FOOTSTEPS INTO THE EXPLODED
05 April 2009
I JUST WOKE UP
19 February 2009
I used to wake, subconscious soup still swirling and spitting, to the information onslaught. Confusing the what might be reality in the machine with the what might also be reality in my dreams, I'd start the typing and reading while the brain and the heart still lingered last night. Without allowing even a few minutes to sit up in bed to reflect on the previous hours of visions, nor even the opportunity to wish for the day, I would reach under the bed, pull up the white Apple with one hand, and wake Snow Princess 2, to launch into...
50 emails that can all "GROW MY MANHOOD", a beeping calendar of projects undone, the ego boost of "how many hits did we get today?" and then the crush when I've realized our server has been hacked and our sites all point to some dick head's "GET THE BEST MALWARE SOFTWARE PROTECTION HERE". Scrubbing the sleep out of my eyes, but nearly not needing to as the tears well up with the blood pressure...
Nope. This morning, I left Snow Princess 2 to blip blip blip her pulsing incandescent. I sat up slowly and said hmm to the dream last night. Erik came to London again. It wasn't planned, he just showed up. He looked at the ground with a bit of a grin and shuffled his feet when we started to pass the facades...
Blip blip blip, I knew she was there, she always is. Light pouring in through unshaded windows, chocolate smell of Americanos, clip clip clip of Jack's hard soled shoes on the tiled grey floor. My unusually slow morning attention turned to the bureau, the one rescued from the alley behind The White Lodge.
In the bureau, not Snow Princess 2 with all of her music and museings, but a pillow book, with all of *her* music and museings.
(softly and a bit cute) "Jack? Will you bring me a pen?"
(gently and funny) "A pin? What kind of pin?"
(enunciating this time) "A pen. On my desk there are a few."
(just funny) "I thought you said pin and was wondering if you are a Kiwi now?"
Through the fabric wall a pen emerged.
"You can't go through the wall!"
"It's not a wall! It's just fabric."
Morning happy still sleepy giggles. Sun still pouring through the unshaded window.
Before the information onslaught, and before the worries of a ridiculous day...
I just woke up.
THE DECREES OF FABLISM / PT. 1
17 December 2008
1. Candy, silk, the wearing of audio headphones, and the drinking of Pepsi is forbidden (Coca Cola is OK).
2. "Hawaiian" deep dish pizza can only be consumed between 3.00 - 5.00pm every third Sunday.
3. Mass gathering for worship occurs at 2pm everyday. And we mean exactly 2pm. Even if one is in midst of operating heavy machinery or dangling from a cliff, worship must commence at 2pm.
4. Worship sessions involve muttering the "16 Sentences of Truth" indiscernably so that no worshipper abreast can understand what you are saying. Worship sessions are followed by an invigorating 15 minute group game of dodgeball.
5. Whomever is struck last with the dodgeball at the end of the 15 minutes must go home later that evening and pray, pray, pray really hard to avoid having his/her flesh burning for eternity in Hell.
6. Homosexuality is forbidden. Any individual practicing homosexuality shall thereforth be draped in a white sheet and painted to match the surrounding scenery and be unseen (this, of course, is difficult if the individual is highly mobile).
7. Materialism and money are looked down upon. But like most religions, money is thrown around and practiced with fervour and modesty is paid by lip service in theory and conversation. In fact, in Fablism, it is decree to say one is not interested in money but then to be striving to make as much of a fortune as possible in practice.
8. All other forms of worship are wrong. They are all idiots.
9. Even when totally proven wrong, such as being called on Fablist belief that rubbing one's skin in acetone makes one look younger and attractive... they are still all idiots.
10. One must sleep in a bed approximately 3/4 the length of the sleeper's actual body length or they will go to Hell.
Note: Fablists are extremely good at dodgeball.
(Inspired by the book "Cat's Cradle" by Kurt Vonnegut).
YOU HIGH OR SOMEDING TANYA?
03 December 2008
"I love youuuu." As she melts into embrace her dear friend Patrick the once flickering star gobos begin to rain hot pinks and oranges, hipsters dancing turn to a sea of the same, the 808 kick thuds in to fill her belly, the melody sweeps so finely, divinity rising. Then snap! They pull apart, seductive deliciousness coursing through veins. Crackle! A data flash and the warehouse roof turns to wide open sky and Pop! They grin and they dance til dawn to the beat of that drum.
DO YOU WEIGH AS MUCH AS A LOLLIPOP?
21 November 2008
A RECAP AND A REWIND
27 October 2008
This is what happens in a giant whirlwind. Running around frantically to find a new place to put your roots, little things left undone and then when you finally have the time to reflect you can enjoy things after they have happened. A weird phenomenon and interesting but something you don't want to continue for a long period of time.
Discovering things in hindsight. Unearthing packets of information on the www have let me to find that the emotive hardcore band, Portraits of Past, have reunited and been playing shows in support of a discography of sorts on Ebullition Records. Finding this out sort of rattled my brain, thinking a lost of music from that era would effected be blanketed in the smoky haze of history. After the demise of that project a majority of the members went on to play in The Audience who then turned into Vue; both of whom I've had the chance to see or share a stage with. I haven't run into them for a while as time and moving around does those sorts of things. It's an interesting statement, the action in itself; having the last 10 plus years of music see that era of hardcore/punk spawn the seeds for the post-punk/indie/dance-punk and have that whole movement co-opted into some sort of strange chariacture of hip mobile phone adverts and Indie MySpace blog of the week profiles. Oh, that's another tangent altogether...
Portraits of Past were a great band and out of that era makes for a group of records I still listen to that can still resonate after all the years. There's some spacial, ethereal quality to the recording of their final LP that was a lot different than the records their contemporaries were putting out (well - there was a sense of space on some of the Hoover and post-Hoover projects as well). The choice of chord structures and guitar interplay makes this record as well. Here's some footage of them at one of their recent "reunion" shows in Berkeley, CA:
Ah, a time when bands were named after American presidents or medical conditions, everyone had a zine, rows of 7"s and 12"s in cardboard boxes at shows in poorly lit community centers, and when HeartattaCk Magazine seemed like it was the most read publication in the underground....
JUST LIKE THE OLDE TIMES
11 October 2008
On a lighter note, here's an automated drawing Tanya and I did a number of weeks ago during an online chat to some friends back home:
