*good morning kerouac

A little first thought best though piece that I thought I'd share. I wrote it on the morning of August 11th and (to keep with the Kerouac ideal,) haven't changed anything, with the exceptions of spelling and occasional capitalization. I hope you enjoy.


Good Morning Kerouac

Nong Khai Stations's
computer is down

I'm across the street
waiting
"about an hour"
to buy a ticket

Sleep's been scarce
the last few days
and I've lost track of
my winds

but I've got one now
whatever number it is

I drink a cup of coffee
and don't feel different
which is fine

I'm also waiting for the rain
to slow
to a reasonable flow

so I can make
my way across
this 4 lane road
with parking areas
on either side
back to the station

When I'm three quarters
asleep on buses
I find that I can
sometimes hear voices in my head
and listen to them
and be amazed
that I don't know where
the content is coming from

and sometimes
I can see images
and be delighted
by how wonderfully strange
they are
and wonder how I can
watch images in my
own head
as an outsider
completely innocent as to their
composition

I begin reading Ginsberg's
introduction to Kerouac's Poems
All Sizes
but abandon it
pages in
and forward to the poetry

The first poem was written on a bus
hmmm

The second about
hitchhiking
which yesterday
was becoming an option
as I realized that overlooking pre-
long weekend commuters
could hinder the bus
situation
and I
needed to be
somewhere

The Third
about Neal Cassady
appearing in court

He offers advice to Neal

"So have another beer"

some advice never goes
out of style

So I was going to wait
till I crossed the boarder
into Lao

but
good morning Kerouac

*t-shirt ideology

This is my final edit, but it will likely change slightly as i memorize it.


T-shirt Ideology

In the summer
between grades 7 and 8
I bought a Rage Against the Machine t-shirt
from a Music World
in a half built mall
in Calgary

It had a picture of Che Guevara
who I, at the time
thought was the singer of
Rage Against the Machine

It instantly became my favorite shirt
I wore it at least 4 days a week
and managed to find out
who Che Guevara actually was
with minimal embarrassment

I bought Che’s Guerilla Warfare
and Socialism and the Man in Cuba
and became convinced
that a socialist revolution
was exactly what Kelowna needed
and I began my feat of attempting
to win the hearts and minds
of the locals

I began hating George Bush religiously
and maybe, it had to do with
my left-winged role models influencing me
but the more I read
the more I became disgusted
with Republican policy

I printed One Term President shirts
before the 2004 presidential elections
which I then began to wear
at least 4 days a week
and petitioned the right-wingers
at my church
attempting to convert them
to my side of the political spectrum
(to say the least
my success was limited)

I could attribute
my escape from
evangelical mentality
to my hatred for
the Bush Doctrine
and right wing policy
and (eventually) that lead me
to my exodus from the
social and political conformity
and religiosity
that some tried to sell as the only
true interpretation of Christianity

When I went to university
I had a political science professor
who introduced me to
post-modernity
and I abandoned
my Marxist theory
and the overstatements
that are carried by ideas
grounded in modern ideology

I idealized the EZLN.
as they were the first
post-modern revolutionary group,
and Subcommendante Marcos
(but only as the idea of
Subcommendante Marcos
because I didn’t want to
be contributing to the
Marcos personality cult
that the EZLN has
attempted to avoid)

The insanity of modern ideology
and neo-liberal economy
took its toll on me
and the bottle
found a place in my life
more prominently
to escape the reality
of a world going insane
with rationality

While the idea eventually,
but somehow suddenly,
became daunting
that I may just be
a product of my t-shirt,
and not actually
a revolutionary

Because in actuality
how is poisoning myself nightly
sticking it to the hard-right?

Will bottles that tower beside my bed
every morning
(that I, of course, recycle)
change the minds
of the half of my continent
who hold, and act on
a completely opposite
idea of of right and wrong
than what I’ve come to?

But this morning
I had what I hope I can call
a moment of clarity
everything was tear inducing beautiful
yet simultaneously
vomit inducing disgusting

and in this shimmering disgust
I woke up with a stomach
like a jar of pickles
and skateboarded in the wind
to closed buildings
and put up one poster
and felt thankful to be lost
in the (sometimes-catastrophic) mystery
of Earth and humanity
and under-slept clarity

Because my leftist ideology
or spirituality
will never be quantitatively
proved to me
and maybe, solitude
is what’s in the cards
and being happy with
being disconnected from
the culture surrounding me
wherever my feet are planted

But I’ve been getting better
at walking away
and calling it progress
as I walk a little to the left
of where my compass points

*der

*uhscott

I've been doing some lyric essays for my creative writing classes in uni over the last few years. I haven't really done anything with them since, and don't have any solid plans to at the moment, so i thought i might as well post some of them on here. here is a piece about names. (I haven't edited it since i handed it in)


***


Uhscott

In Jakarta a girl asked me my name. I replied “uh’scott.” She reiterated it back to me to be sure she’d heard correct “Uhscott?”

Having to take a moment to think of an answer, when the question was my name only further confirmed to me how distant myself and my nameare. This realization isn’t a new. For about as long as I can remember a part of my mind wanders in search of a name that I find fitting for myself. So far, no luck.


Elliott Smith was born Steven Paul Smith. He began calling himself Elliott because he felt that Steve was a “jock name”, and that Steven was too “bookish.” His girlfriend at the time had an ex named Elliott. There’s a street named Elliot (note the single ‘t’) in Portland Oregon where he lived at the time.


I was born Scott Edward Gibson. I was never taught how to spell my middle name, and I spelled it “Edword” until my friend corrected me in grade eight or nine.

Scott means one who is Scottish. I’m not Scottish. Three out of my four great grandparents were born in Canada, and as far as I know my European heritage is mainly English and Irish. We aren’t in contact with any European relatives that I know of. My parents just chose the name because they liked it. I’ve met other Scott’s who aren’t Scots and the name seems to work for some of them.

While searching for deeper meaning behind my name I read that some people suspect that English called the Scot’s Scot’s because of their tattoos, and that the word Scot may have meant tattoo. So when I make my parents proud with a new tattoo, I remind them that it is essentially because they didn’t put enough thought into naming me.

Somewhere along the line I removed the capitals from my name. I forget why, it was probably inspired by the linear notes in a punk CD, maybe the Ataris.


GG Allin was born Jesus Christ Allin because his dad believed that he would be a great prophet. The name GG evolved from his brother Merle’s inability to pronounce GG’s birth-name when he was a toddler.


I’ve never understood common-names. If someone has a child who they think is special and completely unique. why would parents name their child something so common that the name may not even be unique within their child’s kindergarten class?

I think if I had a daughter a would name her Astoria (it could be abbreviated to Tori) after the town in Oregon where the Goonies takes place. There would be no other Astoria in her class (touch wood).

A friend of our family named his first daughter Iclyn. I think it’s a gorgeous name. That same friend of our family named his first son Xanthan (pronounced Zanthan). I think it’s a stupid name.


While washing dishes in Tofino Weez asked me when I’m going to change my name to something that fits with my personality and lifestyle. On that shift the conclusion was reached that my name should be Star Dinosaurbones. If he reads something of mine and doesn’t feel that I’m being true to myself he’ll tell me that it isn’t Star Dinosaurbones


Sufjan Stevens claim that his name reflects his cultish upbringing. He doesn’t use the word cultish with negative connotations.


I’ve always wondered why some married couples have different last names. I figure if you choose to spend your life with one person you would rather share a name with them than with your parents.

I do understand the equality element. But there are other options. For example, choose a name that describes you as a couple and both take it. Instead of being described as the sons of an Man named Gib whom we’ve never met, not shall we ever meet, we could be referred to as “the Awesomes”

Or both partners could hold both their own surnames, their own surname and the surname of their partner. And in holding both surnames they would be holding the histories attached to each surname. I suppose this could get out of hand if the couple’s children were to do the same with their partners.

I would be uncomfortable taking my wife’s last name, mainly because I know it would require an explanation almost daily. But I suppose there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for the right person.


The Ramones required and “ee” sound to be at the end of a member’s name. The classic line up is Joey, Johnny, Dee Dee and Tommy. I felt C.J. Ramone was a bit of a stretch. Elvis Ramone completely broke form, but he was just a fill in for two shows.


My friends don’t generally seem to feel that “Scott” is an adequate pronoun for the person that I essentially am. Usually I’m referred to as Scott-Gibson, if not to my face, at least when I’m mentioned in stories.


A partial list of my names:

Scott
Gibson
Scott Gibson
Scott Edward Gibson
Scott Edword Gibson (no longer in use)
scott gibson
scott fucking gibson
scott fuckin’ gibson
crush
scotty
scotty g
Scotch (by my god-daughter Kennedy, who can’t pronounce my name properly... It’s kind of awesome)
star dinosaurbones


Tim Commerford from Rage Against the Machine is listed under a different variation of his name in the liner notes of every Rage Against the Machine album. These names include Timmy C., Y. tim K., Simmering T, Tim Bob, and tim.com.


When I worked at Greenbay we had to choose camp names. It was the summer of 2003 and I ended up with the name Crush, alluding to the turtle in the Pixar blockbuster Finding Nemo. It worked well enough for the time I was there. There are still people who only know me as Crush.

A friend from camp whent under the alias of Switch. We still usually refer to each other by our camp names. When we’re in public it sometimes reaches my attention that we sound like we think we’re super-rad and therefore gave ourselves nicknames that we think are super-rad. We do a poetry collaboration occasionally and have titled it I Have a Crush on Switch.


When I sent a friend request to Elizabeth Bachinsky on Facebook I pondered how to sign my name. I went with no capitals hoping that it would portray me as artistic.

At the same table in Jakarta, where I introduced myself as “Uhscott” I was taking with another Indonesian, a boy. He had an Indonesian name, I don’t remember it, but I will never forget the name that he initially introduced himself to me with: Rocky Montana. When asked about the origin's of his chosen name he talked about the rocks in the bottom of the oceans, and the mountains of Montana that he had seen in pictures. His name told of the interconnectedness that he felt to the Earth, to it’s highest and lowest points.

I didn’t leave Jakarta with any more name than I had when I came with. But I left with a good example of a person who has a name.

*pop punx character sketches

a couple posts ago i mentioned a possible comic-book adaptation of a play i wrote a few years ago. the artist Jerrid Peterson sent me some character sketches. you can check them out through the link below and see what you think.

here are the character sketchers
http://i105.photobucket.com/albums/m209/Jerridiot/punk.jpg?t=1231090231

and here is Jerrid's deviant art page
http://jerridiot.deviantart.com/

*pop punx

In first year I wrote this as a screenplay. A few months ago a friend of mine said that he would be interested in potentially making it into a comic book. I hope it happens because that would be awesome. Anyway, I haven't made any changes to this since first year, but I thought that some of you may enjoy reading it.

*scott

***

Pop Punx

Chris (typing): …wtf is wrong with u u guys r fags u dont even no wat emo or screamo is seriously ur soo dum.
Mark (enters): Dude, Dude guess what!
Chris (about to open mouth)
Mark: Simple Plan is coming to Vancouver, next Wednesday.
Chris: Dude, you know that our parents would never drive us down there. It’s a school night.
Mark: but man this is Simple freaking Plan. Seeing them is the only think in the world that I’ve ever wanted. That, and a date with Avril Lavigne, the punk rock princess of my dreams. But this isn’t about Avril Lavigne...
Chris: This isn’t even about Lorelei Gilmore.
Mark: dude that’s gross, she’s like 40. Her daughter is too old for you. And even if you were her age she wouldn’t go for you. Anyway that’s not what this is about. This is about…
(Both look at camera both raise a fist and say…)
Mark and Chris: SIMPLE PLAN!
(End Scene)

(Mark and Chris throw open a door and run in)
Mark: Jarard Jarard, dude…
Chris: dude, what the hell? Are you wearing girl’s pants? What the hell is wrong with you?
Jarard: Hey…whatever…shut up, all the guys in MCR (My Chemical Romance) do.
Chris: yeah, but the guys in MCR are cool, and I don’t think that they stole their girl-pants from their older sister.
Mark: Anyway dude! Were going to see Simple Plan in Vancouver! Next Wednesday!
Jarard: Man, I don’t listen to that stuff.
Mark: Since when?
Jarard: I’m Screamo now.
Mark: What the hell is screamo?
Jarard: It means I listen to scream music, heavy stuff, like MCR and stuff.
Chris: Is it screamo to dye your hair black and put a gay blond chunk in it like yours. You don’t even know what screamo…
Mark: Shut up you guys! Who cares what screamo is right now! We have a chance to see the band that has got us though all the tough times we’ve been through. Like when all the jocks made fun of us…well they didn’t like all make fun of us but like a few of them say “punk is bunk” sometimes, and one of them pushed Chris….
Chris: It was really more of a nudge.
Mark: That’s not the point. When girls wouldn’t go out with us, or when Avril wouldn’t return my calls, emails, faxes and letters, or when my parents made me clean my room Simple Plan was there to help me through those times. When I thought that no one else in the world was dealing with these things I could listen to Piers amazing lyrics and I realized that I wasn’t alone. So guys we’ve got a chance to see Simple Plan, but it will ironically require a very complicated plan to get there.

Chris: Are you sure that that’s irony?

Mark: I’m pretty sure it is. Do you have a better definition of irony? …Didn’t think so. But that’s not what matters right now, what matters is… who’s in?
(Mark and Jarard nod their head slowly with a look of understanding on their faces)
(End Scene)

(Mark, Chris, and Jarard in a basement talking)
Jarard: or maybe… we could…um… we could rent a car and…
Chris: Are you retarded? Do you think anyone is going to rent a car to a group of grade niners? And even if they did none of us can drive, and I’m sure that the car company would want some kind of credit card number or a ridonculous deposit or something.
Mark: How about we take the bus, or a plane.
Chris: Because that would take us to a bus station or an airport, and how would we get from there to the punk-gig.
Jarard: Dude, punk-gig is such a lame word.
Chris: What the hell do you call them?
Jarard: Concerts.
Mark: I usually say show.
Chris: But then half the time people think you’re talking about like movies or TV or something like that.
Mark: The Ataris call them shows, like in that song “Are We There Yet” you know “I just want to make it to the show, but I don’t think that…” you know. Anyway regardless of what we call seeing Simple Plan., how do we get there?
Chris: Why don’t you ask Josh to drive us?
Mark: Like Josh my brother?
Chris: No, Josh your… um…freaking whatever I can’t think of something clever to say. Yes Josh your brother.
Mark: Because he doesn’t have a car for one, he’s in school, and he doesn’t even like Simple Plan… he says they’re not real punk.
Jarard: They’re so punk.
Mark: I know.
Chris: Wouldn’t Josh be aloud to drive your parents mini-van.
Mark: Yeah, but if we took my parents van how would we be able to go without them knowing?
Chris: you said you wanted a complicated plan, well you got one!
Mark: (pauses) Well, it’s the best idea so far, let’s give it a go.
(End scene)

(Mark knocks on Josh’s door and lets himself in. His friends follow)
Mark: Hey Josh
Josh: What do you want now?
Mark: What makes you think I’m asking for something?
Josh: Am I wrong?
Mark: …no, Can you drive us to Simple Plan next Wednesday.
Josh: It’s a school night mom would never let me drive you.
Mark: But she’d let you go and we could make an elaborate like about where we are and go with you.
Josh: But why would I go in the first place? If I’m going to drive that far them I’d want to see a real punk band.
Mark: Shut the… I mean please man, we’ll do anything.
Josh: well you’re 13.
Mark: (cuts off Josh) 14!
Jarard: I’m 13
Chris: Shut up Jarard!
Josh: Anyway you’re “14” and in Jarard’s case “13” so there’s not too much that you can actually do for me!
Mark: Commmmoooonnnn Jossshhhaa, this is Simple Plan; you know how much this means to me.
Josh: Well let’s see the “truffle shuffle” and maybe I’ll consider it and think up some conditions.
Mark: Dude not now, my friends are here.
Josh: The truffle shuffle.
Jarard: What’s the truffle shuffle?
Chris: They made Chunk do it in the movie the Goonies. They made chunk lift up his shirt shake his belly around and make a bunch of weird sounds before they let him into the house. And Josh always makes Mark do it when Mark wants something from him.
(Mark in the background with his stomach exposed shaking around making noises)
Josh: So firstly you need to pay for gas, you need to pay for all of my food, and I’m
talking like steak and lobster. Chris you need to lend me your Gilmore Girls DVDs until I say that I’m done with them….
Chris: What? I don’t watch Gilmore Girls!
Mark and Jarard: Yes you do!
Josh: Since I’d have to miss school for this you guys need to find and buy me the following CDs before we go. Tom Wait’s “Blood Money”, The (International) Noise Conspiracy “Bigger cages, Longer Chains” and I guess… Norma Jean “Bless the Martyr and Kiss the Child”, mine’s scratched and hmm one more no actually two, well I might as well make it three cause there’s three of you that’s two each. Sooo the Bright Eyes/Britt Daniel collaboration CD, the Bright Eyes “Lua” EP and I guess the Chariot “Unsung” EP will be out before the show so yeah, that.
Jarard: Where are we going to get the money to pay for those?

Josh: You guys are upper middle class kids who live in the suburbs, your parents give you more then enough money.

Jarard: Good point

Mark: So were good to go?
Josh: Not yet. You need to make my bed for like three months.
Mark: Dude you never make your bed, mom doesn’t even make us make our beds.
Josh: do you want to go or not?
Mark: Fine
Josh: Okay, You guys have to make up your own lie and take any blame if you get caught.
Mark: Okay, so we’ll skip school that day and you can pick us up from somewhere. We can’t leave from the house.
Josh: Okay, you guys can work your own junk out.
(End scene)

(Josh pulls his van up to the back gate of the school. The boys are dressed in “gangster” style clothes complete with gold chains and Jarard has a clock around his neck. The boys are hiding in the bushes. They quickly get into the van)

Josh: What are you guys supposed to be dressed as? Mark are you wearing Fubu? You look ridiculous. Are you going to see Fiddy Cent now instead?

Mark: Were in disguise Josh. Like, what if one of our parents friends drives by and sees us and tells our parents.

Josh: I donno man. I think they’re a lot more likely to mention it if they see you decked out and gold chains with clocks around your necks.

Christ: Jarard is the only one with a clock around his neck…. We couldn’t talk him out of it.

Josh: Where did you even get these clothes?

Mark: Mom gives us a clothing allowance, remember?

Josh: So you spent it all on Fubu and Phat Farm clothes and in Jarards cause a clock necklace so you could be disguised for like ten minutes?… You should have just told me that you were this pathetic and I would have felt sorry enough for you to drive you bribe free. So what did you guys tell your parents anyway?

Mark: We made out fake permission slips saying that our French class was doing an overnight field trip to the B.C. Royal Museum, and…

(Gets cut off by Chris)

Chris: And we even got our parents to pay fifty bucks for the trip. That is except for Jarard, who told his parents that the school would accept personal checks.

Josh: Fake permission slips eh, that’s risky, but on the other hand very stealth. Has your school done parent teacher interviews yet?

Mark: Yeah, they do them really early in the year now.

Josh: Then you’re probably safe, but interviews would have been trouble.

(End Scene)

(They are pulled over, Mark is peeing and the side of the road. Chris hits Marks arm with a rock.)

Mark: What the hell dude?! I got piss all over my hand now!

(Everyone else is laughing)

Jarard: Well, sucks to be you.

Mark: Sucks to be you guys, who are sitting with me in the van. How do you like them apples?!

Josh: Mark there is no way you’re cool enough to be saying “How do you like them apples” especially when your threatening to touch someone with you piss hand. Just get in the van.

(End scene)

(Drive into Vancouver, joining the slow moving traffic)

Mark: We’re almost here! I’m so stoked!

Chris: I am too…. I think Jarard might be a little too stoked

Mark: Yeah man seriously, you need to switch back to guys pants. Those girl-pants don’t hide anything.

(Traffic stops completely. Chris looks at his watch)

Chris: Were never going to get there in time if traffic is going this freaking slow.

Jarard: We should just get out and run

Mark: Good call dude.

Chris: Yeah man, let’s do it up.

Jarard: For serious? We’re going to do what I suggested?

Chris: Jarard just shut up and let’s go.

Josh: Wait! How the hell am I supposed to find you after the show?

Mark: Just look for us, we’ll try and be around the front. And we’ll look for you too.

Josh: This concert is going to be freaking huge, that’s going to take forever. Aw, screw it. Just go. We’ll never make a descent plan. Have fun… (Yells) You guys so owe me for this! (As they begin to run)

(End scene)

(They run up to the ticket booth)

All: We need 3 tickets for Simple Plan!

Booth Operator: I’m sorry, but I just sold the last three tickets.

Jarard: Dammit! This only happens on movies!

Mark: Dude, well, umm, if this is like a movie then let’s try and get in like they do on movies.

Chris: Mark that is a retarded idea!

Mark: My retarded ideas have got us this far. You guys should start to respect my retarded ideas!

Chris: ….okay, so what do we do?

(Pause)

(Next two lines blurted out at the same time)

Mark and Chris: dress as security guards

Jarard: hide in a laundry basket

Chris: Jarard, who is going to have laundry baskets coming in and out of a punk rawk concert… especially ones that are big enough for us to fit in?

Mark: And besides, it’s two against one.

Jarard: Okay… Then I guess we need to go get some security uniforms.

(End scene)

(The boys are looking at a group of security guards)

Jarard: Man these guys are way, way, too tough for us to mug.

Chris: Jarard’s right… and twice in one day. New record. So what do we do?

Mark: Let’s make them ourselves… I have a black marker. We can draw facial hair on and stuff too.

Chris: looks like it’s the best we’ve got.

Jarard: Dude! Can one of you draw me a handle bar mustache?

(The Simple Plan bus drives into the parking lot. A camera shows the band inside the bus, looking out the window.)

Pier (singer from simple plan) (to his band mates): Hey look at those kids!

(Camera shows Jarard with a “handle bar mustache”, Mark writing “securtety” on his shirt in marker and Chris reaching for the pen.) They’re pathetic as hell, trying to get into a show by drawing on fake mustaches and stuff. They must really want this… When I see kids that lame I totally feel sorry for them. (Rolls down window and sticks head out) Hey… Umm marker kids… Come over here. You’re coming in with us!

(Camera goes to the boys faces and shows tears forming in their eyes)

(End)

*dead seagull press (and so it begins)

Hey, there isn't much on it yet, but here there will be eventually, so you may want to commence "following."

http://deadseagullpress.blogspot.com/

*scott

*my poems from the ubco creative writing anthology

CRWR 126 Alumni (OUC equivalent: ENGL 126)

Who would have guessed
that 4 years later
we would be the only ones
still sitting in this bar
(I used to call it my bar,
but I can’t name every bartender anymore)

I think that one night we had ten poets
around one table
competing in wing consumption
smoking cigarettes (because it was still legal)
or telling stories of abandoning
the nicotine vice
all drinking $10 pitchers of Winchester
or the house red (and stealing the vessel)
in practice of the perfect Wednesday

Poetry was something new
to me,
at least in the way I interacted with it
I felt like everyone around me
was the next Charles Bukowski or
e.e. cummings
and in this dingy bar
there was a place
for all of our first-year-brilliance

But if we were to try
to take the group picture,
that we never took then, now
most people would be unavailable
in fact it would be just us
in a bar that neither of us frequent
where the cheap pitchers on Wednesday
are Blue instead of Winchester



The Banana Pancake Trail (Plus Java)

When someone tells me their travel plans
I tell them to make sure to take time
to walk the road alone

It’s not what I planned to do
even though my flight from Vancouver to Hong Kong
was on a plane filled with strangers

In Hong Kong my friend met me
as soon as I’d passed security, he was expecting me
while he explored the city alone for 3 days

Once we were together we ran across the airport
to catch a plane to Bangkok
were we’d find seven more of my friends

To make things happen in groups of more than two
can be like pulling teeth
and even pairs have their limitations

Alone means the itinerary is yours alone
and the only baggage you carry
is the baggage you bring

But it means that no one will carry that baggage with you
if you stumble or start to burn out
and if you can’t carry it on your back, leave it

When someone tells me their travel plans
I tell them to make sure to take time
to walk the road alone

Because in walking the road alone
I learned everything that I need to know
about leaving

*I washed my hair for the first time in almost three and a half years

So, you may have read on the Myface or the Spacebook, or whatever us kids are using these days that I washed my hair. It's true, for the first time since November of first year (I think that's 2005).

Why, you ask?
No real reason... mostly an impulsive decision that I made in class today.

What does dirt from 6 different countries that has been stored in dreads for over 3 years look like on the floor of a shower?
Kind of like coffee with cream... maybe a double double.

I guess that's it for now.

love

*findings

*lucky haiku

lucky haiku

unlucky in love
as they say, lucky in cards
fifteen, hit me... fuck