Miles Davis: Tutu

Miles Davis. What does that name mean to you? To most folks who are into music it is a name to be revered and reckoned with. Saying that his name may spur one to reflect upon monikers such as legend, master, and virtuoso may be an understatement. Suffice it to say the man helped drive and define jazz for several key decades in its history and is remembered by many as a genius and an innovator.

Innovator.

Why You Should Be Really Excited About Ridley Scott’s Prometheus

Want to know just what the heck that’s a picture of? So do I. So do A LOT of people, some of them no doubt stewing over it for over thirty years now. The screen capture is of course from 1979’s Alien, directed by Ridley Scott and starring the now infamously famous Sigourney Weaver, John Hurt and a host of other unfortunates who stop off on the wrong planet to answer the wrong distress beacon (which turns out to be a ‘Stay the hell away’ beacon) and initiate events that ignite what is in my mind the best* Sci-Fi film franchise ever. And if you are a fan, or even if you’ve only just seen the original film in the series, you may have watched the scene the above image is from and said to yourself, “Now just what the hell is that?”.

M83: The Doorways Music Can Open in Our Lives

Image courtesy of M83

Image courtesy of M83

Note: I’ve been trying to write this article for about a month now. I started strong but it has been very difficult to put into words the things I am trying to put into words. Because of this time-differential, i.e. beginning the piece the day after the M83 concert in Los Angeles, November 9th, then struggling, putting it aside, moving back to it, etc. there are some possible tense or chronological hiccups. Bear with me – the last thing I want to do is streamline this into one time frame. That wouldn’t be very Gonzo, and although that is not my sworn oath, it is a very important tool for the box.

Las Vegas: Vampire?

Pre(r)amble: Ah, Las Vegas, to call the monster by the name we’ve given it. I don’t really gamble, and the spectacle of this city wore off after about my third visit, consequently I have come to the conclusion that this city is boring as hell without something to help me ‘plumb the depths’ so to speak. Maybe that’s my Hunter S. Thompson complex I wear from time to time. Anyone who reads this who is familiar with his work will no doubt see that in some respects I am ‘channeling’ or perhaps more harshly yet maybe accurately stated, ‘trying to be like him’ here. That’s fine. I believe Thompson was akin to a William S. Burroughs, a Timothy Leary or a Douglas Rushkoff – an important cultural archeologist. What’s more I truly believe there is something to his courage in taking hallucinogenic drugs and waddling full bore into the middle of the most insane city in America on a quest for the phantom of the american dream. This article will be about one of the things I have found while communing with Psilocybin in that city, and trying to later make sense of what exactly that discovery – if it is indeed a discovery – means in the context of understanding ourselves, our planet and where exactly we fit in the food chain within this strange, unpredictable Universe.

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