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Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").
linksdecay & ruin got that wrong appropriate tech fun social media stuff Like asecular.com (nobody does!) Like my brownhouse: |
lame house warming Saturday, June 7 1997 The rat's ass: is taken with glee.
h, the travails of the Internet Industry. The one working toilet in the men's room overflowed after my using it, though it was surely blocked by someone else before I ever got there. It looked fine, but it didn't work fine. When I flushed it the water overflowed the bowl and continued to pour forth from a stuck valve, inundanting the men's room. I have never worked so hard at mopping. I lifted at least ten gallons of water with a pathetic little sponge-ended mop. The rest soaked through the floor and caused people from the Greenskeeper sportsbar downstairs to come up and complain. Finally there's a little retribution for all the grease vapours their fryers unleash into the server room. My mother was surfing through my musings today when she came to visit me at Comet. She was pissed about me mentioning some things about her redneck friends and she even asked me to remove them. In an effort to pacify her I said that I would, but I didn't of course and have no intention of doing so. No one seems to understand that the ultimate purpose of writing is to be read. The cool thing about these musings is that I know people are reading my work without any delay. I'm a hybrid between talk show host and reclusive novelist. Matthew Hart also came by during the Comet shift. He had a huge mouth-shape wound in the middle of his forehead, a sort of third eye created by Leah as punishment for alleged dalliances with the beautiful young Sarah Kleiner. You could see marks left by Leah's individual teeth.
snuck out from Comet and bought a very new Guided by Voices CD called Magnificent Earwhig. It's only a few weeks old. Back at Comet, I popped it in the CD player to give it a listen, wondering if it was worth the $13. And how about that? It has some excellent songs. Favourites for now include "I Am A Tree" and "Portable Men's Society." "I Am A Tree" is a showcase of what has changed in the band. The lineup has been augmented with competent high-fi retro cock-rockers from a Cleveland band called Cobre Verde. Precise little guitar licks are everywhere and perfectly ornament the low-fi skeletons of the songs. The rhythm occasionally picks up to nearly the frantic pace of speed metal and then drops again into half-assed four track monkey business. And now suddenly there are a few guitar solos. But they're brief and in acceptable agreement with the songs' overall concision. I notice that instead of being pervaded by the usual Guided by Voices tape hiss, many of the songs now drown in the noise of deliberately inserted drones. This is particularly true of "Portable Men's Society" where the effect is ominous like an impending invasion. Lyrically, the album is as good as any earlier. This might sound weird, but the use of the word "especially" in both "Portable Men's Society" and the immediately following "Little Lines" sets up a fascinating connection that inexplicably moves me. The overall feel of this album is still thankfully that of a band that doesn't really know how to write songs but is doing it anyway, nanny nanny boo boo.
ack at the 129 Observatory, the usual unemployed or semi-employed crowd was hanging out in the living room, eating macaroni and cheese. Meanwhile Matthew and Leah were up in their room with one of Leah's sisters and her friends. Matthew was in a bad mood. He was particularly upset by the fact that the unemployed folk were now eating his food without even the pretense of hesitation, as if by right. But he had a solution. A small refrigerator had been moved into his room and had already been stocked with beer. Later I threw in my chunk of Swiss cheese stolen from the magic refrigerator in Staunton. This new refrigerator has been reserved for use by those who actually purchase food in our household. Matthew's aggravation was contagious. I'd been making up little silly songs with lyrics like "come on people now / party with me / jump up now people / and party with me." Now I too was grumbling about the slackers in the living room. Aggravated as we were, we picked up the keg of Red Hook ESB for tonight's party. The guy at the JPA Fastmart was tediously slow in his movements. I hate people who buy cigarettes and lottery tickets. They need to go back to school and learn how to have fun.
nce the keg was tapped, troubles and complaints suddenly seemed less relevant. But the party never really materialized. Matthew had feared we'd need another keg of Beast Ice. Not to worry. We have no friends, apparently. Indeed, more people showed up Friday night when there was no keg. Possibly the incident in which Matthew was bitten by Leah scared off most of the Tandem crowd. I've become some sort of sworn enemy of the Dynashackians, so none of them came (besides, I hadn't told any of them). The only people not in our immediate scene who showed up in force were from the brick mansion in the 'hood: Ami Sage and Sam. Now I present a list of notable things that happened:
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