The Meatrix & The Common Sense GPS

Back when I birthed this “blog” it was more of an experimental outlet, another kilowatt of power to an already reasonably prolific creative machine, but that’s been discussed at great length so I won’t drop the gears back and make you sit in that exhaust once more. Just the same, some things bear repeating, especially when trying to dust off the engine and get it running again. After a fluid check, I may have the unit road worthy but not much more, it certainly wouldn’t pass any inspections along the way but it may serve to get me from point A to point B, if all goes well and if you’re willing to come along for the ride.

I adopted the Urban Cannibal moniker to try and look at things from another perverted perspective, split the atom so to speak, not so much of a self reflective cell but one that’s aware of the other enough to comment on behalf of the other while injecting some new twists to the development phase. Somewhere along the way it took on a life on its own, as life often does, and the whole experiment became overtly personal as wave upon wave of “lifestuff” piled up in the arteries forcing me to address them whether I wanted to or not… and then my son came along.


A baby cannibal does everything he’s supposed to; he fills enough diapers to satiate an excrement eating whale, laughs at every little thing his dad does like the most amusement starved studio audience and makes you think about things before you do them. Who the hell brought that bitch “Consequence” to the party? I promise I won’t start droning on about my own mortality and whatnot, that casket’s been closed for quite some time, but since this space is one for self indulgence I’ll just say this; his voice is pretty loud for a little guy who can’t even speak.

OOooOO pretty deep, eh? Whenever I’m about to venture off into something overtly stupid, this big little voice chimes in to reel me back in and plot the safe route for me. A common sense GPS, something that I’ve been missing out on for quite some time from the looks of things. It’s one of those “had been lost for so long that I figured I knew where I was” clichés, like “The Matrix”, but in a cannibal’s case perhaps “The Meatrix” if you will: “Tank! I need an exit!”

That being said, I am still entitled to my own unfiltered voice, so to speak, am I not? Say what I need to without thinking that I’m raining shame upon him in any way? Certainly I can’t be expected completely alter my way of thinking much less the way I present such things or do I?