Chapter Nine: The Food of Life I want to thank everyone who sent me birthday greetings. Although I turned 40 on September 1st, the official observation was held on Friday the 6th when a parliament of my more unstable comrades congregated to take me out for celebration and debauchery. I met up with the crew (which included a lawyer, a comic shop owner, and an organ harvester) at the Huki Lau where buffets were raided and wussy, watered- down scorpion bowls were consumed with abandon. Many topics of great importance were discussed: What was our esteemed and recently blonde postman friend Brian's secret porn name? (Answer: Dirk Kirk) What would be his porn debut? (Answer: Lick My Stamp, featuring the line "Someone's gonna have to sign for this, ma'am.") How was my trip to Fallingwater? Did the Mighty Mank actually suck sown the shot from the center of his scorpion bowl? Does this look like chicken to you? Who would we have to blow to get a goddamned ashtray around here? After far too much cheap liquor and questionable food we made our way to Anthony's, a really old strip club in the thriving metropolis of South Hadley. Our arrival easily doubled the population of the club, and we soon got down to the vital business of drinking, socializing, and paying naked women to put up with our unsavory antics. There was a girl whose brows, tongue, nipples and labia were excessively studded. I took to calling her Mildred Pierce. At one point a slight young thing going by the nom de guerre "Rainbow" was plying her trade when a dwarf, and I mean a dwarf, passed by our seats. I immediately opened the floor to any and all "under the rainbow" jokes. More friends showed up as the evening wore on. Alex drove up from New York; Dave arrived after finishing a cross-country trip from the Burning Man festival. We downed a round of "red-headed sluts," which led me to ponder why all shot names were derogatory and misogynistic. Why not "Vulgar Incontinent Bastard" or 'Syphilitic Rake?" One little epiphany struck me: Out of the 13 or so boys who partook of the evening, most of whom I have known for at least ten years, there were at least four individual pairs who had never met before. It was a rare treat to make such loaded introductions. We drank. We laughed. We played urinal trough hockey. It was exhilarating. By night's end I had no voice or dependable motor skills left. My forebrain had been rubbed away, but my soul was elated. I don't get too many really memorable nights, then again I guess none of us do. I was quite hungover the following day. My plans for excessive cleaning and productivity were replaced by watching TV and moaning. By mid-afternoon I had eaten and decided it was time to salvage the rest of the day and go grocery shopping despite the discomfort. I have always heard the adage that you should never go shopping while hungry. Well, dear friends, I have discovered the secret to thrifty shopping: A hangover. Some examples: "Hey, Jeff, howza 'bout some nice deli meats today?" (stomach churns) "I got some fresh oysters here!" (eyes glaze) " Italian sausages on sale...a dollar off corned beef hash...sir, would you like to try some tripe?' (equilibrium falters) Drinking is a sin that comes with its own punishment. Much like attending an opera. I bought saltines. The summer-long drought of decent CDs finally broke this past week. The new California Guitar Trio disc with Tony Levin and Pat Mastelotto came out and it is sweet. Also picked up Barry Adamson's The King of Nothing Hill, a full-on groove-noir epic. One of the smoothest albums I've heard in a while. The new Residents CD is called Demons Dance Alone. It is freakish and magnificent. Lastly, friend Mark gave me a copy of Snow by Spock's Beard. This is a two-disc concept album about an albino messiah coming to power in NYC. The story is a bit formulaic but the music is sprawling and over-the-top. You can't help but feel their enthusiasm as this progressive pop leviathan just keeps going. I always love when several good CDs come out in proximity of one another, especially when they sound nothing alike! These "music clusters" as I call them are the moments I live for as a music listener, and there have been quite a few such large infusions of new tunes into my rotation this year. However trying to purchase them illustrates the ass-backward view held by most music stores about what they should stock. I went to three different stores that Tuesday (two chains and an independent) and found nothing that I wanted. The next day I went to Borders and found everything. Yay Borders! They understand the importance of variety. I've gotten to the point where I actually decide what I'm going to listen to in advance, then pull my discs for the week. How sad am I when I organized and micro- manage my own distractions? Jennifer suffered a trauma this week as she discovered that quite a few of her old books were experiencing an infestation. Yes, a species of wood-boring beetles called Anobiids had taken up residence in some of her more esteemed tomes. Even more traumatic was the fact that when she moved the affected bookcase she found a carcass underneath. You see, over a year ago on a night when Jen was home alone, Vulcan brought some manner of creature (I am guessing a squirrel) into the apartment. It was still alive. It took over an hour for Vulcan to torture it to death. Jennifer locked herself in the bathroom and could do nothing but listen to the horrible sounds it made. When I got home I found fur and meat everywhere, but no actual corpse. It wasn't for lack of searching. I looked everywhere. I assumed eventually it would begin to smell and I could find it easily. Months passed. I never smelled anything. I forgot about it. During the holidays I found some furry hindquarters while cleaning in the studio bathroom. They were waaaay back behind the toilet. I figured that was all of it. Well, we now know the other half of the poor creature had managed to crawl underneath her bookshelf. Imagine this thing, pulling the top half of its severed body to safety, away from the murderous machinations of my psychotic cat, only to die and become a nest for insects. Yum. It was the grossest thing I've seen in years. Fortunately the invasion seems to be localized and I have procured some chemical weapons to stem further occurances. Fuck with my girlfriend's books, will you... So, I hear Attack of the Clones is coming to IMAX theaters across the country. Imagine: bad acting 8 stories high! Yes, I'm bummed about the cancellation of Farscape, but the writers shot themselves in the foot. I love a big monster-sized epic as much as the next guy, but the story got so entangled in it's own tail that it was next to impossible to attract new viewers. Not even the "previously on Farscape" prologs on each episode were effective enough to debrief the uninitiated. Too much back-story. Too bad, great show. I'm hearing rumors about UPN picking it up. As always I've been browsing. Here's some reading suggestions: Bruce Sterling has written a piece on the future of manufacturing at Metropolis. Extropy has an article by Marc Geddes that partially reconciles Transhumanism with Objectivism (something I've been pondering for years). James Randi's site has a telling piece by Michael Roes concerning self-help guru and one-time Clinton consultant Tony Robbins. I was intrigued and disturbed in equal parts by Robin Tomens clinical use of logic to pare down his record collection over at Tangents. I've been looking for more "My Favorite Women" sites for the Linkpage. Found a page dedicated to the yummy Sherry Jackson who guest-starred on just about everything back in the 60's. Oh, and I finally found a tribute to Vampyros Lesbos star Soledad Miranda. Lastly, when VH1 ran the Where Are They Now?: Video Vixens special they did a story on Caroline Munro (who was in an Adam Ant video). They gave a criminally small amount of credit to here career in horror films. I found her official site so you can learn all about her. Remember, knowledge is power, even if it's about scream queens. Ciao for now. JP |
Eager Anticipations: The Moebius online series Arzak Rhapsody. (Has anyone heard any more news on this?) The Leonid Meteors Egyptian Exhibit at Boston Science Warren Ellis' Global Frequency The Out of Time exhibit comes to Springfield. A new Nancy Kress novel Tadao Ando Exhibit at Clark Art A new Jonathan Carroll novel. New Discs and/or Tours by The Terrastock Music Festival The Super Mega Fests in Newark and Boston Alan Moore's Magic Words A new Walter Jon Williams novel. Another Line of Todd McFarlane/Clive Barker Tortured Souls figures. The SFX Expo in Boston DaVinci Drawings at The MET Apollo 13 in IMAX 3D Kerouac Days in Lowell Conventions 2003: The 2004 World Science Fiction Convention returns to Boston. Currently in My Various Stereos: California Guitar Trio w/ Tony Levin and Pat Mastelotto CG3+2 Man or Astroman? Your Weight on the Moon Poundhound Pineapple Skunk Frank Black Oddballs Pallas The Wedge The Residents Demons Dance Alone Barry Adamson King of Nothing Hill Schicke-Fuhrs-Frohling Collected Works Project Lo Black Canvas Explorer's Club Raising the Mammoth The Crest Letter from Fire David Sylvian Camphor Miles Davis Blue Miles Pink Floyd Animals Anathema Alternative 4 Bond Born (only the first couple tracks, I swear!) Architectural Metaphor Creature of the Velvet Void Happy the Man Death's Crown Sisters of Mercy Slight Case of Overbombing Garden Wall Principium Rick Wright Broken China Lycia The Burning Circle andThen Dust Spock's Beard Snow Zappa & The Mothers Playground Psychotics |
Eager Anticipations: The Moebius online series Arzak Rhapsody. (Has anyone heard any more news on this?) The Leonid Meteors Egyptian Exhibit at Boston Science Warren Ellis' Global Frequency The Out of Time exhibit comes to Springfield. A new Nancy Kress novel Tadao Ando Exhibit at Clark Art A new Jonathan Carroll novel. New Discs and/or Tours by The Terrastock Music Festival The Super Mega Fests in Newark and Boston Alan Moore's Magic Words A new Walter Jon Williams novel. Another Line of Todd McFarlane/Clive Barker Tortured Souls figures. The SFX Expo in Boston DaVinci Drawings at The MET Apollo 13 in IMAX 3D Kerouac Days in Lowell Conventions 2003: The 2004 World Science Fiction Convention returns to Boston. Currently in My Various Stereos: California Guitar Trio w/ Tony Levin and Pat Mastelotto CG3+2 Man or Astroman? Your Weight on the Moon Poundhound Pineapple Skunk Frank Black Oddballs Pallas The Wedge The Residents Demons Dance Alone Barry Adamson King of Nothing Hill Schicke-Fuhrs-Frohling Collected Works Project Lo Black Canvas Explorer's Club Raising the Mammoth The Crest Letter from Fire David Sylvian Camphor Miles Davis Blue Miles Pink Floyd Animals Anathema Alternative 4 Bond Born (only the first couple tracks, I swear!) Architectural Metaphor Creature of the Velvet Void Happy the Man Death's Crown Sisters of Mercy Slight Case of Overbombing Garden Wall Principium Rick Wright Broken China Lycia The Burning Circle andThen Dust Spock's Beard Snow Zappa & The Mothers Playground Psychotics |
Chapter Nine: The Food of Life I want to thank everyone who sent me birthday greetings. Although I turned 40 on September 1st, the official observation was held on Friday the 6th when a parliament of my more unstable comrades congregated to take me out for celebration and debauchery. I met up with the crew (which included a lawyer, a comic shop owner, and an organ harvester) at the Huki Lau where buffets were raided and wussy, watered- down scorpion bowls were consumed with abandon. Many topics of great importance were discussed: What was our esteemed and recently blonde postman friend Brian's secret porn name? (Answer: Dirk Kirk) What would be his porn debut? (Answer: Lick My Stamp, featuring the line "Someone's gonna have to sign for this, ma'am.") How was my trip to Fallingwater? Did the Mighty Mank actually suck sown the shot from the center of his scorpion bowl? Does this look like chicken to you? Who would we have to blow to get a goddamned ashtray around here? After far too much cheap liquor and questionable food we made our way to Anthony's, a really old strip club in the thriving metropolis of South Hadley. Our arrival easily doubled the population of the club, and we soon got down to the vital business of drinking, socializing, and paying naked women to put up with our unsavory antics. There was a girl whose brows, tongue, nipples and labia were excessively studded. I took to calling her Mildred Pierce. At one point a slight young thing going by the nom de guerre "Rainbow" was plying her trade when a dwarf, and I mean a dwarf, passed by our seats. I immediately opened the floor to any and all "under the rainbow" jokes. More friends showed up as the evening wore on. Alex drove up from New York; Dave arrived after finishing a cross-country trip from the Burning Man festival. We downed a round of "red-headed sluts," which led me to ponder why all shot names were derogatory and misogynistic. Why not "Vulgar Incontinent Bastard" or 'Syphilitic Rake?" One little epiphany struck me: Out of the 13 or so boys who partook of the evening, most of whom I have known for at least ten years, there were at least four individual pairs who had never met before. It was a rare treat to make such loaded introductions. We drank. We laughed. We played urinal trough hockey. It was exhilarating. By night's end I had no voice or dependable motor skills left. My forebrain had been rubbed away, but my soul was elated. I don't get too many really memorable nights, then again I guess none of us do. I was quite hungover the following day. My plans for excessive cleaning and productivity were replaced by watching TV and moaning. By mid-afternoon I had eaten and decided it was time to salvage the rest of the day and go grocery shopping despite the discomfort. I have always heard the adage that you should never go shopping while hungry. Well, dear friends, I have discovered the secret to thrifty shopping: A hangover. Some examples: "Hey, Jeff, howza 'bout some nice deli meats today?" (stomach churns) "I got some fresh oysters here!" (eyes glaze) " Italian sausages on sale...a dollar off corned beef hash...sir, would you like to try some tripe?' (equilibrium falters) Drinking is a sin that comes with its own punishment. Much like attending an opera. I bought saltines. The summer-long drought of decent CDs finally broke this past week. The new California Guitar Trio disc with Tony Levin and Pat Mastelotto came out and it is sweet. Also picked up Barry Adamson's The King of Nothing Hill, a full-on groove-noir epic. One of the smoothest albums I've heard in a while. The new Residents CD is called Demons Dance Alone. It is freakish and magnificent. Lastly, friend Mark gave me a copy of Snow by Spock's Beard. This is a two-disc concept album about an albino messiah coming to power in NYC. The story is a bit formulaic but the music is sprawling and over-the-top. You can't help but feel their enthusiasm as this progressive pop leviathan just keeps going. I always love when several good CDs come out in proximity of one another, especially when they sound nothing alike! These "music clusters" as I call them are the moments I live for as a music listener, and there have been quite a few such large infusions of new tunes into my rotation this year. However trying to purchase them illustrates the ass-backward view held by most music stores about what they should stock. I went to three different stores that Tuesday (two chains and an independent) and found nothing that I wanted. The next day I went to Borders and found everything. Yay Borders! They understand the importance of variety. I've gotten to the point where I actually decide what I'm going to listen to in advance, then pull my discs for the week. How sad am I when I organized and micro- manage my own distractions? Jennifer suffered a trauma this week as she discovered that quite a few of her old books were experiencing an infestation. Yes, a species of wood-boring beetles called Anobiids had taken up residence in some of her more esteemed tomes. Even more traumatic was the fact that when she moved the affected bookcase she found a carcass underneath. You see, over a year ago on a night when Jen was home alone, Vulcan brought some manner of creature (I am guessing a squirrel) into the apartment. It was still alive. It took over an hour for Vulcan to torture it to death. Jennifer locked herself in the bathroom and could do nothing but listen to the horrible sounds it made. When I got home I found fur and meat everywhere, but no actual corpse. It wasn't for lack of searching. I looked everywhere. I assumed eventually it would begin to smell and I could find it easily. Months passed. I never smelled anything. I forgot about it. During the holidays I found some furry hindquarters while cleaning in the studio bathroom. They were waaaay back behind the toilet. I figured that was all of it. Well, we now know the other half of the poor creature had managed to crawl underneath her bookshelf. Imagine this thing, pulling the top half of its severed body to safety, away from the murderous machinations of my psychotic cat, only to die and become a nest for insects. Yum. It was the grossest thing I've seen in years. Fortunately the invasion seems to be localized and I have procured some chemical weapons to stem further occurances. Fuck with my girlfriend's books, will you... So, I hear Attack of the Clones is coming to IMAX theaters across the country. Imagine: bad acting 8 stories high! Yes, I'm bummed about the cancellation of Farscape, but the writers shot themselves in the foot. I love a big monster-sized epic as much as the next guy, but the story got so entangled in it's own tail that it was next to impossible to attract new viewers. Not even the "previously on Farscape" prologs on each episode were effective enough to debrief the uninitiated. Too much back-story. Too bad, great show. I'm hearing rumors about UPN picking it up. As always I've been browsing. Here's some reading suggestions: Bruce Sterling has written a piece on the future of manufacturing at Metropolis. Extropy has an article by Marc Geddes that partially reconciles Transhumanism with Objectivism (something I've been pondering for years). James Randi's site has a telling piece by Michael Roes concerning self-help guru and one-time Clinton consultant Tony Robbins. I was intrigued and disturbed in equal parts by Robin Tomens clinical use of logic to pare down his record collection over at Tangents. I've been looking for more "My Favorite Women" sites for the Linkpage. Found a page dedicated to the yummy Sherry Jackson who guest-starred on just about everything back in the 60's. Oh, and I finally found a tribute to Vampyros Lesbos star Soledad Miranda. Lastly, when VH1 ran the Where Are They Now?: Video Vixens special they did a story on Caroline Munro (who was in an Adam Ant video). They gave a criminally small amount of credit to here career in horror films. I found her official site so you can learn all about her. Remember, knowledge is power, even if it's about scream queens. Ciao for now. JP |
