Does blogging remind anyone else of shadow puppets?

Does anyone else want to see K. Silem Mohammad do the Nestle song, with the 'Chaaaaawwk-late'?

Feeling naughty. Deal with it, America!

Sandra, everytime I try to live as variously as possible, I get rejected!

I'm afraid of you too.

Summer scares me. Seriously it does. Something about the warmer weather making lots of people take there clothes off. Going swimming. Males competing for females' attention. Showing off their virility. 'Peacocking'.

I love swimming, but summer scares me. Why is that? Something psychological as all get out I'm sure.

These are my favorite songs at the moment:
Rolling Stones "Let It Loose"- Besides the beautiful guitar part at the beginning, this song is fascanating because it's really just barely there. It builds and then at the end different singers come in and it's really moving. But apropos of the title, the song is very loose; a strictly maintained beat underpinning a miasma of moaning, cooing singing, and what really amounts to noodling, good noodling. I had a professer who complained that when Keith Richards and Chuck Berry jammed, Richards couldn't keep up. But Chuck Berry didn't write 'Jumpin Jack Flash', 'Loving Cup' or this song. It's like an orgiastic funeral procession. Only ye old Stones could pull that off.

Pavement "Rattled By The Rush"- Has a similar feel, or tempo anyway. And Malkmus had better lyrics. Makes me get weepy toward the end in a similar to 'Let It Loose', when Malkmus keeps saying 'makes you wanna say your prayers'. Spiral Stairs was an underrated guitarist for sure.

Jana Hunter- It's on the mix cd my friend Amanda made for me but she didn't write down the title. But it starts out with the lyrics 'Laughing and crying are the same thing' and it's a capela.

Oh Hi. I was just wondering if you're alive. Or if you're alive later, maybe we could be alive together. I'll be alive for a while so call me.

Last week I saw Animal Collective play for the second time at The Metro in Chicago. Robert said he felt ecstatic at certain points in the show and so did I. The Metro is a nice theater too, more reverberant than the venue I saw them at the first time at the U. of Chicago. Animal Collective are one the few reasons compelling enough to get me to visit Chicago, and maybe for that matter, get out of bed. Sorry Chicago people. Bed, I ain't madatcha. The first song was 'Doggy' from Campfire Songs, a sample of the guitar part from that song on a loop accompanied by various pulses and electronic noises from Geologist, and of course Avey Tare and Panda Bear singing. There was no guitar in the show, which was a departure from at the U. of C. where they were a full band, and the songs were more like slow-building My Bloody Valentine walls of sound. They played alot of new material, which was good, tho Robert said they didn't play 'Reverend Green', which he had been talking to me about. The songs would start at a pulse, with some whispering sounds and various noises, then swell to at points deafening volume. Robert said it was the lowest bass he'd ever heard. Me too. You could feel it penetrating your chest, almost replacing your heartbeat. There was a lanky blond guy in a baggy shirt who was dancing ecstatically throughout, even during the quieter parts, but the quieter parts did have a pulse that you can dance to. I mainly jiggled around in place but that was more than most people were doing. You'd think there'd be alot more dancing at AC shows. But everybody was packed in. When the first piano tinklings of 'Loch Raven' sounded people responded to it immediately. Even at an Animal Collective show, especially at an Animal Collective show, the audience responds to the more familiar material, which is something I'd normally associate with Peter Frampton concerts. And 'Loch Raven' isn't a riff-driven song at all, tho this rendering of it gave me a new appreciation. 'We Tigers' was a high-point in the set, as it was the first time I saw them do it. It seems to come at a cathartic point, the electronics and bass pulses stripped away, so all it is is three people hitting a drum, whooping and dancing around. No encore, tho Panda Bear stood in front of his bank of samplers and keys for a protracted amount of time, prompting one of the tech-people to walk up and ask if there was anything he needed or if he was ok. I think he was. I think I could be bros with Panda Bear.

I'm straight.

Last night a guy at Landmark said, 'Get in the van!... Just kidding.'

Trying to remember what I heard in conversation last night on my bike:

College Girl 1: "WOW THAT'S WAY COOL BUZZY BUZZY."

College Girl 2: "May I just posit that..."

______


"..." or "--"

It always seems like I could be working alot harder on my poems. I think, without too much of the stinking-thinking tendency, I can safely say that I'm a pretty lazy person. I don't usually have the energy to send the work out either, whatever that means. But the job takes alot out of me.

Tonight I'm going to the Book Party in my room. Did you think I was going to say 'pants'?

Master Class: Mike Hauser Eats a Bag of Chips

This master class will consist of a captive audience looking on as Mike Hauser eats an entire bag of chips. It will last until Mike is finished with the bag, and feels ready to get up and walk around. He will intermittently speak about topics as diverse as Joseph Ceravolo, couches, how as a boy he was forced to play softball, Cinemax, masturbation habits, and how he believes that dogs' thought processes consist mostly of picturing variously colored balloons ascending. Mike may vomit several times during this master class. The cost to register is 25 dollars.

I guess it bugs me when something is quirky but not quirky enough. When something is sufficiently quirky. You can look at it as a manifestation of capitalism. This will make you feel different. Like the difference between someone pretending to be interested in 'what you're up to', and then leaving at the first oppurtunity. No more than a transaction. But there's no engagement. I guess, and I hesitated to mention him, Billy Collins is an example of sufficiently quirky. Poems that excuse themselves from association with a certain unquirkiness. I mean no one wants to be identified as one of those terrible academic creatures from Kenneth Koch's Fresh Air. So we get poems that are a reenforcement of the difference between normal and weird. But there is no normal. There's no escaping that, and the only pleasure is in the effort. Well yeah, that's obvious actually. It's not about the endpoint. I hope I've somewhat explained myself.

Patron: "Can you find me a book on inspiration? Any one will do."

Librarian: "Any particular author?"

Patron: "No. I just want one book."

____

The saddest thing I can imagine: Someone walking into a record store and saying, "One CD, please!" For some reason this just makes me want to cry!

My friend Dave, who I have known for a long time, and is still one of the funniest people I know, did this to one of those getting-to-know-you email surveys. This is the by far the funniest set of respones I've ever read.

1. What is your occupation?
Getting and responding to email.
2. What color are your socks right now?
My socks don't care about race; they've evolved beyond hatred.
3. What are you listening to right now?
My slacks.
4. What was the last thing you ate?
Brett Kell made me turkey burgers, and I stole some chocolate eggs.
5. Can you drive a stick shift?
How much stick can a stick shift shift?
6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be?Porridge.
7. Last person you spoke to on the phone?
A lovely Inuit man who calls me intermittently to ask if I got the flowers he sent me. I don't know his name.
8. Do you like the person who sent this to you? Hey, I'm not on trial here.
9. How old are you today? Acht und Zwanzig.
10. Favorite Drink?
The kind that makes people laugh at my dull-witted bar humor.
11. What is your favorite sport to watch?
F1 Grand Prix racing, because I get to wear my cleavagey Ferrari shirt.
12. Have you ever colored your hair?
Yes, but only because I was really into those "Just For Men" commercials.
13. Favorite food?
Mormon doomsday rations.
14. What was the last movie you watched?
The Monsanto Corporation Presents: "Organic Food Causes AIDS"
15. Favorite day of the year?
Hair Pie Avoidance Week, September 9-15.
1 6. What do you do to vent anger?
I live in an old house without anger vents; I have to use a window unit instead.
17. What was your favorite toy as a child?
Norman Schwartzkopf's Discipline Chair from Hasbro
18. What is your favorite season?
Fall. Because that's when Hair Pie Avoidance Week occurs, September 9-15.
19. Hugs or kisses?
This question only matters if I'm meeting someone from Europe, because I won't do either to Americans.
20. Cherries or Blueberries?
Both badly stain my dentures, so I only eat gummy bears.
21. Do you want your friends to e-mail you back?
I'd prefer it if they wrote me a letter explaining their intentions first, and then if I feel comfortable with it we could proceed with the courting process; that is, if they have my father's approval.
22. Who is most likely to respond?
Police, Fire, and County Officials
23. Who is least likely to respond?
Terry Schaivo?
24. Living arrangements?
I eat and drink things, and then I crap them out. It's a great living arrangement.
25. When was the last time you cried?
During that "Call Empire - Today!" commercial. Immediate delivery of flooring does that to me.
26. What is on the floor of your closet?
A nexus between space and time; not quite what one would describe as a cosmic string but something closer to worm-hole with an unstable event horizon.
27. Who's the friend you have had the longest that you are sending this to?
Justin.
28. What did you do last night?
I hung out in a sleazy bar playing pool with Nate, Justin and some Emo guys.
29. Favorite smells?
Opening a brand new box of Monopoly. It's got a great smell. If I were rich, I'd buy them like packs of cigarettes.

30. What inspires you?
Selfless acts.
31. What are you afraid of?
Losing on "Jeopardy!" because Alex Trebek can be really verbally abusive in private.
32. Plain, cheese or spicy hamburgers?
Spicy? Who came up with that fucking option???
33. Favorite dog breed?
I enjoy a good Dachshund. They can shake the shit out of a ferret.
34. Number of keys on your key ring?
3.
35. How many years at your current job?
9.75 years
36. Favorite day of the week?
Whatever the sarcastic answer would be, I don't know - Monday? Help me out here.
37. How many & which states have you lived in?
One (1) -Wisconsin ( Wisconsin).
38. Favorite holiday?
I get chocolate from me Mum right around Veteran's Day.
39. Ever driven a Motorcycle or heavy machinery?
I used to drive an industrial lathe to work.
40. Who's your favorite NFL team?
The teams with the most insensitive and politically incorrect names - The Washington Redskins, The Minnesota Vikings, The New York Rabbis, and the Cincinnati Brown vs. The Board of Education (formerly the Seattle Separate/Equals)
41. Do you have a house phone that is NOT cordless?
Yes? So?
42. 10 ft of snow or 100 degree weather????
I'm counting on German engineering to somehow deliver them simultaneously.
43. What's the craziest thing you have ever done?
I've had sushi a couple of times...
44. What is your greatest accomplishment to date?
I totally did some cool things in high school that don't seem to be that relevant anymore.
45. What is one thing you would do right now if you could?
I would run a store that sold cigars and very expensive pens. Men would come over to drink cognac in the walk-in humidor and it would be fun, until some misfit inner-city kids challenge our conservative, by-the-book notions and teach us how to love again.
46. What is something you are looking forward to?
Apparently purchasing some babies for Reaca.
47. Give me some good news!Turkey has maintained a secular government in spite of pressure from conservative Muslim clerics! Hooray! Plus I'm free of STDs!

Why am I so fond of commas? My friend Brett told me once that I'm 'comma-happy'. Hi Brett! I just think punctuation is neat.

Every once in a while I consider starting to become a follower of baseball. And since the Brewers have the best record in the league, maybe now would be a good time. I do like looking at the sports section. I heard that Ted Berrigan also liked looking at the sports section, but I imagine he read the entire paper or at least large chunks in one gulp. Tho I have nothing substantial to base that on. When I was younger, much younger, pre-teen younger, I was a big sports fan. And I think I could still do pretty well if quizzed on sports pre-95 or so. But I don't know if I'll ever really 'follow' sports again apart from viewing the sports page once in a while. For one thing, sorry but almost all sports on television are so so tedious for me. Stops and starts. Stops and starts. And I know that in very-Catholic baseball they're all supposed to be a part of the ritual of it. Football obviously has ritual in it but the ritual and the method of it seem less foregrounded. Don't most people just watch football to look for long pass catches and crunchy hits? But I have to say NFL Films is pretty great. I don't think you have to even be a football fan to appreciate NFL Films. And Steve Sabol's favorite artist is guess who-- Joseph Fucking Cornell! I thought that was pretty weird.

Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman is one of the weirdest television shows I've ever seen. It was 'developed' by Norman Lear in the 70s, but it plays more like a soap opera written by Samuel Beckett. The dialogue in the first episode revolves around a waxy yellow layer of grease on Mary Hartman's kitchen floor, a mass-murder of four people, two goats and eight chickens, and The Fernwood Flasher, who turns out to be Mary Hartman's Grandpa Larkin. A very sharp satire of soap operas of the 1960s and 70s, tho I've never seriously watched them so I could be wrong. Louise Lasser as Mary Hartman, is pensive and exciteable at once. A couple of my favorite lines are "Unlock the swinging door!" and "You should never be ashamed of witnessing a mass-murder."

I would like to have sex with a deer, or at least make out with one.

Just kidding!

I would vote Republican if they paid me enough.

Just kidding!

I want to be the first poet on The View.

Just kidding!

If I went to AWP, I would try to sleep with as many women as possible.

Just kidding!

So I've got that part from that song by Band of Horses stuck in my head-- the one that sounds like that one song by Modest Mouse from their first album, but also kind of like Built to Spill, and also that Pixies song that was in that Brad Pitt movie. So it looks I'm gonna have to 'like' yet another Indie Rock band. And I'm even starting to think about listening to Bright Eyes, who for some reason I want to give another chance. I know you'll never change, Conor Oberst, and neither will I, and we are beautiful. Like Peaches and Herb. Like Cagney and Lacey. Like Myers and Mister. Like Lennon and McCartney. Like SM and Spiral Stairs. Like Wendy and Lisa. And so on.

Not that the quirky narrative semi-rant is meant to be an indictment of domesticity or quirkiness. Quirkiness doesn't really need to be defended, not by me anyway, especially since I've secretly enjoyed The Nanny on multiple occasions. What would a poem that addresses a poet's domestic life, or home life, or everyday life sound like? There are scores of examples. It's just that to me, my domestic life is enormously depressing. Here is an example of something I wrote that would seem a shade of my approximation of what a domestic poem might begin to sound like, in the interim. (everything)

Mike-Time

a chair by an open window
need to clear accounts
weather permit is a hassle
keeps coming
day bidet
keeping the right parts clean

the violet, the fake postcard, the anchor

I think that's how it goes. When I go back and read it I'm left with the conclusion that I basicly wrote a poem about ass-maintenence. Yeah that's right. You get the fuckin TMIness in heaps and bushels with me! Not that I wipe my ass with a fake postcard. Is there any such as a fake postcard. "Hello from Amsterdam... Just kidding!"

But I do believe some aspect of domesticity is important, in that it's a major source for the materials one makes poems out of. That's a no-brainer. Maybe my problem is that when I read quirky narratives, I get jealous, because so many quirky narratives portray an upper-middle class existence. Why would I be jealous of such mundanity? I don't know. It's not like I try to be jealous. I don't try to have hairs either. Not that one or that one or that one.