Crazy week.

• RIP MCA

  I was feeling pretty good when this came out of nowhere. We knew he was sick and all but wow. Ruined that whole day, I just had to lay down for while. Would be a great excuse to kill a six-pick or two but I just took a nap instead. Seriously have no friends right now, but occasionally my health concerns are vindicated in the most depressing of ways. I’m talking like I knew him personally when I never met him, (saw them at Lollapalooza) but he was a guy you felt like you knew. Some people are getting nostalgic over the early stuff…I always thought it was garbage, it’s a joke. Got into them with Check Your Head and those next few albums after that were huge for me, I thought they really did great stuff musically and actually had a message but had a sense of humor about everything. I eventually went back to Paul’s Boutique, and the recent stuff was still good, but it was mostly about Check Your Head, Ill Communication and Hello Nasty for me. Haven’t pulled any of them out yet, it just feels like a bummer. There’s nothing sad about their music and I don’t feel like twisting it around to fit the mood now.

• Acid Mother’s Temple@Johnny Brenda’s

  Should have it’s own post but I didn’t get to work on it. Got some pics I haven’t even looked at yet. Need to get the flickr back in order. Yeah, I don’t have time to sum it up now, so that will be a post this next week.

• UBUWEB

  I didn’t get to any of these movie links this week but I couple things I did get to that have cheered me up a bit. One was these Henry Miller interviews. Besides the content, which although I am linking to them are not my exact thoughts, the way he interjects so much with “do you see?” “don’t you know?” are really like Japanese “ne”s in a way. (They’re good alternative translations for it, or other interjections.) The other is this Radio Web Macba post which is a great intro to the high weirdness of Ubu, including the classic Cake and what should be mandatory listening for all art students The Man Within. Be sure to get the PDF liner notes, but the tracklisting is out of order:

  00:00 Benjamino Gigi
  03:45 1-100
  09:52 Diddlage
  10:26 Edges
  16:54 Diddlage (reprise)
  17:27 Bubble Blower
  22:40 I Really Should
  27:37 I’m Not In a Hurry
  30:34 Missing Dog
  33:25 Why Am I Always So Depressed?
  34:55 The Mud Kids
  38:42 The Man Within
  57:04 Sometimes When I’m Low
  58:06 Cake
  59:00 Lend Me Your Ears
  59:52 The Sonance Project

  Also Charles Bernstein’s 1-100 might have inspired the crazy counting guy from this Tofugu post on Japanese comedians:
  

• Free Music Archive

  Have to talk to some people if I should even apply for the job or not. Even thinking about the possibility is some major lifechange shit. Have been planning to get back into podcasting with some FMA stuff anyway. I’m going to be doing something with it whatever my employment status.

• Being a dick

  Yes, I’m being a dick when I talk about certain past blog stuff. But I think I’m being too nice in some respects. There’s some creepy shit out there and you can’t really parody it while you’re part of it at the same time. But almost on another topic, it’s kinda bullshit to delete whole blogs about bands with almost no other write-ups in English.

• Decibel Tour

  Leaving write now to see Nergal of Behemoth, who has recently beaten cancer, and crew. Can’t think of a moral there, but that’s life. I’ll end with this clip of Brad Warner’s Hardcore Zen audiobook:
  

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Starting a standard format for weekly meta posts. My reading and study backlog is getting under control now and nothing crazy is going on so I’m going to write more again. Obviously I spare to one meta post a week, but if they start piling up I’m going to feel like a real asshole with no clever title or anything, a blog full of excuses, a house of lies, a Beckett play with NO AUDIENCE. “Oh, look at me in the depths of existential angst with this audience of thousands and critical acclaim, respect from my fellow artists.” Sure, bub. I guess you’re bleak. Lo, but it is I who blog the blart of darkness. None have obscured their toil in more frosty a blackness; it is like unto the proverbial liquorice milkshake, inside the proverbial broken refrigerator at the bottom of the proverbial dead sea, inside the proverbial overlong sentence inside the proverbial blog no one reads. Ugh! That’s rough. Is it even possible to go on?
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Started this post on 4/20. Had some stuff to say. Then I got hung up on the title. There’s a thing in WordPress (there it is) where it automatically capitalizes the WP so the spelling is “on brand” I guess is how they would say it. No big deal, but this is Hitler’s bday. I am not a fan, and don’t like to make any hints otherwise. Of course, if you have not read much anti-fascist literature (or websites) you may not be hip to the common abbreviation of “White Power”. I’m following people on twitter who use WP for “West Philly”. They are not Nazis(, Mom). But I would never use it for anything. WordPress for is always one word, no big P. Outside of WordPress that is.

Also this logo is not an endorsement of the terrible president, mediocre Wu-Tang album or absolutely wonderful Hello Project unit...or maybe it is. I do not work for the company.

I should mention at this time I was not high. That’s my totally sober thinking process. You can see how weed doesn’t really work that great for me. Haven’t touched the stuff in years, or any stuff, which basically means avoiding all friends. I am in favor of full legalization, not so I use it, but so I can not feel the need to prove I’m down with law-breaking. It would become a super-corporate branded product overnight and lose all coolness. You’d no longer need to know a guy to score, you’d just hit up 7-11. The same people would do it, but would have to be the ones making the lame excuse for engaging in such uncool behavior and then I guess would try to get you to snort bath salts or cat litter or whatever. (“Dude, I can’t snort this litter by myself, I’d feel like some kind of loser.”) Not against it, I’m just saying.

All that stuff is nothing like drinking, obvs. Oh shit, it’s also nothing like blogging. Total thinking out loud moment. See, I was going to try to pressure more peeps onto WordPress. Most of you/my blog buddies of the past used to use livejournal or Blogger, and now use Tumblr, Twitter, or gave up and just use Facebook. I use the downloaded platform WordPress on my own server, which is admittedly, a bit much. But normal people can use wordpress.com and the whole thing is free and easy as stolen cat litter. I used to say it was for more ~advanced~ internetters, but they make the interface easier every time they update the thing. Yeah, some people use Tumblr just like lj. Most don’t. Nobody cares about pics of your lunch, man. How are you doing? Some of that lj oversharing could get gross and we got over that, but c’mon…a lot of people I new used to write every damn day, like, paragraphs! Twitter is cool, but remember paragraphs not being a special occasion? It wasn’t that long ago. Message board people—where did some of these people go? Some of the best stuff I’ve read online is from people who never had a blog, some went straight into freelancing I guess. That would be the smart option. But some of you have got to be like me: really smart, and yet on another level really, really dumb. Wait, that’s not very convincing. I’m being an asshole again aren’t I. Mostly to myself this time, too. I am the worst. Join me?

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The Philadelphia Art Museum has an ongoing concert series call Art After 5
. I’ve never gone to it. I love the Art Museum but I usually go on Sundays when it’s free. Usually because I’m broke but also because it’s like church to me. It’s the only place I get those churchy feelings since before I figured they were making all that up shit up. Let’s not get too heavy into it.

But it’s also the anniversary of the Japan’s 3/11 disaster (already yesterday there), and the Japan Society donation box over on the right is not going anywhere. One of their members recorded their moment of silence this afternoon:

A moment of silence for Tohoku 3/11 at Japan Society by suteebu

There’s nothing else I can say about it.

The museum did not have a moment of silence. It was the day before. That would be a bit much, wouldn’t it? They had a rock show to put on. (It was creepily silent in the rest of the museum I wondered off in after the show, never seen it so empty.) I came in halfway during the first set and the modest setup thundered through the entire lobby of the west entrance. The front hall where they performed is marble floor-to-ceiling and that ceiling is 100-foot high. (I’m guessing.) It’s not the ideal place for a rock band. There were some mic feedback issues but overall the sound was nothing as bad as say, the cheap seats at Madison Square Garden. Here is my watercolor impression of the band from the marble staircase/bleacher seating:

I’ve been trying to not pressure myself into carrying around a real camera again, but that is obviously bullshit. I’m just being lazy now. See that glitch in there? Happens all the time now to some degree when I send something to flicker or email. Sometimes the result is interesting. Here it isn’t. And the lens is obviously wacked. Whatever, you get the idea. It’s a weird setup. You got some tables on the sides too, they had like, art food: wine, hors d’oeuvres, etc. As a former art student I am a great lover of art food, when free. Here it was not. I did without.

Now you might be thinking, this is all pretty Not Punk Rock. No…if you think Punk is a list of should and shouldn’ts, I guess not. None of my various contradictory sensibilities were offended. I think punk is about reality and the reality is that hall is an alternative venue. And I think the Museum is a place for any kind of work which you mentally have to put in it’s own context. That said, the people who insisted on getting served while in the bleacher seats where a bit distracting. I’m strictly a cafeteria-eater at this place. I can’t get into the upper-class aspect of it. (Literally.) Even waiters seem like a class above me. Sometimes I think, one day that could me…a waiter. Damn. It is but a dream, and I remain…a fool. What?

I got up closer for the encore, but I don’t know what I was thinking with this overglaze. Did I mention a kid was dancing up front the whole time so they let him play maracas? That happened. It was him and then a hippie grandmother and then maybe some secretaries? That’s probably wrong, but they were some professionally attired middle-aged women in there too on the dance floor for the last couple numbers. Then a fight broke out, the curtains were lit on fire, and they smashed the Archer statue with their guitars, rode it down the steps and straight out the front door, marble chunks flying everywhere. Nah, that last part didn’t happen. That’d make the news.

Someone from Philly’s Japan American Society posted this video on twitter:

I’m in the shot somewhere. Big time fame. %

Had a dream last night I was in the mob. I was the driver for a hitman. Dropping him off at the mall, he told me to be in the the exact spot in exactly 42 minutes. I said no problem, went home and took a nap. (I don’t think I’ve ever gone to sleep and woken up in a dream before.) It was 10:45 at night. I was on my way out the door when the dream ended. This could still work out. He’ll understand I’m just not that punctual, right? What time was it when I dropped him off anyway? The mall’s only 15 minutes away. It’ll be cool.

Another related dream had me as the hitman having shot a girl. I didn’t shoot her in the dream, it had already happened. The problem was, she lived so she moved in with me. It was an understandably tense living situation, especially since I hadn’t figured out if she was really that tough to survive or if she was really a zombie. We decided to make out. Zombies are not known to trick people into making out with them before killing them but it still seemed like a possibility. Yet, it was a risk I was willing to take. I woke up.

One day I was driving with my father. There was a car show nearby or something, so we’re riding down the turnpike or wherever and there’s suddenly classic cars all over the road. My father can name the make and model year of almost any car. “Wow, a ’59 Ford! A ’69 Chevy! What’s that…a ’77…uh…what year were you born?”

So…my sister had a kid last week. Her second but the the first boy. I’m not going to be blogging family news and issues but I feel like if this blog sticks around (it exists mostly to get me to stick with something) when this kid gets old enough to read it, that it doesn’t seem like the event of his birth is trivial compared to details about artifacts of pop culture. Happy birthday, Owen.

A record review blog would be a great distraction for someone with a boringly stable, well-figured out life. It’s a running joke that I never get to it but it really can’t be a priority. This is the thing with the photography too. I kinda hate saying that I gave up getting better at it. I really had a passion for it for a long time, it seemed like my thing. But it’s everyone’s thing now. I used to shoot multiple rolls of film a week. There’s nothing special about shooting a lot now, it costs nothing. It’s like having a lot of records. Just having a collection was used to be a thing. Everyone has a great collection now. You’ve got to do something extra. It sucks, but I’m not having kids. I gotta do something. I’m not one of these people that thinks they’re special and that everything they do is great. I need to be the best at something. It’s not at simple as that, but…oh shit maybe it is as simple as that. Yeah, I guess that’s that. Time to sweep some floors. %