OMG it’s so nice out today reading that book of gasoline alley on the lawn. came home for a quick bite to eat and the first floor neighbors, strangers to me, drinking smirnoff lemonade since i left at noon, sunglassed and TW (that’s “totes wastee”) singing “paradise by the dashboard light”, to me. i was a verse early but in response to their query “will you love me forever” i could only answer “let me sleep on it”, to perhaps more jubilation than those sensible words have ever elicited.

gasoline alley is so gorgeous. drawn & quarterly has begun to release in two year chunks the entire run of dailies, and it’s $30 hardbound, a bargain at twice the price. of course i got it from interlibrary loan, but i think i might buy it anyway just to have and loan out. anyway it’s gorgeous, human, and funny in a deep way (the way people are funny). the characters famously age in real time, and it’s really and truly a delight. highly recommended.

tonight me and alex ex-sideburns are going to see the body at redrum in providence, before they leave for tour. if you like doom metal, beards, glasses, beautiful hair, birkenstocks, patchouli, and bands that are louder than (most conceptions of) hell, do yourself a favor and find them out.

played a show last night in western mass, sorry for the no notice but i wasn’t sure if i’d even be able to make it there (which has been a problem in the past). the show was at gallery tk, an actual art gallery where dennis and george washington myers had a show. dennis made prints and george colored them, except the prints were enourmous xeroxes and the coloring was done with spraypaint stencils in the awesome gwm style, real garish and monstruous and ugly-beautiful. a mess of folks played– bill nace and chris cooper (the ax-swingers from vampire belt and fat worm of error, respectfully) did a tabletop guitar duet with butterknives bouncing, bengeorge7 played some acoustic freedom rock (like the commercial), anthrophagous rex (that’s “cannibal king”, just like ephraim longstocking) played his hit song “give me some cocaine” (and a misfits cover by request!), skaters cultivated some lush soundscapes, orphan fairytale (from belgium) played some great sk1 looping melodic space-out, chris corsano (the vampire belt drummer) played solo, circular breathing clarinet drones played into a snare drum as a resonator with wires bouncing off it, super good. “all sets are gonne be short everyone is wasted. bend wishes, stay nude” -from the email. the show wasn’t an all-out brain buster, more like a fun chill-out sesh, but it definitely re-upped my crush on that particular part of the world, where i have yet to meet a non-sweetheart. someone brought a big bag of greasy popcorn. made some business deals too. music. music. i told dan trashcan on the phone beforehand that i would bring brownies but i messed them up pretty bad (as you could well imagine). i was excited to play, expecially because for a variety of reasons i’ve been unable to attend the last 3 (4?) shows that people have booked for me out there. george says that’s ok, though, that it’s part of my mystique. i don’t know about that.

special hi to flip who brought me that dracula chewing gum with the fake blood center! also hi to people that said they really liked my songs– i wish i had had the wherewithal to say hey what’s your name, or anything appropriate at all!

tonight there was a show in boston for robinamer’s birthday, yoni gordon, the stick and rag orchestra, and bigfoot paul’s marching band all played, but i only got there in time to see paul’s band but it was a doozy. first, playing in a big loft, and people dancing and the whole place smelling crusty like whirling dreadlocks and damp carharts. then, taking it down three flights of stairs to the street and everybody prancing like regular cocks of the rock all around chinatown, dancing dancing dancing and picking up strays, tourists, and off-duty cooks. milling about in the street afterwards and eventually the cops came by and then we went inside and milled about and then left. i was in the bathroom and people were knocking on the door and a line was forming but what could i do about it? came out and said the grossest thing i’ve said more than five times: “you know what they say: ‘never rush an artist’”. in response one stranger said one of my favorite things that people sometimes say about me: “that guy…” then nothing. i was dressed up nice, which is to say, i was wearing a long wide ribbon pinned to my shirt and a shiny dead watch. i forgot to say to someone (anyone) what i told myself on the car ride down i would: “didn’t i meet you… on a summer cruise?”. well you can’t win them all and you can’t even play every hand really.

driving home with the countess and rinaldo (of course) talking about (among other things) ghostface. jim, the new record’s good, didn’t you get the memo? ghostface has a really good one two three of an often surprised “holy shit!”-type tone to his voice, heavy heavy what the fuck slang that just plain sounds good, and perfect terse details. i’m not going to quote anything. look it up. download it or whatever.

letting myself get temporarily sidetracked while writing an article on dee dee “mashed potato time” sharp for teh next interview, i find that wikipedia validates me on the etymology of “krunk” (although more work could be done to prove this point). also macaoe, w/r/t “cad”, both the wiktionary and this google bullshit point to low morals and sinisterness as defining characteristics, not, as you had posited, mere stupidity. sincerely your humble servant, dictionary mcdictionary.

eating chocolate cereal and killing a set amount of time before a movie this evening i engaged in the somewhat guilty pleasure of ego-surfing (looking up your own name or band on the internet). most notably i
found a link share sight with an odd allegation that i am a woman (i am not) and this link to a swedish twee band with the same name as dad smith’s old hardcore band that did the fujichia theme song, models inc.. the swedish band has good song titles- “who’ll put the goblet on my grave”, “the day before the science fair”, stuff like that. of course models inc. worcester had “i like the part where you fall down the stairs”, so they’re pretty even in the song title category. the blog that thinks i’m a woman based their sexist and heterocentric opinions on the fact that i sew and that i said i was looking for “punk studs”. fyi, i’m not looking for punk studs of the sort that’s a person, i’m surrounded by that kind of punk stud!

walking around last night i thought i saw a rattlesnake skin but it was just a torn-up bungee cord. but the important part of the story is that last night i thought i saw a rattlesnake skin. hey nicole, get to work on the ghost side of our split noise tape. i’m working on the insect side and it’s going good. i already drew a great picture for the announcement flyer (this is going to be a big part of my new strategy- the flyer announcing that a tape, cd, or zine is done) (this has always been my strategy- jumping straight to the ephemera before finishing the immaculate). i’m ordering the tapes.

past few days i’ve been incommunicado on account of being at the go go silk screening a ton. i got a lot of jobs all at once, making t-shirts for various non-profit groups my friends are involved with, making shirts for fund raisers, soccer teams, and earth day. it should be enough money to last me another two months or so, and it’s not too much work, and it beats having a job. but of all the weeks to be busy, i wish it wasn’t this one, as i want to be in easthampton gooning around with dennis tyfus while he’s still “in country” you know. the big closing party for his art show out there is this sunday at 7, who’s going with me? there will be the kinds of bands i like there.

mikey hotsauce is the guy that moved into the closet at little pancakes when i moved out, and he’s a great guy and today he posted pictures of the recent art show there, feauring meredith stern, mike “MT” taylor, jo dery, christopher forgues, mike glorious anderson and mikey himself. free on, providence!

also today i got some stuff done but i’m not sure i didn’t mess it up and might have to do it again tomorrow but more work.

also the new yorker was right about the new ghostface album being good.

a lot of times in my dreams i’ll be yelling something really loud and it’ll be harder and harder to yell. i think this is less some sort of freudian fear of being forgotten than it is my conscious mind stepping in to stop my unconscious mind from making my actual body start shouting the lyrics to “wasted” by black flag. because the body is neither in the audience of a farcical graduation ceremony nor at a dinner party with donald sutherland, the body is lying in bed.

the other day we (obviously that’s me and the countess and rinaldo) went to providence and saw paper rad and extreme animals and the new jo dery movie. well it was pretty awesome. jim, you said that paperrad never updates their website, but they just did so check it out, especially the “info” section and “what is a project”: “so yah, what is a project, well in my mind it is when there is this thing and then people work on it and it ends up being this thing, this could mean building a barn, going on a party boat, or making some stuff. … thats it, its not about if beck was poor growing up, or whats better: dogs or cats. its about doing something, then doing another thing. that is a project.”. the jo dery / peter glantz movie was really good, about eating popcorn and being 1000 years old. before the movie they showed a clip from “attack of the show” where they are talking about our very own democracy player and they show a clip of the popcorn movie and then the anchorwoman’s completely baffled expression. total synergy. peter and dave manbeard also did a short play that was really good, about man’s search for meaning (as always). also jo dery gave me a cup of pudding.

technically it’s spring but this is new england and i’ll believe it when i see it. right?

last night me and the countess and rinaldo went over westernmassaways to see fat worm of error and vampire belt at hampshire college. well, we just missed vampire belt, and fat worm didn’t end up playing, but it was still good. the first thing we saw was thurston moore and leslie keffer doing a growling feedback duet, then eloe omoe (the band, not the guy), and then bromp treb did a solo set, then lamb’s bread. well, we were talking in the car afterwards about how thurston moore never ages, but my theory is that his face doesn’t age because he barely ever moves it anymore- no smile lines because he doesn’t look like he’s having fun when he plays, just bored, sullenly rubbing a guitar. was the set good? well, i enjoyed it, it was like listening to one really really really slow riff that had been time-stretched to 30 minutes. eloe omoe (the band) was, as i had anticipated, a bummer, a bummer i will enumerate. first the band gets points removed for being named after a living (?) musician (clarinetist for sun ra’s arkestra), and one who could concievably be playing the same show as the band. this, however, is nitpicking. the main thing i don’t like about them is they just don’t really go for it. it’s freeform drums and electric bass, and the drummer doesn’t play loud or hard enough for the amount of amps the bassit has. the bass meanwhile plays meandering bass noodles neither heavy nor lyrical. both periodically stop to figure out what to do next. bummer. lamb’s bread was the opposite, a rock three piece that was straight-up going for it, playing fast freedom hardcore, ripping and pounding. as you might guess from the rasta name, they were baked. and attn: dan wars, the guitarist was zach of cape cod (now ohio)! oh yeah, the best thing was that they played for maybe 15 minutes. short sets rule! like i said fat worm didn’t end up playing their own album release show but bromp “he’s the king” treb (neil the fat worm drummer) played solo and it was perfect, as can be expected. a typical bromp treb set is an array of pedals, tape machines, and noisemakers plugged into each other, with neil hovering over it all with a microphone in his mouth controlling everything in a simultaneously exploratory and intuitive way. and since he’s such a sweet, funny guy, it all comes out funny, and sweet. lots of shifting patterns that you just barely hook into before they skitter away. totally gorgeous. he doesn’t “go for it”. he “has it”. go to the king’s label: yeay! cassettes and get all his solo stuff and the fat worm cd.

the other great part of the show, a great part of all good shows, was just hanging out. like i said, it was me and the countess and rinaldo and they were wowed how many people i knew out there, having never lived out there or anything. i told them the truth, that i developed a series of friend crushes and then just stepped it up. the western mass noise scene is really goofy and fun and silly and joyous and life-affirming, and still slays. western mass i love you even though you say “retarded” all the time, which i find objectionable and actionable. noise nomads was there and gave me the new 7″ which is awesome. dennis tyfus was there too, all the way from belgium, and even though it was almost exactly a year ago i last saw him it’s like no time has passed at all. fingers crossed that all the worry from last night about certain subjects sublimates into a conclusion we can laugh at!

i need a place in worcester, near clark, where i can play saxophone, ideally every day, loud. and record. can anyone recommend? i live in a triple decker and don’t like unnecessarily harshing mellows.

“…pierre menard studied this procedure … but discarded it as too easy. “rather as impossible!” my reader will say. granted, but the undertaking was impossible from the very beginning and of all the impossible ways of carrying it out, this was the least interesting.” – borges, from “pierre menard, author of the quixote”

yes, from coyotes to quixote to borges. i’m reading a ton nowadays and yes, xander, i’ve even started optimistically into that kurzweill singularity book. he quotes muriel rukeyser as saying “the universe is made of stories, not of atoms.” and later talks about how pattern recognition is what intelligence is. mel is sick right now and watching “contact” on this nice day with the wind blowing shit all around my room and slamming the doors. anyway at one point jodie foster’s character (or rather her character’s character) comes under fire for listening to washing machines and watching television static (“i was searching for patterns in the chaos!”). personally i am story- and pattern-crazy and the kurzweill book makes me comfortably aware that as a compulsive diarist my own pattern pattern and story story will be digestible and discernable by machine intelligence and plotted out and it’ll be me and i’ll be looking for you and what’s more not too too far apace.

that’s a buried hasil adkins quote re: pattern recogintion for you, machine intelligence. excuse the already-anachronism, machine intelligence.

also