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From LA – Shooter Jennings and Stephen King Exclusive!

February 16, 2010

With just two short weeks until Shooter Jennings releases his masterpiece, Black Ribbons, I wanted to highlight the album’s narrator, Will O’ The Wisp. The character, voiced by acclaimed novelist Stephen King, is a late-night talk-radio host who painting an apocalyptic picture of what America could become in the not-so-distant future. Please share this info with your readers in anticipation of the album’s release on March 2nd.

“Tonight I’ve chosen to play the one band the American Fascicrats don’t want me to play. Tonight I’m going off the air with the music of Hierophant. For those of you not familiar, you’ll get a taste of Hierophant’s music tonight – their message, their light.”
-Will O’ The Wisp

The Black Ribbons album represents the last hour of Will O’ The Wisp’s final broadcast before the airwaves are overtaken by “government-approved and regulated transmissions.” In retaliation for his muzzling, he speaks his mind like never before, punctuating his rants with selections from the discography of Hierophant. Throughout the album’s 14 songs, Will O’ The Wisp offers his loyal listeners—from whom he is about to be permanently cut off—the unvarnished truth.

At its core, Black Ribbons, is a concept album about truth—searching for it, locating it, wrestling with it and eventually coming to terms with it. From the opening track (and lead single) “Wake Up!,” a pummeling psychotropic stomp that sets the album’s tone, to the synth-injected paranoiac anthem “When The Radio Goes Dead,” this elliptical narrative takes the listener on a harrowing, life-affirming and altogether rapturous journey.

With Black Ribbons, Shooter Jennings has created something true to himself, to his art and his beliefs. Sonically, it draws from Jennings’ disparate influences—the Beatles’ White Album, Skinny Puppy and Ministry to Lynyrd Skynyrd and Black Oak Arkansas. At the same time, it forms an intensely personal song cycle, as this young artist probes his own roiling psyche and the tumult of modern-day existence.

Shooter’s homemade Black Ribbons commercial: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ktm5btMpU_w

Wake Up! Stream:
http://www.idesignprod.com/shooterjennings/audiostreams/WakeUp.asx

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Good News For 2010 – Eric Is Completing His First Novel!

January 13, 2010

Yummy.

He is our naked one. Eric America has, after being asked by some agencies and one publisher, concentrated creative efforts on a work of fiction. We’ll announce the title and do an excerpt when he has chosen a publisher and agent to give the ok. Now some scores from around the world:

2

12 – 5

Love – 15

7

0

It is a wonderful day when you are able to dance within the hours by letting your mind wander into all of the places it shouldn’t when working or student(ing?) I have been unfortunate for a long time, and I thank all those who have written and helped boost our rankings on Blog Catalog while identifying with some of the emotions laid out in “Hide Our Smiles”. As many know, I am a a musician and a poet. Fiction-writing seemed like a marathon run where I would have to keep a consistent thread during the whole process. I didn’t see it being as fun as writing songs or poetry. I was wrong. I am having a great time slowly building characters and working on moving them through a gauntlet of sins. Stick around for the updates. We will have a party in NYC and maybe other cities to launch the book!

-NakedE

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Lo-Pro is Killer and Also Our Friends! Enjoy This – “Texas” Live

December 26, 2009
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When I Said I’d Die For You (I Didn’t Mean You Could Kill Me) – Cody Peters Poem

December 21, 2009

When I Said I Would Die For You (I Didn’t Mean You Could Kill Me)
For My Squirrel (to her utter disgust)

The world leans on an empty chair
I look for her everywhere, in faces and pastimes
I settle for less and curse her for the sting
Pain now issues forth from the wound regret
I am only now, years apart, ready to write, to think these word of truth:
Her soul is my heart and I have been dead since our final embrace
These hands that wipe tears once held her every night
These tired eyes once filled with her radiant light and her effortless beauty
I feel disconnected from these senses, like an interloper or
Startled tourist of Bethlehem saying,
“Wow, that happened here?
But this looks like nothing but a barren desert…”

Command of folly has been my forte
remixing nothing and tinctures of anesthetic blockade
I never got back on my feet after I crushed her with my self-destructive shadow
He assumed a passenger and blinded me with comfort to earn my attention
Undivided after cutting loose the woman who owns my heart
Now I am ruled by this rusted regime
I am trying to move, not to love. To live, not to exalt
Now I endure when with her I would enjoy
Now I get by when with her I would conquer

A lesson didn’t surface, ‘spite the old pomes, adages, and sages
No greater good was to come from my imprudent adherence to the shadows
I crush myself to think I once considered her anything but my destiny
A day in that life would be heaven to me now
Knowing she would smile at the thought of us and be there when I slept
I go crazy in the aftermath, this also-ran slice of a life that looks stellar from the out
I smile in grotesque amusement at the lengths I’ve gone to push away her beautiful face
Her beautiful emergence in my life as the towers fell was as sure a thing as I could tell
I am soaked with this jealousy for myself because I had her and she loved me
She really did and now I am grown up to see that I was so ungrown back then
So childlike to think that it was my heart that was broken
I know better now that what was broken was not my heart, but my soul

She wants to keep away and now lives in another land
Ice fills my chest as I realize that I actually agree and understand
Stay away. I hurt you too many times.
Though I know I would move heaven to have her here on Earth
Though I know I would be a perfect lover, the knowing is the spire
The tack of evidence, my tries to fool reason are a long-winded waste
A time to kill and no one better than myself for my pain, so hard to explain
Will keep me bleeding until the rusted shadow takes me home.

But I would miss her in Heaven
I would miss her in Hell, asleep, in chains or a throne
I would miss this woman in paradise and my forever will always know
That all I do and Those I love are merely ghosts as the eyes of my passion
Are always scanning the skies for

She, Always With My Heart.
Only she can rid my life of this monster
but she has much better things to do…

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Hot Megan Fox Video Posted Because My Penis Took Over…

December 16, 2009

http://www.esquire.com/the-side/video/megan-fox-video?bcpid=21913413001&bctid=21845810001

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Spectator and Specimen – New Poem by Cody Peters

December 14, 2009

Spectator and Specimen
By Cody Peters

Bright light where every blemish ever suffered shone like a dark
ray from a broken star in heaven paints the canvas of twilight in another lonely moment
I am alone in this and words to a wordsman are futile messengers and vessels
As a rendering of this everything I seek to leak an account
Pain is a way that direction is delivered and courses corrected
In the hands of some it is a weapon wielded for reasons a spectrum can tell.
It is the most vile of nasty life parts, but second to only one subpart of pain
the worst suffering in the world is pain, but worse than that
I suffering pain with no clear genesis and
without a name.

The world floats in venom behind an illusory pane of glass
when I stray into nights made for sleepers I am joined by little terror goblins
because my mother told me that she was going to do suicide tonight
this happens a lot since father tried to exit the world by refusing medical help
as he slept in pools of perspiration and lost his mental staminaut
His braing inevitably exploded and the told you so gambit meets the
how could you do this to me ruse while what a tragedy is somewhat obscured
by other faces like a train station in Venice always going somewhere but you know better.

There is no name for the terror that has evolved into nameless suffering
I have had doctors shed a tear at my virus of a story
the collective docket of answers asks me the same question and it is
How can you endure? How do you soldier on?
I always smile because I remember the answer as it is supposed to be
and what it really is
It is supposed to be because I believe in a better tomorrow and do my best
but it is really something more childish and silly
I think that I have a unique opportunity to study, from the inside, the life of a man
who has been stricken with so many ills of life that it has become a curiosity to see
exactly how this will turn out and so the true impetus for my apparent strength
is childish curiosity and awe
I am simply amazed at how terrible my life is turning out
and awestruck by the complete absence of any fortunate turns or luck
I have made so many downward turns that I am now heading upwards
I am punch drunk and thrilled
Both as spectator and specimen.

I should be there for them, I moved home to support family while we endured tragedy
My mom told me she is going to kill herself tonight.
I am the cause of her suffering and disarray. I sleep too much and break too easily.
When Dee Ann Rothman suspended me from law school for stealing a phone I didn’t steal
(and actually own said phone myself – it’s identical!)
I collapsed, breathless on the black portion of the parking lot.
When they called for a paramedic I waited for my chance then lept into my car
I had to escape Newark. But the trauma was unbeatable. I began to cry so hard my throat hurt.
I could make it through law school for almost a year when my father was in a coma
But this whimsical charge by Dee Ann Rothman would collapse my house of cards.
I was not able to grip this grenade lobbed by the circumstance.
I was committed to NY Pres.
I was a danger to myself.
I broke and this time is was serious.

One month has passed and today mom told me that
She has “no idea” why I couldn’t continue taking classes and just appeal my suspension.
She told me that she and dad were shocked and disturbed by what had happened
Oh, and she wants to kill herself.
I asked her what I could have done better. She doesn’t know I was passed out and the throat crying stuff.
She thought it a challenge and yelled at me that she didn’t know and why should she always
Have to deal with this. Why did I do this? They can’t believe it. How could this happen?
(read: you’re obviously not telling us something because this is impossible. You know how
you can get.)

Back to verse, and in time for a sweeping muse to collect me and drive
since narrative pales in comparison to fun, I will put away and then I
and pick up my darker skies ripped into a cascading sunrise although part of it left unannounced
and without sufficient plain-clothes security to beckon day 2 of this riddle chain of disappointment

I am the cause
I sleep too much
I smile too much
I leave cups in weird places
I ate too much bread
I didn’t eat enough dinner and don’t know how much this costs and by the way owe mom and dad
70 thousand dollars for raising me – oh little things like helping me pay for books, my car, and lending a hand with those pesky doctor bills that were another luxury my parents afforded me which of course should be paid back with a generous 0 percent interest despite the fact that said debt goes back to 1992 when I was 14 years old and starting to become a real financial burden but lucky for me there was a benevolent bank of mom and dad to loan me the money I needed for all the luxuries in life and that they had a wonderful records system which would keep track of every dollar borrowed secretly until an opportunity came along to collect the money which of course is rightfully that of the parents because I ASKED to be BORN and asked to have a cold and well, the world is tough so you better get used to it, you’ve been a burden ever since you were born and here’s the bill son, here’s what it cost to raise you, here’s what you owe us for feeding you and clothing you and all those thing SPOILED children get because when I was a kid I walked everywhere and worked since I was a fetus and no one ever gave me anything but grief and that’s the way the world is and you have to just get used to it but get used to it after you pay us back 70 thousand dollars for being your parents then you can consider yourself current on the 17 year line of credit we have opened for you because we are good parents. Pay up. The money is compensation for injuries suffered in your jaws-of-life car accident? So what, we want our cut.
So what, we want our cut.
So what, we want our cut.
So what, we want our cut
So what, we want our cut

My mom is downstairs complaining to my father about me
I am a burden. I am broken. I am a failure.
I am the specimen
and the spectator.

You just don’t get better seats to a tragedy than this.
Aren’t you curious about how this will turn out?
Here’s a hint:

Someone is going to die
Soon.

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NonPoint Studio Update – Keep The Comments Coming!

December 14, 2009
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