Fancy Strikes Again

I don't recognize that phone number but I know the ring. It's my imaginary friend, Fancy. I don't want to answer it but Fancy has a siren-like quality to her, as compelling and irresistible as an air raid warning.
I pick up the phone and wait for the bombs to fall.

"Hiya! Long time! How ya been? News bad enough for ya?"

"Hi Fancy. Long time, yeah. I've been OK. You never call when I'm happy, so I guess I must be miserable now."

"Are you saying that I make you miserable?", Fancy asks. She sounds hurt.

"Yes." Ouch.

"Fuck yeah! I still got the touch!" Her tone of pain becomes one of triumph. I've been played.

"Look, you didn't call me just to prove that you can drive me nuts," or did she?, I suddenly wondered to myself, "so there must be some point to this call."

"Yeah, it's about the Republicans."

"The Republicans?"

"Yep. Well, them and the Democrats. I don't know what to call them...Powers That Be? The Illuminati? Military-Industrial Vampires? Anyway, the Evil White Men (EWM) who run everything are making their move right now and it's going to work, mark my words."

"I hate agreeing with you but I think I do. Explain."

"See, right now, America's in trouble. It's not in trouble because of the falling markets, it's the fear of the falling market that's the trouble. Fear is driving bad decision making. The same people who caused the mess will get hired to fix it. I can tell you how that's going to pan out: breadlines, soup kitchens, dust bowls, angry grapes..."

"Damn, girl. You sure do cheer me up. Thing that really scares me is that the McPalin ticket is a set-up, that the-EWM- wants them to lose the election- Obama will inherit two unwinnable wars, a looted Treasury and the very real possibility of being the Head of a broken State and the Republicans are throwing 2008 to regroup for 2012. Obama may or may not be a good President, but he'd have to be a great one to get us out of where we are going and I no longer sense any greatness...by 2012, the public will be broken in wallet and spirit, desperate enough to vote for just about anyone- by 2012 Sarah Palin will be an experienced Governor and campaigner. She will run on a platform of faith and values, reprising Bush's 2000 themes, which will work again...we will elect the neo/ theo-con Christian dictatorship that we, as a people, deserve."

"Well, yeah. Even if she blows this debate, she'll have four years to work on the spin...voters won't get any smarter but she will. Rove will still be here, the PNAC hasn't gone away..."

"God Rest your soul, Uncle Sam."

There's a pause as Fancy and I share an imaginary moment of virtual silence for the grandest illusion of all, The American Dream.

"Oh, right", she picks it up," I wanted to give you shit about your dreams."

"My dreams? You mean the one where I'm dating a 21-year old Nina Hagen and we escape from East Germany by joining a musical circus and after we get married, she inexplicably changes her name to Greta Drake and starts smoking crack on stage...that dream was pretty cool until she started getting high and seeing ghosts...it was creepy."

"Um. As your subconcious, I gotta say that there are somethings that I don't really wanna hear, alright? Your Nina Hagen fetish is best kept to yourself."

I make a mental note to do a Nina Hagen post soon.

She continues, "I was thinking a little less dramatic and metaphorically than that. Basically, if you are to dream properly, you need to return your balls to their sockets."

"My what?"

"Your eyeballs. They need to go into the sockets in your face so that you can see where you are going. Right now you have them shoved so far up your ass that all you can see is tomorrow's shit."

"Wow. I thought you were going light on metaphor. That one was pretty icky. But , yeah, I see what you mean. I'll be OK. It'll be worth being happy just so I don't have to listen to you anymore."

"Hhaha", she laughs giddily, hurting my ear,"I am so fucking good at my job. Bye for now!"

Click.

Vinyl Is For Giving

My selection of vinyl may have some pops and scratches , but it will never give away my name or email and it will never turn me over to the FBI for sharing it with the world.
Vinyl is permissive.
Vinyl is forgiving.

This weekend's first show, Songs From The Big Hair (the 80's ):

The Damned- Street of Dreams
Derek Sunshine sez: "The Damned are like a real-life Spinal Tap. They changed image with whatever they thought was cool- punk, goth, metal...whatever". Well, I'll be...

XTC- This World Over
Great post-apocalyptic ballad about a father and son visiting a crater.

Snakefinger- Kill the Great Raven (Live)
"You can call me Phil. Or Snake. Either one." Snakefinger said that to me after his only Richmond show. Then we got stoned for hours. A month later he was dead.

George Clinton- Airbound
Let's put this Clinton in the White House. The Mothership Connection is funkadelicious and peaceafied.

Scorpions- Every Minute, Every Day
Back in high school, if you had told me that one day I would be playing this album on the radio,
I would have said: "What? I can't hear you! I'm in the backseat and you have the fucking Scorpions blasting my ears out!"

Motorhead-I'm the Doctor
"You'll feel better if you take these little pills/I'll give you sixty bottles/I believe in overkill..."

Danielle Dax- White Knuckle Ride
"Crazy little Charlie took a trip on an airplane/With his hands full of triggers as he flew into the sun..."

King Crimson- Heartbeat
One of my old bands once opened up for Adrian Belew's 'Bears'. Belew wouldn't deign to speak to us, but their bass player did. We gave him a tape. After the show, we were loading our van and the window of his tour bus opened. Our tape came whizzing out and landed on the sidewalk. It was depressing.

Talking Heads- Born Under Punches
But hey, I can't hold a grudge that long. Belew is all over this album.

The Kinks- Catch Me Now, I'm Falling
I saw this tour. I was in 9th grade. Awesome.

Pere Ubu- Ice Cream Truck
Disgruntled Mid-West anti-pop.

Golden Palominos- Omaha
Is that what's-his-face from REM? Is that the drummer from David Letterman's old band? I dunno.

Magazine- The Great Man's Secrets
Psst...c'mere. I have something I wanna tell you.

Adrian Belew- The Momur
Dude. See how magnanimous I am? Bask in my benevolent forgiveness, you fuckin' twanger.

Coffin Break- Diane
These guys used to play in Richmond quite often. They were always too loud, but I liked them anyway. Scary song.

Robyn Hitchcock- Slipping in the Midnight Fish
Yeah, I know I recently played this on my other show, but I really get a subversive, perverse thrill from it. Indulge me, eh? This is one of several songs from today's list that features sardines. I'll send a bag of money to whomever finds them all.

Lou Reed - Turn Off The Light
Yeah, I know I play a lot of Lou Reed. I can't help it. It's an addiction.

Crack The Sky- Big Money
I am the dogs of war, I am the cocaine whores
Who eat the life from you, I am your wildest dream...
Big Money will set you free

Asia- Ten seconds of hell for which Messrs. Howe, Wetton and Palmer will never be forgiven

I saw this band in concert and watched in amazement as a group of hippies stood up in the front row, gave the band the finger and stormed out. The show was that bad. It really was.
A few years later, I was telling my new hippie roommate about that concert- he told me that it was he who had flipped the bird. He was also dating my high school GF at the time. Small world. Too fucking small.



Grace Jones- Everybody Hold Still
To me, this is a Sly and Robbie album that Grace Jones sings on.

Mother Gong- The Upwardly Mobile Song
Robots and Yuppies. Spot the difference.


Tom Verlaine- Postcards From Waterloo
Tom was in Television, not on television.



Opal- Revelation
What a cool album. Remember the Dream Syndicate?

Wire- Ahead
Geez, I like Wire. I suppose I can forgive them for helping spawn 'house' music. Maybe.

Replacements- Black Diamond
It's a Kiss cover.

Elvis Costello- Watch Your Step
Too late. My foot is in it.

The English Beat- Sugar and Stress
Were you a rocker or a mod or both? I walked both worlds and still do. It's a tight wire.

The Stranglers- It's a Small World
Yes, it is.

My Bloody Valentine- Lose My Breath
This pre-emo CD has really fuzzy album art. It sounds blurry too. I thought I'd enjoy hearing it again, but it really annoyed me. Ah, well.

Tom Waits- 16 Shells from a 30.06
"I'm gonna whittle you into kindlin'"



That's all for Saturday.

Sunday morning I got up at 6am and did another show.
I've been doing a dawn show every Sunday for eight months. I must be nuts.


The New Breakfast Snob:

Funkadelic- Freak of the Week
Shit! Goddamn! Get off your ass and jam!
Fuck. Can't play that song...I'll play this one instead.

Tranquility Bass- 5 Miles High
I don't know much about these guys . It sounds like they smoke lots of indoor weed.



Larry Graham- The Jam
"My name is Larry, Larry Graham, but you can call me...b'rooombapboommmp"
Jumpin' jaysus! It's like looking at Tom Jones with a 'Fro and a P-Bass, ya know what I mean?


The Who - Postcards
Postcards are a running theme this weekend. I am having a lovely time and I do wish you were here.

Steeleye Span- The Lowlands of Holland
Postcards from Europe are a running theme this weekend.

Damien Dempsey- The Jar Song
"That's the way they came..."

The Flaming Groovies- She's Falling Apart
The Groovies get trippy and sad. On the original Kama Sutra vinyl.
Mmmm...Kama Sutra vinyl. That should be good for a few google hits.

Hot Tuna- The Highway Song
This, to me, is a feel-good song. It's raining, but who cares?

Fairport Convention- Genesis Hall
Look, I've already 'fessed up about this stuff...

10 CC- You've Got a Cold
10 CC were a really clever band. Is that an Arp sneezing?

Talking Heads- Memories Can't Wait
Hear all that stuff? That sound? That's Brian Eno. Fear of Music is my favorite Heads album

Fiona Joyce-The Juggler
Usually you can judge a CD by the cover, but this song is the exception. Terrible cover art, but a beautiful song about a dude who can't keep his balls aloft.

Grin- You're the Weight
"Wanna sink my boat in your ocean..." What is that all about?

Alan Parsons Project- I Wouldn't Wanna Be Like You
This guy is the real brain behind Pink Floyd's 'Dark Side...Ampex+Parsons= Midas.

Curtis Mayfield- No Thing (The Cocaine Song)
"I'm so glad that I'm set free"
When I was a kid, I didn't know what this song was about. Now I do. I really do.

Lou Reed- Babyface
Oh my. That's not a happy song, is it?

Robert Fripp-Chicago
I would like a deep-dish pizza stuffed with Frippertronics. That would be my perfect meal.

The Stranglers- Tank
This should be used in Army recruiting ads..."drive your very own tank"
It never goes out of style.

Cream - World of Pain
Have you ever dropped acid and stared at the cover of Disraeli Gears? Whew...it's an eyeful of mind-candy.

The Kinks- Last of the Steam-Powered Trains
I can relate to the defiant obsolescence expressed in this song. I played it from the original vinyl, which is in glorious Monophonic.

Quicksilver Messenger Service- Pride of Man
Pickin' up on yesterday's thread of nuclear holocaust.

Captain Beefheart- Rock and Roll's Evil Doll
Scorpio.

Can- Mother Upduff
Another European postcard- a travelogue really. Considerable time is spent in Italy.

Crack the Sky- Maybe I Can Fool Everybody Tonight
"The last place I want perspiration odor is under my arms."

Be Bop Deluxe- Ships in the Night
"Without love, I am a desert". Camels live in deserts.

Jethro Tull- Thick as a Brick
Your what is in the where? How did it get there? Yuck.

Clannad- Love and Affection
Is that too much to ask for? A timeless question.

Jefferson Airplane- Wooden Ships
The line about the purple berries always reminds me of the balloon girl from the original Willie Wonka movie. What exactly did the Oompa-Loompas do with her?

Well, that's what I did this weekend. It's pouring rain this morning so I'm staying inside and taking a nap. I talked to my grannie and she sounds pretty good, so I can rest a little easier.
It's been a good weekend.
I hope you all had a good one too.

Sick and Tagged

I am tagged, nauseous and ashamed.

The tag is from Thivia. I am to list five things that most people don't know about me.

The nausea , I believe, is from the stomach flu or perhaps arising from something that I ate.

The shame is a result of the realization that I haven't yet linked this:

Reconstruction: Why We Blog

Why We Blog is the work of Thivia and many others , and it examines...well, the reasons people blog. Duh.

A number of bloggers were consulted as well. This was my humble offering.

-----------------------------------------
So. The tagging thing.
Five things most people don't know about me:

#1: I am six minutes older than my twin brother.


#2: I once sold a comic story for real money. It was about vampires, a subject that bores me to undeath. It was a long story...here are some pictures.
The title, Destiny Angel, didn't scan very well- in several meanings of the word ...it was a female vampire character created by the publisher, who really wanted to publish a book about female vampires.
His character's background?
She is a female vampire- surely you can come up with one hundred pages based on that, said the publisher.
For a grand? No problem.
The cover title is in red foil print, a common comics-industry 'collector's item' ploy. What it really meant is that a crappy comic that should have cost a buck or two actually cost $4.50 !
In 1996 dollars!

It was awful. Even the fine print sucked. My publisher couldn't spell and was too proud to let me proof-read his copy. "Concent", anyone? Sheesh...



#3: If I am lost, someone will inevitably ask me for directions.



#4: I don't perform routine maintenance on my equipment as often as I should.


#5 : My next-door neighbor is plotting to kill me. She is going to drop a flowerpot on my head as I walk underneath her porch on the way to my car.

While Rome Burns

This is a start, but it's a little slow and it's a little late. And it contains a lot of unnecessary political timidity:

The White House is likely to face its most significant confrontation with Congress so far over its handling of the Iraq war after House Democrats agreed on Thursday on plans to debate a simple resolution next week that would oppose the escalation of the war but express support for funding the troops already on the ground

No rational person would interpret opposition of troop escalation as a lack of support for our troops, be they on the ground in Iraq, at home or elsewhere.
The argument that opposing the escalation is somehow 'unpatriotic' is absurd. It's a last desperate to defend the indefensible.
Listen to this bullshit:

However, John Boehner, House minority leader, attacked the coming debate as "nothing more than political theatre that means nothing. And I believe that it demoralises our troops in the field."

I would point out that sending our already tired soldiers and Marines back to Baghdad for a third or fourth deployment demoralises our troops.

Perhaps living in a state of kill or be killed for weeks and months on end in a strange and hostile land , bearing daily witness to carnage and brutality - while trying to do your duty for a President who gleefully proclaims: "you ain't coming home while I'm the Decider"- perhaps that is demoralising.

A case could be made that long, repeated deployments overseas can have terrible consequences at home.
.

" Since the 2003 invasion, divorce rates in the military have skyrocketed, with a 28 percent increase among enlisted, and almost 80 percent among officers, according to MSNBC. Experts estimate that there will be at least 100,000 war-related divorces by the time the war ends. The veterans and military families here today say that, for them, "It never will."

Divorce is demoralising.
PTSD is disturbing.
Orphans are a bummer.
And lets not talk about bombs or the nerve impulses of severed limbs.

-----
And lets not mention global warming.
There's still quite a few Republicans who claim that there's no man-made climate change.
They don't seem to understand that this is no joke.
To this delusional Congressman, our global crisis is little more than a fart joke:

Rep. Dana Rohrabacher, R-Calif., an outspoken skeptic of global warming, questioned whether the temperature changes weren't cyclical.

"We don't know what the other cycles were caused by in the past," he said. "It could be dinosaur flatulence. Who knows?"

Haha. Very funny. Maybe it's cow farts. Maybe it's an old lady in West, Texas. Maybe building more coal plants will solve all our pollution problems:

The official treaty to curb greenhouse-gas emissions hasn't gone into effect yet and already three countries are planning to build nearly 850 new coal-fired plants, which would pump up to five times as much carbon dioxide into the atmosphere as the Kyoto Protocol aims to reduce.

And if there is such a thing as global warming- which there isn't,of course- it's Nancy Pelosi's fault, according to an increasingly desperate sounding GOP who would rather talk about anything but the Iraq:

The jet that Pelosi has produces 10,000 pounds of carbon dioxide an hour, far more than the previous speaker used," said Rep. Patrick McHenry, R-N.C. Pelosi's predecessor was Rep. Dennis Hastert, R-Ill.

Flying in a large Air Force plane, Rep. Mark Kirk, R-Ill., said, "appears to remove any spending controls from our operations and dramatically increases our impact on the environment especially climate change."

This attack was so absurd it caused the White House to issue a true statement to the media, setting a historical precedent for the Bush administration.

... presidential spokesman Tony Snow, "This is a silly story and I think it's been unfair to the speaker."

------

You know, if we could do this :

...(and include Cheney as an accomplice) then Nancy Pelosi would be President.

Then she could use Air Force One.

Frustration

NOTE: This is not addressed to ALL dudes. Sadly, you DON'T know who you are. You should.

Dudes. Listen up.

Your girlfriends and wives are not happy. Do you not notice this?
You aren't giving them the attention they deserve.
Are you taking your woman for granted? That is a mistake.

I'm single and have been involuntarily celibate for about ten gazillion years and it drives me crazy when your women complain to me about your lack of enthusiasm and imagination. They tell me how dull you are and I start having detailed fantasies- sometimes I share these ideas with your unsatisfied lover and this is what your wife/GF tells me:
" My man wouldn't do that."

Well, I would.

And I wouldn't stop until your wife begged me - and even then I'd draw it out for a loooong time.... The only thing stopping me is a vow I made to myself to never sleep with a married/attached woman again.
Ever.
For five drunken years, the only women I slept with were sexually frustrated married/engaged women that I met at work. All that repressed sexual energy had to go somewhere- and sometimes it came to me.

For some reason, they felt comfortable telling me how much you suck in bed.

Doesn't that feel nice? Your wife told the file clerk about your "problem"...then she took him to a Motel 6 and used your money to pay for the room. I was siting right next to her while she lied to you on her cellphone. That rattling sound was me fixing her a drink.
Nice, huh?

Nowadays, the file clerk doesn't drink and he doesn't have affairs.

The file clerk is adamant about the drinking, but if he keeps hearing these complaints, he might have to change his mind about that adultery vow.

Better get busy unless you want your wife moaning the file clerk's name in her sleep.

Last Night's Missiles

The first thing I notice is the feel of a rubber band around my right ankle. It's on there to keep the baggy leg of my Army surplus trousers from getting caught in the chain of my Huffy 10-speed bike...
My vision clears just in time to swerve madly, barely missing a car that's parked in the middle of the road - it's facing the wrong direction, am I in England?



I stop, dismount, lean the bike against a tree that wasn't there ten seconds ago and walk over to the car.
It's a familiar model, something I've seen a million of but I can't quite place the name now.
It's got Maryland tags.
So I'm in Maryland, a glance inside the empty vehicle shows a Baltimore Sun newspaper folded neatly on the front seat. The large banner headline catches my eye and I reach in to grab the paper- holy shit!
The headline ,dated Sept 15, 1984, reads:

Missiles Launch at Midnight



Suddenly I remember that I'm in a real hurry to get home. Goddamnit, I sure wish they'd left the keys in the ignition.
I toss the paper back into the car, hop on the bike and zoom downhill. I've had this dream before and I know that my dreamyard has a really good view of the Apocalypse .
I don't want to miss the show.

Back up, hold on, wait a sec...OK, I'm back at the car and this time the keys are in it - as I said, I've had this dream before and I've learned to control parts of it.
Like the keys- I just wished for them and there they were...but I know somehow that driving isn't going to be so easy.
It's not- there's a mob of pedestrians and parked cars nearly blocking both lanes, HONK HONK HONK , no one budges or even looks, everyone is staring up at the sky between the trees, waiting for the missiles.

" Run them over"

What?

My Granpa is sitting next to me- how strange to see him in the passengers seat, Granpa was always driving. Granpa was not the sort of man to advise his grandson to run over pedestrians, this is a new twist. I'm losing my tenuous control over the dream.

"RUN THEM OVER!"

Granpa is mad. He was almost never mad. This scares me.

"But..." , I can't speak. I can't run over these people- look, some are just kids, some are old...
How can I do that?

"DO IT!"

I try to press the accelerator but my foot won't move.

"GO!"

The car rockets into motion and plows into the crowd, touching no one. The people are like water, displaced for a moment as we speed through, gradually filling in the space left in our wake, none the worse for our passage.

Hot Damn! Granpa will be so proud- he never did get to see me drive. I turn , beaming , to look at him but he's gone and I'm back on the bike, riding it up the dirt road to the little white farmhouse where I live during Missile Dreams.

There's a small crowd in the backyard, mostly gathered around the old brick BBQ grill- out of habit I guess, since there's no coals, no food, just some old leaves in the bottom that would make decent tinder if needed...I wonder where they came from- there are no trees nearby. That's why the view is so good from here.

Sara starts talking to me. I know a few Saras, but this woman is a stranger, I just know that she is a Sara, no H. It looks like she's been crying and I want to hold her but it's not my place to do that...so I try to listen to her instead.
Sara No H is worried about her boyfriend- he isn't answering his cell phone and it's almost midnight, where is he? As she tells me this, the people surrounding us start vanishing, but there's nothing to be done about that right now.

"Look", I explain, "it's 1985 and he doesn't have a cell phone-no one does- what are you talking into anyway?"

She pushes her long brunette hair back from where her ear used to be- Sara No H holds out her bloody hand, palm up.

There's something red and lumpy cupped in it.

"My knife", she says.

The sky goes bright yellow. It's missile time.

Above us there are twelve parallel columns of smoke rising into the sky, a tiny glowing dot at the head of each one.
They are already miles above us by the time the sound reaches us...the sound. Sound reaches our ears...all three of them. Oh God.

Sara! What have you done to yourself?

But she's not Sara anymore and it's OK for me to hold her now.

I whisper "I love you" into her ear and she is whole, there's no blood except what's in our hearts.

Together we watch the sky burn.

Smell My Browser

Here's my latest million-dollar scheme: Digital 'Interscents' - a programmable aerosol device attached to one's PC that emits specific fragrances upon receiving commands, i.e., you could send a squishy-lovey email that would smell like roses when opened...how charming!

Of course, like most of my good ideas it'd probably cause more trouble than it's worth.

Imagine comments and emails imploring you to "come over and take a whiff of this post" -and when you finally give in and check out the post, you are greeted with something like this:

CHECK OUT MY NEW WEBCAM!!

*click*... suddenly your cubicle smells like the interior of someone else's ass.

You know it would happen.

I think the Japanese are working on this technology right now, but I might be wrong. I'm too lazy to fact-check, but it sounds like something the Japanese would develop.

What's that smell?

Me One , Pat Robertson Zero -or- I told You So # 896

Just Monday I predicted this and here it is.

I almost never say : " I hate to say this, but I told ya so", mostly because I rarely hate to say that. Saying that would take the fun out of gloating.

But sometimes gloating sucks, sometimes there's no room for good natured ribbing -saying "I told ya to shoot for the corner pocket, not the side" is unlikely to cause much heartache to anyone, but saying : "I told you that BushCo would ruin America. I told you that before you elected him ", well, that breaks my heart.

I'm wrong a lot- I was hoping that I'd be wrong about the Iraq war- does anyone remember when saying "this war is wrong" was enough to get your ass fired, shunned and/or beaten?
It was.

In Novemeber, 2001- before the war, but during the post 9/11 chaos- one of my staff asked me why I didn't have any Flag Decals on my car.

I don't need one, I said, I already know I love my country.

Wasn't I afraid that someone would slash my tires?

Slash my tires because I don't have a Flag Decal? I need to be afraid of that?

Yes, she said, people are doing it. Spray painting cars too...they sprayed my neighbor's car. Then she pointed out the banner-sized flag hanging from the rear of her SUV .

Well, I said, then the terrorists have already won because they are us.

I wish I was wrong about that too.