Category: Miscellany

You can’t always

Since the progenitors of humanity first began clinging to one another, forming social bonds and establishing the basis for the clan behavior that defines our species, one simple directive has held true, and this deceptively innocuous sticker sums it up with the succinctness that only the Twitter Generation™ could manage. Truer words have never been spoken; a truer ideal has never been more difficult to attain. Why? Is it because we rarely know what it is that we truly need? Or is it because what we truly need is rare to us? And how often do we realize, too late, that what we truly need is what has just slipped through our fingers? Are we too busy or distracted with those aspects of our lives that we have endowed with an unworthy importance, and thus miss those things truly are important; or was Cinderella right and you really Don’t Know What You’ve Got (Till It’s Gone)?


I am all of the above. Sometimes all at once. It is during those moments, when the stars have aligned and imbued me with the unstoppable power of a juggernaut, that feel the most dangerous. Fortunately those moments are few enough and far enough apart to prevent me from wreaking any significant havoc.*


Sent to me from Philly by my favorite classy sassy lady. This is my kind of incidental art. Not only does it make no sense, whatsoever, it reflects the kind of graffiti I would create if I could be arsed to sneak around the city in the middle of the night with a bag of spray paint cans. Viva la (business casual) revolution!


Taken in a scrap yard during my recent trip to Virginia. I think it pretty much speaks for itself, and its awesomeness is self-evident. Humbly, I bow to thee, graffiti skull…


The link to this from Google had been clicked before, so I hope I’m not repeating myself (heaven forbid!), but this should be required listening. For that reason alone, I forgive myself any transgressions or faux pas committed by repeating content.

Until then, etc. etc.

*I swear the X-Men character references in this paragraph were completely unintentional. (dirty) Pinky swear.

Still cowering to KOMPRESSOR might

I really needn’t belabor this subject, but that it seems to upset the anarchists when “yuppies” such as myself* blog about their activities. I can’t, in good faith, ignore the opportunity to sprinkle sand in their collective vagina.


Burn it ALL down. Starting with this person’s house. The wise revolutionary will tell you not to riot in your own neighborhood, but when you lack any manner of discrimination, as this tag would suggest, then why not start at home. You’ll prove your point that way. At least, I won’t doubt your resolve…


Hrm. This sounds less like anarchy and more like moral nihilism. Or lyrics from a Black Flag song.


Alright. Enough is enough. I feel like this one might be the flyer that most supports my theory that this movement is perpetuated by disaffected teenagers. “Fuck the high schools”? I mean, sure, most people hate high school, but is it really worth angry graffiti? “Snuff your landlord”? Then who’s going to replace your stove when it goes out, or fix the toilet? “You wonder why we burn the cities down” Actually… Wait. What? Which cities did you burn down? Are you O’Leary’s cow? The least you could do, if you’re going to espouse such boldness, is not hide behind turtlenecks and bandannas. Anonymous anger is impotent anger.


The most ridiculous thing I saw all day. Part of me is pretty jealous of how this instrument is awesome to the max.

Caveat emptor, revolutionary motherfuckers.

* Yes, I laughed pretty hard when I read the comment that alludes to my being a yuppie. If only…

Easy like Sunday morning coming down

Okay. Technically it’s now Sunday afternoon, but I doubt any of you are following closely enough to spot the discrepancy, so I’m rolling with that title.

I was going to upload pictures of the Mitten Foot and the Noise Scout prototype, but the pictures that I took ended up way too dark and underexposed. I’ll have to try again once I make up the first batch of CDs. I have decided, for the sake of maintaining a manageable workload on the project, to make the physical release a limited run of 20 copies. I doubt I will waste the time and effort putting up a purchase page, based on the phenomenal performance of my previous CD releases (read: abysmal). Instead, I think I’m just going to make up the batch and then hand them out to people I feel will appreciate them.

It’s been weeks now that I’ve been idly promising to disseminate recommendations from the copious amount of new music I’ve ingested so far this year. I suppose the time is nigh to make good on this threat promise.


First up is Go Chic, a punky Taiwanese rock band. Self-described as “electric riot band in Taiwan” and “Electro-Hyphy-Chicks, Hybridized Punk-Blues-Rock”, this track is from their debut album and reminds me of Elastica – in a good way. Worth keeping an eye/ear on these ladies.


Given my predilection for every band whose memory this track evokes, I was shocked that I had never heard of these guys until very recently. Musically there are better tracks on the album from which this song is culled, but the random screamed nautical terms have sought to endear this song to me in ways that defy explanation.


In the same vein as the preceding track, this is another band that slipped through the cracks of my aggro youth. Given the use of electronics and effects, this would have given 16 year old John Ingram priapism. Painful, glorious, irreversible horn.


I want to say that I’ve posted this before, but I can’t find it. This video and performance aren’t as good as the official video and the studio recording, but the only copy of that I can find on YouTube has embedding disabled. The video is really cool, though, in a post-apocalyptic wasteland kinda way.


This isn’t a new find for me, but I revisited the album earlier this year and have become absolutely addicted to it. This opening track has become a perpetual earworm, ushering in every new day with its lulling harmonies and flawless falsetto. There are some weak moments on this album, but it’s far more solid than one could expect from a debut release.


I’m not a big fan of Jack White, but this was a pretty good album.

My brain is turning to mush from all this attempted processing. More coming soon.

You’ve been warned.

Budding.

I’m sad. More accurately, I’m SAD. The last few days of sunshine have been sufficient to coax from hiding the anxious buds of leaves and blooms speckling tree branches across the city, thus ushering in my least favorite of seasons: Spring. With heavy heart and much sorrow I feel the blessed glory of brisk winter air slowly give way to the sweltering warmth, and I affix this brittle affectation, this stiff upper lip, as I steel myself against the coming gloom of four months of blinding, oppressive sun and heat. The soul-enriching gray is soon replaced by an endless, horrifying sea of too much green and too much blue. If it is I you seek, you will find me hunkered in the shade, longing for Autumn.

New Controlled Dissonance album is complete. I finished the prototype last night, verifying proof of concept, and delivered it to its promised recipient. I’ll upload some pictures of the product later. I’m still toying with the idea of a remix single to release electronically alongside the physical CD, so if any of you are interested in remixing a track, “hit me up” – to quote the vernacular.

I’m currently passing idle time at work by running through the first season of Farscape. I remember when it debuted on SciFi Channel, but soon thereafter I entered into a period of about two and a half years without television, so I never got the opportunity to follow the show during its run. It’s not a bad show. I like Ben Browder, and although Claudia Black can be annoying, she’s low key enough in this role to be acceptable. There’s no apparent story arch yet (besides the conflict which defines the series), so it has become very serial. This makes it easy to liken the series to Stargate SG1, and the comparisons seem pretty accurate. Both are relatively light and focus on a small core of individuals. It’s become a good way to pass time.

I’m also catching up on the latest season of Chuck. I’m on the fence. I hope they bring Timothy Dalton back, but I can’t abide by the terrifyingly blatant product placement in the last few episodes. I hope that the writers don’t feel like they’re being clever or witty, because it is not. Not at all.

Smells like burning in my office. Time to bail.

Bedroom Dancing

It’s been a strange, Cabernet Sauvignon-influenced weekend. The audio for the new Controlled Dissonance album is mastered and ready. I have one last graphic to invoke to complete the packaging artwork (though I’m going to be a few days until I have the disposable cash to invest in a few new paper products to see everything to fruition), and then the prototype will be finished. What may turn out to be the most notable feature of this release is not the release itself, but the potential sticker graffiti ideas spawned of it. I’m already perusing the Sticker Guy website and calculating how I can divert funds from my general survival to facilitate one such venture. Oh, the mistakes I’m going to make tonight…

The last few days have had me dreaming, tasting and smelling cigarettes. Fuck, the life of an addict denying their vice is fraught with temptation. I’m currently engaged in a fine act of balance. On one side are the health benefits of being smoke and nicotine free. On the other side are the emotional benefits of being weak and easily assuaged by chemical addictions. My brain says “John, in the long run, you will appreciate the benefits of a smoke-free lifestyle.” While my body says “Oh, for fuck’s sake. It’s not like you’re going to live forever. Just have a smoke and a smile, and tell your brain to shut the fuck up.”

Bastards. If only I could divest myself of them both. *sigh*

Until then, etc. etc.