the internet at the house has been down and with it more than i’d like of my brain’s power to process and store information. plus i missed the deadline for the new issue of “late era clash” which i was supposed to email out tuesday morning. also i didn’t go to maine on goonies vacation like i said i was going to, but that’s not the cable company’s fault, that’s just me being a weirdo.
i’m totally giving up the store. does anyone want it? you can have the store with everything in it, or i can clear out and you can take over the space for your own stupid business (it’s a mere $300 a month).
cool breeze is visiting from portland for a week, which is so awesome that it’s ok that it’s hot and humid outside with really thick air that you can only fight.
seriously, does anyone want to use this storefront? $300 a month is no joke.
today i came up with the name i was racking my brain for the other day: ali farka touré. here’s a few mp3s from one of my favorite blogs, the aptly titled ““. listen especially to the first one, “ali baliky lalo”, because i’m totally going to rip it off so hard. like, worse than “jet boy jet girl”. AFT is often referred to as “the john lee hooker of africa”, enough that the comparison has become tiresome.
i started using google reader the other day for all my feeds, and even though the scope and power of google freaks me out, i have to say i’m pretty satisfied. RSS, if you don’t know, is an automatic way of aggregating all the websites you check regularly and displaying only the items that have been added since you last checked. if you check a lot of different stuff it’s really helpful to have everything on one screen, and it’s great for blogs like “awesome tapes…”, or my other favorite blog, , neither of which update all the time, but you want to catch them when they do.
bring at least $5 for the bands, more if you want cds, books, etc.. EAB, you should totally go to this– i saw 1/2 of these dudes sunday night and it was great. kickball was on a cap’n jazz tip, and clara clara totally tore in a keyboard bass drums instro-pound both feet off the ground shoulder to the grindstone way. i honestly can’t say one way or the other whether or not i’ll be at tuesday’s show, as my main man Ceramic Bushing is flying into town that night, but you should go, it’ll rip, and it’s just a house, it’s no big deal.
i honestly spent all night almost writing up a huge thing on the old little archie comics– about how the art is totally different- darker and more detailed, about how the plots are harsher with weird adventure and the romantic angles are even more openly fucked, about how little archie comics use adventure stories to remind you that being a kid is constantly at the excitement level of foiling smugglers and subduing an escaped gorilla. basically, a big up for little archie. it’s sort of a shame to throw a few hours worth of writing away, but ultimately all this essaying was taking me out of the game and not leading me a navigable path to the important conclusion of the night, which is that everyday is still a damn gorilla, everyday is hiding in an oil drum from a mercenary, and the difference between us and most people is that most people are (or pretend to be) archie, and we are little archie– different simultaneous facets of the same jewel; closer-to-the-void versions of retconned milquetoast supplanters.
i actually love huge edits like this, and find them enormously satisfying– the other day i wrote for 4 hours for a new zine and then replaced it all with one word: “hi!”.
monday night at the firehouse was a play called “the most mysterious day of the year” by a troupe called . i don’t want to say that it was the best show i’ve ever gone to, as that would be a disservice to a lifetime of wonderful memories, formative moments and transcendent, cathartic, or historical experiences. but it is safe to say that i have never been to a show (in which i was an audience and the performers were strangers to me) at which i was so absolutely and thoroughly delighted. the troupe was three people, but really two people and a narrator / lights & sound engineer. the sets, props, lights, and costumes were all janky in a fun way but totally perfect and never failing. there was a lot of clutter but every piece necessary and utilized. the acting was superb– clownish, huge, and vaudevillian, with both actresses playing a number of roles and swapping out of one character and into another perfectly, with broad gestures, stances, and facial expressions making it seem like they had a cast of twenty. and the writing was totally pitch-perfect with exactly the shade of whimsical farcical old-timey vaudevillian dialogue i cherish, with everything set in that dusty grey-brown indeterminate dawn/dusk of krazy kat dailies, beckett plays, and black and white mystery late nite television. all the characters were down-on-their-luck members of frivolous occupations, total “desolation row”. in short, i absolutely, without a doubt, 100% could not have loved it any more. they are on tour right now and their has dates. please go and hae an amazing time and help them out monetarily. number one, they will be in bloomington on july 5th, please tell them i said hi! i don’t care- call in sick! I LOVE IT.
saturday there was a big party for the 13th anniversary of the collective house i used to live at. the party was fun with a lot of great folks and dancing and carrying on and spilling drinks on people who are moms and getting your feet really stomped on and discovering really dark bruises on your ribs the next day that you can’t remember what they could possibly be from. dan wars made a mix tape, matt smith rented a car, the curtin brothers were there, it was a good time. of course, in the same breath i should say that there were a number of conspicuous absences, and with less of a connection to migratory crusties and general weirdodom at the house, there was a pronounced lack of “wild cards” as psibs put it. no greasy carharts, no facial tattoos, no forestry names, no one in a circus, stuff like that. come on, go go, shake off that anti-faustian 13 year old fuddy-duddiness and embrace real diversity- up the funners and creative scumbags!
i should add that i like everyone at the house, even the people who have careers (which is almost everyone). also i should say that today mcoe told me that him and ML and gran turismo had a roman candle fight in the woods- that gives me hope. ATTN more weirdos: move to worcester!
today i was listening to the siren cult / feral children tape in the store (mikey h sauce stopped by yesterday) and i got intense deja vu, and i think i get more deja vu than most people, but this time there was sound (that lady singing on the siren cult side), sight (looking at a bunch of styrofoam i hot glued to the ceiling in a “space city” configuration), taste (arizona green ice tea tall boy), smell (moldy shirt), and then just to make it all the way around the horn i reached out and touched grip tape and that was dead on too. it really made me feel great, like i was on a glorious path i glimpsed in a dream years ago (which i think is entirely accurate). i even wasn’t bummed when, staying open late by special request, the requestee didn’t show. what do i care?– i was sitting on a bench in the sun eating candy like a sultan. hey if you’re reading this, you missed out only on me inviting you to a catholic group home to watch cable access TV and drink root beer with “a crazed madman and [honorary] defender of metal”. that’s right- today was the first wcca broadcast of the first episode of the !
the viewing party was at the catholic worker house, and it was pretty sweet. i’d never been over there but i see all the red headed kids that live there at least once a week at the store or just walking around, so i was psyched to check out the lair. the snow ghost’s connection with them is peculiar, in that he is a self-avowed “satanic warrior”, but i guess they can still respect each other by virtue of being on the same coin, if opposite sides. i kept to myself the fact that i don’t believe in original sin, but really, how often does that come up while the tv’s on? anyway it was a good time, we ate newman “O”s, and snow ghost laughed at his televised self’s [jokes / descriptions of three stooges episodes] until he was actually crying. then we watched commercials a little bit, then i went home.
the new backpatches are done and will be at the store tomorrow. also if anyone has a digital camera i can take ~18 pictures on (while you are there waiting) please stop by early (but after 2). big big party tomorrow and me with nothing to wear but i’ll manage i’m sure possibly with a ninth-inning kimono. hey peter, hope you’re bringing your iron stomach, i made more of that typewriter polish and it’s a doozy.
last night after work me, getzendanner, and gas can all packed in the minivan out to turners falls MA, where lives, to see a show. yes, we saw the brompasaurus himself, resplendent in vibrant green pants and a cool haircut with more salt in it than i remember. he set up the show. playing the show was uke of spaces corners county (formerly uke of philips) and tumble cat poof poofy poof, plus two local acts. the first act was called ““, they were totally epic. 100% domepiecing with a fussy and dictatorial teenage lead singer in a wheelchair- “this next song is about charles manson, it has vocals and guitar and drums and trombone and you (points to trombone player) play the drums and there’s backup vocals and a mosh pit. THERE’S A MOSH PIT.”. what can i say? there was a mosh pit. i guess the only thing they have recorded is an 8cd box set they’re about to drop, which i promise i will get a few of for the store. after them was jeremy latch and friends, who sounded donovany. tumble cat brought it down into a quiet spell with an actual quiet spell- starting by taking pictures of the teeth of people whose teeth were bothering them, with the implication that music is the healing force of the universe. his set was in three parts. josh plays tape players but it isn’t straight musíque concréte, it’s active and lifelike and twitchy and grows like kudzu and there are also gameboys (there’s a gameboy). for an encore he listened to the theme from rocky on headphones and sang along, daring to get even intenser than the music (which was the theme from rocky, i feel compelled to mention again). ug, i love that guy! after TCPPP was UOSCC, singing and squawking and wearing cut off jeans short enough that the pockets hang out, and big mud boots. the secret’s out of the catbag, so i’ll say it- we’re doing a split record and joint tour next spring, uke of xyz and me, and i’m really psyched on it. it’s early enough in the planning stages right now that we’re trying to decide on a theme for the record- so any ideas let’s hear them.
after the show i was charming and we tried to get thai food but the place was closed (it was late). it was my car plus josh TC and crystal ree and we got pizza instead and played the jukebox, pretty sweet. the pizza we got was round but cut into tiny squares, which i think was more a product of our number than local custom, but it’s not like we were huge in number, but anyway it worked out pretty good i think. also it was greek style- way greasy (pun) with the crispy crust and pronounced likelyhood of taking off all the cheese on a slice with the first bite, so tiny pieces made this less of a problem (it happened more but it was less of a problem each time and altogether was more less of a problem than it was happening more). in conclusion, i had a great time in turner’s falls. i liked everyone i met and everyone there i had already met i already liked. also, if you’re in turner’s falls looking for a discrete amount of pretzel, the liquor store sells them 5¢ a rod. not bad at all.
tonight was at gilrein’s, establishing a monthly trend. i did what i did last month- i tried to draw the guitar player (pete henderson)’s world-league guitar face. this time i got jambuck, MZ, and little andrew all to try it too, and i feel like we got closer, but it’s really hard. he’s got a real lemon pucker with lots of pain and joy swirled in.
which reminds me- jon shirley, since it’s been cold again a little i’ve been wearing the flannel shirt you left at the store. it makes me really happy because the smell is a real grampa smell – cigarettes and mold in a drafty house.
today i returned a huge stack of library books, most of which i read a sufficient amount from. taking a nice 5, i started looking in the applied science section of the new books section at the front, and then i got hooked, and then i got probably too many books again. first i was looking at a big book of brilliantly-colored electron microscope photographs of pollen, because i can’t stop thinking about strategies and methods of information dispersal, and i thought this coffee table book might spark some ideas. i took it to a table to look at it, ideas were not really sparked, and i put it back. on the shelf nearby, however, was a book that caught my eye called “the Illuminati 666″, which was not there previously, and was conspicuously absent of any sort of library markings. the binding was uncracked, signifying that it had never been read- my only conclusion is that someone reverse-shoplifted it onto the shelf just to get the message heard! i grabbed it of course, not thinking to look around first and see who was watching me. but just walking around after the fact, it seemed like everyone was in on it, and every look was “a knowing look”. later i found a note hidden in a burroughs book about some poetry website, then on the common behind city hall there was a scientology tent giving people “free stress tests”! i actually didn’t know they were scientologists until later in the day– i just walked on by. but i wish i went in- scientology is bonkers! carolyn went in and said it was totally creepy– carolyn, here’s the . anyway, the point is, people were getting over in all sorts of weird ways, so seek and ye shall find, right?
pictured above (speaking of strategies)- “pumped on life I & II” by michael antelope, kevin driscoll, and . also, the full text of that book i found is online , but this magic square is my favorite part:
what do you think, we’re all asleep out here? been working on then giving up on certain internet schemes, went to the recycling center with JVW to get parts for a space city i’m building on the ceiling of HBML, eric YF took me and a bunch of folks out for ice cream boats (“YF” stands for “your friend”), maybe i did sleep a little, when it rained, but if i did, it was nice. is up at the store, all cool drawings by jeff “noise nomads” hartford. he made a catalog for the show too, and it rules. stop by and pick one up. also i finally installed the soundtrack element of the sun ra solar myth planetarium- it’s two walkmans playing different sun ra songs controlled by an ingenious device with tiny momentary pushbuttons on a turtle’s back that turn each one on, or both at once. it’s further mesmerizing, and now people hang out inside it a lot.
i’m working on a zine for the 1st anniversary of the store, should be epic, sick, etc. if i ever finish it. i wrote an introduction that was going going going about the history of punk inspiration in worcester going back personally through the firecracker and the space and the go go and the WAG and then abbie hoffman and birth control and sacco and vanzetti and emma goldman’s ice cream shop, then i replaced 80% of it with a single word sentence – “Hi!”. too big a task for right now’s attempt at a nigh-overwhelming amount of curious detritus, plus what’s my attack- to talk about influence or be the influence? wild dogs v. intellectual snobs?
