It's been how long?

There's a lot going on in the world of politics and news and this and that. I would comment on that but it's just too time consuming to put together a semi-intelligent rant about the state of the world and there are plenty of other places to get your opinions.

Instead, I'd rather announce that I've quit smoking. I've given it up for a little over three weeks now. Granted, I did have a few cigarettes on Saturdays, hanging out with the band, but they were very unenjoyable. It's absolutely awesome to get rid of that damn addiction. I have dreams again. I don't reek (well, of smoke) all the time. I don't wake up congested every morning. I just fell damn better.

The trick? This time it was the reminder of facts about the drugs in cigarettes that kept me from having one during the week at work, where they are everywhere and pretty much free for the taking. I also kept reminding myself that there will be the horrible sludgy feeling along with the doped up stupor of having a smoke. I give myself breaks without the smoking now.

So stay away from cocaine, stay away from heroine, stay away from meth. But don't make that tobacco illegal. Even though it's probably the most addictive of the bunch.

Not feelin' it today.

I really could care less about just about everything today.

I've been forcing myself to listen to the rough mixes of the recording I've been working on with Where the i Divides and it's terribly frustrating.

Why, you ask? I don't want to talk about it. Lets just say that my expectations for this project and the expectations of my collaborators aren't on the same page. I'm tired of hearing the mistakes, the constant rhythm section jangling like it's all important, all the time. I'm tired of the warble in Joe's "I'm like the guy from R.E.M, right?" voice. I just want to re-track a few guitar parts, a few terrible vocal parts and then mix the songs alone with the engineer and let the rest of the band decide after I've made my "Producer's Cut."

But that's not here or there.

Gas Prices though... That's apparently all the rage these days.

(I love the picture. I want to shop at the Open Pant'ry!)

It's really, really, really slow

Work is slow as molasses. It's been like that all week.

So I've had plenty of time to sit and look at things online.

I was over at Kevin Wolf's doing some investigating and he had a mention of the Wadsworth Atheneum which reminded me of this totally awesomely horrible thing I learned last weekend.



Now, this ain't half bad. It all depends on how you use the words. But rap is just downright boring these days.

...But this is bad. I wish I was in high school again so I could work on projects like this and get credit for them. (rolls eyes, rolls over, dies.)




But at least it's not The (Mad) Real Wedding Crashers.

The land...

Where do all of these unexpected Ministry fans come from?

I keep bringing up Ministry as of late and people seem to love them.
I own two of their albums. One is decidedly not like the other. The Land of Rape and Honey is laden with drum loops and keyboards and samples. Filth Pig is practically the opposite with mostly live drums and mostly guitars. It's two different approaches to making the same kind of music. It's exactly the kind of thing that musicians do when they are tired of cranking out the same song over and over again, unlike the corporate companies that dominate what gets played on most commercial radio. (some of the comments on this link are great. Especially the one about NASCAR.) Again, what happens in the game of Monopoly when someone succeeds in creating a monopoly?


An (perhaps not so) interesting aside in my music appreciation travels:

Ministry covered Lay, Lady, Lay on Filth Pig. When I heard Bob Dylan singing that song, it was well after I had the Ministry version etched into my memory and that was, well, a shock.

Much like when my friend learned that Hunter isn't a Jared Leto song. She had no idea it was Bjork. Which rhymes with pork.

I've also heard rumors that Ministry isolates everything to the extreme when they record. Drum tracks are done one at a time. If that's true, that's mighty purist of them. I'd rather take the Albini route and just go for the ambient sound of "strategically place mics." But then again, I think I like a more "organic" feel to my music.

The Veil Dropped a Long Time Ago

I just sent this off to a Mister John Edwards for President, 2008, on his myspace page.

Dear Mr. Edwards 2008 Campaign Volunteer,

Even though I think our country would be better run by a candidate from the Democratic side of this bi-partisan system we have clumsily manipulating this great nation of ours, I can't help but wonder what sort of qualifications a politician has in making any of these decisions.

If Mr. John Edwards were to sit down and have a one-to-one chat with me, explaining what he expects to do if elected, I would consider giving him my support, but that's not going to happen. I'm not a corporation like Globo-Chem or Conglomo-O looking for ways to raise the bottom line, by padding pocketbooks in the disgraceful popularity contest that used to be a serious affair.

In 2008, I think I'll vote for the candidate I disagree with the least.

Sincerely,
Z


Ahh... Grandma Betsy's Biscuit Powder.

Fueled by stimulation

The last post I put up was a hint as to what the future could hold.

I didn't take the time to work on the new idea over the weekend. I went to see films at the Wisconsin Film Festival.

Chalk
Linda, Linda, Linda
Climates

Good movies. Good times. I'm not going to comment on them, other than this. Chalk is akin to NBC's the Office. Climates is a really slow moving story but still advisable to see. Linda, Linda, Linda wasn't entirely what I expected but still a fun movie.

Back to realtime. I sat down today to start on this new project, and I'm quickly learning that I have a highly unrestrainable writing style. I would talk about it more but I'm trying to keep it under wraps until it's close to being completed. (Who knows how long that will take.)

A moment of Silent Staring

I spent a good 15 minutes last night just sitting on my bed, staring at nothing. Listening to nothing. Thinking. About what? I don't remember.

I've had a lot to do as of late. Work is busy as usual. I'm pretty much off the photocopy job, which is a good thing. I make more money at the other job now and I end up having a few more hours in the day to work on writing. Writing what? I don't know... nonsense poetry, esoterics, banal tripe.

Today was a good day for writing.

I came up with a few lines. "There are stars in these skies. There are 13 points to an object." which I quickly followed up with "Bushido Blade blister parade." I decided that the first two had something and then then third one was just crap. I boxed that one off, quarntined it if you will, and then kept working with those ideas. There's something in those two lines that needs to be expanded on. I'm going to give myself some sort of outline and work from there.

And as much as I would like to say that this blog is dead, I just posted another post... so figure that one out.

(Zombie Post)

How is it possible?

When a moment grabs you, it's really hard to say no.

I wrote something about it today without really knowing what specifically I was actually trying to say. It's one of those things where everything has to be right and yet when I try to make it right, it just looks like a bunch of cut up magazine articles, glue, streamers and glitter.

Here it is...

Oh my dear sweet savior's nose gay on the rolling hills. Folding chairs. Blankets on the lawn. Dispirited by a screwdriver and a lighter.
Bring Hope down the line.
That you've known this before. Divine Splinter-vention at the turtle convention... and the snails feel left behind yet content with the glowing eyesockets picture lockets dangling off the cable pipeline snoring to keep you awake while you sleep, drool, frolic in the gray.
Bishop of Eggs. Evaporate. Quick tabulate.
ROBOTS!

... that it.

Or I could sum it up in a pilfered line. "Look at me and tell me if you've known me before."

Haleas flasdj fk-w0rnv

Yeah... That's about all I got.

I"m taking a fucking break from Access '07. Brain is fried from trying to get a new database up and running for the office. It'll be great on the resume. It'll be great once I get it done. I dunno.

I put in my notice at the photocopy job. I had a long day on Monday and decided that I'm very, very, very unhappy with where I am and what I'm doing and need to kick my ass out of this stupid rut. I can't justify making the kind of money I make when I am capable of earning so much more for doing more challenging work. And stuff and things.

Where the i Divides has a show on Saturday in Kenosha, WI. What a trip!!! I haven't thought much about it. I finished off another new song that I've been kicking around since last fall. Then a new idea. Sure. The first album ain't done with the mixing process and we're already working on the next album. It's just a reference for the new material. It may be a while before that stuff get anywhere near a studio. The Quisling material, on the other hand, may be done over the next few months...

What's Quisling? It's the Nirvana-esque band I started last week after Joe gave me the impression he may be quitting the band. I put together two songs so far, musically. I still need to record them and kick out some lyrics for singin'. Eventuall we'll play shows around town and sell garage demos on burned CDs made with my computer and a few microphones. Rock and roll through and through. People will say, "Why does this sound like you recorded it in a barn?" and I'll relpy, "because it was."

What I'm most iimpressed with about all of this is that if someone had told me two years ago that I would be able to write a song in a matter of hours, and then bust out another one in the same night, I would have not believed them. Yet, now here I sit on a pile of songs and music that I've put together and there's always ideas for more. I think it was an interview with the New Pornographers that I read about that time that I realized that I wanted to 'crank' out more songs. Good songs. Bad songs. Filler. It didn't matter. The good would move on and the bad would fall away but they'd be done.

And special b-day wishes to my sis.

Just a thought

Why is it that people who use "religion" to their advantage to get elected lack the conscience or understanding that their conduct should reflect those values?

What the hell ever happened to honesty, compassion, and concern for your fellow man or woman regardless of who they are or their profession. (See the story of Jesus and the Woman at the Well.)

I'd much rather have those things than any religious affiliation or religious endorsement for someone I would potentially vote for.

Personal news update

Last post was me on a misery Monday. I've been ground down by the constant recording sessions debacles that seem to be cropping up. (Crapping up?) Over the weekend, I finished guitar tracks and some organ tracks. Travis has this super awesome vintage GE organ that has a fan in it. You plug it in and press a key and it opens a valve that lets air through to create a sound. It's pitched different than a true 440 so we're going to have to shift the entire track but thank god for protools (sometimes).

Saturday went well. Stuff was accomplished. I'm still not happy with the solo I recorded for the song "Jerkwater". It's not quite right. It's there, it's okay, but it lacks the power and flow that I need it to have. I listened to some Tool yesterday and am thinking I'm going to use that as a point of reference for that song. Acoustic guitar tracks on the song "Stepped Oustide" need to be re-recorded since we used Travis' Kingston and it's next to impossible to tune and my acoustic tuner needs new batteries. I'll have to drag my Oscar Schmidt acoustic in. The strings are probably rusted to hell and will break when I start playing but that'll just add to the overall effect I was going for with the Kingston. And then we got to Sunday...

Joe was late due to the time shift. We hammered away at one song for three point five hours with retakes and punches but it just wasn't coming out quite right. Then we switched songs and that wasn't working to well either. Compounded with the fact that Joe has changed most of the lyrics that he's had for the last year, it wasn't a good session. By the end, he was sprawled out on the floor, destitute and forlorn. So we listened to all of the songs, what we have so far and that just shot his confidence till the clip was empty. Stupid singers and their esteem issues. He said that "Plastic Head" needs to be retracked. All of it. The song was too slow. That'll take a day to do the instruments. He said that the solo on "One Day" needs to be the one I recorded for the demo. He wants to redo all vocal tracks. (roll eyes.)

So I had this haunting sensation on Monday that everything I was doing was wrong. Working on music is just a pipe dream that's going to go nowhere and I'm just living in Madison right now pretty much for the music. If it weren't for the band, I'd probably be living in Montana right now. I almost moved on Tuesday. Packed up and left. Figure out the situation after the deed was done.

Tuesday came and went with me pushing through the day. I filled out my application for paralegal school and sent it in. I've had it for almost a month now and it took me five minutes to fill out. No commitment, just the idea of doing something that I'm not apeshit hogwash crazy about, and going to school for it. But it travels, like turning wrenches or pouring drinks. You can do it anywhere.

So that's it. I'm in a funk... the rickety funk of springtime doldrums. Pushing myself past the easy road to depression and keeping focused on getting myself out from under the opression of the B.O.A Constrictor so I can finally tell them to fuck off for good.

Gotta get some work done now. These services don't enter themselves into the computer.

Self-indlugent crap post

"Don't fret precious I'm here, step away from the window and go back to sleep.

Lay your head down child. I won't let the boogeymen come. Count their bodies like sheep to the rhythm of the war drums. Pay no mind to the rabble. Pay no mind to the rabble.

Head down, go to sleep to the rhythm of the war drums.

Pay no mind what other voices say. They don't care about you, like I do, (like I do.) Safe from pain, and truth, and choice, and other poison devils, see, they don't give a fuck about you, like I do.

Just stay with me, safe and ignorant. Go back to sleep. Go back to sleep. I'll be the one to protect you from your enemies and all your demons. I'll be the one to protect you from a will to survive and a voice of reason. I'll be the one to protect you from your enemies and your choices son. They're one and the same.

I must isolate you. Isolate and save you from yourself.

Stay with me, safe and ignorant. Just stay with me. I'll hold you and protect you from the other ones.

The evil ones, don't love you son. Go back to sleep."


* * * * *

I miss the tall green grass turned brown full of grasshoppers as mule deer stare silently stoic on the rise above the gravel road for running in the middle of nowhere soon too soon turned into "Suburbia" with fake trees and sod lawns meticulously watered each night like robbers-stealing-gold-from-the-only-stagecoach-through-these-parts out of the river that pulls all the silt from the fires of last summer down to the ocean if not for the hydroelectric dams.

I miss sitting in one spot for hours and moving the world beneath wheels while the dreams of sessions in isolation booths spill their woven magic into my state of staring and moon craters and sand blasting and cigarette smoke for miles.

I miss lack of hope.

I miss that the most.

Meow Meow

This is almost as good as Chamberlain auditioning for Danny J's Metal Project. Hailing a taxi from Trav's, rollin' out to Mt. Horeb.

But it comes nowhere close to Travis putting on his own production of A Streetcar Named Desire with his cats. That would be worth a website. Not to mention totally worth seeing, even with the nip floatin' around.

(rather than mention anything about the Libby verdict. It's just unfortunate that nothing is going to be done about the rest of them. Hit the scapegoat with a few years in minimum security and then let him out and no one will remember it. It'll be forgotten by '08 anyway unless Cheney decides he has a chance at being president.)

Recording up-to-date

The band has been left out of the discussion mix for a while. We've been recording through the month of February, pretty much every Saturday and Sunday.

Yesterday was the first day of vocal tracking. Joe was spot on for some songs and sounded good all around. He had been practicing. I noticed one song that was "finished" has either a guitar or a bass track that out of tune. I'm hoping that it's not the bass. If it is, I have to re-rent the amp we used, and I don't really want to do that.

There are guitar parts that need to be retooled. Several solos that still need to be worked out. It's been a long process of weekends spent listening actively. And that's the part that really wears you out.

We (the band) are hoping to have all twelve tracks "in the can" in three to four more sessions. That's including acoustic guitar parts, the remaining electric guitar parts, keyboard parts, vocals on half the songs (roughly) and several re-records of bass tracks. I'm tired of being optimistic about this process ever being over. It'll end, eventually.

And then you can buy it. But why would you want to?

More from the land of milk an' honey

This seems to keep showing up.

Enough to make me wonder.

Then, there's this article from yesterday. It was about stuff and I can't find it now. Whatever.

So I did find this one.

I'm just a little bummed out by this information. When I was in high school, tracking students to college was the thing to do. Everyone was going to college to get a degree and a good paying job. No one ever took the time to say, "Hey, these assholes from the credit card companies want to turn you into their slave. They'll do their darndest, more so than the armed forces recruiters. You would be better served by staying away from them at all costs." Instead, they educated us to not use drugs.

So now, I abuse drugs to escape from the predicament. I still believe I can do anything. But I don't think that I'm good enough for anyone to really notice. Just an average Thimble-thumper pushing the shopping cart down the street picking up cans to recycle for change.

B.O.A. Constrictor

I received this e-mail from one of my slavemasters today.

******

Extend your 6.99% Promotional APR until October 2007*

It's time for a balance transfer.

Dear Z,
RE: Your account number ending in XXXX

Need extra cash this winter? Enjoy the warmth of a balance transfer. With a click, you can transfer balances, and use your promotional 6.99% APR through your statement closing date in April 2007. If a transfer is completed by your statement closing date in April 2007, then the promotional APR will be extended until October 2007. With just one monthly payment it's the perfect opportunity to:

Create extra cash flow when you transfer balances from higher-rate credit cards.
-Arrange for your dream vacation.
-Simplify your life by paying monthly bills with your credit card.
-Handle your finances conveniently on one statement.

Why not? Just click to open up a world of new possibilities for yourself. Go to exoticrapefantasies.com to transfer balances.

******
Here's my reply. (I did send this to customer support.)

******

Dear Bank of America

I really appreciate it when you encourage me to continue my apprenticeship in your indentured servant program, but I feel that I'm really not the person you're looking for. This position you have offered me has kept me in one place for far too long and there are other things I really have to do.

You see, I'm not a consumer anymore. I'm a creator, and a creator doesn't need things like televisions, extravagant dinners, leather sofas, or ipods that cost too much and take far too much of my energy. This energy is better spent creating and I have all the tools I will ever need to create.

So, continue raping the souls of the masses. I see no harm, if fucking people with no Vaseline till they bleed a horrible, soulless death is in fact, the moral thing to do... as long as your vacations are paid for, your ugly, waste-of-space houses stand over your heads, and your pampered children grow up with overpriced gadgets made from petrochemicals paid for in blood. Where's the foul?

Sincerely,

Z


******

I doubt I'll get a response.

(AG, you know what I'm talking about.)

Blah blah blah

I spent the entire day thinking about balloons filled with hydrogen at a birthday party at some elementary school.

Couldn't stop laughing about that. I know, it's sick, but still it's funny.

That got me thinking about consumption. Cycles of consumption. Then I got depressed, until I started thinking about the balloons filled with hydrogen and started laughing again.

Daily make due

Today, like most days, I pondered what I'm doing. And what is it I do? Make love to the machines.

I swear, when the world from the Matrix becomes reality, I'll be the one working for the machines, outside the matrix.

The dead speak... and they say, "I'm not dead yet."

I have been incredibly busy! Sorry to my friends who check in here. Life is demanding all of my attention. I’m lucky if I can find time to respond to the few e-mails I get everyday.

Things will slow down again. I don’t know when but within a months time, hopefully.

Work is merry work, and it’s exploding on all fronts. Too many 8am to 8pm days these last two weeks. Have you seen those Hupy and Abraham commercials? We do work for them. They keep us as busy as Ab-ra-ca-blab-ra.

The band is in full force recording mode, which means I’m in full force recording mode. Twelve songs. Bass and Drum tracks are in the can. Guitar and misc. ambient, etc. tracks are up to bat and I’ve been spending my time rifling through the last years worth of demo recording archives of these songs trying to remember the good layering ideas I came up with.

I’ve also had to do “tone mapping” and I’m not quite done with that. (My deadline is Saturday morning. I use an effects processor live and each song has its own distinct preamp simulator sound that I use. Different gain levels, different delay decay times, choruses and reverbs, compression, vibrato, tremolo… the list goes on. Anyway, for some merry reason, I thought it would be a good idea to use a borrowed amp for a purer tone and now I have to craft the shifting sounds of my guitar through an array of tones in a piece of equipment I am unfamiliar with. (Kinda like puberty, or an internment camp.)

Twelve color-coded spread sheets, with copious notes attached to each, are on my list of things to finish either tonight or Friday, seeing as how Wednesday and Thursday are already planned till the later hours. Beh… I’ll get it done. I always do.

It makes me think with all of this labouring that I could have a better-paying job.

Speaking of jobs!

Joe had a “Reference” phone interview last week. I think the last job I applied for with him as a reference was mid December. A Cheerie two months ago!!! I need to research this. I seem to recall it was a job I was VERY interested in. (Re-apply?)

I gotta get some sleep. Affidavits do draft in the morning. They’re piling up on me faster than I can say, “What the Gas?”

I’ll do my best to stay up on things here, but no promises. Maybe even some more pictures!!! I got software to move pictures off my olde tyme digital camera but haven't had the time to set it up. Pooh!

Cloud Cultist Reporting

I got my copy of Cloud Cult's new album. Amazing piece of work it is, indeed.

Listen to Take Your Medicine on their site. You have to click on the listen to song link. I'm not going to upload my copy. You should just buy the damn thing if you like what you hear.

The song Your 8th Birthday is beautiful. I can't explain it but if you know the story of the songwriter, it'll move you.