Powerless as a bee dies

I saw the worst thing today
A trapped bumblebee slowly
eaten alive

The poor thing was lost looking
For an open window to escape
Into warm air

Instead it crashed against a musty
windowpane knocking itself unconscious
spelling out its own doom

The bees golden black body
Ricochet downward across the room
into a heavy drapery of silken cobwebs
spun by a menacing spider a waiting silent killer

I thought i saw the eight legged monster bounce up with glee
before letting the bee tire itself out completely
in woven webs ten times stronger than human concrete

I'm also ashamed to say that the bee was not the only one
that lay paralysed in the room I too was glued to the lounge chair
once in leisure now writhing in unabashed terror

I desperately wanted to grab a broom and shove it into the webs
saving the young bees life in the bloom of its youth
but worried I would only do more harm than good

Now I can't bare to look at that window again in case
I see the bees slender body drained of all life
a mere husk of the beautiful flying creature it once was

It was so happy and free before being murdered

All I can do now is erase and destroy all the webs
around my house to negate my sullen conscious
as a small token in homage to that fair bees life  extinguished

Only now have I come to realise how an innocent life can be lost
by my own inability to keep my house in order and free from vagabonds
lurking upon dirty windowsills

My first introduction to the work of Byron - 'She Walks in Beauty'

According to wikipedia Byron the poet/writer was the first rock star celeb.
Apparently the public of his time suffered from Byronmania haha.
His name at birth was George Gordon Byron. He arrived on the
22 January 1788 in London, England. All I know is this man could write. 
Check out one of his most famous poems below that he wrote about his 
cousins widow dressed in black while attending a fancy ball.
Apparently Nietzsche was also a fan of Byron and his idea of the superman
stems from Byron and his byronic hero that figures heavily in his written works.

Friends till the end

Zombies and Asteroids

Sometimes we all get fatigued and can’t be bothered stepping

down into the muddy cesspit of humanity. Together in groups or alone humans beings become identical when you weigh up  how they live. I believe it was Warhol who said whether your rich or poor Coca-Cola taste equally as good to you. So the woman flaunting her green diamonds is really no different to the poor unwashed beggar sleeping in a bus shelter. Both eat, drink, sleep and have unfulfilled wishes. It's the same with the sunburnt men bickering drunk while smoking expensive cigars in late afternoon. All the fat self-confessed know it alls have absolutely no idea why they're alive, each one knowing far less than the next. 

From a view educated by common sense, almost everyone seems to have the same generic facial expression photocopied across their faces. To hell with these people, impostors, fakes. What is the point of their stupid vacuous lives, like worn plasticine drooping from a rented ceiling they're destined to die like plants left out in the sun to long. No matter how much money they amass or alcohol they consume in time they will perish.

In this super-city of millions, Auckland, the sense of irony is that one can still struggle to find someone to dance or sing with even hold a meaningful conversation. Long gone are the days where courtship flared like lightning over a shared mulled wine in a cheap restaurant. I wouldn't go so far as to say that cerebral conversation was dead. But I would say it was dying, on life support, struggling to pay the bills with the doctors santized finger looming precariously over the white hospital switch. 

    

Drones, zombies, even spitting cobras are transformed into arrogant office workers in the mid-day sun. With their cynical spreadsheets and exotic cups of coffee they mull about as indistinguishable as over-sized ants crushed under the obscene weight of society. The last remnants of their fractured self is liquified by their bosses who control like Hollywood directors every action of there bad acting. Like caged animals bankers, accountants, lawyers all wander back and forth slowly breaking into pieces. Their brains reduced to pink putty ooze out across their new clear desks. The overworked zombies, men and woman alike they all seem so unloved, as if they were tortured in Guantonmo bay with a continuous loop of Eminem songs. After work the all simply fall apart like children's toys discarded and thrown into trash cans everywhere in the CBD. There human emotions bought for a pittance and manufactured and sold back to them in the form of flatscreen tv's with a Netflix's subscription not included. 

I still didn’t want a microscopic thing to do with these Camusian strangers. Even if they were destined to become the unfeeling leaders of our corrupt draconian world. These proletariat lords lingered heavy over me like a symphony of crying rain clouds reducing the world to grey, and yet like soggy unread newspapers the zombies were remarkably beautiful, even necessary to justify the whole of human achievement. For amongst the heaving madness of human society with all its mindless depravity one could still find glass shards of splinted miracles. Time and time again all throughout history a rainbow unicorn or a sharpened needle would be haphazardly tossed into the infinity of space. By the hand of beauty the oldest living Goddes who still breathed in deeply the smoggy air of our blue planet. She alone was truly Unbroken, love, gave life too all and sustained the growing nightmare of life in concrete deserts. Amongst the unfeeling and pitiful human's some rare souls still existed like love propelled asteroid's crashing landing into barren lives with the power to electrify reality.

The Killer in My Dreams

In front of me there’s a smashed in door

with a burnt out body inside.

The killer is scuttling around on the loose.

I can hear his feet padding around noisily.

I steal second and steady my breathing, my thoughts

racing into the recesses of my neocortex.

My desire to survive is overpowering.

This demands that I too my must become a killing machine

to escape this deadly encounter.

The hunt is on and I only know three things about

the assailant. He is male, armed

with a shotgun and has only one

shoulder. His slight of frame allows

him to hide in crevices and slide into

passages most men would get stuck in.

He may be a worth adversary only time will tell.

I will likely need my whole combined strength

mental and physical to take him down.

With a last gulp of metallic oxygen I burst through

the blood covered door shouting. I see him in the corner stunned,

everything turns to slow motion. Gun shots rattle

the walls like a child’s play toy. I am hit twice ripped flesh and blood leaking out my leg like spaghetti, but he lays motionless twitching.

As he lays dying it turns out I only knew two things about him.

He actually had two shoulders the myths and rumours were wrong.

Now he just looked like something resembling week old roadkill.

Who said hunting criminals was hard obviously never did,

the only thing tough about it was not turning into one yourself.

A Death in my Circle I lost my kind hearted friend Katie Oh

wow sad day throwing some dirt on my friends coffin not even 30 years old and they've past on. Makes you think about all the things you take for granted. While also fighting the want to turn the clock back and try to help them cause you never knew how much they needed you. Feeling melancholy cause you know the happy days and memories shared with that same person living and breathing less than a week ago are limited to the past tense. Your heart kind of cracks a little because you'll never be able to tell that person how much you loved them. It's so awful when you've treated someone like a family member but instead of them letting you help them they push you away and in the process they lose their personal battle with their demons and succumb all alone and die. You don't really get a second chance to save a life and you can't help but feel they had so much more to offer the world. My friend dying has me stronger and even more focused to chase my dreams, work hard and push on enjoying all the beautiful moments and things in life in their memory. Even if you would've wanted more than anything to have shared your journey in this world with them a little longer. Good bye for now Katie

A Synopsis and Thoughts on: "The Survivalist" Movie (2015)

So I watched a film about a dude lost in a forest somewhere in Ireland living in a hut last night. 
The title of the film is "The Survivalist" with the stock story-line about everyone dying on earth
 and the only survivors being reduced to starvation and brutal savagery.

The unnamed male protagonist who looked to me like a closest ginger, runs a horticulture farm that he patrols with a random shotgun strapped to his back. I'd describe the main characters personality as un-waveringly paranoid. At any moment he looks like he's going to shot someone or something a racy prospect. 

Despite the formidable circumstances the lead characters finds himself faced with he manages to create a nice little pad for himself with wooden walls a fire, heaps of locks on all his doors and even some makeshift plumbing that gets fresh water into his hut from a nearby water hole. 

After a while the viewers becomes accustomed to the monotonous mans way of life governed by fear and death jumping out from behind him at any moment. Then suddenly two woman appear on the scene literally trying to steal his radishes from his garden, Peter rabbit style. The guy gets mad angry at them and points a shotgun at both of them but then relents allowing them to stay the night as he fancies the younger woman. Naturally from this point on there is a strong undercurrent that underpins the film of the two woman trying to kill the man so that they can take over the farm, there only real prospect of living through winter. 

During the numerous attempts of murdering the man the young girl (Mia Roth) and the male protagonist start having a whole bunch of sex and start getting on famously with a cute little relationship blossoming. The new couples status only further complicates things as the girls mother is still hell bent on killing the guy so that she can smoke his modest stash of cigarettes. 

Synopsis over watch the film to see what happens!

What I want to mention though is the compelling qualities of "The Survivalist" that highlight the innate ability for human beings to be cold and calculating killers with our inbuilt instincts to thrive and survive in adverse conditions. When we are introduced to the male protagonist you can't help but put yourself in his own position and understand how human beings came out of the forest and wilderness by killing as a way of survival and life over countless generations. It's funny to think how badly we believe modern society to be what is really amazing is how superiour it is in many ways to the lonely precarious nature of the survivalist man. If he breaks his leg or falls ill he dies, in modern society you can simply rest in bed or wait for your broken bones to heal. It's a small difference but a very significant one that we are allowed to survive through what were once fatal accidents that seemonly trivial to us now.

The film also highlights how humans survived or died in nature due to the ability to hide and stay concealed from other predators. The myth of the apex human killing machine is mis-leading and not really true. In the film we see how human beings in our natural habitat generally only kill out of self-defence and the protection of vulnerable others. The remedial tasks of gathering food in the film also shows how something that was once so tough and a year long ordeal for most is now as simple as shopping at the stupid supermarket. 

Lastly if this film succeeds in anything it's in awaking the hunter within the viewer. In modern society we sometimes find ourselves so removed from the wild and animals that we forget how we came to dominate them or take the position of shepherd over them. Sadly there are no animals in the film of the survivalist except a bunny rabbit so our place within the spectrum of animals and nature does not reverberate as strongly as it could of. The lack of companionship of the male protagonist does seem in many ways self imposed. But what is certain is how many is a rare type of creature suited to running, fighting, hiding and in general surviving against the odds and even with others trying to kill him at every fork in the road. 

The role of horticulture in the movie also conveys how humanity slowly started to bring a certain amount of stability to our lives as we moved away from foraging and were allowed to grow crops and surplus food that could be stored. 

One of the axes I have to grind with the movie is the naivety of which the protagonist planted and cropped his plants and where he situated his house/dwelling out in the open. It seemed to me a slight loop hole in the movie that the man didn't try very hard to hide his house and crops away from the prying eyes of evil stranges with bad intent. Paradoxically he chose to build his gardens in-front of his house with no protective measures or any thought of camouflage introduced. And for this reason in many ways he didn't really seem like much of a survivalist more a denialist of the necessity to be careful which he so often preached in the film but didn't practice nearly enough.  

Robotic love tangled up in colourful leads :)

The 16 track sounded sick today drums had heaps of low end and the kick was intense like an old skool soul record glad I tinkered round with it a while ago now it's way more open and free kinda like the difference between being locked up and on the run.  
The guitars were shimmering almost orchestral clean not dirty. I hooked up the Ekadek electronics and sound​ Ak47 to my Akai hard disc recorder I rescued from a bargain bin many years ago a vintage grunge child of the 90's and was pleasantly surprised or in truth more like completely bowled over. I was just winging it as you do throwing up a few mics and capturing sound while trying new grooves and stuff. The wild, wet and windy backdrop of Auckland city and its up and down weather patterns provided the best scene like out of a movie for recording and mucking round and having fun. Its almost indescribable diving into the river of sound its pure and refreshing experience almost biblical you never quite know whats down their like the belly of the beast all the possibilities surrounding you like fate swirling round in immeasurable depths :) But God Am I looking forward to Summer or what man! 

The Unrelenting Pursuit of Leighton Keutenius for New Music (Episode 1)

Dear Readers
I just want to let everyone know that we have a new columinst joining TMR in 2014 this week called Leighton Keutenius. He is a great friend of mine and is at the beating heart of new music on the internet. His unrelenting pursuit of new music is an amazong asset to us here at the Moss Rock and we are really excited to have his help. Below are all the rare and hard to find musos/records he's found for us this week. I hope you enjoy them as much as I have listening to them. Thanks for your support Leight brilliant to have you with us!!! :) 



Great band for Black Keys Lovers!!!



Baxter hes done bad things migrated to truck stop bus greyhound central from the middle east check the production out on this play it loud original songwriter on his time in his own mind so fricken happy to find




Sometimes the music just gotta be peeled back with paintstripper so it leaves a burn on the flesh this album isnt about musical evolution but more standing strong in its musical direction its a foming stew of early police with a sesoning of sublime get those jandals on now and taste this well smoked bbq

http://www.last.fm/music/Aaron+Kamm+and+the+One+Drops/_/Not+Too+Late





These dudes album "Yardboat" is really unique and trippy. This performance of theirs wouldn't be a miss at Woodstock awash with the vibes that go with a concert of such epic proportions. 
I really like the songs "Magnetoception" and "Fountains of Gold" there names alone are brilliant.

They have subtle influences of the Doors and bands of that era. It seems to me the more you think about these guys the better they are. The drummers ghost name game is on point. The long hair is
kick-ass. Also the background vocals remind me of the Klaxons monster hit but instead of limited to one song they span the whole album "Yardboat". You can stream it on Spotiy.

https://play.spotify.com/user/1245959359/playlist/2phIwSoa384sfPQFFNk2P7

 You'd be a fool to say these guys don't have some magic. The potential for them to make a super tripped out hit is very high in my opinion. It would be cool if Eric Clapton did a guitar solo on their next album. Hints of Creme springs to mind and those dudes are legends. Their album "Yardboat" is very nice to listen to the production is intense. I'd love to know who recorded it. All and all a great new band. The riffing on the intro of "Country Moon" is sublime.  

Leighton Keutenius

NZ Premier: Lana Del Rey - Tropico (Short Film) - It's Better than Wizard of Oz (the Original)!!!

Three music videos in one from the hipster-star Lana Del Ray. It's a modern epic with; colours that are everescent and fantastical.The co-star is an albino. Snakes are licking her face. She wears flowers and roses that are blood red. Smoking joints. Pale skin sunburnt, freckles. Spoken-word. Ancient Greek themes. Rivers and breathing. Beautiful bodies. Pure art. Elvis, Marilyn, Cowboys. Souls and Bodies. poems. Crickets,skeletons, Big Choruses, Angels, Garden of Evil, Sunshine, Liquor, hands on waist, Don't get along with God. No ones gonna take my soul away. Heaven on Earth. Flashing lights. Red Bikinis. Gold diamonds. Virgin Mary. Shitty food, medicine I need, straight to the heart please, guns, bubbles fucked up holiday, crosses, etc

Thats only 12 minutes in it gets even more crazy!!! pure-carnivalesque beauty!! Haven't seen something this dope since Wizard of OZ (the original)!!!! :)