Failgivers, volume one

I am taking orders for the handwritten version of failgivers, volume one.

This will be an edition of 100.

Failgivers, volume one will be an 80 page, handwritten, canvas bound hardcover book.

Handwritten, as in all 100 copies will be handwritten by myself.

Each book will also have hand painted covers and will be hand numbered....so basically, each one is unique.

Failgivers, volume one is a collection of writings from the years of 2006-2007 and is the first of three volumes.

The price (including shipping) is $120 per book.

The books will be numbered in order of purchase. So, if you are the fifth person to purchase the piece, you're number book will be 5/100.

All orders will be shipped via priority mail. If an order is made in mid-december and you need it by christmas, please add an additional five dollars for express mail.

Any other questions or inquiries about the purchase of multiple copies, please email me at:

failgivers@gmail.com

Again.....hand written, hand painted, hand numbered and limited to 100.

here's a story that sums me up quite well

About six years ago, M. Gira's latest project, Angels of Light, was playing the middle east downstairs in Cambridge, Mass. It was a shitty late winter weekday. I say shitty so that most of you who hate winter can relate. I love winter. I love the cold. I'll take that shit over a "beautiful" summer day any time. Fuck summer and fuck spring. Give me whites and greys over greens and blues and I'm good to go.

Sidenote: Isis opened this show. This was both wierd and awesome. I remember walking down the stairs and hearing an incredibly loud and heavy band playing and I thought to myself, "who the hell is this and why are they playing this show?". As soon as reached the room I could see that it was Isis. I think this was before Oceanic came out and they were playing all new material, which explained why I had no idea what I was walking downstairs into. I love watching a band that doesn't fit on the bill...it's like rooting for the awesome underdog that half the crowd could care less about but you get to sit there and have the time of your life.

Okay, back to the real story. Back to Angels of Light.
Of course, I went. Of course, I made myself look like an idiot.
This was not the first time I'd seen Gira perform, but it was the first time I thought I would get the chance to meet him.
The venue wasn't even half full, but those in attendance all had thier eyes focused intently on the stage. Every epic song was followed by a sort-of uneasy quiet, where Gira would say something in a low voice, trying to almost not be heard.
So, here's the fucked up part. The band made it through a good three-quarters of thier set before they were told that they have time for "one more song". Yeah, because of the wonderful Cambridge music curfew. There is an actual person who has to go up and tell this man that his band can only play one more song. I wouldn't be able to do this...especially at this show. How do you tell a goddamn musical icon that he has to stop playing before he wants to? Seriously....how?
It was obvious to everyone there that he (gira) was completely furious / disgusted. Rightly so. He exchanged some words (calm words) with the man who had to tell him this before he approached the microphone and said in so many words, "Well, everyone....looks like this is our last song. For some reason they've decided we're not good enough to play our full set. Anyone else find this completely ridiculous?"
This set off a minor wave of utter dissappointment in all of us who where there to watch the man do what he does. And there were those that were quite vocal about thier opinions of the club telling him to stop playing.
Gira simply looked out at all of us, pulled one of those half smiles that all older man have and said back to us, "I know...I know. But, don't worry. We'll be back very soon and you can rest assured we'll never play this goddamn place again. We'll play somewhere that appreciates art and music and doesn't worry about how much the bar has made....this is our last song and we thank all of you..."
Moments like that are hard to come by, at least the way I see them. He said it so perfect and at that very moment you could see the man who spent his life bleeding expression and would not let anyone get in his way. You saw a glimpse in his eyes of a young, bitter man still battling a world of regulations.
They played that last song. It felt extra intense, more because you could tell they were not ready to be done. The applause lasted five minutes, with everyone not wanting him to have to step down.

Ten minutes later, once all had settled and he had a few moments to gather himself, Gira retreated to the back merch table, which I had avoided up to this point, knowing full well I'd want one of everything I saw. He was signing copies of a special tour-only acoustic cd he had recorded by himself, complete with hand-drawn covers.
So, it's pretty much a given that I was buying one....and with this was my chance to finally meet the man who molded my approach to lyric-writing, who had fueled countless late night hours hidden behind a notebook. I stood in line for about fifteen minutes before it was my turn. Every time another person left the table I'd look up ahead to see how many more were left, all while trying to think of anything I could say that would be considered important enough to express. Finally, the girl ahead of me had finished her brief encounter.
There, sitting at a chair, was a quiet, older man looking tired.
I was face to face with the one and only Michael Gira.
Michael Gira of Swans.

Unfortunately, I kept telling myself this instead of saying anything.
I suddenly snapped out of it, realizing he looked slightly confused. That may have had to do with the fact that I had the dumbest look on my face I'll ever have in my life.
The older man just simply smiled, tipped his hat and quietly said, "hello..."
to where I responded in an almost shouting voice, "HI!!!!!".

Oh, man....you're going to fuck this up. You goddamn idiot.

I wrote this "HI" in all capital letters because that's how it sounded in the quiet room, now that most had left. All of those except for the ones waiting behind me, who found this quite hysterical.
Once I had shrieked my greeting, he became completely and utterly entertained by me. A smile came to his face that, now that I think back, was more him trying not to laugh. I'm okay with that.

He then pointed to the cd I had in my hands and asked, "Would you like me to sign that?"
I had to think about this.

He's talking to you. He's asking you a question. Normal, well adjusted, non-psychos respond. You should pretend you're normal. That might help to get through this. Respond. Respond. Respond.

Why I had to think about this, I have no idea. But about five seconds silence was followed by a "yes.....please." said in a voice I'd like to think was at least a bit more calm.
I handed him over the cd and asked me my name. I told him and he made a personalized note on the disc for me and everything was amazing. He handed it back, tipped his hat once again and said, "Thank you, Ryan. Have a good night."
Michael Gira told me to have a good night.
Awesome.

I'm so proud of you!! You made it through unscathed. Now just say "thank you" and be on your way. You've met the man. He knows your name. All is well and you have a great new memory.

I had taken the disc back, smiling from ear to ear and said to him, quiet, composed and oversure of myself at this point,
"Awesome. Thank you for this. You have a good night as well. Thanks...."

No....

See how that last "thanks" of mine trails off with dots? There's a reason for this. Since that moment, I've thought long and hard about it, and I don't think "thanks" was the last thing I said to him.

No....

I'm almost positve I said, "thanks, dude."
I'm almost positive I called Michael Gira of Swans a dude.
I'm almost positive I'm a complete fucking asshole.

I need to go listen to greed/holy money.

......and?

i'm watching a film with what has to be THE worst subtitles i've ever encountered....unreadable by any means.

....yet, i keep the film on.

i'll be away / on the road for about 9+ weeks starting 14 days from today....if anyone out there actually reads these things, come out and we'll talk....
if i seem antisocial, MAKE me talk.
really.
human interaction is good....i just need to get better at it.

i get to be on tour with bands i truly, truly enjoy....not just ones that i feel i may have a good time with, but bands that have songs that have, at one time or another, been stuck in my head for days on end.
unfortunately, i'm willing to bet there a lot of people that take shit like this for granted.....i guess i have no choice but to be appreciative, considering i spent years playing shows to no one in the middle of nowhere.....make no mistake, though....i still loved every second of it.

fuck it...i'm restless.
i've always been restless.
my leg twitches 24 hours a day like i should be doing something....and that something i should be doing is exactly what i plan on doing for the next few years.

i make no money,
i have almost no teeth,
i have almost no big dreams.....except maybe to sustain a living off of the art i live and breathe.

i keeep telling my back and my legs to give me another 5 years, and once that passes by, they can break down like i know they will.

i turn 30 in less than a month.....goddamn i feel young.

go now.

i'm trying to force some writing out for no particular reason. somehow, even though i have things written for the next umpteen million works, i'm still acting as though i have nothing.
it's really quite ridiculous.

i quess i just have to finally get used to the fact that i'm not an every day type writer.....and once i get used to it, i then have to accept it.

seattle has welcomed me back with warmer than expected weather....i'm not too thrilled with this, and if it persists, we may have to exchange harsh words.

i fucking love m. gira.

angels of light "we are him"......brilliant.

but seriously.....

i have an amazing girlfriend.

record needles, a french press, a black denim jacket and a green light for tour shenanigans.

yes, yes, yes.

dayquil ramblings

quick recap of the last few weeks:

dudefest......best fest ever. insanity all around.

the midwest and it's oppressive heat.....not awesome.

i have gotten to see many old faces, i've made new friends from foreign countries, and i'm in a van doing what i love to do.

things are good.

my 2 days in nyc were completely fantastic....i have now convinced myself i could live there and have a hell of a good time.

i got to see disfear last night and innebriated myself into a very exciting evening.
it was also uplifting to find out cute girls find gnarly road-wrecked dudes attractive enough to buy them a beer (even if i don't like beer.....i still was polite and drank it.....i mean, she was REALLY cute)

tonight's show in boston had great moments and i was able to see many an old familiar face.

3 dates left until i start my trek back to seattle for about 7 weeks.....then i get to do this all over again in the glory of autumn weather.....

let's just say scuba and i will not sleep one moment with the amount of coffee that will be taken in on that tour.....which basically means it will be awesome.

yeah....things are good.

procession

the van will be packed and we'll be on our way to indianapolis tonight around midnight.

we'll spend the next five days polishing up the set, and the tour begins next friday at dudefest.
come out and rage.

i've been practicing for my month long saltine and hot sauce binge with occassional coffee and luna bars.
i live a very healthy road lifestyle....i usually come back bruised, scraped and frail as a motherfucker....very entertaining to look at.

in other news, "seance prime" has been mastered and dropped off at deathwish...looks like it will come out some time in october if all goes as planned.

i am reading george orwell's "1984" for the first time....i've never seen the film, so when i finish these last hundred pages, i'll be hunting down a copy to watch.

fucking viva.

run

I have two days left before i leave seattle for almost six weeks. Thursday i fly into jfk airport in glorious mid-summer nyc.....should be really comfortable and exhilerating.

i will be attending my sister's wedding this weekend, complete with relatives unseen for over a decade, walking my mother down the aisle, and dining at an upscale, downtown restaurant.

i haven't had to wear "pants" or a "dress shirt" in quite a while....i think most will be surprised i still exist, since i did such a spectacular job of severing ties with any and everyone.

following this weekend of mammoth celebration, i'll be headed back to new england. four days with my mother, where we'll talk art, she'll (unsuccessfully) try to convert me to christianity, and we'll make amazing vegan food that will make me wish i could eat like i used to be able to.

then to salem, nh. roughly a day or two of practice in nh before we drive to providence to pick up the van. we'll then drive back to nh, load up and head out to indianapolis.

there, we will spend an intense week of practicing new songs so that the two new members will be all shiny and rip roaring once our tour begins at dude fest.

so, thanks to the wondrous glory that is the elliot bay used book store, i found "yes, yes, y'all - the oral history of the first ten years of hip-hop" for a whopping $7.95. if only some other desperate soul would sell back all the ego trip books, i'd be great.

seriously, it's not possible to comprehend how amazing this book is. from the candid photos to the vintage flyers dating as far back as 1975/76. reading the first hand stories of setting up battles in the park, and dealing with the gangs that ran / frequented the early clubs / shows....it's just a fascinating read.

also read last week was the newest chuck palahniuk novel, "rant".

i have a confession: i did not read diary, haunted, or stranger than fiction.

NOT because i thought i wouldn't like them....actually it was the exact opposite. I knew i'd like them.....i knew they'd be brilliant, so i just didn't bother with them, knowing full well i'd get to them someday. I probably would have done the same thing with "rant" if it wasn't, once again, for the elliot bay used books section. it caught my eye and was one of those "can't refuse" moments....i had forgotten it came out the week before and here i am already looking at a used copy....i shall take it, thank you.

it's a quick read, but it's another in chuck's long line of novels leaving you going, "are you fucking kidding me?....how do you think of this shit?"

needless to say, i'll be picking up diary, haunted, et. all very soon.....and there's news on one of his sites talking of another novel on the way called "snuff".....i have a brain boner already.

and, it looks like some of his novels may finally make it to the big screen....way to get on the ball, hollywood...good thing it took you almost a decade since "fight club" to do something....and if you weren't so scared of offending the general public, "survivor" should have already been made, but you took the safe road.

on a prticularly frustrating and/or hopeful note.....i'm not sure if "insomnialways" zine #1 will be done by dudefest.....1-may not be able to afford it until fall, & 2- i want it to not be a piece of shit....i mean, it will mostly just be stories, anti-essays, and various writings, but i want it to be somewhat good.

and, i'd like to learn to use a computer a little so that it looks alright.

spiritstench

i am in the beginning stages of learning to drink my coffee without sweetener of any kind.

it tasted weird at first, but the more i sip, the more i like it....it seems more harsh, just like me when i wake up.

i'm going to say this once and only once. against me's "new wave" is a classic. a fucking modern day triumph of goddamn epic proportions.

"insomnialways" issue one is taking shape.

i have some good ideas for other issues following the initial one...i have to make sure people give about half a shit before i follow through with them.

i have another showing of my paintings that will begin next thursday at the elliot bay cafe here in seattle. The art walk is from 6pm - 9pm, but if anyone cares to take a look, they'll be up for the entire month of july over there. Once they are taken down, and i'm back from tour in late august, i'll be posting pictures of the work on the other page.

i'm going to go work on projects and watch "fear and loathing in las vegas" for the first time ever.

really.

i know....more like poser extraordinaire.

open season

i've created another site for my paintings, and the "sleepwell deconstructor" series is up.
you should go check them out and spend a little money.


the link is in the "about me" section on this here page.

better photos coming...

vacant

i have been busy.

since the last time i put anything up here, the following has been done:

-the recording of trap them's debut EP for deathwish, titled "seance prime"

-i have finished the series of paintings i have been working on for a long amount of time. I'll actually talk about them now.

I did a set of twelve paintings, each one depicting a song from trap them's "sleepwell deconstructor" release.

twelve songs, twelve images.

i'm quite proud of them....more because when i think back, it seemed much easier than it actually ended up being, and now that they are complete, it feels like a damn fine accomplishment.

they will be / are for sale.

as soon as i have good enough photos of each piece, i will be putting them up online for people to see and hopefully some of you are interested to the point of wanting to own one (or two).

- i am doing a zine. nothing special, but this is something i've wanted to do for more than a decade, but never actually followed through with. The first couple i do will be small runs until feel i can do what i want.

it will be a collection of writings, essays, stories and whatever else i want to put in there. I've waited so damn long, i owe it to myself to do whatever i want with them, and that's the way it'll be.

the first one will be ready for trap them's summer tour with perth express that begins at dudefest.....probably a run of 50 or 100.

lately:

distort-

entombed - serpent saints

hellacopters-by the grace of god

death breath - let it stink

abc weapons "process of decay" 12"

wolfbrigade - everything in prep for their new LP that will destroy me

distort outside of sweden-

new baroness songs

burned up bled dry 7"s

stormcrow / sanctum split LP

fucked up "year of the pig" and BBC session

phobia "cruel" LP

pig detroyer "phantom limb"

lately:

celluloid / digital media-

awful truth seasons one and two

karate kid - special edition

reno 911 : miami

hot fuzz - over and over again.....this is one of the best action / thriller / comedies ever made

last couple things......do yourself a favor and watch vice tv.....it's good journalism, i don't care what any jaded fuck has to say.

and, dear boyfriends with pregnant girlfriends,

seriously, don't even think about killing her. just leave. it blows me away that all of these idiots still think they can get away with murder. news fucking flash-- you will ALWAYS be the first suspect, moron. and they will almosts ALWAYS catch you or get you to admit to it.

i mean.....why? because she's preganant?

dude, just leave. It may make you a shitty, shitty guy.......BUT YOU'RE NOT A MURDERER.

why in this day and age does this still happen?

i could go on, but i don't need to. it's a given....everyone (mostly) feels the same way.

no death sentence....make him sit in a cell and rot away, thinking about his stupidity every waking moment.

on a lighter note, i made vegan hot pockets from scratch and that shit rules.

passover on pike st.

tonight i took a time travel machine back to the late 60's....it was inside neumo's and it brought me to a point where every band was fronted by a bearded, fuzzed out young man, and the music they made had an impact that couldn't quite be described.

they sang songs about war and the damage it does to everyday lives.

they put their heart and soul into the most beautiful and defiant sounds that these ears could ask for.

if i took acid, tonight would have been a good night for it.

the black angels - probably one of my favorite bands to watch...ever.

what the fuck is "the looking glass"?

i have had a busy week.

lots of old faces that bring out new excitement.

acrylic bliss is very much in effect, and i'm almost ready to discuss what this bliss entails.

try as i might, my stereo just keeps asking for more partners in crime records....who am i to refuse?

i love knowing that everything i appreciate musically can be found in the dollar 7" bins....i love knowing i'll never grow out of my appreciation of all layouts that look photocopied and similar.

the fucking d-beat.....forever.

playlist for the last few days:

new severed head of state 12"

behind enemy lines - one nation under the iron first of god LP

assault - s/t LP

breathing fire - demo 7"

hatred surge / endless blockade split LP

disfear - brutal sight of war 10"

deathreat - discography CD

sage francis - human the death dance

tomorrow ups will be delivering me a new batch of d-beatness, and i'll have a party by myself....party favors will be canvas and paintbrushes.

high point of the day so far:

finally finding whole foods and a shit ton of tofurky products are on sale.

plus, a brand new jar of peanut butter.

and seeing an old friend...it's been five long years....there'll be a lot of catching up to do.

this all reads like a journal entry, and i'm disgusted with myself for it, but my mind is on overload.

and, in one month from right now, i'll have "seance prime" in my hands and in my ears....fucking riot eternal.

distortion on high

the disruptdead box set is oh so amazing.

acrylic bliss is in it's beginning stages, and all will be well as soon as all the images in my head for the last 3 weeks finally reemerge.

i get to see phobia for the first time in five years on sunday. it will smell and sound perfect.

donuts, man.....fucking donuts.

a little gift from the distorted heavens

walking into a record shop and seeing a new severed head of state 12" that i was not aware of: priceless.

also, finally getting to hear the new brutal knights LP, "feast of shame" : uber-priceless.

a mighty-o french toast donut, multiple pots of coffee, and two working feet were the other hi-lites of the day so far.

today was the first warm(er) day since i've been out here. so, i went out in just a short sleeve shirt. THIS is why i don't like warm weather....for the next few hours, every two to three minutes i had to hear or answer the following:
"dude, lemme take a look at those tats!...."
"how much did all that cost you, buddy?...."
"nice ink, pal....where'd you get all that done?...."
etc., etc., etc.

bullshit.

also bullshit? fed ex.
thanks for nothing, bastards.

wild step goose step chase step

my thirst for cinematic viewing satisfaction has been quenched today.

afternoon delight: the edukators

i've probably watched this film a good dozen times or so in the last year and a half....it gets better every time. when jan and jule are on the rooftop discussing the need to never hault revolutionary actions, it's almost kleenex worthy. pretty much everything out of jan's mouth in this film is a quotable.

evening double feature:

criminal

john c. reilly as a grifter. ten thousand double crosses and twists. i eat that shit up. clooney and soderbergh co-produced it, which usually means exactly what happened after i watched this film tonight.....i say, "fuck....when are you two going to screw something up?"

not that it matters, but they earned my respect when i read they offered argento a large sum of money and complete creative control to do a film of his choice.

dot the i

as i said....twists and double crosses are my bread and butter. i won't blah blah blah this one. it's a love triangle that turns into an almost memento-like thriller. great, great film.

no acrylic bliss was had today. no canvas was sitting under a ray of light with sirens calling out my name.

instead, i went grocery shopping. this would, for most people, be a pretty straight forward affair, but i somehow turned spending thirty dollars on necessities into a four hour marathon.

no, i did not purchase all my items at seperate stores....just one store.

i had decided that there must be a closer supermarket than the one i have been bussing / walking to, so i did some internetational investigation. lo and behold, i was to have TWO whole foods supermarkets right in my neighborhood. i took note of directions, and headed out of the apartment at noon.

sidenote: the hills.....oh, the hills. my thighs hurt as i type this.

fast forward two hours. fast forward to me still within 0.2 miles of my place, still walking and searching.

there is no whole foods.

there are places and supermarkets to get some of the things i need, but i wanted whole foods.

and i was frustrated.

unfortunately, when i get frustrated, i do stupid things. today's stupid thing was that i suddenly snapped out of my determined walk, realizing that with every step i was saying out loud "wild goose chase".

as in:

"wild" step "goose" step "chase" step

repeat

repeat

repeat

i finally gave up, and even though i could feel a blister tearing the bottom of my left foot, i decided to walk to my regular grocery store instead of just taking a bus.

why?

i like to overwork my body so that when i finally do sit down, i just collapse.

i made sure to buy the essentials:

chocolate peanut butter

coffee

garlic hummus

and the most delicious multi purpose pita bread ever made.

multi purpose because it has, of late, been made as a morning treat grilled to perfection with natural peanut butter and a hint of chocolate chips.

i want to sell another fifty percent of my possessions for reasons that will hopefully become clear in the next few months. once i have a thought, it won't quit until i do it.....so all these plans in my head will come to fruition sooner than later, pretty much a fact.

insomnia theatre will present a night of mgm midnite movies....this was one of the best series of b-films ever released, and i bought every one. a big fuck you to sony for acquiring mgm and then ditching the series. this was something i looked forward to every year.

tomorrow....

acrylic bliss or die. fed ex better not fuck me on this.

prelude to acrylic bliss

let's just assume we're in an alternate reality.

if this was the case, i would be knee deep in new canvas frames, all ready for me to cover in nonsensical arrangements that somehow will be sold for large sums of money and/or bartered for the following: premium kona coffee (NOT kona blend...the real shit....the real real shit), records, jellybeans, and a little pabst for the lady.

i love walking around this city. I spend a good 3 hours a day taking mini trips to no certain destination in particular....it's more just being out in a sea of people, and having the satisfaction of knowing that not one of them knows my name or gives a shit what i do.

i like taking the bus, and giving my seat to an elderly woman who doesn't expect me to.

i like being extremely polite and well spoken when i go into any retail establishment, more to watch the expression on people's faces, as if you're the only one that hasn't talked to them like complete shit.

the FOX network execs should be dragged out into the street and shot dead for cancelling arrested development....it's disgusting how a show as brilliant as this got an axe. i consider it a true american show for this reason.....just like the living and breathing, it's always the smart but misunderstood ones that get left behind.

I find that bryan maclean's voice is one of the most soothing sounds i will ever hear, and both his releases of collected songs on sundazed will go down as lifetime ear candy of mine.

absolutely and simultaneously haunting and beautiful.

one month from today i fly back out to new hampshire, and two days later will begin recording "seance prime".

i'm not quite sure how to explain how excited i am for this. i'm in a band making music that is everything i've always wanted to do. Not many people get to say that...there are always things you want to accomplish but never get a chance to, and for the first time i am able to say that things feel right. This is not to say i still don't spend days at a time with my head in my hands and an overwhelming pain in my heart and back.

that's part of the harsh reality of living with a manic and bipolar personality. unless you take medication, the highs are most of the time outweighed by the lows. the only thing you can really do is deny the lows any leeway. this involves waking from two hours of sleep, and forcing yourself out of bed so that you don't stay there for days on end, which i will readily admit would be all to easy to do.

my stress pains lately have been oppressive, to put it mildly.

not much else to say about that.....it's nothing new. looking back, i've been playing this game with myself since about the age of five. it's weird....i have flashbacks to my younger years, and now knowing what i'm like, and the personality disorders i have, i remember certain times that foreshadowed what was to / has come.

i don't know if fed ex delivers on sundays, but if they do, i'll be need deep in acrylic bliss tomorrow.

if not.....sunday will be book day.....and "find a show" day. i spent a couple years hermitizing myself, and though i don't regret it, i'm elated to be dragging myself back into an environment that i leave with a million new ideas a night.

i'd like to find a good two dozen lost souls out here that want to create music with me, and i'd like to spend every waking moment making sounds and speaking in tongues that the majority of modern society will never understand.

i told someone important to me one time that most people have that one ability or legacy that they will carry with them throughout their pulsed existence.....i was born to fuck things up....and that's what i plan to do.

archives

written upon landing at logan airport april 9th, and wandering aimlessly in and out of coffee nooks in providence, rhode island the next morning:

There are two possible ways to prepare for a tour, no matter how big or how small.
There's the right way, which involves everything being taken care of well ahead of time. This would include, but not be limited to:
all shows being booked
all records pressed far in advance
all your shit being straight.
This is, by all means, the right way.
Then, of course, there is the other way. My way.
Take the list I have given above, and basically reverse all of them or put the words "don't have" at the beginning of each item.
My way, while not as efficient, is much more exciting. When everything is taken care of, you don't get that same feeling of panic and anxiety that I have christened as the "days before" syndrome.
I'd like to consider myself an authority on the "days before" syndrome being as there has not been one tour, whether it be six days or six weeks, that I have not become an insomniac leading up to.
It's quite impressive now that I think back on it.
Yeah, definitely an authority.
As a small back story that can be considered further documentation of how I like to make things more difficult, two months ago I packed up my belongings and moved four thousand miles away from my band.
Why?
Well, why not?
Isn't the feeling of execution a tad bit sweeter when you have to overcome a certain level of logistics?
Yeah.....I think so, too.
So, I live in Seattle, Washington. The rest of the members live in or around New Hampshire. I moved almost as far away as possible within the confines of these here states. Before flying back for this tour, I have spent the last three days, with the help of a friend, screenprinting 250 LP covers. I also made buttons with the image of a vicious, eight pound chihuahua who goes by the name "boris".
And, I've tried to book the shows that aren't booked. When you get in panic mode, as anyone who books a tour will tell you, you will take anything. Since the last show has still not been booked, I am offcially in panic mode and will be accepting the first offer made. This usually makes the person booking the tour feel better, but leaves the rest of the band with that sort-of "I hope you know what you're doing" expression on their collective faces.
Upon completeing the printing of said LP covers, I had to decide whether or not I trusted the united states postal service to deliver the items on time. I, being of the trust no one approach, came to the realization that in no way am I willing to rely on a delivery service to make sure things go according to plan. So, instead of packing clothes and numerous personal items for the stretch in the van I forfeited personal stimulants in favor of bringing the covers as my luggage. As I'm becoming more and more obsessed with minimalism, this seems to be something I knew I would do all along. My luggage consisted of paper, five pairs of both socks and underwear, and two shirts. I used my man-purse to carry on my laptop and a book, and that was it.
Quite impressive.
If only superficial self sacrifice in some way gave you better seats on a plane, I would have been more than well off. Instead, especially when you buy whatever random cheap tickets you can find, you end up nestled snug inbetween two bitter rocks from hell. In this case, those rocks were a repulsed older woman who might as well have been told her first born was murdered the moment I said to her, "I think this is my seat", and a couple so in love sitting next to me that felt it was thier duty to eat each others faces for the entire duration of the five hour flight, that my head seemed moist from the amount of saliva being leaked from the sides of each of thier mouths. There's not much worse than messy public-display-of-affection engineers.
You tend to be willing to eat whatever bagged snack they throw at you as if it was the very item your taste palate had been craving. Graham crackers? Hell yeah! Dry roasted peanuts? Of course! You lose every good judgement you have the moment free food and drink is offered. Repeatedly, I will get my diet carbonated beverage, poured delicately into a plastic glass filled to the brim with ice, and repeatedly I nurse my little beverage until the last half hour off the flight where it has become watered down and brutally cold. You can't throw away a full cup of liquid on a plane...it's, from what I've gathered, an unwritten moral rule as to not create a mess for those working. Instead, while the stewardess walks towards me in slow motion (for good measure, play the terminator 2 theme while picturing all of this) I down the waterlogged ice cold soda as to prove to her and my surrounding passengers that I, too, understand the plight of the working plane girl and would like nothing more than to make her every day duties proceed as smooth and without roadblockery as possible. In doing this, I have sacrificed a comfortable stomach and have given myself the worst fucking freeze brain imaginable. I feel like a stroke victim and fall back in my tiny uncushioned seat, prepared for my left eye to slowly burst out of the socket.
The plane lands, freezebrain slowly creeps out of my immediate area, and all is well in logan international airport at eleven forty-five pm.
Now, if I can just find some soy creamer and an open coffee shop.
We're talking about insomnia here.....why bother to stop drinking the magic potion just because it's nightfall? No matter what I do or don't do, I know i'm not falling asleep. Pretty much ever again.
So, coffee it is.

in the beginning, there was fuck-all

There's really no good way to start a conversation anymore. Not that the conversation won't be engaging, it's more the question of how to tell someone you're planning on doing everything the wrong way because you're convinced thirty years after you die it will be decided you've been right the whole time.
Living the head of a clusterfuck is not only a great deal of pointless work, but also a matter of unexplainable sacrifice and dedication. I mean, you REALLY have to want to do everything wrong just to make a dent in the "what are you doing with your life?" sweepstakes.
I've heard the expressions "big things" or "bigger things" placed on numerous, plentiful banners for as long as I can remember. Not to say it's directed towards myself (though, I have heard it on occassion....), but more on an underlying base that everything and everyone is dropped on with no real start or ending destination.
I don't know what it means, nor do I think I want to know. Imagine living a good full century waiting for your "big things" to happen, and on your dying day, some random bastard walks into your home, taps you on the shoulder and whispers into your wrinkled ear, "it happened when you were eight years old.....you won the second grade spelling bee."
Shit.
Are you kidding me? Second grade?
This, by the way, will not be happening to me because I never won a spelling bee, though I came close in the fifth grade until I studdered and added an extra "o" to the word neighbor, therefore terminating my as-yet ignited legacy.

As far as "big things" that are supposed to be milestones in your life, I have done my best to ruin them or avoid them early on. As this is being written, I sit in front of the keyboard as unemployed, divorced, unable to reproduce, bipolar and antisocial.
All before the age of thirty.
Let the good times roll.

I guess we can assume this is my "big thing".....my "what are you doing with your life?" for dummies. Shit, they've made them for everything else.

insomnianswers

dear failgiverous self....i had such high hopes for you, and then i went and all but abandoned you for two months....my bad.

maybe if i finally put up all the shit i've written in the last eight weeks, your ulcer will settle.
maybe?

in the meantime, here are the events, sounds, and visuals that have been my life'sblood.

Celluloid:
The Stratosphere Girl
Boyz n the Hood
Pollack
Blow-Up
Stoned

Distortion, Blips, Bleeps, Strumming, and uncomfortable noise:
Parts & Labor - stay afraid & live @chop suey, seattle
C.aarme - Vita
Bryan MacLean - Candy's Waltz
World Burns to Death - totalitarian sodomy
adult. - live @ chop suey, seattle
Rise and Fall - into oblivion
Sweet Cobra - 3 songs from new LP & live in chicago
CocoRosie- adventures of....
Triumph of lethargy skinned alive to death - live @ showbox, seattle
Motorhead - ace of spades deluxe edition
the horror - live @ lit lounge, nyc
Architect - all is not lost & live @ siren records, PA
Amy Winehouse - all
Born Dead Icons - all
and more...much more. Muisc has never played such a prevelant role in my life as it does at the moment and i plan to kep it that way.

General insomniawesomeness:
-spending time in a van, and playing music to new faces for the first time in 4 years.
-the maniac mansion in worcester, ma....blood, bodies, and broken bottles everywhere....the most perfect tour kickoff i could have ever asked for
-spending quality bro-down time in brooklyn with the one and only scuba, one of the most solid dudes i will ever have the pleasure of knowing
-ridiculous amounts of natural peanut butter on luna bars
-seeing an old friend in louisville that i wasn't sure i'd ever have the chance to see again....another steve, another amazing dude
-the new trash art motto sweepstakes
-atlas in bklyn....vegan crepes. fuck.
-coming back to furniture in the apartment
-smash coffins with black hair
-Critical Space by Greg Rucka
-vegan garden "chicken nuggets"
-mastering the art of the 5 ingredient peanut butter cookie
-coffee, soy creamer, and daily three to four hour walks around seattle. I love this city already.
i was born to be surrounded by bricks and concrete.
-"seance prime" lyrics

primetime

I'll be recording the audio version of the "failgivers, volume one" book this week....my best friend, and only true partner in musical crime, brian izzi, will be providing background music and noise on selected parts.
I'll have more info soon, but i'll be handwriting 100 copies of the book in a hardcover version....they'll have hand painted covers.
yeah, really....handwritten. Not that i think this will be anyone's favorite book ever, but i thought of how intimate and rare it would be to have the opportunity to own a piece of written work that has been literally transformed into a piece of art.
maybe 2 people will buy it...maybe all 100 will sell...i'm not too concerned....it's more something i'm doing for myself.

volume one was started in march of 2006, and was finished in august.
So, to keep the timeline patterned, i'll begin volume two in march of 2007.

weakened warriors

in two weeks and 3 days, i'm packing shop and heading west ....my horse will be a toyota camry....to be 29 and be able to fit almost all of my worldy possessions in one half of this car makes me feel pretty great.

i've downsized more in the last 2 months than i ever figured i would have to again.....but, it just kept going, and i kept realizing i needed less and less shit.

from a year ago at this point, i have half the records, half the cd's, and probably about a tenth of the dvd's that i had. i now have a bunch of books and a shitload of canvas with paint all over it.

today i downsize some more, getting rid of unneeded record cubes and shelves, and tomorrow ii'll be storing my paintings for the next 2 months while i settle into the new surroundings.

the walls are bare.
the air is cold.
and the music is playing loud.

while all of this moving is going on, i'm booking a tour, and trying to make things happen that should be happening.
i've said it before, but i'll say here again....i plan on living my thirties like i should have lived my twenties, which is acting like a stupid fucking teenager.
some of us are born to fuck things up...it's what we're good at.
some of us are born to spread the gospel of distortion.
all hail feedback.


some recommended veiwing/listening/reading that has taken me hostage in the last few days:
author michel faber

the only show that matters


fin.
rjm

first words, last laughs

while writing this, the first post i'm making, i was interrupted by the blinding glare of the sun coming out from behind an enormous grey cloud.
and there, for the first time, i actually witnessed a silver lining.
bizarre.

as time goes on, this blog will be used for random rants, updates on publications, and to showcase certain works of art of mine that i feel like sharing.

sentences will not be sentences, almost everything will not be capitalized, and it will be done just like how i think...which means very scattered, very untraditional, and...very bipolar.