"Shhh...They're Listening!"

Premonition or Bad Dream ?

2011-06-23T06:27:00.000-07:00

I was riding with my wife in the back seat of our friend’s sedan. I have no idea who these friends were; just a man and woman. It was dark outside; clear skies and summery; and I starred comfortably as Chicago’s South Side skittered past our windows.

Kaboom…I instinctively threw my head into my lap and shielded my face with open palms. A brilliant, poker-hot light invaded everything inside and out. And then, after a flicker of reality broke through my reaction, I reached over to my wife’s shoulder and pulled her close to me; under me; and as the car slowed to a stop, we sat up.

I turned around and looked out the rear window. I didn’t see anything…not a thing. Then my memory nudged me a bit. I remembered…I…I remember it. I saw it! I grabbed the back of the drivers chair and pulled myself forward to the edge of my seat. “Drive,” I commanded in a panicked voice.

Still holding onto the back of the driver’s seat, I drifted inward; into memory; and I saw the explosion in the sky; something came into our atmosphere $%#$%^@#%&^^%

[I woke up]

[After drifting back to sleep…]

My wife and I were riding in the back seat of a sedan driven by characters from the television sitcom Scrubs: Doctor Perry Cox and his wife Jordan. We were traveling along a country road when I remembered the explosion in the sky that I endured recently (not realizing I was in a dream state, or that the prior incident occurred in a dream state).

It was broad daylight as I ducked low in the car to see high out of the front windshield and the moon was shining; in broad daylight; on a massive scale; too massive…it was too close. I couldn’t accept what I was seeing. My eyes traversed the highly defined lunar surface that seemed to hover a quarter of its normal distance from the Earth. Then I saw dust fall from the moon.

It looked bitten. The lower half of the moon was missing. The bottom of the moon fell out. As my gaze floated downward I saw an enormous slice of the moon falling towards the Earth; or past it…I wasn’t sure. My heart began to race as I realized that time must have seized and as I pulled out of my displacement, everything around me started to pick-up.

I heard the voices of the other passengers…they saw it too. And then in front of us; out of nowhere; a small sheet of moon dust slammed into the Earth in front of us, and over a hill that skewed our vision. Perry slammed on the brakes and as we screeched to a halt and began reversing, the blast raised a mile high over our heads.

We kept reversing as these tidal waves ripple effect came towards us lifting dirt, brick, stone, and road; higher and higher and higher in front of us. “We’re smaller than them” I screamed at Perry as a pick-up was thrown into the air in front of us. I have no idea what that meant, but we continued in reverse ^%$%^#%^$%^^&%&%^$$*%^$&*^$%

[I woke up]

What? Seriously now...? Why can't I dream about cheeseburger planets, pizza UFO's and bacon aliens? Ugh...

G-d works in mysterious ways...

2011-06-23T06:21:00.000-07:00

Early one evening (January 11th, 2010) I was meeting a friend at Union Station (train station) in downtown Chicago, Illinois. His train arrived at 7:24pm and we were speaking to each other over our mobile phones trying to locate one another.

We couldn’t find each other in the vast expanses of the station and we were both standing at an escalator…he at the top of one, and me at the bottom of one.

I traveled up the escalator, but he wasn’t there; wrong escalator, but a 2-3 year old girl was, and she was screaming. She was stuck in the escalator. No one was able to help her, but I jumped over her and her mother and a man trying to get her out and I found a red button, pushed it and stopped the escalator.

I then went for help. I found my friend not long after that at a different escalator and I thought…G-d wanted me at that escalator to stop it, and I did.

I remember that I felt very confused. I couldn't seem to find my friend. I kept going in circles. I think G-d confused me on purpose so I would go up the wrong escalator and find the girl.

The mother was praying for a button. I found it and pushed it. I feel really awsome that G-d allowed me to do this; to allow me to be the one to help a family in distress.

Divination in today's world...

2011-06-23T06:17:00.000-07:00

While working in a steel mill I discovered a hardline to God. Please allow me to clarify this as I know how unbelievable this may sound without an explanation.

There is a diesel fueling depot in the mill that has three revolving numerical digits on its pump that register the amount of fuel I've used.

Think of it as my magic eight ball; or as I view it...my hardline communications device with God. I ask a question then spin the dial to recieve an answer.

Here's the legend for how it answers my inquiries:
777 = Yes, a positive reply;
666 = No, a negative reply;
000 = No Answer, will not Answer, or undecided at the time of questioning;
999 = 50% chance of yes and a 50% chance of no;

If the three digits are half way between 777 and 888 it means that something is highly probable.

If the three digits are half way between 777 and 666 it means that though possible, there's a slight chance of failure and/or rejection; but not a 50/50 split percentage as a 777 is more probable.

If the three digits are half way between 666 and 555 it is absolutely negative.

What's fascinating is that regardless of my base number (whether it is 000, 159, or 037) the end result of a spin always generates a 999, 777, 666, or a 000.

The skeptic might argue that I am subconsciously generating the numbers sequenced in the legend above with the amount of torque I use to spin the dial.

I would reply that I've already tested this theory and I end up with the digits in the legend above regardless of the amount of torque I apply.

I would also add that there are many times when I don't have a question that I will recieve a different string of numbers; such as but not limited to 111 or 888.

The skeptic might then resort to calling this practice a fluke or a coincidence and then accuse me of entertaining superstitious beliefs that are lacking in scientific proof.

That would be a good point except that according to theological physics (my theory specifically), God has to
obey the laws (physics) of this existance and therefore must communicate without manipulating this
fundamental programing.

So...I communicate with God and God guides me. Sometimes it isn't what I want to hear but what I need to hear and I always except it.

It is my belief, based on evidence that I have witnessed throughout my life that God does indeed speak to us. It's up to us to listen; accept the answer; and control our personal demons (psychologically speaking) from tampering with the answers and/or advises we recieve.

Note: this divination tool stopped working after I posted this article at http://www.secretasylum.com/ and I'm not stating that I lost the metaphysical ability to divinate. I'm saying that the actual tool I used to divinate ceased to function and is currently awaiting repair

Does God Answer Our Prayers?

2011-06-23T06:13:00.000-07:00

There's a man sitting on a bus stop bench in New Yorks Central Park.

He sighs as he watches a happy couple pass him by.

Leaning back; he lifts his head toward the sunlight and chews his lower lip.

A well dressed man sits next to him and fidgets with a brief case.

"Something bothering you? I can always tell when someone needs a listen. It's what I do; I'm a priest."

The lone man waves him off with suttle contempt, and the priest stands up and leaves.

His right hand sneaks into his pant pocket and pulls out a golden coin.

Examining it...one dollar, he clutches it as his demeanor sorrows.

One dollar is all he has left to his name; a single shining coin.

He hunches to a fetal sit with his chin in his palms and his elbows to his knees.

Time burns at his eyelids as the man sits and ponders.

He had lost his whole world; his family, his job, and his home.

He raises his head from his palms and shows watery eyes to the sky.

He whispers "God if you exist, and I've never thought you do...help me now in my time of need and I will believe in you?"

~HONK~

Startled; the man perks up and sees the bus parked in front of him;"Getting in?" asks the driver.

The man waves him off with a nodful reject and reads the busses advertisement banner:

[50 cent one-way rides anywhere NYC]

Oblivious to the world around him and trapped in his depressions snare, he stands from the bench and reads the advertisement on the back rest.

[Find work NOW! NYC sponsored hiring agency. Solving the cities unemployment crisis one job at a time. Call 555-1776]

The man scoffs at how business has taken advantage of everything in order to make a buck.

And he leaves...

Did you see how this man prayed to G-D? Did you see that G-D answered his prayer as swiftly as he had prayed it? Did you then see this mans foolishness as he was so self absorbed that he was blind to this blessing?

SMDH-SC

A warning when dealing in conspiracy theories

2011-06-23T06:07:00.000-07:00

A conspiracy involves two or more people working in agreement with the intent to perpetuate a crime.

A theory is a concept; a fact less answer that is used as the foundation to mount an investigation into a specific subject.

A fact is an undeniable material or conceptual piece of evidence that validates a specific subject.

A conspiracy theory is the belief that two or more people are working together in order to perpetuate a crime.

Look this up anywhere...and it all rings about the same...

This belief initiates an investigation into the theory and if enough factual evidence is collected, the theory is either validated: meaning that a conspiracy exists or if the facts prove the theory defunct the theory is
dismissed all together.

If the investigation fails to produce factual evidence to either validate or to invalidate the theory, the theory remains in place.

'

YouTube video from:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WxQ34XYnLvw

Once a theory is invalidated and dismissed, a new theory may (and often does) replace it.

Once a theory is validated, and the conspiracy is factual it could be prosecuted. A problem arises due to two barriers that have historically thwarted the prosecution of conspiracies that had been deemed theoretical public opinions:

1) Conspiracy Theories that are investigated in the public sector may have been investigated in such a way that violates the law; such as but not limited to the in-admissibility of evidence due to the method in which
the evidence was obtained; and

2) The Conspirators may have used the art of producing disinformation in order to protect a legally restricted and confidential subject and/or the Conspirators may have used the tool of Discreditation; thus annihilating the character of the investigators which could invalidate the factual evidence the investigator(S) collected.

Conspiracy Theories are entertaining and thought provoking. They are often used as plots in film and in literature, but they are hardly ever given public attention in the media due to their destructive nature.

Consider this hypothetical scenario... a jewelry store is burglarized and it's two owners (partners) closed the store permanently and where seen spending large sums of money around town; more so then they ever had
spent before, and they took a trip together overseas.

The investigating agency sees no proof that these former entrepreneurs partook in the crime, but some local townspeople became suspicious and they developed a conspiracy theory stating that the two owners staged
the burglary in order to receive a large insurance claim, and then sold all of the stolen merchandise while on vacation overseas.

They create such a stir in their community that their local newspaper prints their theory due to public pressure.

The same day that the article is run, the two former jewelry store owners find their characters smeared by the slanderous allegations.

The prosecutor’s office petitions the court for a warrant to arrest the two former entrepreneurs based on theoretical evidence (which I hope doesn't happen in today’s society) and they are charged with a crime.

The local papers cover the entire trial and the defendants prove they had prior arrangements to vacation overseas, and their flagrant spending was due to years of frugal spending and saving, and they still had yet to
receive compensation on their insurance claim. Their bank statement history further proved their financial savings was the money they were spending.

They are found to be innocent and set free, but the damage had already been done and even though the conspiracy theory was not proven, a new theory begins to replace it, and this will continue until the real
perpetrators of the crime are brought to justice, and even then...their may still be a conspiracy theory linking the former jewelry store owners to the crime.

In retrospect, conspiracy theories are toxic to everyone involved, but without them, we may never be able to bring Conspirators to justice.

Everything starts with a theory.

-SC

A vision of the future or an over active imagination?

2011-06-23T05:59:00.000-07:00

I was a child living in Wisconsin when I had a dream (?) that has haunted me throughout my life. Did you notice the question mark next to the word dream? I placed it there because I am not sure if it was a dream or a vision or if it was nothing more then the wild imagination of a child.

Before I continue, let's define the words dream and vision. The following definitions have been copied and pasted from the American Heritage Dictionary as listed in Yahoos Education database at the corresponding web addresses:

http://education.yahoo.com/reference/dictionary/entry/dream

Dream
NOUN:
A series of images, ideas, emotions, and sensations occurring involuntarily in the mind during certain stages of sleep.
A daydream; a reverie.
A state of abstraction; a trance.
A wild fancy or hope.
A condition or achievement that is longed for; an aspiration: a dream of owning their own business.
One that is exceptionally gratifying, excellent, or beautiful: Our new car runs like a dream.

http://education.yahoo.com/reference/dictionary/entry/vision

Vision
NOUN:
The faculty of sight; eyesight: poor vision.
Something that is or has been seen.
Unusual competence in discernment or perception; intelligent foresight: a leader of vision.
The manner in which one sees or conceives of something.
A mental image produced by the imagination.
The mystical experience of seeing as if with the eyes the supernatural or a
supernatural being.
A person or thing of extraordinary beauty.

With that said, please allow me to explain the occurance before you make a judgment as to it's designation.

For the record...I've written it off as the outcome of a childs imagination.

~shruggs~

I'm a skeptic by nature, regardless of the fact that I'm aware that I may have extraperephrial capabilities; the concept offends my scientific mind, but stimulates my metaphysical soul.

"It was well past dark and everyone was asleep in our home. I couldn't have been older then ten at the time, and I was laying in bed; staring at the open doorway."

"I may have been waking from a dream, or my father was standing in the threshold of the door while I was open eyed and fast asleep. Maybe I was in a trance like state and I experienced a vision...but being a skeptic I can't see how."

"In what ever state I was in, I saw the siloet of a man, and upon closer inspection...that wasn't a man but a demon with a red glow about it."

"As I tried to focus on the creature it's shape changed to a different demonic form that glowed white. Again I tried to focus and sit up and the shape shifted again."

"This time a third demonic form appeared and it's glow was blue."

"I don't remember what happened next, but this dream has plagued me ever since."

Here's another dream in desperate need of interpretation. At face value one could theorize that the three colors red, white, and blue are the colors of the United States flag.

One could also speculate that the three demons represent a Satanic trinity: The Prince of Darkness: The Anti-Christ; and the Unholy Spirit.

The conspiracy theorist might further propose that this dream alluded to a future America that submits to evil and ushers in a New World Order as a predecessor of Armageddon.

Do you see how dangerous conspiracy theories are? It's so very easy to project fear onto a subject that might be nothing more than a young boys nightmare.

Let's see what the Metaphysical Sciences have to say about the dream as found at: http://www.dreammoods.com/

Demons

To see demons in your dream, represent ignorance, negativity, distress or your shadow self. It also forewarns of overindulgence and letting lust give way to your better judgment. As a result, your physical and mental health may suffer.

Door

To see an opened door in your dream, symbolizes your receptiveness and willingness to accept new ideas/concepts. In particular, to see a light behind the door, suggests that you are moving toward greater enlightenment/spirituality.

Colors

Colors in dreams represent energy, emotions, and vibes. First consider what that single color in your dream means to you and your own personal associations and relationship with that color.�In general, pale pastel colors indicate weakness or subtlety. Dark colors represent passion and intensity. Bright colors mean awareness.

Red

Red is an indication of raw energy, force, vigor, intense passion, aggression, power, courage, impulsiveness and passion. The color red has deep emotional and spiritual connotations. Consider the phrase "seeing red" to denote anger. Alternatively, the color red in your dream indicates a lack of energy. You are feeling tired or lethargic.

Red is also the color of danger, violence, blood, shame, rejection, sexual impulses and urges. Perhaps you need to stop and think about your actions.

White

White represents purity, perfection, peace, innocence, dignity, cleanliness, awareness, and new beginnings. You may be experiencing a reawakening or have a fresh outlook on life. Alternatively, white refers to a clean, blank slate. Or it may refer to a cover-up. In Eastern cultures, white is associated with death and mourning.

Blue

Blue represents truth, wisdom, heaven, eternity, devotion, tranquility, loyalty and openness. Perhaps you are expressing a desire to get away. The presence of this color in your dream, may symbolize your spiritual guide and your optimism of the future. You have clarity of mind. Alternatively, the color blue may also be a metaphor for "being blue" and feeling sad.

Premonition or Dream?

2011-06-23T05:45:00.000-07:00

5:15am April 14th, 2009: Midwestern United States

My eyes spring open as I let out a breath of despair. My body shivers in a cold sweat and I stare at the ceiling. “Waa.” [Silence] “Waa,” my youngest son calls for me. Forcing myself to sit up, I look towards the night stand and strain to see the clock. [5:15am]

I look to my right and see my girlfriend (former relationship/mother of my youngest son) curled in a ball; sleeping oblivious to the world. “Waa,” he calls for me. “I need to get up. Get up,” I command myself. I take a deep breath, and wrap my arms around my body. I’m clammy, but I don’t feel sick. I try to blink myself into awareness. “Waa.”

I press my palms into the mattress and swing my legs off the side of the bed. They move like their in casts, and my feet drop to the floor [Thud]…and I sit there. “Waa.” My skin stings as the sweat dries. I stand up and sway as I recollect the jolt that woke me…chaos. “Waa.”

I stumble clumsily through the hallway on into the kitchen and fumble for a bottle. I unscrew the nipple, set them down obnoxiously and retrieve the milk from the fridge. “4 ounces,” I say aloud, and re-screw the nipple. “Waa.” “Coming Son, be patient, I’m coming,” I whisper head of me.

I walk into my son’s bedroom and notice the darkness. The sun hasn’t risen yet, and my eyes are slow to adjust. He’s sitting upright in his crib, with a little hand reaching up to me, but those little fingers aren’t wanting me…they’re welcoming the bottle in my hand. He coos as he grips the bottle, falling back into the bed and then pulls his whobbie close to him.

“Why weren’t you there? Where was your brother? Where was my oldest son?” I think to myself. My mind still shadowy from sleep, I tap on the railing lightly as if to sooth my son, but really it’s to sooth myself; I turn from his room.

“My job is done,” I croak out hoarsely and pace back to my side of the bed. I slither under the blankets and retch from discomfort. The blanket is damp…and cold. I grunt my annoyance and maneuver some of girlfriend’s warm covers over myself.

I fumbled and stumbled, and froze, and pushed myself out of bed to care for my boy, and now I’m wide awake. [Sighs] I lie on my left side, my back thieving girlfriend’s warmth, and try to place myself in the nightmare that woke me.

It was far beyond dusk, and I couldn’t see the moon in a virtually cloudless desert sky. There were mountains in the distant North and the Eastern horizon was clear. I paid no attention to the West, or to the South, I just stared east and studied the flat plains of a desert spotted with flora.

There was a building a few yards behind me; an old airplane hangar; metallic and rusty in color. A tall, thin girl with long dark hair and a tan complexion was standing a few feet in front of its open bay door. To my sides were two men around my age; mid thirties; but in this dream I think I was older than them. Both tall, slender, and clean cut; geekish and wholesome. I knew them, but didn’t recognize them, and couldn’t make out any of their features.

I could sense others behind me…somewhere in the lightless hanger, but couldn’t see them, and didn’t care to look. I knew them, or…I knew of them. I couldn’t feel the climate; couldn’t feel a chill, or any heat. I couldn’t smell the open air, and I had no concept of time or date, only that it was night.

Something in the sky streaked overhead from the West to the East and left a hazy trail behind it. I looked up and saw a few more streaks of red and orange. At first I didn’t understand what I was looking at, but then I recognized what it was; a meteor storm. I had never witnessed one in person but I’d seen them in photographs and on television.

My companions must have noticed the phenomenon at the same time I did. They became antsy and excited, as if they expected the light show. They hopped excitedly for a moment and half challenged each other to investigate it. I didn’t know how I knew these men, but found myself wondering if they were astronomers or scientists of a similar collar.

Suddenly the night sky lit up as a barrage of meteors and their tails crossed over head and vanished into the horizon. My company left me running in the direction of the onslaught; towards the East. I heard an anxious commotion behind me and wondered if I was part of some scientific gathering to witness this celestial event...but something told me I wasn’t. Something inside of me was fearful, and I didn’t know why.

I stepped backward cautiously and six meteors streaked overhead. Their tails were different now; more like lasers cutting through atmosphere, and I saw it. I saw a mass that couldn’t have been a meteor; maybe a comet, but it’s high, too high. It’s bigger then a comet…”Is that an asteroid,” I thought to myself.

There wasn’t a tail like the others, and it crossed the night’s sky from the West to the East but didn’t vanish, instead…its fiery glow ended and then burst into a bright yellow brilliance; flickering out. A millisecond more and it exploded into an hour glass of light reaching to unimaginable heights far above the horizon; up into the Heavens.

Fear enveloped me and I panicked, almost to tears. I started stepping backward and reaching behind me for the girl’s hand, and grasped it. I turned toward the hanger and started to sprint and stopped suddenly. People were screaming from inside the building; from a stairway that appears to lead into a basement.

I craned my neck to the east and saw flicking flames in the distance and a billowing smoke. The entire horizon was lined with a mountain high wave of cloud resembling a volcanoes pyroclastic flow. Terror choked me and I staggered into the darkened hanger only to discover the screams faded into frantic warnings, “it broke through…run!”

I looked towards the voices and the same cloud was billowing out of the stairway and swallowing everyone trying to escape its pursuit. I looked at the girl and saw terror in her eyes. I turned back to the east…and woke up. That’s the last thing I remember.

I started to drift off into sleep and as I did 2012 kept repeating in my head; 2012, 2012, 2012… I woke up in the early afternoon, just after 10:00am. I saw my girlfriend carrying the laundry bin and our son chasing after her in a giggle.

It’s Tuesday and my oldest son's with his mother until the weekend. It’s just the three of us for now. I pried myself out of bed and made for the coffee maker; my priorities. I stood with a sway and watched it brew. Added two scoops of sugar, a French Vanilla creamer; stirred it…and stepped outside for my morning cigarette.

Its cold for April, maybe 30 degrees at most, and the wind feels like razor blades. I smoked, and sipped on my coffee. I must have looked like a zombie. My hair was a frizzy mess, my clothes mismatched, and I’m sure my facial expression was nothing more than droopy.

I thought of my dream. “What did it mean,” I thought to myself. I’m a notorious skeptic and laugh off anything floating outside of the boundaries of deductive reasoning and logic. If it an explanation doesn’t materialize after using the scientific method then it’s written off as a fluke or a hoax, or an overactive imagination. If something falls outside of the laws of physics it does-not-exist.

“What is a dream,” I ask myself as I burn through a cigarette.

-Thomas aka SecretCog

Remember what?

2010-06-27T11:45:00.000-07:00

This kinda shines a little positive light on Alzheimer's Disease. See, it's like this...you're with the same woman for 30, say 50 years right? Sure you love her. Sure...couldn't imagine life without her, but if you forget her it's a win-win situation right? Everyday you're waking up next to a different woman...or man...or interactive pc (if you're into that sort of thing).

Truth-be-told, Alzheimer's Disease sucks. I've seen it first hand and it sucks. We shouldn't wish it on anyone...even if you owe them money...lol! It would be nice to see modern medical science cure this but we can't even get pimples and stupidity cured, so I suppose it has to stand in line next to AD/HD and Herpies.

Speaking of AD/HD...have you ever been to a little league game full of AD/HD kids? You're sitting on the bleachers watching the kids while the kids are watching the butterflies. "Keep your eye on the ball kid," and "Hey stop spinnin and circles and pay attention." And while the coach is screaming this at the kids you look over at the single moms scratching at their herpies. Darn medical science.

Oh, and I figured out how to deal with the oil spill...ask an actor. And when this astroid that is coming straight at us is about to hit...ask a guitar player. Wink.

2009-12-03T18:30:00.001-08:00

www.secretasylum.com See for yourself.

2009-11-04T14:09:00.001-08:00

Don't be a Mr. Person paper stamp; who understands below the rulers business hand.

This Scares the Crap out of me!

2009-11-03T23:20:00.000-08:00

The following definition was copied and pasted from this web site:

http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/biological+weapon

-Begin Quote-

Biological weapon Function: noun Date: 1947

: a harmful biological agent (as a pathogenic microorganism or a neurotoxin) used as a weapon to cause death or disease usually on a large scale.

-End Quote-

For the purpose of making my life easier (because I’m pathetically lazy and want to shorten words, even though I took the time to write this ridiculous disclaimer) I will refer to the above term as bio-weapon. What is a bio-weapon? If you’re asking this question…look above this paragraph; you twit! I took the time (under two minutes) to type in the term in my web browser, clicked on the definition, and I copied and pasted it up there for you to read. Duh!

Bio-weapons come in many forms. According to the Center for Decease Control in Atlanta, Georgia, there are three categories of bio-weapons. I won’t bore you with details, but I can assure you that “Dutch Ovens” aren’t listed under a category of Bio-terrorism. It’s true…they’re not. A Jewish girl I once dated (I’m part German, and you’ll understand my mention in a moment) accused me of anti-Semitic terror because I a-s gassed her. I pulled the blanket over her head and released an S.B.D. (Silent But Deadly) bio-butt attack. Not to worry though. I found no category including rotten egg smelling farts, so all of us immature boyfriends and evil big brothers have nothing to worry about.

In case you’re annoying curiosity wants further information regarding the C.D.C.’s bio-weapon categories, and any relevant facts you should know about, I’ve posted their link. But not until you finish reading this thread because I wrote it and anything I write should be considered more important then anything about the end of the f-cking world, so here’s the link: http://emergency.cdc.gov/bioterrorism/

If you’re still reading this, I love you, and I want you to know that I appreciate my fans; especially if they send me money for nothing, so send cash ‘via’ snail mail to:

For those of you that paused your reading to click on the link and get all distracted, we had tons of fun while you were gone, but now all of the cyber cake is gone, and the exotic dancers and their donkey have left; too bad for you; read on…

There have been an unknown number of unconfirmed tests in which governments have simulated bio-weapon attacks on their soil. One such experiment was conducted in a London, England subway tunnel. A bio-thing-a-ma-jig (probably a cold virus) was released into a crowd and the local hospitals (or some shack they threw up) where monitored for patients admitting themselves regarding the whatever it was they got from the test. All of the simulations by different nations government agencies where pretty much the same. I only have one link to give you to validate this claim, but again, don’t click it until your done reading this thread…because remember…Cogs more important! The link for you backstabbers is:

http://www.highbeam.com/doc/1P2-12505287.html

Think about these tests with me. Some guy in a really cool black suit and a really cool communications ear piece walked into a subway and released a nasty little bug. The commuters, and the local hookers, starving, jobless wine-o’s all got exposed to a bug. They’re traveling to their destinations while this thing is moving through their bodies. What’s the common incubation period for the flu? 3-7 days? How far away and apart could these travelers spread? Maybe one guy takes the train to the airport and flies to New York, and another teaches at Paris, Frances largest high school, and another is the ticket lady at a museum.

Within three days this bug could have spread around the world…twice! If this was a deadly bio-terrorist attack, we’d be in some major cow patties! These tests are conducted to analyze bio-weapon attacks and their results are used to help under-paid government cubicle inmates design response plans that won’t work because people suck, and their selfish, and they’d rather riot when faced with a catastrophe instead of working together! Allow me to contradict myself for a moment; New Yorkers on 9/11…you are [b]all[/b] awesome! All of you worked together that day and I hope the rest of the world learns from your bravery. And…L.A. during the King riots…you suck, and you should be ashamed of yourselves! I’m embarrassed for you!

[Before all of you Lost Angelis folks who rioted start writing me threatening hate mail, learn from your mistakes, and be a better person then me, and send me your money…all of it, and you’ll feel better for yourself for doing it, and I’ll feel better for myself because you did it, and because I can afford the platinum toilet that revs like an engine when flushed]

I support the exercises the governments are conducting to minimize, or prevent bio-weapons casualties, so long as there are zero fatalities. I think it’s a wise move considering the state of affairs in our world, and the ease of technological means required to produce such an arsenal. However, I’m still terrified of the possibility that such an attack could occur. There’s a sick f-ck to build it, and there’s a sick f-ck to use it. I think we should all invest in adult diapers and wear them…vigilantly!

Gas masks are no better then the “Duck and Cover” drills from the 1950’s. We need S.C.B.A.’s (Self Contained Breathing Apparatuses) and Level A/B fully encapsulated suits just to live through said attack. How long will that last? That depends on what you’ve been exposed to, what’s its life span, how does it spread, how much oxygen is in your tank(s), and where are you when the exposure occurred? (i.e.: if you’re in jail…your f-cked!)

What about long term affects? What about a shelter? Can you dig a hole in the ground and wait things out? That depends on whether its air borne, and whether it’s lighter then air. If its heavier then air, your screwed…better to live on that sheet of plywood you nailed up in your parents tree and called a fort! I don’t know if preparation is even possible at this point. There are too many variations to decide upon. Let’s use this thread to discuss:

1) Fears of a biological weapon;

2) Types of bio-weapons;

3) Crazies capable of using these weapons;

4) Survival tips; and

5) What materials we can have available in our Go-Bags to help us tackle this threat.

Now, to all of those loyal readers, click on the links above and learn some stuff so you can return to this thread and discuss it. Also, here’s a helpful link F.Y.I.: http://www.american-gas-masks.com/gas-threat-map.htm

2009-10-21T05:36:00.001-07:00

You can be a well know punk rock artist, but never a celebrity. An underground legend, but never famous, and never-ever rich!

Can't sleep so I blogged...

2009-10-20T22:36:00.000-07:00

Youngest baby mamma...with half her hair done.

.Nope, this won’t embarrass her. She's posted this pic herself on Facebook.

And here's a pic I took from my cell phone. It's a Chicago Police officer watching me watch him watch me take a picture of him. He pulled away moments after the picture with a paranoid look in his eyes. Odd...I was the one parked illegally! Besides, I love the C.P.D.! Best outfit in the U.S.A. I was taking the picture because it just looked natural

Here's a life size replica of the Transformer Bumblebee from the Chicago Auto Show. My oldest son and I stood in front of this thing for 30 minutes and did nothing more then gaze at it. We imagine it came to life. Though...I'm sure my son thought it would fight the Decepticons hiding in his lunch that he refused to eat...I was more interested in the mechanical and technological means to make such a monstrosity take place...and I wondered if it would have a bumper to bumper warranty.

Scary picture I found randomly in Photobucket...

Another scary picture I found randomly in photobucket...

Let's discuss emo for a second...okay that's was all.

Fooling Oneself Into Love...

2009-10-20T15:28:00.000-07:00

http://www.secretasylum.com/ has a new sub-forum under the Group Therapy: Member Hosted Forums Catagory titled:

Love/Hate: Standing along the high electrified fence, you kneel down and pick a dandelion and start to pull off it's petals: they love me? They hate me? They love me? They hate me? Geez...if only you knew how your multiple personalities REALLY felt about you!

I posted its first post "Fooling Oneself Into Love." I decided to blog it as it may help those individuals having trouble with love after realizing their significant other isn't what they presumed them to be! Read on...

At the time that I'm writing this post, I'm 35 years old, and I've fallen in love more times than the number of women I've dated. Yes it sounds odd, but it's true.

I'm one of those oddities that can fall in love with a beauty as she walks toward me, and my heart will break as she walks on bye. You're probably smirking a little and correcting me by thinking, or mumbling through pursed lips "That's nothing more than attraction."

I'm familiar with the laws of attraction and that isn't what I'm referring to. I literally fall in love at the batting of a femmes eyes. It's not a beneficial characteristic; it's a curse. I'm fortunate enough to be engaged at the moment thus avoiding the roller coaster ride my romantic life takes when single.

With that said, let's get to the cream filling in this Twinkie... I think it's safe to assume that at one point or another all of us have projected our wishful desires unto the face of another. We meet someone; date them; ignore their flaws; and begin to view them as the romantic partner we're looking and hoping for instead of the romantic partner they're capable of.

I'm notorious for this. I meet a woman and imagine she will laugh at all my jokes (and she will at first); we will have endless conversations together (and we do...for the first month, then the conversation becomes one sided and dominated by her, leaving me to nod in compliance, grunting "uh huh" every few seconds, and day dreaming about giant asteroids hurdling toward the Earth); and she isn't a head case (until a few months pass, her drinking problem surfaces, and she insists on therapy where I'll learn everything is my fault, including her drug and alcohol dependency that started 10 years before I even met her).

Thank God I don't have to deal with that now. I am happy in love, and I have a solid partner. But... I have been through this in the past, and so have many others. Why do we project false images on people we date? Don't we realize the folly and the inevitable collapse that awaits us?

I know this one guy...

He went through a period of solitary after a break-up in 2007 with his significant other who was also his 2nd baby’s mama.

Months of depression living alone in his apartment led him to seek a new lover. His first night out...he saw her, errr…will explain this part later, read on.

Standing on a busy street corner on Chicago’s North Side, was a chocolate princess: curves in all the right places; good black girl hair; and was dressed for the club... an Amish club if such a place existed. She was dressed appropriately for the weather, but had an attractive wardrobe; not too flashy; with a turtleneck.

He watched her from the window of a local greasy spoon restaurant. (I'd like to add that our friend here has a creepy serial killer look about him. In reality, he's a really good dude, but he's just genetically creepy. Not ugly by any means, just creepy) He had a friend accompanying him who talked our guy into approaching the beauty and after a few stabs at our guys ego, he caved in and walked across the street to go "get him some a that!"

His heart was pounding, nerves where electrified, and you could tell he was rehearsing his introduction with each foot step. Just under a yard from her, they locked eyes; he smiled; she looked terrified...and literally turned around and ran away.

I sh-t you not. She ran like a horde of zombies were coming after her. To make things worse, there were others at that corner with her (they were outside in front of a club) and it was blatantly obvious that he was approaching her in an attempt to romance her up. He froze and everyone’s eyebrows rose with eyes widening in their sockets; uncomfortably and anxiously grinning, they stared him down. He just stood there.

His friend came to the rescue and literally pulled him away from the scene (laughing hysterically) and they went on a pub crawl. In the wee hours of the morning, inebriated, and jovial, the pair of lush buddies found their way back to the same greasy spoon to sober up on sh-tty coffee and nachos.

Still buzzing, they ventured into the night and there she was again. This time she just stared at him with a curiosity in her eyes. He took a deep breath, raised his arms and exposed his palms and said "Hi" with a humiliated "you just made me look like a f-ckin moron" chuckle.

You could tell she was pleased when her full red lips twisted into a seductive and amused smile, and had a hesitant yet curious twinkle in her eyes.

He approached her and after a short introduction (and disclaimer that he wasn't trying to tie her up and eat her later) the flawless flirtation began. It was so successful that his wingman strolled off and soon after…her laughter drown out anyone’s hope of ease dropping. Until the big laugh!

I'm not sure what caused it... all I know is that he our guys humor was in its prime form and she couldn't restrain her responses any longer (side note: her laugh was loud but controlled and sweet, almost too sweet) and she lifted her head to the sky, protected her stomach with an open hand and laughed loud, hearty, and deep; very deep; extremely deep; too deep for a female.

And all that had eyes could see our guys smile fade, and his eyebrows flatten as a look of bewilderment and intrigue took control of his face. It wasn't so much the laugh as we've all heard the female octaves drop from soprano to baritone -add anger. It was what he saw...on her neck...where an Adams apple shouldn't be!

Immediately becoming uncomfortable he went straight for the kill (not literally, but figuratively) and asked "di-ahhh-did, ummm...do you have, uhhh...are you a guy?"

Now...before we continue, let's review. Man sees girl at a distance. Man approaches girl; girl flees. Man gets drunk almost to the point of poisoning and sees girl again. Man approaches girl...in the dark....while senses are hampered by alcohol...and as he speaks with girl, he begins to sober. Girl has an Adams apple.

Okay... so after he asked her about her sex, “Are you a guy?”and she says "No, but I use to be," one of her hands is now supporting her, ummm... his, ummm....their lower back and the other is waving their index finger in the air "hold up" she says with a sass "why you tripping for? What you doin here if you aint into this?"

This is when our guy realizes his wingman is across the street laughing. He also realizes that's it's been some years since he was in this part of town, then he realizes that the thumping club she’s been standing in front of is "Berlin," Chicago’s gay and transvestite club (imagine the Rocky Horror Picture Show on steroids).

He explains that he's not gay and that she is the most beautiful dude he's ever seen (he obviously didn't know what else to say since he didn't have his copy of "Homo Etiquette For Dummies" handy) and he looked as if he was puckering his butt cheeks so much he'd fart out of his mouth…because everything he had just said was pretty much sh-t!

After making peace with her/him after offending her/him unintentionally, He then asks why she/he ran from him in the first place. She/He said matter-of-factly "I thought use was a cop. You look like da police, and I ain't standing here just to looking pretty...hunnn…you got money?" He stepped back with hands up in the air, palms facing her, frantically nodding a refusal and stuttering “I-I’m ahhh..I’m not gay! She/He laughed it off, turned around and shook her/his rump as she/he walked away. She/He was a prostidude.

The moral to this story...know where all the gay bars are and avoid talking to anyone standing in front of it unless you're into that sort of thing.

Oh wait a second... That's not why I posted this. The real moral here is projecting your wants on another human being without acknowledging and excepting the reality of who they are (in this case a gay guy hooker who had a sex change into a tranny) will lead you down the road to no-no-ville.

A whole lotta nuthin...

2009-10-18T21:58:00.000-07:00

Nothing I’m about to say is going to surprise you: Lithopedian’s 4 track unreleased Ep is now a 10 track unreleased Lp; The I.F.U.’s Ep has changed its course “yet again” and I haven’t the slightest idea when it’s due for release; the SecretCog project is beyond collecting dust…it’s now similar to that cat looking building in the Egyptian desert; and did I mention that I won 80 billion dollars in a Pacman tournament? No! Well…that’s because I didn’t! Nope…I’m still doing what it is I do when I’m not here, there, or at that other place. ~sighs~

So I found this picture in my desktops picture files and I haven't the slightest idea how it got there. I thought that maybe it's an eclipse...but it kinda looks like the global economy; a blackhole in the middle of a black background with some pretty little lights trying to keep your attention away from the fact that it's really just a whole lotta nothing here to see. Yup...it's our economy alright!

Lithopedian Inching Toward Completion...

2009-08-13T07:54:00.000-07:00

We're at it again...
"N" and I tracked vocals to two songs this past Sunday. However, we are far from complete on this project.

This pic to the right is a screen shot of the studioware that we use: Cakewalks Sonar 8 Producer.

Recording's come a long way from the days when a band would mic a room and have at it.

The best part... We aren't spending 2k a day in a studio!

The release date is about as elusive as a ghost, but I'll let you know when more of this project is completed.

Stamps, Heather the Boy Hater, and a Chicken...

2009-07-29T15:51:00.000-07:00

"I had to purchase 10 stamps to mail some letters." How’s that sentence sound to you? It’s simple to understand right? It appears to be a simple task right?

Sure…but, maybe you’re in your local Walmart and you’ve waiting in line for twenty minutes to purchase stamps. Sure…maybe there‘s some ignorant shoppers wandering about. Sure…the old lady greeting customers smells like she needs her diaper changed. Sure…you’re just having one of those “I don’t really wanna be in f –ckin Walmart buying stamps right now,” kinda days.

But hey… after twenty minutes of standing in a line behind stinky-Bob and his dripping arm pits, or standing in front of Shana nay whom you’re pretty positive is a tranny, after she says hello provocatively in a deep male voice… it’s finally your turn. Yup…it’s your turn to stand in front of the register while Heather yaps on the phone to whoever the f-ck she’s yapping too. And they’re talking about boys. And she’s crying. And you’re a boy. And she notices this. And now she’s glaring at you…because you’re a boy (errr…in my case a man, but she really was talking about boys). Long story short… they don’t have any stamps.

So if you’re me, and you’re not, but just pretend that you are for a moment, which means you need to think all paranoid, like the whole world is caving in on you… So, if you’re me, you’d think she was holding back the goods all because you’re a boy! Which she’s not, but you’re a paranoid a-shole who asks for miserable, under paid managers at Walmart so you can ask where the f-cking stamps are because you’ve been standing in line for twenty f-ckin minutes and you feel entitled to them!

Then the manager informs you that not only do they not have any stamps, but they’ve never carried any. Then Heather Scoffs at you; gnarls her lips; and evil-eyes you. Oh…and do you remember my comment about paranoia, and the whole world being out to get you? Well…everyone really is starring at you as you walk out the front door trying to save face and look cool, but really you look like you’re squeezing you’re a-s cheeks so tight your head is gonna pop off! And you’re blushing. And your lips are trembling while you hold back tears of humiliation (this last parts all you Bro… I tend to strut like George Jefferson, and never cry like I have two daddies…Rambo, and Chuck Norris!…hell yeah!).

So there you are. Afraid that your significant other is gonna think you’re an idiot. You wise up and do what you’ve should’ve done in the first place; go to your local Post Office.

[Maybe if every f-ck up was this valuable, I'd be a bazillionare by now]

On way to the Post Office; you’re cut off by one of those Smart Cars; flipped off by a homeless person for no apparent reason (but hey…at least he was smiling when he did it…him and his two teeth); and as you pull into the parking lot you’re stopped by an elderly women walking past…very, very slowly, thus causing the rear of your vehicle to hang out on the street blocking traffic. Now the whole city is honking at you for not running her over so they can get to where ever it is they need to get to.

Once inside, you check your P.O. Box on the slim chance that you’ll have thousands of fan letters pouring onto the floor. And they’re all from beautiful women. And they’re all sending you money, and cookies and pictures of them while they bake you the cookies. But no; it’s empty. It’s empty because people that write fan letters don’t listen to your music. It’s empty because you just got the d-mn box a couple of months ago for a new project no one even knows you’re in! -sighs-

So you close the empty box and head over to the front desk. The buildings empty except for the post woman…and you. As you approach the station she glares at you and points to the sign that reads [please wait your turn here]. So you wait. And you wait; still waiting. While you’re waiting might I add that YOU’RE THE ONLY ONE IN THE MOTHER F-CKIN POST OFFICE! And you wait some more. And she calls on you “Next.”

Now she’s smiling at you and she smells kind of familiar, but not old Walmart lady in soiled diapers familiar, and not clinically insane postal lady familiar, but kind of a cross between cheese, and baby powder. So you ask to buy some stamps, and she tells you they don’t have any.

The Post Office of the United States of America does not have any stamps. “Well go f-ck myself,” you blurt. “Excuse me,” she replies. You sigh, turn around, and with all of the attitude of a 5 year old girl, you walk out. And you’re not walking like George Jefferson, but more like that 5 year old girl after mommy told her she can’t have the new Breast Implant Barbie.

End note…A Post Office out of stamps is like a KFC out of chicken. It’s just not supposed to happen.

-Cog

[I don't know who made this pic, but It would be a better explanation then anything the Post Office could come up with]

www.lithopedian.com

2009-07-23T17:56:00.000-07:00

UPDATE: We've made a little headway recently and we released a track from 2007 called "Thief Of Silence." It's our creepiest song to date. The best description I can offer is... think of every vicious horror movie you've ever viewed. Are you imagining it? Yeah...good. Now imagine that your in the film and the villian is giving a spoken word performance to an audience of zombies. That's a pretty dead-on description.

The Ep and Lp aren't completed yet, but we've created a new MySpace account at: www.myspace.com/officiallithopedian as well as establishing it's own web site here at: http://www.lithopedian.com/

Pay us a visit, and get involved before the albums are released! And remember... "Shhh..."

www.secretasylum.com

2009-07-23T17:33:00.000-07:00

I've been tinkering with the idea of starting a web based forum for some time now. I wanted to build a site for the sub-cultural side of the art and entertainment industry. A haven for rockers, tattoo artisist, piercers, etc.

I've been a member of several different forums over the years and I've enjoyed the privilage of moderating my own sub-forum: "Shhh...They're Listening!" at Mabus Incarnate but I felt that it was time to try my hand at Administrating an online community.

The site allows users to join for free, create a small profile, post in the forums and start thier own threads. On the portal page there's a chat window where members and tourists can meet and greet, and the best part... it's all linked to Mabus Incarnate as well as my personal web site: http://www.secretcog.com/ and the band I'm currently working with http://www.lithopedian.com/

Before I forget, here's how you get to the forum: http://www.secretasylum.com/ Enjoy!

Mabus, Music, and My favorite sketches...

2009-07-12T13:26:00.000-07:00

It's 3:26pm and I'd love to give you some ear candy! But... I can't. It Just isn't finished yet. The Lithopedian session went well, and we worked on a new tracks: "Pro Spiritubus," and "Into Twilight With Secret Fire."

Unrelated sketch of me slaying zombies by Rez at http://www.rnabrand.com/

We did remaster (and when I say remaster, I really mean lazily and totally unprofessionally convert the sloppy mix into a wav and mp3 file) the first Lithopedian song "Thief of Silence." I must admit that this is the creepiest work I've worked on yet. If I can get my partner to give the nod (yeah, most musicians work in pairs/twos like the d-mn Sith!) I'll post a sample of the track at http://www.myspace.com/secretcog with all of the other sample tracks.

Another unrelated sketch done by Rez at http://www.rnabrand.com/ of the Host of the Mabus Incarnate Show: BLC...

Regarding the samples on the above mentioned web site... They are just samples. Unfinished bits on a page I'm not promoting (haven't promoted jack since Monkey Mouse) and they are there for two reasons: 1) I'm an insanely busy person, and this pushes me to make time for my musical endeavors; and 2) It helps me brainstorm with other musicians I speak to all over this giant rock we live on.

My GQ pose.

That said... I'd like to give a shout out to my side thang...

She's a dirty lil'Tramp!

As for the SecretCog project... it's coming people. Be patient. I promise you'll hate it just as much as you hate me!

Lastly http://www.mabusincarnate.com/ If your into anything and everything from science to conspiracies; from theology to metaphysics, then visit this site. There's a chat service and the forums are loaded with brainy goodness. Joining is free, and be warned... this place is addictive!

The Lithopedian Project

2009-07-10T21:14:00.000-07:00

I've worked on many projects over the years. Most of the ventures I assisted were punk/hardcore/metal based, but Lithopedian is the first time I've attempted doom thanks to the bands mastermind "Morg" formally of Orcen

Here's a snapshot of us at work in '07.

We began this undertaking back in 2007, and it's been a long time coming. We have tracks tucked away and awaiting release, and this Sunday July 12th, we should finally be able to finish up our new material.

Stay tuned!

Fourth of July in Sweet Home...

2009-07-10T16:16:00.000-07:00

My family and I celebrated Uncle Sam's birthday on July 3rd at Grant Park in Chicago, Illinois. We spent the afternoon gorging ourselves at the Taste of Chicago and then threw a blanket on the grass along Lake Shore Drive right in front of Buckingham Fountain. Seated with a sea of an estimated 1 million spectators, we relaxed and enjoyed the show, and only one (1) person was carted off in an ambulance this year (that we witnessed)! Not bad considering last years mayhem...

A snapshot we took of the fireworks 2009

Last year we reclined inside of Butler Field in front of the Petrillo Music Shell to watch the fireworks show. Just as the grand finale kicked into full gear, a massive crowd started running along the fence line. I was able to catch the following image of the runners...

Marathon Chicago Style, "everyone run there's a gun!"

Okay... let's not be harsh. I'm not a photographer! We didn't even know why they were running until the news reported the disturbance during our drive home. Turns out there was a gunfight, and everyone fled. The point here is even though C.P.D. was in riot gear with helicopters, spotlights, watch towers, and perimeter fencing after this past incident...we still had a good time.

The annoying glowing stripes are part of the barrier erected at this years event.

Giant Turkey Legs smothered in BBQ sauce, Jerk Chicken and Rice, Chicago Deep Dish Pizza, Catfish Nuggets, Over-Priced Soda, Sweaty Crowds of Fat Gnarly People, then on to a Littered Over-Crowded Park, full of those same Sweaty Fat Gnarly People...who are now too Over-Stuffed, and hopped up on Ant-Acids to move from the craters they're forcing into the grass, Cops marching like Storm Troopers with massive explosions blazoned across the sky. I love my Chicago!

[DISCLAIMER: SC IS ONLY JOKING ABOUT THE SWEATY FAT GNARLY PEOPLE ATTENDING THE FESTIVITIES. HE WOULD NEVER THINK TO PRINT SOMETHING OFFENSIVE OR DEROGATORY ABOUT ANYONE. EVERYONE WAS BEAUTIFUL, DRY, AND THEY HAD PERFECT BODIES. IT WAS THE INSUFFICIENT LIGHTING FROM THE SUN THAT CAUSED THERE PERFECTLY CHISELED PHYSIQUES TO DISTORT AND SLOTH IN APPEARANCE AND THE MOISTURE IN THE AIR COLLECTED ON THE SHIRTS ALONG THE CHEST AREA AND UNDER THEIR ARM PITS...MAKING IT APPEAR AS IF THEY WERE SWEATING NIAGRA FALLS AND IT WAS THE CITY SEWER STINKING AND NOT THEM, OH NO... EVERYBODY WAS A F----N RUNWAY MODEL!]

Fathers Day, Tattoos, and George Clinton in 2009!

2009-06-27T06:59:00.000-07:00

Happy Fathers Day! President Calvin Coolidge nationalized the third Sunday in June to be celebrated annually as Fathers Day in 1924. A conspiracy theory has been floating around accusing the U.S. government of designating said holiday to appease lobbyists in the tie and cologne industry...CLICK HERE FOR SOURCE!

Amber and our sons took me to the Chicago Tattoo Convention at Navy Pier hosted by the Body Art Expo. We had a good time and met some talented artists. If you're planning to attend a tattoo convention, show up early! This place was packed and every booth was booked until closing.

The night before I attended the Fathers Day Funk Festival at Chicagos Arie Crown Theater with Ambers best friends father Lonnie. George Clinton and the Parliament Funkadelics "Mothership" headlined, with guests the Ohio Players featuring Sugarfoot, the Bar-Kays, Con Funk Shun, the Dazz Band and Slave.

If you haven't listened to 70's funk you've done yourself a great injustice! Funk tweaked modern punk and alternative rock, least I forget what it did for Hip Hop. George Clinton is not only the king of funk, he's the shovel that built the foundation of today's pop and hip hop cultures.

R.I.P. Michael Jackson (1958-2009). Aside from the controversy surrounding him (he was never convicted) he was an icon, a hero, and an inspiration to musician's everywhere. He also grew up not far from me, and he's thought of fondly all over Gary, Indiana and Chicago land.

Chicago Blues Festival 2009

2009-06-18T19:51:00.000-07:00

Spent Saturday June 13th in Grant Park for the Chicago Blues Festival. If you've never attended...it's worth the pilgrimage! Gibson Guitars had a show-trailer stocked with it's gems and a stage to showcase the talent. Below, my oldest son and I post next to the Legendary Mississippi Blues Bus.

This years Blues Fest was dedicated to Koko Taylor (1928-2009)

http://www.kokotaylor.com/

Eden...

2009-06-10T16:32:00.000-07:00

If I was a rapper I'd boastfully call this the thought before the big bang! But I'm not, so I'll call it what it is... pro---cras---ti---na---tion.

The website http://www.secretcog.com/ is currently under construction, and so is this blog. The SC Ep will be released soon enough, but first... I'm finishing up the Lithopedian Ep.

Stay Tuned...