lauantai 26. lokakuuta 2013

Why I Won't Vote.

I just watched Russell Brand get the usual "you don't vote"-treatment. I've got that quite a lot in my relatively short life, and I pretty much know how it is. These people, who are there to enforce the status quo, claim that you don't have a right to complain if you don't get involved with the society. They don't really care, if you are involved in societal activities (like working, paying taxes, for example using libraries and usually paying bills for  the books you forgot to return, therefore bringing money) quite a bit in your everyday life, the problem is that you didn't vote. I live in completely different society, but I believe this problem is quite common, no matter where you go. And I lived in Britain for two months, so I got a glimpse of that overwhelmingly bureaucratic and politically correct atmosphere they have created. Still, even in countries like Finland you always face the same accusations.

You don't vote, you don't have a right to complain. Yes you do. If things are fucked up, or even just wrong, you always have a right to raise your voice. It would be rather sheepish, if you didn't. It's easy to Not get involved in the actual THING, just vote, feed the monster instead of ever actually facing it. If you question your own relationship with the system, you'll probably get to know a little bit about yourself too. People who say that if you don't vote, you can't complain are trivial themselves. If the logic is, that voting grants you your voice, then you should only complain about the guy you voted for. Which in many cases does not even get elected. But you did not vote for the rest of them, so you can't complain about their actions. Voting is giving your approval to the system. And if you do not approve the current system, why should you vote? It should be the other way around: If you vote, you can't complain because you were the ones who chose these people who fucked you over. That's why I don't get involved. I did not choose them, they are NOT my guys. I voted once, because I saw it would change things, in our presidential election. It didn't, so I am back to not-voting. You need to try everything once, grandma always told me. And by the potential god, I loved my grandma enough to give even voting a chance.

Some critisize Russell Brand for not giving straight forward solutions. If he did, they would have critisized him for naive idealism. As he said, he does not have the burden of proof, in this case it is in the hands of the minority who profits from the current system; why should we keep this current system, since it only deepens global disparity between the rich and poor? Voting does not change a thing. I have only one solution; being humble and humane towards each other. In my opinion, that is the only fucking thing that will carry out a revolution for better. Long live democracy, fuck the system. Be humane towards each other, help each other in seemingly small everyday things. The revolution starts with individuals. If we surpass all the bureaucratic bullshit in our political systems, and just start working together, listening to each other, supporting each other, we can do this in no time, and the politicians will be left in their own thrones of apathy, licking their dry lips. We don't need anyone's permission to be human beings, we don't need to vote for that, we don't need any justifications for being nice. It's all up to us. Go ahead, start the Final Revolution. Now.

sunnuntai 20. lokakuuta 2013

Death drives me towards the arms of life.

The void. Emptiness. Non-existence. It is the thing that truly makes me feel that unwelcome sensation at the bottom of my belly, it is enough to drive me momentarily insane and to ruin my sunday for good. The very essential controversy in me is that when I create, meditate, write or do something alike, I try to get rid of myself. I need to reach the void of thoughts, of things, and merely just "be", be the hand that draws the line, beats the drum, writes the word. My whole essence is in whatever I am creating, it is my meditation. I would only be in the way of such event. I am not needed, I am but a vessel. My self does not do those things, it is merely involved like an antenna is involved when you listen to music in your radio. You could easily change the antenna, and the music would still flow through.

Still, I am so in love with this world and everything in it, that I find it really hard to think about letting go of it. To be more accurate, letting go of the chance to EXPERIENCE it. Death is such a terrifying idea, because it is inevitable, if I could choose when I am ready, when I have seen enough, it would put my mind at ease, but I think my life will be too short. I think any life would, because there's always something new to learn, something new to experience, some new traumas to face and absorb. But today I finally had one thought. Maybe the years may teach me how to face my mortality. I am still young. I can't expect to have my conscious mind as it is, it is always expanding, creating new connections. Maybe my potential children may show me, that the world will be left in good hands. I sure hope so.

And even if not, I hope that in time I will reach the point of understanding, enlightenment of some sort. I hope I get to be old, because in a way I've always wanted to be old. To be a father, a grandfather, someone who can proudly look at his children, and think the absurd thought that these people came out of my balls, and now they are creating people with other people. And to make sure there'll be clever, intelligent and wise people in the future too. I think this is my way of saying: World, I love you. I hope we all shape up and start a new sort of peaceful revolution for a better tomorrow, save the environment and each other, accept everyone for who they are and feed the starving nations with whatever little we've got. Life is great, enjoy it.

sunnuntai 29. syyskuuta 2013

I can't breathe.

I'm having a bad moment. Yeah. Everybody has those. Remember when you were kids and you played the blanket game with your mom, your kindergarten teacher or your babysitter? The game where you lie on the floor and people around you let a blanket or a curtain or a sheet to fall on your face and you laugh and have fun? I'm feeling like that, except the blanket is a ton of bricks and I'm not having fun or laughing. I just took a five kilometer walk to realign and to get some fresh air, and it feels like it did not help at all. I've been listening to Massive Attack and Peter Dolving and tried to face the things that cause this kind of thought patterns, but it did not help. I can't draw or play music, so I turned to my last straw, writing.

Sundays are usually heavy like this. I guess I have had too many good sundays, and now I have to face the Mother Sunday, with all it's gloom and weight. It's just quite exhausting.. And I'd rather not feel like this. And I know it's due to some really minor shit. Just some usually silent part of me wanting the attention of that significant other, but of course you can't drag another person down just because you feel like shit, so I rather keep my distance and try to disolve this by myself. I was thinking of how I seem to be unable to physically cry until someone dies. When death is involved in anyway, I'm a softie. It has always been my greatest nemesis. I am not afraid of dying, I am terrified by the state of non-existence, and though I know it is inevitable, I can't accept it. It's the biggest controversy in my personality, because I would not want to exist forever, I know this life has it's value because it is short, random and unexpected. That's why I do shitloads of stuff, to really give it all the attention and value it deserves, to respect life. Still it's sometimes hard to face the burden of existence, everything that comes with it, this flesh puppet that I appear to be dragging with me where ever I go. Sometimes it does quite cool stuff, though, I just recently drew these:
Intelligence, Compassion and Understanding.

  
Body, Soul and Spirit
And still I don't feel any better. I can't rejoice for anything I have done, because it's all in the past. I need to create to be somewhat sure of my existence, it is all just huge existential manifest, a proof to myself that I am.  Nothing I have done in the past matters to me, though they may fit some other moment as well, but still the past is not the present, and I am in presence, so I need to validate my waste of space and oxygen somehow. And if I can't get shit out, like right now, I get frustrated and anxcious. That's why I need to write... a lot.. Now.

perjantai 13. syyskuuta 2013

About reviews...

Why I Enjoy Reading Reviews Like This...

Well, we've done shitloads of records and sent them to many reviewers during our relatively short existence. Actually I think it'll be five years in just two weeks, so happy birthday to us. Because we lack the money to press more than 100 CD's at the time, it doesn't really matter how much we "promote" anything. And I resent the thought of "promotion" to begin with. It's just one more music-business thought driven to the skulls of musicians as it was somehow fundamental part of making music. It is not. And in our case it does not make that much of a difference. We still have those hundred copies and some shirts to sell on our shows, just  to get us back home from where-ever-the-fuck-we-are. So after sending them out and getting back chickenshitreviews that just say "Well it's grindcore. It sounds like Nasum to me." I thought is it actually worth it? Why just send it out to people who don't get what it's all about, don't give it enough time and just fire some more clichés you can read from every single grind review the same dude happens to write. I decided (no matter how elitist this may sound to some) that I rather read reviews that actually give me the impression, that the one putting it together actually LISTENS TO the music and respects music, no matter if he likes this particular album or not.

And lately I've been pretty annoyed by all punk/metal reviews I've read. They always get stuck on the sounds of the album. Of course they are somewhat initial part of music, ours too. Especially live, to reach the cathartic madness it's all about the resonance and dissonance and all that jazz. But everytime I read another soundreview, something inside me asks "what about the songs? How about them? Are they any good to Your Personal Liking?" Since every review is always a subjective view, I want the reviewer to give his actual subjective opinion, the way he sees things. The focus in music should always be on the work the musicians have done, not in the final mix which usually is a result of many accidents and incidents (for example with this record we had some sort of compatibility problems with the programs and the machines used, and it kept bouncing songs with different, unnatural speed and we needed to record them on a handyrecorder and feed them back to computer for mastering and it was kinda tiring process, anything can and probably will happen.)

Everyone can, and pretty much does reviews now. So we decided to give this to only those people, who I thought would actually listen to it. We sent it to Inferno Magazine, and to two webzines (Grind To Death, which made this review, and Damned By Light, which has always given us honest and interesting reviews.) Especially these webzines get my full respect for the work they have done for this sort of music (not just grindcore, but this under-the-radar-sort of music.) If you have a blog or webzine or a real zine or whatever, you understand something about grindcore (YOU DON'T NEED TO LIKE IT!) and you want to write a review of our newest album The Doors Of Deception, send us e-mail at cuttofit@windowslive.com

Also if you have too much money in your hands and you want to book us a show, or a short tour, we'll be more than happy to come. Here's the few shows we know for now:
-20.9 Motör Pub, Lahti
-5.10 PRKL-klubi, Helsinki
-7.12 Torvi (Famine Year, Cause For Effect)

And  I almost forgot, I'll be adding The Doors of Deception to our bandcamp sometime soon..

sunnuntai 1. syyskuuta 2013

Noise & Resonance as meditation.

I've been reading Jung's Polemic Essays, and there was quite a few that got me thinking. Today I read one about noise, and how people escape the silence into the numbing arms of loud noise. That is probably more true today than it was back in 1957, when the letter was originally written. We have surrounded ourselves with machines, screens and beeping things that keep our attention occupied nearly 24 hours a day, for quite a fe people probably pretty much exactly 24 hours a day. We use noise to distract ourselves, to drown and to numb that inner voice we all have. Because the ambitious whores of marketing have also realized this, they have filled in the void. Advertising has become the inner voice, it feeds us expectations, needs, urges and deeper cravings faster than we could ever develop ourselves, and because all thes voices seem so realistic, we take them as our own inner voices and let them volunteerly distract us. Why? Because their demands are easier to fulfill, than the ones' that other sound that we used to have, conscience, had in it's mind. This voice tells me I will be perfectly happy after buying a new set of furniture, the other would inquire that there's something wrong with ME, and that I would need to get off my ass and actually CHANGE something in myself...Fucketh that shite, new couch it is!

These people are afraid of silence and try to fill the gaps in noise. They have an almost neurotic need to create noise. They get frustrated and angry if they are forced to endure real silence. Silence introduces you to that other inner voice, that tells you those things you usually don't want to hear. I have spent most of my teen age years in the silence of the nature, of course it is not void of sounds, but most of those soundscapes it offers are tranquility in their own right. It's the complete void of mechanical sounds, of mechanical rhythm all these sounds have. It has it's own rhythm, which is way more chaotic, but essentially more soothing to all human beings. This is what disturbs me in almost all music: It is not chaotic enough. It is safe, it's rhythm is most of the time mechanical and dull (mainly because of metronomes, which bore the shit out of me, it kills the natural dynamics between different human beings playing in the same room) For this reason I have tried to create and find music, that would be chaotic enough, to be transcending enough to actually help me feel peace. I want music to be natural. No matter if someone thinks it sounds like shit, as long as it sounds natural, it's still more interesting than 98% per cent of everything else.

This is why I seek peace in The Resonance. It's quite hard to explain without sounding like a complete moron. I think everything is pretty much vibrations, resonance, interaction between things. Resonance is something that (according to string-theory) keeps the universe together, and to me it's the ultimate display of power. I find peace in the extremes. Either complete silence, or then the loudest possible dischord you can strike out of a guitar.. I never feel such peace as during the shows, when the guitar is resonating with full blast, to me those are the moments of peace most people find in drug abuse, they are the moments of complete freedom. I have no ego, no self, no ME. I need nothing. As long as my brother plays that guitar and our friend hits the drums as hard as he possibly can, I am complete. Without Self. It's pure, trance-like state. It's sort of Noise Meditation, that crushes me and rebuilds me from a scratch. It's the greatest force I ever knew. I need that experience every time I play live. If I don't actually get it, it leaves me thinking if this was worth doing anyway. That's why I feel somewhat uncomfortable doing anything else besides shouting. Singing-wise, I mean. I need to have that sound resonating through my whole existence, and there is probably nothing more effective, than screaming. It is something you do with your whole body, with your whole mind, and even with your soul. Soul is our conscience, third person-mind that helps us reflect on our own actions. When I scream on stage, all these three sides that create this Self are concentrating in just one thing, they are all just one force that comes out of my mouth. It leaves me exhausted, drained from all the shit I carry in my head, and I am ready to take another week of ordinary life with it's ordinary worries...it's ordinary shit.

maanantai 12. elokuuta 2013

All is well for now.

At the moment, I really love my life. I value everything I have. I get to play a decent amount of shows, I get to let out some steam that would probably destroy me if I couldn't. It keeps my shadows at their dark corners, since I get to illuminate my spirit with friendship, love, hate, all the huge emotions of the human scale. I get to express my emotions, I get to express my existential being, my subconscious through art and this writing-thingy. It's all connected in a way. It maintains balance, so that I have it at least somewhere in my life. I struggle to maintain the balance. I know it is a frail thing. I appear to be in good shape mentally, but it's all because of the on going work, I need to get to express myself to maintain the balance. If there's a longer break between the shows, people around me WILL know. Other people intoxicate their minds, not to maintain balance, not even to achieve it, but to wipe all their problems of the table. It doesn't make them go away. Even if they are scattered all around your floor, they're still in the room. And when the sunday comes crashing in, you need to pick em all up, put them back on the table and face them anyway. So I know I'm doing alright, I guess.

Last time I think I wrote about standing on the verge of something new. Now that new phase has unfolded in front of my eyes, and what a ravishing sight it has been. A girl. I made myself a promise almost two years ago. Never again will I try to act against my nature. That includes human relationships. I was certain there will never be anyone again. I've stopped searching for love, because I thought it is just a temporary mess in your hormones and inner-most chemistry and someone's feromones just tickle you in the right way for like a week and then they drop, and people confuse this strange crush for love. I thought relationships are just packages of endless compromises and settling for someone, because that is the pattern I've seen repeating itself all around me throughout my life. The only difference was made by my grandparents. but I thought it was just the exception in the rule.

Then this person entered my life. In a rather short period of time she made me realize there was something special about her, but still I kept all my guards up. I, as I once put it, am an agnostic of love. We met online, which is not that strange these days, I've met most of my friends online anyway, as I've written before. I agreed to meet her, and from the first moment I saw her it all just fell in it's place. I knew I never want to be with another person again. Still we did not consider it love at first. Since we both were kinda on our toes, we just kept smiling and staring at each other. We smiled, because we both thought pretty much the same thing, and we both knew we were thinking the same thoughts: This is so natural, it's fucking strange! I've never felt this natural with another human being, not even with my brother with whom I have lived all my life this far. We started instantly planning a trip to go meet all our families and relatives, how many of you have done that on a first date, huh? Couple of weeks later we did it. We went to meet each other's folks, we we're together 24/7 for two weeks and for almost 2 000 kilometres, and I can tell from experience that in such time you'll find annoying characteristics from anyone. Nothing. Nada. Her expriences and past have led her path to go together with mine. I feel deep gratitude for that. There's shitloads of random events and near-collisions in our lives, and still we met just now. It makes me even doubt the randomness of all, since it seems like we were bound to converge and eventually collide. I am not sure what I believe. I'm not superstitious, I approach this life as bare as it is, there are just people coloring nature with mysticism and that's pretty much it. Still, I can't help feeling love and feeling that for the first time in my life I really am loved. It's not a competition, it's not a struggle to maintain yourself in the endless ocean of compromise. It's just me and her, being our own individual selves and still being able to sleep in the smallest imaginable Toyota Yaris comfortably. We both have our personal space, and we both respect that. If that is not love, I don't know what is.

tiistai 23. heinäkuuta 2013

The Non-Existent Creator.

Things that I create
Create me
And all the things that create me
Are all the thing that happened to me
All the traumas that unfold in self-expression
The natural progression of this tide I call life
Endless strife to find a balance
I know I'll never find
So is it useless?
Is it just waste of time?
From my point of view that might be the case
But it's a trip after all.
It's a trip worth taking
It's a life worth living
An experience of perception
Sensation of existance
through this life of creation
This reality I roam through
I'm not sure are any of you really there
Or do you just exist here
So that you could once say goodbye to me
And to say good bye to the reality
And disolve in thin air the moment I close my eyes
For the last time.
I am not sure if any of us is real
But I want to let you know;
You're all quite dear to me.
I am not sure if I truly exist.
And since I can't be sure you exist
It's not much of a consolation
To have your validation for my existence.
This is the battle I can not win
The one that will consume me.
How can I know I ever existed,
If my existence is to be wiped away anyway?
We are all just swirling and dancing particles
And when they get tired of dancing with same partners
we cease to be
And then the particles switch partners
and continue dancing.
In that sense we are eternal.
But I am not.
The creator.
The perceiver.

lauantai 15. kesäkuuta 2013

Shedding skin.

Lately I've been dying. I know I am about to be reborn. The old me, the things that have defined me, the things that have been my Self for the past year and a half are making way to something new. I must say that I feel somewhat priviledged to be able of acknowledging such changes in myself. I know most people just realize years later that there were some turning points in their life, I can actually see the road ahead enough to tell there's gonna be some defining crossroads. And it's not the case with most people. I don't know what this new era in my life is about to bring me, I do not know how much of Me is going to get levelled down to the ground and how much will be rebuilt, how much will be merely pushed aside for the times being.

It feels like the expectations other people have towards me and my behaviour have become a shell. It shelters me from stupid people to some extent, but on the other hand I am starting to grow out of it too, and it's suffocating. So I'm simply shedding skin, becoming all that I was and someting more.

All I know is there's gonna be some changes. I am about to burn and turn to ashes, so that I can grow out of those ashes again. To me it is the most natural cycle there is, and I've gone through it many times. I am eager to see what comes out of this, but still slightly freightened, because the past phase in my life has been a pleasant one. I have learned shitloads of things about myself, my subconscious and my place in this world. I hope this new phase will teach me more humility, and some understanding of other people. After all, this phase will most likely involve another person. At least I have a strong feeling of such presence in my life right now. Affection and caring, an actual connection to another human being. I thought I was pretty much immune to such feelings, so they are quite welcome. It is far too early to even think further. Time will tell. I will find out. Now I'll just wait for the ignition, the beginning of the end, and the new beginning. I am excited.

tiistai 14. toukokuuta 2013

Something I wrote the other day

Being Zen is understanding that I is nothing but an endless hallway of mirrors. You stand in front of one mirror, and see endless reflections of yourself. But further you go down the hallway, the smaller and more distant, in a way, the image of you gets. It's just a mirage of a reflection of an image. It is a mask you wear, and every single mask is just as real as the other. It's not you, and you are not your masks.

My biggest trauma and my first age crisis was at the age of four, when I realized I will and that I must die. After that, every year has been just celebrating the fact that apparently I am still alive, perceiving this reality and expressing this inner world I have been granted an access to. I know I am not unique in anyway. I know there's thousands of people like me, and in eternity there's infinite amount of  "me"s,  exact me's, writing these same lines.

I walk towards the setting sun. Pebbles on the sidewalk cast shadows that seem to be out of proportion. They glide under my feet, reminding me of a music box, that plays the music of wandering, the music of the universe, pure existence. And for a second, I can only hear that music. The silence of everything, the resonance of eternity that surpasses everything and shows us everything. It's like shadows. When you cast light on something, that something casts a shadow on it's surroundings. The shadow allows us to tell what's the objects relationship with it's environment. Is it  small or large, near or far? And it's as grucial part of our perception as it is to see what the object actually is..
A Shadow.

torstai 18. huhtikuuta 2013

The Doors of Deception

New Cut To Fit album is more or less writing itself, we just need one more song and it's done. It's called The Doors of Deception, which of course is taken from Aldous Huxley's The Doors of Perception, which of course was taken from the William Blake poem. And someone else will hopefully steal this some day. Although I know it's quite an likely to have someone that interested in grindcore. But still. This record deals with THEM, they are us. We are them, the voices in our heads, the social roles we need to carry to maintain our status on the society we have decided to be part of. We build ourselves expectations, and make ourselves believe that people around us would expect us these things. It's a sort of balance preserved by mutual fear of breaking the social status quo.

We are also being lead astray from our own lives, from what we might consider important, if we would be given the chance to think about our values for a second. We are drowning in false freedom, we can choose from any brand, but that's about it. We need to choose our brand. And they conjure images and illusions for our eyes. We are being deceived by our senses, they are used to feed us thoughts and needs, hence the name The Doors of Perception. We are all born alike, intelligent, capable, active subjects of our own lives, but far too many of us are being distracted from their own lives, to lead a life of mid-life crises and neurosis and other kinds of psychological issues and feelings of unfulfillment. I have always been interested with psychology and human beings, and with practical existentialism, as in trying to find out what being ME is actually all about, and trying to figure out if what my senses tell me is true. The other night I wrote this thing, which was cut to fit the last song on the album. It's "lyrics of The Doors of Deception the extended 9 hour special version" or something like that.


I try to be as brutally honest to myself as I possibly can
I find it hard to trust my senses most of the time,
Since they seem to deceive me in every turn.
The sensation of existence, such brilliance inhaled with every breath.
In every breath, the promise to let go, with every inhale
The promise to exhale.
The rhythm of life, periodic system of repetition,
Beginnings and ends. All entwined in the process of maintaining life.
And with life, the conscious act to prove your senses either right
or wrong.
To find a conclusion of any sort.
To find peace, although you know there is no such thing
Among the living.
We are disturbed, out of balance, chaotic.
We keep swimming against the tides.
That is our true nature. To fight against the imminent.
Until we are proved wrong.
And even after that.
We are all just expressing our innermost selves,
When we refuse to understand the end,
When we refuse to see the death.
When we turn our senses elsewhere
When we could truly have a chance to learn
How they actually work.
We are afraid of truths. Any sort of truths, especially those
that are true. Because there are also false truths
The social kind of truths.
The kind of truths we need to accept to become accepted in return.
And those are the truths we choose
Instead of those we could find within us.
Other worlds, other words, other thoughts, other oblivions.
We let them remain unfound.
We let Them fill our heads with
These thoughts, These words, These needs, These urges
I need. I want. I need. I want.
Our senses do nothing but amplify these thoughts,
Since they were designed particularly to surpass our nerve-ends
Designed to reach and surpass the limits of our perception
To unlock, to fling open, and to enter
From these Doors of Deception.

sunnuntai 31. maaliskuuta 2013

Introverted.

Introverted people appear to attract each other like magnets. This is what I've learned through the magic of internet, whenever I encounter new human beings I find interesting, they are most likely to be introverts. This comes quite clear in very early stages of communication, and it does not surprise me at all anymore, when someone tells me they feel the same way about people and crowds as I do. I get bored with people quite easily, although many might consider me as a rather social type. That is as long as these people have something interesting to say, something that can keep my attention. As soon as they lose that trail of thought, usually when the conversation moves from something personal and intimate to something like sports or cars or drinking or sex, those are almost always instant buzzkills for me. I have taught myself to be interested in people to some extent, and to make it even more complex, I think human psyche is on of my main interests, which makes all the people interesting as long as they are speaking honestly of their own experiences, thoughts, fears and dreams. When they talk about something more ordinary and vague, I notice myself becoming tired and feeling uneasy, because I can think of million better and more interesting places to be or things to do.

But still, online I seem to gather some sort of peer network of introverts, without even trying. I want to have real conversations, which usually counts out all those who appear to be unable of communicating with full words and full sentences. I know it makes me sound like an old fart, but having such a beautiful language as English as our lingua franca kinda demands to be treated well. I've read most of my Huxleys in English, just for the sake of the language used, and I recommend it to everyone able of reading in English. It's just something extraordinary, and I know it has influenced my writing a lot. But back to the peer network. I find it quite funny I have to collect a handful of people from all around the globe to feel even remotely connected with the rest of the mankind, especially these individuals I share my life with. Of course they are valuable in their own right, as intelligent human beings, that have their own motives and reasons to do whatever it is they do, but sometimes I feel like the only sober mind floating on a small raft in the ocean of liqour-soaked brain mass.

But I know there's still shitloads of people out there, who are built just like me. I am in no way unique, and it's a relief. I've managed to find quite a lot of them, and have mostly the internet to thank for it. So everytime I find myself posting the "I don't wanna live on this planet anymore" meme when someone acts selfishly or foolishly for simply not thinking things through in this virtual reality of ours, I need to remember the simple fact, that without this world wide web I would have probably offed myself a long time ago. That's how powerful this peer network of introverts really is. To know, that although there's no one like you around, there's still thousands of people like you somewhere else, and we still have some hope to accidentally encounter each other in the real world. It makes me want to live on this planet for a little longer after all.

perjantai 8. helmikuuta 2013

We are eternal.

I am.
Therefore I can never cease to be.

Because I do exist now, as a apparently conscious and aware being, the fact of my existence will always remain. I know I will die, my conscious life will eventually come to it's natural, somewhat terrifying end, but nothing can change the fact that I am eternal. My existence is now removed from the list of Cosmic Possibilities, and written to the list of the Things That Are. I am no longer a possible being, I am concrete existence draped in flesh and bones and all the intresting goo and slime that keeps this thing together, thinking and feeling, having sensory experiences on this world. Of course I can not be sure if this world is actually the Reality, or not, but because I don't know any better, I assume it is. 

I don't really know why I started thinking of this, but I was thinking Descartes' "I think, therefore I am" statement. Being in itself is not enough, in my opinion. Being eternal is. And we all are, in this sense, eternal beings. We are just passing flashes of light, Manifests of Enthropy. But since enthropy keeps pushing all things from the small cage of simplicity towards the vast plains of complexity, we get to exist, and the Universe can add us to the list of Things That Are, and we get to be proud for our understaning and perception which are able to comprehend such concepts during our short-lived existence, the short flash of light. It makes this all seem so beautiful, it makes symbolic and seemingly meaningless words come alive. We can not understand the concepts of Infinity or Eternity, but we are playing our own part in creating such concepts.

We give them names, we give these names myths to fill their empty vessels with life, and still our own imagination is the place where all this began. It is where all our suffering began, but also where all our joy and hope got the igniting spark, the beginning of self-conscious human life, which as far as we know, is even universally a unique thing. Because you are born, you can never cease to be. Your existence will always remain a fact, you just are here to experience it anymore. The things we can't imagine, the people we can not think of, they are the ones I feel sorry for, since no one is there to miss them. But all these people, who live here now, and have lived here before, will be missed by someone else, and that is somewhat comforting thought. Because life is short, and bleak, and the end is always just few steps behind.

tiistai 29. tammikuuta 2013

I love Brazil.

We had some multicultural education sort of thing at school, we picked a country and prepared a short presentation for the rest of the group. I chose Brazil, the land I have never visited, but which I have always seen as my mental home, a safe place of some sort. I don't know where or when in my life did this affection begin, probably through Sepultura, which had a huge influence on me when I was living my teen age. It appeared to be this amazing band, completely different from all the rest of the metal bands, because they had something in them. Two things actually. They had a point, and they had the beat. Most of metal music is just harmless, meaningless buzz. It does not live up to it's reputation as somewhat rebellious or confrontational, it is just safe background noise that is all about really trivial and meaningless things, tales about slaying dragons and shit like that. I understand the level of symbols, but if you want to build stories with many levels and internal contexts, you really need to know how to write. Most of all the metal lyrics say actually pretty much nothing. But when I first heard Sepultura, who actually sang about all the shit they had to live everyday, it was like a rapid expansion of my consciousness. I instantly realised what music was all about, what aggressive music should be all about, grinding your own frustration to dust and spreading it equally amongst your songs, making a difference through something as simple as words and rhythm.

Through Sepultura I kinda grew into Brazilian rhythm music, and little by little I found more interesting things in the country. I realised though it has it's problems, as in highly polarized society, high crime rates and violence making it the most dangerous place for a young man to visit, it all grew on me somehow. Then when I was doing my civilian service at the museum in 2008, there was a Brazilian immigrant who worked with us for a while. We had many discussion about Brazil, it's culture and it's people, and the differences between these two societies. There was loads of things to discuss. Of course hearing stories from the third world always makes you appreciate the safety of the Finnish society, but still there was something inside me, that keeps telling me, that I ain't fit to live here, amongst these people and these traditions. I felt kinda honored when she noticed that too, and told me I would fit in Brazil perfectly, although I don't like football that much. I mean, of course I like to play, but I am not that good and I find it a bit boring to watch, like sports overall. But music is my thing, and the music is the thing that made me the most interested in this country in the first place.

Our drummer was recently touring South America with his other band, and he's been telling me more things he saw and experienced in Brazil, making me want to get there even faster. What I appreciate the most in that country is the people and the nature. The nature is an obvious thing to someone who spent his childhood reading nature-magazines and huge books on jungles and animals. But the people fascinate me maybe even more. How they are able to adapt to what to the most of the world would seem unbearable way of living, and to some extent still achieve happiness. And how they mix things, improvise, come up with something completely new. Nana Vasconcelos said in one documentary, how the african people where surprised with Brazilian music, since they use the same instruments, same melodies and rhythms, but use them to create something different.

Also one thing that made me like Brazilians even more was reading Paulo Freire,  Pedagogy of the Oppressed. It was one of those moments, when you feel like you are somewhat on the right track with whatever it is that you are doing, because there has been someone else doing exactly the same things before you. You are here to carry the torch and to pass it on. Make as much noise as possible, and to wake people up, to help them grow into their full potential and to understand their humanity better. Not through preaching and making people feel guilty about themselves, because preaching always ends up in biggotry, but through education and information, through the shared experience of human existence. Long before I found out about Freire's alternate pedagogy, I had a conversation with my friend, Alex. I found it kinda disturbing how much Brazilians spend money to invite the western industries and multi-national corporations to their country, and Alex helped me to translate a song into portuguese. We recorded it with Cut To Fit, we still play it live and my dream would be to play it in Brazil some day. And I truly hope it won't take too long to see this dream come true.

lauantai 26. tammikuuta 2013

On Huxley's essays and drug abuse.

Lately I've been reading Aldous Huxley's essays and lectures on the future of mankind, which of course now could as easily be could "the present state of the mankind as seen fifty years ago, but no one seemed to give a shit." It is astonishing how accurate his predictions for future we're, except he seemed to underestimate the over population a bit, since the rate has gone up faster and faster all the time. There are things I agree with, pretty much almost everything, besides some of his views on eugenics. But even those can be seen as a rebellious act in a behaviorist climate, where everyone seemed to over-emphasize the influence of environment over genes. Huxley saw that these too are pretty much equal, and shitty genes can be overcome by better environment, and vice versa, to some extent good genes and natural aptitudes can drive someone towards their "destiny" even though the environment would try and do it's best to suffocate this calling. By destiny I don't mean actual determinist end of someone's life, but the life of beauty and arts or music, or anything alike. There are great artists that can't be held back by ghettos or social exclusion.

Huxley has been a great influence on me because he seemed to be an intelligent man with an open mind and the will to grow and understand the world as it truly was, instead of letting someone else feed him views and opinions. There are some people I know, who just get into him because they've been tripping on psychedelics couple of times and they heard from their dealer  that this guy wrote The Doors of Perception. Most of them have ever read the book, and most of them never will. It was actually that book, that got me into psychedelics, not the other way round. And it was because of the intelligent grip he had on the subject, how he put that experience in line with any mythical experience, showed the link between religious herb/shroom usage and the appreciation of the jewels, all that jazz we are dancing to although we have no idea what band is playing. But it opened my eyes, and I became obsessed with his writings. It also helped me understand, that although I have never taken any psychedelic drugs, I've had similar hallucinations and visuals all my life, although not as strong. I dug deeper down into the early days of LSD, and found out that there were two groups inside the "cult of LSD". On the other side there was Huxley, with his intelligent approach. He wanted to keep the usage reserved for the intelligent people, because he foresaw the power of the drug. Not only the positive power it held for those, who we're clever enough to truly understand and cherish the experience, but also the destructive power it held for the stupid people who weren't. And opposing him the're was Timothy O'Leary, man who I pretty much despise for his PARTY ON!-attitude. While Huxley was alive, the people surrounding them we're able to keep O'Leary at bay, but as soon as this one of the greatest visionaries of our time tripped to his silent death, O'Leary was loose tuning in and dropping out. Shit got out of hand and LSD was illigalized everywhere.

I think we should really study it more, since it is a very potent drug. It can grow you into your human consciousness in one day, it helps alcoholists see their actions in a wider perspective and help them understand how damaging their behaviour is to everyone around them. And that in this time and age is not a minor achievement. I think everyone is willing to get fucked up, but no one wants to take responsibility. They just pass it to the left and escape the reality, which is pretty much what they make it. I have chosen to live this life sober, and of course some of it is fucking shit. That's life. If you deal with it, you won't batter shit up, you won't pile those problems on top of each other like a house of cards, just to wait for it to come down. Of course people can take drugs, it's one's own decision what to do with his or hers only life, but what I am suggesting is, that people should act considerately even with that sort of things. You are not alone in this planet, and you are not truly individual. You are just slightly different combination of all the same things we all consist of. It is our responsibility as self-aware beings to also be aware of each other and carry on the flame of mortal beings. I have just grown tired of these people, who refer to "regular" people as "sheep", but spend all their days looking for the greener grass. What does that make you?

keskiviikko 23. tammikuuta 2013

Voodoo music

Since someone reads these, I guess it is reason enough to keep on writing. Now I started. There. See? How do I follow a beginning that good? How on earth will it be possible? I don't know. I really don't know. Guess we'll just have to wait and see. Now let's see. What's there to discuss? Have you read any good books lately? Seen any good movies? Oh yes! I just saw Django Unchained, and I must say, that only because of that particilur piece of cinematic bombardment, Pulp Fiction and Inglorious Basterds, Tarantino is worth all the hype. When you see those movies, you know that this is the only thing their creator really wants to do with his only life. And I respect that kind of passion for anything.  If you want to build houses with such passion, You will probably build the best fucking houses anyone has ever built, after you get tha hang of it. I know I have that same sort of passion for all this, music, drawing and writing, and I really hope that someday I will be good enough to match that passion. Until that I will just keep on grinding these things through. Blues and grindcore, I think they go together quite well. Potsmokers seem to enjoy both. I like most potsmokers, although there are quite a lot of irritating ones too.

To me, music plays the part of religion, drugs, tripping, breathing, working, it is like Huxley's soma to my brain, except it makes me do mostly positive things and helps my cognitive thinking instead of paralyzing and numbing my mind, as most drugs seem to do. Now I think I have achieved something particularly interesting today. I made about twenty minutes of voodoo music. It was something Huxley called transcending in The Doors of Perception. It was enough to take me out of myself. It was experimental and fun to do, I just started making songs, and I had pretty much no idea how to do most of those things. I just gave in to the music, surrounded myself with plates and salt shakers and all weird stuff, and started playin rhythms, then played some other instruments on top of the rhythms, and that was pretty much how I spent yesterday and today.

Now here's a link if you are interested:
http://j-kill.bandcamp.com/album/houses-of-voodoo