Trying to distill some thoughts into fine precise short statements that have some universal truth. But rather than getting down with that I decided to get involved with this old mess.
A few new songs for the 21TR... A bit of a different sound. I was talking to somebody saying how I am trying to get into some folk festivals and I got this statement "If you were going to change the type of music you are playing why not go with an alt-country... It should be really big out there in B.C.".
How to even reply?
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Saturday, March 25, 2006
A Blazer blogaroo
No time for anything... But that's not true. The problem is with the management and effective use of time.
Today I will write song... Yes indeed I will go down to the sanctuary and manufacture 1 hit song.
What is "one hit song"?
Answer: an unfortunate and wildly inappropriate introduction into the psyche of a songwriters mind.
Skip the workout... Must do back exercises when writing the lyrics.
Only have 1 part... WB should be silently enraged enough to find the gusto to write a nice 8 part bridge in the middle to give it a little motion, and voila...
I was actually going to end that bit by reproducing a three word fiasco that occurred earlier where the control of the mind went into the dark caverns of the abyss.
Next thought:
A pick is red
argument:
That is a direct description of an object on the desk at 2 o'clock... And not a thought.
Reply:
Thanks for helping me out there spares.
This is the chronicles where it is react or die.
REACT or DIE:
Brock said that after the last supper show... Possibly referring to being shoved on stage from the drums, given an acoustic guitar and a full band who are just as quickly adjusting to the new developments.
Indeed.
The Chronicles have the advantage of time so it remains disappointing that that advantage is not utilized. (note the use of "that that"... Very disturbing visually. It looks like a large black Raven of death making all of the other typed words seem like low grade bird seed).
**** It should be noted that low grade bird seed would be the kind heavy with Millet.
I remember eating some Millet from a bird seed bag when I was a young lad. I don't know why we had it because we always fed the birds the good stuff. Niger, top grade sunflower seeds... We wanted to see the birds, and we felt that with all the habitat loss due to our city (Toronto). These were my Fathers ideas... Who also happens to be a man with a healthy paranoia of disease and parasites. "Oh Don't eat that Mark whatever you do... That is full of all kinds of parasites... Now you haven't eaten any have you" (look of grave concern)
Now you have to answer No to that.
Or at least that was the answer that came to mind or at least came out of my mouth to be followed with a quick "what would happen if I were to be so foolish enough to eat some of that".
I got my first indepth analysis of bird hygiene safety with respect to keeping cross specie diseases at a minimum.
Interesting that the world is on the brink of an avian flu pandemic. And then one could say perhaps interesting that Dad was complaining that he inhaled some birdfeed dust the other week. Word has it that he got nailed with a quick windchange.
Today I will write song... Yes indeed I will go down to the sanctuary and manufacture 1 hit song.
What is "one hit song"?
Answer: an unfortunate and wildly inappropriate introduction into the psyche of a songwriters mind.
Skip the workout... Must do back exercises when writing the lyrics.
Only have 1 part... WB should be silently enraged enough to find the gusto to write a nice 8 part bridge in the middle to give it a little motion, and voila...
I was actually going to end that bit by reproducing a three word fiasco that occurred earlier where the control of the mind went into the dark caverns of the abyss.
Next thought:
A pick is red
argument:
That is a direct description of an object on the desk at 2 o'clock... And not a thought.
Reply:
Thanks for helping me out there spares.
This is the chronicles where it is react or die.
REACT or DIE:
Brock said that after the last supper show... Possibly referring to being shoved on stage from the drums, given an acoustic guitar and a full band who are just as quickly adjusting to the new developments.
Indeed.
The Chronicles have the advantage of time so it remains disappointing that that advantage is not utilized. (note the use of "that that"... Very disturbing visually. It looks like a large black Raven of death making all of the other typed words seem like low grade bird seed).
**** It should be noted that low grade bird seed would be the kind heavy with Millet.
I remember eating some Millet from a bird seed bag when I was a young lad. I don't know why we had it because we always fed the birds the good stuff. Niger, top grade sunflower seeds... We wanted to see the birds, and we felt that with all the habitat loss due to our city (Toronto). These were my Fathers ideas... Who also happens to be a man with a healthy paranoia of disease and parasites. "Oh Don't eat that Mark whatever you do... That is full of all kinds of parasites... Now you haven't eaten any have you" (look of grave concern)
Now you have to answer No to that.
Or at least that was the answer that came to mind or at least came out of my mouth to be followed with a quick "what would happen if I were to be so foolish enough to eat some of that".
I got my first indepth analysis of bird hygiene safety with respect to keeping cross specie diseases at a minimum.
Interesting that the world is on the brink of an avian flu pandemic. And then one could say perhaps interesting that Dad was complaining that he inhaled some birdfeed dust the other week. Word has it that he got nailed with a quick windchange.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
The next Sunday
Looking at "ye old blog" I noticed that the last blogaroo was last Sunday and this is this Sunday, so hence the title "The Next Sunday".
We were at the Library the other day getting some children's books and one had a cassette tape with it. It wasn't until my darling CT got to the checkout that she noticed that it was a tape and not a CD. She said "Oh shoot, That's not a CD... Hey MR do we have a cassette player?"
But the big news came with last night's 21 TR show. Everybody brought their A game and the crowd was ready to rock. Most likely the High water mark of the band so far and certainly an Ocean better than our last outing.
I actually sprung out of bed early this morning feeling less like a failure and more like a success, but I'm sure it will pass soon.
It was the song "Failure" that really stomped things down and changed the course of the night from 5th gear to hyperdrive
"Whenever rammone robertson does the Worm you know it's a good time"
Rev D Badcock, sometime around 1993
Indeed the two things that defined a good time back then. Did the worm happen! (it's a breakdancing move where you imitate an inchworm in motion) and did one of us get a shave compliments of the person who threw the house party.
Come to think of it, the shave is highly ridiculous... Using somebody's razor blade is clearly a hygiene no no. Possibly that is why it was so very funny... My father would not "dig" that kind of action.
The funniest part was actually giving yourself a bad shave and coming back down into the party and then begin chatting up some girls with a bloodied face with a few good globs of shaving cream on your ear due to a bad cleanup job... Extra points for having the razor cuts dabbed it a small piece of tissue paper (still present). For the record, we would usually try to find a new blade and discard it afterwards... Recall that this is not a perfect world. I'll never forget this one keg party we were at in Guelph, Ontario. It was a keg party and word was that the first keg was almost finished before the store was closed which meant that if we all made a big push and drank harder we could finish it, take it back and get the keg refund that would allow us to have enough for another Keg.
So you can imagine that I was mighty smashed when RDB came stumbling down the stairs with his face covered in a red stained shaving cream santa's beard. As he moved down the stairs he was imitating a Benny Hill skit (an old lady sways on the top step of a steep staircase... The sways are exaggerated using speed playback). He was saying party party party... I'm coming to join the party in a an old lady/man English accent. It was great comedy because of course Now the party was really cooking... My man got a free shave with really drunk hands and no feel for pain.
Where was I... Oh yea I did the worm around the Railway in the Wastelands breakdown part. My keys, capo, earplugs, change all fell out of my pocket. This time no condom fell out for all to see.
But the band kicked last night... You know I would say we sucked turtle cocks if that were the case. WB was on fire, AR was a dancing groove bass master, 2stx was at his best, not even my goat voice and buzz-o-matic guitar sound could slow us down (kidding).
High comedy when people came to buy CD's after the show.
Me "well these CD's are kind of weird"
People "good sell job man"
The problem of course is that the New 21tr CD is not yet released, which is most representative of what we did. The debut CD "the ocean is life" has a different feel that might give a different impression ( a fine CD yet). And then there is Supersimian and 4 Roadbed CD's, all with plenty of S Robertson writing but just different that 21TR. I sold 5 copies of Roadbed "last dance @ the Shockcenter", claiming it to be a fine CD with some elements of what went on tonight we did play 2 songs from that CD.
The whole thing was a bit of a clown show... Me and merchandise that is... I forgot to push the Canada Lynx records shirts.
oh well... Better than sucking
We were at the Library the other day getting some children's books and one had a cassette tape with it. It wasn't until my darling CT got to the checkout that she noticed that it was a tape and not a CD. She said "Oh shoot, That's not a CD... Hey MR do we have a cassette player?"
But the big news came with last night's 21 TR show. Everybody brought their A game and the crowd was ready to rock. Most likely the High water mark of the band so far and certainly an Ocean better than our last outing.
I actually sprung out of bed early this morning feeling less like a failure and more like a success, but I'm sure it will pass soon.
It was the song "Failure" that really stomped things down and changed the course of the night from 5th gear to hyperdrive
"Whenever rammone robertson does the Worm you know it's a good time"
Rev D Badcock, sometime around 1993
Indeed the two things that defined a good time back then. Did the worm happen! (it's a breakdancing move where you imitate an inchworm in motion) and did one of us get a shave compliments of the person who threw the house party.
Come to think of it, the shave is highly ridiculous... Using somebody's razor blade is clearly a hygiene no no. Possibly that is why it was so very funny... My father would not "dig" that kind of action.
The funniest part was actually giving yourself a bad shave and coming back down into the party and then begin chatting up some girls with a bloodied face with a few good globs of shaving cream on your ear due to a bad cleanup job... Extra points for having the razor cuts dabbed it a small piece of tissue paper (still present). For the record, we would usually try to find a new blade and discard it afterwards... Recall that this is not a perfect world. I'll never forget this one keg party we were at in Guelph, Ontario. It was a keg party and word was that the first keg was almost finished before the store was closed which meant that if we all made a big push and drank harder we could finish it, take it back and get the keg refund that would allow us to have enough for another Keg.
So you can imagine that I was mighty smashed when RDB came stumbling down the stairs with his face covered in a red stained shaving cream santa's beard. As he moved down the stairs he was imitating a Benny Hill skit (an old lady sways on the top step of a steep staircase... The sways are exaggerated using speed playback). He was saying party party party... I'm coming to join the party in a an old lady/man English accent. It was great comedy because of course Now the party was really cooking... My man got a free shave with really drunk hands and no feel for pain.
Where was I... Oh yea I did the worm around the Railway in the Wastelands breakdown part. My keys, capo, earplugs, change all fell out of my pocket. This time no condom fell out for all to see.
But the band kicked last night... You know I would say we sucked turtle cocks if that were the case. WB was on fire, AR was a dancing groove bass master, 2stx was at his best, not even my goat voice and buzz-o-matic guitar sound could slow us down (kidding).
High comedy when people came to buy CD's after the show.
Me "well these CD's are kind of weird"
People "good sell job man"
The problem of course is that the New 21tr CD is not yet released, which is most representative of what we did. The debut CD "the ocean is life" has a different feel that might give a different impression ( a fine CD yet). And then there is Supersimian and 4 Roadbed CD's, all with plenty of S Robertson writing but just different that 21TR. I sold 5 copies of Roadbed "last dance @ the Shockcenter", claiming it to be a fine CD with some elements of what went on tonight we did play 2 songs from that CD.
The whole thing was a bit of a clown show... Me and merchandise that is... I forgot to push the Canada Lynx records shirts.
oh well... Better than sucking
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Dreamer
Tapes
I have so many cassette tapes, my fool partner thinks that they are garbage now that we live in a "digital world".
Why can't a guy have some good stuff that is not constantly under the threat of being wrongly classified as garbage?
What is with crazy insane maniac women thinking that they are the tidy ones which somehow gives them this ridiculous authority to go against all logic and delete thousands of great musical recordings. Just because I'm not listening to them now doesn't mean that sometime in the future I may live in a house with a large room that has a special lock that only I have the key for and in that room there will be many delightful treats. I'll probably need more than one room come to think of it. I'd defiantly like my own kitchen and recording studio. When I started this thought it was going to be a music listening room and the walls would be lined with fine speakers and all kinds of music that would make a man like Smash happy.
The thing is.. I guess 2 things
1) with the price of real estate and my tendency to remain a failure this whole idea is foolery
2) If my dreams are ever realized I sure as hell don't want to have to scavenge for these recordings that I own on cassette or recorded on cassette. That would just be stupid and wasteful.
I do understand the concept of removing yourself from personal property to free yourself from it's perils, but only a jackass Buddha would throw out sonic recordings. I can hear it now "the sounds in your head are all you really need"... Sure sure... now if you don't mind I'm going to blast some Rush so fuck off.
I have so many cassette tapes, my fool partner thinks that they are garbage now that we live in a "digital world".
Why can't a guy have some good stuff that is not constantly under the threat of being wrongly classified as garbage?
What is with crazy insane maniac women thinking that they are the tidy ones which somehow gives them this ridiculous authority to go against all logic and delete thousands of great musical recordings. Just because I'm not listening to them now doesn't mean that sometime in the future I may live in a house with a large room that has a special lock that only I have the key for and in that room there will be many delightful treats. I'll probably need more than one room come to think of it. I'd defiantly like my own kitchen and recording studio. When I started this thought it was going to be a music listening room and the walls would be lined with fine speakers and all kinds of music that would make a man like Smash happy.
The thing is.. I guess 2 things
1) with the price of real estate and my tendency to remain a failure this whole idea is foolery
2) If my dreams are ever realized I sure as hell don't want to have to scavenge for these recordings that I own on cassette or recorded on cassette. That would just be stupid and wasteful.
I do understand the concept of removing yourself from personal property to free yourself from it's perils, but only a jackass Buddha would throw out sonic recordings. I can hear it now "the sounds in your head are all you really need"... Sure sure... now if you don't mind I'm going to blast some Rush so fuck off.
Friday, March 10, 2006
Time is the hunter (and it will show the truth)
I have set the timer. I am baking a cake and the baby that is now 2 years old is asleep. Party tomorrow here @ 4PM... It will be a hockey game/ child birthday party... Any of the local Blog readers are of course invited. We have the room next door booked for a game of DEATH BALL.
Back to the timer... I laughed as I set it. Sooner or late we all turn into our Fathers. My dad is a timer maniac. He has been known to set the timer for the start of a TV show or when do drink water again. I remember last time I was home we talked about going for a walk and he though it was too soon after dinner and we should wait about ten minutes. "I'll set the timer for 10 minuets, does that sound good" my dad said. After a brief discussion we settled on setting the timer for 7 minutes and 20 seconds. It was a compromise from 7 minutes to 7.5 minutes... In the end the extra ten seconds gave us the time to put on our shoes so that we would be walking at the right time. Strange that a bus happened to go by a large puddle at the precise moment we were standing beside it... That last 10 second adjustment was just too much. But then on the way home (which is where we headed once we were soaked) we found $85 on the street by the curb in 4 twenties and a fin. Another tally at the score put that 10 seconds back in "golden land" as my Father so elegantly put it.
Back to the timer... I laughed as I set it. Sooner or late we all turn into our Fathers. My dad is a timer maniac. He has been known to set the timer for the start of a TV show or when do drink water again. I remember last time I was home we talked about going for a walk and he though it was too soon after dinner and we should wait about ten minutes. "I'll set the timer for 10 minuets, does that sound good" my dad said. After a brief discussion we settled on setting the timer for 7 minutes and 20 seconds. It was a compromise from 7 minutes to 7.5 minutes... In the end the extra ten seconds gave us the time to put on our shoes so that we would be walking at the right time. Strange that a bus happened to go by a large puddle at the precise moment we were standing beside it... That last 10 second adjustment was just too much. But then on the way home (which is where we headed once we were soaked) we found $85 on the street by the curb in 4 twenties and a fin. Another tally at the score put that 10 seconds back in "golden land" as my Father so elegantly put it.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
In fairness to the jackal
You may have noticed a blogaroo full of hate and paranoia a short while back... it had something to do with the fact that somebody was coming out to play the Super Robertson Supper show... I might have seemed a bit concerned by this.
Nothing quite like the feeling of being of being wrong when being wrong is what you had hoped for.
In a way it was like a grand dance with the OMENS and coming out with a bounce in your step.
They were decent, the guitar guy could play and sing and the Eyes kept it quiet and steady for periods of time, and in a weird way, when he stumbled, it added an elegance of good art.(How the fuck do you properly punctuate that sentence?)
They played Weaser cover songs.
Worked for me.
The other thing that worked for me was the whole concept of the Supper Show. Truly a brilliant concept... a masterstroke in societal testing and schedule management.
This occurred to me at around 2AM, as 21 tandem repeats played as part of the "Big Show".
The Railway paid is fairly all things considered. Each member of the band made $25, in essence not bad for a 40 minute set... but to get it you need to sacrifice 4 hours of sleep and suffer the perils of alcohol poisining... always good to enjoy a fine "shit smiling smash".
I lost my train of thought comming up with "shit smiling smash"... a poor term which just continues to dissapoint my readers.
But the Super Robertson Supper show happens from 7:30-8:30PM... right around dinner time.... it's free.
That's insain... a rediculously good bargain for anybody who believes thet they suscribe to a music sceen. It challenges the foundations of how society has evolved to enjoy music? If you want to see live music you need to go to a bar late at night?
It's like the rush to see the 7:30 movie because the 9:30 is too late, but yet one who sees a lot of bands natural response is that it's too early. The question becomes why are you going to a music show?
Networking, to bee seen so that there will be pressuer for that person to come to your concert. Hand out you Demos. Drink, socalize, meet members of the oppisite sex. Dont get me wrong.. all that studff is good and i am a ferm believer that people have the right to choose how they should live ther lifes... that could be a book.
BUT when does a music lover get a chance to love music played live?
The ideal time would be around the time of the supper show... around the time you might do something for the evening if it were something like Bowling, cards, movie, walk, tea with friend, watch hockey game... see great band at a good venue that has good food and good beer.
I formally challenge this city.
Ask not what you can do for your music , but what you can do for your music scene.
Nothing quite like the feeling of being of being wrong when being wrong is what you had hoped for.
In a way it was like a grand dance with the OMENS and coming out with a bounce in your step.
They were decent, the guitar guy could play and sing and the Eyes kept it quiet and steady for periods of time, and in a weird way, when he stumbled, it added an elegance of good art.(How the fuck do you properly punctuate that sentence?)
They played Weaser cover songs.
Worked for me.
The other thing that worked for me was the whole concept of the Supper Show. Truly a brilliant concept... a masterstroke in societal testing and schedule management.
This occurred to me at around 2AM, as 21 tandem repeats played as part of the "Big Show".
The Railway paid is fairly all things considered. Each member of the band made $25, in essence not bad for a 40 minute set... but to get it you need to sacrifice 4 hours of sleep and suffer the perils of alcohol poisining... always good to enjoy a fine "shit smiling smash".
I lost my train of thought comming up with "shit smiling smash"... a poor term which just continues to dissapoint my readers.
But the Super Robertson Supper show happens from 7:30-8:30PM... right around dinner time.... it's free.
That's insain... a rediculously good bargain for anybody who believes thet they suscribe to a music sceen. It challenges the foundations of how society has evolved to enjoy music? If you want to see live music you need to go to a bar late at night?
It's like the rush to see the 7:30 movie because the 9:30 is too late, but yet one who sees a lot of bands natural response is that it's too early. The question becomes why are you going to a music show?
Networking, to bee seen so that there will be pressuer for that person to come to your concert. Hand out you Demos. Drink, socalize, meet members of the oppisite sex. Dont get me wrong.. all that studff is good and i am a ferm believer that people have the right to choose how they should live ther lifes... that could be a book.
BUT when does a music lover get a chance to love music played live?
The ideal time would be around the time of the supper show... around the time you might do something for the evening if it were something like Bowling, cards, movie, walk, tea with friend, watch hockey game... see great band at a good venue that has good food and good beer.
I formally challenge this city.
Ask not what you can do for your music , but what you can do for your music scene.
In fairness to the jackal
You may have noticed a blogaroo full of hate and paranoia a short while back... It had something to do with the fact that somebody was coming out to play the Super Robertson Supper show... I might have seemed a bit concerned by this.
Nothing quite like the feeling of being of being wrong when being wrong is what you had hoped for.
In a way it was like a grand dance with the OMENS and coming out with a bounce in your step.
They were decent, the guitar guy could play and sing and the Eyes kept it quiet and steady for periods of time, and in a weird way, when he stumbled, it added an elegance of good art.(How the fuck do you properly punctuate that sentence?)
They played Weaser cover songs.
Worked for me.
The other thing that worked for me was the whole concept of the Supper Show. Truly a brilliant concept... A masterstroke in societal testing and schedule management.
This occurred to me at around 2AM, as 21 tandem repeats played as part of the "Big Show".
The Railway paid us fairly all things considered. Each member of the band made $25, in essence not bad for a 40 minute set... But to get it you need to sacrifice 4 hours of sleep and suffer the perils of alcohol poisoning... Always good to enjoy a fine "shit smiling smash".
I lost my train of thought coming up with "shit smiling smash"... A poor term which just continues to disappoint my readers.
But the Super Robertson Supper show happens from 7:30-8:30PM... Right around dinner time.... It's free.
That's insane... A ridiculously good bargain for anybody who believes that they suscribe to a music scene. It challenges the foundations of how society has evolved to enjoy music? If you want to see live music you need to go to a bar late at night.
It's like the rush to see the 7:30 movie because the 9:30 is too late, but yet one who sees a lot of bands natural response is that it's too early. The question becomes why are you going to a music show?
Networking, to bee seen so that there will be pressure for that person to come to your concert. Hand out you Demos. Drink, socialize, meet members of the opposite sex. Don't get me wrong.. All that stuff is good and I am a firm believer that people have the right to choose how they should live their lives... That could be a book.
BUT when does a music lover get a chance to love music played live?
The ideal time would be around the time of the supper show... Around the time you might do something for the evening if it were something like Bowling, cards, movie, walk, tea with friend, watch hockey game... See great band at a good venue that has good food and good beer.
I formally challenge this city.
Ask not what you can do for your music , but what you can do for your music scene.
Nothing quite like the feeling of being of being wrong when being wrong is what you had hoped for.
In a way it was like a grand dance with the OMENS and coming out with a bounce in your step.
They were decent, the guitar guy could play and sing and the Eyes kept it quiet and steady for periods of time, and in a weird way, when he stumbled, it added an elegance of good art.(How the fuck do you properly punctuate that sentence?)
They played Weaser cover songs.
Worked for me.
The other thing that worked for me was the whole concept of the Supper Show. Truly a brilliant concept... A masterstroke in societal testing and schedule management.
This occurred to me at around 2AM, as 21 tandem repeats played as part of the "Big Show".
The Railway paid us fairly all things considered. Each member of the band made $25, in essence not bad for a 40 minute set... But to get it you need to sacrifice 4 hours of sleep and suffer the perils of alcohol poisoning... Always good to enjoy a fine "shit smiling smash".
I lost my train of thought coming up with "shit smiling smash"... A poor term which just continues to disappoint my readers.
But the Super Robertson Supper show happens from 7:30-8:30PM... Right around dinner time.... It's free.
That's insane... A ridiculously good bargain for anybody who believes that they suscribe to a music scene. It challenges the foundations of how society has evolved to enjoy music? If you want to see live music you need to go to a bar late at night.
It's like the rush to see the 7:30 movie because the 9:30 is too late, but yet one who sees a lot of bands natural response is that it's too early. The question becomes why are you going to a music show?
Networking, to bee seen so that there will be pressure for that person to come to your concert. Hand out you Demos. Drink, socialize, meet members of the opposite sex. Don't get me wrong.. All that stuff is good and I am a firm believer that people have the right to choose how they should live their lives... That could be a book.
BUT when does a music lover get a chance to love music played live?
The ideal time would be around the time of the supper show... Around the time you might do something for the evening if it were something like Bowling, cards, movie, walk, tea with friend, watch hockey game... See great band at a good venue that has good food and good beer.
I formally challenge this city.
Ask not what you can do for your music , but what you can do for your music scene.
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
S. Robertson armchair philosopher
Indeed, for an armchair is where a pro philosopher spins his scenario's.
Honor- a cumbersome burden that puts one out of the game of humanity
Everything is perfect in a different way- Imperfection is the building block of perfection.
The translation for an insane maniac, such as myself... Sometimes you have to take a big hit to really see everything. Will the hit be as bad as you anticipated? Or is it the anticipation that is the killer. And then following those lines... it is possible that the familiar comfort of a fine paranoia is what you were really looking for in the first place.
Now that could be described as imperfect (existing as a paranoid human), but at the same time the paranoia could save you some grief by helping to reinforce some basic security measures.
Possibly desktop philosophy would be a better title for this most convoluted and non-fluent blogaroo.
The question is.
What the hell am I doing on this computer... my life is passing me by... there goes another minute.
I went to see Nardwuar the human serviette last night. It was a DVD release party in a theater. Nard was talking to the crowd about his Journalism stories. I got a free DVD and all I had to do was go and pick up Nardwuar in a body slam like position hoist him up over my head so that he could play the keyboard that others were holding... Pockets helped out too.
His bands thee Goblins and the evaporators played... I won the DVD during the Evaporators set.
Never had I ever seen the man play before. I use to listen to his radio show for years when I was a truck driver in Richmond (you can get citr 101.9 FM there). Now the man is a legend, so I always felt weird about never having seen his bands... I tried a few times but things happened.
It was fun and I look forward to watching all those interviews.
Honor- a cumbersome burden that puts one out of the game of humanity
Everything is perfect in a different way- Imperfection is the building block of perfection.
The translation for an insane maniac, such as myself... Sometimes you have to take a big hit to really see everything. Will the hit be as bad as you anticipated? Or is it the anticipation that is the killer. And then following those lines... it is possible that the familiar comfort of a fine paranoia is what you were really looking for in the first place.
Now that could be described as imperfect (existing as a paranoid human), but at the same time the paranoia could save you some grief by helping to reinforce some basic security measures.
Possibly desktop philosophy would be a better title for this most convoluted and non-fluent blogaroo.
The question is.
What the hell am I doing on this computer... my life is passing me by... there goes another minute.
I went to see Nardwuar the human serviette last night. It was a DVD release party in a theater. Nard was talking to the crowd about his Journalism stories. I got a free DVD and all I had to do was go and pick up Nardwuar in a body slam like position hoist him up over my head so that he could play the keyboard that others were holding... Pockets helped out too.
His bands thee Goblins and the evaporators played... I won the DVD during the Evaporators set.
Never had I ever seen the man play before. I use to listen to his radio show for years when I was a truck driver in Richmond (you can get citr 101.9 FM there). Now the man is a legend, so I always felt weird about never having seen his bands... I tried a few times but things happened.
It was fun and I look forward to watching all those interviews.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Little girl world
Monkey is sleeping
here is the top for water
I speak bear
come here
have some water
I see talking mouth
here's a mouth
Daddy want some
I want some
That was Kaiya's poem.
She turns 2 on Friday March 10 2006. She would like a party and at that party she would like to see some cake.
Got to love kids... their poetry is as good as any of the local jackass poets... but yet she does not take her craft as seriously. And she knows what she wants and is not ashamed or afraid to ask for it. Soon society will pound these traits out of her innocent soul and trade them for consumerist urges. We shall see about that... maybe there is a way to not fall down that gutter.
Shall we sell the place buy some land in remote Canada and live in a hut off the land in an effort to avoid the ills of society?
Probably better to just get what you can while you can.
Smash would love that one... He once noted my ability to quote myself.
Uh oh... I think Kaiya just flooded the downstairs
Flood was a strong word... a serious soaking would be a more appropriate use of language
here is the top for water
I speak bear
come here
have some water
I see talking mouth
here's a mouth
Daddy want some
I want some
That was Kaiya's poem.
She turns 2 on Friday March 10 2006. She would like a party and at that party she would like to see some cake.
Got to love kids... their poetry is as good as any of the local jackass poets... but yet she does not take her craft as seriously. And she knows what she wants and is not ashamed or afraid to ask for it. Soon society will pound these traits out of her innocent soul and trade them for consumerist urges. We shall see about that... maybe there is a way to not fall down that gutter.
Shall we sell the place buy some land in remote Canada and live in a hut off the land in an effort to avoid the ills of society?
Probably better to just get what you can while you can.
Smash would love that one... He once noted my ability to quote myself.
Uh oh... I think Kaiya just flooded the downstairs
Flood was a strong word... a serious soaking would be a more appropriate use of language
Thursday, March 02, 2006
"Eric" begat "eyes" which begat "relentless jackal"
"Eric" begat "eyes" which begat "relentless jackal"
I am not comfortable with what I will have to deal with at the next supper show.
I guy who has recently been punched in the throat, for some reason, has put a band together a week and a half ago, and he has never played in a band, is ready to come down and play the Supper Show.
About 9 months ago I let him play some drums for the portion called "Poem Moment"... Somebody reads a poem written by the audience while WB plays some smart bass lines Eyes hammers on the drums (fairly steady... Has potential", and Fire-Man honks an elaborate and insanely expensive Bugle horn tuned to some random wavelength with great effort to not leave any portions of time bereft of horn.
He thanked me profusely saying how nobody else ever lets him play. His mother even came down to the show one time and he played some drums.
Gradually he has begun to feel a sense of entitlement, and all he has to do to get it is to follow me around incessantly asking. He can feel me hating this and he has learned that I am more likely to let him just do it than to punch him in the throat.
Hence his new name "relentless jackal".
Why am worried?
Can this band play quietly like a supper show requires?
Most bands can't... Especially young bands.
Is their equipment going to pop away?
I hope they are good.
What if they are loud and irritating???
I will probably physically attack RJ? (one of my main worries)
Good that it's the Super Robertson Supper Show... Rather than the 21 tandem Repeats supper show (which it could and possibly should be called). Good because a band doesn't need this extra anxiety. Me I'm a natural this... It's what I've been training for all my life.
Why did he get punched in the throat?
I don't know, but in another sense I think I do.
I just hope to hell these guys are good.
Could always sic the horns on them... Now were cooking with gas!
I still like the Relentless Jackal supper show on Wednesdays 7 till nine out someplace in Aldergrove with special guests LOFM... that's my new life dream.
I am not comfortable with what I will have to deal with at the next supper show.
I guy who has recently been punched in the throat, for some reason, has put a band together a week and a half ago, and he has never played in a band, is ready to come down and play the Supper Show.
About 9 months ago I let him play some drums for the portion called "Poem Moment"... Somebody reads a poem written by the audience while WB plays some smart bass lines Eyes hammers on the drums (fairly steady... Has potential", and Fire-Man honks an elaborate and insanely expensive Bugle horn tuned to some random wavelength with great effort to not leave any portions of time bereft of horn.
He thanked me profusely saying how nobody else ever lets him play. His mother even came down to the show one time and he played some drums.
Gradually he has begun to feel a sense of entitlement, and all he has to do to get it is to follow me around incessantly asking. He can feel me hating this and he has learned that I am more likely to let him just do it than to punch him in the throat.
Hence his new name "relentless jackal".
Why am worried?
Can this band play quietly like a supper show requires?
Most bands can't... Especially young bands.
Is their equipment going to pop away?
I hope they are good.
What if they are loud and irritating???
I will probably physically attack RJ? (one of my main worries)
Good that it's the Super Robertson Supper Show... Rather than the 21 tandem Repeats supper show (which it could and possibly should be called). Good because a band doesn't need this extra anxiety. Me I'm a natural this... It's what I've been training for all my life.
Why did he get punched in the throat?
I don't know, but in another sense I think I do.
I just hope to hell these guys are good.
Could always sic the horns on them... Now were cooking with gas!
I still like the Relentless Jackal supper show on Wednesdays 7 till nine out someplace in Aldergrove with special guests LOFM... that's my new life dream.
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