Friday, October 31, 2008


"There's a barber outside." She turned to Samson and motioned to the door.

"What does he want?" asked Samson.

"I don't know!" Sarah threw herself to the floor.

Samson took his boy around the bend. "Michigan was a swamp," he said, "and all these crumbling houses are the new woods. Soon, nature will have been here longer than humans."

a barber took up residency in my dump of a garage
gone for 32 days, i returned to find my house occupied
the sorry dirt that makes up my neighborhood
the neo-swamp of michigan, houses the new trees rising up from the murk
a lad on the beach

Sunday, October 26, 2008


So, all that worrying about Dark Matter was for naught: it sold out beyond capacity by 1am. Erin arrived just after 10pm to work the door, expecting a couple slow hours of mingling and occasionally taking $3 from the evening's patrons. Instead, she was swamped from 10:30pm until I took over at 1am, at which point all I could do was turn people away. Total shocker. Anyway, Robert and Aaron did sets together, trading off one-to-one I believe, while Raj and I did solo sets. The four of us were pretty on -- there was a cohesive vibe throughout the night but I regret not pulling out much, if any, surf/kraut/weird shit. Alas, there will be another Dark Matter.

It occurred to me only hours after two friends asked if they could get into DM for free that the door charge was a meager fuckin' three bucks and that -- TEN YEARS AGO -- I was charging $3 at my bands' shows. I don't exactly know what's fair but I feel like a bit of a chump. Then I remember: I can't be mad, we're in a recession. ::cough::

Anyway, the Benoit 7"s should be here any minute...

LISTENING Minutemen - Double Nickels on the Dime

Friday, October 24, 2008


1.) In the mirror, she saw a ouija board reflected. In her room, there was nothing. She turned from the mirror, raised and opened her arms:

"This is my world. And I want that board."

2.) Ciandra inhaled the hot smell emanating from the parking lot grit. Her boyfriend turned to her:

"I have no idea what my parents are up to now. Or why they bought all that wicker furniture back in the day. ...And I was never able to rock the '80s station the way we did at the resale shop in the 1980s."

3.) They rested near the sawdust heap. He touched her calf and they fell deeply in love, holding each other on the plastic rocks.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008


The week preceding last month's Dark Matter saw me feeling fried and freaking the fuck out. Egad -- I think a week was shaved off my life the day of. Dark Matter No. 2 is Friday and I'm considerably more relaxed if only because, between three DJs and one VJ, over 300 people have been invited. If 50 come and bring one friend, it'll be a success. Ahh... 100 people = sweet success!! Cripes -- 100 people -- what the fuck was I worried about?!

To be honest, I'm a mess of raw nerves these days. Methinks much of it comes from increased activity -- never have I had so much on my plate and never have I had so much self doubt. It's a vicious cycle, I'll tell you what. On top of everything already going on, ideas are constantly coming: new projects, plans, collaborations, blogs(!?), etc. Meanwhile, at night I lay in bed and think about starting a band. Hilarious.

LISTENING Mark Stewart and the Maffia - Mark Stewart + Maffia (Upside)

Friday, October 17, 2008


"Lucifer came to me
a great horned owl
at the witching hour
a candle of incense
a floating pizza."

"But like the young
lady in the garden
we all know about,


I could not pick
that Italian apple."

He removed my chastity belt, put a silent copy of Phantom of the Opera on the monitor, and CSNY on the Bose.

Tuesday, October 14, 2008


In the last two weeks, I've read the equivalent of 3 or so books. For the most part, I'm revisiting: Film at Wit's End by Brakhage, Deathtripping: The Extreme Underground (formerly Deathtripping: The Cinema of Transgression -- this is a recently released, revised, domestic edition) by Jack Sargeant, Our Band Could Be Your Life by Michael Azzerad, and Confusion Is Next by Alec Foege. Our Band... and Confusion... weren't read from start to finish as I was drawing lines from one book to the other, reading portions of the latter two to bolster the former.

I'm a little obsessive by nature but often a lot obsessive, fixating on all sorts of shit (and often it's Satanism, I'm afraid! ::cough::). Right now the focus is heavy on late 1970s/early 1980s New York City. There's a grit, a vibe, an energy to the creative output that's endlessly interesting -- a period of time that could never be recreated due to economic and political factors amongst others. I'm talking music, film, venues, etc. It's the shit that really blew my mind when I was younger. Perhaps nothing made me look forward to becoming an adult more than Richard Kern's Hardcore videos (eh... for better or for worse). Anyway, the focus may shift to West Coast hardcore soon enough -- I can't get enough of Black Flag's In My Head which, honestly, I find more enjoyable than Damaged (heresy!).

Monday, October 13, 2008


There is no bus
to take us there.

Not to that strange house
unfinished walls

the wooden floorboards

Your skateboarding friend
his nose falling off

You cried your heart out
yourself to sleep

You fell in the field
rubbed the fever
from your brow.

It was summer
We just left the dance
I took polaroids
you and that hat.

Friday, October 03, 2008


Marco was a prophet. He was a channel of wisdom located some strange place beyond human comprehension. In his hands, a lice comb became a divination tool. I can say now that I was the least surprised member of my family when he began dating my sister.

In our town, he was holier than Moses or the Ark, and my sister stole pumpkins from the church. Together, they were sexy but highly volatile, like a nazi war criminal and a slave owner caught in a game of Lazer Tag. She would called him "penis breath" and he never got the reference.

Riding in the back of a pickup truck out in the boonies, the three of us got drunk on Black Velvet. "We should shoot a horror movie out here!" Marco called to our driver, an out of work T.V. camera man. Later, the driver would become my bookie.

A year after the night in the pickup, we had a finished film: The Witches Corner. It played in three cities and made $800. On the eve of the last showing, Marco and the bookie sat in front of the theater's screen and played some sick, sick blues. I wish you could have heard them on the stage, howling at that old moon. "I'm a king bee...I'm buzzing around your hive."

Later, I began betting on all horses with "Slim" in their name. When I finally lost a race, and it wasn't a big race or a big pot, the bookie forced me to eat my height in Slim Jims.

Wednesday, October 01, 2008


Dang -- John Hill's Six Moons Of Jupiter album effin' stinks! For a spell, I would literally throw dollar bills at every Finders Keepers release offered. The hit rate was incredibly high and at least one record quickly became one of my very favorite albums of all time. Asking to deliver on that promise is a bit much so perhaps I shouldn't be so taken aback by this half-bakery!

Dark Matter was this past Friday and I probably couldn't be more pleased with the turnout. It was maybe the second-most packed soirée I've been witness to at the Elks Lodge and there were lots of good vibes and compliments floating around the joint. Raj guest DJ'ed again as did our pal Max, Brian ran the avant garde projections, and Erin worked the door. It wasn't as edgy as I'd originally intended (where was the incense?! where was the krautrock set?!? just kidding. okay, not really.) but methinks each successive DM will move back toward, and refine, my original ideas.

Strangely enough, Dark Matter is also going to be a coffee. Actually, it is. A roaster run by some friends picked up the name and tapped me to design the labels for that and some other blends and I couldn't refuse! Erin created the Dark Matter blend it's so fucking good it's almost painful. A talented gal, that one.

Cripes, this is turning into a busy year. I just finished watching 40 experimental short films for a certain film festival (not Hott Lava) and have 40 more to dive into post-haste. It's great work if you can get it, no doubt.