like a hunchback in heaven

names for bands viii

A baker's dozen or a coven? Or who cares?

* Idiot Juice
* Fakebook From Hell
* Darla Hoodlum
* All for Naught
* Inhuman Interest
* The Orphans' Picnic
* Raining Maggots
* Singing Hologram
* Jacob's Bladder
* Disensemble
* Tone Deaf MF
* Lurid Crime
* All My Dreams Are Stolen

self-portrait with cave

untitled

through my rainy windshield iii

keep digging, watson

When I was eight or nine years old, I read a bizarre short story in our third-grade reading book. I think that it was an old Mexican folk tale, but the memory is hazy, the details sketchy. Here's how the story goes:

There was a bad little boy whom no one could control. One day he threw a rock at another little boy and accidentally killed him. He then propped up the dead boy in the middle of a road where a horse and buggy soon came by and struck the dead boy. The townspeople blamed the driver for the boy's death and either jailed or executed him.

Somehow the bad boy ends up dying (don't remember how). St. Peter takes pity on him due to his age and lets him into Heaven. Big mistake, as the boy commences to torment all the angels. St. Peter then sends the boy down to Hell. The boy torments the demons there even more, nailing crucifixes inside their houses (even at my young age, I chuckled at the idea of little bungalows in Hell, as if the damned had merely been relocated next to a steel mill).

So the boy ends up before St. Peter again--Lucifer must have lodged a complaint with the eternal housing board. St. Peter says that the only solution is to turn the boy into a stone. Rude to the end, the boy insists that he be a stone with eyes. Thus, there is now a stone with eyes as part of the Pearly Gates.

I know what you're thinking: what sick, twisted individual would think that such a story is appropriate for third-graders? Remember, this was the seventies. There was no such thing as political correctness--in choir one year we sang the actual lyrics to the theme from M*A*S*H, Suicide Is Painless, and we also used to sing John Lennon's Imagine. Damn, I miss the seventies.

Anywho, I've been trying to track down this wicked folk tale for years with no luck. That's where you come in, dear readers. Has anyone else ever read or heard of this story? Any idea who wrote it or where I could find it?

Let's make this a contest. I have an extra copy of Blood Sugar by Nicole Blackman. Tell me what this story is, and I will send you the book along with my heartfelt thanks and maybe a surprise gift or two. Please help me solve this decades-old literary mystery!

self-portrait with earthmover

vote early and often

Choose the new Seven Wonders of the World.

CBGB's is no longer on the list.

embrace the random xii

Ornamism

Quite possibly the most beautiful computer art ever, like a sketchbook of alien flora come to life.

bells for her

don't forget your moonpants

humor me

Feeling tired on an autumn Sunday, I may have an excess of black bile. But I refuse to be listless, so here's a list of melancholic tunes that bronze my backbone:

Melancholia -- Pete Townshend
Way to Blue -- Nick Drake
Medicine Bottle -- Red House Painters
Smog Moon -- Matthew Sweet
Feel So Low -- Porcupine Tree
Wise Up -- Aimee Mann
Out of My Hands -- Michael Penn
Lost in My Hometown -- Harry
Spider and I -- Brian Eno
Ghosts -- Japan
Ride On -- AC/DC
Pantomime Horse -- Suede

embrace the random xi

Potatoland is a world of interactive sights and sounds from the digital imagination of Mark Napier. My favorite area is p-soup, where you can create your own abstract art and ambient soundscape.

parklife

Cleveland Metroparks

watcher of the skies

be drinkable

a tale of two harrys, part one

About thirteen years ago, I would drive my younger brother to Guzzetta Hall at the University of Akron for his weekly classical guitar lesson. While sitting in the lobby during his lesson, I would occasionally glance at this odd sculpture that looked like groups of brass mallets and abstract pussywillows. I figured that they made some sort of sound but never had the opportunity to find out due to the blue velvet ropes and silver stanchions barricading the sculpture from nosy admirers with sticky fingers.

Many years later I came across an article on Harry Bertoia in a magazine called The Wire. Bertoia was an American artist who created sonic sculptures: metal gongs, rods, bars, and various other arrays, all designed to produce melodic tones when struck. And this article struck something in me--I had seen one of his sculptures in person before! But where? Finally, it hit me: the lobby at U of A where I could only look but not touch all those years ago. My mission became clear--I was going to revisit that sculpture and clang the cobwebs off of it.

So I drove through a light rain from Cleveland to Akron to capture the sights and sounds of Bertoia, barricades be damned. Leaving my car under the watchful eye of an unemployed parking meter, I strode past a pack of soggy band geeks and entered Guzzetta Hall [digression: who designs their psuedo-military uniforms? Sgt. Pepper should find that guy and kick his lame ass up and down Penny Lane].

Approaching my target, I saw that the velvet ropes were now positioned behind the sculpture. Had the university changed its position on interactive art, or had the cleaning crew merely been lazy after mopping? Who cares! I began snapping photos, merrily banging the mallets and reeds together as the occasional piccolo player walked by with a puzzled expression. Chimes are great because there is never a wrong note--the same was true for Bertoia's creation, all of the tones and overtones merging together into one shimmering cloud.

Bertoia's sculpture should really be installed outdoors. That way, everyone on campus could hear the wind stir up tones such as these:

through my rainy windshield ii

light at the end? i hope so

guaranteed to raise a smile

a surreal blog

the science of whimsy

kinetic sculpture

michael myers mushroom mask

Happy first day of autumn!

untitled

parting with the red sea

embrace the random x

This photo has been Hockneyized.

cry me a rhythm

96 Tears--? and the Mysterians
To Cry You a Song--Jethro Tull
Lament--King Crimson
Wailing Wall--Todd Rundgren
Sob Story--Minor Threat
And of course...
The Weeping Song--Nick Cave

now reading

I'm currently reading Needle in the Groove by Jeff Noon, a cyberpunk novel that plays with language by updating Burroughs' cut-up technique. Noon uses the metaphor of the remix, splicing and dicing sentences, running words through imaginary filters and phase shifters, playing with meaning like a literary DJ. This approach is demonstrated further in a recent collection called Cobralingus.

So I'm off to do a little bit of reading before the sandman shoots me in the face. Night all.

did someone say phallic?

embrace the random ix

Here's one I came up with recently. Go to Bing Translator and type in a snippet of a favorite paragraph, poem, or play. Translate that snippet into another language. Then translate the resulting translation back into English.

Alas, Poor Yorick.
I knew him, Horatio.
A fellow of infinite jest.

Alas, Yorick pobre.
Le conocía, Horatio.
Un compañero de la broma infinita.

Wings, poor Yorick.
It knew him, Horatio.
A companion of the infinite joke.

Or:

How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

...transmogrified into Japanese and back becomes...

As for the woodchuck which when the woodchuck can install the wood with the chuck, is possible to install which rank wood with the chuck?

my tax dollars put to good use

Towpath Pedestrian Bridge, Valley View Ohio

autumn hymms

Autumn has arrived rather early in my corner of the world. No complaints here, as fall is my favorite season by far. Fall feels like possibility: change is everywhere, and new friends and places become oddly abundant.

There are certain albums that I associate with autumn. Some of them were released in autumns past. Others were played constantly on my car's tape deck as I commuted back and forth from Kent State. Here's a brief list of music that feels like fall:

Skylarking -- XTC
Another Green World -- Brian Eno
Walking in the Shadow of the Big Man -- Guadalcanal Diary
The Sensual World -- Kate Bush
Songs for Drella -- Lou Reed and John Cale
Just for a Day -- Slowdive
Broken Toy Shop -- E
Private Parts and Pieces -- Anthony Phillips
Big Science -- Laurie Anderson
Blonde Exodus -- Chris Connelly and the Bells
The Brunt -- Either/Orchestra
Taproot -- Michael Hedges

this just in...

If you write "prolly" instead of "probably", you are an asshole.

names for bands vii

Start a band this Labor Day weekend and ruin your neighbor's barbeque...or not.
* Beer Pressure
* Loud Sighs and Alibis
* Heavy Petting Zoo
* Canine Cologne
* Whore of Plenty
* Skullcrap
* Rat Bastard
* Full Body Erection
* Plague Never Dies

words, words, words

bridgerider

Inspired by Red House Painters, 4AD, and Lasse Hoile

princess monochrome awakes

something does not add up

Going by the above dates, Lester would have only been fifteen when World War II ended. Am I missing something? There has to be quite a fascinating story here.

untitled

a-hunting we did go

I went used CD hunting on Saturday with my good friend Harry, and then on a solo safari the next day. Here is what I captured:

Jethro Tull--A Little Light Music: Live acoustic performances of classic Tull tunes, and a nice arrangement of John Barleycorn Must Die.

KTU--Eight Armed Monkey: Bizarre prog/electronica featuring two members of King Crimson and a European who plays the accordion more like Ritchie Blackmore than Frankie Yankovich. Strange and haunting music.

Morphine--The Best of, 1992-1995: I already own every Morphine CD but needed this one for the three previously unreleased songs, all of which are very cool.

Frank Zappa--The Dub Room Special: I have had this on VHS for years but am so happy to have it on DVD now. Killer live performances from 1974 and 1981, plus twisted clay animation from Bruce Bickford. Thanks to Harry for spotting this one.

Nick Drake--Bryter Later and Pink Moon: Folky, jazzy, mellow, wistful, spooky, dreamy, thoughtful. A timeless voice singing timeless songs.

Depeche Mode--Music for the Masses and Violator: The remastered editions, each with a DVD containing a mini-documentary about making the album, plus a 5.1 mix and bonus B-sides. Who knew there was a video made for Pimpf? Great stuff.

Eric Tamm--Brian Eno: His Music and the Vertical Color of Sound: Well-researched and insightful book on Eno's music and methodology. This will be a good one to leaf through while floating down ambient streams.

And to recap, all of these purchases were used. USED, I say! Good savings, good times.

profanity is dead?

through my rainy windshield

blasphemy, blaspheyou ii

I awoke this morning with a throbbing headache. So I quickly said a prayer to St. Joseph, the patron saint of chewable aspirin. Within the hour I was as good as gold, as right as rain. Thanks, St. Joseph!

how was your tuesday?

Mine was fine, thanks.

neon heat disease ii

names for bands vi

Silly is as silly does...

* The Zombie Lima Beans
* Bitchcomber
* Sinners On Parade
* Tasty Souls
* Lorena and the Choppy Phallus Seas
* East Clintwood
* Friendly Fascists
* Rust and Relapsation
* Spiritual Deficit
* Crasshole

worm's eye view

Metroparks, Cleveland Ohio

dash away all, dash it all away

Honour thy mistake as a hidden intention
-- Brian Eno

dark secrets exposed

The cover of In the Court of the Crimson King is tattooed across my entire back, but it was done in lemon juice so you have to hold me up to a light bulb to see it.

wandering allowed

It's hard sometimes to know if I'm on the right path. But as long as I'm moving forward and enjoying the scenery, the path can't be very wrong.

i must see this movie

The Wayward Cloud

one year already?

Today marks the first anniversary of lowercase lifestyle. Thank you to everyone who has perused and posted, chimed in and chatted, or simply lurked and then left.

In the past year I posted 93 times--that averages to less than twice a week. Blech. I promise to be less a slacker and more a yakker in the months ahead.

Expect more of the same, more of the different, and an indeterminate amount of the random.

I have nothing to say, and I am saying it.--John Cage

Sitelurkers of the world, unite and take over, hand it over.

today's word is gaggle