to do with your hands,
you might as well pray.
I am no god-fearing man but I am afraid of something that I cannot quite explain.

-CPR / Claws Part 2, Typhoon

My Only Sister.

My oldest (AND ONLY) sister is named Natalie. She has done a lot of cool things with her life and has been one of the few, really influential people in MY life. (I'm going to try and keep this short and to the point) but I have so many memories of Natalie, and some, by simply thinking about them brings me close to tears.

One of the best ones is really general, in the way that it happened several times, but I remember when Natalie bought her first car with her own money. I don't remember how old she was, probably 18 or 19 but I thought she was pretty cool. The best part was she would ALWAYS take me with her places; to the store, to hang out with her cool, 18-year-old friends, to go visit close-by relatives. But the most memorable was the CD we would always listen to: Death Cab For Cutie's The Photo Album. I loved every song on that CD and I still do because of Natalie.
And the ENTIRE record reminds me of Natalie and how darling and fantastic of a sister she is.

Oh right... she's going to Taiwan, Taipei on a mission.
She leaves on October 26th... Boo hoo.

But it's going to be great for her... and me. After all I get her Sube.

Why don't you just NOT comment on my stuff.
Lazy misfits.

Untitled 4

(inhale

Miss Angry.

(exhale (

Next on your list...

TYPHOON.

An orchestra from Portland. Well, they're basically an orchestra with the following members/instruments:

2 guitar players, 1 bass player, 2 drummers/percussionists, 1 multi-instrumentalist SLASH guy-that-plays-all-of-the-instruments-that-no-one-else-wants-to-play, 1 cellist, 2 violin players, 3 trumpet players.
One of the guitar players sings lead and everyone else sings backup. They often sound like they have choral arrangements backing them but nope... it's just all 11 other people singing backup.

I saw them live last night opening for The Decemberists at Pioneer Park in Salt Lake City. I only heard half of their set but I was captivated.

These are my favourites:
This one.



And especially this one:



Over and out, captain.

Untitled 3

I often look at shoes that are far out of my price range.
"A man can dream though, a man can dream."
Examples:
Here.

Here.

Here.

I saw 'em in a bike magazine. People on bikes wearing designer suits isn't exactly what I'd call a good idea but hey, I guess it makes a great photo.

Also, my dad ordered a Brooks leather saddle (bike seat, not for horses) and it came with one of the most glorious ads I've ever seen:

Hide that fox you beautiful, bike-riding couple!

Nicholas Rodney Drake

More commonly known as Nick Drake.



19 June 1948: Born in Rangoon Burma.
25 November 1974: Committed suicide by overdosing on amitriptyline, an antidepressant.

The least you could do is click on that link.

Lua

Now I know the posts at/about the ranch may have been overdone a little bit. So that's why I laid low for a while and now that that whole escapade has blown over, I want to write about a magnificent experience I had one night at the ranch.

The last week I was working was long, arduous and just plain boring. I wanted to be home so badly. As this experience happened earlier in the week (probably on a Monday or Tuesday) it made me appreciate the fact that I was out, away from the majority of the human existence, on a little getaway in the country alone with my own thoughts and my best friend, Chris.

I was up late, which doesn't happen often. I had to make breakfast in the morning, so I mixed and patted the dough for the british scones and chucked it in the freezer, frustrated with myself that I was up til 11:30. I stepped outside with nothing but the filthy clothes hanging from my exhausted, bony frame and an iPod with some shitty speakers complete with batteries, fit to die. Staring up at the sky that late at night in Vernon is something glorious. You're at least 40 miles from anywhere with an abundance of electricity and loud, wired people and the sky reflects that. There's no light pollution, nothing to mar the beauty of a simple night sky. You look up and you see a network of light working above you, you see the entire milky way, you see everything your deity wants you to see.

I collapsed on the grass just 20 feet from the house, next to a water pump. Now there are many reasons for me to turn on music that is the epitome of sorrow, and the reasons for that night are the ones that plague me often: I was sick of the tedium of our 8 hour work days, I was sick of the other boys and their infatuations with video games, I was tired all the time, I was hungry all the time and I missed Mary more terribly than ever before. So I turned to the wondrous chunk of metal resting sweetly in the grass next to my head and turned on a song from a "famous singer" I loved: Bright Eyes' "Lua."

Is it foolish to play music that will only make you slip deeper into a state of loneliness?
Not at all.
That's what I do. That's what everyone should do.

"When everything is lonely I can be my own best friend."

I watched the stars and listened. And I not only listened to the words of a sage but I listened to the world around me. I listened to a border collie approach me cautiously, unsure if I was friend or foe.
"Lua...? Hey."
Lua licked my hand and curled up to next to me.

I sprawled on the grass as the world chirped around me. I listened to not only what the earth had to say to me but also to what another man, a man taken with grief, had to offer to me. "Lua" offered me solace and I took it. The border collie of the same name offered me comfort and I took it. And the stars. They offered me all the beauty in the world and I left it. It's not for me to take.
"When everything is lonely I can be my own best friend."

Untitled 2

She will go down with her ship like a good captain.

Mustache Prowess.

Now I know Soren has a sweet mustache picture but the question is... does anyone else?

Come on. Try to beat this. Actually never mind. When you lose miserably, I don't want you to be hard on yourself. I don't blame you for losing, I mean, look that that:



Impressive, I know.
And Matthew, you're not allowed to enter. (He looks like a kodak bear if he doesn't shave for 3 hours which of course, is unfair.) Whatever, give me a few years.

Untitled

There is comfort in solace and loneliness. I know.
Read/listen.

Green Grass, Tom Waits

Lay you head where
My heart used to be
Hold the earth above me
Lay down in the green grass
Remember when you loved me

Come closer don't be shy
Stand beneath a rainy sky
The moon is over the rise
Think of me as a train goes by
Clear the thistles and brambles
Whistle didn't he ramble
Now there's a bubble of me
And its floating in thee
Stand in the shade of me
Things are now made of me
The weather vane will say
It smells like rain today
God took the stars and he
Tossed 'em can't tell
The birds from the blossoms
You'll never be free of me
He'll make a tree from me
Don't say good bye to me
Describe the sky to me
And if the sky falls, mark my words
We'll catch mocking birds

Lay your head where
My heart used to be
Hold the earth above me
Lay down in the green grass
Remember when you loved me

Serve God, love me and mend.
This is not the end.
Live unbruised, we are friends.
And I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.

So I've got this friend...

named EVA. I've been friends with her and her sister, Mary, for the past year or so. Her blog is right here if you want to check it out. She just recently posted this awesome video of Joshua James playing Modest Mouse's "Trailer Trash" which is one of my favorite Modest Mouse songs and which is the reason why I'm linking over to Eva's blog, other than the fact that she's a superb individual.

On another note, instrumental music is the shiz.

And on another note, I'm getting home this fourth of July weekend and it's going to be memorable.

And on one last note, the sprinkler keeps hitting the window just to my right and it manages to scare the crap out of me every time. Just like when the phones ring because there are two phones sitting practically on top of one another and both of the ringers are turned up to "bleeding eardrums". And just like when Lee decides to have mice nightmares and wake Chris and I up to blood-curdling screams at 1:45 in the morning. Take it easy, Lee.

I don't care what you say...

I think this is a work of art.



(Eva, you need to see this)

And not to present some sort of stretched paradox or anything but I killed a chicken with a hatchet a few days ago. It was... hmm.

Check out our latest photo shoot...

Eh, we're not sweaty.

I don't have FB.

And Chris does.

So I'll post this here to those of you who won't see it there because I thought it was pretty swell.

Love you all,
Niels

Leaving again...

I'm home for this weekend. I got here on Thursday night. It's been so marvelous.
But I'm leaving again on Monday morning to go work for a few more weeks.
Thanks for reading.

Much love,

Niels

ps - Three things you should do:
1. Check out The Low Anthem. They're awesome.
2. Go see Water For Elephants. It's in the dollar theatre right now and I loved it.
3. Bring me some damn brownies! I'm leaving again.

Being Blind Last Night

Last night I was moving pipe in one of the barley fields. After I was finished, with much pain and suffering, I began sauntering back on the outskirts of the field towards the house. Then I decided to take off my glasses. Being blind can be cool. I like not worrying about looking and anxiously observing everything around.

So picture this: Me, stumbling through a great barley field with the moon laying low in the dark blue sky behind me and to the left, and pale blue mountains in the distance. I'm wearing a green raincoat that is soaked beyond reason, muddy blue jeans, a gold necklace (which my glasses are hanging from) and knee high rubber boots caked in 3 inches of wet, heavy mud. My feet are dragging, my arms hang lazily in my raincoat pockets and my head is up looking up and all around at the far from dull smudges and blurs of blue and green and brown surrounding me.
I can't even see Chris, who is not that far away from me, who is finishing his pipe line.
I feel invincible, unstoppable.

Now.
Picture me naked.

AHAH!

I'm just young, rich and tasteless.

Eight Lines on Clouds and Sadness and Rain and Beer

Every single day and night
The clouds all gather, chat and fight,
Their colours have the power to
Sooth my soul, drink my gloom
And though they oft bring champion rains,
They still distill my heartache pains
One day they'll scamper, 'way from here
And when that day comes, I'll quaff more beer.

(The clouds here are awesome)

A Secret

My good people. I have discovered something magnificent. Something I had a good idea about but then received the whole truth. Something that makes me happier than almost anything else on the planet. There's only one problem: I cannot tell anyone over my blog. For this secret that I now carry is darker and more devilish than anything (not really) you're ever dreamed of. Also, someone that reads my blog can't know about this secret. NO, it does not have to do with secret love or anything relating to women at all, NO it does not have to do with men either, I guess. Nope, I didn't rob a bank and I definitely didn't lose my virginity.

Just ask me, if you can find me. When you do, I might just flash a knowing smile and tell you to go away. But probably not. I'll probably tell you, if I like you.

ALSO, found a second best friend:


He helped me vanquish at least 20 flies. Chris didn't help me do that.

ANOTHER ALSO, Chris, Javan (not black) and I named our hoes:
Javan: Delilah
Chris: Ophelia
Niels: Persephone

Peektyr.

The Mighty Wasp

(read about it HERE at Chris' blog)
You won't regret it. It was a mighty battle though I mostly hid under the bed...

My best friend:

My headlamp.
It keeps me sane and keeps everything bright when I read and when I write and when I'm stumbling around the bunkhouse at night looking for my glasses or a half-eaten doughnut.

Who's your best friend?

I almost died today.

It's true. Drowned/frozen to death. Those two things combined.

Here's how it happened.

Me and Pappy decided to go kayaking at ten o'clock this morning. We loaded the boats up; fine. No boats fell on my head or anything. I was okay.
We drove down towards the lake put pulled off at the river about a half mile upstream from where the river empties into Utah Lake. Still fine.
We got in the kayaks and started kayaking up the river. It was a) really high, b) really fast, c) absolutely freezing (I didn't know this yet, but I assumed).
As we paddled up the river, we noticed how strong the current was.. I didn't really care, it was just a little more difficult to paddle. So as I'm paddling up the river, I move up in front of a fallen tree trunk sticking sideways from the shore and I rest my hand against it. SO my boat is horizontal with the tree trunk and I am holding onto it to get catch a quick breather. I tried to scan a picture I drew of my position so you could see exactly what the situation looked like, but my stupid scanner on my computer would only take half the printer. Technology sucks.

Anyway, no danger there, right?

Basically the current was too fast for me to just to sit and take a rest, (I later realized the river was probably just telling me, "Resting on MY current?! We'll see about that, you lazy prick! Heh!") and so, because my boat was horizontal with the river, it began getting slowly swept underneath the branch as my body pressed up against it in the same place. I think you get the idea. I turned sideways and bailed into the forty-something degree water.

Nope. It didn't feel that cold when I hit the water. But when I surfaced in the fast current and swam towards Matthew, I realized my limbs were almost completely useless. I was flopping around in the water and I couldn't really pull myself together. I held onto my boat and tried only to say three words to my father: "It's really cold." I couldn't. I, in all honesty, have never felt more handicapped in my entire life. I was just shouting jibberish, I couldn't finish that worthless sentence and I wasn't even close to being able to get a decent breath. My chest felt like it had caved in. After my dad realized that I couldn't really function, he said, really intensely, "You need to swim. You need to swim to shore NOW." I think we both realized if I didn't get to the shore fast, I would get hypothermia really quickly and probably die. It was a wee bit frightening.

So I used all of my strength, pulled myself together and swam towards the shore, even though I was still being swept downstream because of the ridiculous speed of the current. Finally, I reached the shore and I hauled my exhausted body onto the paved pathway that snakes along the riverbank, but not before I sliced my elbow open on a chunk of concrete in the water by the shore. But it's okay because I didn't feel a thing. My entire body was basically numb.
And then after that, I just laid down on that path and breathed for probably 5 straight minutes. And after 5 minutes I laughed and realized how stupid I was for turning sideways in a river like that.

Now realize, all of this happened in less than a minute. Of course it felt a lot longer, especially thinking about it now.

I have four things to be grateful for, for keeping me alive:
1. Swimming lessons when I was young. At least I knew how to do a breaststroke or whatever that simple swimming move is called.
2. A lifejacket. I would be dead if I didn't have one. Slain.
3. God. I mean, come on.
4. Adrenaline. It's the greatest thing I have in my body.

So someone bring me brownies and love tomorrow because I almost died today. Oh and I'm leaving tomorrow for the ranch to do hard labor.

Of course, I changed my mind

But I don't wanna write. I just want to share.

First, check out Chris Bennion's blog. It's praiseworthy.

Second, go to a Prime Time Real Estate show, if you can find one anytime soon. Parker Kelly is a wonder.

Third, lyrics, naturally:

You said you wished that you'd become an actress,
but pretty pictures in the magazines are sick.
They make you feel like shit.
The bodies that they fit
are half a serving hips.

The night dissolved and then the morning sun rose.
Open your eyes and let the color turn you black
for half a heart attack.
Let it fit you in
for cancer of the skin.
Because singing's just like death,
prolonging on your breath.
And all we are is bone;
it's friction we control.

Joshua James (excerpt from Pitchfork from "Build Me This")

Final thing... and I guess this is a thought. And I guess I just undermined the point of my last post......... Damn that last post!

Do you ever feel like song lyrics express your feelings better than you ever could with words? Or that they simply put what you're thinking into words and make it so much easier to understand?
For me, ah yes.
Now those lyrics from Joshua James aren't really what I'm talking about. I'm talking about pieces like this:

And I would say I love you
But saying it out loud is hard
So I won't say it at all
And I won't stay very long

Futile Devices, Sufjan Stevens

Last one for a while...

I go through phases. I'm not really feeling up to writing/blogging. Probably not for awhile.

Two things to leave you with for a while.

1. There are some people I wish I knew better. Exhibit A) Soren Jensen.
I know it sounds kind of lame, but I think he and I have some things in common and I really respect and admire him. I pretty much always have. I won't lie, when he first moved here from New York, I was really jealous of him. His style, his smile, the "new-kid" aura around him, his handsome features, the fact that girls flocked to him.
I realize that was kind of dumb. Oh well. I hung out with him a grand total of probably two times and I wish it would have been more. He's one of the nicest people I've met.

2. I was listening to The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan the other day while cleaning the house and the song A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall came on. I love that song. It has brilliant lyrics to begin with. But my father walked in and I said,
"Dad, don't you love this song?"
"Of course. It reminds me of Kai."
"Really!?" (Kai hates Bob Dylan)
"Yeah... well... you know, 'Where have you been, my blue eyed son? And where have you been, my darling young one?'"
"... ...... ............. That kind of really makes me want to cry."

Man, I got choked up typing this.



Kai is my older brother. He's 20, he drinks and smokes and used to be a drug addict, probably still would be if he didn't get tested once a month. I don't really care what he does, and I really don't judge him for his health choices.
But I know the way my dad feels about him. Since the beginning, when Kai became immersed in narcotics, my dad was practically torn apart.. I felt sad about it too, when I got to be in the same mindset as my father. I can't imagine having a wayward, or prodigal son. And I don't feel like Kai is bad or stupid or anything, I just feel like some of the choices he made were not as smart as they could have been. He's still smart and even loving sometimes.

And I know I talk negatively about Kai all the time because I feel like he treats my family with complete contempt and disgust, but I know I can be better toward him. I love him. I know I don't say it a lot, and it's hard for me to even acknowledge that, but it's true.

I really love you, Kai. I don't care what kind of a person you are.

I just want to be friends again.

"I love you somehow and it's better."

Oceana // A Fonder Reel // Take II from The Undesigned on Vimeo.

Heavy music, believe it or not, still holds a really special place in my heart. Especially Oceana. Oh Oceana. Oceana is one of those bands that no matter how thrashy and chaotic they may sound, they produce some of the most beautiful music I've ever heard. Especially their newest material (previewed in the video above).

I feel like Oceana has moved along with me in my life, in my music.

I feel stupid.

To whoever stole my bike...

and caused me the greatest anger and frustration I've felt in the past 5 years: You suck.

But good thing I found the frame chucked in the bushes. Or else I would kill you.
So I'm creating a sign to put on my bike that says, "If you touch my bike, I will kill you." Vicious, right?

When I hate stuff: (today)

Rachmaninov is my muse.
My mustache is not. But I'll grow one anyway.

I'm the fury in your head, I'm the fury in your bed.

It Ain't Me, Babe

It Ain't Me, Babe
Words and music by Bob Dylan

Go ’way from my window
Leave at your own chosen speed
I’m not the one you want, babe
I’m not the one you need
You say you’re lookin’ for someone
Never weak but always strong
To protect you an’ defend you
Whether you are right or wrong
Someone to open each and every door
But it ain’t me, babe
No, no, no, it ain’t me, babe
It ain’t me you’re lookin’ for, babe

Go lightly from the ledge, babe
Go lightly on the ground
I’m not the one you want, babe
I will only let you down
You say you’re lookin’ for someone
Who will promise never to part
Someone to close his eyes for you
Someone to close his heart
Someone who will die for you an’ more
But it ain’t me, babe
No, no, no, it ain’t me, babe
It ain’t me you’re lookin’ for, babe

Go melt back into the night, babe
Everything inside is made of stone
There’s nothing in here moving
An’ anyway I’m not alone
You say you’re lookin' for someone
Who’ll pick you up each time you fall
To gather flowers constantly
An’ to come each time you call
A lover for your life an’ nothing more
But it ain’t me, babe
No, no, no, it ain’t me, babe
It ain’t me you’re lookin’ for, babe

Mom.

Lately, I have been rereading past emails my dad sent out to our friends and family when my mother was in the hospital.

I hope no one minds if I share the very first email. Sorry, if I wasn't "supposed" to (family). I just really feel like sharing it because I've been thinking quite a bit about it.

The First Month

Tuesday, 7/18/06

This morning at about 10:00 Sharon was in a serious car accident. She was broadsided by a truck carrying a ton of sand (he ran a red light). She has very serious injuries, though she is lucky to be alive. She is still in a coma. She has some brain injury but we don't know the extent at this point. Her spleen was torn, but they were able to stop the bleeding and did not have to remove it. Her pelvis is broken in several places, one of her lungs collagpsed, she has deep lacerations on her head, and lots of bumps and bruises.

She is at Utah Valley in ICU.

We need your prayers.

Three men I absolutely love/would love to hang out with...

Exhibit A)

Mr. Chris Farley... I really don't think an explanation is needed.

Exhibit B)

Connor Oberst. He's a brilliant lyric poet and one of the most well-read musicians I've ever come across. He's easy to relate to when you feel the worst and he has the most glorious, broken voice I've ever heard.

Exhibit C)

Sage Francis. Sage is not only gifted, but he is also intelligent. His freestyle's are magnificent and his ideals that he raps about are complex and incredibly interesting.

4 things.

A) 30 day blog challenges are for people that want an excuse to tell everyone, I don't know, how great their parents are... Frankly I don't really care. I read your blog to read about you.

B) Working on EHS for for 7 straight hours is awesome. It feels like you got shot.

C) Miss Angry.

D) Arcade Fire concert was brilliant. I would have paid twice the amount I did.

Home.

It's a long way from here.

I get carried away.

Sometimes I see things that make me really angry. I don't know why.

Then my temper fuses, I snap, I go on a walk, I read Russian literature on the porch shirtless, I smell dry-cured bacon being cooked in the kitchen, (believe me, this bacon should be enough to make even a god flash a guilty grin), I think about thinking, about March 5th 11:00 pm, about Miss Angry, about being a farm-hand, and then I see a painting and I pray that everything will be alright.

Nosebleed=Decay

I just started Dave Eggers' "A Heartbreaking Work Of Staggering Genius." I have already been close to tears twice.

It's a memoir about a 21-year-old who loses 2 things that are very dear to him. Read it.
You'll love it.

And more.

Man, who loves drawing on themselves...

That's me. That's me. The boy with the broken halo.

Found this treasure

That's my arm.

I love them

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Efg1h0EzLeE

I'm not going to school today.

Why? Well partly because I don't really feel like it. But naturally there's another reason. i mean, of course Matthew wouldn't just let me stay home for no reason at all. Here's just another example of why I'm staying home:

Matthew: "Alright I'm leaving."
Me: "Where are you going!?"
Matthew: "I have a job, remember?"
Me: "Oh yeah... I forgot."

I'm a little tired from my puking and and eye-cleansing escapade yesterday. Puking really takes it's toll on your body.

Anyway, here's what led to all of my ailments:



My left eyes has been half closed and in terrible pain ever since I slept over at Chris' house on Friday night. My contacts were old but I didn't think anything like this would happen as I have slept in my contacts on many previous accounts. I think I scratched my cornea or whatever part of your eyes that can get damaged because I can barely see out of it, as in there is a haze covering my entire left eyes and it's extremely aggravating. Also, I'm very sensitive to light so if you see me wearing sunglasses in one of these thunderstorms we've been having, just don't worry about it.

ALSO. I love these lyrics.
It curses, so be careful.

Say Judas came up to D.C.
He'd been down in Georgia for a while
He drove a 944
He bought with the soul
Of a blonde-headed kid
With a left-handed guitar
Now he's lookin' for me
Citizen C-O-P-E
Sign the dotted line please
For the fake 50's
Now Judas answer me
"Since I was the age to speak
Haven't you been listening?"
Salvation

[chorus:]
Salvation
Salvation
Salvation
I'm calling
Salvation

Well he came to town
Found the woman that I love
And he fucked her down
She told him where I live
Off of 9th in the alleyway
Where they say
They got the coke and the dope
Until you end up broken
"You should have let the smack get you" he said
"But now you've got to deal with me instead
I'm downstairs on the Motorola
You know I've got 3 golden bullets
And I'm shooting for your soul"
Salvation

[chorus]

Well I came down with my Martin blazin'
My voice
It was cutting him up
Now he's aiming
His first shot grazed my eye
I lost half of my sight
And my firstborn's life
The second shot grazed off my guitar moon
And it made my guitar kinda play out of tune
But I just kept playing
Like I had nothing to lose
He turned the third on himself
'Cause the bastard knew
Salvation I'm calling
Salvation

[chorus]

Put the gun down
Put the gun down
Put the gun down
Put the gun down
[repeat]

Salvation, Citizen Cope

Golden Birthday

Thank you to everyone who made my birthday fun, especially Mary, Kimi, Landon, Kent, Chris, and Natalie. I love all of you very much.

If you want to read a little more about it, (of course you don't), go to my sister's blog (click on "Natalie").

Bulimic vegetarian wins weight contest

IhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryonevIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryonevvIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryonevIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryonevIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryoneIhateeveryone

maybe it's the earth, maybe it's the heat

For now.

When I feel the worst.

Songs:
Porch On Me, Ghost - Boots to the Moon
Home - Parlor Hawk
How It Ends - DeVotchka
Two Tongues - The Swell Season
Ticket Taker - The Low Anthem
Salvation - Citizen Cope
Stop the Dams - Gorillaz
Baby Blue Sedan - Modest Mouse
How To Disappear Completely - Radiohead


Albums:
The National's Hight Violet
Blind Pilot's Three Rounds and A Sound
S. Carey's All We Grow

In general:
Anything from Elliott Smith, Pedro The Lion, Death Cab For Cutie (not Narrow Stairs), Nick Drake and Bright Eyes.

A Day In The Life: Parts I and III

That's what I'm gonna do. My way.

I mean, I love Paul to death but for some reason, his part of the song, ("Woke up, got out of bed, dragged a comb across my head") never really hit me hard. Now John, he knew exactly what I wanted to hear in that song. I mean the whole, "sawr a film today" part is so absolutely incredible.

Chris will kick my nuts for saying that. Paul's verse is his favorite part in the whole song.
OH and speaking of the Beatles, watch this video. It has nothing to do with them but this song is a rad little ditty in 6/8 timing.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9WM4v8m2zUQ

ANOTHER MEAL.

I'm already bored of food. Not eating it, of course, but writing about it. Thank you experimentation. Now I know I'm not gonna be a food critic.

Lars picking his nose, spicy vegetable soup, Matthew's cute tie-dye shirt.



Philadelphia cream cheese with a Raspberry & Chipotle sauce.



Blue snow, yellow table.

I hate it when...

this happens.

"Judas came up from DC."

(not that, other stuff).

Skiing and Kai's Birthday Meal

Finn, my Dad and I all went skiing yesterday. It was incredible.



We went up American Fork canyon. The drive was boring as it only starts getting cool once you hit higher up the canyon, however we did have some nice tunes playing: old Modest Mouse and Blind Pilot. We went up on skis about 4 miles or so and started across this road just above Silver Lake. Mind you, the entire time it was torrentially snowing. I mean, it wasn't that intense, but it was steady, heavy, wet snow for 3 hours straight. Needless to say, we were very damp by the time we were back at the car, 8 miles (or so) later.

Huddling for warmth in the Botchy bag (it's really called "Bothy" but it really bugs my dad when I say "Botchy")




AAAAANNNNNNDDD Now..... ANNOUNCING ANOTHER EPISODE OF............................... MATTHEW'S MEALS!

Gather 'round folks.

I'll say it again. Matthew is the man.

This was a few weeks ago.



Classic salad (Lettuce, basil, fresh mozzarella, expensive balsamic vinegar, semi-fresh tomatos, the freeze in Mexico did not help)



Lars and the bread



The happy boy, showing his man-love



Alas, it was a delightful meal.

I think this is the third or fourth episode of Matthew's Meals. We'll go with third. The fourth episode will be up later this week or early next. Stay tuned.

Oh and everyone: Happy Eating.

A Treat.

"Valentine's Day is a holiday invented by greeting card companies to make people feel like crap." Joel Barish

Oh and... excited about this? Ecstatic.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f5npCMAok-M

YOU'RE STUCK IN MY MIND.

I'm not one for "inspirational" blog posts but I just had a couple of thoughts.

I came back from Youth Conference today. We went up to Aspen Grove and skied/snowshoed/played pool/ping pong (I was the undefeated champion of pool. I have no idea how that happened).

Anyway, I've been obsessed with Yeasayer lately, the entire Odd Blood album is brilliant (other than this CD, it's been straight thug hip-hop and depressing acoustic stuff, ie Elliott Smith and Bright Eyes). In the second track called "Ambling Alp" it says something like... Well I'll just post the lyrics. Read every word.

Ambling Alp - Yeasayer

Now kid I know I haven't been a perfect man
And I've avoided doing things I know I can
But if I've learned one thing to tattoo on my arm
Or burn into my thumb it would be that

You must stick up for yourself son
Never mind what anybody else done
Stick up for yourself son
Never mind what anybody else done

Oh Max Schmelling was a formidable foe
The Ambling Alp was too at least that's what I'm told
But if you learn one thing you've learned it well
In June you must give fascists hell
They'll run but they can't hide

You must stick up for yourself son
Never mind what anybody else done
Stick up for yourself son
Never mind what anybody else done
Stick up for yourself son
Never mind what anybody else done
Stick up for yourself son
Never mind what anybody else done

And when those thunder clouds are cryin
(in the skies, in the skies)
And when those fireflies keep shining,
(in your eyes, in your eyes)
Keep your mind on the time,
With your ass on the line,
Keep your fleet feet sliding
(side, to the side)

Now the world can be an unfair place at times
But your lows will have their compliment of highs
And if anyone should cheat you
Take advantage of or beat you raise your head
And wear your wounds with pride

You must stick up for yourself son
Never mind what anybody else done
Stick up for yourself son
Never mind what anybody else done
Stick up for yourself son
Never mind what anybody else done
Stick up for yourself son

Now those are lyrics with heart.

So anyway, it really made me think: There are so many people that care about stupid, fickle things. We need to let go of everything in the world that holds us back and makes us afraid of who we are or what we can be. "Never mind what anyone else done."

I don't know, in the end we lose everything anyway.

I'd like to imagine that this song is based around a father speaking to his son, I mean, I know that's probably not the case because in the modern music industry, using words like, "son" or "girl" or "darling" just add to the cleverness of the lyrics, or so some people think. Maybe the reason I like the idea of a father-son relationship in this song is because my relationship with my dad is an incredible one. My dad is given me word after word of advice and he has raised me to live my life according to what I want to do. I think that takes heart, as a father. Your sons and/or daughters could choose to take a completely different path than the one that you took. In fact, I bet they most definitely will.

"Now the world can be an unfair place at times
But your lows will have their compliment of highs
And if anyone should cheat you
Take advantage of or beat you raise your head
And wear your wounds with pride" is the one of the most powerful pieces. Yes, the world will hold it's boot on your throat at times. But these lows are essential to "compliment" the highs, your happy times.

Best part - wear those wounds with pride.

As a kid I loved getting bashed and beat up because I could wear band-aids or just have cuts and bruises lying on my skin and look plain tough.

And so my friends, if you take one thing, just one that you should "tattoo on your arm or burn into your thumb" (or take into the next life with you), it's this:

Stick up for yourselves, sons. Never mind what anybody else done.

Dominant-Li food?

My asian friend, Dominant-Li, will be taking over for a while and he's thinking of making this a "Dominant-Li Food Blog." I think it sounds like a good idea.

So now I was getting to this... Kai's birthday was the other day and we had another great meal at the Christensen home. Just when I think Matthew has outdone himself, he outdoes himself once AGAIN. Oh Matthew, we just love you. It is too bad he will never read this...

Oh.. er... right! Dominantly Li will post some pictures of Kai's birthday meal in a few days. Brace yourselves.

New Years Eve Meal

Looks sensational, right?

I know all nine of you (and the people that just look at my blog, but don't follow.... AHEM Journalism staff...) look forward to these kinds of posts: Matthew's Meals (Cooking show? This name would be simply splendid). Well I'm glad. These are the posts I look forward to the most as well, because it's different than, "Hey let me tell all of you about some music that I discovered that no one really cares about. I mean, I just like to think that you do..." Okay, so yes, I am sick of those as well. I'll try and remember to take it easy.

Matthew should come to the school and whip up a meal for the journalism students... I mean, he is a god.

New Years Eve Meal

Delicious homeade guacamole

(Left) goat cheese (Bottom) salami (Top) Gala apples (Right) Around 60% dark chocolate

Cheese plate (Gouda, triple cream brie, and I can't remember the last one)

Olives and artichoke dip (just behind and to the left)

(Not pictured: Two different kinds of fresh baguettes)

Anyway, amazing.