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Mutiny

Mutiny – edit.

Inherently Meaningless

I’m a mariner who’s lost at sea
And my notches in the stern
Tell me it’s been fifty days
I left my love on the shore
Sandy beaches I can’t recall
Solid ground is now fantasy
And with each passing day
The crew gets more restless
The whispers of mutiny grow
In the hold beneath the deck
Captain’s quarters closing in
My vessel moans and groans
As she’s tossed round the ocean
Seaworthy legs holding sturdy
In the midst of the turbulence
And the dull roar of betrayal
The crew, just like my lover
Are tired of waiting this out
Supplies and spirits waning
I know I haven’t got any time
Another day and another notch
They’ve taken me in the night
And bound my feet and hands
Led by torchlight to the plank
Hungry sharks circling below
Pushed off the edge, I plunge
Into the cold black ocean
My…

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Innovation

surrender yourself to innovation
unless you plan to be left behind
keep glancing over your shoulder
men in white coats are rarely kind

don’t blink as they inject the needle
in moments you’ll feel well at ease
and you’re right where they want you
so now you’ll do as they please

surrender yourself to innovation
unless you plan to be left behind
you can never outrun the machine
because it’s taken over your mind

to become the main exhibition
gawking at you during every show
you tap on the glass to cry out
is this how evolution will go?

surrender yourself to innovation
unless you plan to be left behind
take my hand and edge for the future
show me how you will be defined

Within Without Media. The 96 Hour Challenge. (Mass Communications Mid-Term)

First, an introduction…

For our Mass Communications mid-term, we were tasked with tracking our media usage for 48 straight hours. After those 48 hours, we had to cut it off and track what we did with the intervening time. This is a photo-essay of how I spent the majority of my time with and without the media at my fingertips. I hope you enjoy the 96 hour journey I embarked upon.

The first 48 hours of our Mass Communications mid-term. Tracking all media usage and the brain rot that ensues.

I chose this particular song because it illustrates excess and that’s what the constant media onslaught of this generation feels like. Excess.

Many hours were spent playing hack’n’slash adventure Torchlight II with two of my best friends from high school. We’ve been doing this for years, though mostly with Diablo II.

I may or may not look like this gentleman while gaming with friends. It’s hard to say, the glare of the monitor makes it hard to see any sort of reflection.

I spent six mind-numbing hours in front of a television screen. These are the shows I spent those six hours watching.

At times while watching t.v., I felt like this. Luckily, nobody I know is cruel enough to use the Ludovico Technique on me.

I spent five hours or so from here, Googling all the random crap my brain could handle.

Facebook, Twitter, GMail, Inherently Meaningless. After numerous hours spent wasted away on these fine services, it was almost time to cut it all off for the succeeding 48 hours.

The second 48 hours, time well spent enriching my mind… well, for the most part.

The perfect track for the cut-off point of media. It’s also ironic, so it should give you a bit of a chuckle.

At first I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was distraught, depressed. I thought to myself, I’m not allowed to use any form of media for 48 hours? Then a light-bulb went off in my head… I can drink the sorrow and turn it into brief happiness!

I may have had too much fun with all of that drinking.

Silas has no sympathies for hangovers. Early the next morning he had me up and we were playing in the yard. He was having a lot of fun…

After spending a few hours with me, Silas had clearly had enough.

So I decided I’d do some writing… two hours of it… I didn’t come up with anything good though, a bit of writer’s block. I got a lot of great material out of my psychology book though, as you can see here.

Then, to keep the good times rolling (see what I did there), I went bowling. Look at the exquisite form and motion… although, that left toe should be pointed straight ahead.

Lucky for me, despite the poor toe mechanics, I threw a strike! I was pretty chuffed with myself after that.

These were the scores of the four games I bowled. Not too shabby if I do say so myself. Remember, it’s candlepin, smaller balls (snicker) and smaller pins!

Day two without the media began with the construction of the Lego castle.

The King and his knights were marching toward battle to rescue the princess from the dastardly Dragon Knights.

A great battle raged on between good and evil….

But the real winner of the day was fun!

Finally, I wound down my 48 hours without media with some reading. First for pleasure. Black Holes and Time Warps from Dr. Kip Thorne…

… and then I did some educational reading to keep the mind sharp.

I awoke the morning after 48 hours without media. Things were a little hazy at first, but soon came into focus. After reading several passages from Thoreau.. as dry as it was, I was able to take away this passage: “To be awake is to be alive.” I was awakened to life with and without media. To be alive is to have a solid balance between both. It’s okay to let go of the cellphone or Facebook or Twitter for a day or so. Get away and enjoy life.

This live version is used because of the serenity and peace in the beginning of the song. It fits the ending of 48 hours of media perfectly.

Running

She’s spent her entire life running,
from something that’s bigger than she,
and with every passing empty glass
she burrows herself a little deeper.

Now talking aloud to no one at all,
counting the seconds moving forward,
as she flips over the hourglass,
they slide back down in reverse.

With hope that she won’t be noticed
however, it is only a matter of time
before the wandering eye makes contact
and pulls her back into the fray.

A wall of protest before she finally acquiesces,
fading into the cacophony of sound and lights,
dancing like an electric eel through the coral,
along the ocean floor.

Floating high with shapeless cotton clouds,
a soft blanket wrapping up her fears,
but the inconvenience of gravity,
will pull her back to earth again.

She rises with the bloom of a young spring,
and fades in the blight of a cold winter,
running from those she’ll never see,
but feels them all around her.

The Fall

They set off into the night with ambition,
as fantastic wishes and devious devices,
filled their adventurous minds.

The insatiable lust of golden treasures,
hardened deep within aging arteries,
blinding glinting eyes with hope.

The songbird flying south,
towing word of good news,
far from northerner’s ears.

Then the riding messenger,
dances through the dusky fog,
of his plotted demise,

A gilded arrow was true,
tracking its cloaked target,
piercing his heart.

An entire forest grew silent,
when he collapsed from his horse,
as if felled by the wind.

His kingdom forged forward,
but little did they know,
oh, how little did they know.