The Hills have Eyes

I've
http://www.eyesonthehills.com/

I’ve been watching trailers for this film for the past two days and I just can’t describe how completly stupid this film looks. Although, it’s a remake of the ’77 Wes Craven film which was also not so good but for god’s sake. There are very few things more retarded than radiation growth movies as a plot generating topic. However, this film has decided to bash New Mexico as well.

To that I can only say, that maybe New Mexico (with the exception of Santa Fe) may be spared from colonization from the new American urbanism for another 15 seconds.

On a more humorous note, my weekend was spent working a movie that was filmed in my house. It was fun and the people were very respectful, as well as attractive.

Also, there was no ricin in Moore-Hill and we are still safe…for now. Scare-mongers!!!

blogger jacking

To the untrained eye, it may have just appeared taht my blog was going its normal unfarrowed way, however for the past week - I've been locked out.

Finally back online, I will relish my freedom of speach more heartily.

Song of 27

Though I may be miles away from her,
with years that pass without a word,
I’ve never seen a moon so high,
her name hangs down from there tonight.

So put your little hand away.
I’ve seen such needy days before.
On nights light this, my hope returns,
though I may be miles away from her.

A locket just for good luck
& a pocket knife for long night,
& a sleepy little dreamer,
with still miles to go.

27 take me home,
& pore that last year down my throat.
The days will fade and the nights will burn,
though I may be miles away from her.

I see her in the doorway,
staring a hole right though it all,
the first of many fits, and the last one was
man, the last one was.

So check your lock and close your eyes.
When you wake up I’ll be alright.
Never tell them where it hurts
& keep you bullet safe inside.

The wind has wept and the sky has slurred
& we slept through the sunrise too
& I’m dreaming still, of who we were.
Though, I may be miles away from her.

Mexico Pre-Valentines Day

Terracing the street, in boxes of transparent cellophane, these temporary pharos strut across my little Mexican plaza. The plastic skins, decorated with hearts, roses and ribbons sugar the gift boxes to "los novios". Each, its own tribute to both its future recipient and the small stuffed object at the core of this shrine: a fuzzy red puppy dog, pink heart or desperate teddy bear.

I imagine the little ones ripping into these perfect boxes in search of the love of their fathers and mothers. I imagine the grandparents who give these elaborate bobbles as their own present and those who send them on behalf of parents absent or gone. I imagine the jealousy of those who must watch in want of the box that will never come. I imagine the saving of the young man being doled out in hopes these new feeling of his will be returned. I imagine and I am sad for all of them.