finally, i’m on the wayward boys page, hitchin’ up my pants. i feel like a super-*. also, that’s not a real faschist- that’s dan wars’ authentic reproduction of the ’ss of the wild west’ suit from the devo “come back jonee” video. dan: “oh, my poor jewish mother…”. oh yeah, larry’s movie “dead in america” is the best zombie movie i have ever seen EVER.
so i saw pollack yesterday and i am happy to report these two things i learned about his life: he peed in peggy guggenheim’s fireplace on new year’s eve, and he had a tame crow for a pet. this is the end of my report.
i’m being beseiged by emails asking me to clarify my pizza
party physics. to thee i say: picture the ocean, all wavy and stuff, as a
two-dimensional circle surrounding a solid circle (the earth). now picture
the ocean inside out, with the waves on the bottom (inside)and the
stillness on top (outside). now remove the earth and replace it with a big
pizza. our existence is as barracudas and manta rays and octopodes and
jellyfish in this ocean (which is space/time) and the crests of the waves
all meet in one central
place: a pizza
party. please send nobel prize money asap, as i owe my mom one hundred and
ten dollars. if you still don’t understand, get some 3d glasses and spend
a few hours staring at the
hypercube.
i sold a bunch of zines at the rally yesterday and even traded one with new (but not newfound) pal alixa (i’ve seen her around for years and years but i only talked to her a few days ago- the straw that broke the camel’s back was that i saw her wrapped in a really comfy-looking blanket inside a movie theatre). i had to keep that particular transaction on the DL, as if the heads knew i was free-trade i’d get my ass whomped.
more from the week of tim:
tim told me yesterday that at the end of his life nietsche ran out into the street and hugged a horse. and: speeding along a windy road tim and i saw quite a site and this is our assessment of the situation: a cop pulled over an old blue mustang. a big german shepard was driving. the cop walked over, the dog leaned out the window and licked the cop’s hand. the two cars return to the street with no one the wiser but me and tim. plus: tim and i had a pizza party. later i saw bob eating pizza. even though the pizza tim and i ate was very large and laden with tofu and such, and the pizza bob ate was plain and cut into hilariously small, square chunks, and the two pizza events were temporally and spatially distant, i consider the two to be one party.
i’d like to point out that i installed a fully compliant search feature yesterday. it’s nothing like that google bs i was rocking previously- this indexes all the pages when i give the say-so.
lightning bolt, black dice, rob powers, el guapo and shy child BBQ/
concert on May 6. at wesleyan. yeah… hell yeah. rally today at 5pm at shitty hall (as my grandfather would say) to welcome home our boys and girls who went to quebec city. which means i’ve successfully delayed seeing “pollack” again. tonight come see everyone’s favorite prog-punkers (by default) and quite likely no one’s favorite hardcore/rapcore act fiesel at the (some would say miraculous) flywheel in eastha[ppenin'/mpton].
two more tim bits (and why all the counting suddenly?):
1). tim has a sort of reverence for kim “jane speed” weitzell that is based not entirely but mostly on her possession of the shy child demo. jpb at a basement show: “maybe kim speed is here”. tim: “shit. fuck. she’s got the shychild demo.” (note- kjsw has her own domain and it goes to a geocities page. WTF? zine: T. page: F. band: NB.)
2). as i am both a scardey cat and a copy cat, tim has successfully instilled in me a fear of seeing the movie pollack. what if it’s true that he was this tortured guy and it was all he could do to drink copious scotch whiskeys and throw copoius paint bombs in a filthy garrett? my lord i think i’d die.
there’s a new story from our man greg greg, which arrived this morning alongside the cruddy (but ultimately ok) news that he done left this town for good. kudos for rocking a david byrne and not saying goodbye to anyone. negative kudos (soduk?) for not even throwing a brick through someone’s window. i mean, jeepers creepers- you’re leaving town anyway, you might as well. anyway we already miss you and you know everyone here fucking loves you, you monster. warning to people in the fitchburg area– if you hear prolonged crying jags, girlish sobs and blubbering, that’s just me telling dan wars.
1). there are three names i can’t stop saying to myself over and
over: otomo
yoshihide, joan armatrading, giles wietzapflen. i wake up in the morning (or walk around in the afternoon) and say one (or two) of the names over and over again (or one after the other), like a mantra.
2). new
written by my mom. it’s short but i’m trying to encourage her to make this a regular column. i suppose a comment could be made on the proximity of trees to fallen apples. but who would make that comment? you?
3). who will be the first to try and get the US kicked out of the
4). friday me and bob (from
5).saturday me and
to the da lat in a lite beer fashion for some #37s b/w avocado milkshakes. truly, the meal of princes of the earth. tim pointed out that if you are vegetarian in worcester, you are awash in numbers. 37, 86, 73, 4, 13… just the incantation of these numbers makes me salivate. it’s like that joke about the prison where they told all the jokes already.
bad subjects has a really good article on school violence as a trumped-up excuse to take away kid’s rights. matt and i were talking about this very subject just the other day. matt’s sure-fire cure: “if you live in a shitty town and you’re always getting picked on, don’t kill anyone, just start listening to punk rock.”.
my sister gets two magazines that still get delivered to my house- Time is one of them, Shape is the other. if only she got Volume- she’d have the physical existence hat trick. rrrr- i have no idea if i won that phoenix contest or not and it’s bothering me. not bothering me so much that i won’t enjoy a nap this afternoon, but sure, it’s bothering me.