Enter Travis Bickle

travis-bickle-21Man with a Harmonica” by Ennio Morricone is up to bat and I can’t say that this doesn’t bring back some very fond memories of a time where being transfixed by some superficial entertainment didn’t seem like such a wasteful exercise but then again that was then and this is now as so it is. While I was preparing to write this entry I took a stab at some rather fiery Chili (I must say that it came out well) and I watched a french horror film, À l’intérieur . Now I don’t know what was on the minds of the individuals that created this film but surely they are in very good standing with the Devil himself and I’m sure he’s extremely proud to say the least. This film was absolutely revolting and vile and that’s just the tip of the situation; I felt as if at any moment a portal would open up and suck the entire image straight into the deepest recesses of hell (smoke bellowing, demons hollering, flesh crackling in the timbers and the whole lot) but it was….dare I say, well made. For what it was trying to accomplish (I believe rendering one speechless or breaking the record for the most regurgitate inducing moments) it did it’s thing and it shows that with a little money and some vision you too can craft a blood curdling sordid piece of exploitative cinema ready for the “The Grand Guignol”.

Now to the title of this entry and it’s inspiration, one Mr. Travis Bickle. Travis was a poor misguided character in the 1976 Martin Scorsese film “Taxi Driver”and without getting into the plot, let’s just say he flipped out, shaved his head and started shooting the living shit out of people. Now I absolutely DO NOT condone this type of abhorrent behavior but  I do sort of share the characters approach to self fortification in preparation for some life altering occurrence. Mr. Bickle was quite the crazy loon yet he was definitely on to something with his approach at “preparing” for his delusional armageddon; we should all take it upon ourselves to get “sound” for there is some real trouble brewing on the horizon. Everyday it seems that some new economic mortar  has gone off pushing us closer to the inevitable collapse of our system and with that will come a whole heap of issues that may have us all cutting our hair and going tribal like Mr. Bickle.  <“Cloudburst” from George Winston> is up now as the hour grows late but I must press on because there’s more work to be done indeed. I have been labeled so many things during my life that I feel as isolated as Mr. Bickle in many ways but not to fear, I will NOT be gunning folks down to their knees with a .357. I rarely feel akin to any one person and that isolation has created the type of loneliness that with all the words in all the languages could not possibly quantify so I have to foster feelings for the world as a whole and go from there.  I have begun the slow obsession with my physical conditioning and my mental acuity as well as boning up on my world affairs for I feel that I’m preparing for a heavyweight bout that will encompass the entire world and many will get caught with that “duhhhh” face as the gavel drops on their livelihoods. Now I’m not a town crying harbinger of doom or a conduit for all things negative, I consider myself just to be a dude that felt a dis-ease  a bit before others picked up on it and I guess that makes me unfortunately fortunate (go figure).  Never the nihilist more like the realist I love to say “it is what it is” but what “it” is these days is more like sh”it” and I’m not alone in my observations this time around. My regimen consists of some good old vitamins and plenty o water, rest and exercise as well as reading reading reading and some more reading; my only real regret is that I will face this future as a man alone, reticent but with conviction but like I always say “it is what it is”.

On another note I would like to conduct some sort of study on the therapeutic properties of music and its various applications. I truly believe that if music were removed from existence there would be bedlam in the streets with angry, musically frustrated individuals impaling people with guitar necks or slinging hard hat symbols like Captain America’s shield, beheading people at all turns; I’m not joking. Music can really cure the savage beast and bring people of all walks of life together in a harmonious union and outside of some psychotropics I don’t know of anything else that can accomplish this. I walk to an internal beat and I click my teeth together to create rhythm sections between steps composing an impromptu session whenever I can. I don’t know if other “visual artists” find themselves enveloped in music at all times but I find it quite the phenomena and I would be truly lost without it. Music keeps me and I welcome it with open arms and for that I’m eternally grateful but when I say “music” I am selectively omitting that repetitive commercial pablum that is (in my opinion) the equivalent of an auditory colostomy bag filled to the brim . Now if we could only get the “bankster” detritus that’s ruining the world with their greed and plots to just pick up instruments instead of crashing markets and devaluing currencies we might have the worlds lousiest garage band but at least we could just tune them the fuck out or better yet storm the stage boots first!

The curtain now closes on this entry <“The Swan” by George Winston> and Mr. Bickle and I (uncommon brothers together in preparation albeit apart in application) shall fade into the cyber darkness to be reborn another day, another keystroke and with that said, I’m gone.



~ by skilletsauce on December 14, 2008.

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