Category Archives: Uncategorized

Proof on the Web of Compositability 1st Draft

[gview file=”http://PHOLX.COM/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/Web-of-Compositability-Proof.pdf”]

Criminal Alliance Chapter 1

Criminal Alliance

[Assata Wallowa, is half west African (Sudan) and half native American (Souix). She is a strong minded, ingenious, and supra-naturally empowered woman. She is an agnostic/atheist anarchist feminist. She enjoys getting involved in the random and mundane situations of daily activities and turning them fantastic. She is obsessed with radical cultural history, art and activism, street performance, and literature.]

[She lives most of the time in the urban metropolis wasteland reclaimed on the west coast after Wall street and the Federal Reserve crashed during the 2016 investment hoax. Since then, old European powers divided up the east coast, China declared an Asian cultural monopoly throughout the bible belt, and the entire southwest had been in a state of flux of sorts. The old system had consolidated into one organism where government had seized control of all corporate business when the bottom dropped out of the dollar. A second system had emerged as well through the evolution of the cultural industries, where local indy commerce was taken over by hundreds of autonomous networks engaged in histories largest non-hierarchical social system. The working name of the region became known once again as Aztlan*. The city she dwells in is called Legend City*.]


Its the same thing Alan Watts was saying minus the religiosity and poeticism.” I tried to appeal to their sense of sentimentality.
“About experience being the all encompassing reality rather than the individual’s own sensory experience?” Anais knew exactly what I was talking about.

“And Identity is the same thing as experience. Think of describing the identity of the Earth. Of course your perspective is skewed by the human condition and its point of relevance at any given time. Tell someone what Earth meant say before Copernicus, like 1000 years ago during the dark ages. Now tell someone about _Earth during the time of the First Enlightenment when John Sartre and Frederich Nietzsche were alive. Your entire story would change depending on what epoch you were standing at explaining about identity. The Earth is obviously much more dynamic, but the individual is much more dynamic than we think as well.” Damn. That Earth analogy just popped into my head.

“So, I’m not who I was a few years ago?” Beauvoir, chimed in to the resonance.

“Sister, you’re not who you were a few minutes ago?” Grant Morrison would have been proud.

“Why the fuck does it matter if I’m a different person than I was before?” Anias swallowed a large sip from her Pad Thai Martini* thinking this ish is just some philosophical nonsense.

“The point is, my friend, that identity is not so much a constriction on our behavior as it is a general tendency of behavior.” I retorted. “And more importantly, the life-style patterns people carve for themselves can be altered by identity expansions.”

Beauvoir laughed spitting up some of her Black Dragon back on the plate. “What the fuck do you mean by identity expansions?’
“I didn’t make this shit up, ok, there’s chaos magician/improv poets out there doing this shit all the time trying to get the norms to stray off of their beaten path.” I didn’t feel like telling them yet, most of the free-thinkers felt that the norms were doomed to perpetual·slave-robot-hood.

“You’re not attending those OTO meetings again, are you?” My sisters were not fond of the freaks at my old order.

“No no no. This is all strictly free form. Its like a space where the magicians quit taking themselves too seriously and the poets begin to take themselves a bit more serious. Its fucking crazy. You guys should check it sometime, people do some bizarro prophetic street performance shit, and try to snap people out of their robot mode. You ever hear of the Living Theatre?”

“Yea, those hipniks that got naked and shot heroine on stage as part of the performance, back in the 1960’s?” Anais knew her 60s counter-culture.

“Those “hipniks” were fucking revolutionaries. They would have plants in the audience, incite people to react, and if they didn’t, the plant would step forward to demonstrate and initiate the interaction. It really pushed people out of the mind-frame of passive consumer. This is like Living Theatre meets Guerrilla Poets.” I knew they wouldn’t care unless they had seen what I had.
“Who gives a fuck? The ‘norms’ are not interested in being ‘snapped’ out of their reality.” Anais was the realist among us.

Maybe under the right persuasion…” Beauvoir smiled slyly to the side flapping her eyelids like giant dragonflys’ wings, slowly over-exaggerating each swish…

Anais and I both busted, blowing sea-spray martinis into the air.

Wiping my face with the hemp-blended cloth, I manage to regain linguistics and recruit “Lets get up outta here and check the Network Co-op, I hear the Brewers Guild has kicked down cases of the new nut Brown recipe.”

“Jasmine. We good?” I just had to check in with the waitress, my credit was good everywhere… Everywhere I needed to go that is.

“Drop a few coins for the sister, ladies, I got the meal.”


It was coming on 8pm and the ladies wanted to get to the show, but I felt like it would be good for us, to check the ANC, the Anarchist Network Co-op, there was a local one just up the way at the old Hotel on 1st street. We walked south down 4th to the herb(not the cooking herbs, that one is over on third) garden co-op where every stage of marijuana cultivation was in a constant process. I was a part-time volunteer down here, so I had a good eye on where the best of the fruit was kept. There’s a lab where seeds are cloned. acre-sized green house for growing, patios for shucking, wires for hang drying, screens for keef and hash, a school for learning all of the process, and a rooftop, for you know, experiencing it. I usually worked in the field trimming. I had some special strains that I had been working on with one of the lab techs, one of which was geared towards mind-clearing meditation for delving into those catatonic trance states of sensory exp…you know brain-deadishness, its called, Mind Ruin. The other one was a sensational overload aimed at turning the ordinary into a mystical experience. It can turn your day dream into wet dream, some 1990′ pop-rock into a classical symphony . .. this shit would have you staring at the ground for hours mesmerized by the non-patterns of dirt. It had been titled messianic since so many fools “find god and become one” on it.

Instead of playing with either of those we stuck to some good ol’ fashion dime store candy; blueberry bubblegum. I gave a pinch of my vanilla flavored local organic tobacco to Anais and she converted it into a spliff. The heads at the herb garden were busy working so we maintained pace, puffing down Fillmore. We were busy strolling, cackling it up, laughing about Anais’ latest victim when I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Holy shit, like a litter of kittens stashed and forgotten about, a pack of norms no older than 13. Ribs protruding, cloth barely adorning their bodies, lay huddled about each other in the shadows of a building with a paper sign asking for change.

“Holy fuck. Is this real?” Beauvoir managed to speak while Anais and I stood for seconds staring.

You guys, ok?” I asked hoping for some dim dull spark of promise.

No answer.

Are you guys hungry?” I felt they might need a direct route to Maslows hierarchy, rather than a side street. “Dont you guys know about the vegetable garden with the fruit trees, over on 3rd ave? Food is free, why dont you guys go get some?”

Somehow they still weren’t processing it. I couldn’t bring them with me, I had been chewed out by most every scene around here bringing homeless norms to functions.

“Yo, lets get.” Anais was like most of my friends, she couldn’t care less about norms.

Figuring this to be another lost cause, I explain with a sincere effort, “If you guys want, there is a garden and an orchard four blocks west of here. Just walk that way, you cant miss it.”

My trio shakes it off and strolls to the ANC. It still is way beyond me, how so many people stay so hibernated in the old world way of being, rather than step outside of their routine even just for a moment, to see what else is out there. Fucking gardens and orchards in every district and these poor souls are here unknowingly condemning themselves to their own personal damnation.

This neighborhood ANC was being held at the Newsroom. It was basically a big mess hall-slash-public library that also played host to town hall and community health meetings. Most of the time people were just hanging, snacking, drinking, or partying. There was a stage there and couches for days. Most of the Network Co-ops were like that, places of refuge, where food and news would spread like wildfire. This was one of the better ones cause of the large arcade wing, and it was basically the most central, meaning more diversity and influence.

The meeting was already underway, which was good for us. I knew I couldn’t keep the ladies here with me for more than an hour, even if there was free beer. I mean if you are connected, not like kingpin drug dealer connected, or side-kick trustafarian connected, just well, even slightly connected, than most of the necessities had been anti-capped, or anticapt. It just basically meant that food, clothing, or shelter had better be free, cheap as shit, or it would be stolen and become anti-capital. It developed out of a spoof art movement in the days of chaos following the 2016 hoax. The artists were suburban white teens just fucking around, but people took it serious, or at least their project, and formed a militant group around the posters and the ideals they were sharing. Then one night about 40 affinity groups formed, most of which were in this city and they looted every single mall and high end store and burned it to the ground. While I do not totally agree with the methods used I feel that the end result, that everything is cheap as shit, is most righteous. So, even though the price of beer is peanuts in most places, I still love to drink free beer. And damnit this beer was brewed and bottled just up the street!

“At least they brought the Vanilla Cream Ale,” Anais grabbed one from the cooler and popped the top into the used lids bin.

“You gots to be kidding, they put macadamias into the nut brown. Beauvoir?” Those cats at the Brewers Guild were always mixing it up. I pop it and motion to her.

“Yea, thanks.”

“Cheers.” I grab another and we all clink with a menacing wink and a sly smile. “Eight?” Anais could kill any game of pool, but she favored eightball.

“Go ahead sisters, I want to catch some of the meeting.” I sit on top of one of the chairs nearest the back, so I can keep them within earshot.

The meeting material was pretty bland most of the time if you already knew the agendas….When the imported fruits and veggies were coming in, which garden co-ops needed assistance, which free schools needed teachers, any new art movements/projects or shows, and the news I wanted to hear, what the sustainable farms were doing. The sustainable farms had all been functioning solid with the wisdom of the elders from the Navaho, Hopi, and the Apache tribes. After the Repatriation Reparations Revolution, or R3, the native tribes reclaimed most of the southwest and they allowed Immigrants from all over to live and work on the sustainable farms. Now and again, one of the younger elders, Chakra Yakub, would speak at Freedom Universities around the SW and stop by the downtown ANC to update the people on different farm happenings. This was one of those times. The summer solstice was around the comer, so the tribes would put calls out to bring people in. I planned on relocating to one near the Mogollon Rim as soon as I handled some projects in the ‘Tropolis.

I had to time this just right to be able to keep my friends interested, and skip the preliminary meeting process and speakers. Yakub is a fucking badass, I know I have a lot to learn from him in the future. Many write him off as too radical, but I’ve witnessed his ability to connect, not just to people, but to animals, to machines, to nature. He’s been pursuing the arts of weather control, mostly cloud-bursting, but its not 100% so people lose faith. He was here now speaking of the Mike Reynolds and Paulo Solari inspired Post-Consumer Commons Castle being built on the hill on what once known as Miami Arizona. Partially dug into the mountain, it is a sort of Mad Max castle of Montezuma, with over ten layers of housing. The genius behind the project was that it incorporated rain water into the very structure, allowing it to cascade off when necessary, or collect, for cooking or cleaning. Grape vines hung in every direction providing shade and food. He was asking people to imitate the project in their own way and develop other functioning ecosystems that are able to exist with or without supervision and control. Most people felt that he was too ambitious, you could hear strictly doubt in their questions, but damn, that really spoke to me. I am definitely going up there, somewhere, soon. Theres just too much to take care of here for now.

“Ladies.” I interrupted, and slid beer 2 into their hands, and refocused with my trio.

“It was the same way with both of them. They should have ducked out and dropped off the radar once they figured it out, made their statement, and did their actions.” Beauvoir still believed that the 1960’s could have created the alternative system.

“They would have lost impact and not made their statement as loud as they wanted therefore losing the ‘umph behind their

revolutionary ideals.” Anais thought things all happen for a reason.
“Who?” I had a hunch but hate assuming too much.

“Weather and M.O.V.E.” They both snapped.

“How can you be so sure that they didn’t have members drop out?” I love casting doubt.

“The F.B.I. dropped a fucking bomb on their house, Assata! Even if people did make it out, they didn’t construct an open alternative system, which is the fucking point.”

“It wasn’t time for it.” Anais took back over, leaning against the table after cleaning up.

“Process, my friends. Process. That was just the beginning.” My philosophy always comes full circle.
“Oh, shut the fuck up. Are we catching the show or what?”

“Yea, let’s get.”


The E-Main (electro-magnetic train) would take us right to the club. I really only wanted to catch the main act, after that we had another affair to begin unraveling. It was coming on midnight already, which was perfect. The 2nd show didn’t start till after and lasted until about 4am. We would be outta there before that, doing what I call, restoring justice. It was simple really, we just wanted back what was rightfully ours. ‘Fuckin pigs been stealin our videos, artwork, and paraphernalia for years, and damnit, I want it back. We need it back. Its our fucking cultural history. So thats what were up to, even if I have to get it my self. The sisters were down to help and I have a solid plan, the props, and the familiarity to handle it quicklike.

I popped one of my synthetic eyes into my mouth and pretended to scour the scene with it.

“How’ld you get the DNA code from the pig?” Anais didn’t know the depths of decoding.

Traditionally it was necessary to undergo a number of processes for organ replicas. I spit out the eye and explained “Organ replicas can be done now almost flawlessly just by standard measurements and identification information which can all be accessed from the police headquarters website.” I had a friend at the community hospital lab that was assisting most of my projects. “I gathered the info and the Doc spit out a set of eyes.”

It was funny to me that after so many waves of technological innovation and socialization, that the government was still using eyes scanning security systems. I guess its all they have to go on.

You bring some candy?” It was the only thing I needed that wasn’t already dialed in.

And you know this.”

It was a bit like cocaine, except instead of speeding up your tongue, making your palms sweaty, and pushing your guts through, it made you drop to the floor and visualize yourself floating through space. It became a favorite for anesthesiologists all over. And it works with such a low dose that its relatively undetectable.

The wagon is going to be dropped off at 2:45 out back, behind Snaketown. The clothes will be inside. If we separate, meet me a few minutes before. Your clocks say 12:14 right now?”

Thats affirmative captain.”

Eye, eye, sir.” Everyones a smart-ass when they can be.

“You got a paddy wagon lined up?”

Hells yea sisters, and right before we get in the wagon a call will be made stating that two prostitutes were picked up and being taken in. I’m telling you, this is all on me, and its all covered. Just pretend you’re a street worker until we see the goods, grab everything we can, and peace the funk out.”

I was hyped. This was going to be fucking big.
The Emtrain quietly slowed to a stop.


Snaketown was booming. The deejay circuit was out of control. A collective of deejays had emerged that kept every DJ interested, traveling. You could spin every night if you wanted in a different city. Of course that was possible independently, but to be part of the network would guarantee a full house in even remote communes. It also kept all the music fresh. They are like nomad gypsy deejay warriors battling the encroachment of silence and machine hum the world over. Tonight there was some cats from Japan, Africa, the tribal Lands, and Australia. The band I came here to see is a group of people descended from Manu Chow and Fela Kuti, both in family lineage and style orientation.

While I love the music that comes through here, I have to admit its the ambiance I come here for. Most of the thug-life wanna-be-hard rocks died off during the last Gang Wars to the Front Lines Farce. Every few years the government’s Ministry of Disinformation would create skirmishes between local gangs to provoke them into killing each other. It is extremely successful. At times I feel sorry for the kids that get tied into it, but I just keep telling myself that they make these decisions with full awareness. Its some sort of cultural phenomenon, or a self-imposed suicide pact stealing the souls of potential revolutionaries. I guess they need to live and die as robots first.
Women are hella respected here too. After a few groups of radical feminists publicly lynched a number of rapists during the days of chaos men began behaving with much more respect for women. Now we can dance like we feel without every Dick with a swollen member thinking we want to fuck him right here and now. No more of this “show me your tits” objectifying bullshit that went on in my grandmothers day.

We had picked up a few beers to support the artists and ‘maintain the fade. Since the club was collectively run, most of the money went straight to the artists without passing by a landlord or a government process first. I kept zoning out on the overhead projection, thinking about tonight and how it was going to focus my direction. The 3D hologram projection field made the skateboarders look as if they were going to land right on the crowd. The sisters had found some friends to blab it up with and I was drifting in and out of semi-sensitive trance keeping my alcohol level constant. Dont want to be sloppy drunk, just confident drunk. In and out. Get what I want and just a few other things. Should be cake.

My band was playing so I moseyed to the front and let loose. It was a 15 person ensemble, with a large drum and horn section that electrified the air. They played a good 45 minute set, but I swear I fell into a trance and entered a timeless state. What they were saying melted into the sounds and the harmonic background vocalizations. There were a few lines in particular that really spoke to me and stuck inside my internal narration. It went like…/ patterns are rhythms / rhythms repetitions / repeat all intentions / to solidify your wisdom /. I thought it was brilliant, Ima keep that one with me. One of the guys invited me and anyone with me back to an after party. I was feelin like bedding with some foreign dude, I just have way too much shit to handle tonight still.

It was after 2 already so I started gravitating to the ladies. I wanted to make sure they didnt get too smashed, fucking lushes. So many kids are so used to consuming as much alcohol as they possibly can. Its as if its normal to be an alkie.

Aye,” I figured that would suffice.

Gimme 5.” Anais was pulling clients. She secretly hated men. Thats why she would talk them into trying DOM and then just punish the shit out of them. As if they had all wronged her somehow.

I drifterd towards the back to see the wagon fall into place.

Beauvoir was back there making out with one of the female performers. She claimed bi, but I dont think she really liked men either.

“Ahem.” I had to. This was serious.

“Oh hey. This is Fatigo.” She’s from Ghana. “Assata,” as she casually waves her hand towards me.

“Pleasure.” I would love to talk. But again…

“Call me if you come back through,”

“Goodnight” and she blackened into the darkness.

And like a clown car, the paddy wagon bounced around the comer into the light. Holy shit, its all about to happen.

Jayce jumped out. “Yo, you wanted this?”

“Hell yea.” Damn I love integrated connections. “You good?” I hate leaving people hanging.

“Yea, but you stole this thing if it comes out, drugged me and left me behind. Comprende?”

“Si. Gracias mi hermana.” I look to Beauvoir. “Anais?”

“U…h….mmm.” and she appeared as Beauvoir stretched out her drunken uhmm.

“Lets do this.” and I opened the back.

“You sure about this?” of course they had doubts.

“Absofuckinglutely. Get in.”I jumped up front and changed clothes. The wagon was still running. The sisters changed as well.

“Yall ready?” My blood began to pump faster, my pupils opened up and I started with some deeper breathing, as I stepped on the gas. I flipped the coppers sirens on for a few minutes since I doubted this experience would come again soon and its always been a fantasy of mine.

“What the fuck are you doing?!?” They demanded.

“ok, ok, I’ll flip em off,” we should be a bit careful still.

“What the fuck? Dont drag this shit out, Assata.”

“chill. Its nothing. You guys ready?”

“Yea, we’re fucking ready.”
“Alright, were almost there.”

We pulled into the alley behind Madison. “Here we are.”

I used the magnetic card strip Jayce left behind to get into the lot.

Over to the left, around the 1st loading dock, and into the second.

“Oh shit. Here it is.” I had my hat pulled down tight, slightly hunched to conceal my chest, and I walked around the wagon to get the girls out. “At least pretend to have the fucking handcuffs on!” Damn it, this is the sketchiest part. “Come on ladies,” I banged the baton against the truck, pigs were always doing dumb shit like that.

I had Anais with my right arm, while I held my second set of eyes with my left for quick removal. Beauvoir followed.

It was about 3:30, the end of a long shift for the internal desk

clerk who was seated just inside the door.

“Hows the sweets?” This needed to be done very swiftly.

“Ready to explode,” Anais was with it.

I took one last deep breath and leaned forward into

the identification screen with my replicas of Officer Dave Dickowitz’s eyeballs, the main coordinator of the evidence room. He wasn’t due in for another half hour. The doors opened right up.

“Morning Dave,” fucking idiot didn’t even look up. Anais had blasted him with a cloud before he even realized that no one here was Dave, until it was too late. He smacked his head on the desk as he passed out. I quickly rewound the security tapes and hit play, showing only a minor glitch and giving us about 15 minutes.

“This way!” I shouted as I ran down the hall to the evidence room. I had grabbed doofus’ ID card and opened the evidence room with it.

“Holy Shit,” I stood there and took it all in, with the sisters absorbing it on both sides of me.

“Wow,” they were blown away as well.

“Beauvoir, get the black books! Anais, the paraphernalia! I’ll get the hard drives!” I shouted as I grabbed a box and dumped everything in.

“What the fuck are these books?” Beauvoir was talking about the stacks and volumes of literature and research that seemed to make up most of this stuff.

“Just fucking grab as much as you can, NOW! Stuff it in a box, we’ll sort through it later!” We didn’t really have that much time.

I had gotten all the digital media I could find and the ladies boxes were almost full as well and then I saw it. “Wa, wa, wa what the fuck is that?”

“A Glowing orb,” Anais acted as if she had seen one before.

“what the fuck does it… Fuck it, I’m taking it. You guys


We hurried back to the paddy wagon and put the stuff inside. I jumped up front and we zoomed out of the lot. I had arraigned for a graffiti crew to pick us up behind 4th ave and Jackson and leave the pig vehicle there. We grabbed the shit and piled into my mans white van, finally cracking smiles and a few anxious laughs.

“What the fuck is that?” It was kinda hard to not notice

the glowing orb. It was almost neon.

“I dont know yet,” kinda figuring I could find out soon.

Substitute Institute

The Institute of Substitute

“School is the advertising agency which makes you believe that you need the society as it is.” 
― Ivan Illich

Guest teacher. Thats my latest title. Not sure if the administration and high school culture is trying to phase out the idea of a substitute teacher but it does not appear on any documents. Guest does seem to have more room for respect than substitute, tho the students still alert each other when they find out before class that there is a sub. I dont think it matters much, just an interesting adjustment to a system doomed to fail itself.
I gave up my sweet shift and position at one of the coolest coffee shops around (of course I acknowledge bias, but lets be real, the valley of the sun is not swimming in fantastic hangouts… no offense if you’ve got a favorite, and no a corporate joint does not count). I mention this cause I was overdue for a… ahem…career change. I had actually typed up different cover letters and sent them off in different directions. I blame the economy (for everything), the recession (for a seemingly dried up workforce) and corporate cultural hegemony (in phoenix).

I could have tried and wasted more energy in more directions. I do still. And really, subbing is supposed to be a temporary situation. So, I’m always looking, as well as constantly trying to dream up more small business projects and hustle design along the way. Besides, once that sun hangs high in the sky the education jobs out here will be dry…
I have told a few classes of students that substitute teaching is like flipping burgers with a bachelors. Not quite the lowest you can go, but a common baseline for interested workers with a high school diploma, I mean Bachelors Degree. Lots of “retired” teachers, a few new soon to be teachers, and then just a random spread of people with bachelors degrees and no other job.
The ‘choose when I want to go in’ part is great, but sometimes its a crap shoot. Its like watching the free listing on craigslist for free junk, or bidding on an ebay item last minute while 5 other people do too. A sub job (any high school in phoenix metro) pops up on the site and sits there until someone grabs it, which is usually a few hours. You can watch the site listings at any time but most teachers call out early in the morning. Recently, I have been checking the site by phone (not an app, but at least it can be done in seconds from under the covers). So you can get a job at 6 and be expected to be at any school by 7:30. Show up with your lanyard/id, grab the attendance roster, grab security to open the classroom, and babysit, I mean teach.
To babysit teenagers is the (bad) running joke. Guest teachers are also often set up to fail, tho you cant really blame a teacher who is unexpectedly out. Often the answers are not readily available, so unless you are already familiar with all material, you have to stumble back through it with the students. Often the answer sheets are no where to be found, so if its polynomials or the unit circle, you best be up on your maths. I will try to quickly find the students who ‘get’ the material and have them help me work through the problems for the rest of the class. Sometimes, it seems that no one gets it. Sometimes theres no book to look back on and see the course of the material. Then what? Struggle? Or talk about something else, I guess.
Youtube is my ‘go to’ when we are unable to come up with any assignments, or if the work is quick or lax. It seems like every classroom in phoenix metro has computer access, a projector and some sort of sound system. I typically favor socially conscious rap or friends with music videos, but I always also encourage students to request videos. Its interesting, I had kind of assumed that lots of students already know each other and are familiar with each others interests, but that’s not the case. So sometimes, it just lets the students loosen up a bit and peer into the preferences of their peers. I don’t lean on it, but I really love having the projector option around.

I gave up on my first day. Well, in a sense. Somehow I was under the grand illusion that these students were hungry to learn and combined with my super abilities to make fun of everything and engage even the most withdrawn individual, we were gonna kill it! The demon of ignorance, that is. Or at least really enjoy our time together and learn a little something…. Maybe one thing?… Nah, fuck it.
“You smoke weed?” That’s the question I get asked the most. What am I supposed to do, lie to these guys? Is that how I can help them, by pretending that I escape the vices of our culture? Pretend that I don’t appreciate the concept of self and recreational medicating? I quit answering no. Sometimes I don’t answer. My favorite response is “why, do I smell like it?” Often I bypass the answer by mentioning the current changes in law. The first time I was asked was my 1st class, my 1st day. At least in public school. This was by the kid with the vaporizer he hit in back while I was taking attendance.
“Aye! Put the vaporizer away” I defeatedly eject, shaking my head in disbelief ever so gently, as a vapor cloud is ejected and quickly dissipates from the lungs of 1st periods class clown.
“He knows what a vaporizer is!”…they snicker to each other.
“Man, I could outsmoke your whole crew!” Just kidding… My ego is not quite that fragile.
Really I deflect questions about my personal substance abuse levels, my not so popular views against all laws pertaining to partaking, and other views I hold that are not widely embraced (yet).
It wasn’t him. He actually said hi to me later when he was with his friends, so it didnt feel like his behavior was hostile. Just defiant. It wasn’t just the other class performer either, who kept rolling around the back of class with the roller chair. I could easily win in a roller chair race too. Just kidding. But I’m not above it. I love anything that rolls. Those are the main incidents that stand out that day. The main issue though, was a general lack of interest in the subject matter. Thats where the teacher is supposed to come in. I get it. It just felt upstream. I celebrated the content. I mean shit, the content was about banks! I love banks. I mean, I hate banks, but I love talking about how fucked up they are. Andrew Jackson was kind of a badass when it comes to the bad business of banking. So I read aloud. I pointed out how important it was, and more importantly it is now, to know about money, how its controlled, and its critiques. It felt like I was out of place regarding the students and the teachers expectations. I wasn’t gonna write kids up. I wasn’t gonna stand over them and make demands about performance. So, I gave up my expectations. I still wanted to give something.
I decided to read out of the book I was reading. It happened to be Paolo Frieres “Pedagogy of the Oppressed”. I had just started reading it. I read from the intro. I wrote conscientização on the board and challenged them to say it. Then I wrote the definition and had them read it. It means critical consciousness, and more thoroughly, to be critical of society and inequality. The book encourages educators to cultivate it in students. I felt better after that.

I browsed job listings on Indeed for 2 hours right when I got home.

I had to get over the idea that I was going to teach. It can happen, just not like I imagined. I mean I was a high schooler. I didnt care that much either. Lower your expectations pard’ner. Its a job first.
Now I feel like I’m just trying to understand it all. I’m the student. I’ve been mistaken for a student by other students. The other day a principal walked in to chastise the wearing of pants a little low, and again I felt like a student. I like to think I’m a cultural anthropologist attempting to understand the limitations of schooling, here and now. Learning the structure of the system as well as the diverse interests and ways of the teenager. My interests are in facilitating the development of culture, teaching is just a part of that. I open up a lot more now. I let the students know a bit about me. Now we trade music and discuss popular culture. I’m open to learn from everyone. This is no different. Now I’m just a peer with more years. And you can see it in the heightened comfort levels of the students. Still just getting started and comfortable. I really enjoy it so much more now. I’ll handle what the teacher expects and when theres a little bit of free time, I got that covered too. I’m into education and no school can stop me.

Numbers Spiral Poster

[gview file=”http://PHOLX.COM/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/NUMBERS.pdf”]

Download and Print the Numbers Worksheet!

ocho and the numbers web

Help Ocho color the numbers web!

The Numbers Web


Turn on that 2nd Stereo (or d.A.D.D.)

“Creativity requires the courage to let go of certainties”
-Erich Fromm

“Well, its my old friend the future again; continually restoring the old face; reacquainting it with that which has yet to be.”
-Sun City Girls


oh no, dad took over the drawing table again


my block stacking ability hints at the repressed desires of an would-be architect

Though I have never been diagnosed with any attention issues, I am willing to spend time arguing about how boring things are and how much more engaging and exploratative conversation can be when jumping from subject to subject and back. Even regarding learning I find that when we leave the matters open to constant slight tangents, we make the interaction of learning more relevant and meaningful, no matter how silly the tangent may seem…. may be I would even argue that schools are failing (in the most generalized, agreed upon sense) because they are boring rather than the students home lives are hyper-stimulated through electro-media.

Anyvays….I find the constant juggling of roles and responsibilities, or the metaphorical spiraling of day-to-day engagements best handled when having the space and ability to jump from interest to interest. I say that cause I have this functional vision of spinning through a vortex of relationships, engaging with my partner, my 9 year old, my toddler, my friends, my work, my projects, my father and sister, as well as with food, drink, intoxicants, and all the other funk. I find this visualization useful cause it acknowledges the cyclic reality of habit structures. If I feel like if I was un-engaging in any of my relationships, I can address it again soon. I also see the day like this, as if our brains are spinning like the earth, handling our biz while we face the sun, until we spin some more and switch conscious states towards rest.
Some projects, I dream up with no realistic sense or situation of achieving them, for now, and they drift off into some future time when the conditions or necessary partners comes into site, often through some long drawn out triggering of unknown trajectories…

All that’s just some blab bout the manifestation of ideas and the patterns of necessary human interactions, I mention it cause we all possess deficits in attention to some things, yet we still go on with our lives and interactions. I may seriously have an attention deficit to paying bills and doing stupid shit. So we define it as a lack in amount or quality, a deficit, that is. It’s latin root describes it as wanting. Attention wanting disorder? So do we lack a want to be Attentive, or do we want to be paid attention too? Either way, my answer is still the same. Shits too boring. I blame the centralization of popular culture and non-development of local relevant culture. But really…I blame that junk for everything.
This is not why I chose to write this, damnit. I am a dad that gets bored getting kids to do boring stuff.

I often turn on a 2nd stereo with music I have picked. That may be what sparked some of this. If you have to turn on a second stereo, you may be easily bored, or your house may not be super stereo wired to kick speakers off and on in different parts of the house and yard. I guess I’m both.

wheres the dad shit? Oh, right. D.A.D.D.
So you know it takes quite some grooming and instruction to get these human types to not piss and shit themselves. Theres no set date or month but it takes almost 3 years to let go of the sweet satisfaction of shitting yourself. Say you pee 5 times a day and poo about once. That’s 1000 shits you are going to take that some other adult person/parent is going to clean off of your junk. About 5,000 bladder drains. And we think we so smart.


my creativity oozing forth through mr. potato head

Ahem, so uh, as I uh…became a dad, or whatever, haha, uhm. ..
I have my 9yold with a previous partner and we did cloth diapers back then and homebirthed her and gave her, her own last name. With my partner now, we also homebirthed, are doing cloth diapers, and gave her the same last name as her sister. When Azs was in diapers, we had a cloth service that would pick up a giant bag of shitty diapers 2 and 3 times a week. It could sit on the doorstep for a few hours in the sun before the diaper fairy would snatch them. I cant imagine why that went out of business. This time around, we are washing them at home in the wash. Its normally no big deal, but we are almost 2 years deep into this and the other day I (hope I) hit one edge of the extremes.

Now when I dad-out or bond with other stay-at-home-moms, we relate on this basic level of dread when discussing the cleaning of diapers. Its mostly left at that, the gory details are left unspoken like the idiosyncrasies of your own bowel movements. I want to point out though, that unless you have hand washed the “fiber,” or the shit off of a dirty diaper in shit water with your bare hands daily, your diaper woes just aint the same.
You can kind of cue in to the behaviors and expressions of your toddlers, develop a pattern of food intake and output, but not always. I think this baby dumps 1 every 21 hours or so. I bring it up to this babe, Indy, and often she responds acknowledging but not excepting.
“Are you wet?”
Defiantly, and definitely, “No.”
“Do you need a diaper change?”
without pause, “No.”
I do not make it a big deal, nor do I reprimand. I’m just aiming for understanding.
You also have night time diaper changes where the parents/partners try to do the least amount of work as possible…often a quick, prepped change, with the soiled shorts finding a temporary home on the floor until morning when you actually admit you have to get up and do things. In between the quick change and the standard changing table change is a giant grey area with a number of variables. Its an extra sketchy situation when two drowsy adults experience a “night poop” and have to be brought form out of a dead sleep and hastily handle wiping unexpected shit off of a sleepy baby.

The other day while moms was scrambling to get dressed, done, and out the door, I dropped the baby onto the bed for a quick change, popped the snaps open to handle one of the quickest changes ever, only to reveal a heap of dark fibrous stank.
Fuck. I panicked and tried to contain the funk within the diaper, yet the baby who was already squirmy, quickly smacked her hands into it.
“Ahhh!!! Moma, I need help. Fast” darting to the bathroom, she had already smeared her mud paste onto the sleeves of my light grey sweater and her shirt as well. I felt like I was tasked with disarming a bomb and it had already gone wrong. Red wire, green wire. Fuck! I’m holding a shitty diaper with the surface spread of a half jar of chunky peanut butter, an irritated baby with a contagious stanky funk coating her grasp, wearing a contaminated sweater, feeling like a helpless confused puritan unable to fathom the next step towards soul sanitation. I was caught cursing the function of processing organic matter and our desire to shit ourselves. I doubt I could have handled this shitty situation if moms hadn’t grabbed the baby and threw her into the tub. Finally, sense was restored in the universe and this disastrophe had reached the final scenes.
While I am interested in carrying-on about funny and silly interactions between me and the tiny, we are already 1200 words deep and theres a few diapers I must be washing…

Dumperfoo Interview by Phil Freedom


The visual design arm and live artist of the Insects, Drunken Immortals, and Crusher Sound System, the chief organizer of the Blunt Club, and all around move maker in the underground scene, is Adam Dumper. He has helped create and evolve the role of artist at live shows, while honing in on his own skills, and minimizing his production time to partial hip hop sets. Dumperfoo is a heavy weight of the culture in Arizona and plans to keep pace while surpassing all endeavors and benchmarks of yesteryear. Since we are featuring the Insects, its only natural to have this productive machine be the featured artist. I tracked him down in his studio where he gave me a few minutes between his monstrous agenda to cover canvas.



So whats happening now?

I got a show on Fri at the Alta space lofts. me and Jeremy Arviso…we are releasing his clothing company, Noble Savage.

did you say you had 15 Canvases for the show…

yeah but ill probably end up with half that due to my schedule and time…

and then a dozen more for the sxsw trip?
yeah we’ll be gone for 2 week and ill’ have to do 1 or two a day. on the friday we are there in austin i’ve got like four shows?
with insects? yeah and few other shows

so since we did this last (hidden agenda 5) you were doing mostly skulls but since then you’ve really expanded and been doing so much more…? how do you advance your styles?

i am just trying to keep it more versatile…i’m trying to get these girls faces, the hard shadows and the lighting down and different looks…people like em so i been doing a lot more…  how do you train yourself to do the shadows and lights…just singling out where you want the shadow and figure out where the light is coming from. you know, i’ve never been taught that, i’m just figuring it out on my own.
still trying to keep it versatile and do a lot of different stuff…dumpsgirl2

this show thats coming up this month is called Oji San which means old man or uncle…the calligraphy from the flyer is done by a famous Japanese calligraphist…(Aoi Yamaguchi)

how do you feel that painting live has helped you progress..?

when painting live i have to make sure that everything is on point and less sloppy…i got like 20 mins to an hour to paint this shit live and i have to make sure its clean and presentable as a final product…its all part of the show.

not much time to think about it then…?

nah, gotta have it mapped out in advance in my head, we only got like 20 mins to set up and i gotta get up there and handle it. sometimes i dont have the right colors and i just gotta improvise and make the colors that i have work, by mixing them or adding white or black tints to them…by adding black or white tints to get different shades…

do you use an image reference?

Yeah, definitely, i use images of models faces or girl with distinguishing features. i can also do it off the top of my head now…by doing them so often i can just do my own style without reference.

have you switched to mostly paint now from markers?

yeah try to keep it all brush work, specially for my gallery stuff.dumpsgirl3

do you have a photo of every piece?

no…i try to and sometimes i sell them before i get to snap a pic…been kinda slippin on that…but thats ok…some people snap pics and tag me on them or show me later…
lately i have John Carbis or AWALL travelling around with me and taking pics documenting them…so i’m blessed to have great photographers
documenting what i do…purpleface

so blunt clubs been running for 10 years now…

yeah may 19th is the anniversary party…
what ares some of the issues u face when running a weekly?
staying up with the calendar…with my busy schedule and trying to do that…getting fresh acts to play and finding a formula that works…but aftr ten years it almost runs itself…much easier now…Pickster and element have partnerred up and help handle booking and such…

why do you do it?

i love my thursday nights…my friends that are there…i do it for them and me…I’ve always been a fan of hiphop and graffiti…we built it from the ground up and it just fresher every week. and i just cant see myself not doing it…i cant even keep up with the new ideas that w haven’t even touched on…

we been trying to do it in other cities now too…just one offs with other nites that are similar.

like in LA?
yeah LA, San Diego, we got some people asking about doing it in Denver.

how do feel that the art scene and the hiphop scene relate to the overall economy and society?

i think since the economy has gone down…the performance acts guarantees have gone down…and i think its just tough on people touring..cause they are not getting what they used to get…and thats why we went to a no cover kinda thing…people dont wanna pay a ten dollar cover anymore…

when it was at club red we were trying to do national acts weekly…and then we were trying to do two rooms and both sides and it just cost quite a bit of money and then w had payed some acts that didnt come thru but kept the money, and it jusdumperskullt put us thousands of dollars in the hole. and then it didnt seem people were feelin the big room…so we moved it to yucca tap room and were able clear the debts and get out of the hole…

how do you think the arts scenes can help motivate society?

there’s a strong support for benefit shows for people in binds financially…people coming together..i love that about arizona…theres lots of love in the community out here…

what about 2012? big plans?dumpsbluntskull

just trying to get my stuff super clean and tight. just trying to do art full time.
..i’m pretty much three…and then just hyped about the new insects album…just doing some tours with that too…

are you afraid of the apocalypse?

nah. bring it. I’ve had a good life.

Djentrification Interview

Were you born in phoenix?


Do both of your parents still live here?

In the state.

I saw your dads show at alwun house a few months back and talked with him…he had so much art…it was amazing…all that time batiking…

was he always doing art when you were young?

Yeah, he was. I saw a lot of different mediums…he would make t-shirts for my family. Like crazy pancho villa shirts or shirts with kubla khan. He would do silk screens by cutting the design into wax paper. He would lay it on the silkscreeen and screen it backwards, sticking the stencil to the front of the screen.

Isnt your mom an artist too?

I would say that she is. She makes quilts and sews.

They were both into textiles…?

yeah they worked together on some things like that.

So is there some particular moment when you started doing art?

In school I used to draw..

like what?

I remember drawing some battles between aliens and knights or soldiers. The girl sitting in front of me in class turned around and told me to shut up cause I was making explosions… sound effects for my drawings…i was completely unaware of it and embarrassed by it…


Was it your dad?

Nah…just for the cool imagery.


Whats your take on aliens?

I think theres lots of different life in this world.

One time up north in the mountains, I saw a thing that looked like a huge amoeba, transparent, floating along the rocks. Other people saw it too.

What did you think about?

It looked like something that made sense as a lifeform on this planet, like something that you would see at the bottom of the ocean on national geographic. Recently, I googled, researching keywords to see if anyone else had seen anything like this. I found one person that described something very similar but that was it.

In the states?
Cant recall where. And it could have been BS anyways.

Is that the image we see in your art?
no, the star eye is what your thinking of. I had never seen a star with an eye drawn in it. I wanted to draw it cause I had never seen it before.  I was drawing it and Pablo showed me a similar symbol, an Aztec symbol, called Olin. It’s a symbol of movement.

how do feel about street art?
I’m always making jokes about “street art” with my friend brez. I like graffiti more.
what do you mean?
a lot of street art nowadays, since its become popular  is contrived. They’re trying to use it to get money in a gallery. Not everyone, but some people. They’ll do their 3 little pieces on Roosevelt, wheatpastes or whatever and they’ll take 20 different photographs of it. And then they’ll post them on the internet or their blog. It doesnt upset me or concern me. I’m happy that people express themselves. But theres’ street taggers that I have more respect for.  It’s a mixed bag. Its not black and white. I really do enjoy just going around the city and seeing all the different types of creativity. I really like hand painted signs on buildings…like for the lettering. I enjoy many things that can be seen around. I saw some cool little funky half finished mural by the youth hostel the other day cutting through the alley. There are some fresh burners by the seventh ave bridge right now-big colorful pieces, without  permission. I like seeing all of it.

how do you feel about legal versus illegal art?
Some of the most exciting expressions you are going to see around the city…and this is just my opinion… I enjoy seeing expression where you don’t expect it. Now that can be a train yard, it can be a billboard, it can be a building that’s fenced up and about to be knocked down and someone snuck in and did their very best. And I enjoy that type of stuff a lot. And theres also murals where people have permission and they did their very best, and I enjoy that stuff too. And sometimes theres stuff that’s so ugly horrible, and just pathetic and I enjoy that stuff too. Theres some super horrible graffiti on a rooftop near 18th st and mcdowell and its hilarious. Or right now on carlys…on the west side of the building…half the wall fell off..removing the bottom half of the face…someone else came and drew the most jacked up looking alligator mouth over it…its amazing.

yeah, I kinda wondered what was up with that.

what is it about seeing this expression that you appreciate?

I think I appreciate everything about it. Its an honor to get to express things , to get to see anothers expression or hear it. Also the combinations seem limitless. I’m just really thankful for it. This makes me think of marios feasts and how he expresses himself through cooking…

do you think that’s theres a lack of expression overall in society?
certainly there are people that feel unable to express themselves-I hope for people that they can! But basic needs: food, clothing, shelter,mental health….these are before abstract expression in a ‘hierarchy of needs’. Im thankful to get to hear folks say what their story is. I had a dream recently where my ears had turned into the “olins’ we mentioned before. it was funny.

When did you start spinning records or getting into music?

I have loved music since I was a kid. I feel really lucky my folks were into strange music, they went to India before I was born. I heard crazy music from them growing up, a lot of it bugged me, but then grew on me later. There were crazy Jamaican records, stuff like ‘big youth’ ..ska compilations (I still have and play these, one has the song ‘phoenix city” on it) I had weird local new wave stuff right there in the house, this was middle and early 80’s…late seventies. I got into more sound experiment stuff by the time I was 12/13 I would use many tape recorders to make collages with sounds. My uncle terry showed me how to cover the magnet on the tape recorder. It makes it so you can record over the last layer, gradually building up layers like a rudimentary 4 track-a couple of years later I was finding out about psychic tv and their ‘experiments’ with sound and intention. It was when they came here in the early/middle 80’s. It really struck a cord with me. I kept getting interested in experimental music… right out punk stuff…Im kind of an old skater-punk really. I was getting grounded for going to JFA as a twelve yr old… this was later getting into this strange sound collage stuff.

So later, around the year 1998 or so, I had gotten a turntable by accident and I was trying to make a tape collage or a mix tape but using beats and records that I had. It was much harder and then I remembered all my DJ friends from the early 90’stalking about beat matching. I’ve always hated the idea of counting beats. I never wanted to do that, and I don’t. I was trying to make a tape to listen to just for when I would come back from these really long walks around the city late at night. What I didn’t realize was I needed to learn how to DJ to make that tape right. It was music like DJ Krush and Hive… Vadim. One day I just heard how these two songs went together in my head and then I was able to begin learning how to do it. I never wanted to be the dj guy but we started having parties for ourselves in the neighborhoods downtown and I was asked to do it from other people and it just kinda kept going. I feel like it kinda chose me.

how do stay up on internationall music and why is that important?
From word of mouth… People telling me about stuff.  From just diggin records and finding records….And those records leading me to search more for those kinds of music. From stuff my parents exposed me to and from traveling. And just like everyone else…using the internet and learning from other peoples research. Why its important to me…number 1 its educational to know about other peoples expression from around the world. Its transcendent beyond language barriers many times. You can get a feeling hearing some music from another country even if it has no words. Another reason its important to me is that I feel like music has this incredible quality or effect of connecting people. I don’t care what kind of music it is…I’m pretty certain that its doing it most of the time.

How/why the name djentrification?

It was the early 2000’s…things were changing downtown…there were new people coming in…developers telling us that they were gonna bring life to downtown phoenix. But there was already tons of different kinds of life down here. There had been for…well since …did you know they found ruins from 3000 years ago in downtown phoenix? Ask brez about it. Anyhow, these new developers were primarily interested in profit more than actual revitalization from downtown people, neighborhoods, and kids. I learned that this was called gentrification so I was putting this word out there so that more people would have to learn the word, its been a pain in the ass as a dj name, folks always screw it’s funny dj gentrification, dj entrification, aiy yai yai..its funny so I figured some kid, they might see it, learn the word, and study it later, they might find a solution. Also djentrification represents the opposite force-it was a play on words, kind of a joke. anyhooooow.

How can that force be active or do you think that it can? say like blight…
I don’t really think of like that…it doesn’t have to be blight or unaffordable…it can be something in the middle.
Are you speaking mostly about rents? Really now with the economy…it is degentrifying…rents are going down in some cases…home prices have dropped. But so has everyones income…most peoples I guess…but I’m really not an expert in this realm.

it seems like a lot of your energy is focused on events or constructing social functions, like the weekly at  602sdays at Bikini or the park jams…do you think that is one of the most vital actions of a vibrant culture?
I honestly don’t think about it in those terms…sometimes I have so much stuff to focus on…like making flyers and moving speakers, working on a set, making burritos, I don’t think in those abstract terms about these things. Maybe I should more.
I feel like when you stand back and look at things you see this trajectory of happenings and they form themes and threads.
I am interested in the currents and connections becoming stronger here through communication, celebration, expression. I want parties where anyone feels welcome there. I want parties where people can afford to get in. to have park jams in the neighborhood…it just makes sense. Phoenix is really Do-It-Yourself from how I saw it growing up here. You cant wait for someone to come and make something for you…that might never happen. And some people will only make it affordable to rich people…and we should just do what we can. Theres a lot of people here doing things and I’m excited about it. From the indigenous, the original people, to people that just moved here from Afghanistan. Part of the reason I’m excited about the Palace parties at the film bar is to have international beat parties here, just for the music and the party, but also to try and bring a focus on all the different international culture here in the valley.

Why do you feel its so important to acknowledge and appreciate the local culture?
for one,  just out of respect. 2. curiosity ,I don’t care where I was, I would be curious to learn something. its like seeds I guess, water them, that way too for the young people, and to try and learn about things that have gone down ,one can learn from our elders as well. Theres’ many different aspects to this place.  The lands, right here in Phoenix are O’odham lands… the mountains-theres’ culture here. Maybe its not out in front how folks are used to it some places, but it’s the desert. you have to wait till dark or look under rocks is how I used to tell folks, I could be deluding myself, but I feel like no matter where one is in this world there is something one can learn.
PS. Respect South Mountain and much respect to all my relations.