Monday, December 20, 2010

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Entry from journal of the year 2000. (actually 2001)

DEC 14th
Had a dream last night. Schoolhouse was in Nahant-scary cops broke up a show > Johnny X via Jeremy. One of them was this old piratey type guy (sort of like Fire Marshal bob (sic) character from in living colour) w/ a hook for a hand. He chased Mike G down by the golf course and I chased them.
cop was limpin.

Friday, December 3, 2010

Entry from journal of the year 2000.

Dec 3:
I talked to a girl
So I talked to a girl
and then I looked @ a girl
and then I talked to a girl

Thursday, December 2, 2010

From the 2000 journal

Dec 1st: Beautiful, nice,
probably practices Yoga
MAKE ROOM FOR GOBLIN

Monday, November 29, 2010

Rolling Stone


When stuck for a couple hours in the Ft. Lauderdale airport, I bought an issue of Rolling Stone because it had an interview with Phil Collins in it. I'm pretty sure I haven't pruchased an RS since the Beastie Boys were on the cover or something in 93. I must be getting old. Love that phil.

I love this kitty

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Old French (and translated) piece on Grey Skull

"

The sound of things that are crumbling: 13 minutes with Grey Skull
Grey Skull, Les Instants Chavirés, Paris, 4 avril 2008 Grey Skull, Instants Chavirés, Paris, April 4, 2008
Vendredi 4 avril. Friday, April 4. Grey Skull, trio noise du Western Massachusetts, fait 7 heures de route entre Amsterdam et Paris pour un concert aux Instants Chavirés qui durera à peine 13 minutes. Grey Skull, noise trio of Western Massachusetts, is 7-hour drive between Amsterdam and Paris for a concert to Instants Chavirés which lasted barely 13 minutes. Un peu bref, oui. A little short, yes. Mais un tour de force pour un groupe qui dépense tant d'énergie sur scène qu'il ne peut promettre que "de jouer jusqu'à ce [qu'il] n'en [puisse] plus". Compte-rendu d'un assaut sonique qui ne pouvait finir que par… un effondrement. But a tour de force for a group that spends so much energy on stage he could not promise that "play until [it] does [can] more." In a report sonic assault that could not finish by… a collapse.

Publié le 21 avril 2008 Published April 21, 2008

Emilie Friedlander Emilie Friedlander


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Quand George Myers, Dan Cashman et Jeff Hartford de Grey Skull (Breaking World Records) entrent en scène, on voit tout de suite qu'il ya quelque chose qui cloche. When George Myers, Dan Cashman and Jeff Hartford Grey Skull (Breaking World Records) enter the scene, we see immediately that there is something wrong. D'abord, leurs instruments ne sont pas accordés — en tout cas pas de manière à produire quelque chose qui mériterait le nom de rock 'n' roll. First, their instruments are not granted - at least not so as to produce something that is worthy of the name of rock 'n' roll. Et puis, quelques cordes de la guitare de Cashman et de la basse de Myers sont cassées – sans doute les retombées de leur dernière session thrash au Pays-Bas, mais tout de même un peu troublant à voir au début d'un concert. And then, a few strings of the guitar Cashman and the lower Myers are broken - without doubt the impact of their last session to thrash Netherlands, but still a little disturbing to see the beginning of a concert. Enfin, plus troublant encore, la cymbale de Hartford semble avoir été écrasée par une voiture. Finally, more troubling, cymbal Hartford seems to have been crushed by a car. Ou, du moins, fracassée par une batte de base-ball jusqu'à ce qu'elle ressemble plus à une fleur fanée qu'à un objet destiné à produire des sons. Or, at least, broken by a baseball bat until it looks more like a flower fanée as an object intended to produce sounds.

Une performance à base de son… Heavy Metal A performance-based son… Heavy Metal
Dès les premiers drones épais de la basse de Myers, le public se trouve confronté à quelque chose qui ressemble plus à une caricature d'un concert qu'à un concert en soi. From the first drones thick of the lower Myers, the public is confronted with something that looks more like a caricature of a concert at a concert in itself. Pas n'importe quel concert, mais le plus gras, le plus brut, le plus ridicule des concerts de "Heavy Metal" que l'on puisse imaginer. Not any concert, but more bold, more raw, the most ridiculous concerts "Heavy Metal" that one can imagine. Myers et Cashman agitent leurs instruments de haut en bas, plongés dans l'extase d'un solo virtuose à la Black Sabbath – seulement, chez eux, on n'entend aucun riff, aucun solo. Myers and Cashman waving their instruments up and down, immersed in the ecstasy of a virtuoso solo to Black Sabbath - only at home, we heard no riff, no solo. Hartford pousse quelques grognements sauvages puis plonge dans son "headbanging" si caractéristique, ses longs cheveux châtains se balançant à une violence telle qu'ils pourraient mettre un enfant au tapis. Hartford grows wild few grunts and then plunged into his "headbanging" if characteristic, her long chestnut hair swaying to violence as they could save a child carpet. Pourtant, il n'ya aucune pulsation sur laquelle il puisse se caler. However, there is no pulse on which he can wedge. Oui, il ya vraiment quelque chose qui cloche sur cette scène. Yes, there is really something wrong on this scene.

Oui, il ya vraiment quelque chose qui cloche sur cette scène. Yes, there is really something wrong on this scene.

Les singeries qui suivent tiennent moins de la performance musicale que d'une performance théâtrale dont les effets secondaires sont musicaux. The singeries below are the least of the musical performance as a theatrical performance whose side effects are musical. Myers triture un enchevêtrement de mixeurs et de pédales reliées à sa basse, tel un savant fou qui peaufinerait sa machine destinée à détruire la planète ; les sons qui en résultent sont aléatoires, parfois stridents. Myers triture a tangle of mixers and pedals connected to its low, like a mad scientist who peaufinerait his machine to destroy the planet; sounds that result are random, sometimes stridents. Cashman, sorte d'ado troglodyte à guitare, nous berce de ses habituels bafouillements inintelligibles, ponctués de quelques injurieux "Fuck you !" Jeff Hartford, lui, pénètre la masse sonore dissonante de son martèlement symétrique, tel une sorte de Barney Flintstone hard rock qui aurait perdu son sens de l'humour. Cashman, a sort of a troglodyte teen guitar, we cradles his usual bafouillements unintelligible, punctuated by a few offensive "Fuck you!" Jeff Hartford, he penetrates the mass dissonant sound of hammering its symmetrical, as a sort of Barney Flintstone hard rock who would have lost his sense of humour. Alors que les sons produits par la guitare de Cashman et la basse de Myers menacent de faire du hors-piste, sa raclée mécanique donne une structure et une raison à la cacophonie générale – tout bien considéré, sa batterie reste l'instrument le plus mélodique de l'ensemble. While the sounds produced by Cashman's guitar and bass Myers threaten going off-piste, beating its mechanical structure and gives a reason for the cacophony general - all things considered, its battery remains the most melodic of the whole.

Il ya quelque chose remarquablement paléolithique dans la musique de Grey Skull, quelque chose de pré-verbal, de pré-musical, presque. There is something remarkably Paleolithic in the music of Grey Skull, something pre-verbal, pre-musical, almost. Trois hommes des cavernes reçoivent en cadeau une guitare, une basse et une batterie, accompagnés d'un message décrivant sommairement ce que sont le rock et comment se déroule un concert de rock. Three men caves receive a gift guitar, bass and drums, accompanied by a message briefly describing what rock and how to place a rock concert. Convaincus que cela pourrait être une façon de s'attirer la faveur des dieux, ils tentent de recréer le "rock 'n' roll" sans jamais l'avoir entendu. Convinced that it could be a way to win the favor of the gods, they try to recreate the "rock 'n' roll" without ever having heard.

Un son qui pourrait briser une guitare en deux… A sound that could break a guitar in two…
En plus de mettre à mal les notions traditionnelles de mélodie et de rythme, les performances irrévérencieuses de Grey Skull malmènent le culte parfois voué aux instruments. In addition to harm traditional notions of melody and rhythm, performance irreverent Grey Skull malmènent worship sometimes devoted to the instruments. Les trois compères sont connus pour balancer leur matériel dans tous les sens. The three accomplices were known to swing their equipment in all directions. Myers et Cashman jettent régulièrement leurs "noisemakers", comme des enfants hyperactifs qui ont subitement perdu tout intérêt dans la petite voiture avec laquelle ils jouaient un instant auparavant. Myers and Cashman regularly throw their "noisemakers", as hyperactive children who have suddenly lost all interest in the small car with which they played a moment ago. Un jeu d'enfant… mais beaucoup plus dangereux : ce soir-là, aux Instants Chavirés, Myers attrape un mixeur et laisse tomber sa basse… du haut de la scène ! A child's play… but much more dangerous: that evening, the Instants Chavirés, Myers grabbed a blender and drop its low… the top of the stage! L'instrument, littéralement cassé en deux, devra faire l'affaire pour le concert du lendemain, à Anvers ; Grey Skull voyage léger. The instrument literally broken in two, will do the trick for the concert the next day, Antwerp; Grey Skull travel light.

L'instrument, littéralement cassé en deux, devra faire l'affaire pour le concert du lendemain, à Anvers ; Grey Skull voyage léger. The instrument literally broken in two, will do the trick for the concert the next day, Antwerp; Grey Skull travel light.

En guise de bouquet final, Dan Cashman grimpe sur un ampli, puis plonge dans la foule, provoquant une véritable explosion de pogos et de hurlements. As a final bouquet, Dan Cashman climbed onto an amp, and then dove into the crowd, causing an explosion of screams and pogos. Son travail accompli, il remonte sur scène et s'effondre d'épuisement. His work, he goes back on stage and collapsed from exhaustion. Au-dessus du feedback final, une voix retentit du fond de la salle : "Y en a marre de ces conneries. Tu pourrais pas jouer des Beatles ?" Une injure du même acabit que l'injure que constitue les 13 minutes du set de Grey Skull, mais aussi le genre de réaction que le groupe cherche à provoquer. Above feedback final, a voice rings out of the back of the room: "Y has tired of these shit. You could not play the Beatles?" An insult of the same ilk that the insult is that the 13 minutes of play on Grey Skull, but also the kind of reaction that the group seeks to provoke. Vous n'entendrez rien qui ressemble aux Beatles, à un concert de Greyskull, mais vous aurez certainement une idée de ce qu'aurait été la musique des Beatles si le groupe était né à Stonehenge, en l'an 2200 avant notre ère. You hear nothing like the Beatles, a concert of Greyskull, but you'll certainly an idea of what was the music of the Beatles if the group was born at Stonehenge, in the year 2200 BC. Oogachaka.

Emilie Friedlander Emilie Friedlander

A écouter : A listen:

Soft Spot , Breaking World Records, 2008. Soft Spot, Breaking World Records, 2008.

Dan Cashman et George Myers ne sont pas seulement musiciens, ils sont aussi Djs professionnels et co-fondateurs de leur propre label indépendant, Breaking World Records . Dan Cashman and George Myers are not only musicians, they are also Djs professionals and co-founders of their own independent label, Breaking World Records."

olden dayz

Aug 2, 2008
blognasium

what's the point in saying "what if?" but i wonder how things would been for me growing up if i drank cocacola or some form of caffinated bev. cuz i never did. i hated carbonated shit as a kid and didn't inbibe anything like it until i got hooked on the dew in my early 20s. of course that got out of hand and i had to give it up cold turkey, but coffee soon filled the void. and i'm still all about the big C. i even have a can of coke every now and again. so, as a kid i exercised as little as possible, so really the only zing i ever had was mental zing. and that was still usually rather focused and not so hyperactive. if i drank coke like every other kid i knew, would i have been more of a spazz and therefore not been a boring, sullen blob for the first 18 years of my life? (i stopped being so sullen when i got to college and made some friends). caffiene has been the main thing to put the zip in my hips for almost 10 years now? applying that notion to my childhood is really fascinating...caffinated kids...what a good idea.

in other news, it's friday night round midnight and i am alone at the hummus factory. i feel hugely disconnected with the outside world, though i will be spinning tommorow at the 11's tommorow and i'm pretty psyched on that. also will finish "thrashin'" when i get home, which i've never seen before, but love based on the first 30mins. only $3 bux at big lots! bought a 40 of miller high life based on mike's reccomendation (under two bux) and i'm ready to drink it with josh brolin and whole fuck load of other thrashers. then on to the Dead Pit, which i just picked up today....i love you Code Red DVD.
me, ben and george performed in baltimore and i had a good time. was rather proud of the mix i made for our dance performance. the dancing lasted 25 minutes....it was intense. the only evidence i can find of us being there is a a really bad review in the city paper:
"The nadir of the night was the next act, Ben Heresey, which were three guys who ran onstage chanting "C&C Music Factory" and proceeded to perform silly interpretive dance routines to an ironic backdrop of cheese-ball pop music while dressed in ridiculous outfits. At one point, two of the men wore ALF masks while shooting suction-cup arrows at the other one, who was wearing an Incredible Hulk costume, while "Easy Lover" and "What Is Love" played i n the background. They occasionally pulled a gag that was hard not to chuckle at, but overall it was the kind of smirky meta bullshit that occasionally makes the whole Wham City attitude pretty unbearable. They could've just taken off their clothes and rolled around in their own feces onstage and accomplished pretty much the same thing, but then they wouldn't have gotten to show off their knowledge of campy 1980s pop."

well, our friends in the audience seeemed to like it. and also, it's funny cuz we have no connection with wham city at all, and i don't think we really have the same kind of vibe as them, but how is the city paper to know that. and we were yelling "western mass dance factory." it was awesome to hang out with amy harmon and dave again. on their turf no less.
i go to great barrington on sunday to hang out with madeline and i'm pretty psyched. i've always wanted to go to great barrington. seems like there are all kinds of jokes i could make about that place once i've been there. in the past i've made "humorous references" to hanging out at the birthplace of w.e.b. dubois, but now it can be just fact.
i played at the elevens on monday. that was weird.
okay.
see ya.

Old bwogs

Aug 19, 2008
my birthday

so on friday i went home to the 'rents and got to hang out with lizzy for the first real time since xmas. it was awesome. we had pizza and cake, and honestly the whole 'me turning 30' thing didn't really hit until i saw that cake that dad bought with the '3' '0' candles on the over thick frosting. i got a little over dramatic and made a little speech to myself, dad, mom, lizzy, grammy and aunt cindy that i hope that "i still like punk rock, heavy metal, cartoons and videogames when i'm 60." then i blew out the candles. i wonder if things would have been different if i actually tried to list ALL of the kidcentered or frivolous type things that are super important to me. had a few brews and got to tell my aunt cindy who suggested to my mom that she could say "bugger" instead of cursing, cuz that's what her australian friend says...like my mom would ever swear...but she was contemplating the word and i had to explain to my mom and grammy and aunt cindy what buggering actually is. i tried to do it in the most polite way possible. lizzy and i went to salvies on route 1 saugus and found nothing, but later spoiled myself with birthday money and bought the new james brown dvd set and the jack kirby biography. finally saw office space on cable when my parent's dvd player shit the bed for me as it always does.

next morning, got up tired and me and lizzy just headed out the door basicly. had a lot to do to prepare for what i thought was gonna be the bash to end all soiree's (sic). some legal speed did the trick. party store and spencers gifts expenditures on stupid shit and massive clearing out of the basement. oh how presumptiuous i was. i really built this shit up in my mind to the point of not wanting to go through with it out of fear of it being too out of hand. at 11:30 dooley, then ella, then martha, then rayla showed up. then some more friends came. i thought i was nursing my normal djnight style fear ("oh no no one's gonna come!") which is usually a false fear. ben came. mercury and teddy. cooper and godard stopped by. once i found out that crystal wasn't gonna be there, i got this serious woe is me birthday blues that i was unable to shake all night. lizzy and michelle were there. matt and lv. and some folks from the basement. maybe the first time i've self destructively drank? mood got worse. felt really bad cuz i wanted josh and adny (my special guest dj's) to have a super awesome huge crowd cuz they deserve that and i know how good that feels to have. and i really dig their tunes, but they don't really quite fit into the tuesday night thing. they seemed to be having a great time playing to the crowd of ten dancers, but i couldn't help feeling bad. i got more drunk and more sad. ann came, and some folks i didn't know. everyone had a good time. corey brought some champaign....that was quite nice. i started laying around on the ground. went and listened to geo's baltclub set, spun some early 90s club dance hits, danced around. layed down some more drunk and babbling. lizzy took care of me. i puked over the railing of our porch twice. felt like a fool all night for planning the sure fire rager of the summer, wasting my day moving shit around. it was like the ego police went and put me in my place. but for most of the night i think i did okay putting on some of a smile.

madeline sent me a box with 30 presents which i opened the following morn (my real b'day) and that cheered me up a lot. then i went to work. and now i'm at work again.

i'm trying to block out the thought of geo leaving for two months so soon. it's scerrry!

Old myspace blogs again

Aug 26, 2008
i don’t do trucker speed no more

i've been doing a lot of internal weighing of the goods/bads of my old life and my new life as defined by elements of late night sacrifice. what i mean by the last part is that my life used to be ruled by a drive to live each night to the fullest with the wastedunhappiness of the following day almost assured. i would get home from work and be amped to be out and ready to do something. rarely would i have anyone to do anything with at such late hours (getting home between 2am to 5am) and would make some coffee and stay up working on some art or music or whatever. if i was less pumped, i'd watch a movie and a half. sometimes i would stay up into the next day, till the afternoon, then crash for a few hours before having to go to work again. consequently, i'd get a lot of stuff done and be really messed up on no sleep and too much coffee all the time. or before coffee, it was mountain dew.
for a while, i existed in a kind of middle ground where i might start a project or something, but eventually go to sleep cuz i didn't drink any coffee, or the coffee i drank wouldn't do nothin on me. and that self preserving voice would come in, telling me to sleep.
more recently, i've discovered the pleasures of the after work beer or 3. in this set up, i can pretty much just have the energy to watch a movie after work. or if madeline is around, hang out with her. i get to sleep more, i feel better and less like a motorhead. and that's the thing, even though i was getting a lot done in my old life, i was always in that "GOGOGO!" can't be satisfied speedfreak mode. not happy, or at peace.
so i weigh that shit in my mind...and i have to admit, it makes me feel messed up to not have new zines and music coming out on a weekly basis.

and oh yeah, i work 38 hours a week now instead of the 28 i did for years. spirit crushed maybe? getting over the hill too?

and p.p.s. remember when you could go to the flywheel and on average of twice every 3 weeks see fat worm of error and fucking freak out with joy?

Myspace blogs

Sep 13, 2008
things to ban

"comments"
or if not to ban them, require all communication to done entirely youtube comment syle.
"ur hott" "LAME" "FAKE"
funny, cuz my mom used to always try and get me and my sister and dad to stop wisecracking and being mean jabbers by saying "none of your comments."
or "i've had enough of your comments."
now, i don't like comments.
basement was back to glory last tues, thank gawddd, had a good time with dooley.afterwards was too drunk to drive home, so i went to dunkin donuts and sat amongst the goths as i drank some coffee and fingered a blueberry muffin.
watched a dvd of survival research laboratory vids (some of which i hadn't seen previously!) and actually had nightmares stemming from it.
the whole of 145 south st were planning to kill a family in another house by way of burning it down...don't know why, but we were doing it. i remember creeping around the house and maybe checking out the little kids' room and maybe starting to see the fire. i remember seeing some of my housemates getting ready for the big blaze. at a certain point i realized that the big fireball was coming (explosive?) and that i would be burnt to a crisp. i just held my breath and closed my eyes and remembered taht fatal burn victims supposedly feel euphoria as their nerve endings fry.
i survive however and feeling guilty (about killing the family/burning house) i stumble outside and my clothes are smoking and i'm half burnt ala twoface. i wander around some city, kinda like new brunswick nj, my skin smoking. i find donny in some apartment with some girl and i want to ask to stay over, but then i wander some more. end of dream. fugged up.

more old myspace blogs

Sep 23, 2008
realization

just had a thought.

i have a lot of passionate interests, and i have friends that i can chew the fat with on these topics and for that i'm lucky. i take a lot of stuff seriously and i have pals and compatriots that often take these things as seriously, or more seriously than i do....y'know, fucked up movies, old hip hop, noise music, 'performance', comic books, old video games, and on and on.

but i just realized that i don't think i have any friends who have a real passion for classic animation like i do. y'know, like where it makes total sense to go frame by frame while watching bob clampett shorts or studying the background techniques of those hb dudes. i guess i owe a lot to cartoonbrew.com and johnkstuff.blogspot.com for really pushing me...but i've always been into this stuff...are there any lurkers out there i can talk shop with?

p.s. i'm not an animator, or a real cartoonist.

More old myspace

Mar 29, 2009
cheap happiness

I feel like rotting dogs...(take that as you like)...so I gotta keep on stridin'.
aka: do stupid shit like make lists.
my ten "desert island" albums in no particular order.
1./2. Beastie Boys "License to Ill"/"Paul's Boutique"....these two albums have given me more joy over more time (more than 20 years) than any others.
3. Lightning Bolt "Ride the Skies"...if I intend to survive on said desert island, I'm going to need something to make me FEEL ALIVE and to inspire me to scribble on rocks.
4. Stooges "Funhouse"...for when i develop fireside rites of tribal fury on the beach at 2am.
5. Sebadoh "The Freed Weed"...probably gonna need a soundtrack to all the meloncholy spirituality on this tropical, lonesome new home of mine.
6. Captain Beefheart "Trout Mask Replica"......"I was shanghai'd by tophat beaver moustache man"....y'know, making sense of it all.
7. Misfits "collection one"...same reasons as number 3.
8. Black Flag "My War"....I'm probably gonna be angry that I got shanghai'd sometimes. I'll try to chop wood when I'm angry and listen to this....
and
9. Public Enemy "Fear of a Black Planet"
10. Bruce "Born to Run" I'll listen to "thunder road" as the bomb drops or I start to die from malnourishment/lonliness.
unrelated note: I think I stopped caring about new bands coming once black dice started to suck (Beaches and Canyons).

Starting to put some of my old Myspace blog on here

Apr 20, 2009
twitter fame/facebook dread

hey, part 1 is that it was funny and weird that jimmy fallon was at our dance night on saturday. he seemed nice and liked us and took our picture. he twittered about it, with our picture. i don't have a twitter acount, but i saw it and so did almost 14,000 other people. it is really funny and weird. just this anonymous pic of me and geo (looking really mad) behind the decks.
so....anyhow......
part 2 is that since i hear an endless stream of "you should be on facebook!) all day, I wanted to ask you folks if there is anything about facebook that is having besides "everyone is on it now." I was totally ready to go down with the myspace ship and not do social networking ever again, but now that i'm single again...i don't know...but no one can give me a good reason to besides the arbitrary "we are on this new site now!" thing. any thoughts?
list of things i don't have:
cellphone
credit card
facebook acct.
ipod
girlfriend

Another dream from last night.

had a dream last night that me and a friend were in this sex fantasy wonderland/videostore. But we never saw the videostore, that was just the sign outside. And I had sex with a sex robot in a gazebo? But that sex is theoretical and doesn't seem to contain any details. And me and my friend (who I have had sex with in real life) were walking in this wonderland which was a oceanside cliff with all these people walking around, deciding if they want to hook up with each other. My friend grabs some other dude for us to have sex with, and I'm all "ehhhhhh, don't think so." So we run away. Up the cliffside comes this bully in a bouffant. We have bikes now, and he starts to push us around to show off for his friends who are at the ocean at a dock. Because I fear he will push us off and kill us, I take the lead and push him off, probably killing him. My friend gets mad at me, and then we hear the voice of Wanda Sykes starts chewing me out.

2 distinct nightmares

Both happened in one nap.
First: running through a big dark house dying, blood everywhere. I think I had killed someone...realize blood is coming out of my dick. I run up some stairss and there is a ghostly figure in a nightgown at the top of the stairs pointing down at me screaming.

Second: I am at a function that I am DJing with my normal partner, it is my turn, and it's too dark for me to see the records...I do okay, making a few random selections...One is "Mannish Boy" and it seems to work, but I can't find another record!

Which is scarier? The second one of course!

Problems with words

I've been having a problem finding value in my own words lately. I was psyched to start transcribing a lot of old movie reviews I wrote years ago, that I found in my attic. Unfortunately, they didn't really seem any good. Then I found an old journal from 10 years ago which had a lot of odd little entries. But.......who cares right?
Well, I'm forcing myself to write something. My family took me on a cruise 2 weeks ago. My old lifestyle caught up with me and a rotted tooth went into "shut Dan down" mode, and I was unable to have fun/drink/zone out for most of the trip. So I'm just gonna make a quick little record of things I did/saw/had happen to me while on this toothdecay trip.
Before departure, I took a long walk in Fort Lauderdale. Passing a rock with Sade playing out of it at our hotel, I felt kind of at home. Then after passing the Sade-rock, I put on my headphones and listened to Coletrane's Ascension. Then I felt alien.
On the ship I saw a couple almost Hi-top fades on some middle aged black men, it made me feel really happy and at home.
I sang kareoke as much as I could. The book, which had lots of typo's listed "The Message" under "Grandmother Flash." No joke.
No "Strokin" on this kareoke unfortunately, so I was building up to "Unwritten" by Natasha B. I do a pretty intense version of that.
So I filled the time doing all the old rap hits...this led to lots of people giving me high fives and votes of confidence along the lines of "Nice job with Mama Said Knock You Out last night!" As I walked this deck of 3000 strangers.
But the height was a little white old southern lady asking me: "Are you a professional rapppperrrrr?" I told her that I definitely was not.
The dance club on the ship had some of the most hilarious decor I've ever seen. Giant white hands and feet sticking out of the floor with bad Ed Hardy-esque tattoos. They were really huge limbs, and the white reflected all the light so it was bright, bright, bright in there. And I really would hate to be a DJ stuck doing top 40 now...cuz apparently even people who like things like top 40 now, don't seem to like anything but 2 or 3 songs.
So then I read lots of Conan stories (barbarian literature) and an old issue of Cinemafantasique from 1988, and listened to lots of Loren Mazzacane Connors.
Listened to the complete "Bitches Brew" sessions while watching Pandas play on the TV.
The kareoke boss asked me to sing as James Brown in the show at the end of the cruise. I politely declined. Ha, Soul Brother number 1? More like honorary soul guy number 108,597.
But man, my tooth was killing me...it's gone now though!

Monday, October 25, 2010

journal from 00

Oct 23rd: Nightmare Wallet
Mirror man cranberry
take the stovepipe express, bro

Friday, October 22, 2010

old jounals from 00ish

Oct 17th: Losing here and there, my work is sometimes a delicious day.
Oct 20th: So it is really 21, but it is also really saturday/sunday...............zyang botts
Movies and some warmth of being + a pinch of adv.


hmmm, i thought these would be more interesting.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Old entreeeeees

Found a journal from about 10 years ago in the atttic. The entries are short, and they start right around this date, so I figure I will put them in day to day.

Sat Oct 12th: It's all becoming more of an issue of outside beauty. Wishing I was stoned and Rich so I could fall into that beauty-world on the drop of a hat.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

The Stoned Age (1993)

After a not so easy night at the DJ gig, I preheat the pizza situation and opt not for a giallo, SOV or Cannon fodder, but the netflix streamy doohicky. The "Goofy comedies you'll love" section had mostly of Troma dreck (no thanks) and then this period piece which I recall reading about upon it's release. Correct me if I'm wrong, but Film Threat really talked this one up essentially as "BETTER THAN DAZED AND CONFUSED!" Well, rest assured, it is not better than Dazed and Confused. In fact The Stoned Age mucho sucks, but I did enjoy it on some levels.
The film concerns two burnouts, Joe and Hubbs and their attempts in scoring some potentially mythical chicks, and the competition they encounter from a legion of other burnouts. The simple premise works to the advantage of the film, as it creates a casual atmosphere which doesn't require too much acting or set pieces or variation in dialogue. As long as it's funny right? Yeah, you can smell the low budget on this from the opening shot, where we plainly see modern cars drive past a hitchhiker. From here we see where the majority of the budget must have gone, as Black Sabbath's "Paranoid" plays over the opening credits, as the BOC logo emblazoned "Blue Bomber" cruises down the strip. Now, I only spent 2 years of my life in the 70s, and I don't remember anything about it, but I've seen alot of old cruising vessels in my time (in films and still in action) and I don't believe I've seen anything that looks like the ugly-ass wagon these boys drive around in. Period detail does not seem like a concern for any of the involved parties, as most of the characters look straight out some bad-tv-show-with-fake-grunge-band crowd surfing scene. In fact, Hubbs, the asshole one looks a lot like Eddie Vedder to me, but that's beside the point. Most of the movie has the look of an early 90s made for cable erotic thriller, but I can get into that. I'm not watching this movie for any visual pleasure, as sad as that seems, but for some cheap laughs, and there are some of those...not enough though.
What I did like most about the film is that every character except the "audience identification sensitive guy" (Joe) is a total asshole, and even that A.I.S.G. is irritating and wishy washy, just like most "sensitive" people. Luckily Joe still wants to get laid, so you don't just wanna smack him the whole time. So yeah, seeing a film from the early/mid 90s where there isn't some kind of "message" about believing in yourself, or being true to yourself, or trying to understand others, or.....whatever, is pretty refreshing..no lessons to be learned here except that "teenagers" are sociopathic shitheads. I guess plenty of that came around in the late 90s...whatevs. Well, unlike the "damaged youth" films of the late 90s and beyond, I don't think this film is trying to say any grand statements about the curuption of western society or anything, it's just dudes being douches.
I find it kind of interesting in that the stoner and proto-metal concerns of the characters herein forecast the reevaluation of such previously derided genres by the hip crowd of the past decade. Who would have thought that there would be young dudes and gals walking down your street with long hair, scruff and BOC tshirts? I'm into it. Dudes from BOC make a post credits appearance, as does BOC live footage along with an big eyeball made by Screamin Mad George. Taylor Negron plays a liquor store employee for the second time (?) but with a much different vibe than in River's Edge.
Man, Film Threat was such a shitty magazine, thank god I encountered it as a youngster, cuz if I was older I would barf.

Monday, September 13, 2010

The behemoth is like Zima...
Cerberus was like Bud Dry...

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Dark Holez!

I don't think it's such a good idea to crawl into a dark hole that has no money in it.
And if I find a pit that has got the green stuff, that pit better be shallow.
I can be quite shallow when it comes to a short trip to get some money.
Money is cool cuz you can do shit with it and buy a big thing of records and shit.
I'm scared, cuz often money leads you to being an asshole or being on drugs.
I want neither of things, even if I could be a millionaire.
That guy Jeff Koonz made a boat or something.
What can I make?
Without jumping into some fucking chasm or whatever...that is.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

more self promo

I fear....

I've lost the impulse to write. About anything or whatever. So here I am forcing myself. I a love certain drug a lot, and it helps me do things like "this," and that's why I don't do that drug. It's too nice. I'm listening to a Professor Griff solo single on Luke records right now. I'm going to watch Hey Good Lookin' on VHS (not the WB clamshell) in a few minutes. I wrote that Machete review while babysitting an art gallery in town. I have some collages up there, I'm happy about that, lots of unlikely folks came in and looked at them. Old people, whoever. There is a closing reception on Friday...the appeal of the wine and cheese is diminished hugely when you have to provide it yourself. Wine and cheese should be free. I quit my good paying/soul crushing/tiring job and thought my productivity would go up three fold, but instead it's like the old days on a good week, but with less stress. The space in my mind that was taken up by the job (Hummus factory) hasn't really been replaced by anything except the feeling of cruising. Smooth sailing. It feels weird...y'know, enjoying life. It's pretty hard for me to commit to things, even more so now, I think. I listen to half a record, check the innanet, watch some of a movie, try to clean my room, wash some dishes, record some music. Drugs?
I feel a little funny that my favorite part of Machete was the mother/daughter 3 way...I guess that's good exploitation...making you feel weird and sleazy.
The 12" of "Teenage Love" has a different version of "Treat Her Like a Prostitute" on it...cool.
Now I'm listening to "Pile Driver: the Wrestling Album part II." This one is heavier so far. Heh.

Monday, September 6, 2010

Machete

Just saw this matinee on Saturday at the Hadley Mall. It was wonderful; basically everything I could hope for in a movie. I suppose at this point it goes without saying that some CGI moments bugged me, but that's life in 90s, or 00s, or teens.
The rousing opening sequence involving Machete's attempted rescue of a nude babe from the clutches of fat Steven Seagal sets the tone firmly in Cannon Films territory. One-liners, lack of logic or subtlety, naked babes and sleazy vilians continue to punctuate the film throughout it's overstuffed/overlong running time. That's fine by me as I enjoyed every convoluted plot twist, every new character, every body heaped onto the pile. I have to admit, this almost operatic web of sleaze leaves behind some of the effervescent fun of seeing the "fake trailer" way back in the Grindhouse days.
The message of Immigrant empowerment comes in thick broad strokes, and I admire the propagandist adherence to a ideology. There isn't a moral tacked onto the end here, or much complication in character to get in the way. In Machete you have brutal violence and hot babes (actually, very hot babes) fused to a real need on the part of film makers to give a big fat "FUCK YOU" to xenophobia aimed towards Mexicans. Oh and don't worry, the hot babes dole out a lot of the punishment. Cool.
As a prerequisite for a good action movie, you need Heavy heavies, and that's where Machete really shines. As good as Trejo is as the titular fucking badass, it's Segal, Robert DiNero, Jeff Fahey and especially Don Johnson that give the film it's real flash. To say they chew the scenery is putting it lightly...chewing the film sprockets is more like it. And we've also got Cheech Marin who is fantastic as Machete's brother, some Cholo chicks at a chop shop, gnarly henchmen/women and a bunch of other cool stuff. Overstuffed with cool stuff, it's no lean mean machine, but it's still pretty awesome.
I've encountered criticism of Machete that the "joke is that the film is supposed to bad, but so what?" The problem with this criticism is that it's total bullshit. This is pure action cinema for action fans...hey, I'll even say that I liked Planet Terror more, but that's no real issue for me. I want a world where I can go to the movie theater and have the option of seeing a fine piece of trash...or 2 pieces of fine garbage...or 3 pieces of shit...whatever.

Monday, August 16, 2010

Best Horror Comic EVER!


From Sorcery No. 9 Oct. 1974








Thursday, August 12, 2010

Well Jesus Fuck, here we go.

hello one follower.
I quit my full time job that combined with my part time dj gigs killed most of my time and energy...maybe now I'll write some shit in here and on paper or some shit!
Drink some coffee and write!
Why did they illegalize ephedrine in Massachuesetts? Whatupwithat?
I'm listening to the JSBX "Extra Width" DBL Disc reissue...it's really good. I was convinced for a couple years that this band would never be considered cool again...I guess I was wrong, and I'm lovin it...great to both hearing those old faves and drivin up to an unknown spot in eastern MA.
Welfare Records in Haverhill, Ma...highly reccommended. Thanks for Jon D. for giving me the heads up on this...pulled my normal stylee at indie record store i.e. buying against the specialty..normally this means cheap hip hop and dance in a punk store...today it meant reasonably priced hip hop and dance in a punk store. damn you internet! (jk jk jk).
Picked up the Fearless Four single written about in my fave book of the year :howtowreckanicebeach.com:(not quite the name of the book, but I ain' t no hyperlinker).
Tapper no longer appears to be in residence at Salem Willows...almost all the videostores are closed...I hope some fellow movie weirdos picked up the vhs before any destruction happened.
Photographics in Beverly had basicly every movie I am glad I saw, and a bunch I didn't get around to checking out...fugggg....also a few that I didn't appreciate at the time>>>>not quite at the bottom of the barrel yet. SOV was not for me yet, Splatter: Archetects of Fear? I'd love to see you again. I guess I should get back on this torrent shit, eh?
When the Newbury comics opened in Peabody in 94 or 95 I would buy 7"s often on how many inserts and weird stuff came with it...I could never get enough of that Shellac "The Admiral" 7" with the photo on it and the key to all items in Todd's room. Thusly I picked up the Capitalist Casualties/MDC split 7" cuz it felt so thick....must have a zine in it or something. Actually had the JSBX jukebox 45 with the afforementioned songs jammed inside. Glad I wasn't arrested for unknowingly shoplifting...luckily I ended up with one of my new favorite records. What a boon for a 15 year old! Thief with good taste setting you up!
p.s. I've never had a goatee.

Sunday, May 9, 2010

Drawings from 91/92 (trying to be wacky)

Slightly Modified Comic Book


The original owner of this H.R. Pufnstuf was so moved by the cover that had to remark with crayon "Right On! Cool Cat!" I'm into it.

Hollywood Vice Squad



Didn't really like this movie too much, but the Video box art is a SCORCHER! I really hope Carrie Fischer has this hanging above her fireplace. Seeing this kind of visual really makes me wish I had the artistic skill to work in such a manner. I would sit in my house all day making video art work on spec hoping for the return of VHS big boxes.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Farmer Brown with the Cow!

I saw this air once on WLVI 56 in 1987 and it always stuck with me. As I've written elsewhere on the blog, the Farmer Brown spot with the goose was the one that terrified me for some unknown reason. The spot with the horse is the version I previously found on youtube.
So...here's another piece of the puzzle!

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

I'm hemmorhaging desire...

oh god.....I want, I want.....


from the 1981 TSR products catalog.

This is me trying to get better...maybe 91/92?

wanted to be a cartoonist...too bad this is as "good" as I ever got.

Drawings from 1990 pt. 2: the videogame

This is what I did when I was 11 instead of playing sports...pretending to design videogames.
Level 1

Level 2

Level 3

Level 4

I draw almost exactly the same stuff....from 1990