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deviation in storage by Metal-Bender


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The chopper blades zip so fast
so how can I hear every one?
The helicopter's slick blades zip so fast
So how can I hear every one?
Stomachs lurching out the open door
Lifting over each new terrain
Lifting over trees and houses, trains
We stare outside the open door
The helicopter's slick blades spin so fast
And I just wasn't up to this missed dance
We just want to get this mission done
And our twisted insides will be whole again
Then the drop zone comes up hard
Momentum bleeds off, we hit the skids
The darkened drop zone comes up "oh, man!"
The darkened drop zone comes up hard
We hit the 'copters cushioned skids
Radios crackle, we're out the door...

J. Shidler c  2013 --2014
This a.m. I had a dream.  This the very basic version:

An old friend of mine invited me to his party.  It was "going to be fun, plus he had some business from a joint venture to discuss,"  He talked me into it after only a little jovial arm-twisting.

He had a big house and some good connections, but I didn't particularly dress-up.  I really just wanted hang out with my pal, talk business, and get out of there early for the evening news.

When I got there my friend was very, or at least nearly very drunk, he was speaking cryptically about things I both uderstood and didn't.  He handed me some old letters that he had written but never sent me.  Some were vey thick and all were scrawled on their outsides with his handwiting.  I thanked him, smiling, eager to read them later, but at the last second he took them back and put them in a drawer.  Instead he took me to meet some friends.  He both praised me highly and creatively, and cut me down, also creatively, in front of them.  It was hard for me to keep up, but most people who weren't jealous of our easy friendship, seemed to like me.

I asked to go to the bathroom and he described the winding route through his big house.  In the end I missed a turn, could see one across a room, but it was a living-room and there were many yuppie sweater-types in there sipping wine and standing on carpets or sitting in wing-backed chairs.  They looked like painted dolls to me, since now I had had a couple of drinks as well.  Their backs were very straight.  I started to make my apologies and cross the carpet, while people's eyes got very wide and they glanced at each other and my clothes and hair.

"Uh, no, you can't come in here, this is a PRIVATE party!"

"I didn't come to this party, I came to use a rest-room like everyone else will tonight,"

Two of the taller dolls started to stand...

"It's ok," I said, "I didn't mean to be here anyway," And I turned around.  Finally, through the kitchen, where people were smiling and joking, laughing at more interesting jokes, and smiling at ME as well, I found one off of a hallway.

Later my friend was taking a few friends, walking, to a nearby club see a band play, and, "Did you want to go?" he asked.

I was feeling more light-hearted by now so I said I would.  Some, in the giggling, back-slapping group were older, some brand new, and as we rolled on up the darkened, then brighter street, I dropped a little behind.  I prefer to play rear-guard in unknown situations, but the moment there is danger at the front I will be there, too. I move up and down the sides.  It is a perimeter patro instinct.

At this moment I was in the rear.  A young woman had been pacing us for awhile, alone.  That also spurred a protective instinct.  We looked over and smiled at each other once, then twice, then a third time.  She was maybe 25-29 (possibly 32 but I wasn't going to tell her I thought that), her even neck-length hair was dyed the same candy-floss pink as her fake leather jacket, and swayed when she walked.  Her jacket had a white faux-fur collar., slightly out of place in summer, but the nights had been cool

"Hi," she said

Some of my friends looked back and smiled and nudged each other and nodded towards me.  I dropped back further.  "Hi,"

"Go ahead," said my friend amiably.  "You can catch up later!"

I didn't WANT to catch up later, I wanted to go now, but what did the woman want or need?  She didn't look like a professional street person. What was her spirit name, and where had she been?  We broke off from my friends.

Cotton Candy and I (I didn't need or want to know her name yet--I was still wondering and suspicious) walking, chatting, laughing, "Where are you from, What are you doing here?  I like your hair, I like yours.  That store is selling time-travel?  What does that even mean, haha!?; do you want to get some food?"  

I could feel an aura that was special about her, not just from her glance at me, all around, but from from the skies and stars, from the people and trees we passed, from the dogs who tried to smell us before their owners pulled them away; and ours were overlapping as we walked.  I could smell her light perfume.  Even that had a candy-floss note; she was sweating lightly under her jacket and on the sides of her neck, her boots were older.  In the middle of her was mystery...

We were only walking for twenty minutes before we came to a street vending area lit by bright lights and filled with the hive-like buzz of crowds.  It was a carnival atmophere on a green in the city.  A couple of venders were hawking loudly trying to draw more interest.  Looking over the scene we agreed on one that looked interesting for its food and drink.  I don't remember what it was.

As we made for it I was distracted for one (four) second(s) by a sign on another vendor with an item that looked like it was maybe even more interesting to our quicky relayed tastes, and even closer to us.  I slowed, but that was all it took, CC moved ahead a few steps and the crowd closed in making a dense line for the place at which I had looked, and she made it to the other place before I could get there.

I saw her turn and smile, but then look around.  I waved but she didn't make me out from up the hill, because then perspecive would have made me short and blending into the dirt.  I saw her face fall like she was thinking, "I knew it!  Why do I try? I thought, maybe... I thought THIS time..."

And then she was gone.  By the time I got there she was gone, her pink hair swaying as she walked on into some other dream.

Now I was alone, and as I turned around I realised... She had been guiding me, a little pink pixie.  This was her neighborhood and my friend's, not mine.

I turned and walked back up the street, but it split two ways and both looked inviting, and I didn't remember which way we had come.  There were no cell-phones in my dream.  We used to have to play by sense of smell.

I asked a group of a few people in the street, gold light coming out of shop windows behind them, "Which way back to the street on which my friend's house might be found?"  Then I could get into my car and go home.  I had missed the news, but...

One of them looked at another and smirked.  "It's right down there.  One left, two rights then ahead until you see it, " and they passed me.  One laughed behind me at some joke.

Pretty soon the bright stores thinned, got darker, turned into bars.  People got strange but not frightening looking.  My friend's street was NOT in this neighborhood, but NOW I was ready to use a public phone and so eyed a random public house (i.e bar).  Two men walked into it laughing.  I came in behind them.  Let me rephrase that,  I was happy they held the door for me, but I was able to hold onto it myself.

The scene was weird, interesting awesome and a little frightening, but I was on a mission so...  There was a man in a string t-shirt who asked if I wanted a drink.  I SHOULD have said yes.  No doubt Tom or one of his friends could have gotten me back to where I needed to go without delay, but sometimes people DO want something from you and going into bars with strangers is one thing, getting into CARS with strangers is something else.  But should have trusted in that split second.  Risk and Reward...

I ordered a drink from the bar to be polite, but, "No calls out," was the reply from the side-burned barkeep.  "Why??" I asked, eyebrows raised.  He only shrugged and smiled.  Guess he was a friend of Tom's.

I began to lose my temper, but left before doing so.  They didn't know what my problems were and had already been, what I was trying to accomplish or what part of the world to which I was going to go, how many times people had lifted me up and let me down in just one day...

The last thing I remember before waking up was making ONE more attempt to make it back to my car by walking along a dangerous interstate and reading the signs, because I paid for those roads...

J. Shidler, 2014-09-17
Oh, my children and enemies.  If only I could go into all of the details...  Mostly I am an innocent bystander.  But I have friends where you are that don't like missile of ANY kind.  We are sailing on a ship to rocky oceans...  YOU know who YOU are, so stick to that. If you are terror we are changing that back on you.  Some guys are coming... Thanks for roughing up my friends but did you THINK we weren't already on your trail?  Islam is love not hate, loser.  Christ is love not hate, Buddha is love not hate.  Manitou is love not hate. Hate is the dream of control.  BUT love can take away your hate-filled dreams, because mama wasn't there for you.  Mama IS there for you in the form of nurses worldwide.  Turn in your weapons and go back to god.  Those wives in heaven?  HATE you and what you have done.  You five year old child.
Hey all!  Hope everyone is surviving and maybe even well. :)  I just wanted to let you know I am going to be back here more often after the weekend.  I'm going a-viking!  Things have been distracting me elsewhere, but I'm looking forward to getting back to my favourite art people soon! :)

I had already written this passage last year, in:

The Kids Are Alright 4

but it is applicable to just such an eventuality as Ferguson.

Life for conscious, rationalising creatures is a birth to death struggle against perceived entropy.  Even if we didn't destroy ourselves, there are natural cycles of creation and decay.  We will never get away from that.  Science and religion will both claim catastrophe, but Nature is the master.  Call God the higher power instead if you want to.  It is inevitable in the natural world AND the human world.  Anyone who studies us can see how we crash around half blindly, because we don't live long enough to become truly wise.  But catastrophe is not unsurvivable--we hope.  At our most basic level, once we learn to secure food and shelter there is more that we need: spirituality, art, logic and reason.  Power becomes our attempt at safety, and so it is, until we blow it.  Sometimes entropy must be embraced in order to effect the CHANGE that we need to bring predictability, safety, and thus peace, to our world.  I make a distinction between entropy, where parts of things can naturally seem to be out of order (like a decaying log or a flooding stream, which processes we can see in action that we can rely on or which encourage us to reform into something structurally sounder, like a more enriched and stronger tree growing out of the loamy nutrients of decay--or more future predictive, like placing our structures farther away from the edge of the stream to avoid being washed away), and anarchy, where systems are destroyed with no clear path to resolution except eradication which informs nothing.  There is no anarchy in nature.  Everything is part of a cycle of growth and decay.  These cycles would happen whether we were watching or not--were happening before, will happen long after we are gone.  Instead, anarchy is a human perception which identifies those things which act AGAINST the reasoning that we must put our world in order to sustain manageable levels of comfort and peace and to prevent dissolution of society.  That IS society--managing our resources to support stability.  Complete anarchy is no good at a rock concert, and no good in society, it is a loss.  If the crowd goes wild and starts tearing up seats and starting fires, the band generally can't go on playing.  End of show.  "This way to the egress!"  Every man for himself = anarchy.  We have to start over from the beginning.  Too often that is what we are seeing today--even among our leaders--every man/woman/child for themselves.  The Punk Rock and Rock and Roll ideal of anarchy is merely a desire to hit some cosmic reset button.  Since we are so often already on our own, why not go all the way?  That is the reasoning.  But what we understand as we age is that our societies are twisted, they aren't hopeless.  We don't really want anarchy, but entropy (it just doesn't sound as ballsy!).

We have evolved creatively to be able to counteract our perception of anarchy in what we so often consider "our" world, and that is the guiding reason for our rise to be a preeminent species on Earth in all of our ways, shapes,and forms.  On the other hand, a little entropy is beneficial because it spurs us to think about what we are seeing.  It accentuates the intrinsic value of what is at stake, and it allows natural progression of thoughts and ideas and breeds leaders who lead through skill and intelligence in managing disarray back towards productive, deeply-rooted results.  We are catering to a range of perceptions and emotions that speak to the heart of us.  That is what art does, and the spirituality associated with art does this as well.  Art describes humanity.  By modern standards that is considered marginally better than a birthright avarice or claimed tribal divinity, and class-defined fear and oppression, or bullish domination (rife with associated bullshit) which is what all-out war brings, whether by corporate greed or by intolerant politics, which itself brings us to all-out war, anarchy.  Entropy can strengthen, anarchy can completely destroy.  Those adept at balance are the best leaders of all, and those come in all forms.  The best ones are able to rise above even their own tribe, to something universal.

"I'm just beginning to see/Now I'm on my way" MOODY BLUES Forever (Tuesday) Afternoon…

Entropy is a loosening of control that allows us to test ourselves without falling flat, with a safety net--our society--with an intent towards something better: how to express ourselves and enhance our world without undue restriction, but which also acts as a restriction itself, on static oppression which allows progression of niche values for destructive behaviours that could lead to further decay and collapse for the majority, until our imaginations break free to answers that can't always rationally be taught, but must be discovered in a flash of understanding born out of some collective need, plus a history of paying attention, from out of the ashes, and out of the mouths of babes, and so to look ahead from that point, to shape our morals towards better behaviour by experience and effort, and even failure, not just by books of lists and dry history and tired legal, political, industrial, and financial fleecing routines.  That is NOT inspiring to everyone, no matter if it brings wealth.  It is NOT balance unless people are inspired and self-controlled at the same time.  This gives us the catalyst to find clearer paths.  It cannot BE controlled.  The discomfort of control is what feeds the fires of discontent.

--J. Shidler  April to November, 2013
Oh, my children and enemies.  If only I could go into all of the details...  Mostly I am an innocent bystander.  But I have friends where you are that don't like missile of ANY kind.  We are sailing on a ship to rocky oceans...  YOU know who YOU are, so stick to that. If you are terror we are changing that back on you.  Some guys are coming... Thanks for roughing up my friends but did you THINK we weren't already on your trail?  Islam is love not hate, loser.  Christ is love not hate, Buddha is love not hate.  Manitou is love not hate. Hate is the dream of control.  BUT love can take away your hate-filled dreams, because mama wasn't there for you.  Mama IS there for you in the form of nurses worldwide.  Turn in your weapons and go back to god.  Those wives in heaven?  HATE you and what you have done.  You five year old child.


Astral Traveller
Artist | Professional | Varied
United States
Born in Boston, Massachusetts. Moved to Delaware at 6 months. Graduated University of Delaware with a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree. Still a bachelor.
Favourite music is Rock, Folk, Jazz. Favourite literature is Fantasy/Science fiction. Movie buff. Shaman, friend of elves. Urban/rural/aquatic/wild.

The Kids Are Alright

Highlighting hope and dismay in the modern world.

The Kids Are AlrightI'm going back to Rock and Roll.  
I've never been away really, but as I struggle with my own rebirth as a full-grown adult (I am 44 in 2013), and as I struggle with the way the world is changing, I am deciding to what extent my consciousness is maturing, and whether to "put away childish things", or at least which ones.  Rock and Roll is staying on the list of current events because it is as much a part of who I am as anything.  I can't disengage; it would be like removing my skeleton.  I don't have to fold it up and put it away in a drawer in order to be able to raise responsible kids or care for the elderly, but I do influence enough people that I have to come to terms with what Rock music IS, and whether it is a danger or a divinity.
It is both.
In a stellar example, I can't help seeing shades of The Who in what Nirvana was doing in the late eighties/early nineties.  Not to compare them directly or with intricacy, if you're a fan you've maybe already done t
The Kids Are Alright 2Where are those who speak out against blind faith and corruption?  Out of sight, and out of mind--hassled and detained on technicalities and infractions, led away to the pens to be reeducated about bullshit, or kicked out on the streets.  Those who don't want to play the game are not as well respected as those who use flashy domination and ladder climbing as an ideal, those who insinuate themselves into power and "society", by changing their stripes to match the herd's, but EVERYONE develops a skill that gives them an edge.  We are all cutting-edge in some way--all of us are.  We are all inherently skilled and creative.   It is part of human nature.  It is a basic aspect of life that we must compete in some way or join a religious retreat.  No one wants to identify as "poor" because we are still so rich in spirit and talents, but there is a flood of exodus from the upper-crust parties, even as wealth explodes for a tiny percentage of that thinning, in The Kids Are Alright 3Meanwhile, the secret machinations behind the scenes of "democracy" are at work as if The Cold War never ended.  We sell arms to tribesmen, then double-cross them and watch our towers fall.  "How dare they attack our Empire!", we wonder, idiotically.  Our obvious inattention to realistic outcomes is staggering, and now our countries stagger themselves, like punch-drunk prize-fighters, because we forgot basic maths, economics, human rights, and moral philosophy all at the same time!  No, terror is not credible, it is disgusting, but there IS a twisted logic behind it.  We reap what we sow.  And whereas our official policy used to be that "We will not treat with terrorists."  We always DID behind the scenes.  We do it openly now.  The CIA is now, according to senator John McCain, in Syria training rebels, some of whom have posted videos of beheadings and lining up those heads of their conquests on bookshelves as trophies.  This is the lev The Kids Are Alright 4Does ANY of that legal, or business, or political mumbo-jumbo REALLY represent us, The American People, and Peoples around the world?  Of course not.  It never has.  It represents the one percent of leaders who CANNOT dig their way to the surface of their own bullshit-spewing machine into the light of day again, plus whoever they can dupe into unwavering loyalty no matter what nonsense they pull.  That is NOT who we are!  In EVERY culture of the world, the power brokers are LUCKY, LUCKY, if they represent even a fraction of the general population.  One reason is because they promise us everything we ask for when running for office and then deliver a fraction of that, or some ill-gotten commodity to placate us, some of which is helpful, and some of which only delays the bite we feel when our systems break down because they were playing games, not leading us to our OWN goals.  We elect an idealised image, and they immediately begin to act counter to wha The Kids Are Alright 5In our search through the world's craziness and intelligence, in our journeys and pilgrimages, we each may come to COMBINE our wisdoms from around the world, and be a HUMAN tribe, not hold desperately onto our own methods in the face of global knowledge and reason.  It is ok to have an identity, a tribal history and love, but does it have to be exclusive?  Not in America, and look at all of the corporations and governments still trying to insert themselves and CONTROL the greatest sources of global knowledge ever to come along: world universities, the internet, religions.  Look at them SURVIELLING AND OPPRESSING and charging higher and higher FEES to their own people as a means of control, mimicking each other in a hypocritical bid to NOT be like the other guy, when they mostly end up being EXACTLY like each other.  We all end up exactly alike using nearly the same tactics, only to different degrees.   We CHOOSE to live by the law.  Our will CANNOT be cont The Kids Are Alright 6Art and education tells us the truth about the world.  THAT is what music does, and especially Rock and Roll: it helps us to push back the encroachment of flawed ideals long enough for us to study them and to reform our attitudes into something stronger, something better, something truthful, something priceless.  Are there casualties?  There are.  Any time we push through the doors of consciousness there are times when we push too far, or are ourselves pushed too far and over a cliff, or thugs are sent out to beat us down.  The outriders and scouts sometimes don't come back; the prophets are consumed in the repressions of their damning society and their era, always inherently geared towards backlash; the shamans go on their vision quests and one day don't return (maybe because no one listened anyway, or didn't comprehend), and we are left to close ranks and find more volunteers.  The people are caught between joining those wanting change and following lead


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rioMenor Featured By Owner Oct 15, 2014
Thank you so much, Jon.
vikingjon Featured By Owner 6 days ago  Professional General Artist
you are so welcome , pal. :)
SteMerrigan Featured By Owner Sep 25, 2014   Traditional Artist
Thanks for the fave man :)
vikingjon Featured By Owner Sep 30, 2014  Professional General Artist
No prob.  great stuff
Anj3lla Featured By Owner Sep 21, 2014   General Artist
Thank you kindly for the watch...greatly appreciated!!! :iconmyheartplz:
vikingjon Featured By Owner Sep 25, 2014  Professional General Artist
:)  Your work is very very good. :)
Anj3lla Featured By Owner Sep 26, 2014   General Artist
Thanks, again...I truly appreciate the support. :hug:
vikingjon Featured By Owner Sep 30, 2014  Professional General Artist
you deserve it. :)
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abyss1956 Featured By Owner Sep 20, 2014
I really appreciate for the watchHug Love 
vikingjon Featured By Owner Sep 25, 2014  Professional General Artist
I really like your work! :)
abyss1956 Featured By Owner Sep 26, 2014
I'm so glad to hear that^^ Thanks againHug 
vikingjon Featured By Owner Sep 30, 2014  Professional General Artist
:) welcome
abyss1956 Featured By Owner Sep 18, 2014
Thanks a lot for the llama as well :D (Big Grin) 
abyss1956 Featured By Owner Sep 18, 2014
Many thanks for the favs Hug Heart 
vikingjon Featured By Owner Sep 18, 2014  Professional General Artist
Anj3lla Featured By Owner Aug 27, 2014   General Artist
Thank you kindly for the :+fav:!!! :iconmoonplz:
Moon Compromise by Anj3lla  
vikingjon Featured By Owner Sep 2, 2014  Professional General Artist
Very welcome and my pleasure to see it! :)
Anj3lla Featured By Owner Sep 4, 2014   General Artist
O-Gosh Featured By Owner Aug 25, 2014
Thank you very much for the faves

vikingjon Featured By Owner Sep 2, 2014  Professional General Artist
Very welcome, friend. :)
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