And You Will Know Us By the Blood That Drips From Our Fingers

I got nothin'. Sorry. There are probably shows going on tonight at places. I don't know where or what or who's playin'. You could just go and check the Metro Times website, the Lager House, or the Majestic/Magic Stick/Garden Bowl. Otherwise, I really don't know what's going on in town tonight. I think Junior Brown's playing the Stick tonight, but I'm not real sure who he is. Country, maybe? I don't know. I know where I'll be: the Garden Bowl playing music.

Panic? No, just boredom in Detroit.

Lollipops

I have to admit, I've been a hardcore regular at the Majestic in Detroit for a little over six years now. I started working there in the Fall of '97, and I haven't stopped. I did it all, bartending, barbacking, working the bowling alley, DJing, I was a line cook for a while, I even worked on the automatic pinsetting machines. When you work at a popular bar, you don't always like to hang out there, you like to get out once in awhile and see the competition, or at least see something different. I've seen a lot, hole-in-the-wall bars, old man bars (lots, and lots of those), cop bars, blues bars, gay bars, ghetto trannie bars, martini bars, you name it. I tend to avoid the meat markets, though, because, really, what's the point? So, in my time, I've seen the Majestic change over the years. Every year, millions of kids decide that they want to start going to a club, they want to be seen, they want to be trendy and hip or whatever, maybe even get laid. So, that brings us to the current state of affairs. Thursday nights at the Magic Stick. What the fuck is this? I walk in, and I feel like I'm at the Windsor Music Cafe, or Campbell Street Station (in Sarnia). Total meat market, booty music, hipster kids, high heels, fuck-me boots, and mini-skirts. There are always lots of fights, too. Honestly, I find the whole scene really strange. It's a bunch of punk rock kids who were all emo last year, and now they go and hang out and dance to Britney Spears while making sure the 00-gauge plugs don't fall out of their ears while they're dancing in just that right way to make sure all the 19-year old guys can see the Celtic/tribal tattoo they have in the small of their backs. It's fucking creepy, I mean really, what is going on? I remember back when I was 21, and I had to go back to my old high school to get a copy of my transcript for something for college, and all the kids had their hair dyed different colors, and they were wearing Doc Martins, and I was so freaked out by it. When I was in high school, I was made fun of for being like that. Now, it's mainstream, it's just trendy fashion. If Nirvana never would've happened, these same girls would be going to the Post and hitting on date-rapists. I just don't get it. Maybe I'm too old for this shit, maybe I should just stay away from club nights. I guess that's obvious, but it just happens, it becomes voyeuristic.

electric youth

Accident Waiting to Happen

Things bothering me today (like you really care): The $7,000,000,000,000 national debt. George W. Bush and the fact that he will probably be elected again because too many stupid Americans like him for invading Iraq, even if it was under false pretenses. Ralph Nader - his presence in the election is gonna fuck everything up. Winter, its so cold, I just wish it was warm already! I've been waking up at 8am lately without fail, yet I still walk into work (late) a few minutes after 11am every day. Why do we have to rely on cars so much? Where is Detroit's mass transit system? Why can't I take a train up Woodward to 8 Mile, and then a train down 8 Mile to Lahser? It'd be nice. Cheaper, safer, better for the environment and all that. I hope Mexico City enjoys the trolleys we sold them when the Big 3 made mass transit nearly pointless in Detroit. Speaking of the Big 3, GM has announced that they will try to tackle the Asian market. They're running scared. Toyota's creepin' up on them. The Big 3 no longer includes GM, Ford, and Chrysler, Toyota has surpassed Ford and Chrysler. I'd be scared if I was GM, too. Up until recently, GM was the world's biggest company, employing the most people. They still employ the most people, but Wal-Mart is the world's biggest revenue-maker. Sam Walton sold his soul to the devil so that he could one day put all the mom-and-pop stores of the world out of business. Wal-Mart: destroyer of America's idyllic main street and the small town 'downtown' area! Funny, considering that Sam Walton started out with a small-time five-and-dime store in a small town. Thanks to him, those stores barely exist in America. A small part of me misses those small town mainstreets. I grew up in a small town that didn't have an actual main street area. Its actually kinda weird, but the next town over is about four times as big, and they have a main street. A few years ago, the city went and renovated that area to make it look like it once did with cobblestones and all that. A bigger part of me needs urban life. I wish Detroit was more urban. Why can't I get Indian food at 4am in downtown Detroit? Where is our Flash Taco or Underdog or Little Nicky's? One day, when the fabulous ruins of Detroit are gone, I will miss them, but I'll welcome the day when downtown Detroit's ruins will be a memory of urban-spelunking past. That reminds me of something else bothering me, I need to find more. There has to be more beyond the office job, bars on the weekends, and the need to type this shit just to keep myself sane.

the milkman of human kindness

Cracking Up

Why must life be so difficult? Why do people have to be so stubborn? Why can't I openly discuss what I want to type here right now? It's too personal, that's why, but it's getting to me. I shouldn't let it bother me, it seems like I can't affect the inevitable outcome, but I keep trying because I keep melting. I have all the patience in the world if I think I can affect an outcome, however, if I can't do anything about it, I get pissed. I'm on the verge of getting pissed. That's pissed, with a 't', pist, and pist will equal failure. Rejection. Letdown. I hate this shit. I've been patient for a long time, but I'm starting to crack. I'm cracking up.

It seems so simple, like 1 + 1 = 2, but it's more like 1 + 1 = insane drama. I got 2+2 on my mind.

I wish more people would just say fuck caution, and do what feels right. I'm rational and practical as hell, but right now, I'm ready to do anything to solve this. Fuck it, I'm gonna go watch Lost in Translation again.

on my knees...

1000 Homo DJs

Between college radio, clubs, and the occasional wedding or party, I've been DJing for 10 years. I've learned a few things along the way, especially while at WSGR-FM. My college radio instructor, Mr. John Hill (no relation to the Jon Hill of Detroit), always told us that if people call in to make a request, you never make promises. You tell them you'll see what you can do, then try to go ahead and play the song, make it work. Whether it was intentional or not, it ties in with the classic tenet of customer service: under-promise, and over-deliver. I also learned that you need to have an ebb and flow of music. You can't play sad bastard music for two hours straight, people will change the channel. You also can't play hawdcoor punk for two hours because it's just too much. Of course, I learned all of the little things, like how to cross-fade and not have it sound like crap. I learned how to wire up a mixing console and how to record with a reel-to-reel recorder. I learned how to connect ten different XLR cables so that I could have someone talking on a microphone outside on campus, while I was in the control room having a conversation with the 'reporter'. I had a 4-hour show every Thursday night from 4pm to 8pm for seven of the eight semesters (including spring/summer semesters) I was there. I learned that one can fit a lot of BS into four hours when you don't have the listeners in your face. Then I moved to Detroit. Within six months, I was DJing at the Garden Bowl on Woodward in midtown Detroit. I've been doing it for a little over six and a half years now, and I've learned a few more things. For one, people can be selfish assholes when it comes to music. I'm going to step on the throat of the next person who asks me to "play something good." For one thing, you're telling me that what I'm currently playing isn't 'good' and you're not really telling me anything at all if I don't know you. DJing in a venue with a very mixed crowd has turned into a truly interesting cultural experience for me. In defending my ethics towards diversity in music, I've had people (attempt to) spit on me, I've had drinks thrown at me, and I've had many, many customers tossed out of the bar for their asshole-ness. This brings me to another interesting phenomenon I've witnessed while DJing in a bar: "black music." Now, don't get me wrong, I know what people are saying when they ask me to play "black music," but I absolutely refuse to buy into the stereotype and racism that comes with that statement. I've also learned that most people who choose to use that term usually aren't prepared for my semantic argument regarding their own racism. Some get mad because they think I'm talking down to them (which I probably am), but most just walk away. You have to learn that if you want something in this world, being nice CAN get you far, not always, but most of the time it will with me. Don't get me wrong, there can be people who are nice but annoyed at me, too. These are usually the people who seem to think they're at a high school dance or a wedding reception. NOT EVERY DJ OWNS OR WILL PLAY "BROWN-EYED GIRL." This is a fact of life that you must learn to live with. Also, many DJs like myself, are not simply robots who are there at the club to play all of your favorite Top 40 hits. I haven't listened to Top 40 radio in years, and I'm not about to start. Some DJs actually DJ because they enjoy providing a distinctive atmosphere, believe it or not. If you want Top 40, go back to the suburbs. If you want watered-down boring hip hop or club hits, go to the clubs downtown. The compliments I've received from regulars, out of town/state/country bands and musicians passing through, the owners of the venue, my friends and others far outweigh the complaints. I'm no idiot. Typical human behavior shows that if one is satisfied or happy with a situation, they won't say anything, but if they're unhappy or unsatisfied, they'll speak up. I know this, so if yr at the bar some night, and I've been playing hip-hop for a half hour, and yr unhappy with it, say something, please, but be intelligent with your suggestions. Don't expect me to know what kind of music you like, and don't insult me. That will only make me want to make fun of you on this site. Thank you to the Zainea family and Ginger for keeping me DJing for the past six years.

(I DJ every Saturday night at the Garden Bowl on Woodward in Detroit. Come see my cynical ass play music.)

ACHTUNG!

Pay attention, kiddies, the world turns every day, more innocent people are killed over commodities, the forests that give us oxygen are cut down to make room for more McDonald's McCows, people's sexual identities are threatened for being un-Christian, and politicians do whatever they gotta do to stay in power over your life. Go over to the list of links on the right, and check out the first 14 or so. Find out what's going on in your world! The national debt has just topped $7,000,000,000,000 for the first time ever. Thanks, Dubya, what else are you going to do to make my life more difficult in this country? Howard Dean is no longer running for president. John Kerry, who probably will be our next president will be the third richest US president ever. Really, let's face it, if you have to pick a lesser of two evils, it's gonna be Democrat, and if you have to pick between John Edwards and John Kerry, you'd probably pick John Edwards, but he's too nice. He's also not rich enough. This wouldn't be America if we didn't have a rich white guy for a president, right? Speaking of rich white guys who could launch us into nuclear war, and still make money off of it, vice president Dick Cheney's starting to stumble. He actually took a presidential jet out to go duck hunting with Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia just three weeks after the high court agreed to hear a White House appeal in a case involving private meetings of the vice president's energy task force. Scalia is claiming there's no conflict of interest. Right. This is the world we live in. Checks and balances, my ass. Ahhh, it must be great to know you can be president or vice-president and know you can do anything you want. Speaking of puppets and their masters, Disney just bought the Muppets! But, wait, it gets better, Comcast (the evil cable/internet provider) is trying to buy Disney in a hostile takeover bid! Yes, your shitty cable provider could own Kermit and Fozzie, but Bert and Ernie's 'relationship' is safe, all Sesame Street characters are not part of the deal. And, on a lighter (but still serious) note, Johnny Cash's song "Ring of Fire" will not be used in a hemorrhoid cream commercial. Thank God, or whatever deity you wish to deal with. That brings me to the last important story of the day: according to E! Online, the WB is cancelling it's 'vampire-with-a-soul-I'm-so-sad-all-the-time-because-I-want-Buffy-but-so-does-big-bad-Spike' series, "Angel." Now we can all rest better knowing that Joss Whedon (creator of Buffy and Angel) will be without a series on the air for the first time in seven years. It will be okay, stop crying, Angel. Buffy died, and everyone dealt with that, too.

City Girl

Thank you, Sofia Coppola (writer/director of Lost in Translation). Now I have My Bloody Valentine and old Jesus and Mary Chain semi-permanently stuck in all the CD players of my life. Music can be given so much new life when its used in a film. I own everything from My Bloody Valentine, and most JAMC, but I haven't listened to that stuff in a long time. I avoided it for awhile because it took me back to a time in my life that I don't want to think about. Now, I associate some of these songs with a good film (see review below). Its been maybe 10 years since I listened to this stuff regularly. Thank you, Mrs. Coppola.

CORRECTION: Sofia Coppola is no longer married to Spike Jonze, so that should read "Thank you, Ms. Coppola." I should note that this makes me happy because while I do like his films (Being John Malkovich, Adaptation, Jackass) and his videos (Beastie Boys, Weezer, a shit-ton more), I can't stand him.

Sometimes When You Sleep I'm Touched

(review of Lost in Translation, the film and soundtrack)

For months, people have been telling me to go and see "Lost in Translation." I kept meaning to do it, but I didn't. Now, it's out on DVD, so I just went and bought it. Just watched it. Bill Murray's character is the culmination of every role he's ever played. He has NEVER been so dry and witty as he is in this film. Scarlett Johansson is no longer the cute restless girl she played in "Ghost World," she's very good at playing a troubled young woman. She's become a seriously talented actress.

In our modern times of fast-paced action and distraction, many people have tired of films that are heavy on dialogue. Fuck them. A film shouldn't need to rely on computer animations and martial arts to be entertaining and worthwhile. "Lost in Translation" brings to mind Richard Linklater's film "Before Sunrise." A man and a woman are caught in a situation where they don't know anyone, they keep finding themselves in the company of each other, and through much dialogue, they grow on each other.

Like any other film heavy on dialogue, this film also features many scenes of quiet contemplation and scenery. This is where the soundtrack comes in. First of all, I'd like to say it's about time a film-maker decided to use music from Kevin Shields and My Bloody Valentine so prominently in a soundtrack. It couldn't be any more appropriate. The rest of the soundtrack features AIR, Squarepusher, and Roxy Music, and oddly most of this music reminds one of My Bloody Valentine. I think a soundtrack is just as important to a film as everything else involved. You could have the best script and actors ever, but it wouldn't matter if the music was wrong. Example: "Trainspotting" would not be "Trainspotting" without the techno. "High Fidelity" would not be "High Fidelity" without the obscure pop, rock, and garage. "Breakfast at Tiffany's" and "The Pink Panther" would not be what they are without Henry Mancini (and "Moon River").

In conclusion, go to Netflix, put "Lost in Translation" at the top of your queue. Stop by Media Play on the way home from work, steal it from Blockbuster, I don't care what you have to do, see this film.

You're Dead

This Friday at Small's in Hamtramck, Bang Bang, MAN Inc, and Disengage will be playing. I highly suggest you go to Bang Bang and MAN Inc's sites to check 'em out. If you like anthemic punk rock in the vein of Hot Water Music (No Division or Fuel for the Hate Game era), you'll want to see Bang Bang. Plus, they're local, which makes it even more important that you go out and support them. I can't describe MAN Inc very well (see earlier posts). He's the one man band, a drum set, bass guitar, and amp. He's angry, he's cynical, he's MAN. Go to the link above and check out the video for "You're Fired," then, go to the show, and buy 'im a drink. He'll need it.

(if anyone knows more about Disengage, let me know, and I'll post that info, too)

Power to the People!

It's 1989. I'm thirteen years old. For some reason, I've grown tired of my Beatles, Beach Boys, and Monkees tapes. I'm disgusted by my mom's Dolly Parton, Neil Diamond, and Carpenters tapes (but they would later grow on me). Sitting in my room, listening to the radio, ready to strangle someone if I hear "Toy Soldiers" from Martika one more time. I don't care if the New Kids on the Block are "Hangin' Tough," they can suck it for all I care. I'm turnin' the dial desperately trying to find something different. All the same crap on all the stations, unless you want to hear sports or news. I had yet to discover and appreciate hip-hop. Something different was needed - more aggression, angst, more emotion. Finally, just to the left of the dial, I find something...a voice yelling about the "united snakes in captivity!" I stopped, and listened to the whole rant. It was beautiful. It was Jello Biafra's "Pledge of Allegiance." Little did I know, but this was my introduction to college radio, and the punk ethos, all at the same time. After Jello's rant, they played "I.C. Water," (a tribute to dead Joy Division singer Ian Curtis) from Psychic TV. Ironically, soon afterward, I would devour all that I could from Joy Division (they're still my favorite band). Every day, when I had the time, I would turn to the college radio station thirsty for more. Years later, I went to the Community College in Port Huron, and got a slot as a DJ on their radio station. That was obvious. Within a year, I was the Music Director. I logged over a thousand hours of airtime while working at WSGR-FM. But, I would never want to work in corporate radio. There was a time when alternative music was referred to as 'college rock' because that was the only place you could hear it: college radio. The history of free-style formats on college radio is long, it goes back as far as the early '60s. Unfortunately, we're living in a time when big money controls all radio. Clear Channel alone owns over 60% of rock n roll radio in this country. So, this means that colleges are feeling the need to push the ideals of corporate radio onto their radio students. College radio is dying, folks. There are few stations left anymore that stick to the traditions of free-form radio. In the Metro Detroit area, there's still WHFR-FM from Henry Ford Community College, WXOU-FM from Oakland University, and CJAM-FM from the University of Windsor. There's also WDET-FM, one of the biggest non-profit radio stations in the country (affiliated with Wayne State Univ, but not actually connected). Elsewhere, another big player is WFMU-FM out of Jersey City, NJ. I know, they're not in the Detroit area, but believe me, this is one hell of a worthwhile non-profit radio station. Go to their site, you can listen to it online. The Canadian station, CJAM-FM, and the Jersey City station, WFMU-FM are your best ticket to hear good college radio. You need to be online (or somewhere in New Jersey/NYC) to listen to WFMU, but if yr readin' this, yr online. Unfortunately, CJAM's listening area isn't very big, but check it out anyway. Support free-form college and non-profit radio! Please keep it alive.

Pump up the volume!

Gweep On!

Once upon a time in Detroit, there was a man. This man, and his brother were inseparable. The men I speak of are most well known as Jon Hill and PT. These days, PT prefers Patrick. I think it may be his way of distancing himself from his past. Jon, on the other hand, has moved on and out of Detroit. I could write a book on these two. There's so much, unfortunately I was just as drunk as them half the time, and can't remember everthing. To protect the innocent (and not so innocent), I'll be brief. Both are union carpenters by trade. Two of the best. They have a long history in Detroit's punk scene of the 1990s. In their early days, Patrick was the drummer for local hardcore band Cold As Life. Both Jon and Patrick played in the local oi/ska band Pist N Broke, bass and drums, respectively. With Pist N Broke, they toured the country playing with many modern oi and punk legends. Flash forward to 1997, this is when I first knowingly encountered the pair. I had seen Pist N Broke play at the legendary Falcon Club in Hamtramck in 1994, but I didn't know them then. I still didn't live in Detroit at that time. In 1997, I started working at a local (Detroit) bar where the two of them hung out all the time. Eventually, I started working Saturday afternoons bartending. I'd get in at 10am, and one of them would be behind the bar, pulling Budweisers out of the cooler for the two of them, but they always insisted that I make their mixed drinks. Yes, for a few years, every Saturday morning, they would start their day with a Budweiser, a rum drink or a shot of Jim Beam with three ice cubes, and a slice of foccacia from the Avalon Bakery. On the surface, both just seemed like a couple of drunks, but there was much more. Jon always liked to make it clear that he was book-smart, and read the paper. He always read the New York Times. Patrick's intelligence always extendend (and still does) more into moral issues. Patrick prefers to keep his soberly intelligent personality at a low profile, it's just the way he is. Here's an example of Jon Hill's antics: A few years ago, there was a conference across the Detroit River in Windsor. I think it was called the Meeting of the Americas, basically a big meeting to discuss globalization. Of course, there were protests in Windsor, but there were a couple downtown in Detroit, too. So, the first morning of the conference, Jon happens to know that a group of protesters were planning on walking downtown en masse (he was dating a lawyer at the time, who was one of the organizers of the protest). It was summer, so there was a picnic table out in front of the bar. It's about 11:30am, and Jon's just sitting out in front waiting to watch the activists walk by. The group passes, and then another man follows about two blocks behind them, he's wearing sunglasses and a hat, and doesn't look all that suspicious. But...Jon knew better. He knew it was an undercover cop following the group. He yelled out at the cop, "Snake bitch!" Less than a minute later, a burgundy unmarked police car pulls up, and two plainclothes cops get out and start yelling. They had Jon up against the wall, and were demanding his identification. Of course, Jon told them he didn't have any, and didn't know he was required to have it. I vouched for him, and said he worked there at the bar (even though, technically, at that point in time, he wasn't an employee. The cops left eventually, but it was funny. Another time, they got this idea in their heads that they were going to borrow an inflatable raft from Honest John's, fill it up with cans of beer, and just drift down the Detroit River - in the middle of the night with no goals beyond just seeing how far they could get. The Coast Guard picked them up somewhere just south of the Ambassador Bridge, and brought them back to the marina by the Roostertail. They also liked to dive off the Belle Isle bridge, which I wouldn't advise to anyone, that current could drag anyone to their death. Like I said above, there's so much, and I wish I could remember all of it right now. The reason I bring up all of this is because I want you to check out Jon Hill's website, Snakehead. Jon is now living in New York City. He was living in Harlem until recently, but now he's moved to downtown Manhattan. Go look at the site, most of it is articles written by others, but it's still fantastically paranoid, nonetheless.

Gweep on, snake bitch!

Le Whiskey Vous rend Fort

Other than the Suicide Girls thing last night, Friday was pretty good in Midtown Detroit. Lots of friends, lots of weirdos, lots of dead cells in my lungs (and brain, too, probably). Anyhow, Friday was good, the Majestic was packed. It was an odd crowd, too, although it's been an odd crowd in there every Friday and Saturday for about two years now. A lot of old regulars came out of the woodwork for the burlesque show. I was really surprised at all the people who showed up for that. I'm not surprised that the show sold out, I knew that was going to happen, sex sells, I was surprised at who did show up, and how many who were pissed that they couldn't get in. I was also surprised at how many people didn't succeed but tried to sneak into the show after it sold out. Sorry Brianna, I tried. Sorry I ashed in your beer by accident, too. I know I replaced it, but I'll get you another one, too. I was just being drunk and stupid (as usual). Everyone should come see me celebrate Valentine's Day tonight where I'll (most likely be getting drunk and stupid) and playing music at the Garden Bowl (9pm-2am). I command it!

FOOTNOTE (the day after): I never did get drunk that night...stupid, maybe, I've been known to do stupid and foolish things, but drunk, no.

"I've had the blues, The reds and the pinks, One thing for sure, Love stinks, Love stinks yeah yeah"

Counterpoint: Ladies, Ladies, Ladies!

So, I was at the Suicide Girls show as well last night, and I do feel a bit slighted. Perhaps its because I felt like I shouldn't have to wade through the creepy burnout types and the skinheads to get up close to actually see something. Maybe its because it wasn't what I thought it was going to be. Maybe I don't know what I thought it was going to be. To be fair, it was a real burlesque show, Suicide Girls style. I am short, 5'6", and that doesn't help. If any of you have ever been to a strip-club, you may have noticed that the rooms are usually set up so that everyone can see what's going on onstage. I expected the Magic Stick or the stage to be utilized in some way where everyone could get a taste of what's going on. Alas, it wasn't. And, the stage is only about 18 inches off the floor, which works fine when you have a band onstage, because with a band, it's not just about the visual aspect, its aural as well. As Dick just commented to me, this show was all about the boobs. I guess. I don't know, I couldn't really see anything. Dick mentioned that maybe he enjoyed it so much because he hasn't gotten any "action" in so long. I think that was the case with many of us, we wanted masturbation fodder for weeks to come. Earlier in the evening, a few of the girls (I have no idea which ones are which) were bowling in the bowling alley downstairs. I happened to be standing at the bowling counter waiting for my friends. One of the girls put on such a "don't you know who I am" vibe to the bowling guy, then got pissed when he made a joke about her shoe size. I think her attitude then was more of a turn on than the whole show upstairs.

Ladies, Ladies, Ladies!

(Another contribution from our guest writer Dick Ivy. This is a review of last night's Suicide Girls Burlesque Show at the Magic Stick in Detroit)

the suicide girls...

13-feb-2004: the suicide girls burlesque show - the magic stick

well, well. many of those who attended the suicide girls burlesque show last night seem to feel slighted somehow. i, however must disagree. i can't remember the last time i actually paid for a show, let alone enjoyed it so much. granted, the opening bands sucked ass, but that's not what i paid for. noone except those in front got to see what they really came for apparently, but i was lucky enough to have my brother joe there to put me up on his shoulders for about 15 minutes. i got to see what everyone else wished they could've seen with a bird's eye view. the small-chested electrical tape goodness that is the majority of the suicide girls experience. i happen to be an advocate for the small breasted woman, the opposite of most every other male that i know. i very much prefer it, as a matter of fact. i had an absolutely fabulous time. who would dare fuck with myself or joe lampinen in the magic stick, you ask? a couple of fat skinheads who obviously didn't know that they were throwing shit at my head in my own bar, that's who. maybe you should move your cow of a girlfriend out of your line of sight before getting pissed at me. i did what i could to try and get them to fight, but they were obviously giant pussies. intimidated by the short skinny guy that would have beaten the ben shermans right off of their hairy backs. i was in the mood to fight, too. what a shame. i'm a bit disappointed that i wasn't able to meet elara or tekky, my favorite suicide girls, but elara always seemed to be busy, according to brandy, and i didn't see tekky at all. brandy, by the way is very sweet, and has a sweetass tattoo of some huge butterfly wings on her back. i really don't understand what there was to complain about, possibly the boobs weren't big enough for some, or maybe they just couldn't see. i guess since i really haven't gotten any "action" in about a year, i may have enjoyed it more than most, but that is just sad, and we should leave that subject alone. i am not one who is much for the objectification of women, but this was an event that everyone enjoyed, male and female. we all enjoyed being objectified. i would have actually liked to have been more objectified, but alas... i should stop using that word because it is starting to sound stupid. i also got to see some people last night that i haven't seen in quite a while, and who i miss terribly, which was also a plus. this was a great time, and anyone who would contest that fact surely gets laid too much. good for you. and fuck you, as well.

Paraskevidekatriaphobia: Fear of Friday the 13th

Courtesy of Working For Change, here are some events from today in history that you probably didn't learn in school:

1635: First public school in the U.S. (the Boston Latin School) is founded.

1837: Flour riot in New York City, early U.S. riot of the poor against property. Six thousand New Yorkers assault local flour merchants who, they claim, are hoarding flour in order to drive up the price.

1874: U.S. troops land in Honolulu, in the independent country of Hawai'i.

1907: English suffragettes storm British Parliament; sixty women are arrested.

1917: Strikes and meetings held in Petrograd factories: beginning of the Russian Revolution.

1945: Over 135,000 killed, mostly civilians, in Allied firebombing of Dresden, Germany. In a three-day period, 3,400 tons of explosives and incendiaries were dropped, reducing six square miles of the city to rubble. Many Allied officials were outraged--Germany was clearly on the verge of collapse, and Dresden was not a German war production city. Dresden had been famous for its artwork and historic buildings until it became the victim of the single most destructive air raid of World War II.

1946: Isaac Woodard blinded by Atlanta police while being abused in custody, less than three hours after the African-American soldier had received his honorable discharge from the armed forces. Immortalized in a Woody Guthrie song, "The Blinding of Isaac Woodard."

1949: Ecuadorian mob burns down radio station following broadcast of "War of the Worlds."

1960: France becomes the fourth nuclear power, conducting first nuclear test in Algaria's Sahara Desert.

1967: U.S.S.R. and China exchange gunfire on Manchurian border.

1970: Women take over underground rock station WBCN in Boston.

1974: Author Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn expelled from the Soviet Union.

1981: Longest sentence ever published by the New York Times: 1,286 words.

1982: Fifteen thousand blacks amd whites attend the funeral of South African trade union organizer Neill Aggett to protest and commemorate his death.

1989: Salvadoran army attacks Encuentros hospital, rapes, kills patients.

1991: During the Gulf War, approximately 400 Iraqi civilians, mostly women and children, are killed during a U.S. laser-guided missile attack on the Amirayah (al-Firdos) fortified bunker on the west side of Baghdad, the capital of Iraq.

1995: Chase Manhattan Bank distances itself from a newsletter produced by its Emerging Markets Group calling on Mexico to "eliminate the Zapatista" rebels in Mexico, according to the New York Times. Authored by Riordan Roett, director of Latin American Studies at the John Hopkins School of Advanced International Studies, analysts pointed to the uprising in Chiapas as a major element in the flight of foreign investors that weakened the Mexican peso. Mexican security forces began a large-scale takeover of former rebel areas on February 9, less than a month after the memo was published. Mexican security forces engaged in widespread violation of the human rights of citizens in the region (which still continues to this day.) Roett also suggested the Mexican government might not find it convenient to honor the results of upcoming elections.

(I suggest you check out Howard Zinn's work if yr interested in more 'little-known' history.)

Something to Play With, Something to Hold

There's a band I have to tell you about. Supposing you like Ween, Gwar, and lo-fi dance music, you'll probably like Fudgie and Fufu. They're from Cincinnati. I can't even begin to explain their sound without the benefit of whatever drugs they're on. Comments in the room today when listening to their song Hack You Up was "that's irritating." Exactly. This band is so fucking irritating, yet I can't stop listening to it.

Pagans, Pagans, Pagans

(Guest post from Dick Ivy. It's a review of the film "The Wicker Man" from 1973)

11-feb-2004: the wicker man (1973)

here's another film that is almost ruined just by being made in the early 70s. don't get me wrong, the film is great, but the music that is used is such hippie shit that it detracts completely from what is going on in the story, which is actually interesting. a scottish police officer investigating the disappearance of a small girl on a remote island discovers that there is more going on there than the inhabitants are willing to tell. pagans, pagans, pagans! the way that the islanders go about their daily lives just as we all do, but with weird creepy twists on everything, could probably be a bit upsetting to some, unless you know any of my friends. the depiction of the pagans is a bit more on the new-age 14 year old girl with a book on "wicca" side than it is on the side of actual ancient celtics, but it is still fairly creepy when it needs to be. the shitty 70s film stock and some of the masks used add an eerie element to the overall effect, as i am assuming that this was meant to be some kind of horror film, even though it doesn't quite seem to fit into that genre. the film does get its point across quite poignantly in terms of making you feel for the pagans as religious outcasts and separatists, and apparently this film was made to somewhat tear at the moral fiber of what most british/scottish believed at the time. for my own personal enjoyment, i think i may spend some time making an edit of this film with some less gay music, because i really do like it otherwise. the ending is great- you really don't expect what happens, and it makes you feel warm all over. stars christopher lee as... well... christopher lee.

Suicide Girls

This one's been a long time coming. Ever since I was 19, sitting in the Deja Vu in Port Huron, and I heard a familiar song come on. It was "The Crablouse" from Lords of Acid. I look up, and I see a pale brunette onstage, and I realize that I know her. I was going to the community college in Port Huron at that point in time. I had a creative writing class where each desk in the class holds two people. Guess who I shared a desk with? Yes, that was uncomfortable. I insisted on leaving. My friend, Buddy, didn't get it. We just got there, and he didn't want to leave. I was so afraid that she was going to see me. I didn't know what to do. Finally, I talked him into leaving. I really didn't want to deal with going to class and sitting next to her next week. Plus, at the time I was hanging out a lot with this girl's ex-girlfriend, and my best friend (female) had a crush on the girl onstage. I barely knew this girl, and I had three odd connections to her. The last thing I needed was to see her dancing naked for money. It was just too weird. But, time moved on, and I went to more strip clubs, mostly in Sarnia (Canada). I was 19, I lived at home, I was very single, made decent money, I could afford it, and I thought, hey, why not? I always went with the same friend, Buddy. Every time we went out, he would meet a dancer and then insist he was in love with her. It was so fucking cliched. He just didn't get it. I actually talked to a lot of the girls, and most of them were from Montreal, Vancouver, or Toronto. College students. It would be really easy to say it's just like the French prostitutes in Montmartre in the summer-time. They're just paying for their education. Through most of my adult life, I've had close friends who were feminists. Progressive feminists, thankfully, so they weren't all man-haters. I usually agree with their opinions and ideals. Yet, I had no problem going to the strip clubs. I guess my issue was that yes, it is objectification, and by being there, I'm supporting it, but I'm not objectifying. I probably was, and I don't go to strip clubs anymore, it just seems boring. It was a teenaged phase for me. So, this brings me to the current issue at hand: the popularity of the website Suicide Girls.

If you're not already familiar, Suicide Girls has become a huge online community. It started as somewhat of a softcore porn site featuring women who prefer body modification and the punk rock lifestyle. Now, you can subscribe to access pictures, journals, and all kinds of other crap. They also have a forum, personals, and classifieds. The success of the site seems obvious. It would be so easy to say it's successful because there are a million middle-aged men out there who love looking at pierced, tattooed, naked women because they're supposedly 'bad-girls'. Right. The site is successful because of the million 16-30-something men and women who are tired of the boring airbrushed pictures you see in Playboy. They want to see real people - people like them. I was talking to a female friend today, and she was saying that she thinks when women obectify themselves, it's appropriation. I think I have to agree with her. Then, my roommate said today that "women need to be objectified because women are things of beauty, and things of beauty are objectified by nature." Some women may say the same of men, and that could be true, but men are coarse, and women are soft. Softness is usually more attractive than being coarse (well, it is to men like me, anyway, and that's the only perspective I've got, deal with it). End-point is that some women may have a problem with sites like the Suicide Girls, but they're doing it for themselves. How is that objectifying? Go see the Suicide Girls at the Magic Stick this Friday (Feb 13th).

We Don't Talk About Love, We Only Want to Get Drunk*

As I type this, a million men around the country are freaking out. Yes, folks, we're three days away from Valentine's Day, aka Singles Awareness Day. Who needs a drink? Christmas is different, but Valentine's Day is a holiday you do not fuck around with if you are in a relationship. Luckily, I'm not, so instead, I'll be following the mantra up there in the headline above: I'll be at the bar. I will be working, and on Saturdays, I work at a bar, so I can't get away from that, but I can guarantee you that I will in fact be drunk by 2am. I'm in my late twenties, and I suppose for some generations, that means I should be married with kids already. My mom was my age when I was in first grade. That messes me up. While I am a bit upset about not being in a relationship, I do not feel that I need to be like her at this age. She has known nothing of Valentine's Day in 25 years. I'm already at 28 years of it meaning nothing. So, here in 2004, I will officially dub February 14th "Singles Awareness Day." Enjoy!

*(the headline comes from the song "A Design For Life" from the album "Everything Must Go" by the Manic Street Preachers. This is the album mentioned in an earlier post that was released after the guitarist/lyricist killed himself)

"Everyone I have ever loved, I will love till I die."

All Is Definitely Right With the World (Almost)

First of all, go check out this site for Horizontal Action magazine. It's all about electric sex rock n' roll. Their next issue is going to feature an article about Human Eye (see post wayyyy below), and they're going to use a picture (not the one right below - I didn't take that!, the pic in the Human Eye post in the archives) that I took for the article.




Second, do yourself a favor, and go out and buy the Kids In the Hall first season DVD set. Yeah, it's $60, but wouldn't you rather go sober for a coupla nights so that you can enjoy these discs forever? Makes sense to me.

Third, we have our internet connection at home once again. I still think Comcast is the devil, but they're not as bad as they once were. You just have to know which buttons to push to get what you want.

Fourth, all is not right with the world because I'm still thinking about Snow White, but I must resist her. I'm glad she's far away in LA, so I can't just drive to her house.

And, last, the temperature didn't go down to freezing all day long today! It's like we're living in Florida or something. Maybe it's true, maybe the hole in the ozone layer really is shrinking, and the gas is being kept in and it's keeping us warm. Right. Next winter will be the first in a 2000 year ice age.

UPDATE: The article for which Horizontal Action will be using my photo is being written by our very own contributing writer Dick Ivy. That's right, kiddies, Dick Ivy's review of the debut Human Eye show will be appearing in Horizontal Action along with a photo that I took. Detroit represents in Chi-town!


Put on a hat it's cold outside!