Notes Off Key - A Quinn Allan Blog

The Arcade Revelation

2010-08-26T22:19:00.000-07:00

    I was having a stimulating conversation with some friends last night on one of my favorite topics… life and its meaning. Unfortunately, given the loud nature of the setting and the sensitivity of the subject I left feeling that my message was not accurately conveyed. As I sat in meditation later, my mind started organizing the thoughts that would enforce the point I was trying to make. So here I am, about to write a mini dissertation on the breakdown of the fundamentals of human nature. Enjoy.

    It should comes as a surprise to no one that humans are dominated by emotion. This is a well known fact, one which to some degree, we experience on a daily basis. If we bothered to try, in fact, we could probably break down every decision we’ve made, consciously or otherwise, to the emotion it stemmed from. This, as we are told, is just human nature. From the time we are little children we quickly learn that “such and such” contact or experience makes me feel sad or bad, and “such and such” other contact or experience makes me feel happy or good. At this point it doesn’t take much conscious effort to draw the conclusion: “I should make my life about avoiding the bad, and getting more of the good”. This is of course a simplification, but if we are totally honest with ourselves we can easily see how much of our life is preoccupied with this practice. One of the problems, existentially speaking, with this is that because it comes as a natural impulse to avoid bad emotions and seek good, we take this balance for granted and assume that it is a vital function to our nature. I will attempt to prove that this is not so.

    So, if we have the courage to admit to ourselves that yes, in fact, our lives on almost all fronts have been dominated by our emotions, then we can start to analyze and understand the next big part…why? But it’s not as easy as all that. If there’s one thing the human consciousness, or “ego”, hates, it’s being simplified. I have had innumerable conversations, where despite the philosophical evidence I was presenting, the other person will adamantly refuse the information because it’s demeaning to their ego and the “specialness” of the human existence. What I mean by this is that people fundamentally feel that they are a unique and a separate entity from the rest of the world and to entertain an idea that would require that view to be disassembled is simply asking too much of the listener. So bear with me as we move forward and try to suffocate that feeling that arises that makes you want to toss this information out, as early French scientists did meteors, because in conflicted with their understanding that the only thing that’s above us is heaven.

    So why do we let emotion rule us? Why is it so important to us? Most people think that emotions are only felt by humans, but more and more studies are suggesting that many types of life forms feel emotions, especially other animals. But other animals are not dictated by their emotions, rather instincts. There’s a good reason that we like to think that we are the only beings that feel emotion and why the idea is so popular, that reason being because we use emotion to define ourselves from our surroundings. Think about it… “I got picked on today, and that made me feel bad, because it hurt my feelings”. The experience of this emotion defined you, the victim, from your attackers through the emotions it made you feel. To one degree or another, however small, this is true of all emotions.

    Let’s think of emotions like little blocks. We keep taking these blocks and stacking them, one on top the other. And what we are doing is starting to build a wall, a little fort, around ourselves made of emotion. We build and build and build, painstakingly trying to define ourselves from the rest of the world. We instinctively feel a need for this because after the idea takes hold of us that we are a separate ego, there consequently comes questions that can’t be answered. “Why am I separate”, “Why am I special”? Because there is this massive torrent of information and activity all around us, known as life, we seek some stable ground or vantage point to reflect from and it becomes necessary to us to first find that defining line between where “I” end, and “everything else” begins. This all sounds relatively complex but it actually comes to you as a natural part of your development. It has less to do with the way we are built though and is more so a product of consciousness. It is also a false view.

    And so we go on and on building our little fort of emotions. And some people will tell you that this is where it ends. That this is the point of it all, to just try and make those experiences and emotions be good ones and weed out the bad ones, or at least not let them get to you. But there’s a bigger problem that stems from our supposed nature to trust emotions… eventually (whether or not you experience it early in life or, as most do, later) you find yourself all alone in this fort you built and you feel trapped, too isolated. This constant reliance on emotion has become our support system and when we don’t have emotion, good or bad, we crave it. In this way we have become trapped by our emotions, a slave to them, even the positive ones. This is one reason why the elderly seem so distant to us, so unlike ourselves. Because their lives aren’t filled with such constant back and forth motion between polarities, it’s slowed down a bit. And, sadly, for most of us we are left reminiscing and longing for the days when we were young and filled with strong, vivid emotions like hope, love, lust, or even anger and greed. Even sadder still are the ones who’ve isolated themselves so much with their separate emotions that they feel threatened by and begin to hate those who are different, whose ideas may chip away at their fort.

    Logic should then dictate that in order to avoid winding up trapped in our illusionary world we created for ourselves from emotion, we should eliminate the want or need for those feelings. And this is where even more people stop and refuse to follow this path further. Why? Because now it sounds bleak, hopeless. A world where I shouldn’t pursue feelings like love, passion, pride, and happiness? No thank you, I’ve heard enough. But this is not where it ends. The point here is not to just understand that emotions are a trap and therefore never feel emotions, which is actually impossible. The point is rather that it should be your aim to turn the blocks of your emotional fort into translucent ones. To see through them to the rest of life around you which you, despite your best efforts to think otherwise, are very much a part of. If you can manage to see that these emotions are hollow, void of anything of lasting use to you, then you will find they can still exist but will be like links of a chain which, upon realizing that they are not really there, cannot bind you. It is in this way that you can come to a balance where you still get the emotions but they don’t wind up being the deciding factor on whether your life experience is a happy one, or a sad one.

    This all may sound confusing to you, and understandably so, I had to unlearn most everything I learned through being raised as a human being to start applying it. Or perhaps it’s not confusing. Perhaps you intellectually understand the concepts I’ve presented. But understanding is not enough. Understanding alone will not fix the false views. You have to cultivate a mind that can accept these ideas and put them into practice, a fertile ground for these seeds to take root, otherwise it is sand passing through your closed fist.

I’d like to close with these quotes from the Buddha…

“Believe nothing, no matter where you read it, or who said it, no matter if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense.”

“However many holy words you read, however many you speak, what good will they do you if you do not act upon them?”

Flesh of the Living: A One Man Debate on Modern Vegetarianism

2009-11-03T19:41:00.000-08:00

    I live in Portland OR. For those who have never been to Portland, trust me when I tell you that it is overflowing with progressive, pseudo-intellectual youth. Among the many health conscious fads, that make the denizens of this city so unique, are two popular lifestyle choices: vegetarianism and veganism. Obviously these lifestyles are not solely restricted to the Pacific Northwest, but there are few other cities that cater to these herbivores in such a vast array of meat and animal-free ways.

    Let's begin by differentiating between the two. A vegetarian is someone who does not eat meat. There are exceptions, of course. Some vegetarians believe that fish are fair game. Sure they have a heartbeat and a desire to live like any other animal, but screw it, they're fish. While steering clear of animal flesh (or most of it) the vegetarian is known to still eat other animal products, namely dairy and eggs. Every so often (as it is in the case of my girlfriend) you get a pretty particular vegetarian who will go to some unusual extremes to avoid accidental exposure to animal flesh. This includes ensuring their food was not cooked on the same grill as meat, that there are no animal ingredients, like lard, in beans and other fried foods, and even avoiding things like carmine, a food coloring used in candy that's made of insect husks. (Yes it's true, I looked it up.)

    A vegan is like a vegetarian who was exposed to the ooze from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2: The Secret of the Ooze. (Or TMNT 2:TSOTO as it will be referred to herein) A vegan will not eat meat, nor any product that comes from an animal. No eggs and no milk, which means no dough, no cheese, and no flavor. I think honey is ok, but I mean come on, honey is like natures Twinkie. Seriously, it never goes bad.

    People turn to these lifestyles for a lot of reasons, usually health related. But a big reason to beat the need for meat, especially up here, is a strong belief against taking the life of an animal. Usually, closely tied to this belief is a disapproval for the conditions and circumstances in which livestock are raised and treated. Now after living with a vegetarian for a number of years and having many, many friends who are either a veggie or a vegan, I've heard nearly every argument that can be hurled at a meat eater. Yet I continue to eat meat. Not much, mind you, I never developed much of a taste for red meat or pork, but chicken and turkey are a staple of my diet. Even after all the countless discussions about weather or not it's the right choice to make, I never took the idea too seriously. Then I became more familiar with Buddhism.

    One of the fundamental principles of Buddhism is abstaining from taking life. Period. You just don't do it. So after taking a personal vow to take no life, (bug, pest, or otherwise) I eventually had to confront my ideas on eating meat. I almost immediately decided that my eating of meat did not constitute as taking a life. Which is fine, Buddhism really has no strict laws or moral codes. I can still be Buddhist and eat meat. But my inner conflict still continued. I don't want animals to suffer while being raised to be slaughtered and I certainly don't want them killed in excessively painful, prolonged ways, but there is another side to taking the path of a vegetarian that is not commonly discussed: is refraining from eating meat really enough?

    The test was really put to me when I learned why the Buddha condemned eating meat. In the eyes of the Buddha eating meat meant that you were valuing your life above that of animals, and taking their life to sustain yours showed attachment to the self, attachment being the source of suffering in Buddhist teaching. This is clear enough, but I look at this concept and try to see the intent behind it. As I see it, the Buddha was preaching against attachment when he said this. So the attachment is the real culprit while the meat eating is merely the source. But if this is true than isn't eating of any kind really just an attachment to your want of living? If we are not suppose to value one form of life over another then where does a plant fit in? These are the questions that filled my mind.

    On less existential ground, there are still a lot of questions that need to be answered before making the choice to be a vegetarian or vegan. Sure being a vegetarian is making a personal choice not to be responsible for the taking of animal life, but that certainly doesn't stop it from happening. It's like saying "I'm abstaining from rape, so rape's not my problem", the solution cannot be found by just avoiding the eating of meat. Now we are confronted with whether or not we are going to push our ideas on other people. Like it or not, the only way to truly stop something is to change it. This means changing an entire industry that's been around longer than our country. I know too well that if I decide to stop eating meat, the meat industry could care less. They'll survive. So instead of fighting them, I would do better to increase the awareness of others. But this requires aligning the values others might have with your own, which is no easy task. But to start this process, you would have to ask yourself, "what are my values"?

    Obviously you value the life of animals. Obviously you value animals rights. But do you value the life of all animals? Why just these animals that we use for food and not other animals? Almost every vegetarian I know wouldn't think twice about killing a fly, or an ant, or a spider. And there is of course the big question that all vegetarians face: "animals kill each other to eat, so why shouldn't we"? To which most vegetarians would respond: "because we're above nature, we have the ability to make a choice so we should". In a nutshell, "because we're smarter than them". And here is another gaping hole in the vegetarian train of thought. Most vegetarians seem to think we are above nature, outside of it. This is quite an elitist view for such compassionate thinkers. Humans are most definitely a part of nature. We are made up of the same compounds as things in nature, we have similar habits and lifestyles to things in nature, and we respond to the same threats as the rest of nature, particularly, the will to live. And finally we reach the source of vegetarian and vegan thought.

    Despite the fact that if we all stopped killing animals to eat them at the same time, the immense over breeding of these species would throw off the balance in nature and an army of pigs, cows, and chickens would likely storm the world for their next meal, there is an even more terrifying fear at the core of most modern vegetarians and vegans, in my opinion. The fear of the primal self. The fear that even with all our amazing accomplishments, all our stunning prowess, all our incredible strides in science and art, deep down we are really no different than a pig. No different than a cow, or a chicken. We fight for what's ours, we avoid our predators (illness), we screw to procreate, we wallow in cages of our own design, and that scares us. We want so badly to be above the rest of nature. We want to be better and different and not at all primitive and base. So we try to stop the killing of animals, because we don't want to see the murderer that's in us all. We want to be better than that. Above it.

    The funny thing to me is that most vegetarians, if given the choice of kill that animal and eat it or die, would undoubtedly choose a serving of bacon, or steak. I sit here and eat my deli meat and McDonald's hamburger, but you put the knife in my hand and ask me to kill that cow... I'd learn to love to eat dirt real quick. What's the best option? To eat meat or don't? I only wish I knew.

Rebel, Rebel

2009-08-24T09:43:00.001-07:00

Always rebel. The further you get from something, the wider the perspective. That way you can come back to it at your own pace. Be as familiar with it as you want to be. Choose how it will influence you, and if you don't like it, you already know how to get away. Those who don't rebel are consumed by everything. They live in the shadow of fear and are afraid of the things that aren't really there. I rebelled in my youth not as an act of defiance, but to gain a wider perspective. Then I came back to those who would oppose me, to a place where I was comfortable. If I hadn't, I would have traded one influence for another, and replaced my supposed superiors for others. Always rebel.

books

2009-06-20T23:41:00.000-07:00

Here are the books I've read this month, I recommend them all:

1.) The Heart Sutra (Red Pine translation)
2.) The Book: On the Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are (Alan Watts)
3.) The Dhammapada (translation by Gil Fronsdal)
4.) The Diamond Sutra (Translation by A.F. Price and Wong Mou-lam)
5.) and almost done with Money, Sex, War, Karma: Notes for a Buddhist Revolution (David R. Loy)

hmmm... notice a theme? If you are interested at all in eastern philosophy, Buddhism, or alternative ways of thinking then these are a great place to start!

If you are new to the ideas of Buddhism, that last book is written with a Westerner upbringing in mind so it eases into things.

where is my mind?

2009-05-29T11:28:00.000-07:00

The subject of this article hinges upon the separation of the terms "brain" and "mind". The brain, while quite complex, is not the focus of this adventurous excursion, for even though it houses most of our perception it cannot be said that the "self" rests wholly in the brain. Thus, we are comparing the idea of a "self" to the term "mind". The "mind" is the part of you that makes you who you are; the inexplicable sense of "me" versus "everything else" that cannot be located by pointing to a diagram of a brain. This is the area in which your true self resides. Which brings us promptly to the point: where is the "you" in you?

Endowed with five senses, and the five ways we receive these senses, the typical being will define the limits of themselves as compared to his or her surroundings based on what we can see, smell, taste, touch, and hear. Using these senses, and what information the brain receives from these senses, helps us better understand our position in the universe. Thus, typically, a general statement can be made that because of our senses, we define who we are. But where in our senses is the "self"? The ancient Egyptians believed that the ears served the functions we now know the brain to serve. But we know that just because we hear, doesn't mean the "self" is in our ears. Nor because we see is our "self" in the eyes, nor mouth, and so on. So what does this say of our sensory organs and the brain, or "hub", which merely receives, perceives, and conceives the data fed to it by the senses? It is believed, by many, that all of these are completely void of a "self".

One accepted theory is that the data we receive from our senses and categorize with our brain isn't actually helping to define who we are, instead it actually works against us, creating a false illusion of a self amidst the torrent of things that are in the universe. It makes perfect sense, day in and day out we perform countless tasks that could be viewed as desperate attempts to confirm our "individual identity" to ourselves and to others. We talk endlessly wanting our "voice" to be heard. We crave the attention and company of others so we may feel safe in a system of "like" and "unalike", the categorizing of others as compared to you seems a vague attempt to confirm that we are unique to a certain point, but not unique enough to be the only one. Take the very act of "blogging" and such social networks as Myspace, Twitter, and Facebook. Here is the electronic means in which we can constantly remind others that we exist and we are important. (The conundrum of this very blog itself acting as one such confirmation can prove to be a real headache)

So if our "mind" or "self" is not in our brain and not in our senses, then where is it? A strange and elusive truth might be that because our body, with it's "ideas", "senses" and "feelings" is altogether void of a locatable "self" (just as the objects, people, spaces, and places around us do not house a "self"), then perhaps our self is something greater, or smaller, than our bodies and the world they inhabit. Perhaps the self that I call "me" is the same as the self you call "you" sense we, like our surroundings, are all made up of this same emptiness, or lack of self.

Calling it a mind, a self, a soul, or God, is concurrent with every civilization in history. It seems a universally accepted idea that there is something inside us that makes us different and that science cannot account for. The beautiful thing is that the universal emptiness of which I previously spoke is what makes us all different. For we only know who or what we are in relation to someone, or something else. So we name it, we believe it, we live it, and try really hard to forget that we are all the same, that we, like everything in creation, are all one.

on being and not being...

2009-04-26T15:28:00.000-07:00

A child once asked me if I was afraid to die, to which I responded, "Yes, I sometimes am." The truth is the awareness of my own mortality has been something of a cold obsession of mine since a very early age. These feelings are noted in my song Seven, in which I recall my initial realization that I, eventually, would die. I was seven years old.

Later in life the obsession became so desperate, I was completely debilitated by it at times. The ticking of a clock, or the sound of my own heartbeat was too much to bear and would drive me mad in the night. I would wake in a cold sweat, heart pounding through my chest, completely gripped with fear.

It took years of searching, and a lot of looking around inside myself to be able to conquer this fear, this mortal dread. It wasn't any one thing that helped, but eventually I began to see death in another light. Now if a child were to ask me my views on death I would know what to say...

To the east of me there is a large mountain, the largest I've seen in a great while. The mountain is monstrous and covered in snow. I can see this mountain from most anywhere I go, its size is so great. But for all the majesty this mountain holds, in all its awesomeness, the mountain can really only do two things: the mountain can exist, or not exist. One might say the mountain can have an avalanche, but that would be like defining our bodies by the shedding of our skin cells. No, the mountain, at its core, can only be or not be. But how do I know this mountain really exists at all? I have never been there, never touched it with my own hands. I simply accept that it is there because I can see it. I account for, in life, the things that I can see. But I can't always see the mountain, can I? At nighttime the mountain is gone, for all I know it ceases to exist, for I can only account for what I can see. Logic tells me that of course the mountain is still there, it is just too dark to see it. But this is rationalizing the subject because of the need, in our Western culture, to have reason and logic trump all. But I cannot really know, for sure, that the mountain is still there, so I have to believe it. I have to believe in the logic that is taught to me.

The mountain in this story, of course, represents a being. The being's life is spent in the span of daylight, but simply because the being does not appear to exist after the light has gone from it, does not mean the being ceases to exist at all. Whatever the being is at nighttime (or after death) is no less "there" than what we see in the daytime (life). A simple analogy, but one that helps my ever-rational mind to understand my existence better; helps me to no longer suffer at the unanswerable questions of what lies beyond.

Another great way to look at the analogy of life is in a raincloud. In a raincloud all the water is together, merged, in a different form. When the time has come, the water turns to rain and falls down its path in the form of individual droplets. The drops fall down to earth where they splash onto the ground, ceasing to be a drop, but merging again with other drops to become a puddle. There they wait until they are evaporated and again join the raincloud in the form they were before they became rain.

Here the raindrops are the beings. At first we are something else, we are all the same thing (the raincloud), then we are born (raindrops), we live our lives (the fall to earth), and we reach the end (splashing to the ground), our bodies decompose into the earth (become puddles), and then we rejoin the whole (evaporate).

These are but simple comparisons, which cannot be viewed as flawless from every facet, for life is not simple, but very complex indeed. I do feel, however, that comparisons like the ones I have made are necessary in a world where you can either "believe" or "know" but little else. The age old battle of religion versus science is a tiresome game which does little more than confuse those who do not cling to one or the other with all their might. We have a hard time, in this country, understanding our nature through the scope that our Western way of thinking presents. I invite all who read this to develop their own comparisons of life as can be found anywhere around us. For we are all made from the same material, we all function in the same way, only on different scales.

leaving God in the club

2009-04-15T17:26:00.000-07:00

God came down to hang out with me the other night. Took the form of a girl too. Not exceptionally pretty, but lovely in her own rights. I was bummed cause I didn't get to audition for a part that really would have made my career. When God showed up I didn't know what to think. But she told me that she was going to hang with me and my friends all night and then decide if she should re-work the time line and give me the part. I was excited; who wouldn't be? Me and Justin knew it was God, (which makes sense, since Justin and I were quite the theologists when we were younger) but T.J. didn't know and we weren't about to tell.

We went out, had some laughs, God was a lot of fun. The night was nearing an end when T.J. argued with God that he had more money than her. On and on he went boasting about how rich he was, God goading him on all the while. Justin and I were curious to see where this was going and held our breaths in anticipation. Finally, T.J. had reached his limit and decided to use an ATM to prove to God how rich he was.

Over to the ATM our group went, T.J. with his bank card in hand. We huddled around the tiny monitor to see the results. In went T.J.'s card, up came his balance, and down came his ego, for his worth was less than two-hundred bucks. T.J. was sore and couldn't figure out where he had spent his money; he was really quite ashamed. It wasn't clear if T.J. had just been boasting or if God had pulled some nasty trick. But God followed through and started the process of checking her balance. Justin and I were eager to see where this was going and the excitement was almost unbearable.

But something else happened. God entered her PIN code (555 I believe was what it was, although I think my brain was mistaken and it was supposed to be 777 since that makes more sense) but instead of checking her balance she began to use the keypad to type a message.

At first the message looked like garbled gibberish, but suddenly I could read words, amidst the nonsense, that I knew only I could see. The message revealed God's decision: she was not going to give me the part. I was hurt, shocked, let down, and angry. Justin and T.J. appeared not to notice or care.

I was ready to leave, but was so angry, I couldn't help but give God a piece of my mind. I got right in her face and started to say something like "listen here woman..." when I noticed the fire in her eyes and remembered who I was talking too. Bashfully, I continued to tell her what bull-shit this all is and that no matter how hard I try, how much I give, or how much I suffer, I can never achieve the things I want in life because someone else is pulling the strings. I remember feeling so angry that she just stood there and smiled. What was she thinking? What was the point of the whole ordeal if she just wound up showing me that there is no free will, only fate? And if your fate wasn't what you wanted, well too bad.

She tried to explain that the part wouldn't have made me happy, that I wouldn't make much money, and it wouldn't really take me where I wanted to go. I told her I wished she'd let me decide that and walked away, leaving God in the club, or casino, or wherever we were.

Out in the parking lot we were all feeling sore. T.J. was still in a daze about his money and wandered off to his car, grumbling to himself all the while. Justin and I went to load something into his car, and I thought it was strange that he made no comment on the events of the night. Instead he was more concerned with whether or not he was getting fat.

And that was it. The rest was just a dream waiting to end.

my broken soul...

2009-03-28T21:05:00.000-07:00

So apparently I have a broken soul, according to Jared. The test is simple: if you like cold pizza anywhere as near as much as you like it warm... your soul is broken. Don't ask why, just accept it. I have.

"economy" is a term reserved for the wealthy

2009-03-17T13:59:00.000-07:00

In recessive times such as these, it is easy to compare our current economic position to those of more prosperous years and fear that we are helpless to save ourselves from some financial disaster that waits around the corner. I myself have felt the pinch of this wounded economy and even marveled at what a change I've noticed in the short years I have been a member of it. That said, I cannot stress strongly enough the importance of keeping our views in a tightly focused perspective, especially in these dismal times.

America, although currently strained, still continues to lead the way in the ranks of the most wealthy nations in the world, backed by Japan, China, and Germany. And for all our recent troubles we still are very much a first world nation, in fact we are the first of them. And between us and the rest of the worlds most "developed" nations we make up a measly 20% of the worlds population. That number is pretty low and it is downright tragic that between that tiny 20%, we consume 86% of the worlds goods. That means that all the overlooked little luxuries that we continue to enjoy in one of our nation's "hardest" times are most likely a monumentally unaffordable luxury that the other 80% of the world could scarcely dream of much less enjoy. Poverty is killing the majority of the world's population and we in this country have the audacity to complain that our favorite Starbucks around the corner has been shut down. These are facts:
1. Over half the world's population (3 billion people) lives on less than $2 a day.
2. 11 million children under 5 years of age die every year due to poverty. That's 1 child every 3 seconds.
3. 1.1 billion people in developing countries have inadequate access to water.

These are just a few of the staggering facts that we have, of course, heard time and time again in this country yet continue to justify our spending on cosmetics, tobacco, alcohol, and entertainment. Yes, it is becoming increasingly difficult to find a job. Yes, the housing market is in the crapper and people are being forced from their homes. And yes, our government is forced to bail us out of these hard times by backing the wealthy banks, saving the automobile industry, and stuffing our pockets with extra cash to be used on consumer goods. But when you compare our troubles to a lack of clean drinking water, not having enough resources to feed our children, and parents dying of AIDS leaving their orphaned children behind to suffer a similar if not worse fate of starvation, we are all understandably humbled.

It is not reasonable to think that by reading this people will stop everything and reach out to the poor people of these impoverished countries; I do not expect a massive change in the distribution of goods and wealth on account of one passionate blogger. I do feel, however, it is not too much to ask people to pause, even for a moment, and reflect on what a marvelous lifestyle every man women and child in this nation continues to enjoy on a daily basis. Even our homeless community has access to the basic necessities that should be available to every man. Perhaps one will read this and think to him or herself that although there has been complaint about the things we don't have right now, I'm damn glad that I live in a nation that, at the very least, continues to provide me with the sustenance and programs that keep me from knowing the true horrors of a life in dire poverty. Please enjoy your life in this nation to its fullest, it is the least you can do for someone else who will never get the chance to walk down the paved street, grab a bite to eat with friends, go out for a drink, and come home to a warm bed.

And if you can, give a little. Find ways to do it. Trust me, there are plenty.

can you dig?

2009-03-07T00:33:00.000-08:00

The anniversary of the death of one of my great heroes prompted me to write a lengthy, two-part article chronicling both his life and my interest in his work. Check out our Mongrel Digs page and read my article on beloved Gonzo Journalist, Hunter S. Thompson. Then stop by our Amazon store and pick up some of his books as well as movies and books about him. You'd be surprised what you'll learn.

-QAH

my little flying machine

2009-02-22T14:52:00.000-08:00

I'm over the halfway point in Chuck's new book Snuff, cruising along at about 30,000 feet on a Boeing that's bound for fabulous Las Vegas on my way back home, when I happen to glance out my window and catch a glimpse of a beauty that struck me to the core.

Out my window it was nearing sunset. The sky was that pallet-blend of orange and purple with tints of blue and yellow at every corner. Below me was an alien landscape, a plain of white fields that was too serene to be inhabited by men. The ground was made of this coiled mass of gray and white that resembled brain matter or perhaps the intestine. At some points it simply looked like cotton a second-grader would pull and spread over the bottom of a shoe-box-diorama. In between the cracks and folds there was nothing but the darkest colors the eye can see. Every once in a while a burst of goldish-orange would erupt from the depths, a twinkle of light glowing far below. Probably some cruise ship.

It was in this moment, as I was taking all this in with a heavy sigh, that I marveled at what a stunning opportunity it was for me to be granted this vision.

The first commercial flights took place around the end of the 1920's. At first it was a thrill only the rich could afford, but advancing technology made it a common way to travel for patrons throughout the 30's. Eighty years. We've been privileged enough to grace the skies for a measly eighty years of human history. And that's what struck me so deep. A hundred years ago no one would have even dared to conceive what the world looks like traveling above the clouds in the stratosphere. Although thousands of people cruise around up there everyday now, at one point in history the thought of a human flying was considered blasphemous.

The reason it hit such a chord with me was simple. I take so much of our civilization for granted. It's easy to point out our flaws, to belittle our accomplishments for all the harm we've caused. Any one can look back on what we've achieved and ask ourselves "but what did it cost?" and the answer is never pretty. But flying over mass distances in a manner of hours while watching the sun set into the distant sea from the safety of my little flying machine is just too cool a thing to take lightly.

The Factory

2009-02-04T18:50:00.000-08:00

Here's what I'm currently working on:

*Recording various pieces to be used in projects for Mongrel Studios (including our new web series which will be debuting soon)

*Still in early stages on putting together a "cover" album to be recorded under the Mongrel Studios name and released for free. (Covers that I'm thinking about recording include tracks from The Zombies, The Postal Service, and Regina Spektor)

*Searching for a topic for my next "Mongrel Digs" entry. (Any suggestions?)

*Rehearsing and arranging additional musicians to join me for live shows. (We've practiced!)

*Acting in another Mongrel short. (The details of which are so mysterious even I don't know all of them!)

*Getting back into the swing of booking shows. (I took some time off and now I have to whore myself again.)

*Struggling to keep my immortal soul from falling into the hands of evil. (It's a living.)

So don't come at me with this "You never do anything with your life" bullshit, I do plenty and it takes a constant stream of weird craziness to not lose my sense of self in this onslaught of "Things-to-be" madness.

OK,
QA

2009-02-02T03:39:00.000-08:00

A drop of water drips from the back of my faucet; a clear insect darting on the surface of everything. My nose drips. The world commands and my body responds. I envy those who are sane enough to not call themselves artists. Creating is the worst thing you can do with your life. To create is to assume that what you've given life to will learn to stand on it's own in the eyes of others. But nothing I create will ever mean as much as what I put into it.

f'ed

2009-02-01T23:14:00.000-08:00

life is fucked. love is fucked. the american dream is fucked.

-Q

Inertia

2009-01-29T18:59:00.000-08:00

Here are some scratches on a piece of paper I found that I wrote in the dark days:

"Sleepless nights and unaccomplished days. Is inertia enough? How long can we keep this up? Something slumbers in the desert, it shifts dunes of sand in it's sleep. I dream and I create but the lives I weave are transparent, they've yet to flesh themselves into existence. Each place I call home is more taxed then the last. At this rate I'll be paying for every breath in a matter of months. It's dark in my corner. Too dark to remember what I've learned. I unlearn each day. Empty then fill. There's a cloud over this place, invisible to the naked eye. The cloud houses something awful, something with long tentacle-like arms with oppressive strength. The tentacles shoot out from the sky and press on your chest, just atop the sternum. The pressing hold that pins you in your place. And keeps you there. Don't struggle, accept mediocrity and the inevitable routine of a short, droll existence. What a strange time to be a part of. No one seems to care enough to better the times, the lives, the world."

I don't remember what was going on when I wrote this but I can still feel the remnants of that force. It is very clear here that I am talking about the world of my immediate surroundings. These feelings are what spurred my decision to leave California and I know now that I made the right choice. "I once was lost but now I'm found."

music you've never heard

2009-01-28T18:05:00.000-08:00

I have an album. I recorded it a while back. It was released almost a year ago. It has not generated the desired amount of attention. You want to play hard ball? Fine.

I'll drop the price of the album for just one day.

Febuary 1st 2009 will be the special day when you can get the album for .69 a track or 6.99 for the whole album.

What's your excuse?

Just click the link on the side of this page or access my music page on this site through the "Music" tab.

Done.

-Quinn Allan

Breeding Degeneracy

2009-01-27T18:44:00.000-08:00

    There's a language to television that most all of us speak. It is taught at the earliest of ages now, even before we learn to talk. A one-year-old may not be able to tell you his name, but he can certainly follow the plot to The Office. It's a strange and peculiar language that has no lexicon or grammar. It's a language based on instincts, sub-conscious behavior, and a super-evolved form of hypnosis-like telepathy. The evidence of this proposed language exists in the curious cases of those who do not know how to speak it. After years now without a steady flow of visual mind-numbing media I myself have become one of the few.

    I was a TV watcher from the get go. Hell, I was practically raised by Eureka's Castle and Mr. Rogers. I watched my fair share of cartoons and sitcoms up into my early adult years, but eventually found little that held my interest or seemed geared toward a man of my tastes. Soon a lack of proper funds led to the absence of television, not by choice, but because food was more important. I would catch an occasional show here and there, suffering through America's Next Top Model for another's sake or tuning into the few Adult Swim cartoons that are among the rare shows that actually speak any sense to me. But it came to be that the natural flow of the television super-highway became invisible to me altogether.

    Having been without it now for some great while, I will occasionally sit down in some place other than my home and flick on the bright flashing lights of that cursed invention. I now find it utterly disturbing, a vile place filled with nothing but absolute horror. It speaks in tongues and spells no message other than one of inherent doom. Channel 1... doom. Channel 2... doom. Channel 3... the doom spin-off. And Channel 4 is showing made-for-TV doom. It makes no sense! None of it. Especially advertisements. The modern ad companies rely heavily on a constant lack of intelligence and attention. They are expecting you to be zoned out and only paying attention on some distant level. They only need to plant the seed, the method doesn't have to add up. Anyone who can stand far enough away from the ads can see that they rarely make any sense at all. The people watching them around you seem to get it but you will turn from viewer to screen over and over wondering if there's something you're missing. They could be in Japanese and I would understand just as much.

    What happened? It didn't take that long. I've spent the majority of my life intoxicated by a constant stream of useless plots, slogans, jingles, and facts only to lose the ability to translate this information into a workable form in less than three years.

    Take Rachel Ray for example. God what a brainless twit! I watched the tail end of her "show" today, which is as much hers as the sun is mine. What I saw was a sad, middle-aged woman cooking ridiculous food for an invisible audience. Notice that they never show the audience, you just hear them clap. What's more sad: a woman reacting to a phantom audience or the actual thought of people traveling out to watch that she-beast murder the food in front of her? She's a horrible little puppet there to sell Ritz Crackers and ad-space. Chances are she's as oblivious to her horrible fate as most of us poor saps are.

    We take so much of the idea of television for granted. The damn thing was only invented 70 years ago. It's only now that we have children more developed and experienced through television than actual life experience. We are completely unaware of the consequences that came with a device invented by our great-grandfathers. There's no doubt that we can see a detachment with reality developing in much of today's youth. Of course these kids don't know the weight of their actions! When some one on TV screws up it's funny. There's no serious recourse for Sponge Bob, we know it will all work out in the end. Taking a life? Hell, it happens all the time on TV and they get off scott-free!

    I challenge everyone who reads this to go without watching TV for at least six months. Once you've passed that mark turn it back on and you will see the horror that I see. The colors will bleed out from the screen and breed degeneracy all over your eyes while the screeches of some monstrous harpy-like she-devil will be felt in the depths of your loins. Don't believe me? Just try it. Turn off, tune out, drop it. If you can.

...makes the heart go wander

2009-01-25T21:17:00.000-08:00

Such vicious little beasts we are. What a vile breed mankind truly is. What other way could it possibly be though? We are pocked with ugliness to give us that special flavor. Take substance for example. Not the material concept of substance, like something of weight, but rather the intoxicating mix of chemicals and compounds that fuel our wildest dreams and haunt our gloomiest nights. I try to resist the primal urges to dowse myself in any and all mind
altering/inhibiting/expanding/connecting/blowing substances but I find the alternative so boring. Why is life so typically droll? Whose idea was it to make all the harmful elements the most fun to enjoy?

Alcohol is the devil with the nicest labels and advertising you've ever seen. How many times have we told ourselves that we're done, we've had enough, time to put the cork on it for good? But it's never for good is it. It never is for me. I believe that we've spent so much of our early life trying to fit in to this little mold thats been cut out for us. The mold is a tight fit and we have to stuff all our being into it to make the people who monitor us happy. After twenty-odd years of that we will find any excuse to force an uncontrollable craziness upon ourselves. That's the beauty of substance. We get to experience insanity and guess what? It only lasts 1-17 hours depending on what you take. What a beautiful thing. Some of the most colorful moments of my life have been fueled by an absolute disregard for sanity. Usually backed up by a strong soaking of liquor or a pleasant sampling of drugs. That's the beauty and the horror of it. It sure is a fun ride...but it's one of the hardest rides to get off. To stay away from. No matter how bad it gets, how scary, it never outweighs the good times, the crazy trips, the hysterical laughter. Am I right?

Such vicious little beasts we are. What a vile breed mankind truly is.

It's in the title

2009-01-24T18:08:00.000-08:00

It's about time I set a few things straight, really get down and dirty and told you what this blog is all about. I have no interest in what celebrities are doing. This is not a blog about my private life. This is a blog commentating on the sick and wondrous possibilities and lives of the people around me both directly and indirectly. This is pure Horatio Alger. Gonzo-blogging, if you will. This is where the freaks will come to see where they fall in line. This is a blog about the edge. It will be sick, twisted, off-put, awkward, and amazing. All at once. This is the beginning of the end. The ugly little page where I pour out the inky smut that spews out of the nether-most regions of my brain. Enjoy.

-Q

The New Regime

2009-01-23T02:46:00.000-08:00

It is now 1:00 AM, one day deep into the new regime. The 44th President of the United States was sworn into office early yesterday and I don’t feel any different. He was elected on the hope ticket, which is all anyone cares about now. If there is no hope, there is no country. We simply cannot survive without some glimmer of hope. And what better embodiment for that hope than a black President? Hope for change like the kind we’ve seen in the Civil Rights movement over the past forty years. He’s black! He’s white! He could be a goddamn Rottweiler for all I care, just so long as he breathes the much-needed life back into this country. America the Mighty has run on nothing but fumes for nigh ten years now, and that’s not even dipping into the fuel problems. The spirit of the people is divided and practically crushed to dust. Those old enough to remember “the good days” are too senile now to do anything to help. Most of us, the ones who matter anyway, see nothing but a dim fog up ahead. And those who look past the fog are no more at ease.

It’s not that I don’t feel we can persevere, we’ve got a good history for that. It’s more of a feeling that the countdown has begun and no one can see the clock. Like Rome before us we are at the verge of ripping ourselves apart, all our enemies will have to do is pick up what’s left, like grave-robbers pillaging the corpse of our once-great nation.

But that’s not what yesterday was about. Yesterday thousands upon thousands of American citizens, from all walks of life, gathered in the nation’s capitol to be a part of history. It wasn’t the color of his skin that drew people in, it was the magnitude of the idea his skin represents. In only a handful of generations, the black community has gone from winning their freedom, to seeing one of their own take the seat as one of the most powerful men in the world. Yesterday a one-hundred year old African American was there when President Obama was sworn in. In his lifetime, he has seen the change that comes with perseverance, and he turns his thanks to God for letting him live to see this moment. That is a power you cannot buy. That is a hope you can’t help but be a part of. The old way of thinking is becoming the new. The unmistakable idea of possibilities this country is supposed to represent seems to be on the mend. This is why black, white, yellow, and red alike gathered yesterday. This is the hope that we are so desperate for.

President Obama certainly has his work cut out for him. I feel correct in saying the very fate of our country is now resting in his hands. His actions will either inspire us to become the great nation we once were, or doom us to the realization that there is no hope, that we’ve already lost. I, like many of my generation, lacked the proper motivation to get off my ass and vote this year, a mistake I will not make again. If I did vote, would I have voted for Obama? In all honesty, I cannot say, but I’m part of “the people” and the people spoke for me…and I’m glad. I’m happy that everyone got what they wanted and I’m moved by the same power that has touched us all.
I leave the official running of business in our country in the hands of the 44th President, Barak Obama. And I myself will make an impact, in my lifetime, and do my very best to secure the blessings of liberty to myself and my posterity. Do ordain and establish this proclamation for The United States of America.

Quinn Allan
Wednesday January 21st, 2009