Time for a little of the old S. Robertson time wasting... Another fine window into the errant mind of a self proclaimed Jackass who believes a camera crew should just follow him around and he would make a fine movie, make millions, and retire from this wounding fiasco of an existence.
Yea, don't we all you snake in the grass... No I think fucking son of a bitch is better, but what does it mean.
You see I was in this hot tub with 4 other naked women and I started this debate... Or at least I tried to start a debate over how "fuck" and the other bad words became bad words. I was interested in finding out at what point in history of language did these bad words get labeled as bad words and then have to live on the other side of the fence... I was really getting into it when the women came up with Super Mark Fucking Son of a Bitch Robertson. Later after I soaked them with the garden hose I got talking with somebody shall we call him A. Parker... And he was saying that the word is meaningless. The word fuck has so many uses you can't define it... Then we got into the devolution of language caused by text-messaging... How teachers are finding all sorts of non language in exam papers. Kind of ironic that I a man who is just getting to the point of understanding English finds himself in a time where it no longer matters. They say that the "Leader" of the "Free World" speaks at the level of a grade 5 student, and people like it that way because they feel like he is one of them, and not some stuffy intellectual that may realize that the world is really in a bad way and that if we don't correct things we are far more fucked than any terrorist attack could ever give us.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
I remember the typewriter
I remember the typewriter... I even clung to the fucker when we moved much to the disbelief of my wife who eventually pitched the thing only to later rue that decision when we needed a typewriter for a performance prop.
None the less I was a serious luddite. What is a luddite? Well a quick shot of the fine internet dictionary gives us this:
1. Any of a group of British workers who between 1811 and 1816 rioted and destroyed laborsaving textile machinery in the belief that such machinery would diminish employment.
2. One who opposes technical or technological change.
shit I could write a book on that first one.
I recall telling my cousin (who recalls as well and at certain times reminds me) that computers will be the downfall of society, which they very well might be, but for different reasons than I had predicted.
Back then a computer was essentially useless (beyond being a fine word processor barring any crashes) when you think about it (1990). I suffered a few loss of data fiasco's when i was in university. Later when the internet started and fools spent hours designing rudimentary website entry pages (fly the spaceship that looks like a cigarette pack over to get a key and then fly the key into a hole to enter the site) I scoffed again. And besides I liked my typewriter, It felt good, and it didn't matter as I was basically illiterate.
As an artist a computer now in 2006 can stomp balls on all forms. I was sold in about 2000 when the G4 came out. It could edit video, record music, and communicate with the internet which is basically all I ever wanted. Along the way I got sucked into website maintenance (roadbedonline.com, canadalynxrecords.com, 21tr.ca) which blew a few gaskets along the way.
Back to the point I was going to get at before this grand errant puffery.
Before I wrote on paper and there are sheets in the filing cabinet and now I write on the internet. Nobody can see in the filing cabinet... And that's a good thing , but, if I ever wrote anything good (a far fetched scenario) it would be easier to transfer from the internet... Barring a savage crash... But internet companies never go belly up right?
What about mindset... When you wrote on paper you knew who would read it, or at least you had a better idea. I recall the time I had this girlfriend and things weren't going that well and there was this other girl that I felt an attraction for and we discussed our attraction and of course not wanting to engage in infidelity I came up with the grand idea of writing a love novel together using the power of our lust... Bad idea!
Me, I always maintained that blogging was a writing exercise and that if I had something imperative to say I would put it on a "thread". That was a joke by the way... Which proves if it proves anything that I am conscious that I am writing for someone else.
They say to get over stage freight you picture people in their underwear. I say to get over blog freight just picture the Mule sitting at his computer reading.
SR
None the less I was a serious luddite. What is a luddite? Well a quick shot of the fine internet dictionary gives us this:
1. Any of a group of British workers who between 1811 and 1816 rioted and destroyed laborsaving textile machinery in the belief that such machinery would diminish employment.
2. One who opposes technical or technological change.
shit I could write a book on that first one.
I recall telling my cousin (who recalls as well and at certain times reminds me) that computers will be the downfall of society, which they very well might be, but for different reasons than I had predicted.
Back then a computer was essentially useless (beyond being a fine word processor barring any crashes) when you think about it (1990). I suffered a few loss of data fiasco's when i was in university. Later when the internet started and fools spent hours designing rudimentary website entry pages (fly the spaceship that looks like a cigarette pack over to get a key and then fly the key into a hole to enter the site) I scoffed again. And besides I liked my typewriter, It felt good, and it didn't matter as I was basically illiterate.
As an artist a computer now in 2006 can stomp balls on all forms. I was sold in about 2000 when the G4 came out. It could edit video, record music, and communicate with the internet which is basically all I ever wanted. Along the way I got sucked into website maintenance (roadbedonline.com, canadalynxrecords.com, 21tr.ca) which blew a few gaskets along the way.
Back to the point I was going to get at before this grand errant puffery.
Before I wrote on paper and there are sheets in the filing cabinet and now I write on the internet. Nobody can see in the filing cabinet... And that's a good thing , but, if I ever wrote anything good (a far fetched scenario) it would be easier to transfer from the internet... Barring a savage crash... But internet companies never go belly up right?
What about mindset... When you wrote on paper you knew who would read it, or at least you had a better idea. I recall the time I had this girlfriend and things weren't going that well and there was this other girl that I felt an attraction for and we discussed our attraction and of course not wanting to engage in infidelity I came up with the grand idea of writing a love novel together using the power of our lust... Bad idea!
Me, I always maintained that blogging was a writing exercise and that if I had something imperative to say I would put it on a "thread". That was a joke by the way... Which proves if it proves anything that I am conscious that I am writing for someone else.
They say to get over stage freight you picture people in their underwear. I say to get over blog freight just picture the Mule sitting at his computer reading.
SR
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Robertson needs sleep now
I just read some of Fred Charles' Blog... Almost like a cross between Mule Hughes and Willingdon Black. Reminds me I need to add some links all over the intersphere.
Which makes me think. What kind of blogger art I?
It was all just a writing exercise in the beginning, and like the music it's all so random and unfocused. Possibly I should be a Blog counselor. I could just come up with a shitlist of ass brain terms from a sales retreat... Do sales people have retreats... Yes indeed. And then relentlessly hammer my pupils with these easy points.
This is going to be great soon I'll have thousands of anxious bloggers paying huge sums of money to me for giving Blog advice. Better print up some business cards ASAP because the sky is the limit.
1st Seminar: How slipping into unwanted poetry in the middle of a highly tuned sales pitch is a bad idea.
What are we selling people.. Ideas? And Ideas= $$$$$. As we all know a good idea will just fly out of a person and instantly make them $$$$$. This $$$$$ in turn will put the said idea man on easy street where he can enjoy plenty-o-relaxation.
Please note the above is complete gibberish.
Which makes me think. What kind of blogger art I?
It was all just a writing exercise in the beginning, and like the music it's all so random and unfocused. Possibly I should be a Blog counselor. I could just come up with a shitlist of ass brain terms from a sales retreat... Do sales people have retreats... Yes indeed. And then relentlessly hammer my pupils with these easy points.
This is going to be great soon I'll have thousands of anxious bloggers paying huge sums of money to me for giving Blog advice. Better print up some business cards ASAP because the sky is the limit.
1st Seminar: How slipping into unwanted poetry in the middle of a highly tuned sales pitch is a bad idea.
What are we selling people.. Ideas? And Ideas= $$$$$. As we all know a good idea will just fly out of a person and instantly make them $$$$$. This $$$$$ in turn will put the said idea man on easy street where he can enjoy plenty-o-relaxation.
Please note the above is complete gibberish.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
I don't like CIBC
So it was noon when the call came in that the rent check at the sanctuary bounced.
I immediately flashed red... CIBC red that is. So I go into the bank with $600 cash on April 28 and that can't clear a $500 check on May 1.
Are the banks running the world?
Is this a figurative finger flick of a bug, where I'm the bug, and the bank got tired of me breathing too much of it's air.
Yes landlord I'm a loser who can't do anything right... Possibly I should be evicted now that the new landlords look at their options.
The same shitty CIBC that has screwed up many simple things in the past. I remember talking with the band manager Mr. Sanderson and the Assistant Manager Guaan... Oh yes but recalling now that the assistant manager doesn't know anything about banking... He only knows about sales. I swear to GOD that is exactly what the manager told me after a simple transaction had gone M.I.A for the third straight time. And then he added this beauty... "We will just tell them that it's a bank error... It happens all the time, don't worry about it".
How the hell is that bank still in business?
In all seriousness...
is it Banks are so important to the economy that it matters not what the do with the small stuff.
Are people just sold on banks as a brand?
Why don't I change.
Can I tolerate another incompetent institution to throw forms and personal investment profile score sheets in front of be as I am isolated into a "sales booth" to find out which kind of account suits my personal profile?
And if I were to say "I want an account that gives me access to my fucking money, and one where "ghost" transactions don't happen... An account that pays the interest at the going rate and doesn't gouge my eye out for transactions that they may or may not even authorize at the moment of truth."
what answer would I get... Probably a pause and then direct my eyes back down to the questionnaire to assess again my profile to see if I am indeed a "Very aggressive Investor"
The mortgage is now with INGdirect.
I immediately flashed red... CIBC red that is. So I go into the bank with $600 cash on April 28 and that can't clear a $500 check on May 1.
Are the banks running the world?
Is this a figurative finger flick of a bug, where I'm the bug, and the bank got tired of me breathing too much of it's air.
Yes landlord I'm a loser who can't do anything right... Possibly I should be evicted now that the new landlords look at their options.
The same shitty CIBC that has screwed up many simple things in the past. I remember talking with the band manager Mr. Sanderson and the Assistant Manager Guaan... Oh yes but recalling now that the assistant manager doesn't know anything about banking... He only knows about sales. I swear to GOD that is exactly what the manager told me after a simple transaction had gone M.I.A for the third straight time. And then he added this beauty... "We will just tell them that it's a bank error... It happens all the time, don't worry about it".
How the hell is that bank still in business?
In all seriousness...
is it Banks are so important to the economy that it matters not what the do with the small stuff.
Are people just sold on banks as a brand?
Why don't I change.
Can I tolerate another incompetent institution to throw forms and personal investment profile score sheets in front of be as I am isolated into a "sales booth" to find out which kind of account suits my personal profile?
And if I were to say "I want an account that gives me access to my fucking money, and one where "ghost" transactions don't happen... An account that pays the interest at the going rate and doesn't gouge my eye out for transactions that they may or may not even authorize at the moment of truth."
what answer would I get... Probably a pause and then direct my eyes back down to the questionnaire to assess again my profile to see if I am indeed a "Very aggressive Investor"
The mortgage is now with INGdirect.
Saturday, May 06, 2006
Attack Black
So I went out last night to play Some drums @ the sanctuary, I was grooving fine. later I went for a walk and ended up in this bizarre bar where I believe 5 gay men were fighting and the waitress was singing loudly to recordings with vocals that had significantly different cadence and tone combinations that what was coming out of her mouth. I read the local shithole paper and nursed a beer. I could feel that the new presence of a man with sideburns, short shorts, white sox, bright lime foam thongs and SCARB JACKET (lumber jacket) was beginning to be felt.
It's the old the guy at the party who doesn't really want to party yet does what he wants to do none the less without regard for the fact that he may be spoiling fun.
Every once and a while everybody needs to fuck off.
I woke up on Saturday morning later than expected not feeling exactly chipper. I had a coffee and a bowl of Special K and then I went over to KOKO to finish the 21tr CD with my mates. On the way there I stopped by jack freelances house to feed his cat and clean a litter box. to be honest I had no intention of dealing with the litter box... I don't do cat shit. I have been very clear on that. Apparently a mother is coming by to help as well. this matters not since the cat has begun to shit outside the box on the tile floor... I scooped it up and put it in the toilet and flushed and them promptly vomited the contents of my stomach in a short 8 violent actions. After the garbarator sounds I wiped the tears from my eyes and regrouped. It looked a little windy up there in the sky palace. So I carried on to KOKO a few short blocks away. About 10 steps into my journey a savage storm hit instantly soaking me. I literally sprinted the last 2 blocks of Broadway and came whipping around Manitoba and 8th to KOKO where Willingdon Black was standing all dry... a man of Authority.
Only the Gods were to know that in a few short hours it would be Willingdon Black who would be whipped by a somewhat metaphorical storm. and of course the irony of it all being the sword that mortally wounded him come from his longtime friend Mule Hughes, a man who when reporting on a event in which cheers were measured to pick a winner wrote something like ..."CC Sit-down had a thunderous applause and I had Myself and the Stalwart Mr. Black".
The biggest surprise of the day were the songs that I forgot about in terms of "what is a key song for the release".
I like them all very much, except the one that will not see it's name called come pressing time. that's songs failure was my own for trying to sneak one by the grand machine. no real loss
It was the first song we listened to today. Probably 20 minutes after the cat shit incident and 10 minutes since the soaking. I feared that song I knew I hated it for some fine reasons and it needed to be assassinated. I was hoping to listen to whishing machine first, I know I like the mix and it all sounds good so it would be a quick approval everybody would be feeling good and we would move on.
Willingdon black had a fine first period and he shed ample effects off of the guitars... Perhaps he even looked confidant going into the first coffee brake intermission. Then Hobbs and Super struck back leaving his voice offering I AM A FAILURE AND I KNOW IT all alone at the end of the track, and then his Famous backwards guitar solo got left in the mix of last call. He sat in the producers chair and took notes that looked like the box score of an elaborate game.
shit now it's Sunday night and all kinds of lawnmowers have been revved up.
An inside joke between Simm and myself is that getting work done = mowing grass and keeping it clean... because you don't want the grass to get too long under your feet.
Indeed... all functions are in full gear now for the 21tr release.
I should have noted that I ran into Cam Dilworth on the Neins Circa and he is going to come and play the Super Robertson Supper show this next Wednesday. It looks like it will be an Artist's artist session as we will have everybody sketch cam while he plays.
Bring your supplies.
It's the old the guy at the party who doesn't really want to party yet does what he wants to do none the less without regard for the fact that he may be spoiling fun.
Every once and a while everybody needs to fuck off.
I woke up on Saturday morning later than expected not feeling exactly chipper. I had a coffee and a bowl of Special K and then I went over to KOKO to finish the 21tr CD with my mates. On the way there I stopped by jack freelances house to feed his cat and clean a litter box. to be honest I had no intention of dealing with the litter box... I don't do cat shit. I have been very clear on that. Apparently a mother is coming by to help as well. this matters not since the cat has begun to shit outside the box on the tile floor... I scooped it up and put it in the toilet and flushed and them promptly vomited the contents of my stomach in a short 8 violent actions. After the garbarator sounds I wiped the tears from my eyes and regrouped. It looked a little windy up there in the sky palace. So I carried on to KOKO a few short blocks away. About 10 steps into my journey a savage storm hit instantly soaking me. I literally sprinted the last 2 blocks of Broadway and came whipping around Manitoba and 8th to KOKO where Willingdon Black was standing all dry... a man of Authority.
Only the Gods were to know that in a few short hours it would be Willingdon Black who would be whipped by a somewhat metaphorical storm. and of course the irony of it all being the sword that mortally wounded him come from his longtime friend Mule Hughes, a man who when reporting on a event in which cheers were measured to pick a winner wrote something like ..."CC Sit-down had a thunderous applause and I had Myself and the Stalwart Mr. Black".
The biggest surprise of the day were the songs that I forgot about in terms of "what is a key song for the release".
I like them all very much, except the one that will not see it's name called come pressing time. that's songs failure was my own for trying to sneak one by the grand machine. no real loss
It was the first song we listened to today. Probably 20 minutes after the cat shit incident and 10 minutes since the soaking. I feared that song I knew I hated it for some fine reasons and it needed to be assassinated. I was hoping to listen to whishing machine first, I know I like the mix and it all sounds good so it would be a quick approval everybody would be feeling good and we would move on.
Willingdon black had a fine first period and he shed ample effects off of the guitars... Perhaps he even looked confidant going into the first coffee brake intermission. Then Hobbs and Super struck back leaving his voice offering I AM A FAILURE AND I KNOW IT all alone at the end of the track, and then his Famous backwards guitar solo got left in the mix of last call. He sat in the producers chair and took notes that looked like the box score of an elaborate game.
shit now it's Sunday night and all kinds of lawnmowers have been revved up.
An inside joke between Simm and myself is that getting work done = mowing grass and keeping it clean... because you don't want the grass to get too long under your feet.
Indeed... all functions are in full gear now for the 21tr release.
I should have noted that I ran into Cam Dilworth on the Neins Circa and he is going to come and play the Super Robertson Supper show this next Wednesday. It looks like it will be an Artist's artist session as we will have everybody sketch cam while he plays.
Bring your supplies.
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