THE MARLIN DISKS ~~~ A photo-journal of time spent deep in the fish ~~~ the last great place to catch a BUZZ

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~~~~ THE MARLIN DISKS
Saturday, 22 July 2017
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THE MARLIN DISKS
The Marlin Disks are a photo journal of my several years, i.e., mid 2004 to early 2006, working at The Marlin Marly Rasta BarBar in Fairbanks, Alaska.

It's a long story as how it all came to be, but reality conspired as it often does in the path of men and I found myself at the door, not long after starting this new endeavor this site came about--

A few years back it had more albums up, but got hacked bad in the great Iframe web hack of 2008 so it had to be gutted. I am now rebuilding all the albums anew and getting them back online. I have almost 100 photo albums so it is a slow road. Subscribe to the RSS feed if you wish to be notified as new albums go online.
rss feed icon for In The Time Of Losing It All BlogLove to all, Lynus O'Brien





The Marlin Disks had their accidental genesis sometime towards the end of twenty-O-four. Having been for months at my guide camp hundreds of miles from town and light years away from what we call civilization, I ended up back in Fairbanks not wanting to be there. My whole life falling apart, the hunting season a wretched nightmare of betrayals, coercion and folly trying to stay afloat in what had become a miserable business and the final end of the road for my bush life after thirty years of wilderness living. Needless to say, I arrived back in Squarebanks with a discontent in my spirit greater than any I've ever known.

And with that--I descended deep into the belly of the beast, my life losing all semblance of order and contentment, the grip of my 50 plus years haunting me, pushing me over the edge as I left yet another relationship to chase the primal heart of my youth trying to find some peace before the storm I saw coming and which we are now in, yet losing all in the process of same.

My time at the Marlin can be compared to the flight of a fireworks rocket that slowly hits the limit of flight as it explodes, its ashes and disjointed pieces free falling into darkness. What started as a diversion to escape my ragged reality became a several year journey losing myself. The Marlin Disks are what remains of that odyssey. At some point I may write some of this story, but for now let these photographs be the outgrowth of what became another chapter in my long strange trip as equally valid as my mountain years, or the KABN Radio, in and out of Big Lake, Ak days.

To borrow from Dickens:

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way - in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

—Opening paragraph of A Tale of Two Cities

So how does one know when any escapade truly starts? It's that ol' chicken or the egg shit, and I honestly can't say these days, although I figured I knew when I was younger. Yet, in spite of that, life still goes on with the seeming inevitability of fate, squeezing one into canyons and pathways until suddenly you're back on the owlhoot trail, already knowing once again you're in too far to ever go back.

And as in fiction, beset by the consequence of will, the conflict between the tangible lusts of this world and the esoteric yearnings of the soul do strive defining the plot. So why did I do The Marlin years? Certainly it wasn't for the money, not with the awesome, starvin' cheap-ass bands that didn't know how to tip the door man playing the Joint (love them for the most part as I do), and it wasn't because I needed to party--hell I've taken enough shrooms and cactus, smoked ganja and drank rotgut till freakin' dawn enough for us all to get high for at least a solid year, maybe two or three. No, it had to do with that whole inevitability thing, the causal effect of decision played though the arc of action deciding fate, that servile term giving permission to escape, if you will, any societal expectations of how one ought to "Be."

For after all it is but the three goddesses Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos spinning our web, or so we say to go on with our dreams. Yet even more so than that--

Look, it's simple really, I've been writing for a long while now, and through that whole crazy fate thing it would have been folly to not tap the pulse of the vibe I had all around me--but then who the hell am I kidding, with the likes of all the fine babes coming into this place, with the drama, conversations and games that were played, what else would I have been doing in this screwy, crazy Fairbanks town on a "Wild" weekend night, writer or fucking not.

Note to the Viewers and those in the Photos: I don't intend this site to be perfect, it is but a reflection of the the world I saw around me, and that at best is imperfect in itself, as am I. Sorry I don't caption the pictures, it is almost more than I can do to just edit them and put the best of the lot into albums. I found once into this project, that even I don't have words enough to spread so thin with more inane catchy captions (although I reserve the right if I want to). It's the image that counts anyway, worth a thousand words and all that tired cliche horseshit.

I hope not to offend anyone with these pictures and odd, jangled notes, if I do, email me and let me know. Or if you like what I'm doing for that matter, let me know that also if you want with a comment at Bar Flies on The Wall. I'm assuming much by putting this all on the net, anyone that wishes their picture to be struck from the record, request it and it will be done. Shoot I didn't let anybody take a picture of me for over five years, that was Big Medicine stuff with this ol' hoss back in my early mountain man days. But then, I'm not saying you have to have a reason, I will honor you wishes regardless--

Vaya con Dios, Lynus O'Brien

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