Tom Waits

     Tom Waits. Tom Waits. Tom Waits. Alright fine, I suppose a little more explanation is necessary. Tom Waits is a mysterious, cynical entity that I'm pretty sure has been around for thousands of years, and, in the early 1970s, became a singer, songwriter, and actor.
     During the last half-century, Mr. Waits has built up quite a persona, a character who lives on the underside of the world, who came out of the days of carnivals and vaudeville,  who has seen more tragedy than he can mourn, who has seen more comedy than he can laugh at.
     He began to be recognized when he started opening for Frank Zappa. When it became apparent that he was meant for higher ground, Waits signed with Zappa's manager Herb Cohen, and his trademark raspy, gravelly voice was released to the world. He has continued releasing albums steadily up to now, and looks like he means to continue.

     In 1978, Waits somehow sneaked his way into a movie, called Paradise Alley.  He played he few more small roles until 1986, when directer Jim Jarmusch discovered him and decided for some reason to cast him in a lead role in an important film Down By Law. I think we can say confidently that Jim Jarmusch and Tom Waits understand each other, as they have collaborated on multiple more times, most notably in the 2004 film Coffee and Cigarettes. Other films he has worked on include Bram Stoker's Dracula, The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus, and Wristcutters: A Love Story.
     In the end, Tom Waits is a true genius, one of rock and roll's most eccentric personalities, a quirky, unflappable, sneering poet who was born too late for him and too early for our descendents. Here are some videos, so you too can discover one of the greatest,  most shamefully unknown artists of our time.

Mind Shadows

     I have finally finished the second draft of my book. This may be of no interest to you, but if you have enjoyed this blog so far, then you will almost certainly enjoy the book. When it is published. I do not know when or indeed if this will happen, but he who does not hope is he who does not dream, and he who does not dream is he who does not sleep, and he who does not sleep is he who dies. I prefer to live.
     The book is called "Mind Shadows."  It details the interactions of two individuals who inhabit a strange universe called The Library. I can't tell you much more, but suffice it to say that the plot is just as bizarre and quirky as the setting and the characters. Also, illustrations by my extremely talented friend Mr. J. Hubbard will be featured.
     Last but not least, here is the piece of music that inspired the title and much of the tone for the book: Mind Shadows, by The Legendary Darin G. Cook (*The first song on the page).

*All the other songs on the page are just as good, and well worth listening to.

Another evening, another cafe, another man, another mystery.

    This is another story by me that friend of mine. DON'T PANIC.

It's Raining.

 Outside the café, it might have been raining. Inside, there definitely sat a young writer named Miles. The thought that it might have been raining had just hit him, and it delighted him. I can hear it raining, he thought, but since it’s night, I can’t see it through the windows. So how do I know it’s actually raining? What if someone is trying to elaborately deceive me?
     Miles looked down at his coffee, which he had just got. I’ll try to figure out if it’s raining or not by the time I’m done my coffee.
     So, what does proposition A (That it’s raining) have in its favor? Well, he reasoned, that I can hear it, that it was raining when I came in, and that there is no obvious reason that someone would want to make me think it is raining.
     And what about proposition B (that it’s not)? I can’t see it, taste it, feel  it, or smell it, and it would be easy to fake a rainstorm for someone who can only hear it. Miles sipped his coffee. He was taking logic at college currently.
     Suddenly a man rushed inside. He was drenched. Ah, Miles thought,  very strong evidence for proposition A. With growing excitement, he realized that if proposition B was true, then here before him was the deceiver himself! Why else, he thought, taking another sip, would someone create the illusion of coming in from a downpour?
     The newcomer took off his raincoat, laying it on the back of his chair. He ordered a root beer (a surprising choice for someone who has just come out of a rainstorm). Miles stood up, walked over and said “Excuse me, I’m taking a survey, would you participate?”
     “Sure”, the man said, shrugging.
     “Alright”, said Miles, sipping his coffee. It was now halfway empty.
     He asked a few of the standard survey questions, pretending to record the man’s answers in a notebook. Really Miles was taking notes on his personality: calm, slightly grim, possibly an actor, etc. Finally he asked “Now, if you knew that someone was trying to convince you it was raining when it wasn’t, why would you think they were doing it?”
     The man looked surprised, then said “Well, I guess because he’s nuts.”
Miles noted that he had inserted a gender, his own. “Certainly”, he replied, “But even madmen have reasons, mythical or not, for their actions.”  Miles took another gulp of coffee.
     The stranger thought for a moment, then said “Well, I would say that he picked me at random, just a stranger, and fooled him into thinking it was raining just to show him that the world isn’t as stable and certain as we think it is, and that would mess up my sense of reality.” He said him instead of me, Miles thought.
     Again sipping his coffee(Which was almost gone), Miles said “Yes, but what if you were a writer, wouldn’t that idea give you an inspiration, for a story? And thus be a favor?”
     The stranger considered this, then said, “No I don’t think so, because if I’m a writer then I deal with things that aren’t real, so I probably already question our perception of what is true. This might plunge me even further into those waters.”
     Miles stood up, thanked the stranger for his time, and went back to his table, thinking. The man had seemed to want to put himself in the position of the deceiver, but that could be a coincidence. And he had a ready response to the victim being a writer. All in all, the evidence seemed to point towards proposition B. And yet… it seemed so unlikely, and why on this particular night, when the idea entered his mind, would he act? That seemed a bigger coincidence than anything the stranger had said. He got up intending to ask one more question, but the man had just left. A draft of rain smelling air wafted in as the door closed.
     Miles finished his coffee. His decision was proposition C: that it was impossible to say for sure. He walked to the door, but did not go through yet. He knew that once he went through he would know. Was he prepared for the shock, or disappointment? I could stay awhile longer, he thought, maybe get another cup of coffee, try to work it out again.

     Miles took a deep breath, and walked through the door.

     Back inside someone said “That guy’s gonna get soaked out there without an umbrella.”

The Meaning of Life

In my arrogance, I believed I was the only person to have figured this out. Imagine my surprise when I found this:

"Whats the point of life?
 To have to fun and try not to hurt anyone.
Enjoy friends, family, loved ones, laugh, sing, eat, drink, run, jump, create, help, share, work hard, muck about, sleep, dream, be well, die with dignity, be remembered."
                                                                                       --Ricky Gervais.