Death is Dead... so to speak.

TO THE OUTSIDE VIEWERS

Death4yes is dead.  Or rather it has successfully achieved nirvana and has headed into the beautiful realm of nothingness. 

But be not dismayed, as in it's place two new experiences have risen from the emptiness of necrospace and they are;

Camp Adventurous!!!!!
Not really a camp! Always Adventurous!

Camp Adventurous follows the ongoing quest for ultimate manhood.

http://campadventurous.blogspot.com

Camp Adventurous follows the ongoing quest for ultimate manhood

and also;

The Burden of Brad

Of his Burdens and Burdenings (Coming soon!)

Which follows the perceptions and hindering experiences of Brad.

Both should supply you with ultimate satisfaction.  You may as well just quite your job and leave your family now. They cannot give you the happiness that we can. 

In mourning of Death4Yes I present the following picture with my goodbyes. 

With deepest love-ish

SB

The Revolution of Creativity

CL

I am trying my best to fulfill my promise of daily poetry, but I find it difficult, as humanity is so distracting.  How am I to find creativity inside of my blood if I have to deal with absurd things such as rent, healthcare, and other people in general.

Because of this I have made decisive action to artistically separate myself from society by obscuring my identity.  I have done this with magic.  Magic that is also hair dye.  Which is white. My hair is kind of white.

I say kind of because there is a yellow tint to it, but still, I am no longer the little red head boy who drags people into the abyss.  I am now the little blonde boy who drags people into the abyss.  And for a time this will allow me to be more creative. Or at least that’s what I gather.

Another part of this rebellion was the hilarity of extreme living in the BYU lands.  As you well know I have retreated back to valley lands after a brief repose at my namesake’s household, and I have found the new land to be quite satisfying for Provo.

First I would like to mention my new roommates.  They are named someone and someone else.  I will refer to them thusly because despite living here for almost a week, I have run into someone twice, and someone else only once.  In fact, by my second day in the apartment there were eviction notices for both men and I thought that I would happily have a whole 4-bedroom apartment to do with what ever I wish.  This would mean a lot of meat racks.  In every room.  So much meat. And yet, my dreams will have to wait, they reside there still.

I will try to update you on the mystery of someone and someone else, but it isn’t very likely.  Someone else seems to never be home and someone is quite the recluse and stays in his room nearly as much as I do!  It doesn’t help that I have no intention what so ever of making friends with them because I’m trying to be moodier, especially now that my hair is all whitey-like.

As a slight adjustment to the poem deal, I’ve decided to leave you with a lyric I’ve penned.  As you know, this is a major part of my career so I take great pride in this.

Beauty Is, Am I

I am something so unique
I am knowing best of speak
I crawl better under space
I am feeling no embrace
I fall gently in-between
I cut holes in movie screen
But always, yes
You must see
That I am yes
In over we!

CHORUS
You can’t be
More Beautiful than me
I am better always
And am free
So kiss my toes
And all my feet
And breathe the air
I expel and be
Beneath and in worship
Of all that is me

Ahhh Ahhh ah ah

you know nothing, you feel sick
I love making good Nesquick
I am more than centipede
I am beauty more than bleed
Sing no noisy in backyard
You must wear my Leotard

Churus
Chorus
~Fin~

I know what you are thinking.  BRILLIANCE!  Just wait till you hear it recorded and repeatedly covered by every band that has ever been on the charts.

Look Lively

S. Bat

The beginning of REBEGINNING!

Oh most eloquent of Lizards

I am totes the suck!  My rate of correspondence is vastly inferior to wave of material you have sent my way.  I will take a quick moment to respond.

1. How lucky for you!
2. HOW DARE YOU!
3. I am filled with that wish!
4.what?

ONWARD.

I do not like to dwell on the past mr. L.  I find myself quite busy just trying to keep up with the present (who has yet to present me with any presents at all), and equally so the ~future~. Which I won't spoil for you because I can keep a secret, and yours is actually really terrifying.

Have you ever wondered where the Polish came from?  I have not!

As you know, I have (barely) survived the first half of my two year stint in the Brigham Young hyper bubble.  I accomplished this by rarely straying from the safety of my apartment and filling my head with beautiful images of burning meadows and ash that falls like snow.  It helped me get through some terribly troubling times! Did you know, for example, that Dante's Inferno is a thing!  I was appalled.

Despite the recurring themes of horror, I actually managed to accomplish a few things.

-I instigated project BUTTERFLY where I gained 5 pounds then lost 11, bringing me comfortable back to the severely underweight category of living.

- I tried to cook multiple times but mostly gave up half way through.

-I managed not to commit homicide, or anything of the like.

-I drugged a vampire and made it walk in circles until it threw up blood all over the place.  They are easy to trick, those vampires.

-I made friends with a lizard named Seth Gunnam, but he fell in love with some hussy and ran out on me:(

There are probably more things, but I'm not interested in events... or people... or things.

Anyway to celebrate my temporary release from Prison Naivety I am instigating an event.  A week of poetry by Mr. B!  It will make your heart beat faster with vitality and love!

This gem was born out of my inability to spell daffodil.

Oh Daffidile

Dafydile oh Daffidile
I remember such emotion
That brought me to such ecstasy
Made from your sweet potion
Thy yellow limbs reach out to me
and beg of warm embrace
I sorrow to inform you, though
That's not your proper place
Conspiracy has told me of
You rotten hearted scheme
Deceive the world one by one
And listen to them scream
Such dark desires oh Davidyll
It lowers my esteem
Without that thought
I would have bought
You for my love, Doreen.
Clean up your act! OR ELSE!
~fin~

I know what you're thinking.  "It's metaphorical" well you are wrong.  Daffodils are intentionally trying to destroy the world. Why, I'm not sure... They need it just as much as we do.



ENOUGH
I have finished today, but you will hear from me again tomorrow CL.  You will hear a texty earful.

With the least amount of distain one can feel towards their worst enemy,

SB

P.S. no comics today, my hand hurts from all the massages I've been giving to bears in Thailand. true story.

The Book Club of the Apocalypse

Dear Silver Bat (and friends, all),

As this is the last year of our existence (not even a full year. Time's a ticking!), I think it's best that we become as cultured as possible so that, when that eventful day is upon us, we can take it in stride rather than poop ourselves (oh, I mean, "defecate") with fear. That said, isn't it about time that we created a common connection betwixt our two worlds (friends, all included) with a book club to end all book clubs? I believe yes. And so you believe yes.
But what book could be the opener to this club? What great work of literary might could possibly be worthy of the BCA (Book Club of the Apocalypse, duh)? I submit the following, along with my review, as our first work:

I DO NOT GET IT!

And so it begins,

CL

The Future...OF OUR FUTURE!

Bat of Silver,

So here's an article I wrote that they'll never publish.

In regards to the article,"USU club swim team powered by passion," I would like to point out a troubling fact. The future is upon us. What John Henry learned by having his heart explode, we can learn less painfully. That is, the age of men (and ladyfolk) powered by passion is over. It's time to make the upgrade to steam power.
BYU and U of U have already made the switch, and their swimmers are annihilating everyone who dares oppose them. It helps that they are swimming in an endless fuel source (because water becomes steam when you heat it, according to Wikipedia and also common sense and also my mom, who is always right).

This...is the future.

What USU doesn't yet realize is that the true power of mankind (or ladyfolkkind) rests in its ability to innovate, thus overcoming its own weakness and prolonging its mortality a day or so more until the inevitable occurs and we die, miserable, sad, and alone.

But, on that note, look how unmiserable, unsad, and unalone we would all be with our Steampunk friends!

Lung Cancer? Not possible if you're smoking steam!

We will never outswim a dolphin with passion alone, but with steam-powered jets and a well-placed harpoon, we have a chance. The same goes for these other swim teams. Folks, I am not a fit man. But even I, steampunked out with turbines and a monocle (because they all wear monocles, look it up), could destroy Michael Phelps in a 50 meter butterfly sprint.

These things burn your ears like crazy, but it's worth it because they are the most pimp.

The point I'm getting at here is that the days of the strong heart and will to win are over. It's time we start looking to the future of swimming and of civilization. Steam power is that future.

The Beginnings of a Wonderful War

Dear Silver Bat,

Here's an editorial response that I wrote and that the University almost published. I quote, "We'll publish it if nothing else comes in." Enjoy.

In regards to the article "Biggest Loser returns to campus," I would like to state that the rumors are false and that my former roommate, Brad, has not in fact returned. Call it misinformation or wayward gossip, but he remains at BYU, seeking out his dreams of becoming the biggest loser of all time.
It is understandable that you may think you recognized him on campus as there is another anemic ginger who can be seen prowling about campus, searching for unwilling victims to tell all about his blossoming career in the music industry. But this boy is in no way comparable to my former roommate, whose very presence sucks the coolness out of a room. 

"I wish I wasn't such a loser...BUT I AM!"

The once and future king of lame was in town several weeks ago, which explains the recent lack of extreme motocross and heavy metal around town. But the lasting malaise of his visit should not be misconstrued as his presence when it is only the lingering echoes of a wasted life.
If he does return for an extended period, there will be a flash of puce light on the southern horizon and the sound of New Wave music rising up over the homes of Logan's people. You will know when the biggest loser has returned by the sudden smell of sadness and bad eggs in the air and a twinge in your left thigh that will make you remember your worst birthday party (the one where Jenny blew out your candles and Artie pushed you off the trampoline).

"Maybe if I artsy up my photo, friends will follow!"

(They will not)

As for now, and the foreseeable future, there is no looming threat. Rest easy, citizens of Logan. I will let you know the information as it comes in.  

Any sightings should be e-mailed directly to me under the subject heading: "DOOD!!!1! Chump alert!!"

Thank you for your cooperation.

That face can mean only one thing: He has realized that he will be forever alone and is about to burst into tears.

In conclusion, you are a loser. Your move.

Sincerely and with love,

CL

Edgar: An Intimate Poe'trait

Dearest Silver Bat,

This is a true story.

I was in a restaurant down in Park City on Saturday with some pals. We were eating (What?! I KNOW!) and conversing (NOT POSSIBLE! I THOUGHT SO TOO!!!!!!) over a hot meal when suddenly, all of a sudden, all sudden like, in struts that celeb of all celebs. Luckily for you, I snapped a Poe-to (that's a photo of Poe, ingrate)!

As you know, his new film, "Cats and Dogs: A Love Story," is showing down at Sundance this year and--wait, you thought he was dead? Ha! Silly, silly bat.  No, E.A. Poe lives eternally off the tears of kittens and the lethargy of frat boys (literally, one hour spent playing Call of Duty 5: Wombat Rising equals thirty minutes of extra life for Mr. Poe).

Moving on, I went over to say hello and we had ourselves a civilized conversation. It went as follows:

POE: Ah, yes. Refill my water, Waiter-Bot.

ME: Right away, sir!

Eventually, after I brought him his food and suggested the Molten Mudslide for dessert (it's a volcano in your mouth!), I explained to him that I was not in fact a server at that establishment but an avid fan of his work. With a grin that would warm the hearts of a thousand white supremacists, he raised his glass to me and said, "The check, please."

I returned to his table, check in hand, to find that he had disappeared (like a Will-o-the-Wisp!) into the thinnest of air (we were pretty high up on the mountain). But he had left behind a napkin, upon which he had written this Poe-m:

The food was awful,
The service, worse.
You should probably fire that shifty-eyed kid.
Seriously.


Bat, we hit it off, Eddie and I. I'm not afraid to say that he's probably my new best friend.

Sincerely,

CL