long day

tonight there should be a lot of people excited to get down and dirty with ideas, scissors, glue, paper, and a trip to the photocopier.

this might make me happy.

i'm hungover and tired. that might be why i'm sad. i guess jake braaten reads this, hi jake.

i listened to living on the edge, then came across this song.

i'm not quite a blubbering mess right now. i just feel overwhelmed, exhausted, and as though i lack focus or control.

here's this video. it's sad.

fun with links!

aaa bbb ccc

so, it turns out i think i like this song...

"Low" by Flo Rida is infectious. Like a disease. Less debilitating? Depends on who you ask. Even my lil' bro and his bad taste (he and I both affectionately called what he listened to through high-school, "C-rap") asked me what the hell I was doing listening to this song.

I listen to it 3 times in a sitting. I can't get it out of my head. Obsession? I woke up this morning and clicked the video, still in queue, on youtube. I understand its flaws...Flo's flows aren't even endearingly stupid (see Biz Markie) - they're just bad (see MC Hammer). Even T-Pain, the reason anyone cares, is off a bit: does the female protagonist have a costume change half-way through the chorus? First we see her in Apple Bottom jeans - ten seconds later she's wearing sweatpants. These are minor problems, though.

The biggest challenge I thought I was facing when I first tuned into this song was: how did this song make it?!?!

Maybe I should back up.

I was just minding my own business as I put "yahoo" into the address bar for some late night email checking. There's a front page before you click "mail." Sometimes, I read the stories. This time there was a story about the top selling singles of all time in the United States. The article starts talking about Elton John, and why he can't be on the list - though he has the number one selling single with his 1997 remake of his own "Candle In the Wind." Here's the list, just read it as though it starts at #2.

1. A Little Less Conversation - Elvis Presley

2. Here Without You - 3 Doors Down

3. Another One Bites The Dust - Queen

4. Apologize - Timbaland

5. (Everything I Do) I Do It For You - Bryan Adams

6. Hey Jude - The Beatles*

7. Hound Dog/Don't Be Cruel - Elvis Presley

8. I Will Always Love You - Whitney Houston

9. Let's Get It On - Marvin Gaye

10. Low - Flo Rida

11. Macarena - Los del Rio

12. Ridin' - Chamillionaire

13. We Are The World - USA For Africa**

14. Whoomp There It Is - Tag Team

You can check the whole article here but that's pretty much the whole of it. I'd never heard of this Flo Rida character. What an ingenious name, right? Ha! So, I looked it up. And the first thing I thought was the first and last thing I thought the last time (3? 4? some years ago) I heard durrrrrty south-styled club bangers, "This is shit." And by that I mean, "I get it, it's like the other shitty shit - what makes it better?"

So, why did this song dominate so handily all of these stand-by classics by making the list in such a short time? It's not in the number one slot, but how long did it take "Hey Jude" to make it to where it's at? This song's been around for 4 months or something. Why is it sharing breathing room with Elvis Presley?

I have no idea. I can only guess that a lot of songs aren't issued as 'singles' anymore. I can guess that the cutting room saved the pieces in a guarded manner a la Fort Knox - thereby deterring the customary illegal downloading that plagues the industry and encouraging downloads via Itunes. What I can't do is give a real factual reason. I can just keep guessing.

My biggest guess is that it's catchy as hell. I've done my research lately (watched a ton of T-Pain videos) and it's catchier than most of those (and most of those are oozing with auto-tuned treachery). It's just a dance hit. And I just love it.

i have bad diarrhea

maths rule our lives

follow this link and you'll find that "The Greatest Shortcoming of the Human Race is our Inability to Understand the Exponential Function."

as in, population growth and resource depletion. really good video. does anyone read this blog? probably not.

just click here.

i'm thinking about starting a math club.

i love math.

must not sleep, must warn others

Artist: Aesop Rock
Album: Float
Song: Commencement at the Obedience Academy
Typed by: yamomsucks@aol.com

Verse One:

The harvest appeared less plentiful than last season
I imagine sloppy seed handling avoke the stroke of tardy planting
And the crops we'd have harnessed in mid November
It only brushed the blossom bracket then soon sacrificed
Lives to icicle jackets when the frosted
I sunk to find the walk beneath the mosses
Where the planted tunnel pass after the rains have run their courses
But alas the portraits of these frosted corpses tortured in the grass
Off of distorts or pour the one tall glass and nauseous
And I'm asking you, why's this spy supply hiding in strangers
When they know atop the food chains I could spot biters for acres
Now be gracious, these minstools turn a bully's psycho civil
By dissolving the candy coated image down to the pixels
Yelp bringing the self-stop freedom brigade investors
And the studies connecting one hit wonders with dust collectors
Puts it down, and it's down beneath your sappy sing alongs
So stick it further down where the daunted decide which ring I'm on
Nova yell just took positions and advance march
Parts playing a scheme parking the rain in my canteen now I'm like
Point I guess I could spare a splash for a couple of heads
Counterpoint during my famine I never got broke your bread
Well equation of intrigue, yes, yes, let me fed sit for a bit
These 'tensils need soaking before I hand out token
"Shut the fuck up" drama like Kabuki with a heart of dirt
Skull fucked cross bones hence my birth it hurts

Chorus:

Must not sleep must warn others
Trust blocks creep where the dust storm hovers
I milk my habitat for almost everything I want
Sometimes I take it all and still can't feel this pitfall in my gut
And I'm like must not sleep must warn others
Trust blocks creep where the dust storm hovers
I'm trying to walk on top of sunshine
But it's ridiculous at times that's why I tore 'em with this warning

Verse Two:

Wanting the glory of our advance fire ants to water beetles
Free masons adjacent debasing on pins and needles
Pupil turned pedagogue benedicts into my dream
Beam in a billion bottle rockets off the golden mezzanine
I pluck the pedals off a classic blood rose one at a time
Gripping the stem and right invite the thorns to dig up in my lifeline
A metaphor for nighttime, ante up the slight cost of exhaustion
To salute the moon of our paradise lost and you're a spectator
Stringent, inch by sacred inch shoveling colon in my earthworm soul
Borough up through the dirt with bloody digit lick my knuckles clean
Noting the corporate clusters holding hands round the abode of the dam
And what's your poison? Starlight and amaze her with a nicotine chaser
Sip it clean savor the taste then sit and dream later
The ollage pay their back upon they hinges twenty miles
Across the glassy eye window of one less to passes by
Now I'm six foot four with a sick flow walk up just to recline
With no free time, the alarm storms at nine
My daytime's on some, yes sir, okay sir, right away sir
Sir do you mind if I breathe sir oh you do? Well excuse me sir fuck you
I breathe slow, I'm running with these fantastic amalgams
Painting casket bound careers to pierce gunning with classic albums
Security's the javelin, catch it; labor
Clocked in at seven six and haven't clocked out ever since

Chorus:

Must not sleep must warn others
Trust blocks creep where the dust storm hovers
I milk my habitat for almost everything I want
Sometimes I take it all and still can't feel this pitfall in my gut
And I'm like must not sleep must warn others
Trust blocks creep where the dust storm hovers
I'm trying to walk on top of sunshine
But it's ridiculous at times that's why I tore 'em with this warning

FULL EPISODE (where Batman & Penguin debate a la Obama/Mccain!)

PART 1: "HIZZONER THE PENGUIN"







PART 2: "DIZZONER THE PENGUIN"

CONSERVATIVE JOKE AHEAD

i think that the most popular name for newborn republican baby boys in the next year will be "joe." just a guess.

my tough titties: real thoughts on competition

the battle of the bands!

it was last night, and we lost. i really knew that was gonna happen. this is okay. the nervous part of me that didn't want to sign up was worried about the other acts, the people, being judged, and my final reaction to the judgment. the people were alright, in fact, mostly pretty cool. i got to hang with jake flaaten. and chris brown. and, of course, chris darling. the more time you can spend with these types and eli, the better. the other acts won it fair and square on their turf, you know?

i thought about it like this: if a haughty bird said to the fish, "you will never fly." and the fish were to be upset, he would be a dummy.

it's apples and oranges.

i had made a deliberate decision to do something i was very uncomfortable with. in the end i thought, "if we can win one heart..." then that would be okay.

while we played, while the judges tinkered with notepads, jotting things like - i dunno - "need better equipment, guy sings like he's shitting" and the people saw a band that probably wasn't what they wanted...i listened. no joke, the heart we won was mine.

i'd been so worried since, well - probably since charlie got all flaked out and the band started to suffer. one bassist after another. tour was a dirty fiasco. we were on these stages with the greatest bands. and fuckin' a - we sucked.

bad equipment. fuckin' TERRIBLE equipment. we didn't deserve to play with these bands i thought.

well, it was strange - and for the record i'm not second-guessing this statement, or any of these statements, although i'm usually the type to do so - the lights were on us and ten thousand eyes and the strangers we call, "fellow musicians," with their strange pop-sensibilities - and i forgot about 'em all. i could hear boots' great drumming and chris' driving bass and our vocals mixing and my vocals - which i never hear - and dammit - we were a great punk band. we win!

we would've deserved to play those shows on tour if we played like we did last night.

i feel good about losing!

well done commercial

maybe this works. and maybe you're gonna LEARN!

Yakko's World - video powered by Metacafe

i don't even remember how to post shit!

Pangea House Rules

“uuuuuuuuhghhhghhghg fook ufuguguguuweeee whiskey.”

this is the greatest line i've read all night. anthony jastrzembski wrote it, or - more aptly - recorded a drunk man for posterity.

anyways, i was very upset earlier and now i'm alright i think.

i was upset before i went to the Pangea Collective meeting. but, once there, i saw the greatest logo-design ever. (if you guessed "magician juggling the letters, P A N G E A H O U S E," then you win! your prize? i pop you some gourmet kettle corn! good work, you!)

things weren't working out too well earlier. hell, they never are. the figgity fucked up part about life, in my humble opinion, is that it's not worth living. i'm not arguing, necessarily, that it's time we kill ourselves with a threshing-machine either - so, DON'T GO THINKING THAT!

it's just hard for me to argue my way out of my own wet-paper bag logic. i stick around this planet for curiosity's sake mostly. a lot of times things are really fun and exciting to watch.

tonight i watched 7 people do some talking. but man, was it fun talking...we discussed all sorts of wiley events and things. fashion shows and photo walks and food not bombs and ghostbusters. sound like your kind of thing? well, keep an eye on us then! and hell, come help out. come set it up. and all that.

so, what we're trying to do is provide a "music venue plus!" this is the trend in all of the latest technology, after all. when you buy a phone, don't you want it to calculate gratuity, send funny pictures, and play you a sonata? DON'T YOU?!?! in the past these things were done by gaging the wait person's face, the united states postal horses, and your local church orchestra - right? well, not anymore! now you can get a phone that does all of those things for about twenty-five cents as you walk into the grocery store.

THAT'S US;WE'RE TRYING TO BE MODERN!

so, now you'll get a music venue AND tutors, painters, video games, open-hours, a lending library, and all kinds of neat things. you'll get a say - and you can even get involved!

cool, right? yeah, that's what i thought.

so, bad things. good things. the whole fuckin world on a plate. chow down.

p.s. if anyone is reading this: www.myspace.com/pangeahouse is where some shit is. there's gonna be a fancy website soon, but chris brown is a lazy ass.

and another thing; LISTEN TO LEATHERFACE!

maybe not fucked

Can you imagine standing up frustrated, lashing out with all of your being, swinging your fists, exhaling spittle, hot tears rolling down your face...

Can you imagine this taking place in a dome tent? The type made of synthetic fibers with a cheesecloth material for your comfort in buggy spots. The type of tent called a "pup."

In the type I'm used to there's not much for standing room and I'm not even very tall. If I were to rise swinging with all of my temperament set to furious anguish or delirious irritability, I'm sure I would bring the whole thing down around me.

That's how I feel right now. Seething. Frothing. Looking for fight, hoping for passion, and locked in. Passively observing the world as my ideals and ideas and hopes and dreams hail a taxi and head off into the dizzyness of night time.

reflection over the "why?" axis

as jawbreaker plays, "i love you so much it's killing us both."

i'm so clever. shit.

turns out joshua gagne has a blog...but he gets PAID! ha! greenoliveyuk.com...check it!

i want to talk about politics; don't get scared. the informality of this blog allows for me to try and sum things up, write things down, and generally have a good time while writing. please bear with me. i'm not sure i can even get my mind behind this stuff...deep thoughts are hard.

it's in the air right now. november is snapping that razorwire of decision - ELECTION - in our collective faces daily.

i'll come back to that.

my brother, jesse, is disinterested in society. the larger part of it anyway. he's a pretty affable, average joe that way. he goes about his business, sometimes curses the politicians, works, and raises his son, deyan.

just another guy feeling the pressure without seeking its source. blame him? no way. he's not a victim, per se, as he has the choice to deal with situations which threaten his liberty in most cases, i would guess. apathy is just where he resides. where millions of americans and hundreds of my friends reside. hell, where i reside usually.

i like to drink. i like getting numb. it's true. i note injustice, from time to time, and do nothing. no course of action is ever prescribed by this guy - both thumbs are pointing at myself, even as i type.

but here's what happened. jesse got his ass too near the flame. the emperor's clothes became transparent. he discovered a rip in our social fabric. and he was pissed.

this was only about two hours ago. he called me, flustered, "What's the word - not 'segregation' - but the word...for...you know, when they discriminate or harass like a section of town...not segregating race or color or anything..."

it was unique. it was interesting. different and exciting. i've been pissed before. everyone around me knows i'm discontent. my brother's not really like that. when he is upset, it's of a more immediate variety - it's anger of the "he said, she said..." variety. and even now, he still hadn't followed his concern to its conclusion...

"I just thought you'd know the term for it..." he began to explain that two weeks ago a friend of his had been stopped by the police. it was at a DWI/DUI check point. near the ground round, if i'm getting this right. she'd had two drinks, and blew a .10 - which, without research (i'm depending on inference based on my brother's upset...), i'm assuming is just the legal limit. okay, fine.

his upset is of the, "where will it end" type. he imagined nightmarish gestapo visions for me. like a gun-nut or wounded animal. but, he has a point, right? okay then.

so, i told him - that's what we've elected officials for. they determine what will be done in our public sectors, including our streets. as representatives of the majority these officials decide that things like stopping every vehicle leaving a certain establishment, street, or end of town for that matter is appropriate. nevermind that they might be making a sober individual late.

jazmine made the point that, as a mother, she'd rather be inconvenienced for a brief period of time and rest well than have her child killed by a drunk-driver.

you can take these scenarios anywhere you want. jesse believes his "rights" are being infringed upon, but what i think is that - without money, influence, or prospects - he's got no "rights." this is a fiction. they can arrest whoever they want whenever they want. "legal" or not. the silly brother was saying, "the founding fathers didn't set it up like this..."

well, brother dear, yes they did. ask black folk. ask women folk. ask native american folk. hell, ask your white-ass self, if you didn't own land...

wrapping that scenario up, i'm proud of him. i'm happy he's starting to care. to think. to see. we're totally fucked - unless...

he does what he's threatening to do. expose this situation. find allies. fight the fight, if it's worth fighting. it IS blatant police-statism, i understand that, but i also detest drunk drivers. i'm not sure where i personally sit on the issue...that's not what this is necessarily about, anyway.

this is about the farce. that daily bullshit. politics and governments. and the...ELECTION.

now, we've got two scenarios sitting before us. that is, we have two, IF you believe there's a difference between the parties...obama/biden - the hope that springs minimally, temporarily. will he fulfill any of these promises...do they ever? mccain/palin - palin's cartoonish ascent to the vice presidential nomination is most probably where my current batch of ultra-cynicism has come from...need i say more?

these two scenarios, the onset of political hysteria that has been sweeping the nation because of them, and numerous conversations about the nature of government and its control with friends and loved ones has got me to thinking. i've begun reading more.

to get back to it. i don't know if i'll vote this year. i've voted during the last five years. local and national elections. but, should i vote? if i shouldn't, why shouldn't i?

hmm...the "why?"

a link on voting, if you've made it this far...

http://dwardmac.pitzer.edu/Anarchist_Archives/bright/reclus/dontvote.html

buffalo sally

when we left the bungalow with the metal awning. corrugated, like they sometimes are. hope, max, and i headed towards the back. to a dusty dimly lit corner of the hospital. we laughed with one another, joking about the climb.
when you're around here you'd notice that there's not a whole lot to do or that there's limitless possibilities, depends on how you shape that. so we were gonna climb to the roof. the bungalow was more like a shack. particle board holding it together in a makeshift southern-style. it had a big porch and a banging screen door.
as we passed, our porch on the left, i looked up through the trees. on top of the metal stood a mighty buffalo. snorting and pacing.
"how the hell did a buffalo get up there?" i asked hope.
"i don't know," she said.
max didn't pay it any attention. he was the leader of this adventure.
as we moved, i couldn't help but think of that beast pacing our rooftop.
max grabbed this rope of a wire hanging down in the corner and started his swinging climb. followed by hope and i. we made the first level easy. there was a real slant to it - we went up where we could. it all slanted toward another level. not too easy, not too hard, it was the next bit that proved difficult. the rooftop over another smallish apartment or room was as similar as it could be to a circus tent. max had already scrambled off, as high adventurers do, towards the goal. whatever that goal was. hope and i readied ourselves for this last part.
i flung my right leg over the top, but thought twice when i saw the give. it would be like climbing onto an air ballon or a parachute. too slack. and the climb so far had been hard on me anyway. i didn't want to go out doing something stupid. the boots i was wearing were clunking and i didn't feel safe. so i told hope, "hey, i think i'm going back down." "i'm going too," she said.
we walked back through the empty alley and took the side door into the bungalow. max met us going in, "it wasn't much too look at up there anyway..." he'd said after we explained ourselves.
we were inside where teddy and two others were enjoying conversations. i explained why i didn't climb, "what if i'd fallen - even 8 feet - and landed on an upturned umbrella?"
it was then that i saw people in our drive staring up, presumably at the buffalo, that i remembered the buffalo and began nagging our friends who'd stayed home from the climb to come out and see this. one reluctantly accepted my offer, her blond hair and bath robe trailing us. teddy bounded out.
we got to where the lookers had been. there must've been three or four of them. they left right away. the buffalo hadn't taken well to being photographed and bothered, i suppose. he reared up and back. took a run at the edge of the rooftop. this i saw through the trees. he jumped. he soared past the trees and kept it up. a hundred feet or more. i didn't think he could survive the jump. i thought it would crush him to dust. it didn't. he landed as majestically as he'd jumped. the ripple of his fur and muscle as his forepaws hit the dirt was divinity. then he turned.
facing us, he squared off. a snort escaped his face. dust traveled the air around him. head down he began to charge.
there was much screaming. i ran as hard as i could and it felt like someone kept moving our porch backwards. i glanced over for a moment and saw that teddy was herding our blond friend with nips back towards the porch. as she pushed him away and ran in. they were safe. the buffalo was still coming.
i stopped and walked a moment. i thought this would keep him back and he did slow down. perhaps i'd confused him although the look in his eyes was no confused look. he meant to kill me. i ran again, towards the porch, towards anything. a green two-door sat in our lot. i ran towards it. fumbled at the handle. the buffalo was closer. i dived in.
and i woke up.

who no's

yo, might write some soon...

this letter i wrote to andy and alecia rostad explains everything

oh my. what a question.

alright, so the jist is ten people - 9 dudes and a rad girl - stayed over. they were from three different sets. six of 'em were straight-up bike punx from eau claire wisconsin - they're settin' us up a show in august now - cool! and two were lycra wearin' die-hards from boston - one, the one i SORTA knew - was from washington state. he'd gone to school where emily royer went to school, she's my ex - and through a strange twist of mutual acquaintance he ended up at the united pantry ready to stay over. well, the other two groups had found each other at the zoo or something, and after robert (one from washington) went out and about for a minute (first i gave him lunch) he came back having met them - dude, can they stay over too? - well, of course! and then we let the mayhem dogs out. spent 85 bucks right away and called everyone i could think of. so it's 9:30 and i've called about 40 people and we've got two cases of gluck honeybock - a case of pbr - a jug of carlo - and a bottle of r&r with three bottles of coke - so we're set. potential caskets played. i played the ninja turtles theme song on acoustic - a rousing rendition - when i reconstruct the event in my head it's fun, anyway - and their set's over and i'm wasted and joe and i had decided that FOR SURE we needed to go swim in roosevelt pool buck naked. so we take a small crew (how many was it? i don't know.) and head for the coffer dam. we attempt the walk. it's a hazard. i fell in about eight times. i was wearing over-sized crocs and couldn't make physics work with me. slippin all over hell. there was a bit of water running over the thing - we're having a lot of rain lately. and fuck. well, there's this kid with us. his face is a blur. i think he had blond hair. and i'm sure he was trying to help. but i kept telling him i could do it. this is where i fucked with karma. so we get in the pool by some miracle. and we're naked. i don't remember swimming. i do remember lights. the cops came. i didn't really hide out of fear. i just hid. like, "lights? lay here. okay." then, "no lights? okay, leave. okay." it was just auto pilot that saved me. i took the long ass trek home and remember thinking, "fuck this is gonna be a long walk." and anyhow...i remember talking with someone about how my cell phone wouldn't work. then nothing. the next day. the aftermath. recovery. shit. i woke up around 9 am. the bike kids from wizz were taking a picture of me. i was on my back on the floor in my room, buck naked. no blankets. knees in the air. like i'm ready to receive the missionary. they said something about being "hung like a retard," which - aside from p.c. problems - i don't understand. it's gotta mean either a) real big, or b) real small. i'm not sure. and i didn't wig out at the photo op, i just scratched a swollen brain and rolled out. found some jammy pants, you know? and the night before i'd enticed the wizz-kids with fuckin' freight train dreams. they're on the road for adventure - not JUST biking - and so...well, i had to work at 11:30. but - karma first - my digital camera, ipod, and cellphone had all come with me to the pool. the phone WAS ruined (i let it dry for two days with the battery out, now it's good again - ALL my contacts would've died with it! fuck!) the ipod's dead, and i can't find a single shred of my camera anywhere...is it in the river? it's a canon powershot - if you see it - call me. my phone works now. i had a gash on my left big-to that was gnarly as all hell. i thought i'd broken the thing. so, it was an expensive night for me. i should've listened to that kid, dammit! fuck. well, the phone works, my toe's not broken - so i'm only like $250 down. i did manage to evade arrest while naked in a big blue waterslide. and then...well, i took all the wizz kids down to the tracks with their bikes, and the racks on their bikes weighing out to about 60 lbs and six of 'em hopped freight for their first time...a magical time in the magic city. i went to work, robert (from washington) came to visit me - he ended up going with us all to bismarck for a wild show that night...so sunday's a different story...

hells yeah! STOP THEM ALL IMMEDIATELY!

so here are the tracks that are coming out next month on Tummy Rock Records - tizight!

i just don't know how to make them not all make noise at once...fuckin' A!

a little butt-rockin' intro followed by "Kaboom!"



"Rub It Raw"



"Mid-Fuckin' West"



"Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles"



"9-5 Punks"



"Squier Strat Starter Pack"

endless inspiration

Wonder Festival 2007 Cosplay
by AkihabaraNews

i was in awe of every moment.

i want to write a play. i want spectacle!

i think that the off-screen voice would sound a lot like HAL from Kubrick's classic, "2001: A Space Odyssey." well, HAL before berzerker-brain took over.

HowManyOfMe.com

There are 0 people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

i post a lot of videos, whoah.

song: The Fingertips - Picture Of My Own

(worth watching for the song, which is cut off - so, umm - maybe just watch it and then go find the song?)

hell. last night was awesome. gonna do that again.

if this isn't nice, i don't know what is

A Letter & A Response

Rick Watson - loud-mouthed crackpot wizard of my dreams - sent this to his co-conspirators, of which I am one:

Just received from Brenna Daugherty, NDHC contact for ND Reads, ND
Reads Aloud, NDAP laureates, and Letters Literature--
A Portuguese folk saying: If shit had value, the poor would not be
allowed to have asses. How is that for a diverse, place rooted,
earthy rhetorical saying? RW

I believe he may be poking fun at MSU departmental policy. I responded with this bit - and thought it classy enough to share:

It may not be as place rooted as you were led to believe, Rick. They're working on legislation right now; it's working title: "The Butt Bill." This piece of legislation, while leaving in tact one's "Right To Bear Arms" would eliminate one's "Right To Bare Asses." No longer will the population of America's middle to lower-classes be afforded the opportunity to drop trow. This ultimately conservative reading of the P.A.T.R.I.O.T. act is said by opponents to, "be the craziest notion I've heard come from The Hill in...well...MINUTES!" While, proponents - like the Big Ass himself - President Bush, have hailed this move as, "a monumental occasion for a modest America!"

Despite its flaws, however, "The Butt Bill" is making some folks' day, Cynthia Schwimmer - of Rockport, Iowa - had this to say, "They can pass it if they want. I'll be alright. But it's gonna make collectin' taxes that much harder on them - boy, where are they gonna stick it now?!?"

OK, Despite Obvious Flaws

(godtube?!? i suppose...)

Both Amanda Crawford & Miss Asher Noel did a great job of acting, the videography is on point (i really like the side-ways shot in the beginning - reminiscent of "Night of the Living Dead"), and it was real fun to watch Aaron Beck pretend his way into Karkov-dreams...

But, I still take issue with this piece. First of all, it's not very clear what is being said..."Don't make 'bad' choices," seems to be the leading contender. With that said, they knowingly bolster its message with one of the most ambiguous lines in literary history...

"And that made all the difference..."

For better or for worse. Right? OK, I'll make my own silly situations up - for fun. What we'll find is that there's nowhere TO GO with this...

Maybe they go to that party, in a tiny town, and pull over on the way back - at this point the alcohol hasn't killed them, just given them reason to pull over and vomit - now they find a lottery ticket - flew off the dashboard of an 18-wheeler as the big rig's driver fumbled for his Superamerica big gulp while rockin' hard to The Boss and E Street. Headed towards Nebraska.

So, now - let's say that the lottery ticket wins our heroes (hardly lookin' like heroes with bits of tonight's dinner on their t-shirts) a half-million dollars (with an option to take it all now, with accrued taxes - or take some thousands a year for 20 years). We'll make one last assumption: our heroine's mother has been fighting cancer (pick a type) for 6 months. Without money - she's gonna die.

Well, then. Eenie-meenie-miney-mo, 1+1=2, Bing! Bang! Boom!

Good thing they partied.

Yeah. Right.

OK, so the argument's clearer on drunk driving. And I'm no drunk driving proponent. That's not what my problem is. The characters clearly could have gone to the party and a) not had drinks, or b) called a cab. I know plenty of kids who do both every day. Hell. I don't drink and drive (even when I HAVE a car!)

If that's what this was - a bit about not drinking and driving I'd be more than OK with it. But it's about - get this - hearing God's warnings through your friend (an obvious prophet/vessel of the Lord) while drinking coffee at the Beaver Dam. "What if?" we're asked...well, "WHAT-THE-FUCK-IF?" I ask.

So what. Shit happens. Make good choices. You can't win 'em all.

I'd like the stats on car accidents, in town, on your way to church. Oh shit, they could be distorted. Maybe we could scare people into staying inside - whoah baby - FOREVER. Don't leave your homes. You'll probably die.

Maybe I missed the point, or it doesn't have a point - I think I'm only a little concerned that it may be attacking a lifestyle. A lifestyle that I may lead from time to time. A lifestyle that helps me and mine with this world - in a very similar fashion - to what their God does for them.

In conclusion, however - I would have to concede - that they did a damn fine job with the video - at least as great of a job as I did when I drew Cthulu and posted him up around campus, poking fun at the Christians. Shit - we're all the same. They poke fun, so can we - misunderstandings and caricatures are what make the world go round. The grease for the fan-blades, and the fan-blades for the flames.

Ha! Well, good work - and onward - video-soldiers. God Tube, to you all.

combating the diseases of affluence

i came across this term today while looking into my health. on days after a good night of drinking, smoking, and genuine gluttonous excess i will - if time allows - reflect on my choices. "that was fun, but i'm so stupid..." is generally what my reflections sound like. today i had the time because i called in sick to school.

it's a wednesday. i only have one class and i don't have to work. it's 10:30 and the day stretches out before me like a wonderland of time. no stressors. oh, beauty.

so i started looking around the internet. i really do - and i think like most people i know - want to be healthy. want to make healthy choices. for some reason we live more for now than for the future. this could just be our ages. we're young. hip. we don't feel all the chocolate shakes just yet.

but we do feel the hangover.

last week at nick holwegner's (crooked gospel drummer for those of you reading...) birthday party i met leisa and brady. they're real cool. friends of alecia and andy rostad and have a great dog. love the outdoors. kind of - well, ok - they're hippies. or wannabe hippies. can real ones even exist anymore?

well, turns out, leisa works at a cool place that throws away some booze sometimes. and i just happened to be there when this was going down. and i just happened to have had some in me and jumped on that train real quick. ok. don't mind if i do. thanks leisa. it's gonna be a great night.

and it was. i talked with jake for a long time. spent time with the poet jeff skarski. he, "didn't know there were people in minot really worth knowing..." well, that's not verbatim. mostly, he was drunk and happy that he'd met cool people. hell, me too.

i'm happy i meet so many damn cool people.

anyway, back to my story. so i drank. learned about skarski's world. he's got a german penpal. the translating book was on his table. he also has this thing about me touching his computer's wooden cabinet before i touch the computer. to ground me. get all the schocks out of my body.

whoah.

and at jake's apartment, on the landing, there's this 5-gallon bucket filled with energy-drinks. seriously. and we walk into the building past it, and i ask about it. what the hell's that all about? jake says it's been there for 3 or 4 days.

we take to the balcony and i keep drinking. we talk about crutches. he tells me about his grandpa. a preacher. jake would make a good one, too. and that's not an insult. i mean it in the most complimentary way a cynical-atheist-cum-mystic can.

his grandpa, when arguing for religion (not christ, but religion - i'm guessing?) would encounter the "crutch" argument. he would tell his friend, "a crippled man with a crutch is gonna get a lot farther than a crippled man without..."

after he told me that story, i asked him why he wasn't gonna have a drink with me then...

ha!

it was good times. i babbled. i miss that kid.

becky came over and i was hitting the road. and i called barta. and i said to him, "come pick up all these damn energy drinks i found!"

and he did. and we sort-of raced home. i was on the shogun. and i had barta beat - in a race he didn't know we were having - and then my shoelace got caught up on my pedal. and fuck if that weren't scary enough. i was at 20mph at the very least. the fixie'll lock up all around your feet that way, you know? and so my shoelace snapped, and the other part of the lace hadn't and it dangled.

so i don't want to stop. this is a race, after all. and i keep pedaling, but i'm sure to keep that foot with the dangling half-a-lace away from the pedal. i'm riding with one left leg extended and pedaling to beat hell with the other when barta passes me shouting, "this is for PINK SLIPS, bitch!"

well. fuck.

we drank some more. we ate crap food. i fell asleep around 3. i woke up around nine. i'm writing around 11. and i'm finishing my story close to now...

so, for some reason i started looking into colon-cleanses.

hell. i'm stopped up. my guts generally feel like settling cement, anyhow. and that adds to the lethargy.

i'm a way off-kilter being. so there's mind, body, & spirit. well, my spirits go...or the mind can't concentrate...and my body get stuck with the bill. "here, pick up the tab on this pizza-beer-cigarette party we had last night. i know, i know...we should've thought about maybe taking you into consideration, but it was a LONG day, don't you get it???"

ugh.

i ordered some whole psyllium husks. it's like a condensed powder that gels up and expands in the ultimate fiber-feature-event! so, like a glacier, it slides through intestines wiping out villages of disease-ridden fecal matter.

cool, huh? and it was only four-bucks!

PART II: WHY THIS IS NAMED COMBATTING THE DISEASES OF AFFLUENCE

I read this:

"Examples of diseases of affluence include: type 2 diabetes, coronary heart disease, cerebrovascular disease, peripheral vascular disease, obesity, certain forms of cancer, asthma, alcoholism, depression[1], as well as a major range of other psychiatric illnesses.

These diseases are categorized as non-communicable diseases, whereas the diseases of poverty tend to be largely communicable either through infection, inadequate safety or environmental health regulations, or poor hygiene.

Diseases of affluence are predicted to become more prevalent as starvation and diseases of poverty decline, and as longevity increases. From a sociological perspective, there is a failure among policy makers to recognize that development could be experienced as self-defeating if it means exchanging one set of diseases for another."

on wikipedia.

I'd never heard the term before, although I HAD spotted it's symptoms. I wrote a song once for Fist Full of Knuckles. Called it, "White Knuckles." In the song I just say a bunch of shit about privilege. My having it, and all. Well, one of the lines is, "All my friends have drinking problems, but at least they can afford to."

So I named this blog "combating the diseases of affluence," because it sounded like something we should try. It sounds good.

Fuck, how to do that? By sitting around typing blogs. I hate my arrogance as much as you do.

Well, that's that. Have fun with the new term. I'm going to learn more.

Knowledge isn't really power but that's what afternoon school-programs say. I'll gain that while the rest (the BIGGER fishes of privilege) gain real power - through banking.

Oh, today may be terrible.

Stomp On This!

I'd never heard of this Stompin Tom Connor before...but it's pretty funny. I'm not really a fan of funny-songs. I like Adam Sandler, I guess, but I think that's just 'cause I listened to him when I was young so it's maybe nostalgia? And maybe it's that he reminds me a little of my cousin Johnny...both of them remind me of learning guitar (Sandler and Cousin.)

So, no - I don't like Tenacious D. I don't like Flight of the Concords. There's that one singing comedian (does a song about D&D? what's his name? Steve or something?) I think they blow. Bow out, go home, you suck.

That's what I say to them...

Anyhow, it's a bit of a treat to find something a little funny to listen to and see.

Enjoy!

Weird Old Punx Vid

It's real tongue-in-cheek...worth the five minutes - as a history lesson, at least...

PURPOSE? NO - PURPOSES!

It's been a long time since I've done this. I really did have some good times when I was blogging daily - but it didn't stick. I don't know what it is...I get really interested and excited about things and that lasts about five minutes. Everyday is a new and exciting adventure. A new obsession. Right now it's the band I'm in. Next week it might be synchronized swimming. Last week I think it was comic books. My interests change so often. It's a fact that I'm flighty, to say the least.

Well, son of a bitch. What am I supposed to do about this? I was talking with a friend the other day about this widespread problem I'm having about widespread interests and the sprawl - even glut - that come with it. I can't keep up with myself...

I think that's alright. If I can accomplish half of it I'll be remembered fondly by half-wits and kooks, anyhow. A leader in the field of nonsense.

And that's what we were talking about. How to fix this. How to focus. If I could gain clarity, mission, a purpose - a SINGULAR purpose then I could be great, maybe. Maybe not - but I'd feel more USEFUL? perhaps? Or that I was trying harder. I was in service to a greater good. Following my heart. Asking, "May I have your attention, please?"

Blah. Blah. Blah.

The rollercoaster of thoughts, ideas, and wild-schemes isn't ALL bad, however. I think two things can be said:

1) It IS important to try new things. Shake it up.

2) It IS possible to have a determined mind. It IS possible to fall in love fully. To be driven.

So, what logically falls in line when thinking all of this? What follows one and two? What's next?

Trying a thousand things makes shit interesting. Like mix-tapes and variety shows. I love that. I love taking anything but the direct route across town. Longer? Maybe. More things to see? Definitely.

So, what if in the process of loving a million things...I fall in love with one. And not just a stumble. A headlong dive-on-in - that would be alright.

Maybe I have a secret talent and it's called "water aerobics."

That would be O.K.

In the meantime though - and I mean this more than ever - I'll enjoy everything. Suck the marrow out of life and all that. There IS so much to see and do and be. I may very well be fulfilling my purpose right now.

Job Description: Jack-of-All-Trades

You know?

I really liked "Son in Law" with Pauly Shore. Hell - I really like Pauly Shore - screw you. And in the movie, Pauly would do wild things. Dance a two-step and say, "Couples Dancing - two semesters." Skin a cat and say, "Taxidermy - one semester." Beat the jerk-off ex-boyfriend of his love interest's ass and say, "Judo - three semesters."

You get it.

Maybe that's me. Trains and bikes and thumbs have taken me far. Concerts, oceans, vegans, and carnivores. Part time: painter, writer, blogger, health nut, dirtbag, and learner. Loving life. A little bit country. A little bit rock-n-roll.

Hell yes! So there's that. Glad to blog again.

WHEW, where'd I GO!

right here!

so much to write about.

but now's not the time, and tomorrow doesn't look good either!

yikes!

check this out though...

myspace.com/holysmokesfather

there's sweet pictures from a fuckin' costume/crossdressing party.

not sure if you have to have myspace to check 'em out...

hope not!

lots of love...

who watches...YOU

So, there's a comic book. It's not JUST a comic book, however. It's a sordid tale of superheroes who aren't alright...everything's not O.K. in this world. There's no longer truth, justice, OR an American Way in Alan Moore's Watchmen.

Here's what my man, Wikipedia, has to say about the series:

"Watchmen is set in 1985, in an alternative history United States where costumed adventurers are real and the country is edging closer to a nuclear war with the Soviet Union (the Doomsday Clock is at five minutes to midnight). It tells the story of a group of past and present superheroes and the events surrounding the mysterious murder of one of their own. Watchmen depicts superheroes as real people who must confront ethical and personal issues, who struggle with neuroses and failings, and who - with one notable exception - lack anything recognizable as super powers. Watchmen's deconstruction of the conventional superhero archetype, combined with its innovative adaptation of cinematic techniques and heavy use of symbolism, multi-layered dialogue, and metafiction, has influenced both comics and film."

If that's not awesome ENOUGH - can you dig this - they're making a movie out of it...this could be terrible, actually - but I'm sure to see it in theatres...

So, I surfed on over to the IMDB - that's the Internet Movie Data Base, crony! - and checked out their message board. There was one thread called: "The perfect song for the credits of Watchmen..." or something like that. Some of the people not only listed songs...but gave links to videos. As always, I dig up the gems so you don't have to!

(What horseshit...I don't dig up ANYTHING! But, didn't that seem Superhero to say? I mean, REALLY!)

The first video is lame - the SONG isn't though. I'd never heard of the band - Trocadero - before, but really like the song. I've listened to it like nine times now.

The second is of this band Def Con One - it's not too bad either. For some reason it reminds me of Adbusters. That's alright by me.

The third...we can make our own call, can't we? Don't let me tell you everything...it's techno. The artist is called...Luke? Maybe?

Happy watching!

kinda funny

how my last post was called, "yeah, i update daily."

then i didn't post yesterday. that's kinda funny.

check out myspace.com/holysmokesfather

we're a real band now.

and here's my new tattoo:

hell yeah, i update daily!

The Tale of Mount Krispy

As Mount Krispy loomed ominously in the distance, Greystar the Goat, clambered home from school. Mugsy Skullz and Phillie Blue - can you tell which is which? - were up to no good, freestyling by the cacti.

They stopped poor Greystar, and began intimidation tactics. This meant being really cruel.

"Grrr! You're a nothin' and a nobody! Your mama does your laundry! Yo!"

They were determined to make Greystar do their dirty work...
"Climb Mount Krispy, Goat! We're hungry and the best Krispies are at the top!"
Greystar cried, "No! I cannot climb! I cannot climb at all! Mama!"

Phillie Blue pretended not to hear Little Greystar's pleas. "I KNOW what you GOATS are capable of! NOW CLIMB! Or do I have to...THROW YOU!" He had picked up Greystar and was aiming at the dreaded...SEA OF SOUR CREAM DOOM!

Mount Krispy seemed unaware of the danger which would befall Greystar in mere moments.

But, what was this fair reader? A SHACKLEBEAST had come to rain his beastliness down upon Mount Krispy! In one fell swoop of his beastly paw, the beast had toppled the Mount-ain!

"Well, now it is unnecessary to end your life little grey one," said Phillie Blue.
"Grumble, grumble," agreed Mugsy Skullz.
"Can I eat with you?" asked Greystar.
"Why, yes. Eat with us what the Shacklebeast has given," said they.

It was over...for now.

we wrote this: Wade and Billy

punk rock confidenial: follow up. good things.

NOTE #1: immediately after posting "punk rock confidential" i DID do something proactive, and i think the solution will be seen as a good thing...

so i agonized over that "punk rock confidential" post. i seriously wrote - and rewrote - read it out loud, over, and over...

posted it on the myspace blog. took it down. there's no room for that shit. just naysayin' to nay say. what i'm gonna do now is tell the good things. the hopeful, idealist side of me cannot breathe easy knowing that i've only put "bad words" into the air.

i gotta come clean.

there's more than a little bit that is amazing about this fuckin' scene. always has been.

in real-life, this is where i'd say: don't get me started - whew! thank god it's not REAL life. just blogging.

o.k. so, since you're here (or you're not...i mean, it's a tiny blog in a world full of more interesting shit...maybe i should learn to use flash-html?) i'm gonna talk for a minute. about the good things. past, present, future.

diggin' up bones:

since the dawn of minot's crazy little music scene. before the liberty - back to a garage on 5th street - i wasn't there, so this is hearsay - Nobodies Children played a show. for friends, i'm told. and a few kids were there.

punk rock in minot had begun.

here we are: 15-20 years later? i can't be sure. i told you, it's hearsay. there have been multiple venues since then. cheese factories, golds, sweethearts, cores, mc3s, liberties, that one places, amps, red carpets, mcgruffs, odd house parties, odd locales (public library - msu - fairgrounds) - and the occasional eatery show (bellisi-fuck-offs, and bagel stops) -

punk wasn't ALWAYS present, but it was - if you looked hard enough - generally the catalyst...the punks have been bringing people together around here (even at that wanna-be-fascist joint over by the college...they served coffee?) for a LONG damn time.

now - the question - was it the acts or, the community - that made minot the top notch spot in the dakotas? i mean it - top notch. look around: where's the other venue? how long have we consecutively had venues (barring strangely unsettled periods that lasted under six-months at a time?) YEARS is the answer. grand forks had kafe kosmos...that place was rad. for the whole year it existed. bismarck had the midtowner pretty regular - but that was just a hall they rented. they had the screaming bean - but that was the same story.

minot has maintained an all-ages atmosphere for a decade or more.

whoah!

and the kids came out...and bought merch...a national reputation would follow. we don't have a fuckin' gilman street, a roboto project, and we can barely sing the ABC's - we're not adding NO RIO any time soon...but we're lucky enough to have had lots of REALLY great acts: from bikini kill, to link 80, smackin isaiah - to a wilhelm scream...defiance ohio, josh plogue - shit! - the lords of lightspeed - the ergs! - these things have to do with the dedication of punk rock emissaries, kids who booked 'em - but that doesn't mean shit if kids didn't dance so that great band "X" would tell great band "Y" that they should come here. know what i mean?

so, for the "past" portion, let me say: we've got years of dedication put into this shit. the things the first kid did influenced the second kid and so on - i'm still doing things based on models started over a decade ago - do i do new shit? of course! and kids down the line will do new shit too...

and there will ALWAYS be that kid down the line around here - if any of these past years mean "precedent..."

fast forward. bump ahead. meld. it's now the present...

we've got kids who were a part of those formative years coming back. some of this shit is getting archived now. we're - at a basic level - giving props to minot's punk past - rich, varied, messy - brutal. the weak shit and the awesome shit. it's all a part of the fabric.

we're retaining kids in a way that we've never been able to pull off before. audiences are bigger. stranger concepts are taking hold. different ideas are coming to the table. skill-sets are being developed - and shared...

the retention is the most fascinating part: older kids are coming back, and shows regularly have a good amount of twenty-somethings in attendance. we're young adults; we're taken more seriously. now we can get shit going. i talked two different store owners (both my bosses - and hell - sue really sort of suggested it...) into having acoustic artists play in their shop - FOR MONEY! this is a big deal.

it's all ages. and we're getting paid.

no, money doesn't always matter - but guitar strings cost money. shit - make that guitar pay for itself!

that's just me. just what i can do. other kids do other cool shit. it's easier now to do a lot of things. we know where to snag free copies for your zine - we can help you silkscreen a t-shirt - we know the best bars - and a good chunk of us fuckin ride a bike.

how's that for punk growing up?

whoah! it's big. don't take it for granted: things have NOT always been this way.

so right now we've got great powers, and with them comes - GREAT RESPONSIBILITY...

spiderman!

so, for the future - we need to get those kids out there to come on in...we need more music. we need that pride that comes from an all local show. we need to know one another's names - as this thing grows - we SHOULD be able to grow with it.

i think we can.

MORE NOTES:

#1 - i REALLY don't give a shit which out of town act played here. it IS, however, a source of pride - and should be - i suppose. that's why i listed all those kick ass bands. there were/are more than a few amazing artists here that are just as good. it's about exposure - really. aerosmith started in a garage. right? i dunno...

#2 - which leads me to my next point about what's awesome now - tours! when i was a young pup not that many of the bands around here were touring...now: diabolic octopus, potential caskets, crime rate in iowa, the crooked gospel, jazmine wolff, last great summer, & father, son, & holy smokes! are all slated to be touring...what?!?! that's awesome for minot. we're gonna be gettin' repped and doin' show trades like mad!

#3 - the audiences aren't ACTUALLY bigger than they were before...not in attendee head count...they're pretty even with the norm. the "bigger" i was talking about was VARIETY. so many different people...so many different kinds (ever heard that No Doubt song? ha!) now we have acoustic performers, poets (what up lou!), crazies, deadheads...

it's nice.

no joke. this one's for you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zVFMZ3TajNA

you want some MiB action?

follow that link. you can watch the whole damn movie on youtube! i was just gonna post it but the embed code was turned off...

so, yeah. watch it!

the dude who posted it (or dudette, perhaps?) also has up:

KILLER CLOWNS FROM OUTER SPACE

and JURASSIC PARK

tizz-ight!

a memorandum was sent my way

just click it, print it, & color it -

safety has never been so much fun.

now winter had it coming: the interview

fuck!

hahahahah

here's the dirt...

It’s Spring Break here in Minot. It also snowed yesterday. Whatever. I’ve wanted to do what I’d call a “meta-blog” for awhile. A blog about blogging. The “why’s” and what-not. So, instead of doing this in any sort of laborious manner: racking my brain, twisting my arm, thinking too hard – I just asked for some help. Anthony and John, John and Anthony. Good guys. And they both have their own blogs…

Exhibit A: John, http://www.j5mc.org/

Exhibit B: Anthony, http://janthonyjastrzembski.blogspot.com/

I had them interview me. Pretty smart, huh?

So, without more shitty banter. The kind that would have me saying I’m drinking too much for free at Eb’s while I write…here’s the interview…

We start with Anthony’s questions (he’s as verbose as I am!)The questions are him, and the answers are me. You figure it out:

1. Many bloggers write really intimate and sometimes embarrassing
things for the world to see. Do you do this? Do you also keep in mind who is going to read it, in regards to some details you may or may not leave out (I know I do, I have family members, a teacher, and my boss on my list. Having said that, I don’t edit myself much).

I’m pretty new to this whole thing. I’ve been doing it about a month. Embarrassing things don’t even happen to me, anyway – so – no, not really. Intimacy is also pretty infrequent in my world, as I’m sure you’ll agree don juan de-strzembski. I’m just fuckin’ with ya. Don’t worry – I kid! I guess, embarrassing: only my writing. I do from time to time worry about being misconstrued – but no one really reads this damn thing anyway, so I’m not too worried. That might change in the future (I’m planning to use this site as a hub for some distro-work I’ll begin soon…)

2. What approach do you take to blogging? Do you write a mishmash of
thoughts that just strike you, pictures, etc? Do you write planned out
essays, almost as if you were writing a book of essays? Do you talk about politics, or things of that sort?

My approach is pretty chaotic. That latest post “punk rock confidential” would be the first time I’ve publicly spoke about anything worth a damn almost ever. I mean, outside of song lyrics. I generally act more dignified, but it’s a digital world, and I’m sick of self-imposed silence. So – I guess from time to time I’ll talk about my world in a more critical way than I would have before…publicly, that is.

3. Why do you blog. Is it to keep in touch with people you can’t see
all the time? Is it sort of a masturbatory thing where you want your
friends to know how great you are? Are you trying to be an Internet
celebrity? Creative outlet?

I don’t really know. I guess I just saw the shit around. The “Blogger” insignia on shit. You and MC started one. I had to keep up with your Jonesy asses. Ultimately, however – I just wanted to post my zine, from the first zinefest here in Minot, online. I did that and decided I’d try this out. It’s been cathartic and from time to time people have even read what I’m puttin’ down. That’s a new and neat feeling. I’m writing, revising, editing, and – of course – posting, more than ever before. It’s nice to write. You know?

4. How much time to you spend on the average entry.

Maybe an hour on longer ones, usually only 15 minutes or so. I’ve been trying to do it once a day. At night, calm me down. Reflect. I try to do things that I would like to read in the future. I don’t journal as much as I should. This is a good substitute.

5. Are you afraid of silly stuff like someone who would not like what
you write is reading it (e.g. boss, police, family)?

Yeah. A little. Well, once I guess. I put up posts sometimes about not liking my bookstore job too much. This wouldn’t be a big deal, she’s not subscribed to my blog or anything, but I made fliers promoting my blog (I’m such a dork.) And I don’t want her to get the flier, load the page, and read that. You know? I mean, what a lame way to be fired. I doubt it will happen – and Val, if you’re reading this: it’s only because I feel lost all the damn time, due to lack of hours, and an inability to keep up with shelving-changes. That’s it. I think you’re a great lady.

6. Do you give a frame of reference, for instance, elaborate on a
person or place that all readers might not be familiar with?

I guess right now I’m hoping the people reading it already know me. I clarify some things, like if I mention Jim – I say, “Jim Cherry, Severed Head Records.” That types of shit. Mostly I don’t elaborate. Should I?

7. What prompted your start into blogging?

I think I answered that already. No other outlet like it? I wish there were better zines around here. Maybe they’ll start happening and I’ll head back to the print/photocopy medium. I dunno though – the internet is powerful.

8. Do you think it has an effect on your networking?

Maybe. It’s too soon to say.

9. Do you think it is another fucking waste of time?

Dear Sisyphus,

Yes.

10. Does writing your own blog make you want to read the blogs your
friends, or people you don’t even know, more?

Actually, yeah. I have more of an understanding than before and now I’m wishing I would’ve kept up with Jake’s more often. This is a neat thing and I missed the bus. I’m trying to make up for lost time right now…

11. Why are you such a raging douchebag? (kidding)
I’ll answer this after you do.

peas,
Anthony

peas? seriously, answer number 11.

Now, we’ll answer the questions of none other than rocket scientist McClure. Damn he’s smart. And so – tall! So…dreamy…


Thank you, Mr. Luetzen, for agreeing to this interview. I know your time is limited. First off, I should ask, what has inspired you to write "ennui go" ?

-- Hoping to add another, hopefully, unique voice to the choir of internet angels.

Where do you see yourself going with this blog?

-- Wherever wireless will take me – ha! Seriously? I’m just taking as it goes – a new hobby – I’m full of new hobbies, all the damn time. Like how you’ve got plans for a full light-rail system dedicated to hauling us to and from Bismarck. Damn, I love you.

Has it been a challenge to develop material? Where do you draw it from?

-- I’ve just been posting shit I like and talking about my days really. I lead a pretty interesting life, actually. Nothing too boring around here. Punk is exciting and I’ll proudly claim it – on my tax returns? I wish. I’ve been thinking more about saying things that matter, and starting to post funny shit I’ve created (I’m getting a camera! Thanks, Chris Brown.) I get inspired by everything, including John’s and Anthony’s.

Thank you, Mr. Luetzen. One more thing I might ask -- Do you see yourself as a cultural representative of a particular place, or more of a particular viewpoint?

-- That’s an amazingly deep question. Wow. Okay, well – I’m not 110% sure that they’re not entwined. For a long time, I’ve wondered if what I do is place-specific. I’ve never been sure. Could I recreate things I’ve done here, say, in the Central Valley of California? I don’t know. I’d try though. Wherever I am, I’d try. That’s just how I work. So, in that respect – I’m an ambassador of a particular viewpoint. The do-it-yourselves ethic. Yeah, do it together. But outside of bureaucratic bullshit-lines. Start something – ANYTHING – make it right when you see it wrong. Dig?

Like how Dr. Samuel Beckett (Quantum Leap, people!) finds himself trapped in the futures and pasts of different fucked up people in fucked up situations – and, once – as a chimp! And he’s supposed to “put right what once went wrong.”

So, there’s that. But I don’t think I would try as hard, have as much hope, or believe in potentials as much as I do if I didn’t grow up in the hard winters we got here. If you know what I mean? Well, shit of course you do.

So, there you have it! I can’t thank these two gents enough…I don’t wanna fellate them all night long, however, so I’ll just say, “You’re good people. And I know good people. I’m proud to know you. I’m also drinking Black Velvet and Coke. Spring break! Spring BREEEEAAAAAAK! Oh yeah! Holy Shit!”

somthin' fun for the kiddies

at work before noon...the day after...

well, what can someone say about last night?

highlights:

*three bands played for a whole lotta people.

*there were two instances of crunge-like jam outs.

*charlie ended up dancing nearly naked during the diabolic octopus set.

father, son, & holy smokes! played a great set. we weren't so sure it was going to go well, but ended up really happy with it. i'm counting that as our first real show. trent sang along to skulls pretty well. i also attempted to stay sober at least until we were done with our set. it worked out pretty well. i fuckin' love playing basements. got beer spilt on me. kids danced a lot.

potential caskets were tight as usual. i noticed trent pulled off the, "this is our last song..." trick. to make this trick work for you, here's what you do. you say, "this is our last song!" of course - then - and this is the trick of it...you play four songs. since you don't really pause for more than 30 seconds between them, and don't introduce them as new songs - YOU REALLY ONLY PLAY ONE SONG!

i'm actually a proponent of that method. the caskets did this at a mainstreet books show the other night. because my boss wanted to close and i told trent, "hey, man, make this your 'last song...'"

they're really f'n good. the new songs are awesome and best banter line of the night goes to, "we have a new 7" coming out in april on a label out of florida, it sounds like this..."

then they started to play.

jim cherry, of severed head records, put out the potential caskets full length a little while ago and was really pimping them last night. it was really funny to see his proud papa smile while they played and kids sang along.

stop the presses.

to talk a minute about diabolic octopus.

sure, the name is dorky. what name isn't? 'the beatles?'

maybe, just maybe, 'bag fulla dicks' isn't a dork name. MAYBE.

ok, get past the name. they're so tight. and when they're not THEY KNOW WHAT TO DO. i was all mashed up last night trying to tell their drummer jimmy about what i saw when they were off on a part. i'm thinking i came off as a) stupid or b) an ass. i was TRYING to say i loved watching the fumble and recovery. they're tight. holy shit!

and their new songs are amazing too. and everyone dances and they're just damn fun. it's so awesome to watch that many people dance.

their legend will grow. that's for damn sure. they've got a new shirt coming out that i'm excited to see. they had a whole bunch of people make drawings and then they plastered 'em all together. all these drawings of octopi and walrus-eye and shit. it's probably amazing. i drew "cthulu." in case you were wondering that's the ultimate evil: cthulu.

i think they're playing tonight, actually. so - HEY! - if anyone is actually reading this - you can catch them tonight. speaking of which, the cthulu might actually be there too - so - it's probably in your soul's best interest.

i hope the p.a. is alright. (that's a side note)

i went to bed at about 5 in the mornin'. that's when the party started to dwindle.

jaz played a show in fargo yesterday. she called when she was leaving (the night had only barely gotten started)...and made it back in time to party. fargo is about four hours away. that's a good time.

when i woke up at around 8:30, yeah - i was a bit hung over. but i got to it. the world won't wait sometimes. i had to work (i'm there right now) at 11:30, and wanted to start making food for the potluck tonight. that's gonna be awesome fun!

anyhow, when i woke up i found alex tucked in fetal position in the bathroom on the floor. the lights were on and the door was closed. charlie, wade, and matty b. were passed out in the living room. lights were on everywhere and trace elements of the party showcased themselves proudly, as if to say: come again, soon!

downsides? i don't know that there were any. no police. no drama. just good times.

i wish atom's rite, the crooked gospel, and semistranded had played. that sounds like a good lineup though, doesn't it?

hmm...the gears are grinding already...

for tonight i'm making spaghetti and tofu balls and collard green burritos.

what a great night!

p.s. sara and shawn are working on new issues of their zine!

shawn's is called, 'gratuitous violets.'

isn't that awesome?

signing off,
billy batson

calling the peoples

i'm calling all cars.

calling all hearts.

calling all arrows.

hope we can bring 'em together. the hearts and arrows, that is.

love happens that way.

and - oh! - AND - i'm calling all friends.

we're having a concert tonight, and it'd be nice to have them here, when everyone comes together it makes life worth it.

makes it all worth it.

so, to the penny arcades and boardwalks 'neath sunsets - this one's for you. because our swill-beer tastes like cotton candy. and our too-loud music is like shuffleboard. and our times are just as good as your rides.

and there are never lines about height. and everyone can get on.

a stretch and a yawn

i'm up for the day. time to make some paintings happen!

the coup happens every year. this year i'm gonna happen with it.

well, the hope is that if i turn in five paintings maybe ONE of them will make it. i'll be happy if it does, and - maybe - not real hurt if it doesn't. i haven't put a lot of thought into it, so i don't think i'll care. i mean, they give BACK your paintings. so, there's that.

so if i get my paintings back, and i've been meaning to paint anyhow and blah blah blah...what's the bad thing about doing this?

judgment. man, do i loathe that concept.

why do i do it? oh! oh! me! me! me! i do it because, like most people, i operate my machine on high-octane praise.

press the lever. turn the key.

you know who's best?

is it me?

my principal principle

would be?

hmm...tired a bit tonight. at least not as sick feeling as last night. whoah...

ever wonder about the moon?

me neither.

max daddy crow

"there are crows outside my window. i think i'm going to die soon."
- kayla jean

i had a crazy dream where i woke up to a headline. in the dream one person did double-duty. you'll have to tell me if this has happened to you...it's like their role switched back and forth. one face turning into the other mid-action, or - i'm just left with a weird feeling that they're one and the same - at least for the moment.

the two people: trent and johnny depp.

it was a lot like the johnny depp from 'finding neverland.'

and trent was there because he brought drinks.

he and i showed up to my cousin's door. jenny, that's her. and trent seemed to do this all the time, brought his bike in and put it where it needed to be and i fumbled around in back like i do when i'm being brought somewhere for the first time by someone who's at home in the area. i lag at the door. take longer getting my shoes off. stand awkwardly at the threshold, does this happen to you, too?

and so - yeah, it's my cousin's house - and yeah: trent's been there before.

so he walks in and jenny's saying hello and she's friendly with him, and i'm just observing. and he offers her a mike's hard lemonade - she accepts - and there's bathwater running. the living room is down a set of stairs and the upper portion of the home - where the entry and landing are, at least, is airier. almost seems like an apartment building. there's a door to the left as you'd head down the stairs and it's in there that the bath is bubbled up.

it's for the kids. and god - there are a lot of them.

she lives in this split-level apartment complex thing but it must be a shoe. she's got so many kids!

and they're all excited to see uncle trent and when i'm bringing my bike in and i don't know where to set it jenny suggests blocking up that doorway where the bath is running. and, for some reason, this will postpone bedtime.

the kids are ecstatic. this is where trent meets johnny. they're all so happy to see him, yet know - as kids must - that his arrival means bedtime will follow an hour behind.

then there's the spinning newspaper. like in old television: it comes spinning into focus, with a headline:

CHILDREN FIGHT ILLNESS DUE TO PREOCCUPATIONS

or SOMEthing...i'm not sure what it said. it was GOOD though. it woke me up happy. i thought about how sometimes we made ourselves sick or well depending on whether or not we wanted to have fun...

that's a good dream. it's 5:30 a.m. i don't care what the posting says.

i'll fill you in on yesterday, later.

a brief morning story

It was about a year ago that my friends and I headed from Minot, ND to the cities. It was winter then and you know how the snow gets. Piles of it. That's most of what I remember, down on Lake street jumping in and out of snow. To and from the car. So our vinyl junkie kicked in and we ended up at Treehouse Records.

It's a great place, if you haven't been.

Well, we're just kids. From a small town. We were looking at Elvis pressings when we heard an argument from the front of the store. A clerk and two older men, embroiled in debate. The subject:

Green Day

The clerk seemed only to be playing moderator in a lax fashion. Interjecting, "Whoahs!" and "Ooo.K.s!" when appropriate. The man in front of the counter on the left towered over his arguing counterpart while the clerk looked on. The man on the right was of slight build with a scraggled home-bum look. There were years behind those features, which was what initially drew us into the conversation - although - it IS a small place and they WERE very loud.

The man on the left: "They were in WINNIPEG. I was up there recording - they put one of MY songs on their first album and couldn't say, 'Hi?'"

"Doesn't mean they're SELLOUTS!"

"Whoah!"

Then, that age old chicken-and-egg question regarding sellout or not reared its ugly twin heads and it all got a bit crazy. We didn't realize they were talking about Green Day until a little bit after that first part, so you can imagine our situation. Crazy! Minneapolis: where the older cats are also the wiser cats.

You could imagine the rest: we watched. It ended. We went our way with some choice Bob Wills 45's...only...that...DIDN'T happen...

Instead, the tiny scraggle-faced home bum got exasperated.

"I'm GOING! I've got to catch my BUS!"

The taller man:

"You get that bus. It'll take you farther than GREEN DAY will!"

We roared in the back. The taller man said his goodbyes to the unexcited clerk. I went to the counter...confused about what had happened, here, in the CITY.

"What was that all about?"

"Oh, well - it happens all the time."

"Who WAS that? Some crazies, right? I mean - he said Green Day played one of his songs..."

"Oh," he laughed a bit now, "that was Grant Hart from..."

"Husker Du!" we cried!

Of course - Minneapolis!

Well...we'd only been a minute at the counter. I left my finds at the counter and three of us ran out into the snow. There he was...

Grant Hart!

We talked for a minute with the legend. Told him I book concerts from time to time in Minot. "That's on the Empire Builder!" Why, yes, Mr. Hart. It is.

He said we should make this happen and gave us each a copy of Good News for Modern Man...

la vida sin conocimiento es muerte en disfraz

life without knowledge is death in disguise.
- blackstar

check the gauges:

the upswing in energy could be a number of things. could be the beautiful weather we've been having. a mild kind of cold, barely see your breath - no wind. the lights hit the ice and this place reminds me of a real city. like minneapolis. i like minot at night on these kinds of nights.

i'd like to be in minneapolis, sometimes, too.

it could also be a head-trip. i'm excitable when i've got a day off. this means i haven't been excitable since we went on tour in december. i haven't had one day away from work or school. day without work? school. day without school? work. and hell, we'll have some days with both. fuck it. you need a character-building experience.

well, not tomorrow. ricardo's going to columbia. it's his parent's fiftieth anniversary. he's worried that immigration won't let him back in. theoretically, this means i may never see him again. he's a very good person. i hope that's not the case. and - who - just who - the hell would teach us spanish then?

so, he's gone. no spanish. no school. no work. nothing. i'm going to do back homework, paint, and start planning a tour...maybe with the crooked gospel?

fuckin' a!

but the upswing could also be the diet. who knows? it's not a diet in the sense that i'm trying to lose weight, look good, or be a part of madison avenue's idea of good lookin' - it's diet like what i'm eating. just didn't want to lose you in there. well, it could be the diet. made an awesome collard green burrito thing. just slices of avocado and tomato and some olives...

it was amazing.

jaz called it a "pocket salad." i thought that was real good.

so i walked down to off the vine. no wine for me. just water. i think the waiter used to teach me math. who fuckin' knows? well, gave sara her poster...it says:

"When all the trees have been cut down, when all the animals have been hunted, when all the waters are polluted, when all the air is unsafe to breathe, only then will you discover you cannot eat money."

- Cree prophecy. hope she likes it.

sara ended up getting sick. the wine? we'd drank the kikkoman plum before. i'm not sure. and it's her birthday and she was getting sick behind the building when we came out after settling up. i left a tip. darryl had already bought sara's drink.

saw lisa, ron, and the poet jeff skarski. skarski rides a bike. he was stumbling drunk when i found that out. i asked him if he was driving - real serious like. he said - no - i got a bike. and well, then - it was high-fives! i love drunk bike riding. shawn doesn't. but that's just his teeth talking.

walked up to nola's. mitch was worried 'bout missing last thursday's meeting. called himself a flake. he'll make it, i'm sure. people seem interested at least on the surface. who doesn't like helping people? please, no dumb answers to that. it's mackey's birthday tomorrow. so, shit - i had to buy him a drink too. shit i love that guy.

laura veirs is damn good. that's all i'm saying about that. next post will probably be a linkette to a damn fine song.

so, all in all, i've done the challenge for two days. i'm feeling good about it. i saw and well-wished lots of friends, i've got no complaints as i head to bed tonight.

UPDATE:

Anonymous,

To tell which water is raw and which is not they tend to use litmus strips. Under moonlight. During Summer Solstice. On a hill. While the band plays.