Friday, Jan 1st, 2025

I am the misinformation

Friday, Dec 20th, 2024

The Sports world of terrible TV Evangelists.

Hating teams and players in sports is supposed to be fun. haha I think it used to be more like this. The kind of fun where you say to yourself or your friend, ‘I hate the Eagles so much. Their QB is such an arrogant bum. But deep down I don’t really mean that because I love the game and respect the challenges of the sport. I’m a huge fan of the talent and expertise all the athletes have in general, and I know that part of the game is enjoying all the unique, quirky personalities and egos, the ones I like, the ones I don’t like at all, because sports are largely about competitiveness. I know this. Even if I think that guy or girl might really be an arrogant person, I don’t actually know them on a personal level and clearly I am biased and aware of my own bias.’ Media personalities like Skip Bayless, Stephen A, Ryan Clark, Nick Wright, to name just a few, and the shows they are on, have taken an angle of seriousness with the opinions of sports and players. This takes away from the fun of it. And worse than that, the serious way they deliver their opinions (all sports opinions are ultimately dumb and fun unless you’re a coach or true expert of the game) turns the fun into real hatred on socials. They make couch potato hatred seem viable to us. ‘Hey, that’s what I just said! and they said it with charming elegance on TV!’ Some of them actually have built entire careers/fan bases off hating guys like Lebron or Rodgers. haha It’s sad that we don’t have the discernment to move on from them. They spin rumours into truths, psychoanalyze as if they’re pros (they do not have 11 years of schooling in psych), and fill our minds with our own biases. It makes us feel as if what we think about sports actually matters (it doesn’t). It’s done all in the name of fun, and some of it is still fun even with these guys and they are playing the hustle like everyone else; but I personally think the way they are presenting it is fueling underlying unnecessary hatred/bias in a silly way and pushing people away from focusing on the amazing fun, joy, and playful misery we get from that form of brilliant, artistic entertainment (there is definitely high level artistry and beauty in sport). This is nothing we don’t know about the internet, I guess.

Anyway, I really don’t need to turn them on; and the sports still arrive every week and it’s still great. Better, even. I can go back to hating Rodgers for fun cause I’m (regrettably) a Cowboys fan instead of having to stick up for the guy (I think he has embraced being the villain and enjoys getting the media going. This is a football fan’s take. I would have to spend weeks or months with the guy to actually know him. Another fan take - clearly he is not the goat for a variety of reasons, but I’ve never seen anyone throw a better ball than Rodgers. Not Allen, Brady, Mahomes, not Marino, Burrow, Manning, Lamar.. my fan impression is those guys agree with that assessment—as far as throwing the ball goes for nearly two decades, nobody was more consistently graceful and accurate. It was like watching Federer on court hit the most improbable shot in the most beautiful way possible- with a flick of the wrist - as if he was playing in the court at his house with nothing on the line. My fan take is—you’d be amiss to think Rodgers wouldn’t have two or three or more rings if he had been paired up with an Andy Reid or Bill Belichick). That’s so painful to stick up for him (fan pain, not real pain!).

There are many many passionate analysts and commentators out there who know how to be respectful and are truly doing it from a place of love and reverence for the games and incredible players they are analyzing.

If you’re looking for light respectful positive masculine fun, I personally think the Pat Mcafee Show does this well. They seem like real fans with bits of expertise, and they want to bring on expert guests to learn from (I don’t agree with their politics at all, but what does that matter? They love sports, and they hardly ever bring that into the live conversations). Not to mention the Kelce brothers. Mike Francesa seems to truly love and have reverence for what he is doing as well, more on the serious side.

These are just my personal thoughts and I could be wrong or adding to the noise. I write this down cause maybe you’re like me, and you wake up one day and go, ‘what am I doing wasting my time here?’

L

Friday, Dec 13th, 2024

My Back Pages 

Despite the very detailed and well thought out argument from Grand Theft Bus front man Tim Walker, I do think there are songs people cover and steal and make their own, on a level - if it is the sort of cleverness in theft that inspires admiration even from the original owner of the property. Unfortunately for Steve Earle this is not one of Bob's more lucrative songs to best him on, but by giving the guitar a 50's teenage vibe that layers the difficult memory of romantic idealism in the lyrics with a fitting irony or nostalgia; adding some great modern drums and subtle production that builds wonderfully and drives the song; and delivering the vocals with an aggressive seriousness and passion and sorrow that enhances the beautiful poetry Bob wrote, Steve lifted this song with an intensity that now gives me chills (this intensity was lacking in the famous multi-songwriter live version, though that and the byrds carry a certain whimsy and fun). It's never going to be on the radio or streamed a billion times, but well done Steve. For delivering this reminder of the dangers of certainty...say it with me - ambiguity and peace are well established friends. 

I've listened to this song at least 150 times. I am not afraid to say I’ve wept to it. For me, Steve put this song in a similar category as, say, All Along The Watchtower by Jimmy or Hurt by Johnny (written by Bob and Trent respectively). That is, he made it partly his own. Thank you for writing it Bob, and thank you, Steve, for delivering it. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VbaFX5g2_Uw

L

 Crimson flames tied through my ears
Rollin’ high and mighty traps
Pounced with fire on flaming roads
Using ideas as my maps
“We’ll meet on edges, soon,” said I
Proud ’neath heated brow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I’m younger than that now

Half-wracked prejudice leaped forth
“Rip down all hate,” I screamed
Lies that life is black and white
Spoke from my skull I dreamed
Romantic facts of musketeers
Foundationed deep, somehow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I’m younger than that now

Girls’ faces formed the forward path
From phony jealousy
To memorizing politics
Of ancient history
Flung down by corpse evangelists
Unthought of, though, somehow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I’m younger than that now

A self-ordained professor’s tongue
Too serious to fool
Spouted out that liberty
Is just equality in school
“Equality,” I spoke the word
As if a wedding vow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I’m younger than that now

In a soldier’s stance, I aimed my hand
At the mongrel dogs who teach
Fearing not that I’d become my enemy
In the instant that I preach
My pathway led by confusion boats
Mutiny from stern to bow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I’m younger than that now

Yes, my guard stood hard when abstract threats
Too noble to neglect
Deceived me into thinking
I had something to protect
Good and bad, I define these terms
Quite clear, no doubt, somehow
Ah, but I was so much older then
I’m younger than that now

Monday, Dec 9th, 2024

I am not a gamer.. I know little about any games. Arcane as a show though… wow.

L

Friday, Nov 22nd, 2024

Rachel Kidd is three quarters done the initial draft of the score for the third book in my series of books, The Errand, and if there was ever any doubt, well, it is, in my opinion, beyond a fool’s shadow now. She makes the most beautiful, detailed things – extraordinary flows from her with as much effort as a waterfall trying to be sublime. That is, no effort at all. She ‘is’ sublime. ;) Here are some terrible visuals of some notes I wrote for her if you care to zoom in.  We like to see the innards these days. The reality is Rachel has already done all the extremely detailed work for these parts – she has not ‘missed’ on a single section of the book yet - and I get to come in and give it some subjective direction. A little visionary juice where I can. It’s a hell of a lot of fun. I have a habit of snagging geniuses for this feeling. They can go and create the most magical things conceivable with your simple little ideas. We are also piecing together where we might play some shows when we’ve completed all three books. More on that later.

L

Sunday, Nov 10th, 2024

Zuckerberg is the message. Elon is the message.

Although there is some nuance, I personally think there are no true-blue rebels on social media. It doesn’t matter what side - left, right, middle. Posts of (often) simplistic hyperbole only trigger the other side to grow stronger. As humans we were never capable of bringing politics or deeper things to social gatherings without making things worse, or at best, confusing (this is as old as time – look at what they did to Socrates. And unfortunately, that also seems to mean longer detailed nuanced political posts that are accepting and open in nature also often trigger at social gatherings. Beyond the deeper example of Socrates, think of dances, house parties, community gatherings, even family gatherings or gatherings with close friends – well, none of these places have ever been quite the right moment for this kind of information and often start fights). Deeper discussions have always needed controlled settings where patience, detail, depth, space, acceptance, and thoughtfulness can breathe. As humans, unfortunately, we desperately need these special settings to dispel or sift through our inner emotions – gifted universities (rare?), purposed gatherings for political debates, deep books, music, art of all forms, philosophical discussions with some level of formal respect for the moment given, book clubs large or small - in order to think, but to also consider others, properly.

You are probably complicit on some level. So am I. Everyone probably is who has an account. I realize this is where we are. I don’t have any answers for myself beyond this first step of acknowledgment (and there are many critical elements beyond socials to consider of course). Some people say don’t have an account or don’t post just like some said don't buy or watch a Television after it gained traction. Maybe they’re right. Policies and party lines aside, TV, over the long haul, is a large part of what allowed for us to worship someone like Trump who clearly lacks in the basic humanity needed for serious leadership (20 years ago, although I am sure some existed in secret, you could not openly be convicted of a felon and proven a liable rapist in a court of law and gain the most powerful position in the democratic world) and (again, along with many other nuanced elements within the fabric of our culture) social media gave us the weapon to set this worship on fire (have we convinced ourselves we don’t worship him because we have declared war against him on a social platform, or write about him in a negative light in a weekly news outlet, or mock him regularly with witty cartoons? Every left and right news-outlet in the world gets up in the morning obsessed and triggered by what he said the previous night. It’s the greatest gossip column ever written and we are all writing it. What did we believe would happen by adding a juicy doom and gloom end of the world element to the narrative?). I am not saying there are not positives to socials (there seems to be a misplaced fear in our culture that a critical thought or belief in what might be a deeply negative side regarding what our youth are forced to love from the current societal pressures that happen to be governed by large corporations might turn someone elderly); but I personally believe that being deeply honest about this is likely one of the first steps, and I challenge myself to consider if the positives are outweighing the negatives. What kind of rebel or serious thinker do I think I am on these corporate platforms? Who am I triggering if I send out emotional posts that I believe are just, with degrees of bravery in sharing, certainly, given it might not be the right place for it (I don’t really do this, but I tend to follow and read people who do which is complicit in a way if it is not really helping anyone. My clear errors lie elsewhere {I speak of the ones I am aware of})?  Has enough happened now where we realize or can admit that we can achieve little more than momentary success or moral taboos on socials that don’t feed us down at our core as a culture, and taboos alone – though important on some unabundant level– are not powerful enough to win the long-haul against hate? In fact, they only seem to make it grow. Especially if we are also sometimes (often?) governed secretly by bias and rage without nuanced depth or ambiguity all in the name of justice and acceptance. Fascism smiles gratefully when the far side mouths the words, I’m certain. Comrade, it says, feed me.

Just some personal thoughts. I could be wrong or adding to the noise. I felt heavy and grieving the last couple of days since the election down there, and will continue to think about what justice looks like; but you are what you hate, so I'm gonna go for a walk in the woods and I am so excited. 

P.S. There are so many beautiful positive things about social gatherings I am grateful for that everyone understands intuitively. No need to get into that.

P.P.S. I’m not talking about tolerance.

L

Sunday, Oct 27th, 2024

On my last night in New York I thought it fitting to go see The Great Gatsby musical on Broadway..it was the greatest Gatsby, extraordinary, high flying, incredible production, songs, vocalists, actors… simply a spectacle of wonderous proportions. Sadly, I enjoyed myself thoroughly. The director was either a fool or a genius. I can't decide. I think that makes them a genius. 

Friday, Oct 16th, 2024

The sweetest note

Monday, Sept 2nd, 2024

In no particular order (unless you mean what I like the most from top to bottom in my current mood), here are my favourite local Saint John NB songs and one of my local Playlists I am creating for an upcoming road trip. My personal local favs!

1)The Black Path -Adam Mowery

2)Centre of a Long Time (full band version)- Mowery

3)The Girl With No Tattoo -Adam Mowery 

4) Ghost Town - Naked Baron

5) Angels of Canterbury Street -Clinton Charlton

6)Ultra Linear -Reagan's Rayguns (cause Adam's bass, but Sean Boyer's songwriting is always great)

6) Bill Murray - Something French 

7) BYOD -Plasticwar (I count this cause Jay Ogden wrote it. It's rated R, heads family friendly peeps) 

8) Crash & Burn -Jessica Rhaye/Brent Mason

9) Imperial show - Breast Milk & Tears - by Hilary Ladd (particularly the piano ballads)

10) Anything by Cole (Savoie. Also can be very R rated)

This list is from the top of my head. I am missing tons! e.g. I like some Penny Blacks. I also like Hospital Grade and Ermine and Catherine Kennedy’s voice and Comeau seems like he is a star straight out of the 50s, and John Mclaggan wrote a song I loved a few years back, and i have not heard Gavin Downe's new band but i know he writes lovely songs. I always thought David Elliot was a natural star, and Geoffrey Smith’s stuff is beautiful - he's from the legendary LYLM. Brent is a lyrical legend himself. Still missing tons, like Papal Visit. So much genuine talent in SJ for such a small place. That’s all I can think of right now. There would be so much I don’t know. I used to get out more. Peace.

Leo

Sunday, August 18th, 2024

Some recent updates..

*I had the pleasure of being interviewed by Jenna Morton on WFNB’s writer’s podcast: Wordcraft Podcast (although I can’t bring myself to listen to myself, I remember having a wonderful time discussing creativity with Jenna.. and the long lost novel I discuss on the podcast I wrote years ago, well.. I found a local New Brunswick Publisher (Galleon Books) not long after I did the interview!) I want to give a better shout out to the Great Books program at Stu I only mentioned in passing - they are brilliant teachers there, and it’s where I found a passion for deep literature and writing. Listen here if it pleases you: https://open.spotify.com/episode/22AJuzEVsfjBzQ4vLpSkkx?si=-aNcin0HQ5KiaLROnG5ulw

*I got the grant for writing a new novel from Artsnb! The first three books in The Errand series are mysterious fairy poems. The fourth book will be more like a traditional novel, and my Publisher plans to have all four in the same binding (four-in-one) so that each book is more like a chapter (which is more in line with our original idea). It’s going to be cool to see the books altogether like this.

*Tyler Warren Ellis and I are going to be releasing the films for my first two books for rent or purchase online soon. Stay tuned. They are recommended for ages 7-15. Excited to release them! We’ve got some great trailers to go with them, and Hemmings House Pictures helped us with the animation on the films.

*The music Rachel has for the third score for The Errand: The Queen (third book in series) is just gorgeous so far! Some tweaking to be done, but I’m loving where she’s going with it.

*I wrote some thoughts down on the Alice Munro thing.. originally I thought I would try and break it all down, but realized it’s beyond me. I will share some brief thoughts soon though.

*Here’s a lovely mail from Sheree Fitch

Tuesday, June 18th, 2024

Haven’t updated here in a while!

*Just finished a short story for adults to accompany a collection of short stories I’m working on (it’s the second story in the collection thus far). Working on the re-writes now and it’s close. More on those stories later.

*I’ve got a novel coming out probably sometime next year through Galleon Books. It’s a strange book - a children’s novel for adults. Pretty excited about it.

*Rachel Kidd and I have started, after a long hiatus, working on the musical score for the third book of The Errand series. She’s writing it, of course, and sending me ideas for ideas. The show at the Imperial has been put on hold as my initial stage ideas weren’t right at all; and I’m not sure when we will be back up and running for that particular show.. However, I’ve started taking the books and musical scores into classrooms for live readings and workshops which has always been my main end goal. I like to engage with the kids and be creative with them with ideas.

*I wrote a couple of grants. Fingers crossed.

*I’m working on a small novel for teenagers that will be about 20k thousand words. It’s the fourth installment in The Errand series. Writing.. and re-writing.

*I’m going to do some cruise ship book signings soon. I forget what days I’m booked, but will post on social media if anyone is around and wants to say hi.

That’s all for now!

Leo

Thursday, Dec 7th, 2023

I have started doing.. live readings and workshops for kids! 

Leo

Friday, Oct 20th 2023

Had a wonderful time hanging out with the staff at Indigo last weekend..can't say enough about how smart and fun they all are (even the swifties) ! We almost sold out of the first book, I met a surprising amount of other writers and artists and we had great chats...one little girl was sooo excited to get my book that made my whole weekend !                                                                Huge thank you to Miranda and Indigo staff for having me, my books, and our animated films on display.

Leo

Wednesday, Sept 15th 2023

Another journal note from my time in China.. the day before 2020.  Calm, peaceful. 

2019. 12. 31.  An Old Photograph 

I saw a frozen pool of water that felt like a very old, living black and white photograph. The hundreds of willow leaves were perfectly caught in the morning light (as it was just a feeling of non-colour with so many shades of grey or darkness), some falling or floating, some landed at the pool’s bottom like little Chinese boats shipwrecked there. There were sprays of white in the frozen water that looked like creases formed in the photograph.  Many rocks were given a heartbeat by the warm, frozen stillness.  A lighter was only half way in the ice, the other half oddly colourful, undecided on immortality. The pieces were waiting for some director to yell ‘cut’ before they slipped into Spring and continued on with their tinkle, or their bobbing, or their molding decay. 

Leo

Sunday, August 27th 2023

Cinematographer Tyler Warren Ellis has been putting all of his technical and creative abilities into two 18 minute animated films for my books ('animated books' might be a better descriptor) that will be presented at my show at the Imperial Theatre. Not to mention, Andrew MacRae,  through Hemmings House Pictures, has provided very special animation work that has been added to the mix. I’ve never had the pleasure of being the director for films (animated books) like these before, and without Hemmings House, or someone as highly skilled, knowledgeable, talented, and dedicated as Tyler Warren Ellis, it simply wouldn’t happen. I can’t wait to show everyone who comes out! I really can't say enough about Tyler and how important he has been to my show... he has been there since day one, providing exceptional technical feedback and knowledge and creative input. It's a special thing to work with him as he knows how to beautifully translate all of my ideas and also provides a plethora of great ideas of his own. He is always willing to take on new challenges, learn new things, develop new skills.  Simply put, he is a wizard of extraordinary magic. **Rachel Kidd deserves a lot of credit for how  (I believe) wonderfully these films are turning out as well given she wrote the scores for them, and the music placements for each shift between animated illustrations are (I believe) extremely well crafted. It was a delight work with Rachel on those scores, as working with Rachel is like nothing I've ever experienced. I mean, it's ridiculous what she can do and the beauty that pours out of her musically (more on that in an earlier journal note). The combination of Adam's illustrations, Rachel's music, and Tyler's videos... well, it's like being a kid in a candy store for me Directing with such extraordinary individuals. What an actual treat. I make sure to sit down and pinch myself.. and if this is a deep dream that requires a stronger force than a pinch, well, I choose to stay dreaming. 

Thursday, August 17th 2023

I have been working with these highly gifted pros this past week.. Tyler Warren Ellis, Jenny Godin, and Sean Boyer. From cinematography, to puppetry, to qlab.. all things creative or technical, three amazingly gifted, passionate, and solid humans to work with. 

Sunday, July 2nd, 2023

I was in China in 2020. Interesting to see my perspective change so quickly in these journal entries from January to February 2020.. and how drastically my perspective changed over the coming months.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           2020.01.29.  
I saw many hidden faces on the street, on the bus, in the mall, in the underground passages throughout the city. Faces hiding from a secret, veiled thing, looking to take lives, not many lives, but one life dropped on the great sea of social media is enough to cause waves that lap on the furthest shores. The masks worn to hide the many faces were of a large variety and colour - some helpful, some not, some useful masks worn with the knowledge of their usefulness; most unhelpful masks worn without the knowledge of their uselessness. Others walking about with no mask at all, in great defiance, no more aware of how sensible this is than if it were a genuine plague. Some walked around with their mask under their nose, as if it was half sensible to do this and stay comfortable (god dammit). Many shops closed, shuttered, in great fear, lest death come to their doorstep and find them happy and cheerful and disobedient. Others were sensibly open, wary, but not stupid, knowing a certain form of death does not knock before he senses fear and so better to go this way than endure death twice. I saw smiling eyes under the masks, flirtatious eyes, curious eyes, bored eyes, desperate eyes, seeing eyes, stupid eyes, and eyes that were happy everyone was finally joining them on their great sense of fashion. Perhaps following them.  I saw fear - the crossing of the road to avoid coming too close. I saw fear in me - the waitress picking up and pouring more water into my dinner glass that I will now no longer drink from. I felt discomfort - the uselessness of my smile and the missing humanity that grows from a smile, the contagious cheerfulness more deadly to all things gloomy than the coronavirus is to man. I felt this uncomfortableness especially because body language is so important in a world where my tongue means so little. I saw simplicity and grace in the working Chinese who must carry on, even the ones who were afraid to be outside their homes. 

2020.02.04. 
I saw the tissue on my coffee table pulled out at the top of the package like a fine, white sail, billowing as it raced around the islands of my books and fruit and ashtray. Yesterday, it was a great wave splashing down, as though the entire ocean had turned to white from billions of these crests crashing into it. I saw my neighbour outside my apartment. We both smiled warmly with mouths tightly shut, as neither of us were wearing masks, both trying to convince the other of our warmth while holding our breath for fear the other might kill us. 
I saw the many paths on the small mountain by my apartment carved out with great care by the feet of many peaceful stories. I saw the great, lofty wire towers, like many gods stretched out holding hands as far as the eye can see. I saw mountains in the lingering sun that sheltered these gods. I saw great buildings, my district, block-out the entire sunset; but the warm lights glowed from hundreds of these apartments as though the setting sun was penetrating the cement structures and pouring through the far side. I saw kind faces, out for a walk on a cold winter day. I saw many oak leaves, dead, but still clinging to their respective branches, hanging there as fake papery leaf ornaments. They felt this way too. It is ugly to look at a fake flower (or leaf) that has the notion, the utter arrogance, to assume realism. But it is beautiful to see a real flower look fake, or a dead one to feel like an ornament. It is the hint of the fairy. 
I saw the sun teeter on the edge of the great precipice and fall into oblivion. It was a special coming of night, where perhaps the clouds along the horizon were thick, or the buildings that surrounded the lower rings of the mountain I wandered cut off the light so abruptly that twilight was strangled from existence and day to night went like a switch. One moment I was dazzled by the warmth of deep blood orange, the next I was in darkness surrounded by millions of city lights. I felt this change deeply, as I breathed in the remaining glow, the ocean to my left, putting my head down for mere seconds before I looked up and it was night and the ocean was swallowed up. That said, past the city, along the mountains, in the far distance, a line of light could be seen gently bending back into the horizon, allowing for a proper twilight in the darker places. 

Leo

Wednesday, June 27th, 2023

I often wish I was a bit more like Ratty in The Wind in the Willows, ‘fumbling around’ with my poems with no intention of ever really showing anyone (outside of maybe a best pal). What I mean is, doing art for its own sake. The value of being published, for example, should not outweigh the value of writing. There is nothing inherently wrong with making money. i.e. Michelangelo certainly got paid. The Grapes of Wrath was a best seller that ironically made Steinbeck rich. Making money and receiving peer recognition are not modern-day inventions, and it is a dream worth having. But elements of this vision have spread into our day to day lives perhaps like never before. We’ve (apparently) banished the greedy tyrant but kept their gnawing appetite for ourselves. I would like to learn how to be better at fumbling aimlessly with my pen and enjoying that, without considering all the other stuff, because wisdom says writing a shitty poem for no reason at all—as Vonnegut famously put—is, perhaps, the most inspiring thing in the universe.

Illustration compliments of the incredible Chris Dunn!

Wednesday, May 11th, 2022

A character sketch I wrote inspired by a good friend of mine… he’s kind of a true Huckleberry Finn type.. really looking for that way out..

He was far too content a human being to put pen to paper. His mind danced with poetry and myth in a serene, natural way, leaving him without the void that painfully entices the writer to strip metaphors from life and force them unwillingly onto a page. The writer asks, ‘Why do I write?’ and in quick turn, without hesitation, replies, ‘my pen understands me.’ He had no such need, as he felt understood by the birds, the trees, the rivers, the oceans, and nothing delighted him more than to reflect upon the song these naturally ornamental entities lifted him to, often birthing an untroubled, crystal laughter, his instrument and part to play in the lustrous, ever constant melody.

 If the great pain yet comes, wiping away the happiness he so naturally develops, he may find that a dip in ink and a plunge onto parchment are newly necessary endeavours he cannot forsake. Until that day, let the poetry exist in him as it was meant to: let the mirth and myth not falter or be stripped from life, manipulated onto a page, closed in a book, to exist only when the spine is bent in a singular, solitary fashion, creased in an ever deeper fitting groove. No. Let the metaphor continue to be draped before his eyes without a need to tear it forcefully from its natural setting. Let them both, metaphor and man, exist in their proper place… until that day.

Much of his contentment was furthered beyond most men in this: He desired no followers. Many men, he thought, in their heart of hearts, desire other men to follow them, even at the desert of who they truly are. They often play the part of helper or healer, even in areas of knowledge they have no say, speaking unknown lies from their heart, feigning interests or superficial empathies, for it lends to the hand of power. It is their hell though, he says.  A hell of incessantly, unconsciously casting out for the weak, feigning deep empathy and pity, layered thickly with an oily longing to ‘help’, neglecting their true selves in every step and stage of it. A narcissistic obsession deemed by the world as a superman’s attribute, glorifying; and deemed by the heart as unwanted, depressive, smug sanctimonies: for the perverse rush of obsessive pity simply cannot last. It is sooner or later relieved by an equally perverse sense of gratifying power, neither of which feel to the intensity of real pity or power when felt in such neurotic, unreal fashions. He saw this hell in many men, and wished to steer clear of it at all costs. ‘Follow me,’ he heard them say, ‘I have what you need. I can change you for the better.’ Instead, his mantra persisted and endured, yes, at times forlornly, with the melody of leading no man but himself. Pretending he held in his hand what others needed so they could pretend to heal and follow him seemed in union with insanity. It was insanity, as far as he was concerned. Sometimes he got lonely; but quite often, when in league with a truer path, happiness, he found, was blooming in the undergrowth.