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10/5/2006
EAR PLUGS
We got envie’s new CD in the mail a week or three ago. It’s got a heavy Kate
Bush flavor, as I’ve mentioned when reviewing their live show. It’s got some
interesting moments, mixing electric guitar with harp (yes, harp) and lilting
female lead vocals, very arty but honestly it wasn’t for me. If you’
re into that kind of thing, check them out his Saturday at The Earl for their CD
release show, along with The Sweetloves and Gringo Star (formerly A Fir-Ju
Well.)
In other performance news, we got this from Calu off myspace:
Well Dollsquad is kinda splitting its truope into 2! We all love each other and
everything is cool if you were wondering...
Barb and Sadies new project is called Blast Off Burlesque..so give them your
love and support!
And my (Calu) new project will be billed as The Dollsquad presents..Calu`s Lil`
Go Go Peep Show! It will be a smaller version of all the dolls you know !
So come Check out Us out @ Smiths Olde Bar Oct 26th with the Greatest band in
the world...SUPERGROUP!!!
BLASPHEMY
Degenerate Press has been quiet lately. The stint at the Loafing had me tired of
reporting, honestly. That’s beginning to wear off.
As always, fall snuck up on me before I could get one last camping trip in.
The season always gets me down. However the more depressed I am the more I
write. My fall fugue can be combated with travel, obscene amounts of sex, and/or
antidepressants. Two out of three ain’t bad, thus the lack of communication of
late.
But even when I’m in the mood to write, there hasn’t been much going on.
Netflix, Adult Swim, and slowly getting the house ready to host a party have
been ample entertainment. I didn’t even make it to the Little Steven’s garage
rock show on Wednesday. Mid-week shows are all but impossible to get to for an
old working stiff like myself.
Thursday I had dinner at The Earl with an old acquaintance who’s slowly becoming
more of a friend. She had tantalizing tales of lesbian lust but even that
couldn’t keep me out late.
Friday I had a late dinner at The Five Spot, then called it an early night
before the live music could even get started.
Saturday it was ribs at Daddy D’z followed by a few drinks at Estoria. The wait
staff there is cute and reasonably attentive, but I never feel like it’
s *my* place. It was my brother’s haunt before he moved to California so there
are some familiar faces, but the few I know by name happen to be a few I don’t
necessarily want to talk to. Late on Saturday nights hipster DJ’s crank out a
mix of rock and pop music that is simultaneously impressive and depressing.
Shit, *I* could’a been that guy behind the turntables, had I found used record
stores in my youth, or been a few years younger when DJ culture came to the
fore. Now I’m an aging – or *aged* - hipster who’s friends are all home with
babies. I meet them for dinner or events from time to time but the baby
conversations inevitably drive me away. I understand the attraction to having
kids, then I realize once it’s happened what the hell else do you have to talk
about? They are, by design, all-consuming.
And if there’s anything consistent in my life it’s a steadfast refusal to get
all-consumed by anything. Family, career, religion, drugs, alcohol, art, music –
none of it has a strong enough appeal to give any of the rest of it up in trade.
It’s been year after year of distraction but nothing central to get distracted
*from.* It’s a pleasant life, but a life without great meaning, challenge or
accomplishment. And I seem to have a complete lack of motivation to make it
otherwise.
Kids? Meh. Despite 40 looming on the horizon, I haven’t gotten the bug. My last
partner was dead set against them and I was ok with that.
Career? I do what I can to get by, enough to keep me in a comfortable position
but not enough to climb the corporate ladder toward greater responsibility and
the rewards that would come from it.
Religion? Please. I’ve been an atheist since I was 12, if not before that.
Make the world a better place? Feh. We’re at 6.5 billion people and counting. In
the entire course of human history there has always been poverty, hunger,
violence, crime, and competition for natural resources and it’s only going to
get worse. I fantasize about some Mad-Max-style post-apocalyptic future but I
know there’s not even hope for that. Instead, it’s going to be a slow slide into
hell and I don’t think there’s a damn thing I or anyone else can do about it.
Make a great contribution of some sort? I am smarter than most, so I can at
least recognize genius when I see it, and I don’t see it in myself. On a good
day, I am merely clever.
I think some of this malaise is the product of mass media/communications.
When it was only word of mouth or even the written word you didn’t have to do
much to be an exception. A good man would have his praises sung, a strong man
became the stuff of legend, a charismatic man – the son of God himself.
But with hundreds of channels broadcasting tales of humanity 24/7, rising above
the mundane requires Herculean motivation or the cosmic alignment of fates.
It’s enough to make one want to go on a shooting spree.
Hey! Now I *AM* depressed – I’m writing again!
Hoo-fuckin-ray.
And this is how I feel when life is going *well*? Maybe I should take the
antidepressants after all.
In more cheerful topics, degenerate BH put together this site:
www.ihavefeltballs.com
believe it or not, it’s work-safe.
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