Mark NaclerioJuly 2001

7/30/2001: A word to the wise: Don't drive on interstate 95 between CT and DC. Especially if it is raining. Once again I got first hand experience this weekend about how there are too many cars on the highways driven by morons. I also lost my CB radio to some opportunist who found my car open at night in a nice residential neighborhood outside of DC. Just one more incident that firms my resolve to leave the rotten megalopolis behind for a small town where everybody knows eachother and there is still some respect for personal property. I guess I shouldn't care, though. After all, in an ideal existence I have no need for material things. But now I can't listen to the truckers who always know where the highway patrol are and why traffic is backed up for as far as the eye can see.

Because I forgot my train pass this morning and the conductor didn't make it to the car I was on by the time we got to Harlem-125th street, I took the opportunity to do something different and got off the train to walk down 125th street to the subway that passes the building where I work. It just happened to be the day that former president Clinton moved into his new office. Although I didn't get to see anybody important, it's always fun to witness the spectacle surrounding these type of events. Cameras and supporters and plenty of men in uniform. When I got off the subway I ran into my cousin in a place where neither of us would normally be except due to today's circumstances. Coincidence #3 in one week.

I recently got some photos back from my trip with Tom in 1998 across country. I'll have them up on the site by next month.
In four days I will be on a plane to Utah. I hope to climb Mount Olympus this time.

7/29/2001: Rent Traffic. It has a compelling story, natural sounding dialogue, great acting, and a message that cannot be ignored. That is, the war on drugs will not be won so long as the demand for consumption exists. My only request for the sequel (which I doubt there will be one) is that the film production crew use tripods. Too much handheld camera work makes me sea-sick.

7/27/2001: I had the very interesting experience of working at MTV for a day. I also auditioned for a band but don't think that I suited their needs. One of the guys said that I looked like Jimmy Page and he is probably the seventh or eight person to tell me that. I guess I won't be confused with Donny Osmond anymore.

7/23/2001: Every so often I am reminded of the mortal nature of human life. It rarely happens expectedly. Growing up was mostly fun and games. Death was misunderstood. Intimate connections matured and fear of loss and death became a reality, mostly ignored - reluctantly accepting that nothing remains permanent. All the time spent in a life vanishes in an instant with nothing left but feeling emptiness. During this past week another family member was given his ticket out of here without early notice. I am sad mostly for my cousins who did not have as much time as they would have liked with their father. And I am sad that another important figure in my developement is now only a memory.

Always be at peace and in good communication with family and the people who are important. Because they might not be there tomorrow and you might be regretful for not having been able to say all the things that you would want them to know.

I miss you Uncle. I miss the camping trips, the big voice and good humor.

7/19/2001: Well, I knew that it was bound to happen at some point: the MP3 Archive at is no longer available because they will not maintain mp3 files any longer. I guess I'll have to get more web space from somewhere else. Any suggestions?

I have also been informed that Final Fantasy isn't worth the price of admission. I could say the same about A.I.

7/18/2001: I got to jam last night with some fun guys. By the end of the night, with a run at every instrument that was set up there, my fingers were destroyed. But there is truly no greater feeling than when making sound. True musical bliss. My fingers are blistered and sore but it was worth it.

7/17/2001: One of my fellow employees was asked to leave yesterday because he accidentally broadcasted while he was zooming in on some girl's chest. Too bad. I thought he was a cool guy. It's true: men are perverts to the core. I also discovered that I can see exceptionally well in the dark as I was riding the motorcycle through the woods last evening without the benefit of headlights.

7/16/2001: Teddy 7 tied the knot. Weekend and family BBQ with Phil and the kids. I also saw my cousin whom I haven't seen in 13 years or so which was weird because I didn't know it at first.

Raspberries are exceptional this year. I can't get enough of them.

I guess the world does not revolve around me all of the time. Apparently, the policeman who was driving through the neighborhood the other day wasn't looking for rogue motocross riders. Instead, he was assigned to drive around for the day because some persons (punk kids, no doubt) were reported to have been blowing up mailboxes, with surplus fireworks that didn't make it for the Fourth I presume. So I guess that I should remove the curse I put on the people down the street.

7/13/2001: FRIDAY the 13th. Corporate America is full of lackluster asskissers who care more about appearances and controversy than truth in matters. Seemingly insignificant events work their way up the chain and become monstrous nightmares. Yesterday, I had the simple task of playing a video tape that had minor sound problems. By the time I got to work today it had become an issue as if I had personnally ruined the whole presentation for what was at most 17 seconds of a poorly copied VHS tape. The result was hours of discussion and unnecessary tension. Somebody needs to explain that to me: how 17 seconds can become several hours worth of talking back and forth about who said what, who did what, what we are supposed to do in the future, etc., etc,. ad infinitum. Why not just fix the tape and move on? Everybody wants to point fingers.
I hope that if there is an afterlife that the whole lot of assholes that I deal with daily are made to lick the lint from my asscrack! I am pissed off at how much nonsense is treated so seriously. All complainers should get cancer of the larynx and die. Not to mention the people down the street from where I live who called the police because I was out tooling around on the motorcycle again. Whatever happened to the idea of 'no harm, no foul'? Are people lives so pathetic that their only satisfaction comes from bringing other people down? If I was the angel of death, I would take them all slowly and painfully. But because I am just a man I'll just sit and stew for a while. Because in the long run it doesn't really matter much anyway except that I am tired of other people wanting to keep me down. FUCK YOU CORPORATE AMERICA!!!

7/10/2001: For those of your that actually keep track of this website you will have noticed few entries or changes over the last month. While I have intended to update it more frequently I haven't had much free time to devote to the site. And, as everyone knows: Time is valuable. Time is money. And by that logic having no time is like having no money. But what do we need money for anyway? If time permits: Food. Shelter. Lap dances? For twenty dollars a stranger will bump and grind a person in a seemingly intimate and artificially sexual manner for a couple of minutes or less. The payor intends to receive a satisfying sense of arousal, much like the effects of a drug although if there is a drug out there that lasts only a couple of minutes for $20 I don't think that it's trading frequently. As for the lap dance, there will certainly be a line of guys, and some women too, that are just waiting to take a turn for a dance, a forbidden dance!, with a stranger for the sake of wanting satisfaction. But who is most satisfied by the expense? Is it the payor? Is it the dancer? Or is it the mafioso looking thug that ends up with the all twenty dollar bills in the end? The sensible alternatives: Twenty dollars will rent a room for the night in Brazil, Indiana. Twenty dollars can also be used to purchase 5 apples, 3 bananas, whole grain cereal, juice, soymilk, lettuce, tomatoes, and noodles, with a few cents left over for a nice bar of chocolate for desert. Thanks, but I'll go for a big bucket of fresh cherries if I get the chance, instead. How will you spend your next twenty dollars?

John Zehn has some new music in the works unlike anything ever heard before by mortals, including a version of Stairway to Heaven that is sure to upset some people. The project probably won't be completed until later this year but check back for updates that get posted. The MP3 page is currently under reconstruction to accomodate some of the new music and a new venue for advertising is in the works. Summer is always a busy time so have fun while you can. Viva zapatas. Viva life!

January to June 2001