phone book roundup
the new phone books came today, which is really not notable.
when cool breeze was living with his dad and they shot holes in the wall with a revolver so they could run water pipes through to the other room, they stacked phone books next to the wall to catch the bullet.
i don’t know where the idea “to knock someone out painlessly with a phone book” came from, but it’s an idea i use often, often as an offer to a griping person. on two occasions there were actual tries which were neither painless nor successful, once on ML (by me), once on me (by ML), each time during an exquisite and manic personal romantical hell. i guess they were successful in that they added a fine amount of drama and camaraderie, with an avowed “you brought this upon yourself and i’d do the same in a flash” on the part of the bookswinger. i don’t not understand people that don’t understand this, but i can’t say i exactly trust them either.
speaking of trust and casual near-obliteration, there was a party at my house a few days ago and i was certainly (as mike t says) into the night. i rarely drink, and was even against it for a while, so on the occasions when i do drink (always in celebration, always with others) it’s a sacrament. in other words, i do a good job. i was wearing my phone book shirt, which features two duck-headed people having seriously tantric sex while rainbow sprinkles rain down on them, and i realized the connection between the band and drunkenness (and other things), which is abandon. at the party i was saying some wild shit but i stuck to it, didn’t back down, and it worked. similarly, phone book was a chance for me to eschew musical rules, guidelines and safety nets i had always used, and prove (to myself alone) that i could have nothing, keep going, and it’d work out, even if (and actually, because), at times, i looked like an idiot. i’m not saying that everyone should get shitfaced every night, but i do think that periodically facing reckless abandon, in a positive, creative manner, is good for a person’s developement, which is ongoing. that night i had a dream about a 4-color comic book that i knew i would draw in the future, full of complete nonsense, but the sort of nonsense i am not, right now, able to create. the pages clicked by in a rapid-fire slideshow fashion, as if i were a ghost flying through the book while the book was shut.
in a few days jim (phone book drummer) is moving to minneapolis to go to grad school. i’m bummed for me but mostly psyched for him. he’s got a new tape coming out, with a lot of weird beats and fake rapping. to quote: “za za ra za wa za za hand / zabba labba za understand”. jim rules. PHONE BOOK!
I can remember a story related to me about jeremy hill being so obnoxiously messed up while on a roadtrip with Samia that their present company tried to persuade her to let them knock him out with a phone book, claiming it wouldn’t hurt him. She declined.