Monday, June 28, 2004
its like amos tutuola in a dress at Cambridge University, really.
,it'd be better in paris.
you broke my heart
what?
sigh.
this is absurd.
the pink people are frowning.
eh?
its a pop hit.
its like african fiction, really.
nubes rojas.
right.
i just dont want to break hearts anymore
i was mostly kidding
i just thought
i need to move to san francisco. where even sweat is sweet and sugar is shattered
(sunlight woven with silver silences)
orany, i guess.
: you'd be bett: not breaking hearts/reading Russian novels/ playing the guitar in elevators/ pensando en lo que no puede ser. . . . . . . .
: the man with the red suitwhat did you dream last night?
: i will write you something instead
: deal?
books and big booty (male) bitches?
:
discos en el 8-track:
Wilco- a ghost is born
David Cross- it's not funny
Olivia Tremor Control- animation music, vol. 1
Ellen Allien- Berlinette
Clinic- Winchester Cathedral
you broke my heart
what?
sigh.
this is absurd.
the pink people are frowning.
eh?
its a pop hit.
its like african fiction, really.
nubes rojas.
right.
i just dont want to break hearts anymore
i was mostly kidding
i just thought
i need to move to san francisco. where even sweat is sweet and sugar is shattered
(sunlight woven with silver silences)
orany, i guess.
: you'd be bett: not breaking hearts/reading Russian novels/ playing the guitar in elevators/ pensando en lo que no puede ser. . . . . . . .
: the man with the red suitwhat did you dream last night?
: i will write you something instead
: deal?
books and big booty (male) bitches?
:
discos en el 8-track:
Wilco- a ghost is born
David Cross- it's not funny
Olivia Tremor Control- animation music, vol. 1
Ellen Allien- Berlinette
Clinic- Winchester Cathedral
Saturday, June 26, 2004
methodologies.
/the quiet that cuts/
estoy construyendo un disco de sonidos micro.
de sampleos destruidos.
de ruido negro.
de voces.
el titulo tentativo es interno.
lo que esta en el turntable:
nam june paik- works 1958-1979
erik satie- the best of...
matmos- a chance to cut is a chance to cure
kompakt 100- 100th release remix compilation
mike patton- pranzo oltranzista
bonnie 'prince' billy- master and everyone
estoy construyendo un disco de sonidos micro.
de sampleos destruidos.
de ruido negro.
de voces.
el titulo tentativo es interno.
lo que esta en el turntable:
nam june paik- works 1958-1979
erik satie- the best of...
matmos- a chance to cut is a chance to cure
kompakt 100- 100th release remix compilation
mike patton- pranzo oltranzista
bonnie 'prince' billy- master and everyone
Friday, June 25, 2004
(sol)edad=sun age=solitude.
after a month of tedious reading, i have finally finished a great novel that epitomizes the capability good literature contains:
that of change.
One Hundred Years of Solitude is many things. A dense, complicated, insightful, humorous, philosophical and meticulous novel of ambitious proportions that certainly justifies the fact that Gabo had to sell his furniture just to pay for smokes to finish it. Unfortunately, i had to read it in English. I started to read it in Spanish a few months ago, then i decided to give it away as a gift to a good friend that had just graduated. So, i went ahead and read the copy i had.
Regardless, after talking with a friend in Cambridge who didnt finish it (as i have done with many a work, admittedly...im working on that pile), i would certainly recommend folks take the time to tackle this work. Its understandable. War and Peace, The Karamazov Brothers and Don Quixote are seminal works that i have promised myself i'd get to before i die. Yet, who knows if time will allow me to reach their completion.
at any rate, as Troy McLure once wisefully uttered: "and now what you've all been waiting for...hardcore nudity!"
and does this book have it: not so much a pornographic detail, but a sensous and intense presence of sexuality, which is integral to the reproduction and demise of an entire town.
i just love works that are thick with meaning, albeit magical. For those not in the know, there is a school of Latin-American writers that have rejected the tenets of Magical Realism (and with good reason) in favor of a more realistic approach to contemporary literature. Their called McOndo as in Condos, McDonalds and Macintoshes, which better reflect a globalized Latin-America. I actually like some of their works, despite their own reactionary admissions and a sometimes-weak trashy aesthetic that would work better as London grime (holla Dizzee!) or gritty Mobb Deep-ish poetics-meet-academic identity politics.
but, when all that is said and done, their movement is still based on this one novel. and quite sincerely its one of the few novels i have ever read that moved me, both intellectually and emotionally, in quite some time. which actually surprises me due to its lack (again, this could be a matter of translation) of poetically stringed prose and almost journalistic (which being that Gabo was a journalist...) steez.
my two cents.
this is shit for thinking and feeling people.
now on to Voltaire's Candide, Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment, Gogol's Dead Souls, Homer's The Odyssey and Philip K. Dick's Valis, Carlos Fuentes' La Muerte De Artemio Cruz, Ursula K. Le Guin's The Left Hand of Darkness and Alfred Bester's The Demolished Man...
in due time.
Everything is known.
that of change.
One Hundred Years of Solitude is many things. A dense, complicated, insightful, humorous, philosophical and meticulous novel of ambitious proportions that certainly justifies the fact that Gabo had to sell his furniture just to pay for smokes to finish it. Unfortunately, i had to read it in English. I started to read it in Spanish a few months ago, then i decided to give it away as a gift to a good friend that had just graduated. So, i went ahead and read the copy i had.
Regardless, after talking with a friend in Cambridge who didnt finish it (as i have done with many a work, admittedly...im working on that pile), i would certainly recommend folks take the time to tackle this work. Its understandable. War and Peace, The Karamazov Brothers and Don Quixote are seminal works that i have promised myself i'd get to before i die. Yet, who knows if time will allow me to reach their completion.
at any rate, as Troy McLure once wisefully uttered: "and now what you've all been waiting for...hardcore nudity!"
and does this book have it: not so much a pornographic detail, but a sensous and intense presence of sexuality, which is integral to the reproduction and demise of an entire town.
i just love works that are thick with meaning, albeit magical. For those not in the know, there is a school of Latin-American writers that have rejected the tenets of Magical Realism (and with good reason) in favor of a more realistic approach to contemporary literature. Their called McOndo as in Condos, McDonalds and Macintoshes, which better reflect a globalized Latin-America. I actually like some of their works, despite their own reactionary admissions and a sometimes-weak trashy aesthetic that would work better as London grime (holla Dizzee!) or gritty Mobb Deep-ish poetics-meet-academic identity politics.
but, when all that is said and done, their movement is still based on this one novel. and quite sincerely its one of the few novels i have ever read that moved me, both intellectually and emotionally, in quite some time. which actually surprises me due to its lack (again, this could be a matter of translation) of poetically stringed prose and almost journalistic (which being that Gabo was a journalist...) steez.
my two cents.
this is shit for thinking and feeling people.
now on to Voltaire's Candide, Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment, Gogol's Dead Souls, Homer's The Odyssey and Philip K. Dick's Valis, Carlos Fuentes' La Muerte De Artemio Cruz, Ursula K. Le Guin's The Left Hand of Darkness and Alfred Bester's The Demolished Man...
in due time.
Everything is known.
Thursday, June 24, 2004
harold bloom can kiss my non-indie mexican ass.
so, i was sitting on my old, beat-up brown couch finishing One Hundred Years of Solitude when i put the book down and began throwing ideas around in me noggin. flipped through the books that were thrown about my couch such as (but not limited to), a French verbs workbook, Jonathan Lethem's latest novel, an old Lit Crit book called Mimesis and some letters by Italo Calvino. then, it struck me:
who would win in a battle between Shakespeare and Batman?
see, i bought my nephew a Shakespeare toy in Austin. so, young dude could prep up and be a future English teacher (counting my cards too soon, eh?) like his Uncle. then i remembered he got a dope ass Batman figure for christmas. like whoa.
Shakespeare vs. Batman. think about it.....think about it some more...
it sure beats a Skillz vs. Shaq battle (somebody hit the snooze button, please.)
but seriously. could, like, dunny talk his way out of it? Ill Will vs. the Dark Knight?
just don't get Paris involved.
and whats the deal with politicians? all those people making laws and shaking hands. i mean, who asked them?
and why did Spain get knocked the hell out of the first round of Euro 2004 soccer?
on a more bubbly note: Richard Linklater is making a film of PKD's A Scanner Darkly in Austin.
and on an even bubblier note: Mexico booted USA out of the Olympics in futbol!
ahem. i thought it was kinda nice.
[en la vientre del sol solamente existe el silencio de la soledad]
who would win in a battle between Shakespeare and Batman?
see, i bought my nephew a Shakespeare toy in Austin. so, young dude could prep up and be a future English teacher (counting my cards too soon, eh?) like his Uncle. then i remembered he got a dope ass Batman figure for christmas. like whoa.
Shakespeare vs. Batman. think about it.....think about it some more...
it sure beats a Skillz vs. Shaq battle (somebody hit the snooze button, please.)
but seriously. could, like, dunny talk his way out of it? Ill Will vs. the Dark Knight?
just don't get Paris involved.
and whats the deal with politicians? all those people making laws and shaking hands. i mean, who asked them?
and why did Spain get knocked the hell out of the first round of Euro 2004 soccer?
on a more bubbly note: Richard Linklater is making a film of PKD's A Scanner Darkly in Austin.
and on an even bubblier note: Mexico booted USA out of the Olympics in futbol!
ahem. i thought it was kinda nice.
[en la vientre del sol solamente existe el silencio de la soledad]
Monday, June 21, 2004
the people's champion.
(stop. just sit there a minute. and think about it.
Karl Malone will never get a championship ring. sigh.
beautiful, isnt it?)
dead tomorrows + weekend quips:
stealing essays by Russian Formalists from used bookstores, meeting wonderful women from New Orleans and helping them study for art history exams, talking to pretty ladies from Puerto Rico (im an 8....really), overhearing teeny-bopper Christian schoolgirls at a local coffeeshop about what they consider "drawing the line" in their relationships with boys (straight out of Saved!), listening to what is easily one of the best releases this year aka the new dalek record (more on that later), drunken poker nights with three bitches eyeing me (no, really, they were dogs), latenight pillow fights ('its your girlfriend, she says she's gonna be late...'), Acid Mothers Temple beaming lasers and Amoeba Records t-shirts in Denton, syrupy sunsets over texas lakes (shit looks like New Zealand, word life!), Rasheed Wallace kissing the trophy, quiet birthdays that mean more.
and last but not least...
dancing the night away with one of the prettiest and sweetest girls i have ever met.
enjoy your year in Mexico.
and cliches are annoying for a reason (because of their truth content): you dont know what you have until you lose it.
look up sometimes, people.
on rotation on the turntable and not:
the album leaf- in a safe place
dalek- absence
black dice- creature comforts
caetano veloso- s/t (1968)
jadakiss- kiss of death
the dillinger escape plan- irony is a dead scene
Karl Malone will never get a championship ring. sigh.
beautiful, isnt it?)
dead tomorrows + weekend quips:
stealing essays by Russian Formalists from used bookstores, meeting wonderful women from New Orleans and helping them study for art history exams, talking to pretty ladies from Puerto Rico (im an 8....really), overhearing teeny-bopper Christian schoolgirls at a local coffeeshop about what they consider "drawing the line" in their relationships with boys (straight out of Saved!), listening to what is easily one of the best releases this year aka the new dalek record (more on that later), drunken poker nights with three bitches eyeing me (no, really, they were dogs), latenight pillow fights ('its your girlfriend, she says she's gonna be late...'), Acid Mothers Temple beaming lasers and Amoeba Records t-shirts in Denton, syrupy sunsets over texas lakes (shit looks like New Zealand, word life!), Rasheed Wallace kissing the trophy, quiet birthdays that mean more.
and last but not least...
dancing the night away with one of the prettiest and sweetest girls i have ever met.
enjoy your year in Mexico.
and cliches are annoying for a reason (because of their truth content): you dont know what you have until you lose it.
look up sometimes, people.
on rotation on the turntable and not:
the album leaf- in a safe place
dalek- absence
black dice- creature comforts
caetano veloso- s/t (1968)
jadakiss- kiss of death
the dillinger escape plan- irony is a dead scene
Thursday, June 10, 2004
it's all around me.
saw Califone last night.
it was like the Grateful Dead were genetically modified by John McEntire.
interesting.
off to see Tortoise, Beans and some newbies, The New Year in Dallas.
i consider myself a patient dude, but let's see if 10 minute textured pieces dont wear me out. alas, there's always Beans' fidgety intellectualism.
or maybe i'll just stay home and watch the Pistons pound Hollywood's prettiest.
playlist:
Tom Ze- Fabrication Defect
Faust- live in Edinburgh 1997
Outkast- ATLiens
Sonic Youth- Sonic Nurse
Manu Chao- Clandestino
it was like the Grateful Dead were genetically modified by John McEntire.
interesting.
off to see Tortoise, Beans and some newbies, The New Year in Dallas.
i consider myself a patient dude, but let's see if 10 minute textured pieces dont wear me out. alas, there's always Beans' fidgety intellectualism.
or maybe i'll just stay home and watch the Pistons pound Hollywood's prettiest.
playlist:
Tom Ze- Fabrication Defect
Faust- live in Edinburgh 1997
Outkast- ATLiens
Sonic Youth- Sonic Nurse
Manu Chao- Clandestino
Wednesday, June 02, 2004
robotics.
staying up until 10 in the morning, cokedup on coffee, watching Pi, reading philosophy papers and listening to Autechre is what i call a true Texas summer.
it seems now, more than ever, moving is the conduit of contemporary life.
it always has been, i guess. but, i've enjoyed relative geographical permanence. yet, for some reason i think thats gonna end soon. that shit better end soon.
graduating has got a dude mad stressed.
talked to Will from dalek today. he mentioned the new record is done and mastered. its gonna be called "absence". i forgot how excited i used to get about hip-hop records.
now i just sound old.
on a much cheerier note, my work has been getting steady ink in URB.
check the Xiu Xiu review and the Dangermouse scribbles in the latest issue.
on the tube:
Good Times
The Brothers Quay
it seems now, more than ever, moving is the conduit of contemporary life.
it always has been, i guess. but, i've enjoyed relative geographical permanence. yet, for some reason i think thats gonna end soon. that shit better end soon.
graduating has got a dude mad stressed.
talked to Will from dalek today. he mentioned the new record is done and mastered. its gonna be called "absence". i forgot how excited i used to get about hip-hop records.
now i just sound old.
on a much cheerier note, my work has been getting steady ink in URB.
check the Xiu Xiu review and the Dangermouse scribbles in the latest issue.
on the tube:
Good Times
The Brothers Quay
