Like villains in 70s cop dramas…an actor like Richard Lynch greatly appealed to him…a graduate of the actors studio, Lynch became known for portraying villains in film and television…his distinct scarred appearance made him a popular foe. How that appearance greatly appealed to D. Lynch had been fucked up LSD and set himself up on fire burning seventy percent of his body. He had to spend a year in year recovery. It was then he go religion and went to the Actor Studio and HB Studio. He was the foe of the Seven-Ups, a squad of plainclothes officers who use dirty, unorthodox tactics to snare criminals.

D. Liked director/producer Phillip D’Antoni who was responsible fort the memorable car chase sequences in Bullitt, French Connection and the Seven-Ups…

 “no consumers have been hit by this,” Zack reassured the listeners…

He didn’t want to create a panic. If attack was imminent, it would send the populace into a frenzy resulting in chaos and pandemonium which was the last thing he wanted. No, he wanted to instill a lingering fear. One that could be manipulated over years, possibly decades. Now that the Arab terrorist threat had subsided, a new enemy was needed.  Zack hoped that fear could be created by cyber terrorists. A group completely undefined…absent of ideology…nation status…physical identity…the perfect enemy…it could be summoned out of the wind…an ever present enemy yet never present…a foe completely of the imagination…

-frequency-

He chose the song because of its strong identity with the moon. The group like clumsiness of the lyric irked him a bit but the strong identification of the group with a secret piece of land and their strong bond with greatly appealed to him…

 

My brother is in the bathroom making noises. He won’t be out in any time soon.  He’s lost it…when he gets high he loses it….,when he’s not high, he lies in bed depressed. I didn’t judge him least not much. When he gets high he likes to talk. And touch. And become overly sensitive. Who am I to judge?…I live most of my life in fantasy. It’s grander there. A world of magic….mystery…sensitivity. When it wasn’t on the dark side with its irritability….self doubt…cruelty…I am in love with the aesthetic.  Broke, with nothing do I escape into breath and shallow devotion to zen. In the woods I tell myself I am getting closer to nature….detached, things become noticeable….like the soft rustle of the wind or the cry of a bird.  The robust belch of a passing locomotive becomes a huge sonic event.  Like  jets soaring above.  The sound of its engine begins in D. But ends in E.

-cut-

In the womb of now I dissolve into cool

Splashing words real cut images deconstructed into montage 

from found objects discarded

-cut-

Love minus zero...at the window with a broken wing...songs in silohuette....shadows of memory cast their nostalgic perfume..the fragrance takes me back to the Dharma palace…with its view of light in the morning…the sun witnessed from every conceivable angle through glass sectioned off like a Kandinsky painting…train rides with its history of mad insane engineers...yodeling hobos...classy pullman porters...cowboys and indians...the Lone Ranger and Tonto...swapping blues licks with the boys...backdoor man..., the good times that make one say wow...sun licks the qua...time to write yourself into the movie...