The only reason why men write poetry is to see the Look on a girl's face.
I'm sitting in a Dunkin' Donuts in Hookset, NH. The girl at the counter was a sweet girl who's name tag read "Brit." It was such a riot and the two men from Maine laughed. They wanted cookies, all I wanted was another cup of cold coffee.
I wanna write a movie where a man knows exactly when he will die. The day will come and pass without even a scratch on his head.
Last night was a riot. Kevin and I sitting in my room listening to Sinatra and Indian music. We talked about. We talked about helping others. If we are the future teachers of America, well I feel pretty all right. I realized that night that if I belong to any chruch, it's the church of America. I believe in it the way others believe in Jesus. Jesus turned water into wine but America gave us rock 'n' roll.
* * *
I've been in a weird mood lately and I have been all last week, all things considered. It's gonna be another long week, I just know it. This Dylan song is the only way I can explain how I feel. He's good at doing that. Please be patient for the length, it's worth it.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Friday, January 28, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Ask for Record at Counter
It's very pretentious and cliché to claim an LP sounds warmer than a CD (all be it true). If anything, the '69 mix sounds stripped down. Zappa sounds like he's actually playing with a band instead of just multi-tracking the hell out of it. (For a frame of reference, at the same time Zappa was recording this in LA with a 16 track mixer, the Beatles were living in the stone age with an 8 track mixer.) The drums are much richer on this recording and "Peaches en Regalia" is too wonderful for words. The horns have space to breath as opposed to the constricting '87 mix. Same goes for "Little Umbrellas" on side two.
In '87 mix, he mainly turned up and re-EQed the guitar parts, but that doesn't make it completely worthless (or vain). I like the groovy lead-in he added on "The Gumbo Variations." The old mix starts quite suddenly following the calm "Little Umbrellas." Also the '87 mixes of "Willie the Pimp" and "Son of Mr. Green Genes" seem like Zappa's original intention was restricted by the technology at the time. "Willie" sounds way tighter and "Green Genes" has more excitement in it. I remember when I first heard it in high school and I was FLOORED by the time Zappa's guitar solo came in. The '69 mix sounds more relaxed; keeping with the jazz fusion theme and less balls-to-the-wall.
Both are great versions. It's the music that really matters in the end. It's widely considered Zappa's best and I'm inclined to agree even though I know my answer will change dozens of times after I post this. Also remember to register to vote, would you please?
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
You, The Artist
I had to fill this out for one of my major classes. I think it's really good for all artists to take some time mulling over. Here it is with my answers:
6. What do you think IS important in a work of art?
1. What satisfies you in life?
Exposing myself to new things, writing, listening to damn good records
2. What are your affinities?
I have an affinity for outdated things. Rediscovering the old.
3. What other arists/musicians/etc. are important to you?
Frank Zappa, J.D. Salinger, The Firesign Theatre, George Carlin, Hunter S. Thompson, Wes Anderson, Jeff Mangum, Brian Wilson, Joel Hodgson, Woody Allen, William Shaff
4. Who are your heroes?
Jefferson Thomas, Matthew R. Sullivan, Pete Seeger, Barack Obama
5. Do you think art has a social mission?
Art’s social mission is to unite everyone. Not to bring peace. Peace is hard to come by, it’s like enlightenment. However, art needs to make us all realize that we are all in life together and need to band together.
6. What do you think IS important in a work of art?
Something refreshing. Not like a cold beverage. More like a smile that starts at your toes and works its way up.
7. Where do you look or go for inspiration?
Supermarkets, Cape Cod, bad movies from the 1950s
8. What are your best traits/skills?
Knack for dialogue, writing, technical audio junk, eye for editing even though I’m not that good at doing it
9. What do you abhor in art?
Pretentiousness and bullshit
10. Who do you want to see in your work?
The people I love.
11. Where do you want your work to be place or seen?
In the ideal world, my own cable network.
12. What styles/genres do you find the most interesting?
Lately I’ve been finding the film Slacker more and more interesting. Any of those early 90s independent films. They are so gritty, have loose narratives, and yet say so much. It kills me.
13. What is at the heart of your work?
I just make things I feel should exist.
14. How do you research your ideas?
On Google, late at night, with music blaring.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Joseph
With all the things that happened to me today, it is even more important that I try to write in the last few minutes of the day. Too bad I have little to say. It's hard to form thoughts right now, a cohesive and fitting remembrance. My own accomplishment today takes a back seat- all things do.
I do have a plan, however. Tomorrow I will wake up, ready for breakfast. I will go to class. I will go to the post office. I will come home and write. I will watch television and talk with my dear friends.
Tomorrow will be better than today and I'll look forward towards the day after- for that day will be better still.
I do have a plan, however. Tomorrow I will wake up, ready for breakfast. I will go to class. I will go to the post office. I will come home and write. I will watch television and talk with my dear friends.
Tomorrow will be better than today and I'll look forward towards the day after- for that day will be better still.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
In the Summer of '52
I don't think much of Shutter Island but me watching Shutter Island feels like a Bob Dylan song.
Last night I watched film
And in it was Leo DeCaprio
I don't remember what it was about
But he was a US Marshal down on his luck
I didn't know him then but I knew two others
One was a man who wrote for the papers
The other a runaway boy
An SS officer and a prison guard
asked me what I thought
I said "It was a good film but not a great film,
I walked out on it even in my living room."
The prison guard smiled
As the SS man twiddled his thumbs
I blew my nose and finished my beer
And thanked them for the meal
As I walk home I think about Leo DiCaprio and his kids
I knew they wern't his real kids
But they'd be lucky if they were
Last night I watched film
And in it was Leo DeCaprio
I don't remember what it was about
But he was a US Marshal down on his luck
I didn't know him then but I knew two others
One was a man who wrote for the papers
The other a runaway boy
An SS officer and a prison guard
asked me what I thought
I said "It was a good film but not a great film,
I walked out on it even in my living room."
The prison guard smiled
As the SS man twiddled his thumbs
I blew my nose and finished my beer
And thanked them for the meal
As I walk home I think about Leo DiCaprio and his kids
I knew they wern't his real kids
But they'd be lucky if they were
Fresh Fish
How many people can write blogs about quilts? Honestly? I just stumbled on six quilt related blogs in a row. For a while I thought a lot of people didn't know how to spell "dying" properly.
Then again how many people have rambling blogs that are centered around pop culture in some manner?
Speaking of, I'm watching Shutter Island (2010) for the first time. I really need the tie Leo DiCaprio has in this film. In fact, I need to dress like a broke Los Angeles private eye from the 1940s more often. I need to stop smoking like one, that's for sure. This film is already reminding me of a B mystery movie from that era. Lots of fast talking exposition. I should devote all my attention to this but my mind won't shut up. I need to purge thoughts somehow. Really deep stuff...Hey look, Ben Kingsly. All right, I'll stop commentating the movie.
I feel really anxious being outside of Boston. I had a grueling dream that involved being in my theatre back on the Cape where I heard dozens of children voices but saw no one, and another one where a loved one berated me on an old color TV set. Obviously I'm nervous. I mean hell, the crude language in this film is offending me slightly. Maybe that's because I just watched about two hours of Laurel and Hardy shorts. As mean as they could be towards each other, they were very childlike and innocent. In a way, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia is the new Laurel and Hardy. Both gangs get into wild situations to better themselves in society...and fail miserably. Hell, they both bought boats that were completely destroyed by their own hands. The Sunny gang get into these bizarre situations that are only held for burlesque skits. I can already see the opening title for the season opener next fall- "The Gang Become Piano Movers."
Edify is a great word. I should use it more often. I should also stop writing until the film is over.
Then again how many people have rambling blogs that are centered around pop culture in some manner?
Speaking of, I'm watching Shutter Island (2010) for the first time. I really need the tie Leo DiCaprio has in this film. In fact, I need to dress like a broke Los Angeles private eye from the 1940s more often. I need to stop smoking like one, that's for sure. This film is already reminding me of a B mystery movie from that era. Lots of fast talking exposition. I should devote all my attention to this but my mind won't shut up. I need to purge thoughts somehow. Really deep stuff...Hey look, Ben Kingsly. All right, I'll stop commentating the movie.
I feel really anxious being outside of Boston. I had a grueling dream that involved being in my theatre back on the Cape where I heard dozens of children voices but saw no one, and another one where a loved one berated me on an old color TV set. Obviously I'm nervous. I mean hell, the crude language in this film is offending me slightly. Maybe that's because I just watched about two hours of Laurel and Hardy shorts. As mean as they could be towards each other, they were very childlike and innocent. In a way, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia is the new Laurel and Hardy. Both gangs get into wild situations to better themselves in society...and fail miserably. Hell, they both bought boats that were completely destroyed by their own hands. The Sunny gang get into these bizarre situations that are only held for burlesque skits. I can already see the opening title for the season opener next fall- "The Gang Become Piano Movers."
Edify is a great word. I should use it more often. I should also stop writing until the film is over.
Friday, January 21, 2011
The Decemberists- The King is Dead
Once I saw the cover and the lead track "Down by the Water" back in November, I knew for sure- the Decemberists I fell in love with back in high school is back. To start with, the album is tremendous. The group has always had a throw back feel to them, but on this LP it's a throw back to alternative records of the 1980s. The title alone is a tribute to Colin Meloy's beloved Smiths album The Queen is Dead ("This is Why We Fight" pretty much has the same drums and percussion from "The Boy With The Thorn in his Side" for what it's worth. Not accusing it of a rip off- it's a great tune that's way darker than the Smiths tune...if that's possible). Also it helps when you have REM's guitarist Peter Buck on board to make it sound like some songs should have been on MTV's 120 Hours back in '86. Some tracks also have rhythms that totally recall those on Paul Simon's late '70s albums and the harmonica parts are right out of a Springsteen or Neil Young song.
All the nostalgia aside, the album has so many fresh sounds too. The addition of Gilliam Welch on the whole LP is the best guest vocalist since Emmylou Harris was on Bright Eye's I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning. (Speaking of, new Bright Eyes LP is coming 2/15 with a whole new Saddle Creek line up. 2011 is going to be an amazing year.) "June Hymn" is perfect proof of the group creating new and exciting sounds that are vastly different from the days of "A Cautionary Song" but still fit perfectly in their vein.
Colin's voice is so different. Good different. "Rise to Me" is the best he has ever sounded. He has either completely loss his whine or perfected to a point where it's an art.
The album is basically what The Crane Wife should have been. Like Picaresque, it's just a collection of great tunes. Really great tunes, Jesus H. Christ. It's exciting the way only a solid single LP can deliever. Side Two opens with "Down by the Water"- shit, that's how you sequence an album.
Also as far as the album art goes, it's wonderful. A classic gate-fold filled with Poloroids of the band while recording the album in their farm outside of Portland, Oregon. Stuff like that makes me happy as hell.
On a personal note, listening to "June Hymn" back to back with Tarkio's "Keeping Me Awake" make me miss the summer a lot. The weather has been far too cold for my liking. Some days I lie in bed and wish that when I go outside, all the snow will be gone and it will be summer again. It never happens that way, but I'm still hopeful.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Main Street Sketch
The man came up to me,
“May I help you, sir?”
My Reply:
I’m looking to buy a new winter coat. Well I’m feigning interest in buying a new winter coat. The truth of the matter is I do not want a new winter coat
Nor can I afford it
No the reason I am in your department store is because I want to get to the main drag without walking around the block. So I chose to walk through your department store.
The man looked confused.
My Reply:
It’s quite alright. I won’t make your water paranoid. I just want a sandwich. And I want to buy a sandwich for a beautiful girl. If your department store sold sandwiches, I would stay longer.
Or beautiful girls – Then I would stay even longer.
That way I wouldn’t have to wait. Anymore. I could just make a down payment.
Let’s role play:
Let’s say you do sell beautiful girls, how much would one cost? How would your department store charge, by that I mean rates. This is no Woolworths. You don’t want to nickel and dime me. You would no doubt have a package deal. Beautiful girl, house on Nantucket, not too bad not too bad by the night not too bad
Now where’s the money?
I have exactly fifty dollars to my name at this very moment.
Will that be enough?
I told you I couldn’t afford your winter coats
I’m not ready for it
I can’t go through
Why are you hounding me so?
FINE! I’ll lean against your department store street light on the side of the street I wanted to be on in the first place and glare into your window and your shoppers who can afford your new winter coats and beautiful women and I’ll mope and sulk and-
oh there she is
“May I help you, sir?”
My Reply:
I’m looking to buy a new winter coat. Well I’m feigning interest in buying a new winter coat. The truth of the matter is I do not want a new winter coat
Nor can I afford it
No the reason I am in your department store is because I want to get to the main drag without walking around the block. So I chose to walk through your department store.
The man looked confused.
My Reply:
It’s quite alright. I won’t make your water paranoid. I just want a sandwich. And I want to buy a sandwich for a beautiful girl. If your department store sold sandwiches, I would stay longer.
Or beautiful girls – Then I would stay even longer.
That way I wouldn’t have to wait. Anymore. I could just make a down payment.
Let’s role play:
Let’s say you do sell beautiful girls, how much would one cost? How would your department store charge, by that I mean rates. This is no Woolworths. You don’t want to nickel and dime me. You would no doubt have a package deal. Beautiful girl, house on Nantucket, not too bad not too bad by the night not too bad
Now where’s the money?
I have exactly fifty dollars to my name at this very moment.
Will that be enough?
I told you I couldn’t afford your winter coats
I’m not ready for it
I can’t go through
Why are you hounding me so?
FINE! I’ll lean against your department store street light on the side of the street I wanted to be on in the first place and glare into your window and your shoppers who can afford your new winter coats and beautiful women and I’ll mope and sulk and-
oh there she is
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
You getting this, Zapruder?
First of all, yesterday morning I heard this awesome story on NPR's Morning Edition about a 102 key grand piano. I've never heard anything quite like it. Even playing normal pieces intended for 88 key pianos sound brighter. You can literally hear every single note being played with such clarity. Now we need some wacky composers to make new pieces for it. I'll get on it right away once someone gives me a grant for $300,000.
Now today was the first day of classes at my beloved MassArt. Junior Screening 2. I had only been back for ten minutes and we were already watching a video about the 1972 Republican National Convention. Great. Just what I need before I have my coffee in the morning, a face-full of rabid Nixon supporters. The piece was called Four More Years (1972) and was made by the San Francisco collective TVTV. Overall, I liked it. It was shot on a Sony Portapak, the first portable video camera, so it made Nixon's Nazi Youth supports even more freaking creepy. Every frame of the washed out b&w video made Miami look like a city in a third world country. Also, the piece made me want to re-read Thompson's Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail '72. After seeing the video, HST's descriptions of the scene seem dead freaking on- the decrepit Nixon supporters, the mind-boggling width of Ronald Regan's shoulders, and the eerie silence of the Vietnam Vets Against the War protesters outside the hotel. Maybe I'm a frustrated journalist. I feed off of shit like that.
Actually another radio show that would be fitting for this subject is this week's episode of This American Life. It's about kids given the responsibilities that are usually reserved for adults- like whether or not America should invade Grenada.
Then what did we watch next? The fucking Zapruder film. Really Prof. G? You want to crush our spirits that much? This was followed by Ant Farm/T.R. Uthco's The Eternal Frame (1975) which is a re-enactment of the assassination (well more so a re-enactment of the Zapruder film itself) right in Dealey Plaza. Was it accurate? Almost to the frame. Was it offensive? Jackie O was a dude in drag.
My class tomorrow has been canceled so I am looking at a four day weekend. I have no idea what to do with myself. If I'm smart, I'll write and go to the MFA and other fabulous things. If I'm stupid, I'll watch TV and Stumble until my fingers bleed. Let's hope for the former.
Now today was the first day of classes at my beloved MassArt. Junior Screening 2. I had only been back for ten minutes and we were already watching a video about the 1972 Republican National Convention. Great. Just what I need before I have my coffee in the morning, a face-full of rabid Nixon supporters. The piece was called Four More Years (1972) and was made by the San Francisco collective TVTV. Overall, I liked it. It was shot on a Sony Portapak, the first portable video camera, so it made Nixon's Nazi Youth supports even more freaking creepy. Every frame of the washed out b&w video made Miami look like a city in a third world country. Also, the piece made me want to re-read Thompson's Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail '72. After seeing the video, HST's descriptions of the scene seem dead freaking on- the decrepit Nixon supporters, the mind-boggling width of Ronald Regan's shoulders, and the eerie silence of the Vietnam Vets Against the War protesters outside the hotel. Maybe I'm a frustrated journalist. I feed off of shit like that.
Actually another radio show that would be fitting for this subject is this week's episode of This American Life. It's about kids given the responsibilities that are usually reserved for adults- like whether or not America should invade Grenada.
Then what did we watch next? The fucking Zapruder film. Really Prof. G? You want to crush our spirits that much? This was followed by Ant Farm/T.R. Uthco's The Eternal Frame (1975) which is a re-enactment of the assassination (well more so a re-enactment of the Zapruder film itself) right in Dealey Plaza. Was it accurate? Almost to the frame. Was it offensive? Jackie O was a dude in drag.
My class tomorrow has been canceled so I am looking at a four day weekend. I have no idea what to do with myself. If I'm smart, I'll write and go to the MFA and other fabulous things. If I'm stupid, I'll watch TV and Stumble until my fingers bleed. Let's hope for the former.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Charazard
Zdeno Chara's hat trick and Boston's 7-0 win over Carolina restored my faith in sports. Chara SMILED today. That man shows only two emotions- anger and brutal defense. As Paul pointed out, "brutal defense" is an emotion and Chara's the 4th Bruins defenseman to get a hat trick...and the other three were Ray Borque. At least I know it's safe to listen to sports radio again because 98.5 will be gabbing about this win all freaking week...until some 50-something bonehead calls up bitching about the Pats game, which will undoubtedly happen. Maybe it's still best to avoid my radio...
I'd really love to be a pro-wrestling TV commentator. Actually ideally I'd wanna be a character developer and commentator. WWE Superstars are way too similar and generic now-a-days. They are all the "sorta in shape white kid doing well for himself." The nuanced personalities occur when they act like either a dick (any member of the Nexus), a douche bag (The fucking Miz) or lone wolf (Newbury's own John Cena). No one is really unique anymore and those who are unique are the comic relief or pathetic jobbers. The only cat that really impresses me on the WWE's roster right now is this kid from South Africa. He's brutal in the ring with lots of old school moves. Can't for the life of me remember his name...
Also way too many are trying to bank in on their famous dads- like Dusty Rhodes's kid and Ted DiBiase's kid. They are both very talented but serve no other purpose other than being third generation.
There's a lot wrong with the WWE right now. I'd love to work with them though, mostly because I don't want to move to Florida seeking employment from TNA. I'll just start looking for jobs in local promotions. Too bad my dear friends at NECW went under. Their shows were fantastic and the personalities were great. I will dearly miss stumbling around Quincy and sweating my ass off in the Armory.
I'd really love to be a pro-wrestling TV commentator. Actually ideally I'd wanna be a character developer and commentator. WWE Superstars are way too similar and generic now-a-days. They are all the "sorta in shape white kid doing well for himself." The nuanced personalities occur when they act like either a dick (any member of the Nexus), a douche bag (The fucking Miz) or lone wolf (Newbury's own John Cena). No one is really unique anymore and those who are unique are the comic relief or pathetic jobbers. The only cat that really impresses me on the WWE's roster right now is this kid from South Africa. He's brutal in the ring with lots of old school moves. Can't for the life of me remember his name...
Also way too many are trying to bank in on their famous dads- like Dusty Rhodes's kid and Ted DiBiase's kid. They are both very talented but serve no other purpose other than being third generation.
There's a lot wrong with the WWE right now. I'd love to work with them though, mostly because I don't want to move to Florida seeking employment from TNA. I'll just start looking for jobs in local promotions. Too bad my dear friends at NECW went under. Their shows were fantastic and the personalities were great. I will dearly miss stumbling around Quincy and sweating my ass off in the Armory.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Playoffs Part Two- And I Thought Yesterday Was Bad...
Why? Why the Jets? Why negate the greatest instalment of Monday Night Football last month? I would have rather lost to Cleveland again and for even more than lose to the Jets. Now for the AFC title it's gonna be Steelers/Jets. I'd rather castrate myself with a weed-whacker before I even think about taking sides in that contest. At least I'm pretty alright with both Chicago and Green Bay so I'm rooting for an NFC champ for the third year in a row this coming Stupid Bowl.
Two out of my four picks came through. I need to get better at that. I only really played one game on emotion- I honestly thought Baltimore was gonna pull off a win. They deserved to win the game based on that sneaky touchdown after stuffing the hell out of Rapethisberger and causing him to fumble. If dickweeds like Flacco and Sanchez are the future of the NFL, I think I'm gonna pick up tennis again.
At least this weekend wasn't a total loss. It never is when I'm with Paul, my best friend since the 8th grade. I've been in his new apartment in New Hampshire since Saturday. My stay has basically been a 10 year old boy's dream of what being in college would be- your friend having his own place where you can stay up as long as you want, play with Nerf guns, watch TV, and live on the comfiest chair with a million blankets and pillows.
I usually find whatever intangible sentiment I'm searching for when I come to New Hampshire. Last night we walked across this bridge in the center of town on our way to a Chinese restaurant. I looked over the bridge to the cold water running down stream over rock after rock as the snow fell gently. It was like a scene from a T.C. Boyle short story idealizing New England. Bursting, I exclaimed "This is my country." Paul laughed. In cold weather, joy is contagious. This state is almost too much to take. Perhaps because personally, it doesn't have the same baggage Maine contains- my former golden state.
Switching gears, winter always makes me think of Barenaked Ladies. Each of their albums have a cold snap in them- save Maroon. It's music to huddle around. I spent a lot of time trying to warm myself in front of the glow of my stereo in middle school while memorizing the words to "Upside Down" or trying to teach myself the harmonies on "The Great Provider." Here's a deep cut from their wildly successful 1998 album Stunt as played in a bathroom by songwriter Ed Robinson. It gave me chills when I was 13 and still does so seven years later. This song is winter in Harwich, MA.
Two out of my four picks came through. I need to get better at that. I only really played one game on emotion- I honestly thought Baltimore was gonna pull off a win. They deserved to win the game based on that sneaky touchdown after stuffing the hell out of Rapethisberger and causing him to fumble. If dickweeds like Flacco and Sanchez are the future of the NFL, I think I'm gonna pick up tennis again.
At least this weekend wasn't a total loss. It never is when I'm with Paul, my best friend since the 8th grade. I've been in his new apartment in New Hampshire since Saturday. My stay has basically been a 10 year old boy's dream of what being in college would be- your friend having his own place where you can stay up as long as you want, play with Nerf guns, watch TV, and live on the comfiest chair with a million blankets and pillows.
I usually find whatever intangible sentiment I'm searching for when I come to New Hampshire. Last night we walked across this bridge in the center of town on our way to a Chinese restaurant. I looked over the bridge to the cold water running down stream over rock after rock as the snow fell gently. It was like a scene from a T.C. Boyle short story idealizing New England. Bursting, I exclaimed "This is my country." Paul laughed. In cold weather, joy is contagious. This state is almost too much to take. Perhaps because personally, it doesn't have the same baggage Maine contains- my former golden state.
Switching gears, winter always makes me think of Barenaked Ladies. Each of their albums have a cold snap in them- save Maroon. It's music to huddle around. I spent a lot of time trying to warm myself in front of the glow of my stereo in middle school while memorizing the words to "Upside Down" or trying to teach myself the harmonies on "The Great Provider." Here's a deep cut from their wildly successful 1998 album Stunt as played in a bathroom by songwriter Ed Robinson. It gave me chills when I was 13 and still does so seven years later. This song is winter in Harwich, MA.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Playoffs Part One- No Will To Live
The Steelers/Ravens game was THE worst football game I've ever seen. Move over Pats/Giants Superbowl. There was a flag on every other play, Pittsburg challenged everything, and the game lasted well over 8 hours. Currently the Green Bay/Atlanta game is tied at 14 in the 2nd. I can't really tell if it's a better game because I went brain dead after the first half in the first game lasted an hour.
Alright Green Bay just got an amazing touchdown with 42 seconds left in the half. This is clearly a better game because I just felt joy. Last time I checked those who wish to commit suicide don't feel joy.
But honestly, is it 4 pm EST tomorrow? This Patriot game needs to happen now.
Ears still ringing like a mother.
Alright Green Bay just got an amazing touchdown with 42 seconds left in the half. This is clearly a better game because I just felt joy. Last time I checked those who wish to commit suicide don't feel joy.
But honestly, is it 4 pm EST tomorrow? This Patriot game needs to happen now.
Ears still ringing like a mother.
Dancing with myself.
Tonight I went to see Eli "Paperboy" Reed and the True Lovers with a bunch of my art school friends at a joint called the Middle East Downstairs. Pre-show I went to my friend Joe's place on Hillside and for the first time in year, I was under dressed. Joseph was in a slick suit, the girls looked fantastic and even Alberto was wearing a button-up sweater. I promptly bolted back to Parker to change into a velvet blazer and skinny black tie. Some drunk dude called Joseph and I "Jake and Elwood" as we made our way to Cambridge. I think I enjoyed the compliment a little too much. No matter.
Three McDonald hamburgers, two glasses of whiskey and one hour later, we were in Cambridge watching an opening act by the name of Spirit Kid. They sound like a good Beatles power-pop group. The lead singer looked a little like my friend Joseph. I was already dancing like a fool and the main act hadn't even come out yet (granted it doesn't take much to get me dancing like a fool.)
The True lovers came out with a pretty strong looking brass section wearing dark sunglasses and solemn expressions on their faces. I turned to Joseph and said "They better open with a horn hit." Sure enough. In total Blues Brother fashion (second call back of the night), the horns hit hard, and the band came in while the keyboard player gave an introduction to our hero Eli that grabbed the room's pre-show tension by the balls.
"...Ladies and Gentlemen, Eli 'Paperboy' Reeeeeeeeeeeed!"
The lad came out looking like Michael Buble as a greaser. A good pompadour is something to covet and I coveted the hell out of it. He took a confident stride to the microphone, grabbed it savagely and let out a yelp. The band went full tilt. The house exploded. The man simply did not stop. He opened his mouth and nothing but soul came out of it for over an hour. He channeled all the masters of soul and didn't scrimp on the showmanship. At times his voice gave me chills, sounding like he swallowed an old transistor radio.
I simply did not stop dancing. Neither did my friends. Alberto with Miriah. Joe with Monica. Audrey with Me. Me with Miriah. Joe with Alberto. It went on and on. We were so happy and angelic. It was impossible for any bad vibrations to creep into the room. It's so wonderful to fall in love with so many people while dancing. My friends. My dear friends.
The set was over and the DJ kicked back in- spinning some far-out 45s from as far back as the mid 1950s. We Charlestoned towards the door but had no intentions of leaving. Joseph danced while rolling a new cigarette. Incredible really, the power of music.
Needless to say, I highly recommend seeing Eli and picking up his albums. Same goes for the Eccentric Soul series from the Numero group- cuts of which I think the DJ actually spinned.
I solemnly swear to randomly go to any and all soul shows I can find from this day forth.
Three McDonald hamburgers, two glasses of whiskey and one hour later, we were in Cambridge watching an opening act by the name of Spirit Kid. They sound like a good Beatles power-pop group. The lead singer looked a little like my friend Joseph. I was already dancing like a fool and the main act hadn't even come out yet (granted it doesn't take much to get me dancing like a fool.)
The True lovers came out with a pretty strong looking brass section wearing dark sunglasses and solemn expressions on their faces. I turned to Joseph and said "They better open with a horn hit." Sure enough. In total Blues Brother fashion (second call back of the night), the horns hit hard, and the band came in while the keyboard player gave an introduction to our hero Eli that grabbed the room's pre-show tension by the balls.
"...Ladies and Gentlemen, Eli 'Paperboy' Reeeeeeeeeeeed!"
The lad came out looking like Michael Buble as a greaser. A good pompadour is something to covet and I coveted the hell out of it. He took a confident stride to the microphone, grabbed it savagely and let out a yelp. The band went full tilt. The house exploded. The man simply did not stop. He opened his mouth and nothing but soul came out of it for over an hour. He channeled all the masters of soul and didn't scrimp on the showmanship. At times his voice gave me chills, sounding like he swallowed an old transistor radio.
I simply did not stop dancing. Neither did my friends. Alberto with Miriah. Joe with Monica. Audrey with Me. Me with Miriah. Joe with Alberto. It went on and on. We were so happy and angelic. It was impossible for any bad vibrations to creep into the room. It's so wonderful to fall in love with so many people while dancing. My friends. My dear friends.
The set was over and the DJ kicked back in- spinning some far-out 45s from as far back as the mid 1950s. We Charlestoned towards the door but had no intentions of leaving. Joseph danced while rolling a new cigarette. Incredible really, the power of music.
Needless to say, I highly recommend seeing Eli and picking up his albums. Same goes for the Eccentric Soul series from the Numero group- cuts of which I think the DJ actually spinned.
I solemnly swear to randomly go to any and all soul shows I can find from this day forth.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Back for more, four minutes later
NFL play off picks:
Baltimore upset Pittsburgh but not by much
Green Bay over Atlanta
Chicago butt rape Seattle
New England butt rape New York
"Remember the sabbath and perform sodomy."
Baltimore upset Pittsburgh but not by much
Green Bay over Atlanta
Chicago butt rape Seattle
New England butt rape New York
"Remember the sabbath and perform sodomy."
Obligatory First Post Title
It seems appropriate to start this blog around 3 am EST. This is when I supposedly come up with my wackiest ideas. That and I haven't been able to sleep since noon on New Year's Day, and with the NFL play-off games and two Bruins games this weekend, that won't be changing anytime soon.
I turn off all my distractions at 3:30 am EST. I fall asleep at 4. I wake up at noon. There has to be another way.
I have not had this irregular of a sleep pattern since my freshman year of college. I also had nearly crippling depression that year but that's for another time.
Maybe it's best to do a bit of an introduction in this first post. I am an artist, a writer, a music lover, and I sound like Batman when I'm drunk. I create videos that can be found on Vimeo. I'll add a link as soon as I learn how. I draw inspiration from odd pop songs and suburban supermarkets. I often wish I was swimming despite the fact I'm a terrible swimmer and nearly drowned a few years ago. When I get bored, I often play with this little groove in one of my front teeth with my right thumb nail. I'd like to be a father someday. The sandwich is the greatest invention mankind has come up with. I will not sleep with anyone who do not find Carl Reiner and Mel Brooks' "2000 Year Old Man" albums pure genius nor anyone who is not moved deeply by the Beach Boy's "God Only Knows." These are tough stipulations, but everyone needs standards.
I'm rambling and will most likely regret creating this blog in the morning. That's the way it goes.
I turn off all my distractions at 3:30 am EST. I fall asleep at 4. I wake up at noon. There has to be another way.
I have not had this irregular of a sleep pattern since my freshman year of college. I also had nearly crippling depression that year but that's for another time.
Maybe it's best to do a bit of an introduction in this first post. I am an artist, a writer, a music lover, and I sound like Batman when I'm drunk. I create videos that can be found on Vimeo. I'll add a link as soon as I learn how. I draw inspiration from odd pop songs and suburban supermarkets. I often wish I was swimming despite the fact I'm a terrible swimmer and nearly drowned a few years ago. When I get bored, I often play with this little groove in one of my front teeth with my right thumb nail. I'd like to be a father someday. The sandwich is the greatest invention mankind has come up with. I will not sleep with anyone who do not find Carl Reiner and Mel Brooks' "2000 Year Old Man" albums pure genius nor anyone who is not moved deeply by the Beach Boy's "God Only Knows." These are tough stipulations, but everyone needs standards.
I'm rambling and will most likely regret creating this blog in the morning. That's the way it goes.
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