PHENOMENA january 2 0 1 5 2 0 1 5 2 0 1 5 issue 2 0 1 5 issue 2 0 1 5 issue issue 22 00 11 55 issue 2 0 1 5 issue 2 0 1 5 issue writing director - jason melton @captainjmoses
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editor, design - jacob sanders @jacobsandersar t
contributors
ian densford cover andrew brinkman p4 frank zerilli p5 courtney bernard p6 jacob sanders p7
iandensford.com @weaponsmithy brnkillustration.com @brnkillo frankzerilli.com @frank_zerilli courtneybernard.net @cbernieillo jacobsandersart.com @jacobsandersart
jasonmelton.tumblr.com jason melton @captainjmoses p8-11 lilypadula.com lily padula @lilypadula p12 ryanhumphrey.co.uk ryan humphrey @ryan_humphrey p13
Andrew Brinkman
Frank Zerilli
Courtney Bernard
Jacob Sanders
I am Jason, a known-for-smiling-a-lot depressed stand-up comedian, not to brag, but to establish, that I am in bars nearly every single day. And for a while, drinking to black out.
tie my shoe. Not this time.
Not to brag, but to establish things.
***
Stand-up puts you bars. Alcoholism puts drinks in you.
2013, December.
Like, I don’t think I’m the stereotype: depressed fella. But so much maintenance in life! Too much? Sometimes, my shoe comes untied, and I just stare at it. Like, maybe not? No, sometimes I’ll think no. I’m not going to
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And sometimes, I fucking won’t tie my shoe. I’ll leave my shoe untied.
I am drunk every day. Because of Christmas, duh. Because of The Big Why. The Big What For. 2014, January. The dates 1-9, I’m redoing December, the Big
How Come, and my birthday is on the 10th. ***
talking about you behind your back. Some could make you the big bucks. Just light a match and you get the big bucks.
Sometime in 2013, December—it is cold—I walk into a dollar store like no other dollar store. I wanted aluminum foil and socks. And to be honest, I was, in the middle of my life, completely lost.
I spotted a candle that said “Double Reversible Action.” It had arrows pointing to each other to make shapes. Like the recycling symbol except not triangles—circles and squares in hippy colors.
I was going to make baked potatoes and have dry feet. Just until I felt better.
I bought it, flippantly thinking: I’ll write a song about this.
Honestly, a pretty good plan—in hindsight, the baked-potato-dry-feet method scores 4/5 stars for depression management.
Makes no sense.
The dollar store—like if a place could sell noise. Shit everywhere, mops, car mats, misc. cables, and religious fanfare. A poster of Scarface next to a poster of Mother Mary.
What? Why?
Junk drawer, the place.
So the candle decided I would buy it.
The clerk—old and ambiguously ethnic— followed me around, watching for what caught my attention so he could suggest add-ons.
***
When I found socks, he suggested underwear. When I found aluminum foil, he suggested I buy a pan.
I am drunk every day. Christmas. The Big Why. The Big What For.
An old and vaguely ethnic human pop-up. “I’ll buy a pan when I’m fucking ready to buy a pan.” I didn’t say. I escaped the clerk down an aisle. Bumped into mostly religious candles. But some of the candles were baffling. They were vaguely Catholic, and some would advertise the capability to stop friends and neighbors from
I’ll write a song about this?
The candle chose me. I was, in the middle of my life, completely lost.
2013, December.
With my shoe untied. 2014, January. Same. Same, but until my birthday on the 10th. Then, I stopped. *** I find out that a “Double Reversible Action” candle is a witch candle.
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And here I was, trying to Bob Dylan this thing into a song. Why sing? I had access to magical powers.
Drunk. Christmas. Drunk. The Big Why. Drunk. The Big What For. Drunk. Shoes untied. ‘Swimming Pools’ by Kendrick Lamar.
Being a witch is super easy, thank you, Internet. There’s YouTube tutorials and everything.
Burning witch candles every day.
With these candles, there’s three general purposes: money/fame, love/sex, and truth/ balance.
“Or whatever you think is best. Honestly, I don’t know shit about what’s good for me.”
I was/am only interested in love/sex. Of course. I was so lonely. So lonely! Listen, I would do this: I would carve the initials of my crushes into these candles. I would coat them in oil and speak incantations. Power words! Power words like “Black cat! Cauldron! Broomstick!” Not those specific words, but you get it? I would carve my crush’s initials (multiple usually). BF, EO, JS and a bunch more. (Multiple because it helps the probability.) Please, don’t figure out whose initials those are. It’s embarrassing!
“BF, EO, JS” and a bunch more.
2014, January. Birthday approaching on the 10th. *** I blacked out for three days in a row. Happy Birthday! Blacking out. Hurting people I love. Erasing everything. Blacking out again. Jan. 10th 2014. It happened a year previous to me writing/admitting this. BUT, here’s what transpired: On Jan. 10th 2014, a lot of people said happy birthday to me on Facebook. Who cares!
But, at the same time, I would always give the candle an out. I’d carve the initials, and “Or, whatever you think is best. Honestly, I don’t know shit about what’s good for me.”
A person I respect in San Francisco texted me, “A lot of my friends quit drinking and they say they get used to doing stand-up sober in about a year.”
Help me candle.
Unsolicited. Telling me to quit drinking? Why?
***
A person in Chicago told me to my face, “You should quit drinking.”
2013, December.
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Unsolicited. But respectfully. Out of love. Quit drinking though? It had not occurred to me. A person in New York messaged me, “You should save up some money and come visit!” Unsolicited, but that was nice. But, the only way I could save enough money was to strap down and quit drinking.
what’s good for me.” It must have been, right? Listen, I don’t know shit about anything, but I scored five beautiful ladies in a month. I’m a witch.
San Francisco, Chicago, New York. Three people from different places saying the same thing in one way or another. That’s too spread out. Too coincidental. *** 2013, December. Christmas. The Big Why. The Big What For. Shoes untied. 2014, January. Birthday. Unsolicited messages. SOBRIETY. 2014, February. By the time, I go to New York, I had dated five different beautiful ladies. In one month. Five! More than the rest of my life combined—don’t judge! I was so lonely before. So lonely! And it was over. Because I carved into wax: “Or whatever you think is best. Honestly, I don’t know shit about
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Jardley Jean-Louis Lily Padula
Ryan Humphrey