Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails posted this recently on NIN.COM
"Towards the beginning of my career in Nine Inch Nails, our biggest break came in the form of an invitation to perform a series of shows with Jane's Addiction. These performances essentially created and defined the term "alternative" rock in the US, created an ongoing festival franchise that is still thriving (Lollapalooza), set the stage for Nirvana to shift popular taste a few months later, and were really fucking FUN to play and attend - truly the best times I've had. The shows were epic. So epic, they propelled NIN to the "next level" (whatever that means), but caused Jane's to implode. The band broke up at the end of that tour.Fast forward to the present. Corporate rock STILL sucks. A friend tells me they saw the original Jane's lineup play a tiny show in LA that was unbelievable. I break out my Jane's records and am amazed by how vital they sound. These guys were the real deal and in this current climate mostly dominated by poseurs and pussies it was refreshing to hear something that sounded dangerous, volatile, beautiful and SINCERE.Emails were sent, phone calls were made, dinner was arranged, ideas were discussed and the next thing I know we're in the studio experimenting. We laugh, we get to know each other, we cry, we yell, we almost quit, we record LOTS of guitar solos, we discuss, we actually begin to all communicate, we yell some more, we become FRIENDS, we laugh again and we do some great things. I get to see first hand why they broke up all those years ago but I also get the chance to see four distinct personalities that become an INCREDIBLE band when they're in the same room.In NIN world, 2009 marks the 20th anniversary of our first releases. I've been thinking for some time now it's time to make NIN disappear for a while. Last year's "Lights in the Sky" tour was something I'm quite proud of and seems like the culmination of what I could pull off in terms of an elaborate production. It was also quite difficult to pull off technically and physically night after night and left us all a bit dazed. After some thought, we decided to book a last run of shows across the globe this year. The approach to these shows is quite different from last year - much more raw, spontaneous and less scripted. Fun for us and a different way for you to see us and wave goodbye. I reached out to Jane's to see if they'd want to join us across the US and we all felt it could be a great thing. Will it work? Will it resonate in the marketplace? Who knows. Is there big record label marketing dollars to convince you to attend? Nope.Does it feel right to us and does it seem like it will be fun for us and you? Yes it does.Look for tour dates soon and I hope to see you out there.
Trent"
If this means no more Nine Inch Nails I am a very sad man.
Other than that things are as they always are.... pure shit.
I am broke. I am sad. I am being vilified by my soon to be ex-wife. But... whatever.
I shouldn't expect more than this, should I?
an old post on an old blog:
May 1st, 2007 at 10:46 am
One of my fondest memories as a boy was the time me and a few buddies climbed “Frenchman Mountain” in Las Vegas, Nevada. Las Vegas is a rough place to grow up if you have a love for outdoor adventure, as the temperature rises up to and above one hundred and fifteen degrees. So, we rarely ventured out during those blistering summer months. We had decided on a Friday night that we were going to climb (conquer) the large mountain that sat behind our collected neighborhoods. We woke up early on a Saturday morning and picked up the necessary supplies. In my brilliance, while my two friends brought water, a flare gun, cell phone and tinder sticks… My necessity was copious amounts of “Beef Jerky” and Mountain Dew. Suffice to say I was dying of thirst after we got about half way up the mountain. Luckily my two good buddies brought extra water, foreseeing my inability to plan for an outdoor adventure. We climbed the face of that mountain and it took about half a day to reach it’s summit, but when we did… man oh man! The most spectacular view of Las Vegas you could ever imagine. We spent two hours at the top talking about life, girls, our hopes and dreams. We then began to descend. Being inexperienced climbers we spent most of our remaining day sliding down the mountain on our bottoms, thus tearing apart our worn blue jeans. By the time we just reached the bottom the sun was beginning to set. We later found out that if we had asked the older brother of one friend, he would of told us about a trail that set's roughly behind the mountain and brings you up to almost the exact same place we had reached by climbing the face of the mountain (with no climbing gear either). But, I wouldn’t have traded our mistake for the easy way for all the riches in the world. Our climb that day remains one of my very most cherished memories.
So... life is funny like that I guess...
Talk at you later...
The Captain
there is no fear here
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
have you ever seen the light
I feel as if I just can't seem to move beyond this unmovable rut.
I feel as if (and this has nothing to do with "suicide" so nobody panic and start calling help lines) my time on this earth is running short, like I am almost done or maybe outlived and expiration date
labeled someplace on my soul.
My medication won't be ready for pick up until Friday which = Balls.
I started taking Lexapro to help with my Bi-Polar mood fuck ups...
I am not really sure as to how I truly feel about this but we will see.
I wish I had more friends, at times I feel very lonely and that kind of adds a bit more craziness to the neurotic feelings I already have.
Here is some brand spankin' new poems by yours truly made up on the spot... and remember, it has to hurt if it's to heal.
A ray of sunshine!
I never could understand how you could smile at the sky and swear up and down that it was
beautiful just for us...
How the stars were ours
and the half moon in all it's Cheshire Cat smile glory was hanging in the sky
all due to our love and acknowledgement.
But not anymore.
I hope your stars still shine for you.
I hope your moon still hangs in the darkness over your head...
And, I truly hope with all my heart that it still makes you smile.
Baby, I'm your man.
I may be a mess baby.
all scars and sore bones and ugly face...
is all for you.
My fist clenched tight with my heart buried deep within my palm,
My eyes wet with sentimentality and fear
and the way I mumble through my words...
all for you darling.
This boat may be leaking but I will swallow away the sea water for you.
This cloud may be raining and the lightning may be flashin' but I will shield you
from the oncoming storm.
This road may be lonely and the path may be rough, but baby...
I can't stop to smell the roses when you are that much closer with every step.
Baby, I'm your man.
The lost tears of the last time I cried.
p.s.
Brandon, makes me cry.... yo.
I feel as if (and this has nothing to do with "suicide" so nobody panic and start calling help lines) my time on this earth is running short, like I am almost done or maybe outlived and expiration date
labeled someplace on my soul.
My medication won't be ready for pick up until Friday which = Balls.
I started taking Lexapro to help with my Bi-Polar mood fuck ups...
I am not really sure as to how I truly feel about this but we will see.
I wish I had more friends, at times I feel very lonely and that kind of adds a bit more craziness to the neurotic feelings I already have.
Here is some brand spankin' new poems by yours truly made up on the spot... and remember, it has to hurt if it's to heal.
A ray of sunshine!
I never could understand how you could smile at the sky and swear up and down that it was
beautiful just for us...
How the stars were ours
and the half moon in all it's Cheshire Cat smile glory was hanging in the sky
all due to our love and acknowledgement.
But not anymore.
I hope your stars still shine for you.
I hope your moon still hangs in the darkness over your head...
And, I truly hope with all my heart that it still makes you smile.
Baby, I'm your man.
I may be a mess baby.
all scars and sore bones and ugly face...
is all for you.
My fist clenched tight with my heart buried deep within my palm,
My eyes wet with sentimentality and fear
and the way I mumble through my words...
all for you darling.
This boat may be leaking but I will swallow away the sea water for you.
This cloud may be raining and the lightning may be flashin' but I will shield you
from the oncoming storm.
This road may be lonely and the path may be rough, but baby...
I can't stop to smell the roses when you are that much closer with every step.
Baby, I'm your man.
The lost tears of the last time I cried.
p.s.
Brandon, makes me cry.... yo.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
my god how my patience wanes.
I am at work right now and I could easily snap today as my patience is at it's very limitied.
Why do people think they deserve things they have not worked for?
What kind of fucking bullshit is that eh?
I am so fucking sick of being bled fucking dry.
But what the fuck ever.
I don't fucking care anymore.
I am just sick to death of people trying to fuck me over at every point.
every
fucking
day.
I hate feeling mad and annoyed like this.
I just have this feeling I am getting screwed over all the time.
fuck it.
I am trying to keep calm and breath, breath, breath through my nose and feel it rise in my chest. And I am trying not to come unglued. I am trying not to lose my cool and explode. I want to scream and cry and lose my God damn mind but I am trying to remain calm.
breathing in.
breathin out.
breathing in.
breathing out.
oh and here is some writing...
Keeping Calm.
Eaten alive?
Smiling into the face of unknown voids and
deep dark chasms.
Be a Hero.
Be Brave.
Be a man little boy...
Just for one night.
Breath.
Why do people think they deserve things they have not worked for?
What kind of fucking bullshit is that eh?
I am so fucking sick of being bled fucking dry.
But what the fuck ever.
I don't fucking care anymore.
I am just sick to death of people trying to fuck me over at every point.
every
fucking
day.
I hate feeling mad and annoyed like this.
I just have this feeling I am getting screwed over all the time.
fuck it.
I am trying to keep calm and breath, breath, breath through my nose and feel it rise in my chest. And I am trying not to come unglued. I am trying not to lose my cool and explode. I want to scream and cry and lose my God damn mind but I am trying to remain calm.
breathing in.
breathin out.
breathing in.
breathing out.
oh and here is some writing...
Keeping Calm.
Eaten alive?
Smiling into the face of unknown voids and
deep dark chasms.
Be a Hero.
Be Brave.
Be a man little boy...
Just for one night.
Breath.
Sunday, February 08, 2009
so as the fucking gigantic assfuck of a world turns...
my car is dead.
long live the car.
my life.......................
rocks.
hey guess what?!?!?
SOME POETRY YO!!!
Enjoy the stink of it's raw shittiness....
Oval
There has been so much terror behind these eyes
I have used my tears to wash my vision clean.
And now I finally write.
And it brings real pain to my hand with it's
lactic acid and heartache.
One for the devil child (Gabriel) in waiting
In winter's cold biting air I wait for my favorite
Tasmanian Devil to exit the learning facility he
so eagerly terrorizes.
I wait and can't wait...
Missing him so bad the mess he will emerge in will
be no bother at all.
Crazy (under the bridge with the fat ass trolls)
We build insanity on Love...
And love, on insanity.
It's what keeps us eagerly waiting in the middle of
a freezing night, standing under a car port.
And this misbegotten love pumps blood...
Warm blood into my heart.
I stand here like the lunatic I have fought through
the heartache to become.
Madonna
As we prepare for moments we are unprepared for, I look to my
saintly lady and she prays for my salvation.
Absolution will only come through the victory of all that is set to destroy
everything I have ever wanted to be.
Dirty Sluts make the whole God damned world go round.
He loved himself a methwhore spitting out raw poetry and teeth
while screaming down the moon.
He loved himself that charming scared girl in her black attire and
her always present stories of failed suicide attempts and vicious razor
scars up and down her legs and arms.
Old Cat
Grey and white old lady cat gets comfortable on my lap.
She purrs with her little old voice letting out a small raspy
meow every once and a while.
I run my hand down her head and back feeling her old bones
sticking out.
That's all she is now...
Skin and old bones, and full fur that makes her look far younger
than she really is.
When I was a teenage boy and the world seemed so hard and stacked
against me, I knew I could always cry to her and she would lovingly
rub her head on my face to wipe away the tears and rub a gracious amount
of fur into my eyes and mouth bringing on small allergy attacks.
I look at her now almost 15 years later and I can't imagine this world
without her...
As her little white hairs get stuck beneath the keys of the keyboard as I type,
type, type away.
For Baby, Love Johnny
Call Girl
I felt like a "Lucky Guy"
Whatever the fuck that meant.
I had a slightly used beautiful girl hanging on my every
over thought words.
And it didn't even bother me that she was paid by the hour.
Devil Child Part Two
I stand outside sniffing the air, it smells cold out today
with a hint of Mexican food.
The sky is an amazing blue with a scattered cloud here and there,
fucking up the near perfect sky.
I ready myself for the most dangerous child in known history...
My little man, Gabriel.
I am patient and know that his day will be that much more chaotic
and fun when I hand him his $1 Ninja sword I am holding under my arm.
Life is just perfect beautiful sometimes.
Washing all my blues away.
gone.
I am looking through cracked windows and trying to capture her
smile one last time in my fading memory.
And every window is dark or boarded up or are too dirty to see through.
Knowing all the while there will never be a smile on her face again.
Understanding the infinite annoyance of being a writer.
(well, at least pretending too)
Can I live up to the Olympian challenge of life?
I can strive for these fingers to be torpedo's and rocket's
blasting and exploding hot burning ink all over the paper.
Madman laughter spitting little bit's of teeth with every cackle in
my thick headed skull.
Trying to fill this writers body with a wee bit of soul.
Well kiddies it isn't much but let me know what ya think.
Milk and Kisses
Captain PirateFace
long live the car.
my life.......................
rocks.
hey guess what?!?!?
SOME POETRY YO!!!
Enjoy the stink of it's raw shittiness....
Oval
There has been so much terror behind these eyes
I have used my tears to wash my vision clean.
And now I finally write.
And it brings real pain to my hand with it's
lactic acid and heartache.
One for the devil child (Gabriel) in waiting
In winter's cold biting air I wait for my favorite
Tasmanian Devil to exit the learning facility he
so eagerly terrorizes.
I wait and can't wait...
Missing him so bad the mess he will emerge in will
be no bother at all.
Crazy (under the bridge with the fat ass trolls)
We build insanity on Love...
And love, on insanity.
It's what keeps us eagerly waiting in the middle of
a freezing night, standing under a car port.
And this misbegotten love pumps blood...
Warm blood into my heart.
I stand here like the lunatic I have fought through
the heartache to become.
Madonna
As we prepare for moments we are unprepared for, I look to my
saintly lady and she prays for my salvation.
Absolution will only come through the victory of all that is set to destroy
everything I have ever wanted to be.
Dirty Sluts make the whole God damned world go round.
He loved himself a methwhore spitting out raw poetry and teeth
while screaming down the moon.
He loved himself that charming scared girl in her black attire and
her always present stories of failed suicide attempts and vicious razor
scars up and down her legs and arms.
Old Cat
Grey and white old lady cat gets comfortable on my lap.
She purrs with her little old voice letting out a small raspy
meow every once and a while.
I run my hand down her head and back feeling her old bones
sticking out.
That's all she is now...
Skin and old bones, and full fur that makes her look far younger
than she really is.
When I was a teenage boy and the world seemed so hard and stacked
against me, I knew I could always cry to her and she would lovingly
rub her head on my face to wipe away the tears and rub a gracious amount
of fur into my eyes and mouth bringing on small allergy attacks.
I look at her now almost 15 years later and I can't imagine this world
without her...
As her little white hairs get stuck beneath the keys of the keyboard as I type,
type, type away.
For Baby, Love Johnny
Call Girl
I felt like a "Lucky Guy"
Whatever the fuck that meant.
I had a slightly used beautiful girl hanging on my every
over thought words.
And it didn't even bother me that she was paid by the hour.
Devil Child Part Two
I stand outside sniffing the air, it smells cold out today
with a hint of Mexican food.
The sky is an amazing blue with a scattered cloud here and there,
fucking up the near perfect sky.
I ready myself for the most dangerous child in known history...
My little man, Gabriel.
I am patient and know that his day will be that much more chaotic
and fun when I hand him his $1 Ninja sword I am holding under my arm.
Life is just perfect beautiful sometimes.
Washing all my blues away.
gone.
I am looking through cracked windows and trying to capture her
smile one last time in my fading memory.
And every window is dark or boarded up or are too dirty to see through.
Knowing all the while there will never be a smile on her face again.
Understanding the infinite annoyance of being a writer.
(well, at least pretending too)
Can I live up to the Olympian challenge of life?
I can strive for these fingers to be torpedo's and rocket's
blasting and exploding hot burning ink all over the paper.
Madman laughter spitting little bit's of teeth with every cackle in
my thick headed skull.
Trying to fill this writers body with a wee bit of soul.
Well kiddies it isn't much but let me know what ya think.
Milk and Kisses
Captain PirateFace
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How can you save me when you can't save yourself?
"nothing can save
you
except
writing.
it keeps the walls
from
failing."
— Charles Bukowski
you
except
writing.
it keeps the walls
from
failing."
— Charles Bukowski