30 March 2025

conceptualizing scoreboard heaven


my friend Eliana convinced me to take a course this semester on the Commedia, an 100-canto expression of Dante Alighieri’s singular vision of the afterlife, from the depths of the inferno to the heights of the paradiso. the work essentially birthed the modern italian language, and is a revolutionary example of a literary “hero’s journey:” it recently came up as a contender for the “most important secular text” in a debate amongst me and my peers. midway through our class reading of the work, I’ve been taken by how personal Dante’s vision of an afterlife is, incorporating christian, secular, and pagan mythos into his providential journey. 


though I’m confirmed in the Catholic church, i’ve always been far from devout, and have probably racked up a laundry list of affronts to the Man Upstairs in the formative half-decade since I last stepped foot in a church. my close reading of the Commedia has sparked my first spiritual thinking in a long time, in that it reminded me of my own conception of heaven: one I have irregularly thought about for years and could potentially turn to when in need of a broader sort of spiritual guidance.


it is my hope that when we die, a benevolent God allows us all to see the entire scope of our lives done in statistics, lit up in front of us on a matrix screen like a giant scoreboard. one could scroll through such a menu and instantly know how many times they ate at mcDonalds, skipped “fortunate son” in a spotify queue, truly “understood” a work of art, blinked, breathed, coughed, kissed, banged, or saw a pigeon with divine accuracy. past such banalities would lie statistics of greater interest: one would know the names of all their missed connections, the secret opinions of those closest to them, and would be provided with the exact name, dates, and life story of the person who is considered their soulmate (assuming they aren’t of the lucky few who met such a person in life). 


it would take a long time to digest such things. there’d be the pain of knowing the exact day you bought a lottery ticket one away from the jackpot winner, and the grief of knowing your mother’s last thought about you before she died. God bestowed all in scoreboard heaven with the ability to eventually settle with their actions- when one finally accepts that they couldn’t have changed any statistic presented to them, and ties up all the mental-loose-ends that would torture them upon discovering statistics of interest, they’ll reach a state of self-actualization i’ll call the Knowing, and be mercifully purged of all suffering in a second Death, which would essentially be the true end of their existence. everything would go black after such self-actualization, similar to one’s eventual escape from the cycle of samsara in Hinduism. in my estimation, this process of understanding would take about 1000 years of sitting with the scoreboard for me. i’d imagine those who are especially self-loathing may take up to 8000 years to Know themselves.


scoreboard heaven concerns itself with sin just as much as virtue, with both ultimately being judged by the beholder, rather than by God, whose sole job is presenting souls with their life statistics. the process of reaching the Knowing is similar to Dante’s view of purgation: those who sinned would be forced to mentally download the exact number of times they masturbated, cheated on a partner, dealt heroin, or lied to their dear mothers, and are forced to come to terms with their actions before they can die their second Death. some may complain that this vision of heaven doesn’t adequately punish those who did sinned in life, as there’s no “hell” for the wicked, but the “heaven” part of my afterlife is perhaps a misnomer: the sinful aren’t explicitly forgiven for their sins, nor are they rewarded with any type of heaven after reaching the Knowing (for the second Death is the absence of life itself).


the lack of judgement on this God’s behalf is probably its biggest divulsion from a Christian God, but i’d argue that the scoreboard heaven God is still reminiscent of the Christian God in the mercy it exhibits towards all who have reached the afterlife. scoreboard heaven assumes that everyone has the capacity to self-actualize, and that sinners have an understanding of their immoral actions as sin; the wicked are technically punished in that this process of Knowing requires them to come to terms with their sin while still possessing a moral compass, and it would obviously take them longer to undergo their self-actualization than a good-natured person, who would have much less baggage to sort out in the process of reaching the Knowing.


i like the idea of a soul’s existence ending with complete knowledge of itself. if all of this sounds pretentious to you, you can write it off as a vague literary exercise in worldbuilding. with our world growing increasingly absurd, it’s fun and inspiring to conceptualize visions of an “after,” another world with its own whims and rules. though i still subscribe to Catholicism as my religion, i find value in holding some personal tenets in my vision of spirituality. after all, literary tradition still values works like Dante’s: visions of the afterlife that combine different aspects of one’s personal connections to the physical world to form an individualized whole.



13 January 2025

made these while very sick and bedridden january 2025


            
deep, empty, star-strattled
oven at 350
"i love yous" pouring out from sparrows' mouths
all i know about wilderness comes from behind windows
                                                                                                             
 works completed jan 6-9 2025
                                     ink & alcohol marker on paper

30 December 2024

happy new year 2015


my life since my last entry has been pretty uneventful. i had a nice christmas with the family and bought a bunch of things. the best thing going for me right now are these oakley sunglasses i got for xmas. they're round and make me look like doc ock.

i'm writing this on the 30th, so now's the time to think about old man time and decide what to bring into the new year, my nineteenth on this planet. i foresee 2025 as being a really good year compared to this one, which was intense and maybe too educational for my tastes. on the geopolitical level i'm not as confident things are going to shake out okay, but i'm trying to fight off the "we're so fucked" attitude for as long as i can.

i made a 'ins and outs' list on my private story the other day and am already kinda embarrassed of it. those lists on the whole might be "out." they're always kind of pretentious and include shit like "iambic pentameter" in the "ins." i myself tried to sneak in "barcelona as a concept" on mine. what the fuck does that even mean? ridiculous pastime. 

i'm going to hold myself to my new years resolutions this year. resolutions are the old-fashioned way of sharing your "ins," i suppose. 

in 2025 i will:
-think about italy a lot.
-listen to more neil young albums.
-be kinder to myself about making music.
-read 10 books. i readily admit i am a fake reader and can probably count the number of books i've read over the last two years that weren't for school or about bands on one hand. please recommend me books to read.
-buy a cowboy shirt. 
-try my hand at a short film/documentary.
-use my espresso machine more (this will probably coincide with "think about italy a lot").
-play the drums in a band again. if any of you could help me to that end, let me know.
-try to attend or host dinner parties. this will encourage me to cook and prep me for the domestic role i'll assume when i marry a breadwinning european model someday.
-increase my attention span by going for long walks without airpods in. this one may be challenging.

over all else, i hope to get better at being unapologetically loud in 2025. i've learned that quieting down for people is difficult for me, and softening my edges doesn't really make me any more palatable to people. i'm probably going to have to remind myself of that weekly for much of the year, but we are all works in progress blah blah blah et cetera. 

enough public contemplation- i've just reached my quota for the year. here's what will play my 2024 out.

runner - alex g
taylor hall, 24.11.13
emergency turn off - all natural lemon & lime flavors
soon - my bloody valentine
room mate - lizzy mercier descloux
four words - brittle stars
pinch and roll - hum
anthems - charli xcx
frittering - mercury rev
star sign - teenage fanclub
forsythia - veruca salt






18 December 2024

untitled


it's the moondrunk promises you made at seventeen,
the blood-orange evening glow that stains yr white shirts tan
the chutes and ladders, the panic and wonder
yr head on the lap of a pregnant green field

it's the lips of the girl you met tonight 
the halfhour gaze that tied you together
the cutting of the string with a goodbye kiss
the longing that lingers for something underneath

it's the promise this'll all happen again
the crush you develop on what disenchants you
the funhouse mirrorself you see in yr reflection
he meets your gaze but stares right past you

poem 24.12.15

the great wonder


 Violet Oakley's Lesbian Bible. A famous muralist painted 'God'—with a… | by  Jonathan Poletti | I blog God. | Medium


central panel from 'the great wonder: a vision of apocalypse," violet oakley, 1924.

this thing is in vassar's alumni house and is cool as fuck. makes reference to revelations 12:1, a bright spot in the apocolypse

26 November 2024

the second coming of j spelledwrong, nov 2024


fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck... i kept waiting and waiting to finally make my first post here after starting college; there's been at least fourteen myhumantruth posts in every shadow of every day at vassar, so i just started keeping a daily journal from day 1 (less technology to worry about) and kind of let this blog fall to the wayside. at least i never stopped writing?

damn shame, really, as this semester has been a well of inspiration. the so-called 'college experience' has ushered in a big shift in my creative life, not only through new daytoday experiences, but through the life-shattering change to my personal life back home that accompanied it. i've already written about a dozen songs since i've gotten here, half for autumn rhythm and half for the new vassar teenpop group anodyne. being 18 and alone and alienated or whatever makes it really easy to find things to write songs about, and having friends to work on them with is a lot of fun.

i'm not really used to being around other artist kids. for whatever reason, i previously thought vassar would be full of poindexter 930bedtime-types because of its academic reputation. i guess we have our strict academics, but it's much more common for my peers to be into making music, movies, art, clothes, poems, and what-have-you, or to simply make esoteric instagram posts that hint they do those types of things. very liberal artsy, very not long islandy. refreshing. i've met a lot of interesting folks that have already changed the way i view the artistic process, and i'm downright stunned by some of the stuff my classmates make and do. very grateful to know these people. making a lot of friends quickly. obviously being around so much teenage art accounts for the music hotstreak. 

so too does the material i've been poring over for my classes- i'm taking courses that mostly concern themselves with historical art and literature, with an emphasis on the medieval, a period i hadn't previously concerned myself with studying. an especially good course has been 'allegories of the self,' which is my required first-year writing seminar. we've gone through illuminating allegories by plato, prudentius, apuleius, and a host of other guys with just one name. the course also introduced me to what has surely become my favorite movie, ingmar bergman's seventh seal. it's visually stunning- all lights, darks, and the whites of the characters' eyes- and has a lot to say in 90 minutes about life, death, religion, and our impermanence. it's free on youtube. i'm about to do my final project on it. look at me, enjoying midcentury foreign film. i can almost hear your eyes roll from over here!

i've discovered i don't really know that much about anything. being an adult has meant i've had to confront the fact that i really didn't and don't know shit about life or love. does my tuition go towards learning about those things?

this is already getting too long and too full of itself, so i'll leave a few updates on my recent personal affairs here as non-sequiturs. i landed a job for WVKR, our campus radio station (and a RADIO SHOW!!! our secret, 3-4pm saturdays.). i'm thinking about getting some tattoos. i climbed up on a roof and saw the northern lights on october 10, 2024- i couldn't fathom the sky turning that color beforehand.

what a long fucking entry. clearly i'm making up for lost time...

songs that have meant something at some point this semester:

people - silver jews
girl boy - blonde redhead
tastes just like it costs - mj lenderman
the boy with the arab strap - belle & sebastian
left of the dial - replacements
distopian dream girl - built to spill
our secret - beat happening
katy song - red house painters
isis - bob dylan
war on war - wilco
eye know - de la soul
nothing left to say - tram

fraction of our friends on lillie & mars' wall, 24.9.1

we carve idols out of our fear


The Seventh Seal (1957) - Photos - IMDb

still from 'the seventh seal', ingmar bergman, 1957

09 August 2024

on self-portraits

tonight something possessed me to sketch out a few self-portraits, things i don't think to take the time to draw very often. some resembled me greatly;

others were self-portraits in name only, non-representational art whose lines only constituted portraiture by the purpose i gave them.

in 21 days, i'll be considered an adult man in the eyes of the law (well, someone who can legally get a tattoo, anyway). in all other ways, i've already undergone the transition from 'boy' to 'man.' i stopped crying at school. i was confirmed into the catholic church. i fell in love and kissed a girl. i went to highschool parties and watched drunken classmates flounder around backyard pools. i was offered weed and cigarettes backstage and labored over my "no"s. i graduated highschool. i learned to drive a car. i got over my fear of rollercoasters.

however, i've recently felt more like a 'boy' than ever. aren't i supposed to have more a sense of who i am by this point? maybe. not really...

as i mentally prepare for college, i've realized that i, like everyone else my age, am at the precipice of redefining my identity. i've taken some solace in that communal change. now's the time for me to figure out what kind of 'man' i want to become in college and as an adult. i think my childhood has cemented my hobbies, my interests, some of my wants; now, my values will be stretched and edited and redefined by whatever i experience next. i'm sure i'll shed old skin and find new parts of myself living on my own. the self-portraits i create 4 years down the line may look much different than the ones i drew tonight. they may be songs or poems or films.

here's what i've been listening to feel a little less small:

in this home on ice - clap your hands say yeah
stampede - hotline tnt
range life - pavement
girl boy - blond redhead
like dylan in the movies - belle & sebastian
aaron & maria - the american analog set
my kimono - polvo
house of cards - radiohead
belly - eric's trip
donna air - dean blunt
see - villagerrr


31 July 2024

transcription of a dream i had


in my dream i observe myself in the third person, through a grainy film cameralense:

i'm flying, fully extending my wingspan like a bird, and keeping my feet together and toes pointed. i'm going around the circular bin of an aqua-colored water tower not unlike the one off blueberry lane. i don't recall what i'm wearing, or seeing my face, or even watching myself move; i only know that the boy flying is me and that the direction of the wind shows me i'm moving clockwise. maybe floating is a more accurate description of what's happening: i'm moving in the same way i know the sun rises and sets, where i understand i'm going somewhere but don't see it happen in real time.

to the left of the water tower is a range of low-definition mountains, something out of a bob ross painting. to the right lies a theme park: all the rides are operating, but no one is riding them or walking around or waiting in line at a concession. i, the flying boy, am the only breathing thing from my vantage point. looming above the themepark bustle is a rotating ferris wheel and a rollercoaster track, both painted fire-engine red. the render distance stops past these things. only pale blue sky lies behind them.

i remember a beach laying past the theme park and mountains, on the same part of the horizon as the water tower, but i never saw any waves lapping at its shore. 

maybe it was less of a dream than a vision. what i saw in my sleep was almost a still image, turning with the non-ambition of a screensaver. my perspective never shifted. i saw myself as a figure in an oil painting, something hung on a wall, a work of art. i hope to bring it to life someday.

19 July 2024

summer loving hello


its been a little quiet on this blog lately. this is literally the shortest summer of my life. i've written some new words to become poems, but found them all kind of spiteful and drastically un-summerlike. i've written some new songs, which have fallen into my musical recycling bin to hibernate for a little while. i've mostly been working my three part-time jobs and scaring myself shitless about the fact i graduate to 'adult' in a little over a month.

old things are wearing out:
three overhead lights in my room blew out, and my amp's snap crackle popping again.
in preparation for college, I've gotten new posters, towels, pencilcases, and a kat klock (see right).

at the same time, my mom sewed my favorite jeans' holes back together. i'm bringing those with me, too.

before I lock into barista training (my art history degree), there's a few things left to do with the latter half of summer vacation. next week, me and isen are heading up in will anderson's car to play a set with our friends in stringhead at their very first root beer fest.  i'd like to lay on a few more picnic blankets and visit the met again. dusty ray gifted me a yellow fountain pen that has to meld to my writing before my seminars begin. i just finished up engineer work with some friends on a really intriguing new rock record, which i now have to mix. autumn rhythm's farewell(ish) show will be early next month. maybe some of those neglected new songs will bubble up to the surface before move-in.

i hope to fall into whatever my college's music scene is. i'm writing down new band names for groups to start with vassar kids (are they into that??) and ideas for a potential radio show. autumn rhythm will fire up again, too, as long as some heads there are remotely interested in my music. i just watched the elephant 6 doc and am looking for a few people who'll cover a dorm in tinfoil with me and record strange songs.

i'll leave you with what i've been listening to since high school ended:

bait & switch - emily's sassy lime
she's leaving you - mj lenderman
arlington sunset - calm
moon sequel - mount eerie
light command - unrest
tidal wave - the apples
wink - horse jumper of love
hurting me - braniac
l.a - elliott smith
victim of your own desires - slant 6
we're an american band - ylt

11 July 2024

hayfever season


hope everyone's staying cool.
here's the autumn rhythm dates for this summer:

7/13 - alphaville, BK
7/26 - plymouth, MA (rbhfest)
7/28 - stone circle theatre, QNS
8/3 - main drag music, BK





















illustration from the red book, carl jung, 1914-1930

27 June 2024

the state of indie rock, june 2024



footage by damien (@shabbadabbagooba IG), edited by joey spelledwrong

also mj lenderman will be AOTY

31 May 2024

during some tailspin turnaround


i kick rocks and skin cells,
pushing dust upwards and nothing out
the stain sticks to my skin

my every sigh is marble cracking,
or a sugarcube crumbling apart
i let the residue melt between my teeth

i have this street to myself:
in some faint faraway window, 
a cigarette siphons color from your lips



somewhere in the distance,
two birds kiss

poem 24.6.1

mayflower vitality






















anthropometry: princess helena, yves klein, 1960
museum of modern art

18 May 2024

'nothing gold' out now


yep. i was getting real anxious going 13 months without releasing new autumn rhythm material, especially when the end is nigh for college, but ultimately it was good to wait and figure these new songs out. a lot of them are written in tunings i invented. real fun to work those out, but it took a while...

live 24.3.15, photo by bade dagli
i started writing this record on my seventeenth birthday. it's probably our brooklyn record. i've never classified us as a long island band, even though the majority of us do live out here; we only started building anything close to a community around our music in brooklyn, which greatly influenced our direction and development. i've spent more free time in the city than at home this past year, and lyrically, this record reflects my recent interactions, good and bad, with the scenes and people i've surrounded myself with. of course, this record is also about horrible gut wrenching anxiety and depression, but every fucking 'shoegaze' album is now. whatever.


no song is about one thing only... i have a habit of writing a song and dedicating each verse to a separate emotion/person/idea. leaving lyrics online for this one already here, but i'll give some extra thoughts on each tune to celebrate the album's release.
 
hero worship is my favorite song on the record. the sample at the end is mags asking me to join a bill, sometime in may 2023.
novelty is a song about the past. this one should've been called 'hero worship II' on account of one specific harmony that i definitely stole from TNT's 'cartwheel.'
hang on is a reminder.
indisposed was sketched out on a 1995 fender stratocaster passed down from my girlfriend's mom, to my girlfriend, to me (for a couple of weeks in july). it's a real pretty instrument.
lit a candle talks about how new relationships change us in the eyes of people we've left behind, how deep
even the dogs- this song's title was inspired by a church sign in ridgewood, and dedicated to the late david berman (who i take some lyrics from for the chorus). first song i wrote for the album. jesse plays bass on it.
forgiver- i remember playing this riff over and over again while upstate with dusty, again on one of her mom's instruments. some of that made it into the end of this vlog about that trip. it reminds me of winter
catch up- i wanted to write something really loud, equal parts eric's trip and dinosaur jr. 
rest cure- i play some screwdriver guitar on this. isen lent some guitar to this track to give it some SY-esque guitar interplay, and i like how this track meanders in the middle like how one of their songs might. lillian sugrue, who's currently writing under big toothy grin, played some vocals. thanks lillian.
campfire- this song is for thomas kinkade, living room kitsch painter who also highlighted as a blathering, abusive alcoholic. 'kinkade' was in the running for album titles, actually. me, jesse, and our friend charlie lomonaco shout as one on the bridge.

lots of people made this album possible:
a heartfelt thanks to ryan shea, charlie lomonaco, lillian sugrue, tom oeffling, dusty+fam, jack, nora, krishna, maya, jayden, sam levine (as good of a drummer as you can get), bd&david, mom and dad. also, thanks to lydia slocum for the cover art, and dylan wall for handelling mastering. i'm honored to have worked with you both.

thanks everyone for sticking around. going to miss doing this quite a bit when it's over.
xo

13 May 2024

i flash my grandmother's smile


and say "i'll miss home-"

each crack in shared concrete
is an eye-corner wrinkle
well worn by people left behind

it'll be much greener than i remember
& i'll spend some solitary september
longing for pollen-springs turning over,
falling gentle at the speed of june

while i'm away, they'll stir:
so many somethings
hidden under their folds

poem 24.5.13

08 May 2024

steve albini, 1962 - 2024


fuck.

'a man who could identify 100 enemies as a sophomore in college'

i don't think anyone else in the history of 20th century music has had the impact albini did on how music sounds or is conveyed. such range, such vision; such philosophy, even.

was lucky enough to catch him in shellac around 2 years ago at primavera sound- perfect tension and release all around, and a buzzsaw guitar tone that sounds like your brain getting drawn and quartered. of course, it was always the dream to eventually reach electrical audio...

i think that the weight of this loss will only really hit a few years down the line, when records he's made stop coming out and stop penetrating music's wall of rockradio mono-compression. for now, i'll grieve and throw on some of the countless perfect sides he recorded- and play them loud

steve whipping a guitar into shape
some favorites:

ron- slint
i'm amazed- pixies
doe- breeders
mouth breather- the jesus lizard
milk it- nirvana
shimmer like a girl- veruca salt
nothing ever changes- braniac
farewell transmission- songs: ohia
wasted days- cloud nothings
my black ass- shellac
steak & black onions- rapeman
bad penny- big black

RIP

24 April 2024

it's springtime






















reading at a table
, pablo picasso, 1934
metropolitan museum of art

23 April 2024

i mistook a shell gas sign for the moon


i peered up at the apparition,
so ready to accept it as golden
through my carwindow looking glass

i held my breath gentle,
then sighed upon the revelation
my body sagged in its well-meaning haste

readymade highway treasure
etched into nightsky pavement
just-deeper than the real thing

poem 24.4.12