New Year's Special: A Year in Pictures

 

  See that? That's an entire year of blog posts. And what a wonderful year it was. It was a year of warm azure shores, and a year of shimmering snow lain under an icy blue sky. It was a year of eyes opening, and a year of meeting new people; some of the best people I've known.
  Click on any of the above pictures to go to its corresponding post. It's a visual dictionary of Feo's Blog in 2011. I'd also like to show you my favorite posts that have found a place here this year.

 "Apocalypse, No?" 

  My first real post. The May 21st Judgement Day was a subject of conversation for the entire world. Within days of it turning out that May 21st was NOT Judgement Day, the world forgot all about it. Everyone just forgot. It's what always happens.

  "Brownies Are The New Chloroform!"

  One of the most absurd ideas I've ever seen. At least there's hypothetically fewer traffic jams occurring after these things went on sale. Everyone's stuck in ditches now, you see.

  "Blind as a Bat (Not at All)"

  The ability to develop a sense that creates an alternate image of reality is absolutely mindbending. This is the human brain doing what it always tries to do: work around obstacles to achieve its image of perfection. Perfection has most definitely been achieved in this case.

  "Fancy Dancing"

  Dancing has never been this fancy.

  "Eyes"

  Poetry.

  "Lighthouse"

  The Truth.

  "Feo Replies to Your Mind Mail (I Like Books.)"

  Get that Kindle hoo-haa out of my house.

  "The Chair and The Fire"

  While this version is not final, it has received more response than anything I've ever written. That's very nice, I'd say.

  "Home"

  Home.

  "Christmas Eve. (Helicopters and Chimneys)"

  I need to go sleep.

I'd just put up the entire blog as my favorite at this point. It's been a good year.

  I saw with my own eyes what many people dream of seeing, and I am immensely grateful. I am grateful to my family, whose love never falters, even when I am at my worst. I am grateful to my friends, who constantly show me that the good in people is limitless. And I am grateful to everyone who read, reads, is reading, and perhaps will read this blog. It has been both an escape from and a window to reality. It has become one of the core ways that I express myself. And I'm definitely not done writing here. Not at all.
  This is Feo wishing you all, whoever you are, wherever you are, the best year you can have. See you in 2012. I love you all. Probably. Yeah, I probably do.

Thank you.
Feo.

Siberia

/THE TRUTH
  >HAS NEVER BEEN
  >THIS CLOSE TO
  >HOME

Christmas Eve. (Helicopters and Chimneys)

 
  Tonight's the night Santa and his highly skilled tactical insertion team shall drop out of the sky in their stealth copter and place presents under the Christmas tree. It's the only time of the year that fat men breaking into your house is totally acceptable.
  Anyways, it's been a great year. To state all the things that have happened this year would be pure insanity. And that's why it's been a great year. It's been a year of grand intensity.
  I've been watching X-Files again after 4 years of forgetting about that show. Amazing as ever. I want to have been around in the mid '90s when it was just getting started.
  I really don't have much to say. Probably because I'm listening to Skrillex's new Bangarang EP. It melts your brains. For those who have begun to realize that I'm going through a very serious Skrillex phase, please realize that electronic music isn't the only kind of music I listen to. BUT YOU STILL CAN'T STOP ME LOVIN' IT.
  I'm probably going to disappear after Christmas because I'm going to the mountains to hang about and party and all. And I just wrote that sentence without actually noticing it. Damnit, Skrillex. I am probably not partying. Skrillex is leaving subliminal messages that I am.
  HOWEVER. I am leaving a New Year's Special kind of post, just because I'm that kind of person. Cool beans.
  Merry Christmas.

Feo.

Fortune, Smile Upon Me.

 
Life is hitting that block of intensity again. This system believes that if you're going to have a long holiday, you have to burn your brain out before you leave. And here we are.
  I mean, the exams are actually slowing down by this point, but it's nowhere near calm sailing. It seems teachers like to become violent markers come Christmas-time, but they're really just giving their own special kind of gift.
  My blogging has suffered, too. A post once a week, and a short and weak one at that. There's so much I'd like to write about, but whenever I sit down to do it, all my inspiration flies out the window. It hurts, really.
  Then there's everything else. Why can't everything be easier? Why can't Fortune smile upon me? It hurts, really.

Feo.

The Song VS The Album

  Sometimes when you check some one's iPod out, you notice that they have artists that you like. But it turns out they only have one or two tracks. Which leads me to ask: should albums be bought and listened to in exactly that format, an album, or should you just buy the songs that you like?
  iTunes has given us massive power in this regard, to choose what we would like to listen to. So here's my opinion on the rise of digital music.
  I think the album was generally a massive part of the way music was once packaged. The album would reach legendary status much of the time, not the songs themselves. There are exceptions, but that's the case more often than not. Take a record like Radiohead's Kid A. It is, as a single entity, absolutely beautiful. But the songs themselves are not exclusively memorable. Or Silverchair's Young Modern. The album was designed to be understood as a whole, while all the songs have a wonderful individualism to them.
  Newer album releases however are becoming an exception. I would rather buy a song off a massively long remix-filled LP than purchase the entire thing. And that's really what most people do.
  So I guess the buying of albums has turned into an option that isn't always beneficial to the listener. I just like the feeling of having to go throw an okay album to get to that really, really good track inside. Then I fancy dance to it.

Feo.

Home

Home

Take all the things that you are not,

The lies, the promises, the lot.

The crashed attempts at symmetry,

The endless drives of infancy.

Then open wide a silver box

With worn out hinges and broken locks,

And throw your turpitude inside.

The silver walls will that abide.

Strap this silver box of lies

Onto your back with cotton ties,

And out into the calm blue sea

Take the box and swim with me.

We’ll swim until the shore’s no more.

We’ll swim until our souls are sore.

Further than the furthest wall.

Further than a mother’s call.

 And in the centre of this deep,

Where hazy clouds in circles sweep,

You’ll tear the box off soaking ropes,

The box of all your lowest hopes.

Without a grain of any care,

You’ll throw the silver in the air.

It’ll splash into the blue,

And all that shall be left is you.

We’ll swim back to the untouched sands

Of our ancient, true homelands.

We’ll lie down in the growing shade,

And watch a yellowed sun fade.

Feo P-S.

November 23, 2011

New Zealand and Penguins

NO WAAAAAAAY! YOU'RE CRAAAAAAAAZY!

  Knitters of the world! Lay down your needles and hear me out! Your 16 year old grandson does not want a poo-brown sweater with a puppy on it! I wouldn't mind that, but what he wants is a pair of fingerless gloves. Actually, I want a pair of fingerless gloves, too. I guess we both want fingerless gloves. It's the trend now, you see.
  Oh yes, I was saying. Knitters of the world! The whole wide wonderful world! Penguins need your assistance! Not the the hockey team, no. The small and smelly flightless bird! They need assistance immediately.
  Back in October, a Liberian oil tanker hit a reef off the coast of New Zealand. The resulting heavy oil spillage has already killed an estimated 1000 sea birds. So New Zealand-based yarn store Skeinz has asked the knitters of the world to assist them in knitting little penguin sweaters. Knit. I said it again.
  Why? The sweaters will keep the birds warm, and will stop them ingesting oil when they try to preen themselves. Knit.
  Apparently you can't mail sweaters to them anymore, but they still seem active as far as the oil situation goes, so check them out here. 
Knit.


Feo.