Fussy Records

a word for love that is best and only truly understood by you

2010-06-04T23:12:00.000-07:00

The nominal you, I love. I can fairly guarantee that it is the solar waves of a summer heat that gets me glowing enough to spout off of the top out from the top o' my hairy dome with affectionate rays, these sapphire bullets of pure love, to paraphrase the Mahavishni... and They Might Be Giants... and a band that's actually called sapphire bullets of pure love: as stated previously, at a base level you are all-right in my book. Beyond that, right now and here; you're a delight and I'm grateful.

I've been dreaming; in actuality, trying to have had a dream of a; jellyfish: this is the closest thing to what I think of a jellyfish when I think of you.

You know; when I get down, I try to remember that Celine likes to make people laugh: I'd bet her butler loves her.

I cruise an inadmissable amount of vintage hairstyle photo archives, but, when one contains an album entitled The Italian Boy Look, I listen.

Patricia Piccinini first came to my notice based on some sculptures she did of these hybrid hairless homonid types (I see images of them turn up in those impulse banner ads from time to time: "Is this a nuclear mutant hybrid result of genetic testing? Click here to find out the answer and apply for an online college at the same time.). Her short film The Gathering, kind of brought me to a halt for a second.

I like Martin Parrs's stuff; his Bored Couples series reminds me of this Jon Brion lyricv: Setting traps out in advance/So we could spend the weekend staring in a trance.

The Boton Public Library's photostream is amazing.

Louisiana, as well...

and lastly a dash of Ottoman Calligraphy; I'm hung-over and need breakfast.

Moving...

2010-05-16T10:05:00.000-07:00

I'm doing most of my posting at frightenedfields now. Hope to see you there

Back, in subdued effect.

2008-10-03T13:46:00.000-07:00

Alright monkeys. I'm back. I'm gonna aim for weekly updates until I get the nerd at home.

aaaah

2007-06-03T02:14:00.000-07:00

almost finished moving to new flat. will get the internerd there, so expect more soon.

few and far

2007-03-25T02:59:00.000-07:00

I wish I had internet connection in my flat. I would update this with frequency, and I would respond to all those emails from freinds that are drifting further away... sigh. Oh well. I've been keeping a list of things that I want to post on, as opposed to surfing until I found something quirky to comment on. Here we go. First up in my little notebook is Sister Corita.
This is going to be a slapdash affair, but I've got stuff to do today.

I went to Vienna last weekend. I must say that some of the sweetest people I know are Austrian Anarchists. I caught lots of great ART, but this lady blew me away ; Elke Krystufek.

I've got tons more, but I feel the need to leave this cafe and walk around.. Iwas going to write about Jeff Goldblum, DOn Rickles (totally still alive), and my undying love for purple rain...

Lord loves a LuWorm

2007-02-26T06:05:00.000-08:00

I was all warmed up to do a rockin' Memphis Minnie post, but I got sidetracked... it happens. I was flipping through pictures that I took whilst walking around during my first few weeks here. It was strange to knit those far-away unknowables with what has become relatively familiar. I didn't realize it then, but I was absolutely on fire on September 19th of last year. These meager few are perfect examples of my generic approach to photographic composition. I could shoot for the rest of my life, and never feel comfortable with what I'm doing with my corners..

Soooo, that gives a rough idea of an average day for me. I'll be getting internerd in my flat soon, then the real deal will be back in effect. Go ahead and call it a come-back. PS Lord loves a LuWorm most particularly for referencing Ukelele Spaghetti when I mentioned Bob Brozman. Dig up a copy of Blue Hula Stomp!

Kinesthesis

2007-02-18T03:40:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I remember where I am, and it puts me in my place. I get exposed to the foreign and familiar with such regularity, that I hardly notice the whirl anymore. I was wandering home last night, and decided to hop a cab. Dawn was rapidly approaching, and I had a bad feeling about a dark alley, plus the cab was right in front of me as I rounded the corner, thinking that I'd never find one. It's strange being and feeling alone on the other side of the world in the middle of the night with a bellyful of Becherovka... then you hop in a cab and Chet Baker is on the radio singing My Funny Valentine. It brought me to a screeching halt. I get plenty of familiar music here, but this was something I truly liked. I talked to the cabbie in my horribly broken Czech about how great I think that song is. We agreed that people don't cotton to Jazz or good music in general anymore. I looked out the window...

It seemed to make perfect sense...

Enough self-important musings. Here's more stupid RTP shi(r)t for the kiddies...

If I started a band, I would call it The Damned Monkeytraps. I stumbled onto some fantastic Bob Brozman clips on Youtube. Many of them have better (read as more) musical performance, but this one is particularly delightful, as brother lays it all out.

What else have I been obsessing over lately? Try Goldie Hawn. SOmeone accused me of liking her only because she's hot. I told them to watch Seems Like Old Times. I could list a dozen movies that I absolutely love her in, without even getting to Private Benjamin. It all starts with Laugh-In, because I'm a huge fucking nerd-o, but, I mean, Jesus, that bikini is iconic to me still.

I've also been trying to absorb all of the Zach Galifianakis that I can. He cracks my shit up. Poke around his site and watch the Fiona Apple Video... seriously.

I've been spun a little on Billy the Kid, as well. Mostly 'cause of the movie, and mostly 'cause of the soundtrack.

Oh yeah! Happy New Year, my little piggies!

Happy Birthday, Yoko Ono!!!

Thank you for Australians, Baby Jesus.

Speaking of Antipodea, watch The Proposition. I'd have checked it out, simply because Nick Cave wrote and scored it, but I watched it twice daily for a week because it's... don't know the word, just watch... I still get all gut-wrenched when the elder brother says, "Why don't you ever just... stop me?"

Ciao for now...

For Olan

2007-02-17T01:19:00.000-08:00

I know that I've got some faithful left out there in the ether, but the only one I am certain that still takes a stab at this near-dead site is the big O. Well buddy, this one's for you... I'm rusty, so bear with me. We'll start with the old one-two of cheesecake/comic covers...

I should have never started thinking about cheesecake. I could be at this all day...

Alrighty, howzabout some Kuti?

Dang Dude

2006-10-28T01:42:00.000-07:00

It's been almost a month since I posted here. I've been rocking 60 hour weeks, and don't have much time for anything else. It's not that I haven't thought about both of my loyal readers, rather, it's that I've wandered into a shut down mode.
All day, I roll over witty headings for my inevitable next post. I realized that my humor is nothing but dumb puns, for the most. It almost got hopeless. I'd note odd occurrences or peculiar situations to relate. I had begun the long slide towards becoming one of those guys that mutters to himself, feeling self-important and philosophical. On that note, I'll speak up.
I stay away from my flat, even when I'm not working. I'm usually out all day on the weekends and walking. I enjoy joining tour groups. I never actually make the jump to talking with the other members. The main reason for this is that I usually go along with the Russians, Koreans, and Japanese. I eventually split when thay start to notice that I stop and gawk with them.
That leads to this; Men with guns are patrolling the streets of Staromestska and the metro lines. Apparently, some evidence of a potential terrorist plot against the Jewish Quarter, and, by extension, the city itself has come to light. My fanciful mind calls up Brazil, the movie. This info is most likely coming from people who would benefit from having European countries that are on the fence in regards to the recent actions in Oil Country a little worked up about the threat of the brown people from that part of the world and their intentions to kill everything. Czechs are laid back about this kind of stuff. Their attitude is "don't tell me what to do, and I won't tell you what to do." They're allowed this in the world stage, mostly because they aren't much of a power, economically or militarily. It would, however, be another name on the list that GW could show, saying all the while, the Czechs are cool with us fucking with Iran...
I digress. Everyone's a little on edge, and guys with machine guns are patrolling the streets. I heard a fighter jet fly by more than once this morning, and I wondered if I should go and watch the news. A week ago, I was getting on the Metro at Mustek, and an official looking fella was standing by the entrance to the compulsory ticket area at the head of the lengthy escalator. I felt a rush of panic. I don't know why. I had a valid ticket. It's just that the people were lined up, as opposed to rushing through the gates and down to the trains. I thought, "I don't have my passport. " My mind started racing. "Are they looking for bombs?" I really worked myself into a tizzy, and considered walking right out of the station, when a woman with a variety, I'm talking a wide spectrum, of problems, (Mental, Physical, Emotional, et.al), fell down the escalator, and the waiting crowds went nuts, all whooping and hollering. Then it hit me. They're taking retards to the zoo (I'm only paraphrasing The Dead Milkmen, I'd never be so insensitive and crass). It was a field trip from the asylum. I got in line, and went with the flow.
Where a normal tour group glances at me uncomfortably when they realize they've got an other in the group, these guys, the ones with the wherewithal to realize that I'd worked myself into the middle of their group, stared at me like fucking psychoes. I smiled back, and felt great doing it.

Well, I was going to post some mixmusic for the folks back home, but ezarchive is cramping my style. Maybe next time. I'm all jacked up on some high graged granola, fruit, caffe latte, a little fresh squeezed, and a bazillion endless cigarettes, so let's see what I had prepared a month ago... nothing...
Not only has my cd drive completely quit working, but, apparently, my bookmarks folder has been wiped from my computer. I'm pissed now. More later...

Far & Few

2006-09-11T05:59:00.000-07:00

I work 12 hour days. I get up at 6:30 in the morning, and my last lesson finishes at 6:30. I'm teaching (2 and 3-year-olds) at a pre-school for five hours, then off to synagogue to teach the Rabbi's 6-year-old, and I finish with adults at various locations throughout town. It's a wear, but fulfilling. It helps that I listen to this most mornings, if I can. It's postal workers cancelling stamps in Ghana. Put it on repeat and try not to feel better by a smidge.

I just heard that the Crocodile Hunter died. I don't know. I can't count the times that I saw him fucking with a cobra or trying to hug a badger and thought that I can't wait for the inevitable show where he finally gets it. Don't get me wrong. It sucks the dude died, but it's hard (for a meager misanthrope as I) not to have thoughts like that when he would announce that he was going to do something seemingly suicidally perilous. "My breath reeks of KFC and I'm gonna give this alligator a little smooch." Do it. Do it. Do it. Today's going to be the day. I'm disenheartened that he was just swimming along, and wham... Bye Buddy. I hope you're fucking with dangerous animals on some higher plane.

The whistling postal workers got me thinking sonically. Peep this shit. I know. I am a cruel bastard.

Speaking of finding shit with sound, found sound.

I steal music... from here.

and here.

OK, enough of that. Chech out some quirky mag covers...

I'm too pooped to pope. Until next time, remember that it's about a blank who wants to blank.

Onkel Zbyndas Winterrock

2006-09-03T03:22:00.000-07:00

OK, It seems that I've figured out how to post MP3s. I plan on putting up Czech rarities for the kids back home. Here is a little something called Big Mac by OZW, or Onkel Zbyndas Winterrock from their album Nevergreeny. It's hard to dig up English info on most of these underground groups, and my Czech is meager, at best. I've focused my search on Black Point Label. They haven't led me astray, yet. I found their store while I was wandering the streets one day. It's a total tiny record shop, and I felt immediately at home. Their vinyl was just three pitiful boxes with Styx and Wings and whatnot. I'm off the wax for now anyhow. I was disappointed by the fact that it was just garage sale junk... Then I stumbled onto a mint condition Nick Cave & Die Haut. I had to step away from the wax, but I felt a renewed interest to peruse further. The cat behind the counter seemed a little "eh. I work in a record store, but eh..." I approached him with my mangled Czech. "Hello. I am looking for Czech underground (I actually said Alternatif. Forgive me, but that's what they say.)" He kept pulling out Ska. "No Ska... Please. (Ska being a four-letter word, for me.)" It wasn't working, and his Cosby sweater was forcing me to lose steam. "What do you like? What is new and good?" He recommended the new Red Hot Chili Peppers... I actually frowned. He motioned for me to wait a minute. He went into the back and came out with an absolute record nerd bruiser. A Tubby guy with thick-ass Birth COntrol glasses and a bright red Residents T-Shirt. That frown turned right the fuck upside-down. He didn't speak a lick of English, but he knew exactly what I was talking about. "BlahBlahBlah King Crimson. BlahBlah Zappa. Blahblah Devo." He would grin and nod and come back with a stack of exactly what I wanted. His name is Vasek (Vash-eck). He rocks. He's not a snob:He's a nerd...

What do Bob Dylan, Malcom X, John F. Kennedy, and Fidel Castro have in common?

While I'm getting my nerd on, does anyone remember Mouse?

One blow music/ethno-music/cheesecake/picture gallery geekout, then onto some other nonsense. Turkish Record Covers.

Howzabout the requisite photo site? I know it's not Russian, but the dude's name is Sacha... Waldman, if you're nasty.

Some housecleaning. Do you need a stupid/strange/quirky/offensive/offbeat photo to identify your unique and individaul self to others on MySpace? Steal one from here.

Or an animated gif?

I'm beat. Keep 'em peeled. I'll be back. Meanwhile, I know it's not PC to call orcas Killer Whales, but it's better than Africanized Dolphins.

Try, try again

2006-08-25T05:14:00.000-07:00

Can you hear more than 17 seconds of this?

Pozor Na Kradeze

2006-08-24T03:31:00.000-07:00

I need to take the time to set up my keyboard with the Czech alphabet. My Czech is still so meager, but I've trained myself to read it as written. That is the beauty of this seemingly unapproachable language. If you know the sounds of the letters, then you can have a pretty good idea of how it is pronounced (not that I can pronounce it correctly). I write Rehorova, a street in my hood, on this keyboard, and it looks wrong to me, because, with the correct Czech letters, it is pronounced Rzh-ye-horzh-oh-vya. Even the unaccented letters can be a mouthful. Ice cream is Zmrzlina (pronounced just as written).
My reason for wanting to use the correct letters, is that I am going to start hosting MP3s of Czech Underground groups (get them while they're hot), and I don't want to diss the artists by misspelling their names. I know I'm picky, but the difference between Ess and Shhh can mean the difference between Shit and Sit. I digress.
I'm a total nerdo, but this is my desktop wallpaper and it makes me smile...

Well, It's been awhile since I posted some good old-fashioned smut. I've been delving into Freudian theory in my free time, and the last week or so was all about phobia. It got me thinking about Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds. Watch it and think long and hard (I told you I've been reading too much Freud) about the tiess between birds and female fear... Blahblah. I was looking for images to tie with this tangent that has yet to materialize and I found old pictures of boobies. 'Nuff said.

We now return to your regular broadcast. I'm not much of one for the cartoony in my hard art, but Buzelli's work is simply adorable...

Gottfried Helnwein's work, on the other hand, is decidedly not adorable...

I've written lots about my undying admiration for Guy Bourdin. He took great shoe pictures. Sophie Delaporte has a similar feel. It's kind of what I like about Roxy Music album covers. They're ostensibly hot, and undeniably cold.

I was missing my pal, Ekwador, and went looking for shots like these. S-I-T-B, yo.

OK. One more artso-fartso, then onto the usual mindless inter-fare. Shivs...

Let's see... Mindless... Hmmm... Howzabout Drunk Animals? Yeah, that'll do.

I've been missing the SQUIRM, so I've been getting my SKRONK where I can... Poke around here for more.

More later. Get your feet set...

This is just a test...

2006-08-23T05:22:00.000-07:00

I want to post MP3s. Comment if you can hear THIS. It's by a Czech group called Marno Union.

redyellowgreenyellowred

2006-08-21T06:19:00.000-07:00

OK, Let's see what I can do in the hour before my lesson. It'll be sloppy, but what do you want for nothing? I'm just going to post in order from my "stuff I found on the internerd" folder. Conceptual continuity be damned! First up, a painter that I've admired for a long time, Inka Essenhigh. She's done tons of stuff (I love her boy's wallpaper series from way back), but, now that she's using oil, her work is super-rocking. Granted, Comic books have informed almost every aesthetic filter I have installed in my brainpan (no shame), but her work goes well beyond comic-booky. I dug her up at the Saatchi site, which is well worth perusing for new desktop wallpaper or ironic myspace icons.

Waits is touring stateside. No word on any shows on my side of the pond. I'll just hold my breath and rock back and forth until I can get my grubby mitts on this.

Here's a droplet for my laptop maestroes. Grab some Gojira soundtracks.

I found a big spider in my bathroom last night, or, rather, he found me. I never thought that he'd make a nice brooch.

Not to be a retro-slut, but this shit is cool NOW.

On the obverse, this shit was never cool. I was talking with Barndance about a Currier & Ives Crucifix that he has hanging at Ipso Facto. We got onto their Darktown series. It's not one that people mention when they discuss the legacy of C&I.

On a lighter note... Pictures of kids doing cute stuff. It's like Anne Geddes, but a tad rougher. (PS my obligatory Russian photo site)

Fatty Arbuckle won't be my friend on MySpace... Read.

Everyone has heard the Wilhelm Scream.

I did all this in 45 minutes...

Wouldn't you miss me? (Dark Globe)

2006-08-12T02:19:00.000-07:00

Well, It's been almost a month, so I've probably lost both of my faithful readers (you know who you are...). Sorry 'bout that. I'm going to strive to make this a weekly post. That seems realistic. Keep the Faith.

KJP and I took a daytrip up to Kutna Hora a few weeks ago. It's home the one of the most important silver mines of the olden days, a ton of Communist Palankas, a cathedral or two... oh yeah, and the Kostnice Ossuary.

It's powerful, being in a church cellar filled with bones. My emotions vacillated betwixt the recognition of a Archetypically Jungian sacred place, redolent with ancestral calm, and a rocking case of the heebie-jeebies.
The skulld have me thinking of the few who've passed since I've posted last. 3 come to mind.
; Masashi Kitamura, Arthur Lee, and Syd Barrett. Kitamura came to me late in the formation of taste. Lee never really blew my mind. Syd... I can't say enough.
It was Opel that turned me on to him. I know the early Floyd, and, admittedly, it was a coyote guide on more than one confused and colorful night spent during mis-directed adolescence. It was his delicate solo songs that hit home with me. The rhythm on Rats alone is enough to bend your mind if you lend an ear. He sums it up for me at the end of Dolly Rocker when his strumming finally just falls to pieces and he sighs "oh my". I don't feel as though I can express to what degree he helped me in my own darkest days. People talk about the tragedy of a lost genius. I think that's selfish. I feel that the delicate meat of his loss is that he wanted to be in a band and meet girls, and it all went soso wrong. "oh my"

Well, let's move onto what else I missed whilst on hiatus. Once again, GW puts his best foot forward on this side of the ocean. Meeting with the biggest economic powerhouse in the EU? Butter her (that's right! a chick! In charge, no less!) up with a little vulcan nerve pinch.

Ah, Mel Gibson... Christopher Hitchens says it more eloquently than I ever could, as per usual. I mean, he refers to that one Jesus movie as a "twistedly homoerotic spank-movie."

While we're on Nazis, read up on Heydrich. KJP and I were wandering the streets and came upon the orthodox cathedral of Cyril and Methodius. We went to the basement on a whim, and found out about the parachutists. In short, 4 Czech resistance fighters dropped into Bohemia in order to kill Reinhardt Heydrich. He was Hitler's solution to the "Jewish Problem." These Parachutists dropped in on a purely suicidal mission just to take out this piece of aryan white shit. They ran right up to his motorcade and dropped a grenade in his lap. To the scumbag's credit, he held on for a few days. The Czechs hid out in the basement of this cathedral. For a second, they had a chance of surviving. The church was covering for them. Hitler was shitting his shorts. then, one of their buddies ratted them out. Almost instantly, the cathedral was surrounded. These guys were down in the crypt with half the nazi forces outside of the door. They can't give up, because that would mean unspeakable torture, and, plus, they've gone this far to give up without a scrap. They sit in the tombs, shooting any nazis coming through the door. At one point, the rat who snitched even stuck his head over the hole, telling them to give up. What do do? These guys started digging like absolute madmen. They took a metal pole and started to dig into solid rock in a last-ditch effort to make it to freedom via the sewers. They dug about 8 feet into concrete, brick and rock with a 4-foot metal pole. This is with a bazillion Nazis beating down the door. Alas, they saved a bullet apiece for when all hope was truly lost. They used those 4 bullets. Hitler responded by killing all the church leaders and their extended families. He levelled the town the parachutists were from, killing everyone in it.

I've been reading tons of Freudian theory lately. I'm more interested in his influences and the prototypical sources of the talking cure. For the last few weeks it's been hysteria, phobia, and perversion as they relate to Mesmerism. This cat, Charcot, was a big influence on Sigmund. He crystallizes something unnameable that I feel about the role of the analyst in analysis (Heisenberg, I might be looking in your direction). Anyhow, enough of the boring history and blahblah. I just think it's funny that Freud had this painting of Charcot in mid-session at Salpêtrière hanging above his couch.I wonder what little Hans thought, or, more importantly, Dora...

As an aside (think Parfait), has anyone seen any Waits shows? I want details.

Well, let's get the photo bizness out of the way. This page has tons of great stuff. Looklooklook!

This has been around awhile, but they still make me smile. How else to say it, but French women flashing a street photographer...

Check out Ernesto Timor. He's got so much work to peruse, and his links are worth a peek or two.

These are made of money... Holy Wow, Batman!

Sorry for the Robin quote, but how else was I supposed to preface a worthless page like this? Who wants a new desktop wallpaper?

Again, yet another validation for spending time sifting through Russian Photo pages...

Sometimes, when I see a tram go by with its windows full of people, I think of the last supper. Now, I think of spools of thread, too.

Dave's in Japan.

It's a little late in an already lengthy post to start talking about Japanese stuff that I find to be cool, but you have to peep this little fella out.

Mis-printed Type...

In conclusion, Slime Moulds move...

sorrysorrysorry

2006-07-18T12:33:00.000-07:00

I know, no posts. I'll get on it. KJP is in PRG, and all is well. Much love to my cats and kittens, and I'll get back with y'all ASAP.

One Day Away

2006-07-05T04:55:00.000-07:00

It's official. KJP will be here in 24 hours, or less! No time to post. Things to do.
Here's a painting that I'm probably, at least, halfway done with doing... It's a Shark-In-The-Boat.

Memorial Barbecue

2006-07-02T04:07:00.000-07:00

Dolphy died in '64 on a day last week. I didn't realise it until I stumbled across a painting that Bill Cosby has hanging in his house. I had seen it years ago in a documentary on DOlphy and his last days. I view him as among the first of the breed of educated Jazz musicians. He wasn't a juke joint boogie type, and seemed to avoid the whole Thelonius NYC heroin wave. He walked a straight line into musical freedom. Listening to his Five SPot recordings, I am reminded that he figured out what it took free jazz years to learn: 8 people onstage blowing their guts out is actually very limiting. Ornette got hung up on Harmolodics. He did so much, then, next thing you know, Jamaladeen Tacuma is laying down instantly dated Pastorian Bass tone over cheese-ass Jerry Garcia guitar riffs. Ayler had this heartbreaking darkness to expunge. He hammered a stage full of noisy out honkers into sub/pre-primal gospel dirges, sturdy enough to bear the heartbreak. So many others... Sun Ra, Trane(grab these interviews), any of the Europeans, but Dolphy always felt like he was stretching. This has all been written about by betters: I was just thinking about Eric Dolphy, is all.
I just wish that I could find his recordings of Varese...

I know a nerd or two in Michigan that would love to diddle a Samchillian. I saw one of these played with the Yohimbe Brothers. Vernon Reid had the line of the night. "Look at that white boy... typin' his ass off!"

Let's get the musical stuff of this morning out. I know it's a little Windham Hill to admit it, but Harp Guitars are so cool.

Let's get artsy fartsy for a sec. I remember seeing this old guy in Staromestska Square. It was still cold then, and he was wearing a top hat while playing along to a dinged up micro-boombox. The song? Brazil. I'm thinking about Peru...

I've been thinking about doing some alternative photographic processe. Peepe these badass ambrotypes.

WHat to say about the graphical representation of mathematical functions in spatial fields of motion? I like the colours.

I Towards a Philosophy of Photography, Barthes writes about the posture one assumes when they are posing for a picture. I bet he would think this is as funny as I do...

OK, OK, I know what you're thinking... It's been twenty minutes, and no songs about food. Howzabout you chew on the coolest bike.

Or, play this...

Here's a painting I did the other day...

Pregnant Sleep (grappling with Freud)

2006-06-29T02:59:00.000-07:00

The last few nights have been full to the brim with a motley mishmash of strange dreaming. Granted, the Train Station Morlocks (I know, so UN-PC) at Hlavni Nadrazi and Masarykovo Nadrazi are enough to bring up Bosch from the cellar.

Just the other morning, I was a barkeep in a Gaiman Tavern. A hundred gladiators hustled through the entryway and past me. They insisted that they were on their way to phase three... "What's phase three?" Even in dreams, I can't keep my trap shut. Phase three, you see, involves chopping down the forest. KJP called me in the middle of that one, thankfully.

Jayne Mansfield died today in '67. I always think of that scene from the movie Crash (the cool Cronenberg one... SPADER!) where they recreate her tragic accident. Oh! The little dog! ProtoMansfieldians and subsequent clonage...

In my opinion, none of these ladies hold a candle to the inimitable Louise Brooks.

She, herself, only pales in comparison to the beautiful Ms. KJP.

I will not have to miss my Lady, but for a few short days more. KJP will be living in Prague in less than a week! I'm just thrilled. No more late-night mope fests for the Kid.

rrr... I was going to post on Devo 2.0 (Devo in a joint venture with Disney?) I couldn't bring myself to do it. I wonder if they will play sloppy. Listen to sound effects instead.

Nothing says summer to me like Mormons in wet culottes...

USB Recordable Turntable, for people that listen to records...

For some reason, I don't think that Borat will play in the CR. I'll take a train to London to see it, if I have to do so.

Kde je moje divka?

2006-06-24T05:03:00.000-07:00

KJP will be here in no time.

My online time has become more than a little scattershot. Let's see what floats to the top this morning... Let's start with a heapin' helpin' of Brazilian music videos. I stumbled across this page looking for Os Mutantes stuff, what with their big documentary coming out...

Where from there? Cool pics.

Play the Pianola. It can get annoying fast, so, restrain yourself.

I wish I had more Bruce McCulloch. I was singing Eraserhead the other day when I realized that I missed his stuff.

Have you seen the video for Mojo by Peeping Tom yet? KJP and I are going to try to see them in Belgium. I cannot wait. It's got DeVito innit.
My Dad would always sing this song when I was little.

I can't help but smirk as I write this... Badass Watermelon Carving.

Detroit Rock City. I hear that my wearing of Tigers Apparel is longer to be construed as ironic. Truth be told, it never was.

Red Suit Will Take Over The World!

2006-06-21T10:46:00.000-07:00

KJP will be here in a New York minute. Peep the pic page, and just wait for a million more...

Got lots of picture pages (cue Cosby muzak) in my temp folder. Let's get them out into the open... These were unexpected and good.

These aren't photos, but they make me wish that I could silkscreen T-shirts...

I also wish that I could speak Russian. I've been trolling their sites for a long time, and it would be much easier if I could decipher cyrillic.

One thing that my brother and I have in common is a post-hipster unironic admiration of 80s music... Their videos are another matter, altogether (you know what to do, Shirley).

I was looking for some recordings of Dreamies. It's some old proto-psychfolk that is talked of in hushed whispers amongst vinyl nerdlings. It seems the cat bought a recording studio, laid down some astonishing drone bizness, dropped the wax (1 epic track per side), then went back to being an accountant. I don't know if this has anything to do with him, but I like it.

Sometimes, I really miss my home. Sometimes, I read stuff like this about my hometown area...

I do miss my wax stacks.

I hear that my Detroit Tigers are halfway through a record-breakingly great season. Thinking about how that makes me feel, having been the butt of countless jokes about my Tigers apparel for years, in combination with the current world cup fever sweepingthe... well, the rest of the world reminds me of the true dignity at the core of honest athletic competition. Tigers rule, assholes.

Chabon says that the The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay movie might be moving ahead! If you haven't partaken, READ THIS BOOK... I mean it.

What else to say, but yodelling prodigy...

African albinism. Tangentially, I think Yellowman is coming to Belgium soon.

This mag has some great artists. Check out their recommendation pages.

Staley Wise has all the hits...

With your Birthday, Much Luck & Happiness

2006-06-16T08:05:00.000-07:00

First things first, It's KJP's Birthday! It's her last night at work, her last show in Three Oaks as a res tomorrow, and then, naught but a hop, skip, and a jump to old Prague town! I can't wait to see her. If you can, extend the warmest wishes to her, because she deserves the best B-day ever.

Now, onto the usual bizness...Check out Ray Caesar.

If you want to look at art, devote a few hours to this. I got lost in it, and have been happily stuck.

I can't wait for KJ. I think she would fit right in with this group. Lots of this work is well worth a lengthy look.

KJP and I share a mild obsession with celebrity and its vagaries. This guy does great portraits, but I really love the layout of his site. Enjoy.

This is kind of fun, playing with interaction.

Happy Birthday, Beautiful!

Elephant's Gerald

2006-06-15T01:56:00.000-07:00

First, I made some offhanded joke about Jerry Lewis yesterday, and he has a heart attack. Sorry, bud, but there ain't no sorry for The Day the Clown cried. I'll just say that IMDB's plot outline starts with " Jerry Lewis plays a Nazi clown who leads children to the gas chamber in a concentration camp..." Where does one go from there? Well, I did manage to dig up this image of JL from the set...

Who left to offend? As far as being offended, I got really desensitized working in Amish country. Rush Limbaugh could hardly wrankle my ire. Ann Coulter, however, always managed to push my buttons. Rollins agrees...

I must admit, particularly after having a lengthy discussion with my students about their perception of US's cultural identity, I don't miss that close/no-minded hillbilly shit.

I'm moving on from that rant. Dave is gone, and I am bummed. Nerdo homeboy wanted!

I wish I was as cool as Mark Jenkins.

I've long had a fascination with elephants.

These people feel that same, albeit, demonstrably so.

Have to split. In the meantime, look at lava...

Or Vincent at the supermarket...

Rolodeces

2006-06-14T03:13:00.000-07:00

Weird thoughts have been visiting me at night. The plural of rolodex, and the fact that they put bibles in hotel rooms struck me as odd. Quick post, and then I am off to my lessons. Firstly, I stumbled across the work of Gary Evans. He's showing paintings at the Prague Bienniale. I don't want to miss that. His stuff reminds me of KJP's.

While we're on the Artyfarty, I've been digging Misha Gravenor. Phot diptychs will eternally remind me of Ralph Gibson, I like her stuff on its own merits.

Nothing else to say about these, except AWESOME RUSSIAN PHOTOS. I want posters of all of them! This guy did some advertising for Vodaphone that is everywhere. It's 12:22... again.

Hakki Ceylan. Cool pics.

I've been thing a lot about my friend, the #5, the 5% solution, the Throat Chakrashocker... step up to the Mic. That's Willie Nelson.

What's up with Karube Takehiro? I think he needs a hug.

Living in a land of fairy tale castles, I've sort of forgotten my penchant for modern ruins.

A couple of world wars, and you get ruins. That's for sure. I was talking with some students about the lasting effects of war and communism on Czech's cultural attitude. I had just watched Jon Stewart's post-9/11 monologue. They should play that in classrooms across the country. Thinking about that national tragedy made me realize that we are so fortunate that our taste of war at home is so miniscule in the grand scheme...

Now that I feel glum, draw a pig and find out what it says about your personality... I'm for serious. If all the war imagery didn't bring you down, here's a picture of Jerry Lewis. He's still alive...

Ziletky

2006-06-10T02:16:00.000-07:00

I assume my faithful readers (both) have already checked out my Plastic People of the Universe Said the Gramophone Psi Vojaci. It's good listening. I'm going to try to track down some more today. eMusic has MP3s, but I'm trying for freebies...

I can't wait to get to some of the art shows going on seemingly all over in this town. KJP and I caught the Saudek exhibit at Dům U bílého jednorožce. I think it translates to something like the house of the white unicorn. His work is really gender charged. Either you hate it or you love it or you don't feel too strongly either way, which is where I'm at. He does Photos, and his technical skill, outside of subject matter, is absolutely breathtaking.

He also paints.

I'm on the fence about Jan, but his partner, , has some more delicate work that covers similar territory.

Oh yeah. Saudek's work was used for that one Soul Asylum album cover. You know, the one with Runaway Train on it. Speaking of my Home away from, Czech Scientists have invented, wait for it, a new kind of beer. This one helps with the menopause... That's right, page. Well, Will Butler from The Arcade Fire has done a guest post at about another cool Czech band called the menopause.

I've been working on a short story about a man who visualizes the bones of batwings as fingers not wholly dissimilar to his own. Leonardo had a thought along the same lines, but his were for swimming.

Does anyone speak Russian?

I was in Millenium Park in Chicago. A two foot wide 3 foot high concrete wall surrounds the big metallic bean. I was tired from walking, and sat on it. Park security told me that I couldn't sit on this perfect place to sit in a park on a sunny day. My first thought was why not, which led to why. I just kept my trap shut and moved along.

I really wish that recordings of Blind Tom existed.

I'm a sucker for the cheesecake. Peep these.

I got a kick out of theseworks by Julian De Narvaez...

Well, hell. While I'm covering Frenchies with the middle name of De, here's Andre Martin de Barros.

I smile while walking

2006-06-09T04:00:00.000-07:00

I try so hard to be a rock animal. I have to walk through the City Centre and Old Town Square pretty much every day. I hit old town on my way to the synagogue. I talked to KJP the other day about how soon she'll be here. The idea of her being here for good had me pretty saturated with ebullience, but I digress. I have to keep my game face on, or I'll be harassed, and, more distressingly, slowed by bums, pushers, tourists, volunteer poll-takers... what have you. I have to be, or appear, stern. Not only don't-fuck-with-me, but more don't even fucking look at me, as I'm a man on a mission. I had a lesson with the triplets, Nadav, Ya'ir, and Naama. They are 6 and so cute. They get excited when I arrive. They are pleased to read and learn. Around the end of the lesson, the other children of Chabad House wander in and plead for little magic tricks. When I say the triplets are cute, it feels inadequate. They are soooooo cute.

After a great lesson with the little ones, I walked out into the square on cloud nine. I was grinning and immediately pestered by panhandlers. I just smiled and handed out "ne's", as opposed to my standard "zmiz's", Ne being no, and zmiz being beat it. I had a good long talk with Rabbi Barash. He's a reall cool cat. He's the younger one below...

Touched base with the Favorite son of Son of Krypton the other day. Puportedly, SQUIRM is close to finishing their album, and I'm excited for it.

OK. Prada's new campaign caught my eye. Great shoes, and the other pics are cool, too.

This shot seemed to be a little referential of Guy Bourdin's work, not that that's bad...

Then again, anything atmospheric with high heels makes me think of his stuff.

I'm on shoes because I was walking through the park at Riegrovy Sady early in the morning the other day, and came across a pair of womans shoes hooked on the lip of a stand-alone trash can... I really need to fix my camera for moments like that, but, alas. Let's switch gears here, and all watch a video of someone dancing with a skull.

I can make you see colour.

My friend, Dave, is leaving on Tuesday. It's such a drag. It seems that whenever I make a buddy, they leave. We went for Indian the other day at the place in my building. The front room was full of a big party of older Indian men. Towards the end of out meal, one of them started singing these beautiful Karnatic melodies while the other men clapped out polyrhythms. When he finished, the whole place applauded. I'm gonna miss that Dave.

For the last week, I've been listening to Penderecki at obscene volume on me lil' heddyphones. His massive crunch and ingenious skronk takes me aback. Find some and listen, especially if you're of the opinion that the avant is so at the sacrifice of emotionality and Ayler gospel dirges aren't your bag. I mean, just look at this...

World Cup is almost starting. None of my students want their lessons on Monday afternoon, as US and CR go head to head... I might want to cheach that out, on the other hand...

I've always had a softer spot for Beatles covers than for even the Beatles themselves. So many people chide a band for doing covers, but I think that's dismissive. Style is based on repitition, as Hartford says. I stumbled across a bunch of Beatles covers. Most of them smell like shit, but are good for novelty purposes. Scroll down this page and check out the KFC training tapes. They are sample gold. If there is one style of Obcerstveni that the Ceskia cannot get enough of, it is KFC. Golden arches are here and there, but KFC is fucking everywhere in this town.

More later. I need a break...

Rattenkonig

2006-05-26T04:31:00.000-07:00

I was doing my usual scholarly research on the internerd, and stumbled across something inordinately creepy. It's nothing as mundane as a two-legged dog, though that would freak me out, if I saw it walking towards me.

Naw, I'm talking about Rat Kings. They've popped up pretty frequently throughout European history, and, not surprisingly, are interpreted as bad omens. I cannot explain how archetypically unnerving this is to me...

If a suirrely mass of entangled rats manifesting itself doesn't make you feel like you've slept in the reptile house, then you're bolder than I. Go here, and I'll change the subject... Hell, I dunno... Howzabout Underpants Museum?

Hemaworstje has a new home! This guy is one of my regularly visited sites. He's an expert parvert, but, man, he does dig up some great stuff!

Gosh. Where else do I go to if I have a little time. Thighs Wide Shut has a good variety of celebrity news and obscuro nerdo linkage...

For the straight Celebrity scoop, I go to Golden Fiddle. Not the most comprehensive celeb news, but definitely the least annoying...

For MP3s, go to Fluxblog, and hit the links...

Busy yourselves with this nonsense. I'm going home to paint...

Fin-de-Siecle (Morbidity & the death of Sharks)

2006-05-23T05:35:00.000-07:00

The saddest little bits have been dropping out of me lately. I feel fine, and I didn't even notice until KJP pointed out my recent fixation on Bashed-in skulls, sharks and suicide notes. I'm going to exercise these demons, to see if'n I can't tucker them out... (along with my usual curios) On that note, shark-in-the-boat

I officially have Carcharodon carcharias out of the system. One more dark-hearted belch, and the kid will be A-OK... howzabout

and to ever-so-gently segue,

Now, on to the pop. I need this shirt...

Christians are still offended by anything Madonna does?

um... kind of running out of time/steam. Go here instead...

Really Annoying GW song...

Same in Anime...

Lovage Video...

Sequencer...

Mouse Games...

Chapel Perilous...

Animals on Subway maps...

Quodlibet (Autistic List-making)...

Grow a Brain...

La Petite Claudine...

The Reverse Cowgirl...

Enough is enough

2006-05-19T04:53:00.000-07:00

I've been stumped more than once lately. Yesterday, I tried to define "enough". It seems simple, and it would be if I knew the Czech word for enough. I consider myself to be pretty adept at conjuring similar words, or, worst-case, acting out what something means through gesticulant pantomime. Enough, however, brought me to a halt.
I try not to talk tootoo much about the difficulties involved in clarifying the vagaries of English grammar. I'm sure it's fascinating to read of my musings about with which verb tenses one can appropriately use "since", but I digress.
I taught my students the expression "keep a stiff upper lip". They asked me what "stiff" means...
I swear to god, all that went through my brain was "...ok, penispenispenis, erection, boner, penis, hard-on, arousalarousal, big boner... penispenispenis..." It was like a fat guy on a flimsy tenspeed slipping gears while going up a steep hill. I settled on telling them that stiff is hard and motionless. About a half-hour later, I blurted out "When you die, your body becomes stiff!" They just looked at me like I was asking for real estate advice from a pod of dolphins. Enough of that...
KJP's arrival is getting closer and closer, and I can't wait. Here's a gallery of Goddesses to give you an idea of how I feel about my gem of a princess...

KJ often quotes that one MNM song from 8mile. Jodie Foster does, too.

I don't know what's up with the Farytale Lady look I'm doing with today's pics, but here are a few more.

OK, one more link of ladies, and I'll have to change the subject. Gil Elvgren is the Norman ROckwell of smutty pin-up calendars.

Now I find myself in a quandary of a crossroads. What sorbet will cleanse my palate? Howzabout suicide notes?

Now, that's just sad...

Championshit

2006-05-17T06:35:00.000-07:00

My buddy, Matt, makes the best cup of coffee in the US! I thought that was cool. He's hopping the puddle on his quest to be the best in the world.

Matt's a badass international star barista, and SQUIRM/Zappa mixeyMashups are selling for hundreds on eBay...

Well, the boys are blowing up, and success is in the air. The last two days in old Prague town have been filled with some serious old-school Brothers Grimm-type rainstorms... slamming windows and pounding rain. I don't mind. I've started painting, so I hardly even noticed...

It's not done, and I'm worried that all the colors are running together into brown. I really liked the cover for Vespertine by Bjork. It's by this coolcat, Erez Sabag. His stuff is so gentle in comparison to the conceptual gutwrench of the album work, but I like, I like...

He reminds me of my favorite, Lee Friedlander, in many ways...

selling seashells to a seahorse

2006-05-16T01:34:00.000-07:00

Whew! I just got the videodownloader for Mozilla that allows one to grab videos off of YouTube. I plan to spend every free second I have filling my hard drive with Tom Waits and John Hartford video. I haven't really poked around the site so much, because I would have to stream it, as opposed to soaking it up in my natural habitat. Now, it's on...

I don't know if I should bother with an all-out post on TW or JH. I figure that all the FoRTP are already pretty familiar... Maybe another day. In searching for Derek Bailey info, I stumbled across a great performance space that Zorn has started. It's called The Stone. If you read the calendar section, and don't perk up at one name or another, then go to NYC and get educated.

I've seen NY hotspots for the uberhip come and go from my distant third party perspective. The Knitting Factory and Tonic spring to mind. The Stone is so heartily idealistic that I belive/hope it works. I mean, Carla Kihlstedt and Zeena Parkins?

I first stumbled across Kihlstedt's work through my insane search to own a copy of every sound Tom Waits has recorded. He sat in on a Tin Hat Trio song called Helium, from the album of the same name. I was intrigued by Tin Hat. They had three albums out, and each featured a guest vocalist on one track:Mike Patton, Tom Waits, and Willie Nelson. They, apparently, have been reading my diary. The more I found out about CK, the more motivated I was to find more. I'll always remember how blown away I was by her voice on the 2 foot yard album. Listen to anything you can by her. Lots of it is on Tzadik...

Feeling a little half-hearted about today's post. I''l add something when I can think a worthwhile thought.

Shark-In-The-Boat

2006-05-13T03:07:00.000-07:00

I threw up a page of some anti-dub on MySpace. I was planning on posting all the audio I've been working on, then my bootleg version of Acid went all kaflooey and it seems impossible to connect to any decent torrents here in the CR. Enjoy what you get, and I'll post more when I can.

It was awhile ago that LuWorm broke the news. He was hesitant about telling me, because he understands how I get. "I think Derek Bailey died... but I'm not sure..." Yeah, he's dead. I stumbled upon a tape of him playing live when I was about 19 or so. I thought he was either absolutely insane or a complete genius. Like Miller says in Black spring; "Only an angel or a saint can have eyes like that..." His choice of tone was rounded and even. He didn't even opt for alternate tunings, but the sounds that he wrenched from those six strings still bring me to a halt. I've never found that first tape that I've long since lost to a hot car. At the end of his set and towards the end of the tape, he started plugging his label, Incus Records. He was noodling on his guitar and absent-mindedly rattling off the address for mail order and what-not as I scribbled down the information on a stained napkin with a half-dry Sharpie. He stopped halfway through the details, and I looked up from my makeshift pad and pen. He repeated the last three chord voicings and paused. I waited. "That reminds me of a jazz song," and chuckled to himself. I grinned and continued writing.

He and Monk taught me to loosen my ears, and, for that, I am indebted. I'm thinking now of a documentary I saw on Monk. The European sponsor friend of his was talking in her socialite fashion of Monk's last days. She said he never mentioned the illness of which he was well aware, but for one time. "We were riding down in the elevator, and he leaned towards me ever-so-slightly, and said "I'm really very sick, you know."" Something about the pentameter of that statement reminds me of his solo piano, lost in the heart of some Duke song.

Then there's Beefheart... I came to him through Zappa. I used to be one of those guys who walked around convinced that you just hadn't heard the right Zappa if you were less than a total fanboy. Honestly, I don't even listen to him that much myself anymore. Read the Amazon reviews of Trout Mask Replica. They are all either 5 or 1 star reviews, and usually for identical reasons.

Don's a hell of a painter, too...

Right now, I'm listening to X-Ray Spax, and wondering why indie bands never take it far enough for me anymore... If you've slept on them, wake up! It's the best rock sax this side of David Bowie and Viva L'American Death Ray music.

Listening to them at full volume makes me remember and agree with something I heard Henry Rollins say about the Sex Pistols; What a bunch of Hairdressers.

It makes me want to start a punk band that is not bogged down with the pretension and self-awareness. Vonnegut relates a Kilgore Trout story in Breakfast of Champions about two microbes discussing the meaning of life while choking on their own shit and making consequent champagne. That is the best way to take in this entity punk; Choking on your own shit and wondering aloud why the fuck you're even bothering... Everyone looks stupid in a labcoat, so shit your pants and dive on in.

I can't go all off on a music post without dropping my central obsession of the last few (Not Waits, that's for another day), Mike Patton. Can't say enough about this guy. My ears are sluts for him.

Be your own flying saucer

2006-05-12T05:22:00.000-07:00

Today is/has been a rearranging day at the chateau d'RTP. I was looking at my bare walls. I have a few personal pictures and 3 Mucha prints from a set of 4.

I'm missing the one on the right, which, I believe, represents the evening time. I start looking for things to liven up the place. I'll start with pictures today, and maybe get more plants tomorrow. Spring is here, and it's time to blow the stink off. I started flipping through the handful of images that I had stuffed into my luggage. It was full of old self portraits and a few framed tidbits. Then, I stumbled across one of my favorite shots of two of my favorite comedians...

Legend has it that whenMichael Jackson met the two of them, he asked if they were brothers. That makes me think of that old conversation-starting question about your dream dinner party. Michael Jackson, Andy Warhol, and Alfred Hitchcock have to be 3 of the top five. KJP was telling me about the Warhol show at the MCA. I've actually seen a Marilyn silkscreen at a gallery here in Prague. I love Warhol, but Mostly because I think his jokes are hilarious. Looking for Warhol shots led me to this image of Beuys, then, it was all coyotes in the city for me.

Do yourself a favor, and read up on Beuys. I don't want to do him the disservice of summarizing here. He first blew my mind whaen I was a nerdo 17 year-old who would ride the South Shore into Chicago and sit all-day in the Abstract Expressionist wing of the Art institute. They had a speacial exhibit of his work, and I kept coming back to one piece. He hated AMerica, and refused to come here on anyone's terms, but his own. He arrived wrapped in felt and was carried to a small room, where he was locked in with a coyote, only to be carried out in the selfsame felt. So much to be said about felt, lard, coyotes, and American City Life. He's my fourth guest for dinner, even if he is a fucking Nazi. Now, in thinking of representations resonant with my own reality, I'm thinking of Acconci.

His work regarding intimacy, depersonalization, and invasions of the two really hit a note. Also, he's a funny fucker. Here is his Name-Calling Chair, which I affectionately refer to as the Asschair.

I got to hang out with Vito for a day when he visited the ART school I was attending. His speech that night was absolutely classic. His writings and use of text is breathtakingly perceptive and witty. He talkied mostly about the various architectural scenarios he was involved in at the time. It just thrilled me to watch him parlay of-so-smoothly with all the blubbering professors that could not stomach his talk of the death of the ART space. He was dead-up Proletariat, as if to shake away the coyotes tugging at his blanket.

I took a break from my new self-help book and started re-reading Voltaire last night. Here is how he looked to me...

Where to now? I could delve further into the vulgar lifeblood of city living, rattling off on the people living in the train station, but the sun is shining. They filmed some scenes from the new James Bond flick here a few months ago.

Supposedly, Praha is doubling for Miami. Palm trees and beaches remind me that KJP is on her way. I can't wait until she's here to sooth my worried mind. She's such a princess to me.

I would go to church more often if this guy was gonna show up, too... You nin-com-fucking-poop!

People should listen to more Jimmy Scott.

Jimmy Scott breaks my heart every time. I first heard him on a Twin Peaks soundtrack.

The woman two tables away is eating her chicken sandwich so noisily that it's making me sick to my stomach. She's talking about upcoming short film festivals in Prague, so I want to hear it, but she punctuates each thought with a messy smack.

How big of a nerd am I because I want all these?

It's been a month, and that's BS

2006-05-11T06:05:00.000-07:00

Well Kiddies, my digicam is on the fritz, so expect slightly more regular updating on this, my original sanctum sanctorum. I can't post long today, as I've got to work. I'm getting excited, because KJP will be here in a few short weeks, and she's staying for good. Nothing makes me happier than that.

What else? Bob Marley died today. He was treated at the same cancer research center as my Mom; Sloan-Kettering. KJP and I went to Jamaica awhile back, and we were saturated with every single possible variation on Three Little Birds that you could imagine. They even dropped it elevator muzak steez... geez louise.

I'll bet this badass was the product of some really hot Bear-on-Bear. I wonder where Timothy Treadwell was for that one.

My favorite Baristo, Tomas, just asked me what the status of Puerto Rico is in relation to the US. He thought it was a territory. I thought it was a commonwealth. It's a territory with commonwealth status. Now you know...

Check out Aster Erebros' blog. It's chock full of his musings that, at first glance and ostensibly, skirt the mundane while avoiding any and all banality.

Stephen Colbert improves upon our wildest dreams...

The day today

2006-04-12T07:38:00.000-07:00

I've been focusing the bulk of my blog time on the RTPrague site. I forgot my camera today, so I'll spit a little chum into the water for the faithful.
I was riding on the tram, watching people. We pulled up to the stop at Lipanska, and a man sitting near me motioned out the window to someone standing at the stop. "Get on the tram" he signalled. I looked out to the stop, and a man with an umbrella signalled back, "No, you get off of the tram." The man on the tram, with two fingers, clearly stated, "Get on the tram if you want to talk to me, because I'm not getting off of the tram." Umbrella man was having none of that. "Get off the tram," also with two fingers. The doors closed, and the man on the tram shrugged. "Alright..." As the tram pulled away towards Husinecka, the umbrella rubbed his fingers together with his thumb. Clearly, "Where's my money, fucker?" The man on the tram just stared at his empty hands. The next stop was mine.
For what do you use your nose? I've been covering lots of lessons for one of the other teachers at Prague Institute this week. It's a little difficult to keep track of where everyone is in their individual curriculae. I had a 2 hour long beginner lesson at the Pesticide Research company on the north side. I threw together a few little exercises. Those in combination with my usual bag of tricks should have easily been enough to pad out 2 hours worth of teaching in addition to their books... excepting that I brought the wrong books. 8 students for 2 hours basically off the top of my dome, and I succeeded with flying colors. One of the students told me that I was the most good teacher. So, I'm feeling cocky. The same student also told me what her nose is used for:feeling air.
I've got to eat before my next lesson, but keep checking back. I cancelled my MySpace account, because I was totally wasting my time with it and neglecting my loyal readers.

Lacks of sleeping

2006-04-06T04:26:00.000-07:00

I keep waiting for something like this to happen to me...

Cannot rest my head. I've cut down on the coffee intake. It hasn't helped. When I do nod off, I think I dream of flying...

You can get lost on YouTube. Best fight scene ever...

Across the street

2006-04-03T05:58:00.000-07:00

I've been spending the bulk of my ever-diminishing time on-line re-connecting with the long-lost on myspace. I remember hearing, as a youth, that, should you lose touch and want to reunite with somebody, you need just go to Times Square and wait. It turns out that myspace is easier.
Not to say that I don't love the Fussy Records Faithful.
Today, My head has been swimming. Top of the list? Orangutans...

I heard a zoologist describe some primary differences between some of the more popular varieties of Apes and Monkeys by illustrating their reactions to the presence of an unexplained screwdriver in their individual enclosures. Chimps will immediately use it for anything and everything but its intended purpose. Gorillas will be afraid of it for a bit, then forget it ever existed. Orangutans will discreetly hide it, then disassemble its cage when noone is looking.
I also recall hearing about one troublesome Orangutan that continually escaped from its enclosure. They would move this ape into a small enclosed area while cleaning its main cage. The holding area had one of those ubiquitous zoo doors that slide up and down. After the Orangutan had escaped a few times, they decided to videotape him in the holding area (He wouldn't ever make a move if anyone was around). The ape would reach over the very top of the door through a narrow vent. Using a piece of cardboard that he had secreted for this purpose, he would tap the key on the opposite side of the door, rotating it, so he could just push it out from his side with a thin twig.
It's been said disparagingly that humans are descended from monkeys. I say its either chimps or gorillas, because I don't detect too much Orangutan stock in my day-to-day.
Plus... Orangutan babies are so fucking cute.

Houdini

2006-03-24T09:36:00.000-08:00

I just started re-reading The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay. I just realized that I picked it up on Houdini's birthday. Harry plays an important role in the book, though he has been dead for 10+ years at the outset of the novel. The book centers on the art of escape, so Houdini is an abvious reference. If you haven't read it, then I recommend you do so.

I remember the Tony Curtis flick having a big effect on me when I was just a pup, growing in the middle of nowhere, Indiana, and reading adventure stories of all stripes. The scene where Houdini is trapped under the ice plagued my dreams for years. I haven't seen the movie since I was about ten, but I remember that claustrophobic panting and Damoclean sense of doom like it's candy in my mouth. I wouldn't be surprised if it returned to haunt me again tonight.

I forgot Janet Liegh was in that! God! I remember having a poster for The Manchurian Candidate on my bedroom wall when I was 15. The exchange between her and Sinatra in the back of a train car while Frank is having a breakdown caused by an inability to light a cigarette is jaw-droppingly good. I even made audio tapes of that scene so I could listen to it.

Eugenie Rose Chaney: Maryland is a beautiful state.
Bennett Marco: This is Delaware.
Eugenie Rose Chaney: I know, I was one of the orginal Chinese workmen who laid the track on this straight.
Eugenie Rose Chaney: But, em... nonetheless, Maryland is a beautiful state.
Eugenie Rose Chaney: So is Ohio for that matter.
Bennett Marco: I guess so, Columbus is a tremendous football town.

I used to make lots of audio tapes of movies with which I was familiar. Sometimes, I feel compelled to meditate through repitition on certain pieces. I remember watching Psycho something like 20 times in a week. People will think that's ridiculous, but I didn't even notice half of the reflections until the 12th time, much less toilets until well after that. Every person in the whole flick is 2 people, excepting the cop, but he doesn't have eyes. I wish I had an audio recording of the scene in Norman's study where he talks about how he "could just... curse her." All the time, he is surrounded by those birds.

Norman Bates: You know what I think? I think that we're all in our private traps, clamped in them, and none of us can ever get out. We scratch and we claw, but only at the air, only at each other, and for all of it, we never budge an inch.
Marion Crane: Sometimes, we deliberately step into those traps.
Norman Bates: I was born into mine. I don't mind it anymore.
Marion Crane: Oh, but you should. You should mind it.
Norman Bates: Oh, I do
[laughs]
Norman Bates: but I say I don't.
Marion Crane: You know - if anyone ever talked to me the way I heard - the way she spoke to you...
Norman Bates: Sometimes - when she talks to me like that - I feel I'd like to go up there - and curse her - and-and-and leave her forever! Or at least defy her! But I know I can't. She's ill.

They're playing Nina Simone. It's a greatest hits album that I used to rock, back in the states. It made me feel really good to hear Mississippi Goddamn. It reminded me so much of the people I know with whom I share an admiration for those great old tunes. I wish I had a copy of Plain Gold Ring by Nick Cave right now.

Sniveling Cur

2006-03-20T01:35:00.000-08:00

I'm going by the ART supply store after I finish my load of Monday classes. I've been out at the pesticide company all morning, and I'm going back this afternoon. I got frustrated because everyone was sleepy. I react one of two ways when I have a class full of students, determined to remain bored: I do fun stuff, or I show them boring. Today, we practiced writing emails, formal letters, and various modes of transportation. If they would have been a little more helpful, then we could have done MadLibs.
God! Time just flew by, and I'm due back at Ecochem on the North side. More later.

I just don't know what to do with myself.

2006-03-18T10:37:00.001-08:00

My lady has split town.... It's killing me.

I don't know what elese to say about that. The visit was great, and I hope for nothing more than her return. I need to take my mind off of it while I sit in my favorite coffeeshop and house espressoes. I've been eating books. This week alone, it has been Alice in Wonderland, Tales of Unease by Arthur Conan Doyle, Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis, Waiting for Godot, and the Oedipus trilogy... I think they call it the Orestiae.
Let's cover Alice for awhile. How can something so heartfelt and whimsical be so deeply rooted in the agony of the Muse? Check this shit out.

Edward Mordrake: “An even more grotesque and tragic case was Edward Mordake, a remarkably handsome young man who was gifted as a musician and a scholar. In addition, he was heir to a peerage. One would think that Edward have everything going for him and so he did--with one exception. On the back of his head he had the head of another face. It was said to be that of a girl. The head was functional, though it could not eat or speak. The eyes moved and followed the motions of anyone in the room. The head could also laugh and cry. Edward became obsessed with his "devil twin," as he called it. He demanded that it be removed even if the operation killed him, but no doctor would undertake the delicate surgery involved. At last, Edward shut himself up in a suite of rooms, refusing to see anyone. He claimed that at night the face would whisper awful things to him in his sleep, "such things as they only speak of in hell." Unable to stand the strain, he killed himself at age twenty-three.”

This outside of the fact that Edward is the first name of one Mr. Hyde. I'm torn about seeing the love that Charles Dodgson had for Alice Liddell as being pure, for lack of a better word. How many pictures of topless underage girls do you have to see before you suspect the photographer? I don't care if he's victorian and a Maths genius. Part of me wants to believe in that thirst for a muse and the relief of the agonizing burden of seperateness required by genius. Part of me worries that I am deifing a pervert, or, at least, feeling sympathetic, or, gross, empathetic. It's a good musical piece, regardless...

What else has been afloat in my brainpan? Not Fucking Much... Let's see what I can dig up for my kiddies... KJP and I went to see a Jan Saudek exhibit in the square. It was alright. His images didn't thrill me, but technically I was blown away. That guy could absolutely rock a gum print, but I still like Tieri's stuff more. SHe's a Photo Buddy from way back.

I don't know... I just can't get it together since KJP left. I hit my head and fall down. I drink too much coffee and smoke too many cigarettes. I eat Hershey's kisses in bed when it's dark. It's a drag. More tomorrow.

KJ has left the building

2006-03-17T07:32:00.000-08:00

KJP is gone, and I feel vivdily wretched. The snow is melting into mud, and the trees are filled with crows. *sigh*

Encaustic Wax & 2 million crowns

2006-03-08T04:11:00.000-08:00

KJP, Cobra Commando...

Sitting at Metropole and drinking double espressoes and listening to Sade, that's the start of my day. I stayed up pretty much all night in order to finish reading A Beautiful Mind. I dug in at 6 in the AM, and polished off the last few hundred pages in time to be at the Coffeeshop shortly after it opened. KJP and I were here yesterday, and she showed me some paintings that her friend, Joyce, did of her. My jaw dropped. They're so good.

On leaving, we told Tomas, our favorite and daily baristo, that we would be back tomorrow. He said that he would look forward.
The bookstore attached to the coffeshop is closed, for some strange reason. That sucks, because I wanted to surprise KJP with a new ART book. We wandered around the city for hours, and went up in the TV Tower. KJ confirmed my belief that it truly is the ugliest structure that comes to mind.

It has a nice view, though.

Bigfun tourist day... We were out for hours, and it makes me so sad to think of her going back to the states...

SOrt of lost steam with this post, and am feeling depressed. Does anyone else feel suspect towards people who do not have voices in their head?

Clifford Skridlow

2006-03-07T03:12:00.000-08:00

Kava a cigarettski (ceskia republika-steez)

KJP, Prague-side.

Waiting for the tram to go to the mall for cool European jeans for my girl.

KJP waiting for the #5 in East Zizkov. (The Z's are supposed to have accents, but I've yet to set up keyboard shortcuts for the Czech letters. It's pronounced Zhizhkov)

Me on the Tram...

KJP rocking the #5 tram in the wee small hours.

My absolute favorite piece of graffiti here. I've taken to scribbling it everywhere.

This is a close second...

The mall, yo.

The last few nights have revealed some doozies... Yesterday, I was in a huge and blank white room (that's been a recurring dreamtheme since I was a pollywog). I walked into a conversation between a boy from high school whose name escapes me and a very pregnant woman. The boy and I would always talk about Godfather trivia. At that time in my life, my knowledge of those movies was staggering. I'm talking about knowing their runtimes down to the second. The pregnant woman turned to me as I approached, and revealed her prosthetic arm. It was one of those off-putting clawhook dealies. She put her flesh hand on my shoulder like an old friend, and I wasn't creeped out. "Were you discussing baby names?" She nodded. I thought to myself, "Sir Jumps-a-lot." She looked at me seriously, and said "Sir Jumps-a-lot?" It blew me away, and I woke up.
I think that has something to do with a woman I passed on the street up in Letna on the north side. She was very pregnant and very blind, cane and the whole deal. She had this huge content smile as she passed from left to right in front of me. An older Czech women was walking towards me, and we were simultaneously taken aback by this woman's sheer intrepidity. The Czech woman said something in Czech to the Blind lady as she crossed the street. I'm sure it was something like, can I help you cross the street? The blind woman paid her no mind. Maybe she was deaf, too...
Last night, it was Dan Aykroyd and I in a series of wacky mis-adventures involving an indestructible Leopard-spotted woodchuck, and something involving finding a parking spot...
Kellie's been here for days, and things are great. Her Czech is coming along famously, and I hope she moves here. We went to an art store the other day, and it made me feel good, as it was the first time she seemed comfortable here. It's very humanizing to feel familiar with things you know in a context that you don't understand.
You know, Elvis was under the impression that he could break apart clouds by staring at them and willing them to disperse. Why can't I think my waiter into bringing me another double espresso? I guess that's why I am the king to nobody... (ohmygod, here he comes. I do rock, after all!)
I just checked out John Hartford's site for the first time since shortly after he died. I guess his son released a tribute album that looks pretty cool. I always like the song, Run Rabbit Run, off of the album they made together, all those years ago. He sounds so much like his dad singing... It's rare that I get upset by the news of someone dying that I didn't know personally. Hartford was one of those that truly bummed me out. He was so outside and inside, and punk because he didn't give a fuck. On Steam Powered Aeroplane, he followed on of the catchiest songs with an annoying few minutes of gruff huffing, "Hey Babe, Ya wanna boogie?" all gutterthroat.

What other passings got to me? Marcello Mastroianni, fersherr.

Definitely Stephane Grappelli

Everyone's favorite son of Krypton, Kal-El, told me that Derek Bailey died. Say it ain't so! That guy did more for my musical taste than most. He is the reason I wanted to move to Portugal. So much to say about that guy. A post for another day when I have more info on his status... bummer.

Regardless of the bad news, it was heartening to hear Kal-El's voice. He's a mountain to me.

strč prst skrz krk

2006-02-27T07:41:00.000-08:00

Kellie will be here in 2 short days!

Sorry for the roughshod hamfist posts of late. It’s like the old joke. Two old ladies are sitting in a nursing home cafeteria. The first complains, “The food here is the worst I have ever eaten.” Yeah,” replies the second,” and the portions are so small.”

Here’s the lowdown, of late. I’ve been in the PRG for almost two months. I’ve got my own place in scenic Žižkov; Fourth Floor, No lift.
Teaching is going well. It’s easy, and I think I’m pretty good at it. Half the time, my students just want to talk, to have me correct things that don’t sound right. Sometimes they want to know how to describe carrots that have been steamed.
Constantly speaking with ESL students has severely affected the meter of my voice for the better. I speak at a tempo that, while not necessarily robotic, is more easily digestible for ears of another mother tongue. I have less of a tendency to ramble, and I always try to avoid saying 5 things, when 1 will do, as was my wont. In all honesty, it can get a little Shatnerian.
M to the W, my mate, Mark and a completely unpimpt auto!

I need to spend a day taking really tourist-y pictures, just to get it out of my system. All of my shots here have been of graffiti and my old flat-mates, and not of, oh say, Castles and cathedrals or hip art nouveau architecture.
I used to go to the Art Institute in Chicago on weekends when I was in High School, and sit for hours, trying to get De Kooning. Sometimes I went with my friend Tom Barry. Sometimes I went alone. I’d take the train, and, most when I was alone, try to adopt a don’t-sit-next-to-me demeanor. Two of my favorite movies at the time were The Killing of a Chinese Bookie and Taxi Driver. You get the picture. Walking from the train to the museum, my condition always worsened. Making a fist around my jacket across the front of my chest, I’d hunch up like James Dean in Rebel without a Cause. I still have a hard time shrugging that off that pose. It’s why all my pictures are taken sneakily or among friends… Plus, it’s a digital camera. The sound of SLR snapping, as it becomes less and less common, just seems to mean business.
Kellie’s coming in a week. I’ve been holding off on going to the big sights until she gets here. On the short list, I want to got to Kutna Hora, Prague Castle, the TV Tower… Hell, I don’t know. The zoo?
As for learning Czech, it’s hard. My students are very friendly, and one class in particular likes to teach me new words. Check this out: strč prst skrz krk. It means “stick your finger through your neck.” It goes a little like shtir-dch purr-sdt skirdtz kirk. I made them say “Three Hundred and Thirty Three Thirsty Lithuanians want drinks.” They think the “th” sound is tough. I laughed and told them I thought it was hard to pronounce “Ř”. “Zis is an easy sound to make” they said. “Just say rdzh.” “This is an easy sound “I corrected, adding “and no, it’s not.”

New Comic in the works

2006-02-21T05:38:00.000-08:00

I'm working on a new comic with my friend, Reed. I should have some scans up in the next week or so, yo. Here's some more pics for the kids...

Kellie's coming next week!

That's a big castle...

PrahaPhoto

2006-02-16T06:06:00.000-08:00

My Mate, Mark Wills..

All of my classmates. From LtoR, Ben, Lindsey, Angel, Philippa, & Wills.

Grafitti everywhere...

Likewise, McDonald's...

Marks, Angeledes & Wills

Welcome Yanks!

Nice and light...

The #17 Tram...

That's the TV Tower, where I live... By it, not in it...

Freestyle tags are generally weak, but I've seen some great one level stencil work...

Sorry for the slapdash post, but this connection is soooooo slow

Vomited lotii, upon which monks are to meditate

2006-01-29T06:47:00.000-08:00

Hi kids, Sorry no posts for the last few. I'm trying to finish up my certification and find a flat. I don't care much about my place, but I don't want to buy a bed. Hopefully, I can pay month-to-month, and utilities are included, but, hey, I've always been a choosey Beggar. Love to all, and Prague Spring is on its way.

The beauty of the encounter of a sewing machine and an umbrella on a dissecting table

2006-01-23T08:41:00.000-08:00

My dreams have been full and ripe lately. Maybe it's because I sleep on a small and uncomfortable bed in a noisy Czech flat, far from anything I know, but, then again, I've heard the R-E-S-P-E-C-T by Aretha 3 days in a row, and in three different places. I ducked into a Cinska Restaurace to get out from under the thumb of this Soviet cold front that's been hitting the CR the last few days, and, in it, was the biggest fish I've ever seen in a tank, with the tank being only marginally bigger than the fish, itself. Maybe it's been too much for the kid, these last few weeks, but I could swear that the fish was turning a queer eye at me, as he bent in two to face the other direction, all without ever being more than a half-handful of inches from the far end of its world. A hoary czech in a tight green apron came out from the kitchen to see who had opened his door, allowing it to slam a little. I held up a finger, and he shrugged, motionioning internationally, to sit wherever the fuck I wanted. I sat by the fish and lit a cigarette to feel a little warmer. The fish seemed to be a little surprised that anyone was in the place, too. I unfolded the paper napkin that formed an adroit little teepee at my place seeting and allowed it to rest, prone. I smoked, and looked at the fish. Then, I smoked, and tried not to look at the fish. It's just that it was such a big fucking fish. The man never reappeared from the kitchen, and, after I stubbed out my smoke, I split. I felt like I should have stolen a bottle of something, just to feel famous. Instead, I ran through the cold, and, upon arriving, stripped off my layers of winter clothes, and settled for feeling like a waitress on vacation.
Like Rimbaud muttered, "It is necessary to be absolutely modern." On the obverse, I'd put my money on Lautremont in a streetfight.

Eye stair threw pains

2006-01-22T05:31:00.000-08:00

I'm still having such a problem figuring out my new mobile phone. It seems that I only way I can successfully recharge, is to go to the place I bought it. They close so early, and aren't open on Sunday. KJP is probably flipping out. I'm stressed, and don't even want to worry about it now.
I've got a big test on Monday, and I have to plan a lesson for the advanced class, as well. They all speak better English than half of the teachers in my program. I completely flopped the last time that I had to teach them, so I want this lesson to be good. I'll figure out something.
My roommate Wills and I went out on a seriouis piss seconds after class eneded on Friday. At the end of a long night, a cab driver tried to charge us 3 times what he he should have. We told him to go fuck himself, and gave him 200 crowns, which is more than he desrved. The Czechs will try to fuck you. Count your change. Take the Metro instead of a cab, if you can. Walk, if you need to, but watch out for dogshit.
I've been a slut for Milan Kundera novels since I landed here. They're soooo good. I'm staying in for the night, to plan my lesson and revise for my test. I feel like such a nerd, but I just want to get this certificate, and start actually living here.
Oh yeah, as far as roulette is concerned, if you are chasing a number, do not quit until you catch it. I was down to my last few crowns, and finally, 8 told the kid it loved him veryvery much. Now I know why 8 in Czech is Awesome.

I saw a bunch of Hasids staring at this the other day, while a jazz band played the girl from ipanema in the freezing cold. It's been stuck in my head since then.

Olive Oil Turtle Turds

2006-01-17T23:44:00.000-08:00

I ordered a cold plate at a dive Italian restaurant off the Nove Mesto yesterday. I was stabbing hunks of Edam and Ham and Camembert and stinky cheese, and shoveling them in my face. As I went through the selection, one cheese brought me to a halt as I squeezed it in my mouth. Talking before swallowing, which I avoid at all costs, I told my roommates that I had a very important statement to make. They watched as I chewed thoughtfully, and added hunks of breadrolls into the churning mash between my teeth. As they waited, the anticipation grew. At last, I swallowed, and took a second along with a big sip of Coca-Cola a Vino (Cheap red wine and Coke, Not Bad). They had to stay themselves from blurting, "Spit it out!", now that I had nothing actual to spit out. I said, in all seriousness, pointing weakly to the three remaining hunks of cheese, of which I had eaten the fourth in one big bold bite. "That," affirming eye contact to relay my seriousness,"is butter..."

hihihihihihi

2006-01-15T05:43:00.000-08:00

Fuck! I just erased a lengthy post trying to use the Czech Keyboard. I don't know how to use the accented letters that are on the number keys. I'll figure it out. I'm a clever girl.
I'm picking up a little Czech. It's funny. I used to make fun of the expressions that Borat used on the Ali G. show, and now I actually use those words all the time. Jagshamesh is how ya doin'. Dyekwee is thanks. Those are spelled phonetically, cuz the pronunciation is a trip. I live with 3 british folks, and they're great. We're becoming fast friends.
This town has some amaaaaazingly beautiful old architecture, which is usually covered with grafitti. Look down when you walk around, because the sidewalks are plastered with dogshit. Oh yeah! When they give you change at a store, they will not hand it to you. That's just how they do it here. You can expect to pay to use a public toilet and a shopping cart. They're usually about 50 cents. The baskets in the markets only have one handle, and you have to buy your bags at the grocery store. That took me a trip or two to firgure out.
Expect some pictures here soon, because I just got my laptop up and running. Peace & Love, Truth & Soul. The bitch is back.
I've got my own tag, too. I've been writing "Sting is Dead!" in all the bar bathrooms, because I think it's funny...
More soon.

byebyebyebyebyebyebyebye

2005-12-30T11:59:00.000-08:00

Well, I wanted to post a set of links, so you can look for the stuff I used to find for you. Alas, everything is piling up at the last minute, and I'm practically out the door. Maybe I can find an enthusiatic sould to take this over, while I concentrate on the RTPrague Blague, but I don't have high hopes.
For your one stop internerd shopping, look to Hemaworstje. He's a bit of a perv, but one with undeniable taste, plus he updates many times daily.
For music, The runout groove has a great set of links. Listen to Fluxblog, Ready Rock Moe Rex, and 20 Jazz Funk Greats (Must love a site named for Throbbing Gristle Albums.)
God, sorry for ending this on kind of a ehh note, but here's a quote from John Cage to set you sailing.
"If you develop an ear for sounds that are musical it is like developing an ego. You begin to refuse sounds that are not musical and that way cut yourself off from a good deal of experience."
Follow LuWorm, he knows the way.
To Barndance, Agru, Illy Na, MC Styloh, Mz. Lily, the Divine Ms. Yo, Luworm, and any other F.O.RTP that waste their time paying attentio to how I waste my time, I love y'all to little bits. Keep your chins up, and don't let the basterds get you down.
Once and Truly, RTPout.....

Re:John Lennon's Primal SCREAM Therapy Sessions Bootleg

2005-12-23T09:41:00.000-08:00

I was thinking about the beatles today. I generally avoid talking about them. I'm not what you'd call a fan. Nothing against them, they're just not my bag. Agrufulis just entered the sinister phase 2 of SQUIRM Laboratories... I never noticed labor in that word, which is strange, because I'm always subdividing words into 2s and 3s, based on what I've heard. Anywho, He was talking about assembling a choral singalong, which I thought would be fun to do Queen ad infinitum overdub-style with his new mastering software . The random musing about Agru and I having a hippy hootenanny with ourselves collided with a half-remembered daydream about having all of my friends doing a covers album for me to take to Europe... THE Europe. What song would be so much fun with which to have a singalong?
For the longest time in my musical development, I was really held up with a reactionary dissent to POP. A whole-hearted immersion in classact Jazz, like MonkMingusMiles, went along with them on into the 70s (will someone turn the tamboura down, please?). To get it out and prove to myself that I knew where it was at, I tore my earswithyears of Derek Bailey, Anthony Braxton, Albert Ayler, Coltrane Quartet with Pharoah, Sun Ra, Cecil Taylor (Long after Buell Niedlinger and the AMAZINGly forward stuff from the 50s. Do yourself a favor.) coming out on stage replete with his new age wizened dreadlok sunglasses inside at night I'm just gonna scream at my piano Improvisational Dance Naughtynaughtykitty who's-a whatzitbizness... From the right angle with the right lighting, I can still dig lots of that stuff, but then I really started digging on Tom Waits, and so much of his stuff is broadway. The strings on his first albums are sappysometimes. That doesn't mean that I don't sing along and go all weak in the knees like a 13 year old girl at a... well, Beatles concert.
I think Maybe I'm Amazed by Wings would be fun to sing. Fuck the Beatles.

I'll drop a few more

2005-12-23T08:32:00.000-08:00

After the first of the year, go HERE and press CTRL + D...

I'm walking through walls.

2005-12-23T05:55:00.000-08:00

Get out of my way. It's Awful early, and I'm feelin' Surly. Jesus! When did I start channeling Waylon Jennings? Here's the Situation. My parents went away for a week's vacation... Sorry, but I have to (OCD) do that when anyone says here's the situation, which I actually only typed. I'm at work. I disconnected the connection at my house. I won't have access here for much longer, either. I'll do what I can to drop another post or two before I split Czechside.
I've been worn thin by this region's propensity for circumstantial misplacement. These dark Amish woods have bad juju. It's more obvious the closer I get to getting. A thousand teeny claws are a-popping from this gravesite, in an attempted Lilliput on my Brobdingnagian Ass. I woke up to a voice mail from the #5 this morning. I can't think of anything that has made me feel better in the last year. He called to tell me 12:22. It's a little thing, but it lit a fire. By the time I got to work, I was talking Trooper's ears off. I was strong. I was once and fully ready to rock.
I feel like Adam Sandler in Punch Drunk Love when he faces off with the Mattress Man. "I have such Strength."
I'm about to give away all of my stuff, like in Brother Sun, Sister Moon. Beyond the book and music objects, my wheat has additional chaff. I've been dining with Lord Humphrey for tootoo long to feel this fat. What I'm trying to say I've learned is that I interpret far too many Lessons as being Messages.
Put that in your mouth and chew it. I've got to work.

Give up the ghost

2005-12-17T06:19:00.000-08:00

Sorry for the lack of posts. Everything is getting hectic, what with me moving a loooong way away in 2 weeks. I hate to say that this is the next to last post I am going to do on this page. I'll keep my faithful readers updated... both of them.

I did this post before I mentioned quitting

2005-12-07T13:42:00.000-08:00

It's a lame unfinished post that I didn't want to finish or throw away. As far as the New Bornean, I was going to metion how I thought its tail was its head, at first, and was blown away by how much it looked like a baby Brontosaurus, just like that movie with William Katt from Greatest American Hero. OK. Maybe I do want to finish it, but I'm at work, and I have a diatribe to spit.

I finally found my The Legendary Marvin Pontiac CD. I forgot how much I absolutely adore this CD. If I could record an album, I would want it to sound like The Legendary Marvin Pontiac Vs. Hymie's Basement. Read up on the legend of Marvin. If I could figure out how to post MP3s, I would. I'm no good with computers. I'm just thin and pale.

I haven't been up for much posting lately. I think I'm going to take my camera to work tomorrow. My grind shows me terrible things. At least I have human ingenuity to thank for making me smile. After Katrina hit New Orleans, CNN posted a list of survivors on-line. Check out the first name on the list. That guy rocks. I've long thought that one of the best parts of being a Big-Time lottery winner is the opportunity for a national press conference. Most people just say goshthanks and manI'mlucky, and they still get press for smiling behind a big check. I'm not recommending throwing out a hail satan and a Sieg Hi! hand salute on national TV, but I would have to put a little thought into those few minutes on that microphone. "Hi! I just won 300+ million bucks, and I'd like to say a few words..." EF Hutton would turn an ear to that.
I could be subtle about it, and just use my riches to fund an endless string of shitty jobs for a decade or two. Just get a job, and work it until somebody steps on you. You know some Burger King manager outside of Dubuque absolutely who relishes his little toehold of power. Fucker wears a tie to work. Doing the businessman thing is what he tells his old high school classmates when they pick up their orders at window two. Leaning though that little window and wearing a paper hat, no place to go but up like a rocket for him. Get a job working for that Assjack, and wait for the day where you are certain he thinks the shit he's giving you is original and sweet, then show him the newspaper article about how the guy who won 300+ in the lottery is going to buy a plot of land and a Steam Shovel and dig and redig big holes in his yard for the rest of his days.

Watch a Horse just beat that thing up.

While I'm getting animalistic, They found a new one in Borneo. "New animal found in Borneo", with this picture...

Dense Post

2005-12-05T15:03:00.000-08:00

I've got lots of stuff worth ogling. That's what I've been doing, instead of posting about it. Enough of my yakkin'... I'll Just start at the bottom of the list...
Complete German Pubescent Vocal Change...

French Exploitation Film Site... I don't speak French. If you do, then help me find this movie, Black Kissinger, they talk about here.

Velocity Design. I need one of their TV Covers.

Viner Biz.

Exploitation Film Promo Songs? Howzabout Naked German Men with their Cars...

Amazing Pictures... Just keep clicking.

Great little cache of ART images. He even had this....

CuteCreepiez...

Look at someone else's records...

I first saw Mark Ryden's work on the cover for some 7" that I only bought for the title, Band-Aid covers the Bullethole", and the cool cover. His paintings are great, but I could do Cute Creepy Painting posts, as the day is long.

Well, I might as well just go ahead and get downright Oblique....

I've got dozens more obscuro artso fartso, but I gotta eat.

Stab Me With An Icicle, 'Cuz It Won't Leave Prints

2005-12-05T14:58:00.000-08:00

I'm selling a bunch of my stuff on eBay. I've got several New Jazz CDs up, but everything else will be forthcoming. Expect tons of ART Books, about 2,000 CDs, and about 5,000+ LPs to be going on-line shortly.
Sorry for selling to the Friends-Of-RTP, but this shit is cheap, so spread the word, and help fund my flight from Justice....

The milk is spilt

2005-12-03T05:54:00.000-08:00

Throughout my life, my dreams, the potent ones, repeat themselves. As a young boy, I would float slow-motion in a blank white room. Sometimes, I would see three symbols on one wall of the room. I have long since forgotten what those symbols are, but I know that they are scrawled into the side of my 8th grade desk. In my teens, it was superheroism. In my twenties, always self-mutilation. I have dreamt of cold for the last three days.
I've made mention of my curious fascination with Victorian Arctic Explorers. I remember being brought to a halt by a story of 4 men walking across ice towards the South Pole and slowly going insane. The lead man wrote in his journals of perceiving a 5th man. He would count and recount the members of his group, and always end on 5. This went on for days, before he could bring himself to mention it to his second-in-command, as he feared accusations of insanity, if not insanity, itself. His Lieutenant was simply relieved that someone else saw him, too. At night and in the tents, they were 4. Out on the ice shelf, him. While this could easily be interpreted or dismissed as exhausted paranoia, or Jesus leaving his footprints in the sand, I still wonder.
My dreams of the last three nights have been of freezing. It's me and one other. We are wrapped in thin swaddling and the wind is ripping into us and driving us closer. It's not a sex dream, but it is as if we are pulling ourselves into one another. I can only concentrate on this others heartbeating in my ears. No Jungle Drums. It's the sound of an iceberg ripping itself in half. My head is swirling with nothing but a base need to get closer and keep warm. I have the sensation of being fried in oil, but I can't let go, and that is how the dream ends, with, with us, dying of cold and need and hoping for some little flickering spark to push our blood one inch farther from and closer back towards our near-still hearts.
Either that dream, or the one where Jay Leno has the body of a stripper... (tonight show video 10/4)

Marina Abramovic...

Anoushka Fisz...

Liwei...

Abdel Halim Hafez...

Problms

2005-12-01T16:47:00.000-08:00

Here's some more fashion show shots. Working with a digital camera really makes me long for Chemical smells and very dark rooms.

OK, I'm sort of at a loss for what to post, mostly because I've been working incessantly. I can't hardly get motivated to keep preparing to move to Prague, much less feel the need squeeze out an enthusiastic post about the biggest unsolved ART crimes or cool PORN... OK, the porn is kinda cool.

I like to poke through the potpourri sections of sites. These MP3s were dug out of the cracks in Napster's nether regions. You remember Napster? From back in the day? This kid rocks Jad Fair hard. I wonder who he is. If you're only going to listen to 1, then I recommend "How do you stinking feel?" I smell a SQUIRM cover... either that, or something from Ginsberg's Cosmopolitan Greetings.
On the other hand, I paraphrase Muddy Waters, in saying that this dude wants to rock in the worst way, and that's exactly how he does it.

How to cleanse the palate after that punishing round of "Rock Obviouses", that one dude totall had some hot licks, though, yo... I say go to China, Video Game Samples (Lots and Loud), Shrinking Quarters, Lightning in Glass (you can spin it!), Gertrude Stein? Listen to Funk Mix Sessions, the pitter-patter of American casualties. Stare at the sun... I don't know.

Free Grave

2005-11-30T12:49:00.000-08:00

I got a call in my early twenties. I had already found myself in a deep funk and staring at the walls. The woman on the line was pleasant. She offered me my grave. Deal was, I go and let them tell me about funeral planning, and I get a grave spot. Curiosity piqued, I asked for more details. Totall no obligation, I sit through a lecture, I get a grave, numbered and everything. I could go to it. I would have property that would outlast me. I told her that I wasn't emotionally ready for that. I let her know I was bummed out to begin with, and it wasn't her fault, but I couldn't really say thanks. My luck, I'll end up a plastic cross and a couple of teddy bears because I just had to have that Wierd Al tape behind the passenger seat at the worst time possible. Speaking of Plastic Crosses, I bet someone has already put that Footprints poem one one of these...

While I'm feeling so cheery, This is the ceiling to a church not far from where I'm going to live. Were Jesus alive today, I think he'd be like, Fuck Yeah, and shit...

Check this lady freaking about the Dark-sided. I can relate...

If Mia Farrow on a Clorox binge is the mellow sort of vibe you're looking for, listen to this sly little bedroom DJ leaving the Mic on.

Man, I've got to shake it off. Chinese Guy Bites Head Off Snake... crnch. Chinese Guys Sing Backstreet Boys... wowobabywowo. Nothing's seeming to work. Maybe I need a Big-Assed Cup of Coffee. That, or Bill Bonds cameo from Planet of the Apes, if not Planet of the Apes, itself.

the vicissitudes of the scopic and the phanic drive

2005-11-28T11:57:00.000-08:00

Probably not the best time for a PORN post, but I've found a few tidbits that shouldn't be left to the wayside. I've always had an affinity for the cheesecake aesthetic. Hell, I've got a cheesecake category in my LP collection... That's not saying much, because I also have a section for Radio Comedy.
I always got so much shit for pictures that I took of women during my brief internment in ART school. "Why did I crop her head out of the frame?" Actually, they'd say that I'd cut the models head off. It was usually because it made for a better picture with a nicer line. It eventually led me to do similar work, excepting that I always made sure to give the models a baseball bat, or a chain. The Freudian implications of my little empowerment? gag didn't quite sink in until I just wrote that now, and this was years ago. I can't believe I missed that. I guess if a machete works for Jason from the friday 13th films, then I guess it suffices to make my emasculatingly little pun just a little bit funnier... to me, at least.
Don't get me wrong, it's just to accurately portray a complete spectrum of emotional content, one has to sully one nails with the unsavory. "How many of the women in this critique have ever made a blanket, dare I say sexist, statement, like ALL MEN SUCK!? Before you answer, keep in mind that I have four sisters, so I already know the answer."
I'm not getting any further into it than that right now. Here are some naked pictures of Madonna taken by one of my absolute faves, Mr. Lee Friedlander. Nude... I meant to write nude, not naked. That would be different.

If you're interested in intergender politics, like me, then check this essay out. In addition to thoughtful exigeses, it's got pictures of boobies.

Enough with the PORN. I stumbled across Tim Lane's Site. He's a cool painter, whom I had the pleasure of making an accquaintance at a busted ART opening a few weeks ago. He also hosts lots of Travis Pickard images. TP is KJP's brother. The image below is Tim's.

Lil Pink Devil, not Big Pink Devil, which looks, I imagine, something not unlike this...

Badass Nature Photos by Elsdale...

Well, let's top off a half-hearted porno post with something once and truly Phallicious... Train Vs. Semi

RecoDeco

2005-11-27T06:02:00.000-08:00

Here's some long overdue fashion show shots.

Porn

2005-11-17T12:27:00.000-08:00

It's like Ben Gazzara said in The Killing of a Chinese Bookie. "They're Beautiful Girls! What's the matter with tits?" Let's start old-school... yo.

New Models...

Alison Lapper... What can I tell you? When you stop and listen, sometimes you sit at the feet of mountains.

I got a little sentimental acoustic coffeehouse mix for a second. Who wants to make a quilt and look at erotic pictures that are over a hundred years old and cooler than anything in HeavyMetal Magazine for the last 10 years?

While we're on the classy Polish tip... I probably could have worded that better. Cool site. For the Japanese Premiere of Sin CIty, they actually opened a Sin City Strip Club to promote the movie. Check it. While you're in Japan, Japi Honoo.

To give you some idea of my maturity and class, blue balls.

What now? Angie Bowie Videos?

Short Post, before I go buy Fatlip!

2005-11-16T14:13:00.000-08:00

I can't believe they finally dropped Fatlip's Album! Go download these now! Buy the album! Self-deprecating Nerd Rap? SiSi! How many MCs have use for a Thelonius Monk Pun?

I'm not leaving the house for a long time. Virtual Vintage Drum Machines? I say best video game ever!

Bad Album Covers...

Barbecutie

2005-11-14T10:50:00.002-08:00

Rough weekend. A surly geriatric tried to scrap with me at an ART opening. Actual qute:"You wanna go? I'll go right here!" I just grinned red faced, and tipped my glass towards him with a nod. KJP hooked her arm into the crook of mine and whisked me away. If you have to be taken out of a situation, it's best to do with a pretty girl on your arm...

I'm just going to clean out my temporary bookmarks folder in the order I find them, as I want to take a nap.

Russian Pictures for all types.

People using Scratch & Sniff technology for evil.

Brian Eno is selling lots of Gear. I'm looking in your direction, Yo.)

Cheesecake.

It's sad to think about a generation that feels nothing when they look at this page.

Banterist sell his leather pants. Gets press.
Porn Posters... what!?

Bunuel Posters.
Pictures of drugs. Time to change the desktop wallpaper, Brah!

Tell me you couldn't see her eating your children.

Bad Hair Cuts on MySpace, with comparisons to Marvel Comics Characters. Comic book Nerd, or not, it's funny.

Every flight in America within a 24 hour period condensed to 60 seconds. That reminded me of a song by Die Toten Hosen that I would rock in High School. I gave away to some Dumb kid. "Jede Minute ist ein ganses Jahr/ Jede Secunde... Ein Monat!"

If you're already sick of the Russian/drug-themed desktop you put up a minute ago, Surrealism is Norman Rockwell in Earmuffs fishing Blue Lobsters for Tomato Cans in the Summer, and grinning...

Kimono My House

2005-11-12T10:32:00.000-08:00

I can't let myself get long in the tooth. I'm going to a big ART opening tonight, and I'm worried people might want to come to my house afterwards.
I've got to drop this little tale before I forget. Just the other night, I was sitting at a bar in Michigan City. This big black guy next to me keeps talking about how he lived with Michael Jackson, has known Stevie Wonder his whole life, and works for 50 Cent. I assume that anyone talking at a bar is lying. Sometimes when people ask me what I do, I tell them I'm a butler. Eventually, I realize he's wearing a $30,000 watch. He starts showing me pictures on his phone. Sure enough, it's him and Stevie Wonder, him and Michael Jackson, Him and Janet Jackson, Him and Snoop. I'm starting to believe him. He keeps mentioning his father, the minister. It comes out that he's Louis Farrakhan's son. He shows me his license. It says Farrakhan. Next thing you know, we're calling Stevie Wonder's voicemail. To recap, I was sitting in Michigan City with Louis Farrakhan's son calling Stevie Wonder's voice mail in the middle of the night...
He's the guy on the left.

For Mz. Yo, who happens to be out on love herself...

Pictures from China... (Don't click on the the cat picture... Trust me.)

Supercute pudgey black boy with a Southern accent describes a fight he saw in a movie ... If you don't at least grin, then you have no soul.
Supercute tiny Chinese girl without a chinese accents sings a song on Chinese Idol... If don't at least grin, then you have no soul.
If you have no soul, then maybe this is in your wheelhouse...

MP3 site I like... While you're at it.

Walt Disney ruined my life

2005-11-06T09:49:00.000-08:00

People always talk about the dangers of exposing children to violent and sexual imagery in their media. Granted, I don't feel comfortable swimming because I saw Jaws when I was 5 or so. That was the same year that I saw Halloween. My folks were fine with death, but they'd cover my ears if someone said Bowels. At the rate children are acclimating themselves to the visceral fake realities of media culture, show them Psycho in the womb. The real dangers are the seemingly innocuous but, by extension, more formative swill we shovel into their little bowls. Bad guys lose. Good guys win, and again by extension, win possession of the girl. It's all going to work out, and true love exists. I hate to sound like a lemon, but true love exists when two people are mutually dissatisfied and they bear with it. If it's not about fucking or obsession or possession, then it won't last. Walt Disney ruined my life...

On a lighter childhood note, I found a picture of one of the villians from the new Spider-Man flick. I'm stoked, because the Sandman is classic Spidey Foe, yo.

Cyndi Lauper has a new album dropping on Tuesday. The last one was mostly Jazzy Ballads. It even featured a duet with Tony Friggin' Bennett. Sam Cooke never understood why paople went so apeshit for someone that sang offkey. Oh Well. It's like I always say about cooking. When you're dealing with an impossible ingredient, deepfry it.

Russian Paint by Numbers Porn.

Hamburger Panty

2005-11-05T09:20:00.000-08:00

I've been at work since 4:30. I got home at noon. Between the intense labor, lack of sleep, and factory air, I feel drunken. Bear with me. I, myself am gonna ride the train. It will be nice to have a hangover that consists of feeling rested and renewed. People will comment "you don't look like shit.Well, not total shit." Flatterers...
As a recap, I'm home, awake, and thoroughly befuddled. I've been listening to the excellent Chinese Rock post on WFMU. Go download songs by NO. I like very much.
I'm going, I hope, to Blington this weekend. I commissioned a portrait of KJP, and I need to pick it up from Amor Loco. When I go, I think I'm going to rent a hotel room. That way, I won't have to sleep on a couch+I'll have Hi-Wi-Fi. I'm going swimmingin the pool, too. I'm going to swoop up anything of mine left in that place. I'll give my friends a squeeze and a solid wish, and that's it for Blington, for me. I'll eschew the flowing Pagan Sun God robes in that swimming hole, but I will come up for air and be new.
Swimming...

I could have worse hobbies...

Our favorite son of Krypton, Kal-el, and I were discussing instrument names as names for children {Don't worry. I'm not pregnant}. We got about as far a Gamelan and Banjo.Howzabout Sosso Balaphone?

mOndO

2005-11-04T14:09:00.000-08:00

I found a clip from Mondo Magic today. Out of the whole Mondo canon, this title is hard to find, particularly because it's nothing something for which one looks. I stumbled into possession of a bad VHS dub of it years ago. I was living in the second floor of a house. The exterior of which was wrapped in a unconvincing faux brick coating, bright-red. My living room was bisected at a 45 degree angle. While it sucked to have half of my already small space rendered intimidating, my television was small. It looked bigger as you walked it across the room. That's where I watched the contents of a blank titled in thick permanent letters.
Essentially, keeping in spirit of the other Mondo flicks, it's footage of people doing what people would left to their own devices where habits can have habitats, back in the woods & deep in the jungle. Not to belabor the particulars, but one sequence always resonated as being redolent with an appreciable sensibility. In a nutshell, a remote Amazonian village has one central policy. You fuck up; Stick to the dome. For example, in cases of infidelity, the cuckold gets one good shot at his little Lothario with a big stick. After that, easy by easy and fair is fair.
I find it comforting that, in this pristine, balanced and primal{primitive? Be a hippy, and perceive a deep fullfilling beneficent EarthmotherHowWeShouldAllBe kind-of-a-feel here} society set in the throbbing jungle heart of the planet, most of the fellas have a good couple of scars on their head.
I guess it's like Darwin said," A difference in Complexity does not imply a difference in Nature." Word.

Does anyone speak Francais around here? I think I found Mummyporn. It might be art, but I kind of hope it's porn.

If I'm going to have a little flavor parade for the eyeballs, let's unload some lil' old things.
Meat

One Huge Eye...

Visual Cognition. Look at Dr. Angry & Mr. Smiles, then lean back and squint....

Quirky MP3 Blog. I think it's Russian.

Fake Pet Fish...

Chinese Rock...

Jesus wants your Socks. I hear George Michael might be interested, as well.

Russians...

How long until you can run a train on the darlings of the white supremacy movement?

The resultant hum of thrill becoming normal

2005-11-02T16:16:00.000-08:00

Labies and Gentals, I give you Shigeo Fukuda. Trust me, and spend some time looking here. I think it's positively gorgonic.

Amazing, but true; I wasn't ever really that into Star Wars. I do, however, like watching Yoda rap and breakdance...

I'm not sure when the political climate shifted from voting for, as opposed to against, candidates. This dreary climate does little to dampen my enthusiasm for politics. It's my sports. It does, however, lead me to be a little disaffected as far as action is concerned. I vote... and I'm going to flip a Hummer the Bird tomorrow. They make those fucking things in my town. Get mad. Make a statement.

I have to work again this weekend. That means no trip to Blington for another week. That sucks, as I miss Ms. Yo and Amor Loco desperately. I'm going to have well over 110 hours on this paycheck. That means sushi dinner. I'm going to rent a hotel room, so I can go swimming, too.

SQUIRMy Japanese Theremin. {Gratuitous Sex & Violins}... You find funny things when you are trying to find a justification for an awful pun and a silly picture. Hip-Hip Hotty? Check, Maxim Steez... Origami? Hai! Double GUITAR! Dirty Jew Talk? Kevin Federline (Britney's Babydaddy) Rapping? Is anyone still with me?

Sun Ra on SNL, yo.

From where do German babies come?

I collect vintage pictures of couples. Some people collect pictures of women with dogs.

If asked to encapsulate America, I might just point here... Speaking of which, a cowbot was in my warehouse today. Tall and lean like Hank WIlliams, he was. He had the hat and boots and everything. He came in with a group of salesmen and my Dad. Pops and I, as always, smoked simultaneous cigarettes as a greeting. The cowboy whipped out a pack of Reds, and partook, as well. "Where's y'all's rehstroohm eht?" I said "down the end of that aisle, door on the left." "Thank yeh kahndly," as he swaggered towards the john. That was fucking perfect, I said to myself, grinning as one who's seen too many movies.

This site was in one of my very first posts. I stumbled across it again today, and I smiled again. P.S. What is Swedish for "frottage club"?

Hail Satan.

20 JFGs has Bonny Prince Billy & Tortoise covering DEVO...

octopus tears in a squid's eyes

2005-10-26T14:16:00.000-07:00

I'm going to live here... It makes me feel like a real cool cat. Maybe I should buy a beret. This move is happening just in time. My job has been uberhellish. We called the new owners today, and asked if they could send a person over to lend a hand, because my coworkers haven't been showing, and, when they do, they always HAVE to leave early.
"Why are you leaving when we have so much left to do, yet?"
"I've got kids."
I shit you not.
We called the new bosses, and explained the increasingly dire situation. They said "Suck it up."
Again, shit not. Being spoken to in such a manner by one who's grown makes me want to overreact.
Suck it up? I hope you're talking about you and my nuts, you dick. How many more masculine metaphors can I cram into this rant... cram.
No wonder that I go home and stuff my head with fractal cabbage and see stars.

Speaking of dreams, watch one about my small love.

Wow, check this out...

The cool thing about getting certified to teach ESL, is that I can do it anywhere in the world. I want to spend a year in Brazil, I think. I hear that they pay you very well to teach in the Middle East.

Bo Diddley... 'nuff said. Hell, let's do some music videos. Crispin Glover?

Yeah Yeah Yeahs? Karen O is completely capable of having a crush had upon.

Vincent Gallo's Paris Hilton Panty Rotisserie? Yes, please.

Avalanche!

I can't overestimate the importance of the role that one Syd Barrett played in to formation of my musical taste and obsessions.

Did you know that you've always known a Sun Ra Tune?

I think I'll wrap up this spiel with the Tom Waits song that we all sang along to in High School.

Long weekend off

2005-10-24T16:18:00.000-07:00

I've got an apartment in Prague... I can't believe I just wrote that, for real. It costs about 435 dollars a month. It's in downtown Prague. It's got Cable TV and Wireless Hi-Speed Internet.

I'm going to be living in Europe...

The Europe.

wow.

Everyone's going to be so different. I mean, I know that everyone is dumb all over and ugly on the side, because we're made in God's image. People do it all the time. It only seems like a big deal, because I'm not this guy.

Let's talk about Alice in Wonderland for a minute. It's obvious that Lewis Carroll loved Alice Liddell with all his heart. He wrote the book as a gift to her... longhand with illustrations. Now, In this age of molestations and inescapable suspicion, his penchant for photographing young girls seems creepy. At the same time, they are really beautiful pictures.
When Alice turned 11, the Liddell family banished Alice from his company. What happened? Again, Creepy. Did he molest her, or, as I sometimes truly believe, did this Genius Reverend ask her hand in marriage with only the chastest of devoted intentions? As fucked as this situation is, it's heartbreaking when viewed as a cautionary parable about innocence in this face of a truly powerful muse. Read up on it at Keeslau {My Hero, Yo}, and then listen to the album by Waits. I think it's my favorite album by him, and that's saying lots.

Did you hear the news about Edward?⁽²⁾
On the back of his head he had another face
Was it a woman's face or a young girl?
They said to remove it would kill him
So poor Edward was doomed

The face could laugh and cry
It was his devil twin
And at night she spoke to him
Things heard only in hell
But they were impossible to separate
Chained together for life

Finally the bell tolled his doom
He took a suite of rooms
And hung himself and her from the balcony irons
Some still believe he was freed from her
But I knew her too well
I say she drove him to suicide
And took poor Edward to hell

Cool art shows, anywhere in the world...

Japanese artists are cool.

Then again, sometimes Japanese stuff seems wierd, in general. I mean, what's this?

Beats me. This is cool. Anyone need an image for a rockshow flyer?

I don't think KRS-10 reads this shit anymore, but here's a Pingwin pic, anyhow...

It's called "The Unbearable Sadness of Being". How does one make a Jesus joke that ties into Lizards? Turn your sound OFF, and watch cool KungFu. They lay Kung-Fu Fighting over the whole montage.I hate that fucking song. It's like Flo & Eddie said, " Regardless of race, color and creed, We can all agree on one thing. That song sucks!"

I love the show Arrested Development. Gob is a magicion whos totally hams it up, and it's always hilarious when he does his magic show stuff. I thought he was over the top. Nono... Stallion is over the top, and serious as cancer, to boot.

Well, I just went on a race rant the other day, then I decide to look into what is called racialist music. I call it, "I fuck my relatives, and I know a G chord" music. This shit is fukt! Look at this!

These girls are SERIOUS... It makes me rethink my feelings on the Olsen Twins first album...

I'm going to start goldplating saltines and handing out Cracker Awards. Just another day in the Sideshow... (that's totally Gary Busey on the left)

New Mozart and other aural goods...

I'm not racist. I have white friends.

2005-10-21T13:02:00.000-07:00

My laptop went all wonky on me yesterday. The keyboard just wasn't feeling participatory. It turns out to be a good thing. What would have been a sleepdeprived, caffiene-hypercharged, fit of situational outrage, is now a cliff's notes anecdote. I stayed up too late on Thursday. I flew into work on 3 or so hours of sleep. I do it all the time, as I don't sleep so well. I have to unload a semi-truck full of 40 gallon water heaters. Every single person I work with refers to them as hot water heaters. Part of my place in life and its peculiar difficulties is embodied by my refusal to point out that they ar, in fact, cold water heaters. I just know that the recipient of this little observation would stare at me as if I were doing card tricks for a dog, or, say, a 40 gallon hot water heater. 204 of the bastards were staring me in the face on Friday morn. It's OK. I'm a scrawny tart, but I've been doing this kind of ork, off and on, for a dozen years. So, like so many times before, it was me and a random truck driver busting our asses, lumping out a trailer full of HWHs. Alternatingly, these herculean unloads reek of Jamais or Deja Vu. In all honesty, it can be split along a racial line. I don't mean to seem blunt, but that's how it is. Black drivers talk about current events, crazy road stories, funny jokes, movies, music, (I can't do sports, or else we'd all go to that place, too), any old thing that comes to mind. Those trucks are full of talking and laughing across the board. Now, I don't want to come across as being racist, but I've made charts. The white guys usually suck. They always ramble grumpily about how stupid all the other fuckers are where they come from and everywhere else. I bite my tongue, amongst the Hot Water Heaters, to not add, "Everybody but you... Everybody but you... You and me, of course! We're both a couple of Einsteins unloading Fucking cold water heaters at the asscrack of dawn. We've obviously made all of the right choices in life, and, by extension, everybody should bow down to our natural and predetermined glory, and accept our decrees on Taste & Justice." Instead, I usually just go to the John, and put my head in my hands.
The little Kyphote on Friday took all of the cakes. {I said Cliff's notes, but this, I apologize, is getting rantish} Let's see if I can narrow this down to a bullet list. "I'm not prejudiced. I think everyone should own one." "I don't give a fuck what thay say. I'm gonna call it the Winston Cup." "I don't understand why Mexicans don't just kill them selves. I mean, how could they live that way?" It was a steady flow of this shit the entire time.
See, in these parts, People think it's acceptable to make racist comments, as long as one of them isn't around. Them being Reggie or Shannon, the black guys I work with. I've made it clear that I'll cause a scene if she starts saying stupid shit, like, "Jigaboo, Pickaninny, and, of course, what shall heretofore be referred to as, The N-Bomb." The Salesman that works for us is a total flamer, so he's cool. The only other person is my Dad. If I ever said anything racist around my Dad, he'd slap the shit out of me. I remember him telling me, as a kid, that if you couldn't step up onto the little curb-high mental obstacle of being able to deal with people on an individual basis, then you are stupid. That leaves me and Reg, and Shannon. R&S, being card-carrying members of the Jigaboo Pickaninny N-Bomb Community, don't often make racist comments. If they do, it's usually about their Cousin. Based on what I've heard about this cousin, He's had his nuts knocked up into his chin by Reggie more than once. Back to the Nascracker & the water heaters.
Exchanges with drivers are finite by their nature. If they say something stupid, they'll be gone forever, soon. I've only had to directly shut one of them up one time. Some fucking open collar grecian fuck start dropping N-Bomb jokes on ME AND REGGIE. How fucking stupid are you? Reggie was working on or looking for something behind me when Aristotle drops the N-Bomb in preparation for, what I imagined he believed toe be, a really great joke. "How do you know when a Nigger Truck Driver (ed. Reggie is a truck driver)..." "Shut the fuck up." What's that?" he looked at me sheepishly. "TIME TO LEAVE!"
So, me & the Kyphote... He starts with the racist shit right away. He did so under the aegis of me having to send Reggie across town to get some more skids. I unloaded 51 skids with 4 water heaters apiece. I needed to keep this guy happy, so we could just get this shit done. I tried to have fun with it, but I was sleepy. The best I came up with was, "Yeah, it's easy to look at it as a group, but if you really think about it and pay attention, there are so many reasons to hate someone on an individual level.."
I've run out of steam with this story. My favorite moment?
"I'm moving to Europe in January."
"What for?"
The only Mexican Driver we had was Carlos. He ended his stay later that night in jail after being arrested while being chased down the street by a sledgehammer wielding Reggie in the midst of, what I am sure was, a tequila, coke, and shitty reefer fueled fishfry.

Sorry for bitching. SQUIRM needs this boat... Hell, i think it would be cool to have an aquarium player. I'm still feeling all worked up. I'll post a few hours worth of fun here, here, here, here, and here. I'm going for coffee. Go here, too.

God, and the Birdbrain

2005-10-19T12:36:00.000-07:00

Where to start? This one's burning a hole in my to-be-posted-upon folder. Purportedly, this is the first appearance of that break. When you hear it, I'm sure you'll know it. Here's a movie about the whole affair. If you're bored and looking for breaks that have already been dug, then scope the Goodka.

Motivational Graffiti...

I found this site, while looking for more Gurdjieff tiddlebitties... He makes the argument that God is not an asshole. I think Jesus is a Yetisyn.

I'll get back to birds, but poke around Iceland for tunes. Does anyone know wherer I can find some Mugison MP3s? Watch Feist's video, too...

um...

I've been studying up on Erich Jarvis. I don't want to disrespect him by doing a blurb of a reference, but I like what he has to say about Birdbrains...

I've posted on Ron English before now. He's doing a show with Daniel Johnston & Mark Mothersbaugh. I have a total nerdboner....

Witkin's showing in Chicago. I'm going to check it out. I hear he rubs his prints with Beeswax...

I was always an enthusiastic reader of adventure stories as a kid. It was Kon-Tiki that got me hooked. I remember how absolutely fascinated I was by the pictures of them pulling sharks out of the water, so they could swim. Shit blew my mind.... I stumbled across this great compendium while I was digging up info on Roald Amundsen for our favorite Son of Krypton, Kal-El.

These guys are cooler than any of us....

Mike Patton's eBay Profile

2005-10-17T17:19:00.000-07:00

Mike Patton is selling his old G4 for way too much, but he did write "Thanks for letting me fuck you Dad" on the side....

I'm moving to Prague

2005-10-17T14:17:00.000-07:00

Taht's right, Kids. I'm out in January. You can get Breast Implants that are MP3 Players. I do have a blank spot on my desk. It would be like a stress ball...

I've never been into sports, but, as today's post is attesting, I'm all-tit... No need to beat me up about it.

If you don't know Halber Mensch, then school yourself, so we can all be Geniale Dilettanten.

Blixa Bargeld gives guys like me hope. Pale and scrawny can be a good look. Shit, I hear Buscemi is a sex symbol in some circles... "I told you not to leave me alone with Buscemi! I just couldn't help myself."

Who is Ben Porter?

I just wet my pants a little. This page is for my 3 blind Mice, Mz. Yo, Agru, and our favorite Son of Krypton, Kal-El. I'll see you all in a few days... The motherlode of music for three ears +Burroughs Dial-A-Poems this side of Archive.

I was getting all psyched-out and intimidated about moving to Europe, then I saw this. I can almost hear his little snailvoice in his little snailhead... " How do I feel? How do I feel? I feel like a mean Motherfucker, Sarge!!!

The Supreme Martian Overlord has a Blog.

Who doesn't love a showoff assjock on a prosthetic crotchrocket?

I saw that, and said, in my best Studio City accent,"Well, Guh-day!" It made me laugh... Se, it looks like that Kangaroo has a big ol' Wangaroo... Nothing? Not even for "Wangaroo"? I see how it is... Turn on some spacy house music, wear some tweed, and just watch this page. I'm serious about the techno.

Sorry about that. Now, cleanse your palate with the antibacterial power of cartoon viking rock... and Abaci. Would that be Abacii?

Aggro Rufulis

2005-10-16T08:07:00.000-07:00

The post of Agrufulis I threw up yesterday was of him doing "Telephone call to Constantinople" with a long-extinct local poptrio called Ali Baba's Tahini. I actually survived the course of their entire existence without accurately saying that name aloud. It eventually would come out like nananapoopoo. {Momentary aside:David Baker says that he's been around the world, and kids, when teasing in an off-kilter sing-song melodic playground context, do so primarily in the key of F}

The bass player quit. (He's the one who's not responsible for Agru's antics.) He'd gone down Carolina way to see the Bass Player's new Band. The old Bass Player in A.B.Poopoo was briefly replaced by our own favorite son of Krypton, Kal-El.

Which, hear tell, was a drag, overall. The guitar player from A.B.pblhttt went on to join Umphreys McGee. If you don't know them, then you probably don't wear conch jewelry, either. He took alot of A.B.shashashaaa songs and went on to have a moderate degree of success on the college(highschool) circuit.{Unnecessary Fingersnapping video} Agru says that they're still playing songs from the dead band, and, in all honesty, those songs were the only ones to get the crowd moving outside of a cover of Van Halen's Hot for Teacher. {Unnecessary Hll & Oates reenactment}He thinks they're still riding the coattails of a defunct podunk band. I don't know enough to judge. I do like their t-shirts.

I told A.G.R.U. that I posted that MP3. He's all, "Oh that's awful!" I posted Yo's pic, and she's all, "oh not so photogenic." Hate to break it kiddies, but yer both fucking adorable.

I stumbled across some cool Digital Art. Be sure to watch the demo reel.

These look like great Digi stuff, but they're actually Microscopic.

Fiona Apple on Letterman...

Haha

2005-10-15T16:03:00.000-07:00

Listen to Agrufulis overrock a popcombos attempt at T. Waits.

Classic...

Peeping Tom

2005-10-15T14:52:00.000-07:00

I think Peeping Tom by Michael Powell is tied with Hitchcock Psycho and Hooper's The Texas Chainsaw Massacre as some of my favorite movies to watch in the fall.

I don't even want to tell you about it. I was just thinking about my lost copy and how cool of a movie it is.

It was written by Leo Marks. He was a codemaker during WWII, and developed a method of sending coded transmissions on pieces of silk. He also used to craft these great little poems that were actually coded messages for the French Resistance. My favorite one is this...

The life that I have is all that I have
And the life that I have is yours.
The love that I have of the life that I have
Is yours and yours and yours.

A sleep I shall have
A rest I shall have,
Yet death will be but a pause,
For the peace of my years in the long green grass
Will be yours and yours and yours.

I always thought that'd be a great song. That poem was delivered by a woman named
Violet Szabo.

I think she looks like Ingrid Bergman. I was getting all nostalgic, and went looking for a copy of Sukiyaki by Kyu Sakamoto. I perused bunch o' odd LPs, in spite of my Vinyl Buying Freeze. I found a page with 30 0r so versions. I just love that song. If a little innocent fingrsnapping isn't your thing, then grab some chunks of the Conet Project cookie, and mash it up in your mouth witha Derek Bailey interview. You could try to find some Guirdjeff, just to be a little cooler than the person across the bus from you. You could download Van Morrison's Contractual Obligation album with Love songs about Ringworm. I actually like some of the tunes. You could make post-ironic staments while spinning a mix of advertising 7 inches. Or... you could just fucking listen to Sukiyaki...

Im not sure what this guy is saying. I thought it was a white power site for a minute, but now I think it's pro-gorilla, but I can't be sure... It's worth it for the pictures.

Holy fucking shit! This guy runs up a fucking mountain!

Pardon my language.

Would you hear me if I said "Fuck You"?

2005-10-14T12:09:00.000-07:00

The guys I work with are kind of dicks. Normally, I don't care. Sometimes, they totally ignore me. Usually, they generally ignore me. I say "I downloaded this weird Michael Jackson song that features LL Cool J." They don't even look at me. They even ignore direct questions... I want to drop to my knees and shout "Please don't leave my life!" grrr
It's more than getting snubbed. They have an unshakable institutional feel, as if they're yardhard and ready to shiv yours truly... Scary monsters!

Agrufulis has been getting into this LP I loaned him awhilago, Five O'Clock Bells by Lenny Breau. Solo guitar albums generally come off as all Windham Hilly, but this guy is amazing. Do yourself a favor and dig yourself some. I found a few MP3s here, HeRe, InfoHERE, BioHERE. I really wish I could have found the song Five O'Clock Bells. It's a great song and Lenny even sings on it. As he says, he's not much of a singer, so think of it as "...an instrumental, with Lyrics."
I read a story about how a producer came to his house, and he was playing 3 Blind Mice & Mary Had a Little Lamb simultaneously, in 3/4 & 4/4 respectively. When asked why he obviously devoted so much time figuring out how to play this, he replied "Because I'm the only one who can do it." It came off as endearingly nerdy in the article.

Here's where I find my new tunes every day. I've started making CDs that I arrange chronologically, and, by extension with apologies to Hornby, biographically.

It puts the lotion on its skin! Just watch it. You've got to love an Indie Llovvessonngg that contains the line, "I'll use your skull for a bowl." Isn't that right, Precious? Just put the lotion in the fucking basket!

I love some classy Cheesecake pinups. Scroll down for some old-skool Playmates.

I was drinking with a Taiwanese man once. A friend of ours made a joke about eating dogs. Kyri represented. "I can't help it if some of my brothers eat dog!" I said, "Mexicans eat Dogs?"

Terrorists have the best band names...

I love these paintings.

Have you ever wondered who's the coolest girl in all the world? It's Elaina. Glowing fairies live in her nose...

I don't know what this video is all about. I know it's about Pi, but... I'll just say that it's worth watching just to hear an MC boast that he "knows this Pi shit backwards and forwards."

Bathroom Grafitti... Lots of it.

Oh Yeah! I found something I lost... My Vibrator!

s#!t

2005-10-12T16:20:00.000-07:00

I just lost an extensive post because of some computronic fart. Unfortunately, I cleaned out my folders as I was doing it. Big long post... reckon it musta been about this big. (Comedian then holds out only one of his hands, as if sizing up an imaginary fish. Waits for laughter.) Oh well! Only real loss was this funny ad for a "Vibrator" from the 50's. It showed this Americature of this dude giving himself, what can only be described as being, a Neck Job. Watch some uncensored Full House Outtakes. Watch Mitch Hedberg be funny. Watch cute Japanese bunnypeople reenact D-Day from th Amrican POV. Speaking of WWII, check out this historical Plastic Surgery Page. I don't know what this is. I think it's some sort of commercial... See, He's a ONE-Armed Fisherman. I'm so pissed I lost an awesome post. Let's see what I can remember... I found this old poster,

Which is, obviously, the source of the Misfits Skull Icon,

Whic reminded me of this tidbit of Bloomington lore involving Glenn Danzig, in town at the time, and Danzig, standing right fucking behind said guy at that exact moment, and, in turn, beating shit out of said guy. No known video exists of that exchange. I do, however, have video of Danzig talking shit, and, as a matter of fairness, getting knocked the fuck out, himself.

All of the aggression in the air... It's enough to make cute little Bjork beat the shit out of someone. "Welcome to Bangkok!"

I've been spun out on the new Fiona Apple for days. I just picked up the Dual Disk version with live videos. I know I'm a slut. I'm buying the Vinyl, too. The footage of her at Largo with Nickel Creek is really great. Goddamn! Chris Thile is a badass Mandolinian!

Check out the video for Not About Love at her site. Big bearded Zach just lipsynchs while reading from a sheet of notebook paper. Funny. It blows her previous Lolita stuff out of the water. I feel like the video for criminal led lots of people to just dismiss her. Take Heed. If you make a video in your underwear, play football, or something. It's funnier, and it's funner.

I can't remember anything else from, what shall heretofore be referred to as being, the lost post. Pimp Juice? Crunk Sauce? Try the bottled fury of the Seagal!

If you need a fresh reggae mix, go here.

Music videos can be cool. Who knew?

The extragavance of the Hair Metal era of LA is often demonstrated by the No Brown M&Ms clause in Van Halen's Rider. The number 5 explained to me that this was actually canny prudence on their part. Their shows at the time were so complex and sprawling that one mistake at a venue could potentially bring the whole circus to a cataclysmic halt. The included the candy clause at the very end of the rider, simply to ensure that they've read the whole thing. It's hard to pay attention to all of the details when you're doing blow and getting blown. Listen to Eddie gargle wine for breakfast and talk about his mom dying on some morning radio show.

I can't think of a Make-Hitler-Squeal-like-a-Piggy joke...

Watch This.

Beware of the Blog. This place is big fun. It has been a loong time since I've had a pint of Genius.

While I'm filling my pants with music videos here, allow me to drop the Unicorns L.A. You must admit that "lalala/Unicorns L.A./lalala/Unicorns L.A./heyheyhey..." is a line in a song.

Some part of me actually likes it. I think it's my ass. Don't do Drugs.

What else can I say other than people on acid eating hot dogs, ferreals.

On a lighter note, Young boomboxes in love.