I’m a global citizen. I’ve created that for myself…

johndenver2“My music and all my work stem from the conviction that people everywhere are intrinsically the same,” Denver said in a 1995 interview, “When I write a song, I want to take the personal experience or observation that inspired it and express it in as universal a way as possible. I’m a global citizen. I’ve created that for myself, and I don’t want to step away from it. I want to work in whatever I do…towards a world in balance, a world that creates a better quality of life for all people.” – John Denver

Rhymes and Reasons by John Denver

So you speak to me of sadness and the coming of the winter,
The fear that is within you now that seems to never end,
and the dreams that have escaped you and the hope that you’ve forgotten,
and you tell me that you need me now and you want to be my friend,
and you wonder where we’re going, where’s the rhyme and where’s the reason?
And it’s you cannot accept: it is here we must begin to seek the wisdom of the children
and the graceful way of flowers in the wind.

For the children and the flowers are my sisters and my brothers,
their laughter and their loveliness would clear a cloudy day.
Like the music of the mountains and the colors of the rainbow,
they’re a promise of the future and a blessing for today.

Though the cities start to crumble and the towers fall around us,
the sun is slowly fading and it’s colder than the sea.
It is written: From the desert to the mountains they shall lead us,
by the hand and by the heart, they will comfort you and me.
In their innocence and trusting they will teach us to be free.

For the children and the flowers are my sisters and my brothers,
their laughter and their loveliness would clear a cloudy day.
And the song that I am singing is a prayer to non-believers,
come and stand beside us we can find a better way.


The River (A Dirge for Kurt Cobain) by The Julian Day


We can get down sometimes, can’t we? You just have to hope someone’s really there for you when you do.


The River: Words by Philip Scott Wikel, Music by The Julian Day (Video Below)

I am the river
dry as the sun
like Kurt Cobain
without the guts

I am the river
dry as the sun
and for the hundredth time
I’ve gone nuts

I remember the river
when it used to flow
I remember the river
and I thought you should know
that I’ve become the river
and I wish I could row

But my arms are the river
dry as a bone
my arms are the river
and my heart is a stone
you see,
my heart is the river
and it used to flow
but my heart is the river
and it’s as dry as a bone

I even wish I could shiver
because that would show
that I was once like the river
when it used to flow
how I wish I could shiver
because that would at least show
that I was as cold as the river
in the white winter’s snow

I am the river
dry as the sun
and I think of Sylvia
cuz she’d gone nuts

I think she was a river
and like many the same
they’d gone crazy
and they had the guts.

In The Mind Of Hemingway

ernesthemingwayIn The Mind Of Hemingway by Philip Scott Wikel

I think I’ll go out like Hemingway
no point in being 80
decrepit and dependent
unbalanced life and weighty

I think I’ll go out like Hemingway
before the age decays
me into something that’s nothing
and everything a haze

I think I’ll go out like Hemingway
clean and fast and true
no IV’s or life support
no succumbing to the zoo

I think I’ll go out like Hemingway
a flash and crack of light
involutionary psychosis
be damned to do what’s right

Notes on The Julian Day – Like Who Cares Right? (Haha)

Gateway to Elysian Fields
Gateway to Elysian Fields

Midnight 12am: It’s that time of night when one can be convinced that his quiet, mindful wanderings might have some relevance to other wanderers of the Elysian Fields. Sleeping people don’t talk back and folks like me with grand delusions find this time suited to their wayward, wanderlusting minds.

For those of you wondering why we chose the name “The Julian Day.” To the best of our knowledge the “actual” julian day is the day inserted into the month of February every leap year. This is the day that balances the calendar and literally balances time. In a world where everyone and everything seems hell-bent on throwing us and the entire world out of sync:

“We like the idea of achieving balance and evening things out to create a harmonious wholeness.”

Even if achieving that means first, throwing everything out of whack. It’s only when we experience chaos that we define our truest foundations.

Our first EP is called Sohei.

Sohei in Japanese means literally “monk warriors” or enlightened soldiers. Lofty title right? We’re doing our best.

With Sohei we’ve created what we believe is a powerful musical document that underlines the struggle for a higher spiritual and emotional connection to humanity that is musically and thematically coherent. We’re not interested in singles. We want all of the songs to contribute to a homogenous, and sonically courageous whole; each song contributing to a unified statement. We’re hoping you all will enjoy it as much as we’ve enjoyed, and are enjoying creating it.

The new EP (if we ever finish it) will be called “A Place Called Everywhere.” 

It’s our belief that as the world grows smaller and smaller with each passing day through our interconnectedness via the internet, skype, cell phones, and all the other techno stuff, soon wherever we are will be a place called everywhere. What will that world be like? We’d like to explore that with this next round of songs.

Preview of “A Place Called Everywhere:” https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/thejulianday/508010318?token=792d5193

Here We Are Now, chap. 16 (insanity continued)

Here We Are Now,  a novel of the grunge generation

chapter sixteen

The goings-on of this strange circle in Goshen had, at once, become a nuisance, then he became used to it. He could see the pattern of what they did and better the pattern of who they were. They were seemigly a bunch of spoiled kids and degenerates with nothing better to do than to torment others. They were, it seemed to him, like the types that assumed their supremacy above all back in high school. Those too good for anyone but themselves, not unlike the Socs in the novel The Outsiders. People rotted by a life of priviledge and degeneracy; no moral fiber, no love for anyone or anything, except for this disgusting effluence that might issue forth from the mouths of the loudest among them.

The whole thing was an insult to his intelligence and to his wholesome upbringing; his education, his care for nature, and his compassion for mankind. How things could become the brunt of a very low sense of humor confounded him. Their leader seemed to be a young woman who called herself Music, along with another with the all the decadence of the mystic decay of Ancient Greece, Medea. Medea had a child and prided herself on the fact that she’d managed to keep the party going right through her pregnancy; acid, cocaine, and assorted pharmaceuticals washed down with ample servings of scotch and beer. She rejected God openly and claimed the ancient Snake Goddess as her guide. Both women prided themselves on their ability to manage minor acts of magic, (which Dylan termed Bitchcraft, petty hocus pocus) achieved through the manipulation of the natural forces otherwise reserved for God. They secretly hated men and engaged with them only to procure what they needed to further selfish aims which amounted to little more than an extreme feminist agenda that viewed men as little more than providers of sperm. And as he looked into the disappearance of his painting, Dylan found that Heather was part of their clan; neither as influential or charming as the other two, but not without her abilty to extract and embezzle what she needed for her survival.

Continue reading “Here We Are Now, chap. 16 (insanity continued)”

Here We Are Now, chapter 1

Well here it is, unedited (at least not edited by anyone but myself) and, for the most part, unread by anyone but you and me. It’s quite different than Ticket to Ride but I hope you will enjoy it just the same. Brace yourselves. This piece will, at times, be angry and dysfunctional, raw but redemptive, and, hopefully, beautiful and inspirational. Enjoy.


Here We Are Now

A Novel of the Grunge Generation


by philip scott wikel

Here we are now, entertain us. – Kurt Cobain, 1990



Summer 2002

Dylan walked into Walmart thinking “I need to hook up with some white trash slut and get laid.”

This thought troubled him.

When did I become so shallow, he thought?

His answer was that he believed he’d been cursed by his ex-girlfriend Heather. He also believed, he’d become acutely aware of the way in which the women he seemed to attract functioned. He was wise enough to know it wasn’t all women. Heather had been a good liar and quite adept at acting and it had taken only a few weeks to figure it out. The old wives tale goes something like, “you have to convince a man to do what you want without letting him know that you’re doing it. Make him think that what you want is what he wants.”

Dylan wasn’t having it.

He’d seen behind the curtain… ignored passive-aggressive behavior… watched her try to associate herself with things he liked, trying to create triangular desire. Triangles were best left to geometry, he thought. The subliminal was useless with someone who perceived everything head-on.

Continue reading “Here We Are Now, chapter 1”