snapshot of a day in the life:

we don’t have a tv in our living room,
just baby chickens in an aquarium tank
in our kitchen, which is the common space.

daily activities include:
building things, like a yurt, a garden, a chicken coop.
communal living drama.
sharing stories of everyday trials & tribulations over food gathered via dumpster-diving, food stamps, the garden.
the latest events unfolding in the cultural/scientific/economic (r)evolution we’re each individually spearheading, in our own unique ways.
spirited brainstorms of brilliant ideas,
or vulnerable confessions of tiredness, disorientation, and/or frustration.

amerika, 2012, i see you,
and raise you one hand –
– my own.
it’s not enough that you vote for obama, or that you contribute tax dollars to the empire,
but that you act in the very vision of the world you imagine
as utopic.

i am utopic, and envision
a world in which food forests decorate every rooftop,
all information is derived from trusted sources entrusting their peers with providing their knowledge to the whole,
and so much is
forsaken yet still forgiven,
in the wake of a new world.

this is the plumbing of the depths.
the stirring of the soul
that, wrenching, screams
for forgiveness.

we came here sodden…

we left unforgotten.

What I have been up to recently…

Yes, I became one of those Blogs Without Updates, a potentially potent memetic force seemingly caught in the tethers of stagnation. However, I have very good reason for this.

I have cast my net to the midst, brought my wiles to the wild world of free and open source collaboration in all things from learning (more properly termed ‘co-teaching’- see Noisebridge), to living (communally – yurt the world!!), to working (federating aligned communities/organizations of practice).

In the past year, I was introduced to a fabulous crew with whom I resonated so strongly that I made the decision to take a first Leave of Absence from my Ph.D program down at UC San Diego. Together, we worked on many projects:

  • A live/work space we called Adeline Live/Labs – Live spaces upstairs, and labs downstairs for collaborative activities ranging from hacking the web to making things to growing food, cooking and sewing. While this fell through initially due to unforeseen budget restraints, we continue to seek a space befitting of a bevy of excellent hacktivists and DIYers.
  • An open source project we coined ‘The Pyre‘- in essennce, USB pendants that would serve as keys for bootrapping civilization, replete with a core, secure Linux OS; free and open source software for everything ranging from project management to audio-visual documentation; and instructables for DIY natural building, permaculture design and 3D printing. Check out our nascent wiki here, and contribute if you feel so inclined!

With the Fall came the onset of the Occupy Wall Street movement. Over the summer, I had started up a small web development business with a friend, and felt pulled to engage with and contribute directly to the movement. I found myself pulled onto the Occupy San Francisco web crew, with whom I built this site. Since November, I have been focused on the following projects:

  • Starting an East Bay hackerspace, SudoRoom devoted to citizen science and local community-based projects.
  • Ongoing volunteer work with the OccupySF web crew and the Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Studies.
  • More to my personal research agenda, federating alliances between hackerspaces, Occupy, co-working spaces, nomad/volunteer networks, neotribal subcultures and intentional communities.
  • Levelling up with an experienced meta-systems architect to design a tech platform for facilitating the collaborative nature of save-the-world projects through software designed to propogate tasks throughout tribes and then associated networks, built on biomimetic principles and encouraging alliances between values-aligned organizations and communities of practice.

For the past three months, I have been finishing up at UC San Diego – leaving the Ph.D program with a second masters and moving back up to the Bay Area to re-engage with these networks and continue my action-oriented ethnographic research under conditions more befitting of the emerging and future network economy.

I welcome anyone and everyone to become friends, beacons, lamplights in the darkness, as we together make our way toward the sunrise. The beginning is near.

beat. chirp. pound. chase.
guided by mud and moon we dance
the heart’s song, the web of man,
yet cut still closer to the bone:
love, death, the beast of being,
the cruel joke, the wrenching twist-
it might remake a god in man.

under canopies of rainlight haze,
how and why we number our days,
may we for a moment stomp our seeing
limbs and howl out the agony.
“we can never be born enough”
birth me then, now, here,
projected like a tummy creature, green and gooey~

(the frequencies we found were too fierce;
fearfully we turned away-

no.

i sing the heart verbatim:
beat. chirp. pulse. chase.
stripped raw to nerves more and footsore,
fondle forever the fuzzy croptop of communitas,
collision, clusterfucktranscendance,dance,fools!
together knit we find the fibers beyond fingertips,eyes,seeing limbs-

it rose like a spaceship toward the sun.

something different, something new

something that once i knew,
stealthy headlong hurtling,frolicking froth
a tempest is two and not one,
a one is everything, nigh flew from sun
insatiable shadow, insatiable shadow,
and ever after tremulous.

paint the unsettled scenery.

nobody move!
i didn’t dare take a breath.
were we ready for a war?
hardly.
foolish children, fumbling forth,
into a hellish world we cannot call home.
we can never call home.

sometimes i want to peel my whiteness off
and reveal the weary rust within.

they stole my notebook.
that made me cry.
so i suppose
it’s the screen ’til another notebook finds its way
(home)

thoughts of home make me cry, too.
hardly home-cooked meals and wholesome family fun,
but far from the beaten existence of a violent culture.

it grows dark, i grow weak.
i shall nestle in my hermitude,
i shall not speak.

elsewhere, egos soar and inflate,
i refuse to play all human games and sit.
and run.
and contemplate:

i
hate
ny.

but i love you i love you i love you!
and we are alive, somehow!

(at least the dogs smile,
fuzzy like furry like funk
crunch crunk)

a patter on the pitterpane, i’m parched!
[a shot fires, babies cry, the train goes by]
(no lie)

coos of a cantankerous mistress of mischief

i c generic genre
whither art thee,
with or without me?
wither
out
the
age.
this is the stage
upon which the sage
will assuage all our rage?
i call it a cage.

the nose knows
it is burning!
hands that handle jalepenos
should not rub noses.

here in between puffs

salvation from this salvaged self-
i did alright, you did enough,
disembodied gestures yet garner pulchritude.
tis i who refuse the sooth
-sayer, i flay her!
dice her finely and saute her.
oh, so it goes,
add in a handful of toes.

the rage is all the rage the machine

sing: i will swallow your sadness and eat your cold clay
just to lift your long face
-joanna newsom

buoyant abeyance of disbelief,
blend me beautiful!
a ferocity to be fortified
in the quietude of the lonely night,
all trembling and fear are less now than sweet solace.

oh, call it off!
call it caw-cacophony!
it shall be ended.
stripped, strung and suspended,
marrow from the bone.
sucked out like poison from the wound,
emergence from the wilting womb.

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the pure absurdity of this dissatisfaction-
nothing left, save distraction?
yet abhorrence of subtraction!
(i want
it all.)