STAY THE FIGHT! STRENGTH, EFFORT, AND DISCIPLINE. THESE ARE THE WATCH WORDS OF A WARRIOR -- Kevin Michael Vance
Title - Kevin Michael Vance - writer/musician/purveyor of raw materials
STAY THE FIGHT! STRENGTH, EFFORT, AND DISCIPLINE. THESE ARE THE WATCH WORDS OF A WARRIOR -- Kevin Michael Vance
STAY THE FIGHT! STRENGTH, EFFORT, AND DISCIPLINE. THESE ARE THE WATCH WORDS OF A WARRIOR -- Kevin Michael Vance

www.kevacho.com
©2002-2018
Kevin Michael Vance
Writer - Portland, Oregon


When creating this spot for my web page I was trying to think of how I might best not come off as the biggest buffoon on the forehead of this great, big, planet. Then I realized something... I am human. For me this bespeaks volumes. It means that I am fallible, that I am not perfect. I have made mistakes, am making mistakes even as I write this, and will, inevitably, make mistakes in the future. When I wax romantically about myself and my role in this cosmic-shit tub we all dubiously call life I like to think of myself as the warrior- strong, loyal, full of discipline and honor. In reality, there are parts of me that follow those codes, but more to the point, I am a worker, and very proud of that. I finish what I start. I relish the journey. And I live... as well as any 38-year-old white male could hope to live in this world of skewed ideals and twisted attitudes (holy crap! I wrote this drivel five years ago. How time light speeds).

Suffice it to say, here within these "random thoughts" I will contradict myself, I will be wrong in some points and right in others, and I will make mistakes. However, as always, I hope in a small way that you, the reader, might garner a modicum of enjoyment.

Hell! I know I do.


March 10, 2018
Romero's nightmare... come true.
We are a society of technological zombies.

We shamble mindlessly over concrete and gravel, stopping in mid-stride to stand motionless while we answer the fatuous call of our brightly bedecked machines which chirp and chime at us like mechanical companions; our faces lowered to the twinkling screens of our blackberry’s and i-Phones, LG’s and Android’s, Galaxy’s and Droid’s. Senseless and immobile, gape mouthed morons that only need a string of drool to complete the image of the aforementioned metaphor. We stagger unawares, unseeing, deaf, amidst a teeming world of natural beauty and incomprehensible magnificence; our hearts and our minds, our very beings captured by the colorful bubbles of the unreal, the vacuous world within a world, the world of falsities and sound bite icons; blissfully ignorant of all the wonder and horror that transpires around us; ignorant of the sometimes overwhelming physical reality that blinds and stings, and that teaches us there is such a thing as corporeal truth… whether we like it or not. And yet still, we stand idle, swaying back and forth on our heels, tapping out nonsensical messages with our thumbs and then tossing them into an imaginary ether-world to be judged, and ridiculed: George Romero’s darkest fantasies come to life. We are trapped, shackled, imprisoned… all of it voluntarily; constantly prostrate before our mechanical gods. Our own personal safety forgotten, or even, discarded in our perverted need to be connected in a manner completely contrary to our mammalian origins. Our own betterment garbled and made inconvenient amongst the sweet trivialities of social media: at once dissociative and distant. Into the unreal world we hem and we haw, we yammer and we yowl; judgment and punishment doled out in equal measures by those faceless presences hiding behind the anonymity of pseudonym’s and call signs. Information is like a vivid riot, a violent storm of vacuous images with no meaning, no purpose, and no impact. Meaning has no meaning, truth is not true, manners are rude, and privacy is antiquated. We are lost. And we are dead: the living dead. The human part of us (the best part) frozen solid in an iceberg of cold system reboots and algorithms.

I say to thee and thine look up! Raise your face into the light; release your eyes from the swirling glittering quagmire of the inane, the toxic, the unimportant. Life does not happen inside your pathetic little phone, life happens outside of it… in the real, real world.

Stop being a zombie.


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January 31, 2018
Never forget...
Happy birthday, Dad. I will always miss you.

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October 28, 2017
My dad...
I will always love and miss you, pop.

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October 16, 2017
Dave Vance Day
Today is a special day, a day of remembrance. Some forty odd years ago it was officially coined "Dave Vance Day" in my hometown of Missoula, MT; because of my pop's exemplary work with the federal government. It is awesome to have your father recognized for his achievements.

So, happy freaking Dave Vance Day. May we all live up to the level of professionalism and dedication my father displayed on a daily basis.

I love and will forever miss you, pop.

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