FFEJWORLD:

If you check the comments section below, you’ll see oakey make the claim i have mellowed.

melllow? Do i look like fucking Jackson Browne to you? Then why you treating me like a Jackson Browne? I’ll show you Jackson Browne, i’ll Jackson Browne your ass into next month!

Bullshit to that.

In keeping with my normal behaviour patterns, y’all can take your screwy gentile new year and shove it. Sideways. We don’t do mellow, except for the mellow after glow you get from a nuke strike.

happy new year everyone.

may this year be better then the last, may it be a healthy, happy one for you and yours, may the winds of change blow nothing but goodness in your direction, and may all your wishes come true. and here’s to the constitution rapers and the rest of the new aristocracy of privelige geting what they deserve (ebola comes to mind, or sodomization by a blowtorch, leprosy, being subjected to live fire tests by the us navy [depleted uranium for everyone!] or being forced to work at mcdonalds for the rest of their natural lives.)

as it is written in the book of Elvis, in the second book, that of coversongs, verily, “what’s so bad about Peace, Love, and Understanding?”

see, things could be worse. no repeats.

see you manana or next year.

the cops in portland, are in my opinion tied for the nation’s worse with seattle, just turn to your local fox channel and watch COPS for a few episodes that make mine own run ins with chicago pigs look like laurel and hardy. they busted one of their own, based on rummaging through her trash. then they got all pissy when they got trashed (the technical term) by local reporters. story.

jerry will correct me, but i’m sure that trashing is legal, not just in illinois or oregon. i vaguely remember bob dylan taking his case to the federal level, and the guy who trashed him still is out there teaching the course (this was a long time ago, the wrote a book, and teaches a course in trashing celebraties.) also note, that the portland pigs do trash sweeps regularly. wonder how they decide who to trash?

“it can’t happen here!”–FZ, 1965.
Continue reading ‘poindextering portland’

some electronic music links. the sidebar entry really got me going. i used to love geeking on this stuff, and last night while updating the sidebar, i discovered that a few sites had been massivly updated since last i was there. in case it wasn’t obvious, i’m a Wendy Carlos fan. As a kid, I listened to more classical then i currently do, mostly Bach, and her Switched On Bach (lovingly refered to as SOB) in 1968 made me into a an electronic music freak. right then and there i decided to get a Moog, which was synonymous with synth. (i eventually did get a Moog, although not one of the best, nor one that Bob had designed–by the late 80’s i had quite a pile of synths, and had done some incrediably bad music with them, just ask Ben) i even bought a lot of the copycat and knock off albums. i used to own her rarer LP’s (By Request, Sonic Seasonings, and her edition of The Clockwork Orange, which was much better then the movie soundtrack.) i considered her Secrets of Synthesis and Beauty In the Beast to be masterpieces, and played them incessently. like smoking pot leads to shooting smack, her music lead me to Zappa, Fripp, Eno, Yes, Genesis (way before phill collins was even in the band), ELP (hey, it had synths) kraftwerk, Pink Floyd, Can, Soft Machine* etc, etc**. Well into the 80’s i’d listen to anything that had synths, just because it had synths, at least once.

Wendy Carlos’ homepage. Nuff Said.

Moog Music rhymes with vogue. after years of operating under the Big Briar name, Bob Moog has taken his name back. He’s selling some killer FX pedals, Theremin, and a new Minimoog (one of those if i won the lottery buys.) (actually a lowpass filter, a phaser, the ring mod and the controller coupled with a shit single oscillator analog or a cheap used Casio would be a killer Mini subsitute, very similar to what i did for Katherine’s show 2 years ago.)

Raymond Scott. Carl Stalling made his music familar to you by dropping it into almost every warner brother cartoon from the 40’s on, and ren and stimpy too. here’s a homage site to the man that built synths in the 40’s, invented the sequencer, and released 3 albums of electronic ambient music in the early 60’s.

Audities. a synth museum with synths you can use.

Synth museum. A website of vintage/current synths.

EMS. i lost a Synthi Aks in the eviction. Eno owned one too. *sigh* at least they’re back in biz…the legendary Dr. Who/BBC Radiophonic Workshop and Gong sound, and the synth on Pink Floyd’s Dark Side Of the Moon. generally considered the *ugliest* sounding synth ever made. mine host used to beg me to turn it off, and this during a time when he was championing ugly music. the british synths were like british cars, as soon as you bought them, you had to fix them, and mine was no exception. the keyboard was DOA, and i was never able to get it working. links found on the official Gong site include articles on how to mod them, and include the quote from the original designer “no one should record one before modding it, and no one should ever go on stage with one un unmodded.”
Continue reading ‘get synth in your soul’

merry cheezwiz, you silly gentiles. i designed a lovely seasonal image for the blog, but decided against it. no use aiding and abetting in your cornball religious rites.

untill the wish list goes live manana

mine host is finally off on his celebratory expedition amidst much mumbling that he can’t adhere to schedules and he can’t stand wrapping gifts. he did manage to turn a cd case into an octohedyron, which was pretty cool. and somewhere in there i got a pair of black shoes for interviews. and we split a pizza. unfortunently i had to also put up with his making the tv set into a UPS truck monitoring device, with the aid of a nasty little b&w security camera. and ofcourse the package didn’t come, having accidently been sent ground instead of second day. so his sig.other is without her primo gift. and i had to stay off the computer all day while a million phone calls were made. and ofcourse the water cut out because they fixed it yesterday.

but it’s a small price to pay for some peace and quiet. i’m going to spend my last 3 bucks over at the dunkin donuts, hanging with the hindus, and catching up on my essays.
Continue reading ’seasonal diatribes’

john unger

BANDWIDTH!

roasted duck

quiche

cakes and cookies and brownies and flan and all home made including

black walnut german choclate cake from the verplank walnut grove

stuffed poblamo peppers

dips and hummus

the best port i ever had

the list goes on and on

and of course, chris and neil, our gracious hosts.

those of you you said you were going to show and didn’t, well, you missed a wonderfull party. i’m sure what ever you did was better.

NOT.

i just staggered in and had to post.

Thanks again to Neil and Chris.

will update later. wanna get some sleep. oh lookee, the sun. happy solstice

UPDATE:

so i updated unger’s iBook, spent all night trying to figure out why word wouldn’t start in OS X, finally found the corrupted font that was the cause (fonts aren’t my strong point.) if you aren’t into computers, food, or booze, there was babes and hunks a plenty, and even an annoying art institute prodigy. and a baby. and finnegan the wonder dog. tim got asked to a cabaret, in leather. john made use of the goth chick line. i was asked if i was croation. and if i would like to be albanian (the answer to both was no–i’m an Ewe who’s family came here from leftvia, rustia, the ucranium, reallameia, and beltchium–this makes me one of chicago’s few Phlegmish Ewes.) and at 5am neil and chris finally had enough, and threw us out. which led to the 6am belmont & clark. church lady conversation. just the usual bucktoothed church lady on the way to work in evanston. i made a disparaging remark about evanston, and she went to the oh no, it’s nice and lovely up there routine. i didn’t want to say anything about the running dog lackies of the oppressor class, since she had just driven her car from the far south west side, found parking, caught the halsted buss at chicago to catch the clark buss at belmont and ride that all the way to work. “oh no, she says. evanston is nice. now you take this neighborhood. this neighboorhood is full of faggots.”

listen to the sound of my jaw dropping. before i could interject the usual some of my best friends are routine, she’s off about even though they don’t bother anyone, and even though they look really silly, they are a crime against man and god, lead to higher crime, promote liver disease, etc etc etc.

it’s 5:55am at clark and belmont. while she’s been talking, i’ve been turning around, looking this and that, obstensibly for the buss. the only things moving at the intersection are us, and two old female hookers trying to catch a cab kitty corner across the street. eventually, the church lady notices my glances, does a full 360, and says to me, “hummm, don’t seem to be any around this morning. they must all be inside, you know they don’t like the cold…” and off she went.

at 6:10 a buss finally pulled up.
Continue reading ’solstice to remember’