In1927 Joan Miro was quoted saying "I want to assassinate painting"

as thoughtless as you were back then



New song, just the first verce and chorus are done, though.

I can never live again
I could never see the end

I could build myself anew
I could live my whole life through
without going back to you

If I could find a place where I can breath
its getting out of hand
I'd take and tell you all you mean

and I
could never say whats in you
even when its all that I see

I took the greed out of my grin/and sunk my teath into my work instead


Common People

I wanted to write a post about my trip to california but haven't got around to it and you know what? Fuck it. I've said most of it already to anyone who reads this blog. It was an amazing trip, it was a terrible trip. I'm glad I live where I do. So instead of that I'll talk about this mix tape. I remember vaguely a day in July, possibly the fifth, when I tried to make a tape. It was hectic. I always seem to choose to make tapes when I'm a little on edge but this time I was at a breaking point. I don't know why. Six songs made it on in quick secession and after Mr. Grieves ended the cd player fell off its perch and smashed to the ground, spilling out its batteries and the disk within it. I felt like I had been beat up. I couldn't continue with the tape. Instead I just sat on the concrete in my garage for a wile and then, eventually I went to bed. I found the tape still in the deck when my sound system arrived in mid october. I had all but forgotten about the genesis of it. And because of the twenty year old cassette I recorded it on and because of the weird noise reduction I used it sounded beautifully desaturated and sweet. I decided I wouldn't finish the side, that I would leave a long gap of silence before the tape finished. Then I flipped the tape and made another half-mix to represent my first two months in new york

Side A
sometime in July

Modern Guilt - Beck
Skunk - Jon Spencer Blues Explosion
Collen Zeal - Blur
My Little Underground - The Jesus and Mary Chain
Clash City Rocker - The Clash
Mr. Grieves - Pixies

Side B
sometime in October

Spirit They've Vanished - Avey Tare and Panda Bear
Close the Lid - Port O'Brien
The Back Angles Death Song - The Velvet Underground
Take It or Leave It - The Strokes
I'll Believe in Anything - Wolf Parade
Motion Picture Soundtrack - Radiohead
Every Day is a Child With Teeth - Liars
Naked as We Came - Iron & Wine

yeah? well I cant see anyone else smiling here


This Hearts on Fire

I hate having to come up with titles for songs. I don't want this to be called 'everything I can take from you' I don't like how that sounds.

I'll give you a nickel to beat out your dime
if thats not to much to ask I know you can't aford anything this time

I'd love to live inside those lies but you know their true
I'd love to live inside those lies but I keep hoping you'll someday somehow get through

and I want everything everything that I can take from you
I want everything everything that I can take from you
I want your eyes your soul your point of view

it must be fine living in your smart school
I'm sure its just fine living down in the dark too
it must be a blast living just outside your skin
with all your suburb heros they're just waiting to get in

and I want everything everything that I can take from you
I want everything everything that I can take from you
I want the hardest things you'd ever had to swallow
I want all the things you never asked to borrow

and I don't know what to say 'cause I would give it all away
I would give it all away

how could you take me to the shore when no one answered you
how could you throw yourself to the waves when no one wanted to
you smiled and said you didn't want to find
and left to let your masterpeice go looking through what you couldn't leve behind

and I want everything everything that I can take from you
I want everything everything that I can take from you
I want your eyes I want your soul I want your point of view
I want to stare into the sunshine that enveloped you

and I don't know what to say cause I would hide it all away
I would hide it all away

we don't know what to do


Pictures of You

This is not the depression of eighth grade, or the depression of my freshman year, or the depression of my sophmore year. Its close though. How can that be? Isn't my situation worse now? I really enjoyed freshman year as a whole. I was going to make some kind of point here but I forgot it.

how i always held close in your fear


Naked as We Came

For your consideration: The first essay I have ever written that I like and the one I will be submitting to collages. Its mostly true, embelished just a little bit. Let me know how you like it

The Only Living Boy in New York

My first day in New York was rather hectic. So hectic, in fact, that I have trouble piecing it all together in my head. Was that all in the same day? It seems that it couldn’t possibly have taken place in less than a week. But I will try to recount the events of that day as accurately as I can recall, though first I believe some contextual information will be necessary.

When I was on the verge of turning 17, I decided I was to move to New York City. This decision came about because I didn’t know what I was doing with the next year of my life. The next year was empty because I graduated high school early, and I graduated high school early for such a great number of reasons that it would take many more essays this long to explain properly. My recent life had been one of direct routes. Earlier that year I realized that I needed to work on film or video production. Instead of waiting until after college, I moved as the crow flies and went immediately to enroll in a digital video intensive at San Francisco State. Having known I wanted to live in New York for a long time, I thought to continue on that theme and simply move to New York a bit earlier then expected.

My plan was first to call up my aunt who lived in the city to see if I could crash on her couch for a week, maybe two, while I found a job and an apartment. I had never met this aunt, at least not as far back as I could remember. I was assured that she had been close with my dad and that there would be no problem with me staying there for a short period. I called her requesting this but she didn’t pick up and I left a message. I also went about looking for an apartment online, mostly using Craig’s List. Because of my (under)age and that fact that I was not already in New York to view the rooms for rent, this proved rather difficult. However a lucky break did occur when I was working as a cameraman for free concerts over the summer. One of the other cameramen held a high post in the Applied Research Center, or A.R.C., a group dedicated to combating racism. He told me that they had a New York office and he could get me an internship in their film and video department. So then I had an internship - it was a start.

Summer sped past and what a summer it was, but all too soon the day of my departure was approaching. There were a couple of parties thrown on my behalf and I was amazed to realize how many people would miss me. I was scrambling around to find an apartment still. It was looking grimly possible that I would be left out in the cold when I got to the city. The day before I was to board the aircraft, I discovered a voice message on my phone from my aunt apologizing for the delay. She had been out of town for quite some time. She had nowhere for me to stay as her place was small and her children were beginning to return to school. So went my safety net.

I said my goodbyes and packed away my life in a suitcase. “What was I going to do?” people asked. Where would I stay? I didn’t know. What I did know is that A.R.C. wanted me for a shoot in two days and I would do whatever I had to do to be there.

The flight was a redeye. I arrived at John F. Kennedy airport at four in the morning. I was more then a little bit tired. I used my first moments in New York, after picking up my baggage, to splash some water on my face and to change my clothes in a bathroom stall. Then I went about the task of getting into Manhattan proper…not nearly as easy as I had thought. It took me just under one hour of wandering around the ground floor of that airport before I was finally able to deduce an effective way of getting out. It entailed a twelve dollar ticket to a shuttle bus which would, hopefully, drop me at Penn Station. I came aboard the bus and took a window seat. The bus, snaking its way towards its destination, can’t possibly have cost me more then an hour - but to me, despite employing the aid of a Modest Mouse CD to help pass the time, it felt rather close to a lifetime. And was it not a lifetime? It could be argued that my life was scraped and returned anew over the duration of that ride. You see, that bus, even more then the plane that took me from California, signified my move from the familiar to the frontier. Airports, as I’m concerned, are mostly the same and finding an escape from them was all but mundane for me. Manhattan, by myself, on the other hand, might as well have been the surface of the moon. How appropriate, it occured to me, to have my recorded little Isaac Brock singing to me “That’s how the world began/And that’s how the world will end.”

I was deposited somewhere in the city, I’m not certain where, and told to wait for a second bus that would bring me to Penn Station. The bus didn’t come for forty minutes. In the interim, I had plenty of time to sit with my thoughts. I was at a loss as to my physical location. The street signs were meaningless as I had no map and did not know so much as the shape of the island. As for where I was mentally, well that was also somewhat adrift in the void. I called my mother. “What am I doing? Where will I stay? Why did I come here?” My mother considered for a moment and I realized how early in the morning it was there. How rude I was! Then came my mother’s reply. Calm down. Breath. I was to make my way to the station because from there it was easy to get anywhere else. She would scour the internet for some temporary lodging, or, if nothing else, a place to leave my stuff so I could move around unimpaired, and she would call me back.

The second bus did eventually arrive and by gazing out its window I was able, at last, to view the city. I would like to state here that the music I am listening to is of particular importance to me. On this bus, having had time to thoroughly digest my Modest Mouse, I took The Velvet Underground and Nico for a spin. Between that and the view passing by my window, I was suddenly in a very New York mind frame. I felt grossly different from my Bay Area self all of a sudden and rather liked it. I quickly resolved to listen to only New York bands for the remainder of the day.

I dismounted at Penn Station and went about locating some breakfast. It was now a small fraction past seven in the morning and the sun also rose, though, as there was no horizon in sight - only buildings - I was not allowed to witness its assent. My goal was to find a diner, but merely looking for one proved nearly impossible. The suitcase that had seemed so small when I had packed it now was gargantuan and poorly balanced, my messenger bag cut deeply into my shoulder and my guitar begged not to be moved at all. Because of this, my search for a diner was forced to come to an end rather quickly. I instead stumbled into the first restaurant I found. It was a terrible little sandwich joint, and none too cheap either. I sat there with my meal thinking how much I had bragged to my friends about the food in New York. How did my first meal here turn out so bad?

I left the restaurant unsatisfied but admittedly full. My mom gave me a call back. She had once again responded to a great deal of Craig’s List room ads. I should be receiving some calls and, secondly, she had found me a gym. “A gym? Couldn’t that wait?” I was informed that rock climbing was very important to me and this place had a good climbing wall. And that it was a good way to meet people and stay in shape. Besides, I could leave my stuff there for now while I found a place to stay. “Okay. Fine.” It was concluded that I would take a taxi out to Chelsea and have a look at it.

My mind first went to all the films I had seen in which cabs were hailed. There always seemed to be a special technique to it and it was never without difficulty. I did consider briefly putting two fingers in my mouth and trying to whistle loudly. It always seemed to work well in cheap comedies, but the idea was promptly dismissed as ridiculous. Most of those movies were shot in LA anyway. So instead, I merely stepped out into the street and raised my hand. I made eye contact with the driver of an empty cab and that was it. Simple and relatively whistle free.
What bands lived in Chelsea? I couldn’t think of one. I did know that I wanted to save my Dylan for the West Village, my Talking Heads for the Lower East Side, and so on, so I figured Brooklyn’s Animal Collective would have to do.

We arrived at the gym and I paid the fair. Inside I was granted a brief tour - I won’t bore you with the details - and a place to store my luggage for a time. Most certainly a relief! To top it all off, there were showers. At that moment, I was standing still in the clothes I had hugged my friends goodbye in. After a six hour plane ride, I was disheveled and smelled rather rank. A shower, an outfit swap, and a quick shave, and I was a new man. A new man, as I saw it - a New York man ready to face the world.

I left the gym past nine o’clock in the morning, at first not knowing where to go. Soon, though, I received a phone call about a room for rent in the East Village. My mom works fast! I took down the address and informed them that I’d come to look at the room in an hour. I quickly moved to the nearest subway station. How much easier it was to move around sans luggage! I studied the map on the station wall closely and popped in a Ramones disc for the ride. It occurred to me that I had now listened to four different albums before ten AM. When you have no one to talk to, what other options do you have? The subway was overwhelming and I got lost. A number of different times lost, in fact. I had plotted out a course where I would board one train heading south and then transfer to another easterly one. My first try, I wasn’t paying attention and missed the transfer point. After a lot of waiting and another look at a subway map, I was eventually able to get on the right eastern bound train. Later, when I finally walked out of the station I had been aiming for, I was shocked to find I wasn’t very near my destination at all. But I had had enough of subways and I decided that walking the ten blocks would be quicker.

I did finally find myself at the room for rent, just before noon, or almost 2 hours after I said I would arrive. Luckily the owner of the apartment was still there and he welcomed me in. It was then explained to me that the space had been one of the original squats in the mid 60s when the current owner was immersed in the Hippy Movement. The building later became a coop and he acquired the rights to the room he had once hid out in. The owner of the room mentioned how much things had changed since then and how greatly he resented the gentrification of the area. This was not a good sign. My biggest dislike about my home town was the old hippies constantly telling us kids how much better the 60’s were. How terrible it must be to live in the past when the past is never coming back. The room itself was large and furnished and I was informed that I could smoke in there. When I told him I didn’t smoke, he shot me back a look of skepticism and repeated that I could smoke in there as long as I opened the window. Then followed the price which I’m told was not high for the area, but was certainly outrageous to me. So I thanked him for his time and I left.

My mom had told me of a decent, inexpensive restaurant on St. Marks Place that I made haste to, but I almost didn’t make it. I can’t say there were any specific obstacles in my way except for my vicious little mind that threatened to stop me in my tracks. Why was I here? I had left my home, my friends, my family - everything I knew to come to this place. Here everyone was a stranger. I had no job and not even a place to stay. Had I come just to waste my savings and my mother’s money? These thoughts burned and they reddened my eyes. The sky was darkening with rain clouds as if in reaction. Never think it can’t get any worse or it will start raining. These thoughts continued to attack me as I reached the restaurant. The food that was placed in front of me was full of flavor yet it was tasteless. The water was dry. I could fly back home humiliated yet comfortable, but what then? What could I do with the next year? Every way was a loss. Through my head phones Bob Dylan told me that there was no direction home. How does it feel?

It was a friend’s phone call that brought me back to reality. He was excited. He told me how much it meant to everyone that I was in New York. He told me that I was proving all the high school principals and all the jaded parents in all the world wrong. He told me he wished he was the one in New York and then he asked me to describe the city.

By 1 AM that night much had happened but nothing had changed. I was pulling my baggage down the street with great difficulty towards the cheap hotel my mom booked for me at the last minute. It was raining and I was tired. A girl walking in the opposite direction shot me a quick smile but it was a smile like you never see. It was not a look of sympathy nor really one of empathy. It did not say, “I know what you’re going through.” But more like, “I’m going through that too. Sucks, doesn’t it?” My bags were suddenly weightless, I was in love. In many ways I hate myself for not stopping her to talk, but I suppose that’s okay too.

she said wake up, its no use pretending


Pillars Were Hollow and Filled With Candy So We Tore Them Down

before I wrote the note to jackie on the back of that photograph I decided to burn the edges. I think I know why. I had accedentaly caught a napkin on fire from the stove earlyer and the idea of the fire so suddenly jumping from something as contained as the stove to a fire that is wild and threatened to burn my hand was nice. but as I went to burn the edge and it caught fire I suddenly didn't want to put it out. I had a quick flash in my mind of the great photograph fire and then of sending jackie a burnt stub of a picture with here adress and the word smile writen a million times on what was left of the back. actualy I still like that idea. maybe i'll do it a bit later to surprise jackie or someone else. but why did I have that urge so suddenly one might ask. someone else might ask why didn't I do it. I know the answer to the second one. it was because unfortunitly my base urges are always twards the sensible not the extreem and in moments of stress I tend to snap back to them. secondly it was because that picture I love and wanted to share with jackie and didn't want to have to go and pay to get reprinted. but I think it would have been a beautiful beautiful distruction.

fins to make us fish-like


Falling Through Your Clothes

I kinda love the world right now. Not that I'm having a particularly great time in it but I look outside and see all the great times there is to have. Does that make any sence? I spend time at MOMA and I'm so amazed. I've never been all that psyched about visual arts befroe but every peice in there is so full of life and something so wild and they blow your mind. And I walk down the street in SoHo or union square and see the street venders selling art thats like nothing you ever seen and I think there are all these geniouses walking around me. I've been taking lots of photographs, I wish I could show them to you but I have no scaner but they are all beutiful. Can I be that good of a photographer? I don't think so. In fact most of the pictures come out not at all what I intended. How did that get on the film? So this tells me that it must not be me whos seeking out and finding the beuty, it must be the world around me that is beutiful so anywhere I point the camera it will land on something great. I'm still loanly, I still wish I was back with you guys sometimes, I go to shows by my self and try to talk to people it seems I have nothing in common with. I lost my job yesterday and it seems like I'm back to square one. But through all that the world outside is great, the city is great, and all I want is to be surrounded by art forever.

run run run deep breath then jump


Auto Rock

I am in new york, and I am lonely. I saw Mogwai,got an apartment, played guitar on the street, filmed a speech, lost a metro card, ate at a different place every day, and would really love for you to call me.

oh to be back in california wishing i was back in new york


Inertiatic ESP

I generally have this neat little function in my head that I call the 'aw, fuck it' reflex. It occurs when I'm in an unsure situation and I'm afraid of potential consequences. For example a number of years ago when some friends where trying to get me to ride a roller coaster. I was scared shitless but at the same time didn't want to sit out the ride and then my mind kicked in 'aw, fuck it' (not in those words, I was pretty young at the time) and I went. Its served me well, it gets me a good deal of experiences I wouldn't have otherwise had. Not all of them good but at least from then on I could always say I'd went for it. And yet tonight it didn't show up when I needed it, it didn't occur to me until an hour later when it seemed so simple.

last night i herd lepers


I Wanna Be Sedated

walk on the wild side is not what you think it is. its about moving to new york. its about a million people who hate them selves so much that they want to jump out of their skins. they want to be anything at all as long as it wasnt what they are. so they move to the city. and they find this peice of shit. and they lie about everything. they swear that theyre not everything they dont feel. theyre circus clowns who invite you to come along.

hurry hurry hurry before i go insain

April and the Phantom

what would i call my theme song. a couple come to mind off the top of my head. split needles alt version has some of my thoughts on life with the driving beat. where is my mind captures a bit of anger and a bit of disalusionment 'your head will colaps because theres nothing in it and you'll ask your self' and its intence but its a bit cliche i guess. somoething clasic i guess clasic for me at least. gimme shelter, or turn the page, or dead leaves and the dirty ground. i suspect that if i definatly had to choose i would pick i am the walrus. its always had the certain resenance with me. its not ment to be figured out but it definatly means something. but right now if i had to answer that essay question i would put bodies the sex pistols. because that song more then any other ever made was created only to destroy. dadaism was like pistols era punk and one of them once said 'We had lost confidence in our culture. Everything had to be demolished.' i dont pretend to know what works. but i know this doesnt. everything has to be demolished but instead im leaving

im not right n im not fakin


Love → Building on Fire

in aol instant messenger it started to allow you to put status messages. Right now mine says Qu'est Que C'est ('whats this' in french). And it says that for a number of reasons. First and foremost its a reference to a talking heads song Psycho killer. But its also a reference to the last phrase I had there, Whats This, being the direct french translation of it. Whats This in turn was a reference to a radiohead song Paranoid android and also referencing that I was going to see radiohead soon after I put that and also in general response to all thats about to change around me. "from all the unborn chicken voices in my head Whats this?" Radiohead in turn is named after a talking heads song of the same name.
Why did I put so much thought in to these things? Because I'm an idiot.

its not love, which is my face, which is a building, which is on fire


Hang Me Up to Dry

Jack is probably the strangest person I know. I mean, anyone can tell you that hes weird but they don't know the half of it. A lot of people are weird when you first meet them but when you get to know them everybody is human. We have hopes, we have fears, we have insecurities, thoughts about the world, so on. Jack has none of these, or at lest none that I've ever seen after knowing him for years. Benji and him were very similar in my mind when I met them because of the jokes and non sequeters. But as I got to know Benji I quickly realized that hes just a guy with ADD and a strong want for people to like him. Jack is not. He is absolute. And though he is a lot of fun to hang out with, and occasionally makes good, intelligent conversation, that aspect of him scares the shit out of me. Theres not a lot to Jack. I don't know what must have happoned to him to push him into such simplicity. People shouldn't be absolutes. People should be people.

Beck has a song called Fuckin With My Head and its in my head. Two parts in particular the chorus 'when you want to be with me then we will see whos fucking with my head!' but mostly the refrain 'I AINT GOT NO SOUL! I AINT GOT NO SOUL! NO NO NO NO!' and thats in my head all day over and over "i aint got no soul!" Becks not my favorite artist, though he may or may not be in my top ten, but his songs seem to effect me in my life more then anyone elses. Why is that? And why is it that nobody else likes beck?

you wrung me out to to to many times



fuck you adrian. music isn't about logic. its about feeling it. Today I didn't see a concert. Jonny Greenwood premiered his first full scale classical piece called Popcorn Superhet Receiver tonight in san francisco. Tomorrow Jonny's main project, Radiohead, is headlining Outside Lands Festival and being the first band to ever play in golden gate park at night. Balcony seats were only fifteen dollars. That started, I suppose, about an hour ago. Fine. So why do I feel like shit? I shouldn't. I feel like one of those brats who doesn't get one tiny thing that he wants and troughs a fit over it. I am after all going to see day one of outside lands tomorrow. I don't want to feel this way but I do, so what can I do. Because I watched these tickets. I found out about the performance two weeks before tickets went on sale. I spared the word looking for someone to go with. Parker seemed very excited about it. But I was screwed over by the tickets. Because they were available only by will call meaning that the person whos name is on the credit card needed to be there to pick the tickets up. My mom didn't want to drive me and parker into the city that day so that was out. So we could still buy them by going into the city before hand and getting the physical ticket. That was supposed to be monday. I even agreed to work on the rotoscopeing for my short films (a very painful and time consuming aspect of special effect post-production) so my mom would drive me in. But then after three hours of trying to get her out the door I realized that she wasn't going to drive me in like she said she would. So I was screwed there. But I could go in by myself to purchase the tickets but since we had no cash in the house, (not even thirty fucking dollars) I asked my mom to go withdraw some of my money from the bank so I could get the tickets but she didn't. So I was screwed there. I asked Parker to buy the tickets but he called me back the next day telling me he couldn't, not that I was really surprised. My mom assured me that I could purchase at the door. I figured that I could buy with the credit card and show my id as her son and get the tickets. But it was too late they were sold out. I looked on craigs list but nothing materialized there either. And so here I am. feeling as about to explode. Because I did everything in my power but I was completely powerless. and you know even had i got the tickets parker would have then informed me that he couldn't go and I would be screwed again i bet. this is not something to feel this way about GODDAMN. but I can't shake it.

let me tell you bout my baby


Spoonful Weighs a Ton

I need recording equipment. Because right now I'm not capable of writing songs. no thats not true but when I do put down songs they end up as light elliott smith and nick drake mixed with the national stuff. and I scrap it before the song is half way finished. not that theres anything wrong with that but its not what I feel. I sit down with my guitar and what comes out is feed back and distortion and noise and anger and its all just flowing from my fingers but i stand up and its gone from me. how can I make that into a song? i cant go to johns because I don't know if I could replicate it in front of anyone. i need to be able to commit that to tape in my garage when it comes so i can hear it later and do something with it

being drunk on their plan, they lifted up the son


New Rose

A week and a half ago Parker asked me why I like what he called unlistenable music. By that he means music with little mellody, high distortion, etc. So I made him a tape and cd

Mix 5/11/08

Side A
Heroin - Velvet Underground
Never Understand - Jesus and Mary Chain
Clash City Rockers - The Clash
Nothing to Say - SoundGarden
Teen Creeps - No Age
Paper Cuts - Nirvana
Impressions [excerpt] - John Coltrane
Like Calling Up Thunder - Gun Club
Sweet Sunshine - Beck

Side B
If You Found This Its Probably Too Late - Arctic Monkeys
Shut the Door - Fugazi
Ventilator Blues - The Rolling Stones
Tuff Gnarl - Sonic Youth
Dazed and Confused - Led Zeppelin
Bone Machine - Pixies
Bodies - Sex Pistols
Skunk - Jon Spencer Blues Explosion
Settle for Nothing - Rage Against the Machine
New Rose - The Damned
Judy is a Punk - The Ramones
Filter - Minor Threat
I Don't Want to Here It - Minor Threat

don't get too close or it'll burn your eyes


Teen Creeps

ok so i looked back at all my blog posts and it scares me because so much of what i say is total crap and i know its crap now but then i said it with such seriousness not because i was stupid but because i was ignorant there was no way i could have known back then what i know now so thats ok but it really tares me up because how much of what i wright and what i think and what i say is bull shit that i just dont know enough to realize and i think it must be that way because it was that way it has been for every other period in my life in january i had a thought that i was in a good place that i was relatively sane that i had it together but i was wrong i was was an idiot. I had that same thought this week but I'm wrong.

wash away what we create


Everyone is My Friend

Right now I don't feel much like blogging. I've been thinking a lot about a lot of things but its just always looks terrible when I put them down here. The words never say what I want them to. So call me. 316-4730 any time, especially late at night. I'd love to tell you what I'm thinking or listen to what your thinking, or just shoot the shit for a while.

may we all make it home safely


The Aeroplane Over The Sea

Adrian seems to think his blog is terrible. He looks at mine and at Travis' and at whoever elses and he thinks we have more insight because our posts are a bit more straight froward, a bit more abstract, and a bit more consistent. He thinks that this makes ours better. Hes wrong. We have a thought and we make a mental note to write a blog post about it and later we do. He has a thought and makes a mental not to write a blog post about it and he gos and writes a post about something basically different. He wrights as he thinks it. And though he has self pity similar to me he is less removed from it. You can hear the genuine angst and confusion, more honestly in every post then anything on my page. Its easily the best blog I've ever read. Keep writing.

there is music that sounds from the streets



I am a nihilist. You are too. In a very real sense we believe in nothing. Nietzsche said that god is dead in that its no longer possible for us to believe in him. And its not. You say you have a philosophy or your spiritual or you believe in something more but in the middle of the day you believe in what you see. I know theres nothing more than what I see.

No future
I believe in nothing but its my nothing
I've got no ideal inside of me, in fact there's nothing at all

goin a little crazy



some days. I have no vice but if I feel like I need one right now. And I'm not happy, more than usual at least. And all I do is think about that when I'm with friends. Because they're unhappy too. And I don't want to walk around with them I just want to sit down and talk but when we do I just want to move. Or I just want to go home. And they're being an ass and I'm annoyed at them and I'm sure they're annoyed with me because I'm being an ass and I want to be alone but when I am I realize its the worse. And everyone feels this way too. And everyone feels this way.

well my ex says I'm laking in depth
but I will do my best

One Armed Scissor

I love punk rock and hardcore. The energy the anger the minimalism. And there are a lot of incredible bands. Sex Pistols, Clash, Minor Threat, Gun Club. I can't get enough. But for every bit of fidelity theres a gallon of sludge. People attracted to the noise, the image, the anger, but without the purpose. Punk is not a way of dressing, its not an excuse for drugs and sex, its not a way of hating everyone else. Its music, and I wish you would shut up.

yes this is the campaign



Two people resently told me they didn't want to hang out with me because I'm moving to new york in september. What? They think that I'm gonna ruin my life, that I'm going to be back in albany in a couple months dirt broke. I guess they may be right. But I doubt it. But even if they were right, that doen't justify thinking less of me, yelling at me when the subject comes up. What kind of friends are they, who can't get past the mistake they think I'm making. The truth is, come september things will never be the same. They won't get to hang out with me weather they want to or not, so why waist the time we have.

guns can't kill what soldiers can't see


Texas Serenade

I don't like drugs. I've done my best to convince myself that they are harmless if not abused, that if my friend wants to do it then more power to them. Thats bull shit. I come to realize this as every one of my friends start to use more. Because as their not doing it they're thinking about it, talking about it. Not so much that they need find some but they think the night would be so much better if they did. And it sticks me on the outside. I don't acutualy enjoy hanging out with intoxicated people, I find them all quite dull, devoid of personality, but I tell people I do because its better then being excluded and left at home. And its too artificial. Getting wasted means that who your with doesn't matter because everyones pretty much the same. Its a get out of jail free card for acualy talking to anyone. I hate with all my heart having to tell people I'm straight edge but I know that if I did do anything I would just crawl in the corner and greive over how fucked up it all is.

he's dead on the lawn of the house that he owned
what will they say about him?



I don't understand how someone could be a shrink. Someone who's job it is to pick apart someones character defects. I do that enough already when I'm in a misanthropic mood for it. Sometimes I cant see past their insecurity, their thoughtlessness, their vanity, their fear. Everyone is hideously distorted. They become monsters to me, they become gargoyles. I want to crawl into my garage spin a punk record and never talk to anyone again.

jesus died for somebodys sins but not mine


Radio Radio

This is a bit morbid. When I die I don't want a funeral. I don't want a casket. I don't want a tombstone. I want to get thrown into a river or the ground to be eaten by the worms. A nihilist curtain call. Burn my stuff, tare up my picture. Make it so I never existed. And don't fucking tell anyone I'm in a better place.

And now the necessary disclaimer. I'm not suicidal and don't plan on dieing any time for a number of years. Just the whole posthumous thing pisses me off.

"I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen, there's no reason to do this song here."


10 A.M. Automatic

I know I shouldn't like Oasis. Its one of those bands that chris jones would give me a look for. And I see from the indie pop kids point of view that why would you need the distorted shoegaze soundscape, it just covers up the emotions. And the rock point of view that there are more straight forward ways of getting your point across. And I see the punk point of view that the world is a very real place and your blind optimism and escapism, not to mention your poppy melodies, is irritating at best. Disgusting at worst. But I also I see the anger the fight. We are young and we don't have to do what you say. We' see the things they'll never see. Because you and I we're gonna live forever.

What about the night makes you change


Mind's Eye

Its crazy to think that I want to be depressed. And when I'm happy I'll swear to god that happy is the only way to be but when I'm down I don't see how I could be up. Because I know that my happiness is just increased avoidence. That to be up is just to keep busy and keep my mind on other things. And wile I enjoy it more I know its just deceiving myself. And that wile I'm killing myself when I'm depressed I see clearly and I know the truth and maybe that is more important.

I can see forever


Chemical World

Never read an entire book in one night. I have this tendency to do it often, usually about once a month. All it takes is a small burst of insomnia and a really really good book. Most recently, the night of memorial day, it was Phonogram, a comic book, maybe 200 pages, a one hour read if you take your time. It took me three hours, I slaved over every word. Its not a depressing book. Angry? yes. Obsessive? possibly. but not depressed. I've read it twice since. And somehow last tuesday I was off my up swing, angry, bordering on rage even, bitter, sarcastic, brooding, down. Insomnia. 'How come I end up where I started?' a radiohead lyric.

in a chemical world
its very very very cheap


Swords of Truth

An old guidance councilor trick is to ask "if you had a billion dollars, what would you do with your life". And your supposed to say "I would be a doctor", or "I would build skyscrapers." I would buy stuff. First music. Everything. I would own more than amoeba records and spend all day listening. Then movies and spend all day watching. And I'd buy a library and all day reading. I'd build a sound proof studio and spend all day making music. I'd spend my mornings in cafes, my nights at concerts, and my days with friends. And I'd never never work.

I'm writing on airwaves, I'm writing on the air, I'm writing on your memory


Archive of Pain

I have nothing but empathy. And in the day light I see you or anyone and thats my sister (brother, whatever) and shes the man. And did you know if she had to she would go to hell for you. And shes in this life alone where noones giving her a break and she thinks no one understands. But I understand and I may not know you but your my friend and I love you. But come night I see you and I know you. And you think no one understands but I understand you. And I know that you would fuck me over if you had the chance. And I see you lie and I see you cheat and I see you play your friends for nothing and I get you. And I hate you and I hate everything you stand for. Everything you've ever touched. And as you reflect on me I hate me.
But I guess I feel that way about everyone.

nail it to the house of lords
you will be buried in the same box as a killer


Reverend Black Grape

Tonight I will wright a good blog post that I have been seriously meaning to wright since sunday but have been to lazy to do so and don't have the time to do it now. So I'm just putting this up as a reminder.

kill the message
can I get a witness?



No one here gets out alive/and i don't mean you die but you die or you might as well/your john lennon/with the bullet or your paul mccartney with memory almost full/your sid vicious whos heart stopped or your johnny rotten whos anger stoped because everything kills you/everything you see will either crush your lungs or crush your spirit and leave you a shadow/and the only ones who are remembered as living are the ones in the grave/and is that best?/jim morreson only made it 27 years

we live in the shadow and we had the chance and threw it away
and its never gonna be the same


Don't Panic

Ten days ago the United States Postal Service stamp hit 42 cents. In other words I am going to put stamps Everywhere.
P. S. Sunday is Towel Day. For you see a towel is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitch hiker can have. Its also a kind of Douglas Adams memorial day. So be sure to have one with you.

everyone here's got somebody to lean on


My Favorite Things

theres a song the third track of beck's opus odelay and i think its called lord only knows and it starts with a beat and sharp migraine distortion and he fucking screams but then the guitar cuts out and the drums pick up and the song is a bit light and soft and sweet but it doesn't matter cause all you think about is that three second scream and thats kinda how i feel right now.

silver white winters that melt into springs
these are a few of my favorite things


I Woke Up Today

You may have heard but I'm gonna say it anyway. I might be getting out of here a little early. You see the rent has gone up and my mom is looking at this other place in albany for quite a bit cheaper. The catch is that its only two rooms instead of three. So to make up for that my mom has decided to kick me out. I'm almost defiantly not getting into albany high next year and she thinks that I'm waisting my time here. So I'm going to new york. I figure I'll get a job right a way and live in a dirt cheep place with a room mate or three with my mom sending me some of the money saved on rent. I can get by real cheep. And I'll go to community college in the afternoon to get the high school credits I need. Nothings final yet but I do hope this happens. I'll miss my friends here, particularly the three of you that read this blog. But at the same time I can't wait.

the way it glows
the way it always knows


I like unnamed artwork. It adds anonymity and interpretation and openness. Would Song 2 under the name "Pleased To Meet You" have been the same thing? Would Beethoven's fifth symphony have had the same impact as "Thunder in Eb"? To name it is to take ownership but leaving it anonymous is to give it to the people on the other end of the art. Elliot Smith gave an amount of songs numbers instead of names so that you didn't know what you were getting into until you herd it. Who can say if No Name No. 5 is a love song or an angry song until you've herd it. Led Zeppelin went even further and gave their fourth album no name at all. Manny people call it Led Zeppelin IV, others call ZOSO and Robert Plant says he just thinks of it as the fourth album. And that just works for me.



So I want to make a mix tape from the prompt talked about a couple posts down. So I got a nice 90 minute tape that would have cost me $5 had I not found it in my garage and I laid out all my music. But I've hit a problem. I don't have many love songs, and 90 minutes is longer than I'm used to. All I'm sure of so far is that the tape is gonna start with She Belongs To Me and end with I Want You, both by bob dylan. So, I need some help finding some more songs. If you know any that would fit let me know.

but I find its just begun


Daydream Believer

New song
Ask me to play it for you

The fighter (tentative title)

the fighter, he bruised my face
the fall is such a waist
and you just wanted to get away from this place

can you teach a man to fly
a hand to say goodbye
can you teach me to not ask why

there must be a matter or two
you must have know I was playing to loose
but there must be something the matter with me
I guess I'd have know you were going to leave

would you please not look me in the eyes
you never want to try
why do you keep me around each time I lie

oh, I could hide 'neath the wings
of the bluebird as she sings

We Will Become Silhouettes

Everything is broken. I like that phrase. Its from the first song on a radiohead album that came out about thirteen years ago and it sums up long term depression, the theme of the record, quite well. When your down you loose interest in what your doing and you run to something else. Computer, guitar, music, tv, video games, they all seem a bit empty. So you do nothing or you do something and pretend your having fun and you lash out at your friends and family for no reason and you go out of your mind. And what ever ends up happening it doesn't matter because everything is broken.

P.S. Does anyone want to come see Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin and Port O'Brian on wednesday for ten dollars?

and pictures of you and I'm not coming out
until this is all over


Where is My Mind?

Please do not tell me you don't like that song because its overplayed, or because those idiots like it, or because the lead singer is an asshole. Ok, I concede that when some moron raves about a track it becomes embarrassing but please, instead of saying "thats far from their best track, though" just say "your pretty dumb, could you just stop talking". Don't let them take that song, or that album, or that band from you. And how often do you listen to the radio anyway? For you overplayed means "herd about six people mention it". And anyway, are you really listening to music for social reasons? I thought you actually liked it. So do me a favor, pretend that no one else ever listened to it, pretend the band doesn't exist. I'm tired of your shit. Just here the fucking music.

your head will collapse but theres nothing in it
and you'll ask yourself, where is my mind?


I found this site called tiny mix tapes that give reviews and music news. More importantly they make mix tapes for you if you request. So I signed up to be one of the robots who create these tapes and I made one for a girl who wanted to let this quirky guy know she loves him and then I saw the one listed below. I would make hopeless a tape but three people already did. The request is just so incredible. I want a girl who looks sad over tea every morning.

You and I have never met, and at the risk of sounding creepy, I wanted to let you know that I love you, and that, even though you look sad over your tea every morning in the shop, you are beautiful.

Requested by: hopeless
Compiled by: Kate Lucksmith

01. Saturday Looks Good to Me - "Girl’s Distracted" (Every Night)
02. Oh No! Oh My! - "Oh Be One" (Between the Devil and the Sea)
03. The Modern Lovers - "I Wanna Sleep In Your Arms" (The Modern Lovers)
04. The Thompson Twins - "If You Were Here" (Sixteen Candles OMS)
05. Sondre Lerche - "My Hands are Shaking" (Dan In Real Life OMS)
06. Sambassadeur - "Do You See Me" (Between the Lines EP)
07. The Secret Stars - "Wait" (Wait / Riot Kill 7")
08. The 6ths - "You You You You You" (Pieces of April OMS)
09. Loveninjas - "Meet Me Here" (Secret of the Loveninjas)
10. The Rentals - "The Love I’m Searching For" (Return of the Rentals)
11. Fran├žoise Hardy ft. Iggy Pop- "I’ll Be Seeing You" (Clair Obscur)
12. Tullycraft - "Glitter and Twang" (Beat Surf Sun)
13. Jens Lekman - "Kanske Ar Jag Kar I Dig" (Night Falls Over Kortedala)
14. Goldenboy - "Kittens of Lust" (Blue Swan Orchestra)
15. Beat Happening - "Tiger Trap" (You Turn Me On)

Compiled by: crackosaurs

01. The Books- "A True Story of a Story of True Love" (The Lemon of Pink)
02. Bright Eyes- "Puella Quam Amo Est Pulchra" (A Collection of Songs Written & Recorded 1995-1997)
03. Ariel Pink- "Among Dreams" (The Doldrums)
04. Mirah- "Words Cannot Describe" (You Think It’s Like This, But Really It’s Like This)
05. Adam Green- "Who’s Your Boyfriend?" (Gemstones)
06. Devotchka- "Something Stupid" (Curse Your Little Heart)
07. Devendra Banhart- "A Ribbon" (Nino Rojo)
08. Sufjan Stevens- "To Be Alone With You" (Seven Swans)
09. The Flaming Lips- "Do You Realize?" (Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots)

Compiled by: Blackfoliage

01. Masters of the Hemisphere - "All Your Winning Numbers" (Protest A Dark Anniversary)
02. Yo La Tengo - "Season of the Shark" (Summer Sun)
03. The Clientele - "Here Comes The Phantom" (God Save the Clientele)
04. Jonathan Richman - "Her Mystery Not of High Heels and Eye Shadow" (Her Mystery Not of High Heels and Eye Shadow)
05. The Sunshine Fix - "Digging To China" (Age of the Sun)
06. The Gerbils - "Crayon Box" (Are You Sleepy)
07. Jens Lekman - "Rocky Dennis’ Farewell Song" (Oh You’re So Silent Jens)
08. The Zombies - "A Rose for Emily" (Odessey & Oracle)
09. The Olivia Tremor Control - "Marking Time" (Music From An Unrealized Film Script: Dusk At Cubist Castle)
10. Devendra Banhart - "Queen Bee" (Cripple Crow)
11. Belle & Sebastian - "Winter Wooskie" (Push Barman To Open Old Wounds)
12. The Sixths - "As You Turn To Go" (Hyacinths & Thistles)

you'll never believe me what I found
think I'd better follow you around


Death By Misadventure

Ok, Heres the idea

somewhere around 7 or 8 pm, soon after magic hour when its light enough to get a good shot but late enough that not many cars are zooming around albany. I walk out of my garage, take a right, look both ways down the street then down at my shadow, there are no cars on the street. I take the immediate left and cross key route. I see a silhouette of a man in front of the apartment building that is across from the middle school and as I get closer he turns to look at me and then runs into the building. I keep walking, past the building, and as I start to cross masonic a light washes out the left side of the screen. I turn to look left and see the headlights of a car rushing at me. It doesnt take long until the light takes up the whole screen and the movie ends. This is all shot form my first person perspective such that you never see me, just my outline in my shadow.

As per sound we have three options
1. Set it to music. My first thought was airbag by radiohead, Adrian suggested something by Godspeed! but I would have to listen to it first
2. No music but you here the sound of my foot steps and the ones of the man who runs into the apartment. The car I would still leave silent
3. Complete silence.

What it would require:
A camera - I've been spoiled by the ones from sfsu and might still be able to borrow one, hopefully would not have to settle for a camcorder
A crew - At least four people other then me who are orginized and willing to do what I say, one of who could drive
A car - any kind
Some mics if we want to do the footstep idea

It would only take an hour or less to shoot and could turn out really well

surprise again
your right again


Life Being What It Is

Jackie made me realize today how I hang out with people I hate. My first thought was how horrible this is. How could I possibly speak badly behind their back and then go talk to them as if everythings alright? And even worse some of these people I actually despise. Everything they stand for makes me sick. So what do I do. The honest thing to do would be to make a clean cut and stop talking to them all together. But could I really live with three friends? I've seen some people who have already done this and the results are not pretty. They turn out more isolated and bitter. And though at the end of the day I hate these people I hang out with, while I'm with them I have fun and dont mind them. Or if I do then I leave or go to sleep and no ones the worse for it. And though the truth is I can't forgive them ultimately, maybe theres ethics in immediate acceptance.

50 posts.

and if you turned it on you'd find
I've written you a thousand times


Walk On The Wild Side

The biggest fuck yous in rock and roll

Bob Dylan - Like a Rolling Stone and Self Portrait
Lou Reed - Metal Machine Music
Nirvana - In Utero
Radiohead - Kid A

Fans rally around angry bands because it is human to attack the hypocritical corrupt mainstream. But to attack the hypocritical corrupt fans who have made you famous, divine.

Fuck Andy Warhol

thought she was james dean for a day


Trippin' On A Hole In A Papper Heart

I hate when people tell me 'don't do that, thats cliche'. Don't get me wrong, I understand where they're coming from. But to me they fall into the 'don't where converce because everyone does' crowd, or the 'I won't listen to arctic monkeys, they are over hyped' crowd. These people detest those who just follow trends, who loose they're free will and just do what their peers do. But if you don't do something just because your peers do isn't that a loss of free will too? If you don't realy care for converse but you wear them because everyone else does, thats no good. But if you like converse and stop wearing them because everyone else started then everyone else just chose your footwear. The trick is to wear what You like and listen to what You want to listen to. Just because idiots like it doesn't make it idiotic. Forget about all of them. Everything is cliche.

i'm not dead and i'm not for sale


In My Eyes

you tell me you like the taste
You Just Need An Excuse
you tell me it calms your nerves
You Just Think It Looks Cool
you tell me you want to be different
You Just Change For The Same
you tell me its only natural
You Just Need The Proof
Did You Fucking Get It?

Its in my eyes!
and it Doesn't Look That Way To Me
In My Eyes

you tell me nothing matters
You're Just Fucking Scared
you tell me that your better
You Just Hate Your Self
you tell me that you like her
You Just Wish You Did
you tell me that i make no difference
At Least I'm Fucking Trying
What The Fuck Have You Done?

Its in my eyes!
and it Doesn't Look That Way To ME
In My Eyes
-words by Ian MacKaye

happy 420


Midnight Show

Do you ever feel like you want to scream for until you face turns blue and you eyes peel back and you vocal chords break just to get all the screaming out. Have you ever felt that eight hours of sleep isnt enough and that twelve hours of sleep isn't enough and that even though your body wont let you do it your sure that that twenty four wouldn't be enough and that you want to sleep for a month or six or a year. Do you ever want to do something destructive just so you have a good reason to hate yourself.

i took my babys heart beneath the chandelier
of stars and atmosphere
and watched it disappeared


Breaking the Girl

Mix 4/10 and 4/18

Side A
Way To Blue - Nick Drake
Leave Before the Lights Come On - Arctic Monkeys
Ventilator Blues - The Rolling Stones
The Day I Tried To Live - SoundGarden
Crown of Love - Arcade Fire
Blueprint - Fugazi
Jimmy Jazz - The Clash
Political World - Bob Dylan

Side B
Yer Blues - The Beatles
Doin' The Cockroach - Modest Mouse
Drive - R.E.M.
Bones - Radiohead
Love Buzz - Nirvana
Manic Depression - The Jimi Hendrix Experience
Black Wave - The Shins
Breaking the Girl - Red Hot Chili Peppers

she meant you no harm



Charles Foster Kane: You know, Mr. Bernstein, if I hadn't been very rich, I might have been a really great man.
Walter Parks Thatcher: Don't you think you are?
Charles: I think I did pretty well under the circumstances.
Walter: What would you like to have been?
Charles: Everything you hate.

I've always thought this sumed up what it is to be punk (green day can go fuck themselves). Its the thing when an audience member yelled out 'judas' and dylan tuned and told his band to play fucking loud. Punk rock at its best is destruction to create and its honesty and its freedom. Unfortunately it doesn't usually get there.

p.s. 42 posts this year. party.

we aint no sect
no this aint no fucking faction


Universe & U

Next saturday is national record store day. A day where I plan to wake up bright and early, pack as much money as I can find into my pockets, grab my long list of albums I need, and go store hopping (after breakfast at the cafe). Theres going to be give aways and bands playing and even the once front man of the dead kennedys manning the counter at amoeba sf. http://www.recordstoreday.com/
P.S. the Adam Duritz quote is quite long but he talks about amoeba and mod lang so its worth it.

kt Tunstall
"Independent record stores are like a casino where you put down your money and you always win. How amazing to discover gems you didn't know about, to meet someone more passionate than you are, and to feel at home in a place you may never have been to before. I'm convinced they will never lose their place - Long may they rule."

Fat Mike (NOFX)
"If it wasn't for independent record stores, I would be a San Fernando valley real estate agent."

Adam Duritz (Counting Crows)
“I feel like I spent most of my life wandering the aisles of record stores. I used to love going to Amoeba when our guitar player Immy worked there and hanging out all day talking about records. I think that's what finally got him fired; there were always people trailing around after him cluttering up the store trying to soak up the Immerwisdom. Actually, now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure it was when some kid came up to the cash register with a pile of records and Immy, who was sitting on top of the counter at the time, grabbed the pile, perused it, threw most of them to the side and said something like, "Forget these, you don't need them. These two are really good, that one is great. Now go to that rack over there and grab the new Gang of Four and the Pere Ubu album. That's all you need." It probably would've been cool if the manager hadn't walked up behind him just before he did it. Oh well.

The great thing about the best record stores is that the people who work there, like Immy, love music. They love to listen to it and they love to talk about it and they love to introduce other people to it. My favorite record stores in the world reside together on either side of a tiny storefront in Blenheim Crescent, just off the Portobello Rd in London. Minus Zero and Stand Out Records face each other across a three foot aisle and Bill Allerton and Bill Forsyth stand on either side of the aisle enthusiastically competing to play some of the best music you've never heard for anyone who dares come inside. Immy and I were directed there by friends at Mod Lang records in Berkeley (another stellar shop). They're only open a few days a week and they weren't open when we got there. Still, Bill A let us in. Four hours later, we staggered out under the weight of shopping bags full of obscure records by bands we loved but mostly by ones we'd never heard of. Bill A just played us record after record after record of amazing music and we soaked it up. We came back the next day to meet Bill F and it happened all over again. We literally had to buy extra suitcases. Now we're junkies. We never go to London without leaving at least 4-5 hours free to visit Blenheim Crescent and we NEVER go to London without an extra suitcase. I heard half of my favorite bands for the first time inside that little shop.

The fact is that there will always be good music. The only question really is how are we ever going to learn about it without guys like Bill Allerton and Bill Forsyth to play it for us.”

Nick Hornby, author, High Fidelity, Slam, (among others)
"Yes, yes, I know. It's easier to download music, and probably cheaper. But what's playing on your favourite download store when you walk into it? Nothing, that's what. Who are you going to meet in there? Nobody. Where are the notice boards offering flatshares and vacant slots in bands destined for superstardom? Who's going to tell you to stop listening to that and start listening to this? Go ahead and save yourself a couple of quid. The saving will cost you a career, a set of cool friends, musical taste and, eventually, your soul. Record stores can't save your life. But they can give you a better one."

Ian Gillan (Deep Purple)
"Buy real records in real shops, or I'll come round your house and scream at your mother.”

Wayne Coyne (The Flaming Lips)
"The 'cool' record store. It is where you can talk to people who are like you. They look like you, think like you and, most tellingly like the same music as you - the only comparable experience these days would probably be an art museum - an actual place where you can stand and simply be surrounded by your heroes."

you know I tell the truth
we are just the same


Lost in the Supermarket

I'm on the retreat and we had to take off our shoes for one activity or another and the girl next to me was upset that here feet were gross because she stepped in a muddy puddle with her flip flops. I couldn't tell really. She was disgusted by my socks because they were a bit brown. I explained that I had walked around in them without my shoes for a wile and that I hadn't asked to take off my shoes after all but she wouldn't get off it. I thought life is gonna hit her like a steam train but I guess it might not beautiful people can get away with anything. Then today after I got back I was at a recycling booth in berkeley and saw homeless and poor people screaming at each other for no reason. Someones gonna hit me for repeating the cliche of what ever doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I've always thought whatever doesn't traumatize you makes you better. So there was the clean freak who was too sheltered and the sad people who had been thrown into the world and were no better for it. So is there anyway to be thrown into the world and survive it without being traumatized. And whats the healthy medium.

I wasn't born so much as I fell out



eight things that were bad about that were bad about that east bay express article about teenage bands.
  1. kisses the ass of the bands for five pages
  2. fundamentally misunderstands what it is to be a rock band
  3. interview the parents
  4. tells us nothing about the music
  5. only takes stupid quotes from the bands
  6. compares them to the likes of the backstreet boys and hannah montana
  7. overly focused on the age of the bands
  8. thought of high school bands as a new phenomenon
I'm away for the weekend. See ya later.

what do you do when you get lonely?


Bitter Sweet Symphony

$17.50 in an hour and a half and it smells sweet. As is shouting out songs into the street. And as I sing Like a Rolling Stone "how does it feel?" some kids walk by yelling "I feel it" and "this guys my brother!". And tourists sitting next to me and taking a picture. and old ladys warning me that someone might mug me for the monney in my guitar case. and cute chicks in blue shirts pointing from across the way and making the eyes at me and taking pictures. and talking to an african drum maker about busking. And seeing people stare at my case witch states "this machine kills fascists". and feeling like you made a million bucks instead of seventeen. Why would anyone get a real job?

I let the melody shine
let it cleanse my mind

The Distance

the truth is painful and depressing and aggressive and destructive and potentially meaningless but I have to believe its more important and that its always better to know.

Hes going the distance
Hes going for speed


What Is and What Never Should Be

new song, this time theres a tune and guitar part and all. I'm not sure if its quite finished yet though.

You want me
No you don't
You mean something
I don't know
A can of arsenic
To get me off of your toes

Do you want me
I should go
You are not me
Or did I show
A creep with pasty heart
And made of gold

A creep with pasty heart
Growing mold

if you say to me tomorow
take my hand child come with me


Radio Song

Bob Dylan is sitting somewhere in manhattan with his guitar. Its 1962. His friends have herd him play before but only other peoples songs. Woody Guthrie, Pete Seeger, get him a little drunk and you drag an Elvis tune out of him. So for the first time he plays an original composition, lets say Its Alright Ma (I'm Only Bleeding), but he really could have played them anything. They tell him 10 things
  1. It makes no sense
  2. I barely has a tune
  3. You sound like you swallowed a toad
  4. Its melodramatic and cheesy
  5. Its a real downer
  6. Its gos on for ages
  7. Its a strange bastard child of rock and folk
  8. It doesn't rhyme
  9. Stick to your woody guthrie
  10. Your names bobby zimmerman
Don't give up

the world is collapsing around our ears


Blues From a Gun

Today was a good day. It was a good day. I had a great breakfast at cafeina. I played guitar for two hours. I hoped a train into berekely and got two clasic records that had previously alluded me. I saw a good play and some people I rarely see. After that me and jack caught a buss into berkeley, grabed dinner and hung out until midnight.
But I also had a horrible day where things lacked significance and I just struggled to get out of my head for a moment.

dreams of escape keep me awake
i'm never gonna get out and make it anyway


Round Here

Thy fingers make early flowers of
all things.
they hair mostly the hours love:
a smoothness which
sings, saying
(though love be a day)
do not fear, we will go amaying.

thy whitest feet crisply are straying.
they moist eyes are at kisses playing,
whose strangeness much
says; singing
(though love be a day)
for which girl art thou flowers bringing?

To be thy lips is a sweet thing
and small.
Death, Thee i call rich beyond wishing
if this thou catch,
else missing.
(though love be a day
and life be nothing, it shall not stop kissing).

-e. e. cummings (1923)

if I ever had the chance to woo a girl with poetry this would be the one.

she says she's tired of life
she must be tired of something


Settle For Nothing

not many people could tell you that The Shins' Wincing the Night Away is a concept album. It begins with his insomnia in Sleeping Lesson, where he spends too much time thinking and being lonely and reading philosophy books. He rejects religion and society in general and gos out. He meets a girl in Australia and begins to tell her about philosophy but warns her that she would be damned to fall into the dodo's or the android's conundrum, (wings without flight, life without living). But in the end he decides to tell her anyway, and they "jump out the window" together. Pam Berry is too short to derive much meaning from and Phantom Limb is the story of a couple lesbians in a small town and has little or nothing to do with the plot, so on to Sea Legs. The next day our guy is falling in love with the girl (or wishes he was) and he realizes that come nightfall ("when the dead moon rises again") hes gonna start thinking again. He knows that he'll infect her with his grim point of view and their love will be doomed. Flip the record. Night again, they're getting deeper and popping some pills out of "gunny sack for Red Rabbits" (possibly a reference to alice in wonderland's rabbit hole). He doesn't want to think about his outlook on life and doesn't want to talk about it but she wants to know. In Turn On Me, though she tries to hide it, the relationship is failing. And he blames her. He tells himself he doesn't need her, that hes just fond of her. And at the end of the song he sets her loose. But he doesn't feel a relese for breaking up with her and in Black Wave he feels so lonely and he dwells on it. Split Needles is a turning point as he realizes that this fall from religion into nihilism has destroied who he is. He can no longer interact with the world around him and he thinks that maybe he should never had gone down the path that started in sleeping lessons. The night is probably ending by the time Girl Sailer comes on and he is awakening from his anger and resentment. He reflects on his resent romance and sees that he had a big effect on this girl, for better or for worse. She is probably in the same experience he had in the last two songs, she cant escape it. But he also knows that he wasn't in charge of her experience, being really "just a passenger", and he begs her to keep on, "sail it, don't sink it". In A Comet Appears he sun is rising and he sees a comet hurling through space. He thinks about how the earth is just hurling through space with people trying to hold on. The entire time he has though himself as Nietzsche's uber-man, above society, above regular human emotion, and now he sees that he is nothing of the sort. But he knows that, just as Nietzsche worked so hard against, he has become numb and nihilistic. I am amazed at how much this reflects me, right down to the book I'm reading right now, and it is among the most amazing albums I have ever come across.

read my writing on the wall
no ones gonna catch me when I fall
death is on my side



I think that irony is the lowest form of humor. But people seem to love it. Its what allowed scary movie I, II, III, and IV to make so much money. And it thrives because its easy. I takes no more skill then repeating what someone said in a mocking voice. Last year it became fashionable to praise boy bands in an ironic sense. But at some point it gets too 'I get it, haha, now can you turn off that fucking music'. Hipsters quietly enjoy irony to such an extent that almost everything they do loses meaning, being just a small joke on something else.

and that blood is in my head
then thank god that I'm as good as dead


God Save The Queen

A couple weeks ago I was riding in the car with my mother and one of her co-workers. Because the oscars were approaching we passed the time talking about movies. I mentioned that No Country For Old Men was defiantly going to win best picture. Me and my mom highly recommended the film and sighted it as one of the best new movies we had seen in ages. My mother's associate said that she herd it was good but wasn't sure if she wanted to see it because it looked like a dark film. She didn't like dark things. I noticed that I immediately and without a thought was done with her. Nothing she said after that mattered to me in the least because of that statement. What I mean to say is though I sure that people who don't like dark things have fulfilling and happy lives. But they have nothing to say that matters to me. The world is a dark real place and anyone who doesn't want to see that doesn't want to know the truth. And I have no use for them.

no future


Shut the Door

He types in the search box and notices the the type line doesn't move as the letter appear. He types his selection backwards to compensate. He has a head ache. He watches a short animation on radiohead's fitter happier witch bothers him more than he thinks it should. He starts to type something else in the search box but it comes out backwards. He hits the windows key and then escape. He presses the f1 key and then closes the help window that opens up. He presses f2 and a different search bar appears. He hits the x on it many times but instead of closing it makes a loud beeping noise. He has a big headache. A warning box pops up. He closes firefox, gets up, and gos to sleep.

shes not breathing!


River Man

I never seem to notice anything. Its become somewhat of a joke among my friends, how I don't know whats going on around me, how I'm off and on in weird intervals, how I fall asleep at parties.
I don't realy see the humor in it. But, though no one else has comented on this ocurance, I feel that its getting worse. I'm starting to confuse yesterday with the day before with the day before. Things that happoned to me months or years ago tend to apear in my head and envelop me in thought. It seems like I'll go places to see people and then I'll talk to them very little. I'll try as hard as I can to make conversation but my mind will be pulling me somewhere else far away. I'm trying.

If he tells me all he knows
about the way his river flows
I don't suppose
its meant for me


The Only Living Boy in New York

Traditionaly a mix tape is suposed to be a sign of friendship, or a way of wooing girls. But I have no friends with tape decks and no girls I'm chaseing after who would apreciate it. So I mainly make tapes for myself. And though this apears to defeat the purpos it works for me. Its a way of theropy. I usualy start out with a purpose but I soon abandon it half way through and just start putting on what ever song feels like it should come next. When I look at the tape the next day its always something that I didn't expect, and its somewhat insightful. Last November I started a tape about depression and ended up telling myself to cheer up. In December I made one that began as a whole bunch of fun songs and finished as something altogether darker. So yesterday was one of the worst days I've had in a wile so I made another. Let me know if you want a copy on cd.

Mix 3/12/08

Side A:
Like Suicide (acoustic) - Soundgarden
What if You Were Right the First Time? - Arctic Monkeys
Love in Vain - Robert Johnson
Videotape - Radiohead
Paper Cuts - Nirvana
You Can't Always Get What You Want - The Rolling Stones
Angeles - Elliott Smith

Side B:
The Birth and Death of the Day [abridged] - Explosions in the Sky
Round Here - Counting Crows
Eclipse - Pink Floyd
It Ain't Me Babe - Bob Dylan
You've Got to Hide Your Love Away - The Beatles
The Only Living Boy in New York - Simon and Garfunkel
Midnight Show - The Killers
Love, Reign O'er Me - The Who

Hey, let your honesty shine, shine, shine
Like it shines on me



JambaSwirl (10:28:30 PM): i commented on your "The End" post again
JambaSwirl (10:28:37 PM): read it
SollyS3 (10:30:16 PM): I disagree
SollyS3 (10:30:24 PM): I think the halves are verry related
JambaSwirl (10:30:33 PM): your wrong
JambaSwirl (10:30:36 PM): cause i disproved you
JambaSwirl (10:30:39 PM): using textual evidence
SollyS3 (10:31:22 PM): you disprovd me?
JambaSwirl (10:31:50 PM): the first half questions whether it is better to do what is moral under consequence, or to go along and be happy
SollyS3 (10:32:14 PM): but look at the case in 1984
JambaSwirl (10:32:25 PM): the second half is questioning whether it is better to do what you believe in (and feel miserable) or play commercial tunes (and still feel miserable)
SollyS3 (10:32:29 PM): if he escaped torchure and was "happy"
SollyS3 (10:32:41 PM): then he would be miserable for selling out his ideals
SollyS3 (10:32:51 PM): so its the same case
JambaSwirl (10:32:59 PM): no
JambaSwirl (10:33:03 PM): the musician makes music for himself
JambaSwirl (10:33:08 PM): you said that yourself
SollyS3 (10:33:34 PM): the musician makes music for himself and starves
SollyS3 (10:33:52 PM): he makes great music and wallows on the street
SollyS3 (10:34:02 PM): he is john lennon the bum
JambaSwirl (10:34:25 PM): yeah, so? in 1984, the guy is miserable after he sells himself out too
JambaSwirl (10:34:31 PM): so that means in BOTH
JambaSwirl (10:34:35 PM): they end up miserable
JambaSwirl (10:35:01 PM): so there its just which one you choose in the end
SollyS3 (10:35:16 PM): but would you rather be miserable by starving or miserable by conscience?
JambaSwirl (10:35:24 PM): starving
JambaSwirl (10:35:32 PM): physical pains are easy to deal with
SollyS3 (10:35:35 PM): miserable by tourcher or miserable by regret?
JambaSwirl (10:35:35 PM): in comparison
JambaSwirl (10:35:44 PM): no im regarding your second arguement
JambaSwirl (10:35:49 PM): take it into reality
JambaSwirl (10:35:57 PM): the first one would obviously a much more difficult choice
SollyS3 (10:36:02 PM): they are the same thing to me
JambaSwirl (10:36:07 PM): no
JambaSwirl (10:36:12 PM): the second arguement is all up to the starving musician
SollyS3 (10:36:17 PM): have you ever been starving?
JambaSwirl (10:36:27 PM): the first arguement is about forced torture
SollyS3 (10:36:37 PM): when you knew that all you had to do was make pop music and be rich?
SollyS3 (10:36:47 PM): you'd be rich
SollyS3 (10:36:58 PM): but instead your dieing on the street
SollyS3 (10:37:05 PM): and nobody cares about you
SollyS3 (10:37:20 PM): if you died you wouldn't even get a grave
JambaSwirl (10:37:24 PM): i know your arguing the extremeties but if i was a guy
JambaSwirl (10:37:30 PM): that was a starving musician, and genius
JambaSwirl (10:37:38 PM): i wouldn't be a fucking idiot and be a studio musician to get money
SollyS3 (10:37:51 PM): wile if you sold out you'd have 200 people at your funeral
SollyS3 (10:37:53 PM): I know
JambaSwirl (10:37:56 PM): i mean, i would be a studio musician
JambaSwirl (10:38:07 PM): not just some idiot starving even though he can help people with his skills
JambaSwirl (10:38:13 PM): in the form of studio playing
SollyS3 (10:38:44 PM): but you go to people at the studio and they'd turn you away
JambaSwirl (10:38:47 PM): there are so many more options for the musician than the guy who's gonna get tortured
SollyS3 (10:38:55 PM): becase you had no monny to pay them with
SollyS3 (10:39:07 PM): and no record lable would pick you up
JambaSwirl (10:39:09 PM): what the fuck are you talking about, people pay you to play for them
JambaSwirl (10:39:14 PM): studio musicians just play their instrument
SollyS3 (10:39:40 PM): thats true
SollyS3 (10:39:45 PM): but what about you?
SollyS3 (10:39:53 PM): You couldn't be a studio musician
JambaSwirl (10:39:56 PM): why not
JambaSwirl (10:39:58 PM): no theory?
SollyS3 (10:40:08 PM): you have too unconventional tenchnique
SollyS3 (10:40:20 PM): if they told you to play blues you couldn't
SollyS3 (10:40:32 PM): if they told you to do a heavy mettle solo you couldn't
JambaSwirl (10:40:41 PM): there are plenty of different places that want different things
JambaSwirl (10:40:52 PM): i'd just sell my skills to somewhere that COULD use them
JambaSwirl (10:41:06 PM): and by the time im out on the streets, i'll have the technical ability to play blues or heavy metal
SollyS3 (10:41:18 PM): I don't think so
SollyS3 (10:41:40 PM): I realy don't think you'll ever be able to play blues
SollyS3 (10:41:54 PM): Just like I'll never be able to play clisical
SollyS3 (10:41:57 PM): or flaminco
JambaSwirl (10:42:00 PM): dude, those techniques (technical wise) would take me like 3 months to learn most of it
SollyS3 (10:42:06 PM): bull
JambaSwirl (10:42:06 PM): and what are you talking about "i couldn't play blues"
JambaSwirl (10:42:22 PM): if you wanted to learn classical or flamenco you could
SollyS3 (10:42:54 PM): what ever, it was a bad example
SollyS3 (10:42:56 PM): how about this
SollyS3 (10:43:03 PM): a indie film director
JambaSwirl (10:43:07 PM): if your going to give me bullshit like "your not a blues man, you don't feel the blues" cause if its about fucking feeling then there's definetely no problem
SollyS3 (10:43:34 PM): who could either make the films that he feels are his art form and starve on the streets
SollyS3 (10:44:08 PM): or make comercial films for a television company and make money
SollyS3 (10:44:37 PM): what do you do?
JambaSwirl (10:44:58 PM): do the same thing, work with my studio abilites
JambaSwirl (10:45:01 PM): camera man, etc.
SollyS3 (10:45:19 PM): if your a director then you don't know how to work a camera
SollyS3 (10:45:24 PM): totaly different job
JambaSwirl (10:45:34 PM): i'd probably not give up right
JambaSwirl (10:45:38 PM): but get a regular job
JambaSwirl (10:45:41 PM): thats not relating to my art
JambaSwirl (10:45:44 PM): but still keep on doing my art
JambaSwirl (10:45:53 PM): see, for the guy in 1984 , he didn't have options
JambaSwirl (10:45:56 PM): it was one or another
SollyS3 (10:46:36 PM): but how can you be content makeing films that no one would see?
SollyS3 (10:46:44 PM): that would never be in any theaters
JambaSwirl (10:46:46 PM): you would work for that
JambaSwirl (10:46:52 PM): keep on keeping on
JambaSwirl (10:47:19 PM): while you worked your second job
JambaSwirl (10:47:23 PM): i mean think about it, im gonna be doing that
SollyS3 (10:47:45 PM): and you'd struggle and work in obsurity and do the second job you hated when you know that if you just did something that would sell you make a million
SollyS3 (10:47:50 PM): you'd win an oscar
JambaSwirl (10:48:00 PM): dude i could think that right now
JambaSwirl (10:48:04 PM): i could convert my style
JambaSwirl (10:48:07 PM): i could learn theory
JambaSwirl (10:48:09 PM): but i don't
SollyS3 (10:48:36 PM): theory isn't selling out, you jackass
JambaSwirl (10:49:02 PM): wrong example
JambaSwirl (10:49:14 PM): that was just an emphasis on the fact that i can learn standard techniques and sounds
JambaSwirl (10:49:54 PM): and be concrete in the standard way
SollyS3 (10:50:16 PM): what ever
SollyS3 (10:50:23 PM): the example isn't the point
JambaSwirl (10:50:32 PM): you just dodged your arguemtn through an example that wasn't the ponit
SollyS3 (10:50:56 PM): the example was just trying to ilustrate the question
SollyS3 (10:51:06 PM): but they odviosly weren't adiquit
JambaSwirl (10:51:56 PM): say it without examples
SollyS3 (10:51:57 PM): the point is the question of "would you rather do what you feel is right and be miserable or do what you feel is wrong and be happy"
SollyS3 (10:52:07 PM): would you rather be right or happy
SollyS3 (10:52:35 PM): the first example of 1984 did a better job of saying it
JambaSwirl (10:52:54 PM): happy. humans are known for their arrogance and standing up for what you think is right is not a solution to anything, especially if the case is that nobody saw you and you knew that nobody would.
JambaSwirl (10:53:16 PM): especially since one individual is so insignifigant why would you waste your time trying to be right just like an arrogant headstrong human
SollyS3 (10:54:21 PM): and individual may be insignificant to the world but not to the individual. I mean nothing to everybody else but I mean everything to me
SollyS3 (10:54:39 PM): and me doing the right thing means a lot to me
JambaSwirl (10:54:43 PM): yes thats why its so headstrong
SollyS3 (10:54:51 PM): I wouldn't sell that out
JambaSwirl (10:55:14 PM): i probably would compromise somewhat
SollyS3 (10:55:23 PM): I don't know how I would answer that question to tell the truth
JambaSwirl (10:55:24 PM): i never take extreme sides like this
JambaSwirl (10:55:32 PM): you always write blog posts that are questions
JambaSwirl (10:55:41 PM): and don't answer them
SollyS3 (10:55:48 PM): so?
JambaSwirl (10:55:58 PM): what for
SollyS3 (10:56:06 PM): they are big abstract questions not ment to be answered
SollyS3 (10:56:10 PM): ment to be thought about
JambaSwirl (10:56:22 PM): thinking is overrated
SollyS3 (10:56:28 PM): bull shit
SollyS3 (10:56:38 PM): thinking is all we have

yo soy un disco quebrado
yo tengo chicle en el cerebro