Author: hugh

Back in Gold

Hudson River sunset, spring
Golden Brown, texture like sun

This blog was down all day as I have one of the “cheap hosts.” That’s all I’ll say about it except that I’m glad it’s back as I was wanting to blog all day– except now that I had to be uppity with the tech support and I’m not going to blog about that, I’ve lost the essay steam.

I saw Teenage Jesus and the Jerks last week and Lydia Lunch blew my mind. I hung out with her and Cesar in New Orleans for a day or two in the early 90s. At that time, Lydia was a retired no wave punk and a poet. Holy hell. She hated New York then and I really don’t think there are words to describe what she feels about New York now.

I went to the Mermaid Parade at Coney Island. It was fun but the buttloads of tourists, the millions of muscle cars and classic cars, the billions of digital camera shot putt clicks, have placed it on a new plane. Development is coming. I want them to tear down the block on Beach Blvd with all the furniture stores and put the shopping mall there. Keep most of the cool Coney.

My nephew is in Ghana and my brother sent some emails that have been coming back. Almost half of one letter was about his iPod and how he could recharge it.

I can feel a more substantial blog with many links and feigned outrage coming soon…

Red

just some redness

I would love to post something personal. But…… dammit. Anyway, I love the band Killing Joke. I had posted all of the lyrics to “Requiem” below but it was too dismal at the time. I’m posting all of “Red.”

they’re dropping bombs again
and they’re doing it in your name
all the rational commentaries
in the papers that i read
marmalade and buttered toast
and smell of sunday roast
kiss the arse of uncle sam
oh to be an englishman

when you hear the sound of warning
when the only colour is red
red sky in the morning
everywhere i’m seeing red

dawn brings a day of hell
hours that we pawn and sell
a single magpie in the tree
one for sorrow one for me
kick it off the cliff i said
now the line fucks up my head
too late to change this mode
break all my moral codes

when you hear the sound of warning
when the only colour is red
red sky in the morning
everywhere i’m seeing red

running from myself again
and all i feel is shame
it doesn’t matter where i go
everywhere still looks the same
this sense of emptiness
as we create this mess
self-destructive tendencies
are what you mean to me

when you hear the sound of warning
when the only colour is red
red sky in the morning
everywhere i’m seeing red

Paging Number 7

cow, oak hill
Where is Number 7?

number 7, oak hill
There is Number 7.

When you blog like a Sesame Street sketch, you must be feeling small. I watched My Kid Could Paint That last night and maybe I should just put it out there that I’m five and a half years old.

Seriously though, I’m not feeling so swift as I bought some old used technology and it’s not exactly working out. It’s like getting a dog from the pound and then the dog tears up your furniture.

Heat, Speed, Time, Voting

Lake George motel

Lake George motel, night
There has to be an invisible sun

That song reached No. 2 in the UK charts when The Police released Ghost in the Machine. While I’m intrigued by pastoral scenes infused with poetry about what’s going on elsewhere, it could never be a convincing vehicle of persuasion. The Police video was banned in Britain in its day for shoving it down our throats. Today we’ve got Madonna’s “4 Minutes” which is pretty open to interpretation although as one of the commenters put it, “Why not 5 minutes?” Why can’t anyone make a banned video anymore? Oh wait, there are some recent ones…

That’s it… I’m voting Republican for more banned videos.

Coney Island Tacos

wonderwheel sign closeup
Shoot the freak on the cell phone
Shoot the freak on the cell phone

Please avoid the clams and hot dogs and have tacos from Doña Zita. So yeah, the temperature went up 20 degrees in one day and my friend twisted my arm to go to Coney Island. I can’t believe they’re just going to wipe most of it away for Las Vegas/Disney glitz. I’m still not sure what role Coney Island Beer is playing in the drama.

Update: An interesting Times story here.

Upstate New York Road Trip Notes, etc

Boat under barn
Moosehead in barn attic
Only in barns

I got back on Tuesday night from upstate New York. We got as far as Lake George. My two cents are: It’s a beautiful place, however, it wasn’t all salt water taffy and shelling peanuts. No, no, no. My car Fyyffer, while not pouring out much white smoke anymore or leaking power steering fluid, is now leaking transmission fluid like a colander. It’s chugging about a third of a bottle every time I drive her. Calling on AAMCO® soon. (Just FYI, we spent about $85 on gas.) The other real bummer that happened was I fell down in the mud while it was pouring rain and we were setting up the DJ equipment in the reception barn. No chance of hitting on the catering staff after that.

The next day, we “took the cure” at the mineral baths at Saratoga Springs. S joked that the girl at the counter was the same girl from the 1930s when the place opened — some sort of mineral bath vampire. She didn’t even have to change her dress. Anyway, the water is a rust-brown color and effervescent and tastes like Alka-Seltzer®. Despite my snarks, it was very relaxing. I noticed later that my pee smelled a lot weirder than after asparagus so the osmosis really works somehow. Incidentally, “taking the cure,” used to be a euphemism for drying out or rehab but in quotes, I guess it means “something else.”

My friend is actually writing about the rest of the trip for the New York Post and I’ll be submitting photos (not that any will be published) so I’ll link to it when it’s time.

We visited Bill and family in Oak Hill where there will be a massive bluegrass festival in mid-July. I’m planning on going.

For my NYC friends, Friday night will be the last Soul Clinic at the Ding Dong Lounge. Be there!

Politics aside: Congrats to Obama. As Atrios notes, hardly anyone mentions the Iraq War when waxing stupid about why Clinton lost. No antiwar vote, no candidate Obama.

TomDispatch posts about a wacky new $80 billion Cyberwar program that would “allow the Air Force to fry any computer on Earth.” Crime doesn’t pay… unless you’re a politician or a military consultant.

Playing with Buildings and Armory Shows

Stairs, shadows -- SFMOMA
Stairs, shadows at SFMOMA

One of the must-do fun things to do in NYC this summer is visit the Battery Maritime Building where David Byrne has installed an organ that plays the different pieces of an old building. New York Times has a write up with video today.

This reminded me of an episode: My senior year at UCSB, I took part in an “Armory Show” at the SB Armory. I was taking a free-form art class with painter/pianist Dick Dunlap who is probably the sweetest and most soft-spoken professors I ever had. Anyway, he and some friends had invented/built some instruments out of found and new materials and he invited members of this class to play the instruments at a show at the Santa Barbara Armory which is similar to the building where Byrne has his organ in that it’s mostly a giant old room.

I only remember two instruments. The first was the Stringed Tongue Coffin which was a vertical tongue-shaped box with a taut cable strung from the top to a flat sheet of plywood that was attached to the bottom at an angle. By stepping on the plywood you could control the pitch somewhat and play the string by plucking it or with a giant bow made of plumbing hose and wire. I played this instrument as I seemed best at making it loud. (I’m a bass player after all.) The other instrument was the Piano Harp which was stringed guts of a piano bolted to a flat wooden crate. You could either play the strings with mallets or by strumming it like a harp. This was played by my housemate, Craig Dunham. Damn, I wish there was video or even photos of this event. The video of David Byrne’s piece almost brought me all the way back… I just need to remember those other instruments. (Senior moment.)

Unfortunately, I’m going to miss it but this Saturday night to Sunday morning is the Bang on a Can marathon at the World Financial Center. Highly recommended for anyone with even a remote interest in new music.