I used to be strictly a metalhead. All about pounding drums and searing guitars. I remember when Saladbar in 10th grade gushed about the cure and I mocked her for it (admittedly we’d disliked each other since, uh, 6th grade or so). Or when Eden first played Kraftwerk for me and I was practically physically ill and demanded he remove that sound from the fucking air. I think I did the same thing with My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult, although we were on our way to the Kitchen Club (back in Teh Day) with Nelly and this was during my deepest darkest depression and anxiety attacks, when I’d quit smoking and my friendship with ‘mo ended. I’d quit smoking a while by then, but was still getting horrible anxiety attacks and acid reflux. This was when prilosec was still prescription before they made a low-dose OTC and I was taking that and it was just Not Helping Very Much. Anyway, my point is, MLWTKK came on the radio (how I’ll never fucking know, a pirate station, I imagine, cos who the fuck would play that on broadcast radio is beyond me. Kudos if it was, their shit must fucking spark together when they walk down the street.) and it was just grating, annoying nonsense. I couldn’t even recognize it as music. I don’t know if that makes any sense. It’s like when you’re looking at a picture or something and you can’t see what it is of, but you can see that it has a shape, it’s just…you can’t make the connection. It took Bert and Lis playing Orbital’s “The Box” for me in the car, smoked up and on the way to Subrageous or Taco Bell or something. God, has it really been 10 years? The creaking door sound when it turns dark ambient is still fucking awesome.
So here’s to music I’ve hated but now insist that is fucking JAWSOME
I was on a date, a long time ago, with this woman. Well spoken, articulate, beautiful, a bit awkward in that way people are on dates. We went to Versailles, this cuban restaurant — it was late and it was the only place open that wasn’t fast food bullshit and she wasn’t familiar with real cuban food, so why not? — and we order and eat, and I finished before she did so I ordered coffee while she finished. The waiter came to take my plates away and mistakenly reached for hers and she snapped at him. I should have known then it was fucked, and in retrospect I can pinpoint that as the moment I Should Have Known Better. Not so much because she treated the waiter poorly, although I suppose that’s a signifier as well, but the look on her face was…I don’t know, rage. Almost a comtemptous snarl.
I don’t know why this came to mind recently; a je ne sais quoi of regret? My subconscious reminding me that I am a bad judge of people that I’m fond of? Time will tell.
edit 5/5/09; commenting disabled on this post because of spam.
It’s the return of the giant link-list email newsletter thing, now consolidated into a blog post for yourmy convenience. Would anyone be interested in an occasional mix-CD?
One day it’ll be a choice. I don’t like it. I mean, the flexibility is nice to have — especially for something traumatic that you just want to get rid of; war, rape etc etc. But part of your job in existence is to be witness and to work through your pain and evolve yourself. And I can see this being used nefariously — and not just in a paranoid Phillip K. Dick dystopian future kind of way, either.
I had (or have? I dunno. We’re still “friends” on facebook) a friend who called me up. Let us call her Agnes. She had broken up with the love of her life because shit happened and anyway, time heals wounds etc etc and several years and a marriage later she gets an email from him out of the blue “i fucked up, you were great, if you’re still angry I don’t blame you but i just wanted to tell you i know you were great” etc. Long story short, they got back together (and are still,) and as far as I know are deliriously happy together. Which is all well and good — forgiveness is a nice thing, after all, and happiness is a bitch to find, so you gotta work for it. Except about two months into their newfound love she calls me out of the blue saying “hey how do you permanently delete files from a Mac?”. I tell her and hang up and then go “Wait. She doesn’t have a Mac.” But I know my friend, and on a hunch (I’m usually really good at these) I call back and tell her off for deleting his pictures of his ex from his computer. Quite frankly, I feel a bit used and dirty and I am Seriously Unhappy about this, so perhaps I am less than nice. She gets mad, tells me he’s backing up the pictures later (…but she’s deleting them now…? just distraction BS…) and anyway I don’t know the situation. I tell her that it’s hardly fair for her to decide what memories he gets to keep, because they’re his memories, after all. She gets mad and repeats that I do not know the circumstances, and I say she’s right, mea culpa, if I’m wrong, please forgive me. She says nevermind and it’s ok, don’t worry about it and since then we haven’t spoken. Which leads me to believe that I was right. But enough about that.
So now think of someone demanding this of you, literally of your memories. Or doing it against your will. Note that one of the reasons given for not freeing some of the Guantanamo Bay prisoners is not “they’re dangerous terrorists and we can’t let them go” but rather “they’re totally innocent but they know too much about our information extraction (viz, torture) methods to be let go”.
Here, have some sonic yoof “Nevermind (what was it anyway)”:
I just stumbled on a site about Set Theory Primer as it relates to music theory. Which reminds me of my favorite story about music I wrote that no one ever heard.
Bunny called me up, “hey there’s a gallery opening, we’re doing a music/performance/installation — the theme of the gallery is Summerian/Babylonian art, they’re showing some pieces etc etc”
I dig Sumer, cradle of civilization etc etc and I’ve read through Snow Crash so I know just a bit more than nothing about their language construction (atonal glosolalia? or some shit. doesn’t matter, i’m not writing poetry). So I look up Summerian music. Turns out it uses a 60-tone scale. Because I am S-M-R-T smart, I figure OK, I can make music akin to atonal 12-tone theory pieces, but I have to use 1/2 and 1/4 microtones (ie, bends and half-bends) and viola, 12-tone automagically becomes 60-tone. So I write this long droning piece in an open D tuning and because it would be a bitch to be bending whole chords (although you get some really awesome dissonances, some sonic youth/glenn branca shit going on where the notes beat against each other in the air) I go and get me a slide. So it’s like this blues hawaiian indian drone monster thing. It’s made of pure, concentrated awesome.
And then the day of the show, come to find out they go on an hour before they said they would and also that the music has been relegated to the alley behind the gallery. Which is OK, since that’s where the party people’s at anyway. Ran into solo and other people from the wayback.
in which Sterling provides an apt summary: “I consider it my personal Vietnam. If I had gone in and struck hard and fast and all in one go, none of that shit would have gone down. But because I didn’t, because I took it slow, I sabotaged myself. And I think it was because [removed].” “…So you consider it all your fault?” “Yes.” “And none of it would have happened and [removed] would still be friends with [removed].” “That’s what I’m saying.” “Wow, that’s a lot of guilt.”
in which Laura considers the possibility that there may be a better way to handle situations Laura: so, he is right. we do need more time. though i think he went about it totally wrong. but, i do realize he doesnt have the emotional capability/tact that i hhave (erm, maybe i dont always hav tact) David: like when you laughed at [laura's ex-boyfriend]‘s naked erection? Laura: yes David: some people might say that was …. less than fully tactful
in which Little Trouble Girl summarizes her complex love life: “So I’m going to see my husband in the hospital, but I stopped by to have lunch with my boyfriend — that I’m not having sex with because he’s married — to tell him about how I didn’t get laid last night with my coworker/crush because he couldn’t get it hard despite a long blowjob and to complain about how my fuckbuddy just left for [unnamed country] which is good because we might be developing feelings for each other. Which would be bad.”
in which i make an ass of myself at a party: “dude i was in college when you were still sucking your momma’s dick!” “you know my mom’s dead, right?”
Today, I talked to a friend, didn’t get to finish my soup, got to listen to schlocky rock (or jazz? I don’t know, bruce hornsby is very jazz-lite, but then again he’s done rock too), went to miami beach despite boat show traffic, avoided getting scammed, walked on the beach and got new shoes wet in the surf, saw a wedding i was not a party to, made excellent falafel (hint: before you roll them into balls/patties, drop chopped cilantro/dill and a wee bit of hot sauce into the dough/mix. also, if you fry at medium-low heat they take longer but dry out less,) and had a heavier-than-i-would-have-liked mediterranean dinner (falafel, tzaziki, stuffed grape leaves, flatbread, kaseri cheese). finish the day off by noticing that i never filled out my valentine’s card i bought the mrs so spent 15 minutes on something that will make her smile in the morning.
Listened to a lot of Sufjan Stevens today — picked up The Avalanche on a whim at a used CD store (yeah, I still buy CDs, I’m all quaint) and was blown away. Bought Illinoise just for Casimir Pulaski Day but am enjoying other songs on there. The Avalanche CD is more enjoyable at the moment though; the three versions of Chicago, the supercomputer song, it’s all jawsome!great. I even went and learned me some guiterchords for ‘em.
I just heard, in quick succession: Dylan trying to teach The Band “Po’ Lazarus” (it occured to me that po’ lazarus might be where part of the Stagolee mtyh gets it’s power), the harry smith field recording of prisoners singing “po lazarus”, dylan’s “goin’ to acapulco” dylan’s “boots of spanish leather” (random cover from youtube: here…I have no idea who that is. actually, ignore that, here’s pix of dylan while the original plays: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZTCFhS7IIgM)
I’m not – by any means – a huge dylan fanatic, but it occurs that the scorsese quote re: akira kurosawa about one being able to debate which works are Great and which are merely very very very good, would also apply to dylan’s songs.
I’m joining the RPM Challenge with Navel4Eve, here’s hoping it doesn’t suck. More info next month, wish me luck.
Yesterday, Vero called me up asking how I made my curry sauce (“uh, curry powder and sour cream. a little mayo if you want it tastier but that makes it fattier and greasier.”) and it reminded me that I have posted the recipe for my (world-famous) grilled cheese sammich before, but never here, so here it is:
get you: 3 cheeses — 2 slices of something white (say a meunster or swiss), 2 slices something yellow (cheddar or american) and about 3 spoonful’s worth of feta (bleu works too). bread — sliced, i recommend rye. 1 tomato slice, 1/2″ thick (can be replaced by onion) butter 1 clove garlic 2 spoon’s worth of olive oil optional: bacon, olives, mushrooms.
butter a slice of bread, drop half a spoonful of butter in a pan with 1 spoonful of olive oil, coat the bottom of the pan and then put the bread in it. medium-low heat — you’re gonna be here a while. put the meunster on the bread. get your tomato slice and poke out the slimy shit in it (seeds pulp etc) so that you have a tomato-spoke. lay on the muenster cheese and fill the empty tomato spokes with the feta. put the slices of cheddar on top of that. lay the other slice of bread on top and butter it. to ensure the cooking side doesn’t stick, shake the pan and the weight of the sandwich should shift it. while you wait for it to brown, take your garlic and slice it thin like you’ve been watchin’ goodfellas too much. flip yr sammich and press some of the garlic slices into the bread. while the raw side cooks, wait. sing a song or something. when it’s done, flip (so the garlic on top caramelizes a bit) and press the garlic slices that are left into the bread. drizzle half a teaspoon of olive oil on top and flip again, drizzle the oil that remains and serve. wait at least a minute before cutting it or you’re gonna get cheese soup. Which is hard to eat inside a sandwich.
you can replace (or augment) the feta with olives (or olive tapenade,) mushrooms and/or bacon.
If you made it right, it’s about an inch and a half thick, and a fucking hearty brick to keep your gut happy.
you want the tomato slice to be thick — about 1/2″ or so — so that the tomato itself doesn’t get hot. the cheese next to the bread will melt the feta, but if the tomato’s thick, it won’t cook very much and you will therefore have an island of cool, refreshing vegetable in a sea of molten deliciousness.
I don’t know. This at home, in the heart, complex and annoying. Feeling …not broken, but pathetic, bathetic. Sterling’s preggers, Sun’s home, Avery is huge, my mother thinks I hate her or I’m a jerk, I don’t really know anymore. hot sub w/ sun earlier. she’s way cool and outta all the girls probably the one I am most comfortable with. I love taitai and meimei and sterling, but sun’s a good mix of them all. i think in jan i will go with mills to get my tattoo. she’s gotta decide what she wants though…I’m getting a new tele tomorrow, I hope. I am giving the SG to Mei-mei to fuck with, the pickguard to either sun or tai-tai. new guitars are funfunfun, always leads you somewhere else, like a new girl or a new car or a new way home.
I have a dog now, he is cute and small and I am responsible for him. I hope to get a cat sooner rather than later; a jellicle for preference (gonna name her “Sally Pimienta”).
talked to eden like 4 or 5 times in the last week; things are rough on his end vis-a-vis V. which sucks, he’s had it rough sometimes. he was very sincere and sorry about getting out of touch with us all, said thanks for me trying to keep in touch with him since he didn’t know how to start things. he’s spoken to solo and bunny and will probably maybe this time come to miami. I dunno. Told me Mo’s living in O-town and they don’t really hang or speak. eden talks to mike now and again tho..
while moving I found some boxes with pictures. i feel distant from them, they don’t really touch me anymore…I don’t know how to feel about that.
good books: world war Z, that dylan bio I’m xmas’ing away, the last postsecret book mills gave me for xmas good music: night ripper by girl talk — all samples…shit, it’s like “paul’s boutique” all over again; coil’s “the ape of naples” which i re-listened to because bunny hooked me up with coil bootlegs and i ran into an interview with sleazy from last year about all the shit since balance died…oh and the new fucking daft punk album is so fucking hot it glows
vignette: eden’s gf at the time lived on sunset, i go with him to hang, her gay friend says hello — i am broken and falldown ebcause of mo. i leave the party and go to his old pad with ron — rose was there even then — and tell him our friendship’s over. he tells rose that if it’s her fault…blahblahblah. i tell him it’s his fault, it’s about b but more about how he didn’t tell me. i leave and go back to the party. the girlfriend’s gay friend tells me my aura has changed color dramatically — from orange/red to green (or other way? I don’t remember the colors he said). I tell eden and tell him what happened.
vacation: sucked, I worked on the house and w/ the fam (jesus they are tireless)
work: I am a hero and an unsung rockstar of unprecedented caliber. we had a server — the one and only web server, the one that has hard drives that grriiiiiiiinnnnnddddd when they spin up and has therefore not been turned off for 5 years and then because of a power failure, and not been updated for about 10 years — have it’s PSU blow up and catch fire. despite this, I was able to get us working (hobbled, but hey) for the few days it took to get the machine repaired.
i bought a jawesome! map in a magnelephant frame at my dad’s neighbors’ moving out garage sale. my ex-landlord is in foreclosure and I picked up 3 GTA games for 30 bux.
this morning i dreamt that had gone to sleep late (i had) and got woken up by my cell and it was she calling to say there were things unsaid. i never got to hear them because the alarm went off.
