Experience

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  https://wordpress.com/posts/cityofindustry11.wordpress.com

  • Short stories, Short Scripts

    • Nov 2015 - Present

    Some alignment issues...

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  Something rather than nothing

  • Maine

    • Jul 2013 - Present

    We looked over the water on that overcast fall day when it felt like the sky might break, sitting on a blanket, far above a seemingly endless bay of bobbing red lobster traps as a slight misty fall breeze met the silence of our picnic on the steeps where grass was trying so hard to sprout between the rocks that ran far, far down, all the way down to meet the brackish sea. A lone one hundred plus year old lighthouse stood silently, stoically, all white brick with its beacon keeping careful daytime watch and in the darkness a dire warning to all who have ever entered. If that lighthouse could speak would lobster be the only topic of conversation?

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  Using a laser pointer

  • Standing back up again

    • Jun 2013 - Present

    It was a deathly silent, far removed region on Earth where the iciest of mountains stood tallest that a single passenger came violently crashing, loaded with enough baggage to fill the underbelly of the 747 commercial airliner. The deafening, savagely explosive fireball that immediately followed echoed and bounced off of the massive, razor sharpened, moonlit peaks.It was on that clear, quiet evening, like a pet, a pet bird, that only a wing was clipped and it was that that had sent the machine into a spiral, a death spiral, circling toward its immanent doom. Inside the shell, egg, cadaver, what have you, roared the sounds of vertigo, pain, reflection, sadness, loss, regret, guilt, etc. However, there was no time or even energy for suffering while the soul aboard, while the human being aboard was spun uncontrollably. The passenger’s moment of clarity clicked then clacked and then was locked down as the captain’s voice over the intercom reasoned, calmly reassured, “Sir, we have a chance, this will all be over soon, I ask that you please, please, for God’s sake stay on course, point north, never stop. Never give in, stay up. We are in his hands now; he is a just and merciful God. We will make it through this, we will make it through this,” calmly repeated the Captain a few more times, knowing full well that this would be the end. “I can level us out and get us down safely, please have faith…please.” Surprisingly, indefinably, there was no panic. Surprisingly, indefinably, there was no panic, only the moment.-J.R. Ames

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  a computer

  • Numbers

    • Sep 2012 - Present

    If there’s safety in numbers, why haven’t I ever found solace in mathematics? If there’s safety in numbers, why does mob rule always turn violent? If there’s safety in numbers, why hasn’t everyone been accounted for after a trip to the watering hole? If there’s safety in numbers, why does the Electoral College vote for so many, yet represent so few? If there’s safety in numbers, why does the potential of 1’s and 0’s mapping, and eventually out thinking my brain make me uncomfortable? If there’s safety in numbers, shouldn’t there be more kids out there be named 4 or 7? -J.R. Ames

  • Beauty

    • Aug 2000 - Present

    I’ve touched beauty, but only in a dream. The most peaceful, ultimate version of truth we all seek, in the arts, in the war machine, in mathematics. Unrelenting in the eyes of the beholder who stands naked, open, completely unguarded before what it is that touches the soul. It is what it is that makes us feel real, alive, worth living, even if for a day more. It is a drug of sorts, however, nature being the only manufacturer, it floats illusive, a mirage of sorts for those of us who only have dreams. - J.R. Ames

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  Outdoors is...

  • Do you dream? 2020 AD

    • Feb 2013 - Feb 2013

    Do you dream of a tomorrow when you’ll be able to turn that frown! Instantly! Upside down! If you do! And believe in American Liberate Pharmaceutical! Then anti- depressant 6.6676 is the safest! Most reliable! Virus proof mood enhancement medication on the market.” The sign flashed bright in the smashing rain. Nothing new or unique about the scene, just something of a bird’s eye as Sammy, smoking a cigarette takes cover behind a Brownstone stairway stoop waiting out the weather and trying to get what he can out of his water splotched tobacco cigarette. After a few moments the rain slows, Sam extends his nylon hoodie a bit looser over his baseball cap as he jumps back out, back on his way down the Brooklyn side- walk. Stephanie is a girl from Chicago. She moved to NYC to study fashion at the Fashion Institute, it’s not just for fashion; it’s a four-year college program yet the focus is on fashion. Stephanie is very good at recall, memory, instinct, all in a tall, stylish, cute sort of way… interesting, complex girl, moneyed family. One night Sam asked Stephanie if she wanted hang out. “No, I think I’m just going to hang out with my friends,” Stephanie pleasantly replied as she slowly made her way back into the west village bar, dropping her cigarette to the red cobblestone sidewalk and stepping on it before continuing on back into the bar.

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  In the Alps

  • Pissed in snow

    • Nov 2012 - Nov 2012

    Now that, as of recently, I’ve seen Nordic fairies and tinder dust I would imagine there are millions upon millions of other spirits and lovely’s that hide from the moon, drinking beers and liquors into the night. Some dancing, some drinking like women, some not, some simply looking pretty, one sexy young stripper type dancing atop the bar. Confused, more accurately confused that not confused, the flow continues to find a way unabated, however with some manipulation from above, and the mind streams over the falls and follows the path of least resistance. It does only until the path of least resistance begins to fracture, wear; come on slowly as a toothache. Life is a dream. In one hundred years you’ll agree. -J.R. Ames

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  Pencil on Paper

  • Fly on the Wall

    • Feb 1995 - Feb 1999

    “She can find her own way home,” he slurred, pushing his stool from the bar, simultaneously snatching his Yankee cap from her dizzy head and then bursting out the door. She squinted drunkenly through her long messed auburn hair at the worn girl behind the bar, trying to read her reaction to the outburst as the jukebox drawled Johnny Cash. The used, young bartender remained indifferent. To find oneself in a 2nd Avenue bar in the East Village at 3:50 am was to be counted among the damned. A tall dude with stringy long hair that falls and simply lies on a dirty flannel racks the balls for another game against a Mexican dude. He likes to play here because the bathrooms lock. Perfect for safely blowing uninterrupted rails of coke all night. It’s a dive bar. They call them dive bars for a reason. There’s a lot of wood. Wood bar, wood panels, wood tables, wood stools, stupid shit written on wood walls. Sad wooden characters… J.R. Ames

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  In a notebook

  • Innocence

    • Mar 1990 - Sep 1994

    They come, they go, all ways at once through the fabric and ether, pushed and pulled by magnetic gyroscopes that spin ad infinitum. It’s a resounding success this evolutionary process, however, love, pain, power, weakness, hatred; irrationality…words…negate this token term, “success,” as the human animal is no success, but more of a mistake in the chain, a freak of nature…Perfection or purity in nature, on our planet, is a tree that stands tall, forever reaching for the Sun, dropping spores to the forest floors, ensuring future generations then dying a quiet death. Ironically, the most incomprehensible magnificence that is the complexity of the human mind is not a, “success,” so to speak, but seen as miraculous. In fact, most of the almost seven billion don’t even accept, “success.” Their entire belief system, life, purpose, function as a unit mechanism, size of X equaling 0 in the time space continuum is seen as miracle, miraculous divine notion. Nanoseconds following the loss of innocence a twisted sense of reality, treacherous departure, diversion of purity turns to love, pain, power, weakness, hatred; irrationality… words… Trees are forever innocent.- J.R. Ames

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  At a typewriter

  • Her

    • Jan 1965 - Sep 1976

    She used her pretty face. She used checks that bounced. She used people. She used cocaine. She used her freckles and thin nose. She used her thin hips and perfect ass. She used her perky tits, soft tanned skin and sexy stomach to get whatever she wanted under the southern California sun. - J.R Ames

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  On a Napkin

  • Patron

    • May 1907 - Mar 1917

    In the deep- south a couple gives birth. From the moment the child is born he is told that the color green is the color blue. Daddy shows him flash cards everyday, holding up a card deep in green, yet the child answers blue. As a boy he answers blue. As a man he answers blue. As a daddy himself, the flashcards in the attic are used to teach his own child that the color green is the color blue. - J.R. Ames

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  By Candlelight

  • Feather pen- 1693-1695

    • Jun 1900 - Jun 1901

    “My teacher was taken today mommy,” cried Joseph. “It’s for the best young one,” said his mother in a soothing voice as she bathed her boy in dirty tub water. “But they drowned her in the well, mommy, they asked her if she was a witch and she said no! The young boy began to get worked up, slapping, splashing, throwing water into the air, “I heard her screaming mommy as they lowered her down! Ms. Johnson was crying and screaming!” Joseph began sobbing hysterically, “she was crying and screaming from the bottom of the well mommy!” “Mr. Smith was yelling down for her to just admit she was a witch but she kept yelling back NO, PLEASE, NO!” And then jumping naked out of the tub Joseph ran for the front door, “WHY MOMMY? WHY? She told them NO!” She said NO! Joseph ran across and into the town square, naked, yelling at the top of his voice, “but she said NO!” She said NO! Two days later the local paper read, “Spell cast on naked, maniacal, fatherless local boy by mother deemed to be a witch. Trial and sentencing to be held this afternoon in town square.” -J.R. Ames

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  A while ago...

  • Passion- 1567 AD

    • Nov 1900 - Dec 1900

    Passion is often manufactured to impress. Obsession is a side effect of a rapidly circling, at times grinding, mind.

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  Dredd Scott Decision

  • 1857 AD Separate but equal is mathematically negated

    • Jan 1900 - Jan 1900

    Dredd Scott Decision: 1857Separate but Equal:Separate but equal- separation of something, anything, a piece of buttered toast-Separate but equal- Separate but equal is a highly subjective term/ issue. Why, if equality? Separation? If so, who decides the nature of equality, and who decides the nature of the separated?-No concrete mathematical argument supporting separate but equal law on any other ground than highly complex semantics.