They paved paradise, put up a parking lot. (Day Day 63)

This past week has been pretty strange, actually. First off, I want to introduce an "artist" named...oh, we'll call him David McFuckstick. See, David McFuckstick fancies himself to be a champ among the writers in Ireland, and thats fine. The Irish are some of the most over looked poets and writers of all time. I think it's because no one can understand them.

Back to the point at hand. See, Mr. McFuckstick recently finished up a short story that was well received in his little community, enough so that he had decided to go the DIY shortcut, and print it up himself. He was going to be doing an in store at a cafe, pub and little bookstore.

Way to go, Mr. McFuckstick. Way. To. Go.

The only problem is, the story he was pushing...was mine. He was pushing Shootin' At a Mound of Dirt as his own pride and joy.

I was stunned when a nice person in the aisle of Green alerted me to what was happening. I had no idea this was happening. And it's not that I care too much, honestly. It really isn't that. I mean I do for the simple fact that a) I don't think the story is even worthy of being pinched, but b) I don't like when someone cannot write something from their own mind, of their own volition.

Any writer who claims he doesn't get a line, or borrow one here or there, or slip a slight homage maybe one in a thousand people might get would be lying to you. In fact, throughout File Under Powerviolence, I reference, pay homage/give a nod or use a line from bands like Dillinger Four, Descendents, the Clash/Joe Strummer and the Mescalaroes, Connor Oberst, the Misfits and the Thermals.

And I only do this out of respect for these bands. God know how much JD Salinger, Charles Bukowski or Mark Twain have inspired so much of what has happened. Theres a story in the book called twentyvolVe. It's one hundred percent an homage to Mark Twain's Tom Sawyer, Jack Kerouac's Sal Paradise and JD Salingers Holden Caufield characters, respectively.

But to flat out rip someone off, word for word and pass that off as your own expression...thats completely bullshit. It's the lowest form of existence, and you might as well steal my identity and buy a Porsche (not that you could with my credit).

Go fuck yourself, friendo.


Also, in interesting and more WTF-type of news, a subsidiary of Nike (you know, "Just Do It") has now linked me on their site, My Air Shoes.

I got an email informing me that I was now linked, as a part of their desire to introduce people to all forms of things they found interesting on the internet. While I'm flattered, I'm also slightly surprised and part of me wonders two things: First of all, where the shit are my shoes? If I'm selling out, I either want some of the new Kobe shoes (or the Alkaline Trio Shoes!!) or even let me design a Powerviolence shoe! Angry, fast and sexy, baby.

But two, given the history that Nike's had with human rights and children doing all that work, I'm a little apprehensive. But I don't think theres anything wrong with them linking me (I will be linking them, too, as there are a lot of really interesting sites they have linked) because I'm not "supporting" the shoe, or anything. I'm actually really excited about this prospect, because I mean...this is a huge step for me. Big things seem to be happening for me lately, and it's a really exciting time for me.

In other more important news:


My pal went to a therapist today, and I really hope it works out well for him. Lately he's seemed really blue, and I feel bad for him.

I really love and respect the hell out of him. He's a hell of a talented writer, an extremely funny guy, and he's probably one of the nicest people I've ever come across. I don't feel comfortable sharing his name, I feel that he should be the one talking about his issues with his name attached if he wants, and it isn't my decision to exploit him for that.

But I wish I could link him write here. He's a fantastic writer, he's such a great guy and I really think he deserves a lot of attention because he's talented in many facets and I just would never be able to understand if someone wasn't an immediate fan of this guy. He's just an awesome person, and in the past few months he's become one of my closest friends. He came into my life during a particularly turbulent time, and he's always been understand and there for me.

I can't say I'm comfortable opening up to many people. God, it's taken me a long time to peel back a few layers with a person who I'd consider one of my best friends. But with this guy, it was almost instantaneous how we both could just speak, and interact and be able to just get along so well.

I'm privileged and nothing short of blessed and lucky to know him. I truly, truly am.

And lately he's been going through a lot, and I want him to know I think about it all the time. I know he'll get through it in only the most fashionable, awe striking and cool way possible, because he makes Fonzi look like Richie Cunningham,

But I hate that he's under stress, under pressure, falling into anxiety and depression. I know he feels apprehensive with going to therapy, and taking medication isn't something he's ever expressed a positive interest in. But I also know that in able for him to be able to get where he needs to go, these medications will only help make him unstoppable, and impenetrable.

"Make the bastards chase you."


I've been reevaluating so many things lately. And I have to be honest, there have been little tweaks I've been making, and honestly...it feels good. I feel more energized, excited and focused than I may have ever been.

But lately I've been so stressed out, anxious and whats really worrying me is how easily I've been losing my temper. Thats completely out of character for me, and I don't know what to do, but I need to do something fast.

One thing I've realized lately, is that I'm really anal about...pretty much everything. I wish I wasn't either, but I'm such a stickler for authenticity, and things having a node of precision, and it gets in the way of the bigger picture. I have no idea how to change this, but I wish I could.

Every time something is slightly off, I'm pretty sure another hair turns gray and I wish a kitten was dead. I want something beautiful gone to rectify this ugly atrocity.

Right now I just want to cringe.

So instead of yammering on and on about a necrosis, I present to you a video from East Bay Punk band (fronted by none other than Billie Joe Armstrong), Pinhead Gunpowder. It's an awesome cover of Jonie Mitchell.