May 31, 2005
CAPTAIN FANTASTIC
Happy 186th Birthday to Walt Whitman!
...a whitman sampler...
Give me the splendid silent sun with all his beams full-dazzling.
If any thing is sacred the human body is sacred.
Nothing endures but personal qualities.
The habit of giving only enhances the desire to give.
The poet judges not as a judge judges but as the sun falling around a helpless thing.
Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)
I celebrate myself, and sing myself.
Now I see the secret of the making of the best persons. It is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth.
I SING the Body electric;
The armies of those I love engirth me, and I engirth them;
They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,
And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the Soul.
A million people—manners free and superb—open voices—hospitality—the most courageous and friendly young men;
The free city! no slaves! no owners of slaves!
The beautiful city, the city of hurried and sparkling waters! the city of spires and masts!
The city nested in bays! my city!
ONE song, America, before I go,
I’d sing, o’er all the rest, with trumpet sound,
For thee—the Future.
I’d sow a seed for thee of endless Nationality;
I’d fashion thy Ensemble, including Body and Soul;
I’d show, away ahead, thy real Union, and how it may be accomplish’d.
(The paths to the House I seek to make,
But leave to those to come, the House itself.)
Belief I sing—and Preparation;
As Life and Nature are not great with reference to the Present only,
But greater still from what is yet to come,
Out of that formula for Thee I sing.
______________________________________________
I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber,
poking among the meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery
boys.
I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the
pork chops? What price bananas? Are you my Angel?
I wandered in and out of the brilliant stacks of cans
following you, and followed in my imagination by the store
detective.
We strode down the open corridors together in our
solitary fancy tasting artichokes, possessing every frozen
delicacy, and never passing the cashier.
Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors close in
an hour. Which way does your beard point tonight?...
— from "A Supermarket in California," by Allen Ginsberg
...
May 30, 2005
THE SOUND OF MUSIC
...a shot of me, Saturday, late afternoon...
well, it finally happened. after waiting for one guy to switch back to a mon-fri schedule, and waiting for the other guy to finish the promotional tour for a film that he produced/directed, we finally got together and jammed....in my studio, under my own roof, with a simple guitar-bass-drum setup, no vox, just improvisation...and not once did we resort to either of the two major sinkpits of the modern jam session: "Thank You (Falettin Me Be Mice Elf Agin)" ...not the great sly & the family stone song, just the bass line and whacka-whacka 70s porno strum, over and over; "blues in E/A/D/G" (take your pick)....I'm a big lover of the blues and blues playing, and we did do something in the key of A that was blues-based...but no, what I'm talking about is the slow plodding blues thing with no interest turnaround, no cool substitutions, no dynamic rise and fall...but none of that occurred. there was no discussion, not much conversation whatsoever...just shut up and play. bliss. this was a good day.
and oh yes, I recorded everything...
...
May 27, 2005
BLOWIN' IN THE WIND
Arlington National Cemetery:
Memorial at Gettysburgh Cemetery:
WWI Memorial at Richmond, Virginia:
The Vietnam Memorial, Washington DC:
The American Cemetery at Normandy:
...
May 26, 2005
I COULD WRITE A BOOK
STILL, the only Bo that matters...
Random thoughts….
Carrie Underwood crowned “American Idol”….yawn. I like the show. It allows me to focus my unstinting musical obsessiveness on some unwitting youngsters who are forced to sing utter tripe and convince a nation of teeny boppers that they’re mo’ better than the others. I’m not crazy about the number of bona fide crazies they programmed into the “auditions” phase of this year’s competition, but on the whole, it’s bit of programming that I count amongst my occasional guilty pleasures….And Ms. Underwood, whom I applaud for winning, is the perfect “Idol” for our times—I predict that, in addition to the numerous ball parks where she will be providing her down-home renditions of the Star Spangled Banner and God Bless America, she will be a featured guest performer at the next Republican National Convention. Why? Because she is the perfect 1950s-style, right-white, heartland/faux country blondebot that Karl Rove imagines when he churns his nightly fantasy wheels of demographic conquest (after all, she got more votes in her election than George W. got in his). Completely bereft of soul, perfectly adequate and unflinchingly ordinary, her marketing potential is huge—a Jessica Simpson for the gun rack crowd. And Bo Bice, as much as some might have rooted for his old-fashioned southern rocker persona (and throaty baritone), has, over the past six weeks, been whiskering himself out of contention, by grooming himself for the second coming of Molly Hatchett. A bit of tardy advice for Bo: if you want to get the teenage girls of America to identify with you and vote, then by all means, shave. However, since Clive Davis says he wants to produce Bo's first album, one should not be burdened with any worry for this young man’s immediate future…and given Paula Abdul’s loud lobbying on his behalf, one might expect that a lively rendition of “Mrs. Robinson” might merit inclusion somewhere in the running order…
Zarqawi is wounded. They say he’s been shot, taken to another country. Who is this guy, and why should I believe that he actually exists? You get better character development from a Tom Clancy novel. We get it: he’s the bad guy. Here’s the thing—the people we’re supposed to be helping don’t have electricity or clean drinking water. Halliburton’s invoices keep getting paid. So why should I care about, or even believe in, some imaginary villain?
They’ve indicted the “runaway bride.” Great. A fine allocation of crime-fighting dollars. But I digress—anyone think she’ll ever see the inside of a cell? Doubtful. What I find hilarious is the doofus whom she ran out on, still wants to stand by her and get married. This lugnut is one of those “save myself for marriage” types, but apparently Miss Jessica has been bonking every biped with a motorcycle license that crosses her primrose path. But don’t fret, Billy Bob, Dr. Phil is on his way…note to Jessie--if you can get a weekend pass, it's fleet week up here in NYC...
Stem cell research—OK for some House Repub’s, but still too science-y for the Boy King…Bolton will soon be confirmed and immediately declare war on North Korea…meanwhile, those same creationists who have succeeded in removing evolution from the curriculum of U.S. high schools are now moving to delete the word ‘filibuster’ from history textbooks…
heh heh, betcha thought I was done bitching about politics...sorry. it builds up over time, and any diatribe I put here is peanuts compared to the relative absurdity of a journalist corp that treats the Michael Jackson trial with airtime befitting that of something with national significance, while allegations mount that our country is engaged in a coordinated program of torture and abuse. Big ups to Bill Maher for being labelled a traitor by some nitwit congressman...I saw the show and happen to agree with what he said (in this instance anyway). So I guess we're all imaginary bad guys...so sing us a song Carrie, make it all fade away....
...
p.s. anyone see that Derek Jeter catch yesterday? unbe-fucking-lievable...
~
May 25, 2005
THAT'S THE STORY OF MY LIFE
"It's strange. You never start out life with the intention of becoming a bankrupt or an alcoholic or a cheat and a thief. Or a liar." -- Raymond Carver
Strange indeed. Today would have been the 67th birthday of Raymond Carver, one of my all-time favorite writers, and probably my very favorite 20th century writer. And in addition to his books and poetry, his life itself was instructional--born into an environment of poverty and alcoholism, his talent helped him to make something of a living with his books and teaching, though he was a heavy drinker throughout. So when a doctor gave him six months to live at age 40, he quit drinking altogether and began his "second life," only to be cut down by lung cancer at age 50. He had some renewed popularity from the Robert Altman film "Short Cuts" (based on a medley of his stories--Altman cleverly wove them into an interlocking narrative) but his great gift was his short stories. I'm also a big fan of the collection of his poetry (compiled by his widow, poet Tess Gallagher) called "All of Us." I recommend his work to anyone who can read printed English.
The last lines he wrote (as usual, perfectly, simply phrased, and straight to the point):
And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.
...
May 24, 2005
RAINDROPS KEEP FALLING ON MY HEAD
...why do they hate us? hmmm, beats me....
The premise: a fat Caucasian wearing green pants swings an expensive metal stick at a small white ball in the hopes of making it land in a tiny hole 400 yards away. It begins to rain.
Two possible reactions: A. he brought a servant with him to hold his gigantic golf umbrella over his head so he can continue to peck away at the tiny ball; or, B. he asks one of the others in his party to hold it for him. The latter is looked down upon in the world of golf. In this world, as in 18th century England, or medieval China, or the Bush family, servants are a sign of status, and the more demeaning the tasks assigned to them (for example, washing their master’s balls), the better. And if it's possible to arrange for a team of servants, then you're really playing some golf.
So, this pasty peckerwood with an action news haircut is walking around this manicured space, its stifling of nature a tableau of abortion, while his retinue of sycophantic servants bend and scrape in his wake, in the hope that a shiny copper penny might fall from his pockets undetected. He finishes with his exertions, at last, and plods back to the clubhouse, where he is greeted by other fat Caucasians who celebrate their shared obesity by clinging to cocktail glasses, slapping each other on the back, and hiding from their leather-skinned wives, who are perched like raptors on white lounge chairs, shaded from the world by hedges and jacketed brown servants, discussing real estate and their continued pleasure at having inherited, or married into, great wealth. But those checks to the Republican party don’t come out of thin air, people...
Somebody’s got to go to the office and commit the fraud that enables this fabulous orgy of pink-cheeked ennui. And wouldn’t you know it? Just when our man gets off the metro-north, the skies open up and he must shield his vast girth with, with…..a-ha! The servant’s umbrella! Perfect! It’s big enough for a family of five, and it even doubles as an urban assault weapon when faced with the daunting prospect of other pedestrians!
Because after all, isn’t he just a little bit more important than the rest of us? Certainly, we should clear a path for this captain of industry as a matter of course, not just when it rains! After all, we really ought to be back home, bolstering the clay and wattles of our humble shanty, as the developers and land barons continue their groundbreaking trajectory north. At this rate, Schermerhorn will be in Harlem before we know it, so let’s just bow and scrape our way over to the side, and let the great man pass. Because, my God, that is one hell of a big umbrella…..
...
THIS JUST IN: ....and in the "tangled up in drool" dept, my sources tell me that today is Bob Dylan's 64th birthday! So by all that is just and holy, I do hope there's someone about (perhaps from the lady's undergarment industry?) who will help blow out little Bobby's candle...happy birthday you old scalliwag....
...
May 23, 2005
FEEL A WHOLE LOT BETTER
over the past few days I've learned of a few near and dear ones who have been dealing with some serious health situations...it's served to remind me of just how fortunate I have been, but I still wish I could do more than just post a picture of a dog wearing a fez, and say "feel better"...
...sometimes humor just isn't enough...
...
May 20, 2005
OUT OF TIME
...this is how I want to remember you two...
"Time Is On My Side" was released in 1964. Back then, it must have felt like quite a powerful metaphor, and no pun intended--timely, but a few things have changed in the 40 years since. For one thing, you have both grown hideously old...
Anyone who knows me, knows I love the Stones. The domain name of this site should be proof enough of that. The first guitar riff I ever learned was 'Jumping Jack Flash' and given the opportunity, I would take a triple-lutz dive off the sobriety wagon and go on a Jack Daniels binge of historic proportions with Keith Richards.
But that just ain't going to happen, and so Mick, Charlie, Keef, the time has come to say: enough is enough...
I realize you'll probably never see this, but I hope the sentiment can carry itself along via the thousands, perhaps millions of us, who feel this way. Its not the genre--lots of blues and R&B artists work into their dotage--it's the venues. the stadium rock thing, guys, it's a young man's game, and you are beginning to embarrass yourselves. the records you're putting out are uninspired, cookie-cutter, overproduced spew...(I say this with love)...but you know that you can still fill up Giants Stadium, or RFK, or whichever sonic echo bin you choose to shill your t-shirts at. So, you keep on, while those of us who still honor the danger and magic and bluster of the 1960s-1970s Rolling Stones keep over to the side, shuffling our feet and staring at the floor, as we hum a Mick Taylor lick quietly to ourselves.
So, for the children...pretty please, with sugar on it.....just cut it out. Stop.
And just think, if you set this example, perhaps Paul McCartney will follow suit and take up golf. Think of it--you stole away Ron Wood and now Rod Stewart is singing with a big band! Good gravy, Cream just reunited! O, the humanity! Somebody please, stop the madness!
[granted I am just one man, just one blog, just one dog-eared LP of "Let It Bleed"... but if the beckoning ducats render my plea inaudible, perhaps you could insert a teensy little "farewell" before the word "tour?"]
thanks a bunch.....
...
May 19, 2005
SCIENCE FICTION/DOUBLE FEATURE
...use the farce...
some youngster [one of the legions of misguided eggheads who, after sleeping on the sidewalk to wait for the box office to open, managed to sit through the entire prequel, part III] opined on the radio this morning, that this film constituted the greatest artistic achievement in the history of the human race.
and who am I to argue? surely, the works of michelangelo have long been overrated...those van gogh paintings I saw in the musee d'orsay could have been scribbled by any other garden variety lunatic (hell, gimme a gen-u-ine Thomas Kincade any day), and my pal mr. pei's pyramid over at the louvre could have been cobbled together by any old team of egyptians with some power tools...surely, the hanging gardens of babylon are available today at a low, low price from your neighborhood home despot, and that taj mahal, well you know, just because something's big...
I say, hooray for George Lucas! All Leonardo Da Vinci was lacking was an industrial complex and a football field full of Macs, to give his Mona Lisa that 3-D effect he couldn't quite manage with that stingy old paintbrush...and who needs Beethoven when we've got Hans Zimmer and a Cubase user manual (and another football field full of Macs)?
'cause in a culture where "reality" is broadcast in primetime and "values" are something accrued in ratings points (or acted out as imaginary virgin mary sightings), it's only natural that we cling to the idea of a wise old Yoda, and yearn to cuddle up to a big hairy Wookie.
Congratulations America, you're a five-year-old.
...
[in other news: happy 60th birthday to Pete Townshend! we hope that your definition of "old" is duly flexible, and that your stated wish, to die before breaching the parameters of that definition, was indeed metaphorical.]
May 18, 2005
THE STREAK
...pavano, rhymes with.....
10-0...
pedro...
giambi's shot was a solo...
note to pedro.....your daddy's coming home...
...
May 15, 2005
(WISH I COULD FLY) LIKE SUPERMAN
...the man of steel...
a sudden bolt from the blue: how did I miss it? during his years as governor of the commonwealth of pennsylvania, all throughout his tenure as secretary of homeland security....his fascination with color identifiers, his clear crimefighting agenda, the distinctive widow's peak, his fondness for flags, pictures of flags, flag lapel pins, and flag collectibles....his blue collar love of all-purpose duct tape, the knubby boxer's nose, the square, chiseled chin, the small black eyes gazing balefully upon an unjust world, his habit of being manipulated and fooled by men far weaker and dastardly than he, his avoidance of kryptonite and uncomfortable silences with women named Lois, the sudden dashes to nearby phone booths (while nearby aides carried cell phones), the x-ray vision, the incomparable biceps.....how did all of this escape my attention, and for that matter, the notice of the entire free world?
Tom Ridge IS SUPERMAN.
...
May 12, 2005
TAKE ME OUT TO THE BALLGAME
it ain't over 'til it's over...
Today is the 80th birthday of the sage philosopher and hall of fame ballplayer, Yogi Berra. While he's increasingly known for his aphorisms and quotations (which I'm happy to include here), it should not be overlooked that this is a guy who has TEN world series rings. While there are celebrated luminaries in today's game--Sosa, Bonds, etc.--who seem superhuman in their ability to pile up heretofore unheard of statisitics--most have fallen short of the most basic overriding objective--to win a single championship.
Here was a guy who toughed it out, called the game for a host of hall of fame pitchers, hung around with people like Joe DiMaggio and Mickey Mantle and Whitey Ford, and while doing so, WON IT ALL. Ten times. And his visits to the doctor would most likely have involved ice packs, bandages and perhaps the occasional aspirin...
and all the while, a truly original worldview:
I DIDN'T SAY THE THINGS I SAID
ALWAYS GO TO OTHER PEOPLE'S FUNERALS, OTHERWISE THEY WON'T COME TO YOURS
HALF OF THE LIES THEY TELL US AREN'T TRUE
PITCHING ALWAYS BEATS BATTING - AND VICE VERSA
THE FUTURE AIN'T WHAT IT USED TO BE
IF YOU COME TO A FORK IN THE ROAD, TAKE IT
I MADE A WRONG MISTAKE
NOBODY GETS THERE ANYMORE, ITS TOO CROWDED
IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE TO GET A CONVERSATION GOING, EVERYBODY WAS TALKING TOO MUCH
ITS TOUGH TO MAKE PREDICTIONS, SPECIALLY ABOUT THE FUTURE
THIS IS LIKE DEJA VU ALL OVER AGAIN
Happy Birthday Yogi....
...
May 11, 2005
YUMMY YUMMY YUMMY
…we’re a happy family we’re a happy family…
today was the day I decided to test the lactose waters of milk and butter, and hey now! It seems that I am indeed able to tolerate said substances with nary a fart. Then again, farting wasn’t my worry…so welcome back ye bonnie fromagerie, hello again to chocolicious choco-drinks, quik and yoo hoo and howdy-do to my favorite breakfast cereals…hi-dee-ho to milkshakes and big lardful schmears of cream cheese, omelettes and alfredos and mac & cheese and ice cream (god bless us everyone)…looks like all I had was the most insidious stomach virus in the history of human gastronomy…we now return you to your broadcast day….
…
May 10, 2005
MAGNET AND STEEL
...better watch your back seymour...
this is an outfit which already merits a spot in my links section (click on "magnets"), so obviously I'm a fan...the telecaster upgrade project I've been working on for the past few years seems to have come to its final fruition, and I've been so happy with this particular instrument that I just thought I'd mention its primary tone source today--the harmonic design super 90 pickup.
(scroll down a bit)
here's my review: it's great.
in fact, when I purchased it a few years back, I wrote a review and posted it on harmony central, and it was reprinted on the HD site itself, so no need to repeat the various ramblings concerning shimmer and sparkle and overdrive and sustain and all the other cliches I put in there (though I will add that, on a symbolic level, I think it's totally cool that some of the best tele pickups in current production are coming out of Bakersfield).
my little guitar geek/tone recipe secret--since it's wired to sonically resemble a P90 (instead of the standard, twangier/brighter tele pickup), I experimented with a 500K pot instead of the standard 250K. it opens up the high end just a smidgen, so that it's closer to the standard tele sound without sacrificing the extra midrange you get from it--and the volume pot can darken it up if you want to lose the high end, at any time. pretty much anything above '5' on the volume is a good tone. in fact, it's a pretty strong taper on this particular pot, so volume swells (ala roy buchanan) are a cinch.
my next project is an old tokai tele that I'm going to resurrect and rebuild with very simple les paul jr. specs. one pickup (for starters anyway), and that pickup is going to be a Z-90 (his P90 clone in a humbucker size). it'll be my first guitar build that involves finishing/painting a guitar body, so I'll probably take my time and do a bit of research and so forth regarding protective gear, humidity, and the astrological significance of sea foam green vs. shell pink...I expect there'll be ample time for such preparations, as back order from HD is typically a few months, undoubtedly well worth the wait...
...
May 09, 2005
KISS MY AXE
...I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK....
took delivery on a Pulaski axe the other day, and let me tell you boy howdy, that is a whole lot of wood chipping, tree annihilating, chopping power. the opportunity to yell "timber!" in one's own backyard is a rare pleasure, and the passage from cheapo two-bit garden tools (now on display at Home Depot) to something that is built to last is extremely satisfying. I've already burned through a hoe and a metal rake this year, and it isn't even June yet. no more shoddy crap for me. just american-made, heirloom quality tools, or else the job can wait...
side bonus: removal of weed trees and ivy, along with installation of bird feeder and bath, has suddenly brought with it a new population of melodious songbirds, including a mr. & mrs. cardinal (we've nicknamed the male "ratzinger") who seem to be toying with the idea of moving in...a bigger feeder would probably cinch the deal....
...
May 06, 2005
WORDS
end of a quiet week, not much to post today...instead sharing some compiled wisdom of others...
Question with boldness even the existence of a God; because, if there be one, he must more approve of the homage of reason, then that of blindfolded fear. -Thomas Jefferson
More than any other time in history, mankind faces a crossroads. One path leads to despair and utter hopelessness. The other, to total extinction. Let us pray we have the wisdom to choose correctly. -Woody Allen
The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. Some see nature all ridicule and deformity... and some scarce see nature at all. But to the eyes of the man of imagination, nature is imagination itself. -William Blake
I have often wondered how it is that every man loves himself more than all the rest of men, but yet sets less value on his own opinion of himself than on the opinion of others. -Marcus Aurelius
I never desire to converse with a man who has written more than he has read. -Samuel Johnson
I'm always amazed that people will actually choose to sit in front of the television and just be savaged by stuff that belittles their intelligence. -Alice Walker
Too often we enjoy the comfort of opinion without the discomfort of thought. -John F. Kennedy
The urge to save humanity is almost always a false front for the urge to rule. -H.L. Mencken
Sometimes I wonder whether the world is being run by smart people who are putting us on or by imbeciles who really mean it. -Mark Twain
The main difference between men and women is that men are lunatics and women are idiots." -Rebecca West
Whenever 'A' attempts by law to impose his moral standards upon 'B', 'A' is most likely a scoundrel. -H.L. Mencken
When will our consciences grow so tender that we will act to prevent human misery rather than avenge it? -Eleanor Roosevelt
There are books in which the footnotes or comments scrawled by some reader's hand in the margin are more interesting that the text. The world is one of these books. -George Santayana
A great war leaves the country with three armies - an army of cripples, an army of mourners, and an army of thieves. -German proverb
Patriotism is supporting your country all the time and the government when it deserves it. -Mark Twain
I distrust those people who know so well what God wants them to do because I notice it always coincides with their own desires. -Susan B Anthony
We have just enough religion to make us hate but not enough to make us love one another. -Jonathan Swift
By all means marry; if you get a good wife, you'll be happy. If you get a bad one, you'll become a philosopher. --Socrates
The notes I handle no better than many pianists. But the pauses between the notes -- ah, that is where the art resides. -Artur Schnabel
The fact that a believer is happier than a skeptic is no more to the point than the fact than a drunken man is happier than a sober one. –George Bernard Shaw
Growth in wisdom can be measured precisely by decline in bile. -Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche
The folly of mistaking a paradox for a discovery, a metaphor for a proof, a torrent of verbiage for a spring of capital truths, and oneself for an oracle, is inborn in us. --Paul Valery
...
May 05, 2005
IN A MELLOW TONE
more mp3 files added under the p-bass (lower right).
we got the wack tone in the 3rd mp3 file with one of these:
it has separate inputs for guitar and bass. if you plug a guitar into it, it sounds a lot like this:
but when you plug a bass into it, it sounds more like this:
given our own particular predilections, it was a pretty easy decision on which way to go. I'm a pretty big fan of using stompboxes with bass guitar. in some ways, it works better than with a regular guitar, as there's not much high-end squeal to contend with. most stompers do their work in the midrange anyway. more experimentation to come, as there's a sensitivity control that might yield better control over the extreme wah effect--we both liked the tone that occured just on the threshold of the effect. the next entry into the signal path will probably be some kind of fuzz. fuzz bass rules...
May 04, 2005
JUST PUSH PLAY
from the editorial board
re: announcing a new feature...
in an ongoing and throughly lazy effort to make this site more feature-rich and fun (woo hoo!), I've finally figured out how to make the mp3 pop-up thing work, so now when you, my esteemed reader, take an interest in the new instrument feature (lower right), you'll be able to click on an mp3 link to hear the actual instrument in the picture...!!! I know, I know, it's revolutionary, and I expect to be showered with various internet awards for web design, content, and sheer brilliance, but honestly, I don't care about any of that. I only care about you, my beloved and discriminating blog reader, who I imagine is keenly interested in the evaluating the tone of a fender bass reissue via a 128k mp3. the current sound file comes snipped from a recent recording session we did. I think you'll agree that it is a definitive passage imbued with timbre, nuance, and gravitas. yay, it sparkles.
I'll probably add one or two more files (perhaps with more, um, bass) in coming days. and there are plenty more instruments in the stable yet to feature, so stay tuned to this fun and frivolous tone voyage as we approach summer...
...
May 03, 2005
THAT SMELL
...and speaking of lactose intolerance...
a-looky here! a-look-a-like dem kwazy kats from the 60s are back to try and horde a few more precious klassic rawk dollars from the lockstep drones of music legendry (also known as England)...
what gumption! what savoir faire! imagine! the blues licks! the botox!
and you get to hear ginger baker recite "pressed rat and warthog" ....bonus!
they live! they breathe! they possess an uncanny knack for forward locomotion! and eric was nice enough to hire jack and ginger (hey, that's how they invented that drink!) their own personal assistants! looks like they made it! after all!
what's this? three old british wankers found sleeping on the golf course? NO! It's Cream, you idiot! On the list of top 100 bands to be listed in top 100 lists, they're like, number 37! Now go out and read a copy of Rolling Stone or something, you ignorant American bastard....
...
MILKCOW BLUES BOOGIE
the cow is of the bovine ilk, one end is moo, the other, milk. --ogden nash
It now seems that I must again add to the list of things which I am unable to tolerate…(which includes) boy bands, right-wing demagogues, left-wing demagogues, golf, the phrase “back in the day,” reality tv, rudy giuliani, mike bloomberg, people from long island, sean hannity, bill o'reilly, people from florida, people from texas, the boston red sox, business magazines, john ashcroft, the “light jazz” genre, the Bush family, secular Christmas music, infomercials, sex and the city, desperate housewives, megachurches, soccer moms/nascar dads, MTV, iPods, blackberrys, meetings whose sole purpose is to plan for other meetings, status reports, shopping malls, SUVs, yellow ribbon bumper stickers, other people’s children, rednecks, the sound of old people breathing through their noses, people who walk four abreast down 7th avenue at rush hour, FM radio, the films of Ron Howard, Frankie Valli, Diana Ross, Celine Dion, Richard Gere, Stephen Seagal, Julia Roberts, Paris Hilton, Jessica Simpson, Paula Abdul, paperwork, doctors, religious fundamentalists, the “born in the usa” snare sound, the post-jim henson muppets, the post-mel blanc bugs bunny, 80s nostalgia, donald rumsfeld and the notion that anyone hates anyone for their freedom (instead of their money)...to this I must now add those foods which are imbued with lactose…cheese, ice cream, butter, alfredo sauce, etc.…if true, this is sad news indeed--because unlike the previous list, these are things that I truly love…perhaps the fates will be merciful and let this just be a nasty stomach virus...
...