A Reading Man

Arrows may have slayed Smaug The Dragon, But his jewel-encrusted belly will always gleam on the bottom of the long lake.

Bard the Man could have saved more of his people, if only he had shot closer to Erebor.

A Hobbit changed the fate of Middle Earth, But it was his Uncle who saved the fate of a Kingly Dwarf. Is one better than the other in the end?

Gandalf the Wise guided the story, But the players were not swayed by a wizard.

Twas adventure that most called to the Robber, A most likely Thief indeed. 

Gully Foyle Jaunted through space, But in the end he took the secret of how he did it to the grave.

While he could cover the marks on His face, Anger reveals always reveals what we all truly feel in the end.

Anger a man who changed his stars, and you'll find a Hero lying inside. 

The Gouffre Martel could not hold Him, And the Love of His life was fittingly evil.

Olivia, Robin, and Jisbella, Three names that really hold the power of Man.

Jaunting through space and time to save them, Saving Himself in the end.

Hemingway was truly a man Who held the Stars as his Destination, But Running Rum was what he chose to express.

He Taught many to be Strong and Courageous, But it's not like Women can often relate to his Words.

Moby Dick is not the only Fish to vex a Man, For a Marlin too stymied an Old Man.

Fighting Franco the Fascist a Man named Jordan fell in Love, But He still had to die a Lonely death worthy of the Man who created Him.

Same goes for Jake and Frederic, Two Men who never really got to Hold the Women they Love.

Ernest's Contemporary more elegantly displayed the hold of a women's mystique, Making them equal or better in His eyes.

Hemingway thought Fitzgerald drank to much, But it was the longer lived who's Liver too ran out of time.

Boats may beat us back against the Current into the past, But in the Present of the story no other could describe so eloquently the intricacies of a relationship.

In the end Fitz and Zelda were Beautiful and Damned, But it is the Hope of a Green Light at the End of a Dock that Holds my Fixation.

All tales Great, All Magical stories, But what is it worth if we only measure life with Gold?

Tolkien, Bester, Hemingway, and F. Scott, Not far apart in the time line of a Man. 

But their stories all different, yet are still the same. 

Be it Space, or Earth, or the Realm in between, The Escape created by these Stories is always Serene.

Give me Life, Give me Pain, Give me Love, Then let me Die,

For the Journey of The Reader is But to Wonder why?

This is just something I jotted down while subbing a well-behaved class. I've been thinking about what shaped me in High School and what continues to do so in my world today. I know literature, especially classics such as the ones exampled above have molded me into who I want to be, interestingly these are all stories that are well steeped in history, even Alfred Bester's "The Stars My Destination" uses what was his modern time and the figures in it to shape the past of the dystopian future he created.

While this is not necessarily related to teaching, I have come to realize that well-read students tend to be the most well-rounded scholastically. I feel like if I can incorporate literature into my history classes one day that it can only help create better history students. People like Bernard Cornwell write very historically accurate works of fiction. If I can utilize this tool (I know, not a Web 2.0 tool), then maybe students will appreciate and learn from and about history in a more holistic manner. 

Running Out Of Places To Go: All While Finding a Place to Stay

The Swellers new EP cover

The Swellers are one of the few great up and coming alternative bands who have been floating around the alt-punk scene in these last few years. Masterfully playing his drums with a quick tempo Jonathan Diener enables the melodic voice of his brother, lead singer and front man, Nick Diener to allow their listeners into a different world, their world. As the leading members of the band formed in 2002 the brothers found cohesion, and a jump into stardom, in 2009 when they finally met committed members in bassist Anto Boros and their guitarist Ryan Collins.

Recording two albums with the current unit with the label Fueled by Ramen label entitled Ups and Downsizing and Good For Me, the Grand Rapids, Michigan based ban now finds themselves at odds with Fueled by Ramen and are thus without a label. Which is shocking to some considering the band has had success playing on popular alternative and rock tours such as the AP Fall Tour and Vans Warped Tour, and have been on tour with leading acts such as Paramore, Less than Jake, and Motion City Soundtrack.

           

Though The Swellers have no label they have surprisingly come out a brand new five song EP entitled Running Out Of Places To Go. Independently recording and producing the EP The Swellers have now caught a resurgence many felt they lost when leaving Fueled by Ramen this past April. Being released October 16th, it is clear to see the band has been busy over the summer in an attempt to continue its career.

             

Ups and Downsizing is a harder and quicker paced album with many songs being accompanied by a rapid drumbeat and intense guitar rifts. Good For Me is an album where the lyrics were more emphasized and held many slower, well slower for The Swellers at least, songs. Running Out Of Places To Go has found The Swellers successfully creating a sound somewhere in the middle.

           

Opening with the song entitled “Hands” the aforementioned quick pace is solidified and the lyrics emphasize a band who has found their own independence with lines like, “Oh, I'm tired of waiting for something to change/We're better than this.” With tracks two “Let Me In,” three “Bad For Me” (which is an interesting play on words considering the title of their most recent major album), and three “Making Waves,” keeping with a fastly beat drum rhythm and speedy bass plucking by Boros. Also Diener is continuing along with the angst-based lyrics against their previous label.

           

In “Bad For Me” Diener sings, “I woke up in this bed, alone but I’m okay, and I’ll remember that/ This will never get me down, no matter what it weights, yeah I’ll remember that.” Again this is heard in “Making Waves” when Diener screams “So thanks a lot/ Cause I’m making waves and you’re not/ I’m done taking bad advice if that’s fine by you.”

           

The final and title song of the EP “Running Out Of Places To Go” comes in a little smoother and slower and brings all five tracks full circle. It is a return to some of the familiar sounds found on Good For Me, all while keeping with the overall tone of the EP. With Diener coming off of the slower guitar melodies singing lines like, “This is for an audience of one at a time/ So I’ll sing it straight/ I’ll sing it loud.” But the line that symbolizes the band, this EP and their message to the fans comes at the listeners first with only a quick and plucky guitar solo transcending to all three vocalist screaming the words, “I miss my bed/But I can't remember how it feels compared to yours or any others/But thank you for letting me into your home (I was running out of places to go).”

           

The Swellers may be without a label, but the band just finished a nine-show tour in Australia and recently embarked on the commencement of an 11-show tour of the eastern United States, which began on October 30th. Don’t view this band as down and out for the count, because The Swellers are doing just what their namesake expresses, and are just starting to climb back onto another new and exciting crest.

           

The Running Out Of Places To Go EP can be purchased on iTunes and at the bands website, www.theswellers.com, for around 5 five dollars. 

Why Am I Doing This?

Why am I doing this?

Why am I screwing this?

Why do I open it up?

What do I gain from giving a fuck?

Who illustrates the way?

When are we going to get our due pay?

Where does the truth come from?

Where does the reign of the ostentatiously minded die?

Where does pretentiousness flee?

When will pedantically minded ones see?

Why can’t we open our minds?

Why do I not simply resign?

Who of us all is resilient?

Which of us will hear the call?

What wont we do to avoid the end?

What can I say to make this stand never fall?

How many eyes will cast down?

Will they blindly look as the voices cry out?

When will it be mankind’s turn to shout?

When can I begin to let go?

Where does the blind man tread?

To whom does the deaf woman wed?

Why does perfection rule the status quo?

When does time stop and start to count backward?

Why am I doing this?

When will I stop?

Why don’t you listen?

Will it all be for naught ?

Impulsive Grips

Feeling things is like,

Feeling things,

I don't like feelings, oh impulses where are you?

I miss you so.

The look on my face is distorted,

My eyes betray a soul that is contorted,

I feel like in this nucleus we have more,

Unfortunately it is the eschaton knocking on the door.

Tell me everything will turn out all right,

Tell me it is like this all the time,

But when she didn’t come back that day,

All control was lost and we had nothing

I saw her face in glow of the streetlight,

I knew I’d go before she even budged,

She was glistening like Galadriel,

Hewing into my soul as if being dropped in from above

Looking not to what we have,

I look to what we never had,

I was simple-minded and just a lad,

I was a child in the eyes of Eros.

Daunted I return to the scene,

Her smiling face serene,

Straight off of F. Scott’s pages,

Daisy here in reality’s final stages.

A picture of impulse I was,

Bended knee and head held up,

Staring down at me with doe like eyes

I just need you in my life is what I cried.

I knew nothing but that I loved,

So much in a span of time I created a rift,

I was on cloud nine thanks to her lift

For me reality being left behind was a gift.

Feeling things is like,

What she did to me in no expanse of time,

Impulsively I now walk away,

Wondering why I can’t go back to that day?

I would still be the fool I am,

I would still stand up and take her hand,

I would stare into her eyes, and she would know,

This is one grip that’ll never let go.

The Anarchists Soul

The Anarchist’s Soul is never quiet.

It delves in to the foreboding why?

The wondrous slide of knowledge,

Down the slope of hills built so high.

You may try and hold us back

Suppressing us to hold us down,

To bring us into cells of the void,

White space with no life or noise.

Blinders on full blast in society,

Today’s life a daze unseen,

No longer worrying about reality,

Solely focusing on trivial pursuits.

Looking for reason in all the wrong places,

Fighting the government against its own treason,

For treason verse treason is the name of the season,

Lies, Truths, Fears, and Confidences being poured in our ears.

We will not listen such a constant stream of shit,

We will stand in line waiting to break out,

For when we surge up as the mighty oppressed,

It will be such a blackout you will never forget.

Days will be long and the nights will be cold,

There will be one good thing though,

The relief of the weary, downtrodden, beaten, and old

The joy in knowing out none of us can ever again be sold.

The greedy will die out,

The just will remain in their stead.

The hate of the anarchist soul will turn,

 And become the beauty needed to sleep easy in our beds. 

The Perfect Fit

When you are fallen,

You must find your calling,

Or is there another option,

Is there one in which to drop in

We circle around the drain all day,

Wondering if we make sense of the games we play,

Acting like a shit because it’s all I have,

Spiraling down because the way up brings the drudge

The weary and the tired,

Forever together they are wired,

Forgetting where they need to be,

Only living in the muck of eternity

The thoughtless broken hearted

In the mire of things never started,

Stunting growth, and instantly becoming retarded,

Because failure knows your name and soul

At once I had you as a goal,

Now it is nothing more than an ember on a coal,

Lust overcame love for a fleeting moment,

And it was then I forever knew we’d never be whole

Tell me why oh why do I think at night,

It is the reason I begin to drink at night,

Waking up hung over and up,

On to the new day I must trudge

I am not the downtrodden,

I will not be the forgotten,

But there is one thing I cannot forget,

The fact that you and me could be a perfect fit. 

Judgmental Eyes

When history looks back on us to learn,

They will see the stupidity of a worm,

A beast out of its hovel,

Grasping out only to be squashed by tomorrow's shovel

Why, oh why, do you turn to us with your eyes?

For we are the beaten, the broken, the damned,

We are the culture of phones in hands,

Computers on a lap’s, office's taking naps,

The continuously connected disconnected

Why, oh why, do you turn to us with your eyes?

All of the sudden things once said will have come and gone,

The questions pondered daily will be mindlessly quoted in tomorrow’s songs,

Dylan once said the times are changing,

He just didn’t know it would be forever-long

Why, oh why, do you turn to us with your eyes?

I pray we do not bequeath a future of what is already dead,

A world of Zombies, walking alive yet undead,

Orwell you had it when you taught us creative thinking would die,

Only 1984 has gone and passed you by.

Why, oh why, do you turn to us with your eyes?

Leaving it all in time behind time,

Killing the lessons for a service new and unrefined,

We could have given so much,

Instead we created access to always dichotomize richer and poorer.

Why, oh why, do you turn to us with your eyes?

Dean had it right; we need to dream as if there is a forever,

But dying today became an unacceptable way to live,

We fought and sought for the evermore,

But in this battle we could never settle the score

Why, oh why, do you turn to us with your eyes?

Is it payback for believing our lies?

Constantly seeking a better tomorrow,

And all we have now is constant sorrow,

And now it’s being returned by your judgmental eyes.