Saturday, October 15, 2005

"no one gave it to you but you can give it away" - Google Search

The circumstance is the worst expression of horror and chaos. You think, you feel this is real but it is so surreal. And yet here you are. But what do you do with it is the reality, what do you do now is the canvas, how you are human in the most inhumane . . . circumstance."no one gave it to you but you can give it away"

Sunday, September 11, 2005

BAC victory concert, Worcester 05

Well, I now have my Flickr site set up. And I mounted a pop filter on a mic stand this morning. And I thought and remembered and sighed many times. What a beautiful morning here today.

Wednesday, March 23, 2005

You're In Therapy

Thanks to Google, I was made aware that yesterday was World Water Day.

I started drinking tons 'o water around '83 when I was training to run my first Bay To Breakers. Since then I keep a giant tumbler at my desk and drink water all day. I am rarely sick.

I almost never drink coffee but I do like the occasional Coke and Monsters . By the by the way, I bought the Coke product Full Throttle; horrible bat urine tasting crap.

So have a nice fresh drink of tap water (Penn & Teller had a classic "Bullshit" episode last week about bottled water hype) today cuz most of the world does not have good water.

This lead to my posting to my beloved Q3 clan The Mac House of AssWhip. Then the Benster posted how he was reading about the water situation on the international space station. Which then lead the discussion to the consumption of one’s own urine. The latest media frenzy is, to me, yet another example of our ongoing glacial evolution. What a prudish, retarded, hypocritical lot we are, driven like frightened equestria into the burning barns of our own dark fears. In many places on this round world, urine is consumed. It is bacteria free and clean. Have I drunk mine own? No. Would I? Prolly. The smarter we get the dumber stuff we do.

So, packing water, my son's venerable dinosaur top sheet and nail clippers, I made my way to my Haverhill studio. I had a little more than an hour and a half before I would need to depart for rehearsal for St. Mark's Easter music.

In the door, I opened the windows and unpacked my King 3B+. Performing a good iteration of a Claude Gordon Systematic Approach first part, I put the horn down and donned my Puma racing shoes. I then proceeded to crank on my Slingerland five piece and, really, I am playing well these days. I am almost half way through my residency at the River’s Edge studios and I am getting the results I was looking for. Right on the way home from work, I can pop in and practice horn, bass and drums at maximum volume and most aggressive intent.

At the end of April, when I load out and set up back at home, I must eliminate all impediments to recording a three to five song demo. The time has come.

Now, how about a nice, tall, cool glass of urine and butt sweat!

Wednesday, January 12, 2005

Paper footballs

And those little boxes where you draw a picture and it ends up inside, you look in the little hole, what were those . . *runs off* . . sound of googling . . . ah =) And a million paper footballs. Made ‘em outa gum wrappers, it’d put your eye out. And my favorite paper airplane. In Portugal, I was jacked up all morning knowing later I was going to go to the highest place I could find in our hotel and send one out into the plaza. There were many, it was splendiferous, no one seemed to mind.

Folding and creasing in beautiful symmetric ways, as human obsession, are only a little ironic as they lead us to the “holy grail of modern molecular biophysics”. I bet I can make those planes to a very tight mechanical tolerance. I could . . with joy . . make them everyday like a worker in a Chinese sweat shop.

As we inch closer to our density, we come closer to the vanishing point of misuse, arrogance and dogma. Be as a child means ready to distrust and fear, cower or run away as it does to be open and ready for new experience. The elimination of human suffering can only occur with the elimination of other sundry humanities and there will be no chance to choose. But it is this chance, this frighteningly unpredictable circumstance that is the true reason for our being. Why are we here? Irony.

Now, I gotta reset my Linksys access point . . .