What is this song? I wrote it in C but then transposed it to B Flat to better match my voice. Then I had a hell of a time singing the 3/4 part, so maybe I should have left it in C? I dunno. It's not really like anything I've ever done before, which is good. You gotta evolve as an artist. At least, that's what they tell me. I don't know who "they" is.
It's the Royal Road, baby! Sure, J-Pop might have abused the hell out of this chord progression, but I haven't used it much! Took my new piano out for a spin. The guitars were all played on my cheap Fender acoustic; for the dueling solos, I ran them through Reason and distorted them. I like the concept of change. Change is good, because change is life. To resist change is to be destroyed. Change and adapt. I hath begun my career as a motivational speaker/life-coach. Perhaps I can do better than George Costanza.
Do you want to move?
Do you want to pick through your belongings
Pack it all up
and start again down the street?
This house is my home
Where I had my children
Where we scrapped ice off the walls
And learned to have space.
When I sleep at night
I worry about leaving my past
And all the memories we made here.
But shouldn't we change?
If we fight against the current
We drown and sink beneath the surface
There is no way to add to a person
without embracing the difference
between the past and the present.
I know that nothing will ever stay the same
Life is not a picture
A painting
A screenshot
Or a photo.
Last night I had a dream
of a different woman and I
doing homework
In another home
With another child.
What is this strange reality?
A different universe?
An omen?
Or a simple flight of fancy?
I don't know
But maybe
it is okay
To move.
Kind of proud of this little piano instrumental I wrote on my new keyboard. A piano is so much more powerful than a guitar when it comes to songwriting. It's so much easier to adjust chord shapes with an extra hand!
It takes a decent amount of hubris to name your song "Rock 'n' Roll" but it's on par for the genre, am I right? An oldie that I rerecorded this week. Just some simple three chord rock with lyrics about chasing that youthful feeling.
There was a lot of whining about the price of eggs during the 2024 Presidential election. Google's bullshit AI tells me that the average price of eggs in the US during January was 4.95, a 15 percent increase over the previous month. Of course, bird flu is to blame, but this is Trump's America, and facts don't matter, only feelings. Americans felt pessimistic about the post-Covid economic recovery, so they voted in an authoritarian with an inflationary agenda. This is because America is full of dumb fuckers. Last night, Trump announced that the delayed 25 percent tariffs on Mexico and Canada would finally go into effect. He also raised Chinese tariffs from 10 percent to 20 percent. Given that America is the largest economy in the world, and that we consume around a quarter of what the world produces while having only five percent of the world's population, this... isn't good. If Americans were dissatisfied with Biden's economy, I can't imagine they'll be happy with Trump's inflationary policies. Those tariffs will be paid by American consumers, who will either bite the bullet and go home with less money in their bank accounts, or reduce consumption, shrinking the economy. Tariffs are protective measures meant to jump-start domestic industry or protect a vulnerable part of the economy. It's not ideal that all of the world's microchips are made in Taiwan, but it takes a lot of time and money to build a chip fabricator--around three years, 10 billion dollars, and 6000 construction workers, according to Intel. So it makes no sense to put blanket tariffs on Chinese electronics (most electronics are assembled in China) when it takes an extraordinary amount of time and money to build your own chips. The consumer is just going to end up paying a lot more for electronics. This is Econ 101, but Trump seems to not understand this. My own personal theory is that the tax cut Congressional Republicans are preparing will be paid for by tariffs, and they're counting on Americans being dumb enough to not realize that they're footing the bill. One of the advantages Republicans have over Democrats is that they realize that the average voter is an idiot, so while I don't think consumers will ignore how the price of everything drastically increased immediately after Trump took office, it's a gamble that may pay off, considering how dumb everyone is, and how Trump was reelected despite running on a Destroy America agenda.
The big, dumb fucker in chief also announced last night that he was ending aid to Ukraine. This comes after Trump and Vice President Vance personally berated and insulted Ukrainian President Zelenskyy while television crews filmed last Friday. Vance accused Zelenskyy of disrespect and ingratitude, despite it being obvious to anyone watching that Vance and Trump were the rude assholes in the room. Former Ukraine supporting Republicans like closeted homosexual hypocrite Lindsay Graham seized the bait and threw Zelenskyy under the bus as their dear leader desired. With the abandonment of Ukraine, Trump signaled to the rest of the world that America will not honor its commitments to allies (Trump wants to get out of NATO) and will now support dictators like Vladimir Putin, despite the historical animosity between Russia and the US. Now America has always been full of shit when it comes to international conflicts--the Iraq war never found any weapons of mass destruction, Vietnam was a nonsensical bloodbath, and the Afghanistan war was all for naught --but we've never outright abandoned democracy and our post-World War 2 allies in favor of an oligarch like Putin. Then again, we've never had a shadow President like Elon Musk dissolving government agencies and illegally firing government employees while harvesting the personal info of Americans.
I haven't touched on Trump's deportation agenda or his illegal executive orders or the coming fight over the budget and whether or not the President has the right to do whatever he wants with Treasury funds (he doesn't). None of this matters because although the signs are there, most Americans haven't noticed a difference yet. Ignorance is bliss, right? If you're plugged into the right wing grifter echo chamber, maybe you even think things are getting better. I'm here to tell you, you big, dumb fucking idiot, that things aren't okay, and you're going to notice the effects of Donald Trump's destruction of the American government and economy sooner rather than later. There is a price for ignorance, and there is a price for moral apathy, and there is a price for being fat and lazy and stupid. Fiction couldn't conjure a better physical representation of all of America's faults than Donald Trump. Now that we finally have a President that represents the worst of us, will we get what we deserve? Because if you take away freedom and democracy and civil rights and hope for the future, you're left with greed, gluttony, consumerism, and sloth. The latter isn't much to build a country on, is it?
Wake up, you dumb fucks. You wanted to fuck over the rest of us and drink our liberal tears, but in the process, you're getting fucked and you're fucking things up for your own children and anyone else that might care about the future. Stupidity is a privilege you've been afforded until now, but I'm taking it away for the good of the public. In the words of Dean Wormer from Animal House "Fat, drunk, and stupid is no way to go through life, son."
Here's some Rage, because that's why I'm feeling lately.
I've realized that my initial review of God of War: Ragnarok was a little too negative after having played it for an additional sixteen or so hours. Despite being an iterative sequel, it does do a lot to expand the basic gameplay, at least after thirty hours or so. You get a new weapon, the Draupnir Spear, which adds a lot to your arsenal, and a huge new optional area opens up in Vandeheim called the Crater, which is full of quests. This area is not only the best in the game, it pretty much is the game. I think I've spent well over ten hours hunting dragons and tangling with other beasties in the Crater, and the option to free-roam while still enjoying story-based questing really makes Ragnarok enjoyable. As for the spear, Kratos now has three weapons, all with two runic-based heavy attacks and specific combos, along with his sword hilt ability and his shield, giving the player a plethora of options for any combat situation. The exploding spears are a nice ranged option, and the ability to build up might by repeated spear strikes makes the Draupnir my default weapon most of the time. I'd also like to compliment Santa Monica on Ragnarok's visuals, which are stellar. I mashed the screenshot key over and over again while taking advantage of the photo mode. Now, after fifty hours in, my opinion of Ragnarok has changed. It might be a safe sequel, but it's really fun and well-designed, and anyone searching for a strong single-player odyssey won't be disappointed.
The winter freeze is upon us, and so it's been a big month for musical creativity. The Sack of Troy is a elegy for Hector and all of those who fight reluctantly. Had a lot of fun with the guitars on this one. I used my T57 Tube Screamer with the strat. Initially I had this song at 210 bpm, but I had to slow the drums down to 195 bpm because I couldn't get the bass part right. The lyrics are below.
Give my sons all the coins that I’ve earned
Give my wife my books that I want burned
On the shores they’ve gathered armies
Long of lance and short of heartbeats
You can’t hide yourself any longer
They have swords that have your number
You can’t hide yourself any longer
They have swords that have your number
From the walls I see the blood bath
Children scream the names of fallen
“This one’s armor will go to you,”
“This one’s memories will fall to you,”
You can’t hide yourself any longer
They have swords that have your number
You can’t hide yourself any longer
They have swords that have your number
Around my walls Achilles chased me
Eyes of fire and heart of stone
I did face him though it killed me
He wouldn’t give away my body
You can’t hide yourself any longer
They have swords that have your number
You can’t hide yourself any longer
They have swords that have your number
Names preserved in poet’s lines
Echoed across the seas of time
“Do you remember why we fell
into a churning mass of knives?
Do you remember why we died?”
They can’t hide themselves any longer
We have swords that have their number
They can’t hide themselves any longer
We have swords that have their number
An old instrumental dating back to my Texas days. The original used a Digitech Whammy pedal for the rhythm chord progression; on this recording, I used a Pitchfork set to fifths.I don't remember where I heard the story of Lucretia, but it was a myth that made an impression on me.
Wrote and recorded this last night in a frenzy. One positive to the dissolution of my country is that I've been very creative! Went for a 60's feel, with the guitars and Iggy Pop beat.
I've put almost forty hours into Vampire Survivor, a bullet-hell roguelike with pixelated graphics and a nostalgic Castlevania theme so obvious that they released an official Castlevania DLC. Gameplay consists of wandering around an expansive map while ever-increasing waves of enemies attack. Your character auto-attacks, so all you have to do is move and chose from a huge selection of active weapons and passive powerups that random chance offers you every time you level up. If you pair the right weapon with the right passive ability, you'll eventually evolve your weapon into a stronger form. This is gameplay in a nutshell--Vampire Survivors is a very simple game--but the sheer amount of unlockables, from weapons, stages, characters, and relics (items on the map the confer a permanent bonus; e.g., a map, the ability to reroll random weapon/passive ability drops) ensures that you'll always have a reason for another run. The dopamine rush from having your character absolutely annihilate hundreds of enemies--their deaths leaving behind gems of various shades that serve as experience--is very real, and I've often wondered whether Vampire Survivor can be considered a manipulative game. Its designer worked in the casino industry and you can tell. When you kill a boss, a chest will drop that contains anywhere from three to five random rewards. A little piece of crescendoing music plays and fireworks shoot out of the chest, increasing your anticipation. Were there predatory microtransactions, I would think I'd hate this game, but Vampire Survivors is like a gambling ode to the simple games of the NES generation. It doesn't have a story or high production values. It simply massages your lizard brain and lets you relax and forget America's downward spiral into authoritarianism (putting out the positive vibes!).
Contrast the simple mechanics/indie production values of Vampire Survivor with God of War: Ragnarok, Sony's big-budget sequel to their 2018 God of War reboot. Ragnarok is a perfect example of a modern triple-A singleplayer game. It's gorgeous, well-voice acted, plays well, and is about as safe a sequel as you could imagine. Developers Santa Monica have added very little new from a gameplay perspective, other than more time playing as Atreus, who serves as the story's focal point. The narrative tension between Kratos and Atreus from the first game is absent, even though Ragnarok tries to replicate this dynamic. Kartos's story from GOW 2018 is just more interesting--Atreus finding his place in the Norse pantheon isn't as compelling as wondering whether Kratos will learn how to parent his son or revert to the monster he was in the original games. Without a really compelling story, Ragnarok becomes just a series of little dungeons and simple puzzles. I wish they'd tinkered with the camera or given Kratos some of his old powers back, or maybe made Atreus more fun to play. It's not that I don't like the game--I've spent almost thirty hours in Ragnarok--but it feels like something I've played before. It's interesting that an indie title like Vampire Survivor can suck up more of my time than a big budget action game like God of War, but that seems to be the situation. Sometimes all we need is a little reversion to the basics. Still, I'd like to commend the PC port of Ragnarok, because it runs really well (triple digit framerates at 1440p maxed out with DLAA on an RTX 3080 and a Ryzen 7 5800x), especially seeing how Spider-man 2's PC port is such a disaster.
God of War: Ragnarok screenshots below (because they're so pretty):
My friend who I had a couple beers with last weekend sang me some song about daddy selling Trump flags out of the back of his van to the tune of a John Prine number; I can't remember which. I was very drunk and so was he; nevertheless, such an affront demands a response, and this is what I came up with. We are very lucky to live in the present as opposed to pretty much any time from the past. Still, I didn't foresee witnessing the fall of the Republic. It doesn't have to fall if we do something. Every little bit helps.
Trump campaigned on being a dictator on day one, but it seems his ambitions extend far beyond a single afternoon. From issuing executive orders like post-it notes from God to purging the FBI, he sure seems like he's not playing around. Elon Musk, an unelected South African billionaire, is locking Federal employees out of their computers while stealing the keys to the Treasury. The Department of Justice has promised to go after anyone who impedes Musk and his cronies. Birthright citizenship might be up in the air; El Salvador will apparently be the destination for deportees, possibly including American citizens. Nonsense tariffs have been put in place against Mexico and Canada and then temporarily removed, sowing chaos in the markets. America, quite frankly, is not the country it was just a few weeks ago. Project 2025 is being implemented, and its goal is to transform the country into an oligarchy.
What the fuck do we do?
First, you can call your worthless Democratic or Republican representative and tell them you want them to uphold the Constitution and the rule of law. Will this work? Seeing how they give more of a shit about billionaires like Elon Musk, I don't know. I do know that if more and more people call every day, then that might make them think twice about doing nothing while we descend into authoritarianism. To find your congressional representative, click here.
I called Todd Young, one of my senators earlier, and got transferred to voicemail. I'll call back later to see if I can get an actual living person on the phone, but here's what I said:
Hi I’m a resident of Aurora, Indiana and I have a message for the Senator:
I want to know if the Senator is going to preserve the rule of law in this country. An unelected South African billionaire is preventing government employees from doing their jobs while stealing the personal information of millions of Americans and nothing has been done to stop him. I want to know if he’s going to be complicit with President Trump’s efforts to transform the Justice Department and FBI into his own personal police force. I want to know if the Senator supports birthright citizenship and the Constitution. I want to know if the Senator is going to do his job as a member of Congress, and represent the American people rather than billionaires and special interests. I want to know if the Senator will put his country before his political party. That’s what I want to know.
Thank you.
Secondly, you can donate to organizations like the ACLU and pray that the rule of law holds up enough that the Trump administration obeys the courts. I also give to the World Wildlife Fund and the Union of Concerned Scientists, and while they won't oppose authoritarianism, they will hopefully provide a little resistance against the Trump administration's efforts to destroy the planet. We should also support legitimate news and journalism, and for me that means subscribing to Vox, Slow Boring, and Defector (ostensibly a sports site, but they feature some excellent political writing from David Roth in particular). Maybe also cancel your Amazon Prime subscription, and don't use Instagram or Facebook.
Thirdly, you can take direct action. Join your local Democratic party or attend a protest. Write a shitty little article like this and share it on social media. Just do something. Don't let depression or anxiety take you. These fuckers are moving fast because they know they have limited time. They're counting on the American people to sit on their asses and cry. Nothing is inevitable and no one is absolutely powerless. This is going to be a tough four years, but we can make it through it.
First the bubble pops
The endless greed
That desires to replace
All of us humans
With computer programs;
Then come the nonsensical tariffs
On all of our precious microchips
Making it more expensive
To buy a phone,
Computer,
Car,
Or just about anything.
Then the federal funding freezes;
The mass firing of the watchdogs;
The offer to just quit
And hide your head in the sand.
When the deportations start
There won't be anybody to pick the food,
Put a roof on your house,
Or change the sheets at a hotel.
When you're paying ten dollars a carton
For eggs, and the price of apples
Is eight dollars a pound,
And your kid loses their free school lunch,
And the old lady down the street
Can't use her SNAP benefits;
Will you perhaps reflect
That maybe it wasn't a good idea
To vote for an idiot?
Or do I ask too much?
A simple folk song dating back to those halcyon days of 2011, Dinosaur was supposed to be part of an acoustic project that I abandoned back when I was a younger man. In those days, I worked at Pet Smart and came home and wrote songs. That was my twenties--hiding inside, writing songs, playing video games, drinking cases of Miller High Life, maybe going out to play at an empty club. What am I nostalgic for, really? My life is much better now. It's my youth, baby. That's what we're missing. The big 40 is coming and so begins the descent into middle-aged. That doesn't mean that life is over--really, it's just getting started. But I do wish I had tried a bit harder to make it as a musician back when there was more of an appetite for garage bands, when I had the time to spare.
A compelling mix of rock, folk, blues, and electronica, Living In The Past is the second Theme Park Mistress album composed of songs written and recorded over the past decade. It's lo-fi, hi-fi, and everything in-between. Rock 'n' roll ain't dead; it's just been sleeping. Available on all major streaming services. Links below:
Hey a Nirvana parody! Nobody's ever done that before, right? I do think this is a pretty good homage, however. I committed garage rock sacrilege by plugging the guitars directly into the preamp and doing all the effects in Reason. But hey, I don't have a band, nor do I have a lot of fancy gear, so on the other hand, doing it all myself is about the most punk rock thing one could do, right?
What's that, Master? Is it time for a walk? I will do my best to destroy the harness before you put it on me. Yes, it is firmly ensnared between my jaws, as I intended. This is an amusing game we play, isn't it? You try to tear the harness from my teeth and I clench down as hard as I can. A-hah, you win again. Your fingers are delicate, Master. Let me bite them for you.
Oh, the outside is wonderful, is it not? Is that a frozen cat turd? Why do you restrain me, Master? Do you not know the deliciousness of petrified cat feces? 'Tis a treat unparalleled in the dog world. I must fight you, Master. You do not know what you deny me.
There, a stranger across the street! I will pull you to them, Master! Hurry, hurry, before they flee! Surely they will want to be clawed across the face and will reward me for pouncing upon their person! Why are you screaming? They want to pet me!
All apologies, Master. I am sorry that you fell because I had to lunge suddenly at a soiled taco bell wrapper. Your bruised knees and curses are worth it, I assure you. This wrapper tastes like garbage. Mmmumm, most delicious.
No, no, no, this is not the time to cross the street. I am sniffing here, Master. You don't understand. I detect the faintest whiff of cat urine on this particular spot. I'm sure the car will stop before it hits us. It's a risk I'm willing to take.
What, now that we're home, you don't want to play? Why can't you sacrifice your new shoe to my destructive urges? Well, if you're going to put that one back, I'm going to get another one.
Oh, this bread and plastic taste so good. What, why are you taking them from me? It was on the counter. Fair game, Master! If I can expend every effort to reach it, then I deserve to have a piece. Or the whole loaf.
This couch is not for me, eh? Then why does Mommy let me lie on it? Explain it to me, Master. I am good dog. I'm sure you won't mind if I indulge in a little casual pillow destruction. Mommy won't mind. As I said, I am good dog.
Hey! You there! Moving shadow across the window! Stop I said! Did you see it, Master? Did you see? Something moved over there! Who knows what it could be? We must raise the alarm! Intruder! Intruder!
I swear I saw something, Master. I better raise the alarm again to see if I can flush it out. Why do you berate me so? I'm going to choose to interpret your shouting as joining in with my raising of the alarm. Yes, shout Master! Let them have it! They will never cross our window again!
Oh, this shoe is great. Most delicious! Here, Master. Why don't you have a taste? I will share it with you. If you can take it from me. What a fun game we play.
Another excerpt from The Resurrection, a novel in progress about a former rock star named Mercy Maddock's quest to reunite his band. Here's a link to an early section of the book.
The Great Drive West
They say that California burned down in a great conflagration that swallowed LA and turned multi-million-dollar homes into ash and cinder. No one could afford those homes anyway, and the people who could, couldn’t afford to rebuild. In our collective mind’s eye, California is a paradise of beautiful people frolicking on beaches while skateboards slide down drained aquifers, punk music blaring in the background, emitting from speakers unknown. Cowboys and movie stars and tech giants and the omnipresent sun. It’s far away from the Midwestern reality that many of us know. Contrast that pop image with everlasting fields of corn and tiny towns rotting from the inside out, drugs and trash spilling from their crumbling houses like the disemboweled innards of a famished bovine. It’s not all good, nor is it all bad—I know the truth and the fantasy of both places—but the myth of the West has started to fade, and I wonder if the fires which char its surface are the result of a deal gone bad.
We were on our way to make a bad deal, to sell my soul for a guitar. The landscape flies past the windows as Mercy drives his SUV through the wide open spaces of desert and rock. This much emptiness has enough room to swallow anyone’s soul, although apparently I’m the only one left who has anything to sell. Mercy purchased a Rubik’s Cube for Maggle to fondle, and he’s made real progress with it, having matched the colors on two sides. I’m content to sit and stare through the glass, pondering the hazy mystery of my past, while trying to conjure anything real for the future. Mercy’s fine though—he’s huffing on a vape pen while the stereo plays Otis Redding—tapping out the rhythm on the steering wheel, lost in his quest to get back what he once had.
The thing about the horizon is that if you keep on looking at it, you can see whatever you want. The shimmer and haze, the heat distortion, the curve of the earth. The stark monotony of the landscape. In an arid environment, nature becomes a minimalist. All that space begs for something to fill it, so you must oblige.
What I see is a woman walking through the sand. She’s so far away that I can’t make out her details, but I imagine that her hair is the same sandy blonde of my wife’s. Is she waving? Should we stop and make sure that it’s not a mirage…”
“What if somebody just shot all the rich people?” yells Maggle, tossing his Rubik’s Cube off the dashboard.
“Christ, Maggle, what are you going on about?” says Mercy, as he struggles to keep the car on the road.
“I’m not talking about your healthcare CEOs or that guy on your block that drives a Porsche,” says Maggle. “I’m talking about the super-rich. The guys who have enough money to build rockets and own stretches of Hawaii. The real sonsabitches.”
“That’s a real novel idea you have their, Maggle,” says Mercy. “I’m sure no one has considered it before.”
“The guys who are trying to replace us with computers. The guys who own all the trucks that deliver packages. The guys who ruined the internet. The guys with more money than God or Davy Crockett.”
“Davy Crockett?” I ask.
“Does he mean ‘More money than Croesus?’” asks Mercy.
“Why should we want to kill them, Maggle?” I ask, fearing the answer.
“Because what the fuck are they doing with all that money?” he snarls. “I’m living in a house full of trash. So are my neighbors. You telling me I haven’t worked hard in my life? Well I have, if not lately. But that don’t mean I deserve to live like I do. What about all those people in Africa who can live off of like fifty bucks a month? What about instead of building a giant dick to the Moon, one of those assholes donates half of their fortune? What about instead of buying off the President, that South African rat man stops the world from heating up? How can you have that much money and not do anything good with it?”
“Rubik’s Cube really flummoxed him,” whispers Mercy.
“If I ever win a bunch of money,” says Maggle, voice rising, “I’m gonna buy all the girls on my street new TVs and fancy perfume, and then I’m gonna donate half of it to the town and make ‘em change the name of my street to Maggle Street, and then if I have any left over, I’m buying guns and Scotch for anybody that’ll spend the day with me, just doing whatever I want.”
“That’s kind of sweet and terrifying at the same time, Maggle,” says Mercy.
“They took away our connection to people!” he blubbers, tears beginning to well in his eyes. “You can’t talk to anybody no more! There’s phones in people’s faces, and pretty soon they’ll put them in their brains and nobody will go outside their house and the whole damned mess will collapse like Rome and Athens and Machu Picchu!”
“We’ve got to keep it real, luv. You, me, and Julius,” says Mercy. “If there’s love in this world, then there will always be people.”
“Nobody loves me!” says Maggle, sobbing now.
I reach back and give his shoulder a shake.
“Nobody cares about a fat, middle-aged methhead who lives in trash and talks to rats!”
“I care,” says Mercy.
“You care because you want me to play the piano!”
“Yes, of course. I want to give you a purpose. I want to let you show the world that you still have it.”
“I don’t have it!”
“You do, Maggle. Everyone of us has something to give.”
2024 was mostly a year of doing bodybuilding training with relatively light weights while maintaining my bodyweight at around 185 to 190 lbs. Losing weight earlier in the year really impacted my training. I had to abandon my PR every week strategy, since I couldn't lift anywhere near as much weight as I had been. Throughout the year, I kept my weight loss, although my weight has been creeping upward after the holidays. Being lighter and moving without soreness became more important than doing a deadlift with 405 lbs for 9 reps, for example. For 2025, I'd like to slowly add back some weight and see if I can't start lifting a little heavier. At 39 years old (turning 40 this year!) I know I can still get stronger; I just have to balance the demands of heavy training with middle-age and a physically-demanding lifestyle. We got a puppy last August, which turned out to be a German Shorthaired Pointer in disguise. She's a very active dog that demands multiple walks every day, so I've been doing a lot of walking.
This is my current routine, which I just started a couple weeks ago. It's a bodybuilding/powerlifting split, with plenty of exercise variation and a few heavier lifting days. If I miss a day, I'll just do it the next day.
Sunday: Upperbody hypertrophy
Incline DB press 2x12
Overhand chins 2x10
Chest supported rows 2x12
Curl movement 2x12
Triceps movement 2x12
Monday: Lowerbody hypertrophy/shoulders
High bar squat 3x10 (pyramid progression)
Good mornings 2x12
Abs (crunches or knee raises) 2x12
Side laterals 2x10-12
Upright rows 2x10-12
Tuesday: Light bench/upperbody hypertrophy
Bench Press 3x10 (pyramid progression)
Underhand chins 2x10
Inverted rows 2x10
Curl movement 2x10-12
Triceps movement 2x10-12
Wednesday: Heavier lower body day/shoulders
Low bar squat 4x5 pyramid progression
Deadlift 3x5 pyramid progression
Abs 2x12
Side laterals 2x10-12
Upright rows 2x10-12
Thursday: Heavier Bench Press/upperbody hypertrophy
Bench Press 4x5 pyramid progression
BB rows 3x10-12
Biceps movements 4x10-12
Triceps movements 4x10-12
A simple song about raging against the current. Quite a bit of stratocaster soloing over a minor I-V7-IV vamp. Baby Yoda is caged while John Cena looks on. Such is the way of life.
All it takes is one more scream,
and there goes the hairbrush,
the toaster, the broom
snapped across my knee
like Bo Jackson
splintering a baseball bat
in half.
The dismal daylight,
The constant confines,
The time of year.
I am not who I thought I would be,
and though my love
is like a steel cable drawn taut,
I can’t help but rage against
my circumstances of being.
What is this song? I wrote it in C but then transposed it to B Flat to better match my voice. Then I had a hell of a time singing the 3/4 ...
