I am done with you '09.
I am ready for the future.
I am ready for rapping over Mega Man.


I am ready for a future filled with rapping over Mega Man.


So **** off, '09.

(mash-ups by edco0o, thank you for your mashery)

Love,
the dead minotaur

Labels: dead prez, mash-ups, mega man, outkast, youtube

Remember this?
Hope so. Wasn't too long ago.
If you were digging on F1v3.2's tunes, well, I've got some good news for ya.
One of our buddies just happens to sound almost exactly like 'em.
And now he has a home on Mongrel.


It's uncanny, really.
Here's to neither suing the other.


Love,
the dead minotaur

Labels: andrew parish, music, musician

Duck and covered the one-fell-swoop, seasonal stashed as elements blanket.
Awash, sirens flirting in the backdrop, buck and sway,
shake and quake, knuckles white around the world.

Blizzard in the blood again, beating in the blood again.
Tempo and crescendo go it's beating in the blood again.
None to know, none to go and beating beat beat beat again.

This door was locked before.
No clue what for but it's not anymore.
Tuck and roll, the one-fell-swoop,
klaxon intercourse steaming powder sky,
knuckles blanket beat again.


Love,
the dead minotaur

Labels: vistas

We're just rationalizing our surrender to physics at this point, objects at rest tending as you do, comfortable calling it comfortable, cozy and complicit in this old bag, the same old bag.



Born in a bag, buried in a bag, cozy and complicit.


Love,
the dead minotaur

Labels: comic, smiling bag-time jamboree

Perceptions shaped by natural selection would seem natural enough, yet in capturing the world in language the grammar twists translation until we're left with only an artifice in the image of our delusion. Whatever reality is out there has disappeared inside the bag of our means to understand it.



And once realized how shallow the bags really are, the tearing can begin.


Love,
the dead minotaur

Labels: comic, smiling bag-time jamboree

Mongrel Studios proudly presents a short dream by Gala Gershwin.




Love,
the dead minotaur

Labels: before you wake up, forget me, gala gershwin, movie

A friendly reminder: tomorrow we're all watching Gala's new movie.
All of us.
For the first time. Ever.
So that'll be something we can share.


Leland Barnes has already seen it.
Don't let him spoil it for you.


Love,
the dead minotaur

Labels: black and white, leland barnes, photography

Minds weaned on cause-effect rationale used to be good enough damn it.
Used to be good enough to be mistaken.
Good enough to be wrong.
It's still okay sometimes.
Sometimes it's the best.
But it's still harder to fill the bag than it is to decorate it.



Such fancy bags, such room inside.


Love,
the dead minotaur

Labels: comic, smiling bag-time jamboree

Here is the neatest-looking photo from the wrap party for The Roomies.


It was apparently taken by a lilliputian.
It's one of the few pictures of people not doing wiggly-face.
There are a lot of wiggly-face pictures.
I hear tell there's a production blog in the works now that'll pretty much just be wiggly-face pictures.
So if you were at the wrap party and would rather not have your wiggly-face all out there a-wiggling, then, well, gee, guess you shouldn't have spent the whole party doing wiggly-face then.
Figure you've got a day or two to voice your concerns.
Sending money might help more though.


Love,
the dead minotaur

Labels: photo, the roomies, wrap party