#Monday Morning Commute
Goodness, gracious, I haven’t penned an MMC since fucking June?
This summer: it was all a blur (and then it was nothing).
Goodness, gracious, I haven’t penned anything in here since September?
This past month: it was all a blur (and then it was nothing).
Goodness, gracious, I haven’t taken a breath since the pandemic ended?
This pandemic: it was all a blur (and then it was nothing).
Over the weekend I had a dream that I was on campus, dying of COVID. In case you’re wondering how I’m doing. Over the past few weeks I swear the right side of my beard has gone entirely gray. In case you’re wondering how I’m doing. I feel like a husk, hollowed out, but excited to be back on campus. It’s a weird time, a ghost town, a mournful tribune to what we’ve lost, while appreciating we’re back on campus.
It’s a weird time.
Furthermore, I don’t really know the state of OL anymore. No one really reads blogs anymore, Discord has siphoned all of our conversation, and any meaningful connections with communities across the internet have seemingly moved to Substack.
So why the fuck am I here? Honestly? I’m not sure. If nothing else, I figure writing MMC every week could serve as an enjoyable fossil record for my interests at any given point in time. You can cut the rings in my soul, and chronicle what was on my mind. As well, I miss writing and this place is my only outlet.
This is Monday Morning Commute.
It’s okay to be excited, my friends! I know we live in a callous world, with Billionaires Bouncing Around The Atmosphere while people starve, as the world burns. I know we live in a callous world, with Talking Heads Politicizing A Lifesaving Vaccine. But the majority of us sentient sacks of star dust are just trying to get by. Make a little love, eat a little food, share in some authentic and fulfilling moments.
It’s easy to get bogged down in the muck, the miasma, and the misery. Lord knows, we all eat enough nut shots on a micro and macro level on a day-to-day and week-to-week basis But fuck! Push back! Fight back! Salvage the simplistic moments and appreciate the good.
It’s easier said than done, sure. I’m guilty as fuck of succumbing to the Daunting Nature of It All. One of my superpowers is really just fretting about the past, the present, and the ever arriving future. At the same time though, I try to appreciate the small glimpses into peace and tranquility.
Some weeks it’s fucking hard!
Not this week though, nope! Motherfuckers this week I’m finally done with remote learning. Finally, finally, finally. After seventeen months and four-and-a-half semesters. What a miserable, enlightening, challenging, occasionally rewarding, and emotionally eviscerating experience. I’m not sure I got much from it, I’m not sure I could do it again, but after this week I won’t be asked to for the time being.
Let’s hang the fuck out, friends. Hang the fuck out, and dare I say, be excited about shit! This is Monday Morning Commute!
What’s up, my dudes? I know I’m tardy again with this column, but fucking take what you get! Are you the one writing it? Are you the one staring blankly at the screen contemplating time, space, societal collapse, and booty? No! So, judge not. Or fucking judge, who gives a shit. Now we can get into this shit with my defensive posturing out of the way!
It’s hot as balls this week, and I’m both physically sweating due to the weather and existentially sweating due to my summer class starting next week. I fucking simply ain’t sweating teaching remotely once again, but I take solace in knowing it’s the final semester of it for me.
But I ain’t completely adrift in the muck-riddled malaise! Nah! Nope! I’m currently anticipating, enjoying, and furiously masturbating to. Just really cranking on it, dry style, blisters forming, as I foam at the mouth with bug-eyed intensity.
You will get your goddamn Monday Morning Commute when I give it to you, you plebs! Seriously though, I’m sorry. Sorry for lashing out at you. Sorry for being tardy again with the Monday Morning Commute. It’s Wednesday! Hump day! So hopefully your commutes are going well, your weeks are burning away, and your days are littered with promising arts, farts, and existential libations!
As well, if I’m being honest, I’m trying to suss out what these weekly columns mean in the face of a happening Discord channel. Okay, not like happening-happening, but like more, bustling. What is the function of such a column as MMC when we’re all talking continuously? How do I convince people on the Discord to come hang out here, with those who still don’t use it?
I don’t have any of these answers, and I must admit my confusion has led to sort of a malaise regarding it all. Did I punt my blog into obsolescence?
What rounds me back into writing the column here are two factors. First, as a means to engage with those not using Discord (though, please hang out here!), and as well as a time capsule for myself. So in five years when I’m curious as to what I was up to in 2021, what I was enjoying, and what I was thinking about, I can surf the digital universe to a column such as thing. Peek into my psyche, shudder, and carry on with my life.
Enough of that ambling preamble, let’s get into the nitty gritty! The wishy washy! The…I don’t know, some sort of phrase. Here’s what I’m digging this week. Then I hope you’ll both join me in the comments and on our OL Discord.
If John Carpenter ain’t the coolest motherfucker alive, I don’t know who happens to be. Look at that Force of Nature, absolutely cutting a fucking rug. Absolute stable of insane movies directed? Yup. Absolute stable of insane soundtracks and albums recorded? Yup! Dude’s just dominating on all fronts, and all he seems to have to do in his old age is play music with his family and rock video games.
Been listening to his latest album lately, and today’s column title is a reference to its titular track: Alive After Death. Shit dudes, it’s even got a fucking rad music video.
Anyways, the phrase “Alive After Death” resonates with my ass lately. Maybe it resonates as a reference to emerging from a post-pandemic world. Maybe it resonates with my idea that the ideal life is a recursive one, where if we aren’t continuously dying and emerging changed after learning from our mistakes, we’re doing it wrong. Maybe it resonates with the feeling that comes at the end of every semester, born anew after the cataclysm of another school year in the books.
Whatever the case, the phrase is snared in my synapses, and I figured I’d share it with you. Not just the song, but the thoughts behind its resonance, and a little bit of the ole opening up of the soul.
This is Monday Morning Commute. You already know the fucking drill.
As the season turns to Summer, the dusks get more and more glorious. Certainly, they’ll never achieve the neon-glow of a synthwave stroll down a tranquil highway. But we take what we can get in life, and the dusks we are afforded are pretty damn swell. These glorious late Spring dusks are just one of the things I’m enjoying right now, as I begin to kick off a short vacation this Thursday.
It ain’t all sunshine and rainbows for this dude, though. We got ourselves an all-hands-on-deck situation with the unexpected arrival of my Mother-in-Law, which sort of isn’t great on its own, but its doubly not great when Sam had planned to relax this week between jobs. But we take what we can get in life, and I got a lot of other stuff to distract me from this unfortunate turn of events.
So with that in mind, with arts-farts-and-distractions especially important this week, let’s hit the column! Just bang it out. Enthusiastically, but with purpose and poise. This is Monday Morning Commute! Join my thick, hairy ass in the comments section with your own happenings this week!
What a fucking year it’s been, friends. And I know for many, it sure as shit ain’t over yet. But this week marks two weeks since I’ve received my J&J vaccine. Or in other words, this dude is ready to tentatively, and carefully begin to renter society. I mean, to the extent that I ever existed in it, you know? As a hermit and all. How am I celebrating this emergence? Why, I’m celebrating by partaking in two of my favorite things in the world. Hitting the movies on Friday evening and going out to dinner on Saturday afternoon.
What a fucking year it’s been, friends. Yet we’re slowly emerging from the morass, and with it brings a surreal feeling. However, I must underscore how fucking instrumental my digital kinship with ya’ll has been in sustaining some sort of sanity for the past thirteen months. Without these weekly columns, twice-weekly Twitch streams, and now Discord, I would have broken long ago.
If I kick the bucket anytime soon, I’ll lay content in knowing I helped facilitate the creation of some sort of small but meaningful refuge for a few people during this darkest of years. That said, it wouldn’t have been shit without the participation of all of you. So thank you so much for helping a brother out, and if I made you laugh a couple times talking about sniffing panties, boobs, or swearing at Dead Cells, I’m glad.
Anyways, this is Monday Morning Commute! I’ll share my own hopes, dreams, hypes, and vices for the week! Then you’ll hit the comments section and tag-in, it’s your goddamn imperative.
Don’t trust anyone who offers you a crock of gold, folks! It’s a motherfucking Leprechaun Job! What does that mean? Man, I don’t fucking know. Okay? Okay! The shitty, pointless headline pun is simply the result of me watching the first Leprechaun this weekend. Fuck, it’s a goddamn goofy-ass blast. I didn’t realize how silly the movie would be, but I enjoyed it all the more for it. Now I must work my way through the series.
‘Cause do you really think I’m gonna miss out on this little fucker going to space?
Or the hood? Twice?
Anyways, this here is Monday Morning Commute! The weekly column where we share the arts&farts we’re digging into during a given week.
But you know that cause you’re here! And if you’re here, you’re assuredly a stalwart member of the community. You see, we don’t get many new visitors round these parts. To reference the King’s works himself, OL has become a veritable Derry or Salem’s Lot at this point. I don’t mind though!
Not at all, no I don’t. So long as you regulars hang out in the comments section, that is!
What’s up, friends? I must admit I created the column’s title and image above yesterday, when I was feeling decidedly much better. Today? On Tuesday? I don’t know man, I’m fucking tired. Slept like shit. Sam’s been waiting for a call regarding her potential job, so the entire house is feeling them stressed vibes. Teaching? A fucking grind!
But it ain’t all shitty, you know? The Super Covid Serum continues to work in my meat-bag, and I’m looking forward to passing the the two-week mark next week. Then I will be invincible! Capable of downloading 5G directly into my brain, scaling the tallest buildings, and communing with my God-Emperor, Bill Gates!
Anyways, I’m sorry I’m complaining! Let’s hang the fuck out, fellas! Fellas of any gender! Species! This is Monday Morning Commute! Per the column’s ontological imperative, I’m about to give a rundown of what I’m digging this week! Then you’re gonna join me in the comments section.
Listen, I can’t speak to the classic installments featuring both characters. I can’t! I simply can’t. However, I know that in the modern iterations, Godzilla ain’t got shit on Kong. Look at that gif! He don’t want that smoke. Guarantee dude runs away, like he spent the entirety of his last movie doing. And then? Dude will probably roll up, blast Kong with a cheap-ass nuclear reactor blast, and everyone will jizz. But pound for pound? Grit for grit? Kong’s a goddamn mauler and we must respect him as such. All of this is probably just an overly long way to introduce this column with the notion that, yes, I’m officially excited for this movie.
But that ain’t all, folks! Fucks! Nope. I’m stoked for a bunch of other shit this week, and I’ll let you know all about them below. That is, after all, the function of the weekly Monday Morning Commute. Then you’ll hit up the comments section with your own musing. It’s the tacit agreement we have, friends.