A Dreamer...

"A dreamer burdened with reality..."

Fascists & Semi-Fascists...

As the saying goes, "The Stupid burns."

The GOP fascists and semi-fascists love to cultivate their anger. That anger makes them especially loud & stupid. Their stupidity, and their failures in the broader culture pisses them off, and it all becomes a weird feedback loop: Anger>Stupidity>Anger. What makes them angry? 

Women, Blacks, Various People of Color, Liberals, Democrats, Joe Biden, FBI, DOJ, The Rule of Law, Democracy, Hilary Clinton, Human Rights, Gay Rights, LGBTQ Rights, the good working order of Government, sensible Climate Policy, sensible Public Health Policy, Common Sense and Decency.

Can it be that a sitting Republican  U.S. Senator (Lindsey Graham from South Carolina), is warning/threatening violence from the MAGA hordes if their beloved MAGA King is indicted?

That's it baby, in a nutshell. The GOP=MAGA, MAGA=Fascism.  Yes. It can happen here. It's all happening NOW!

Fascism:  "a far-right, authoritarian, ultranationalist political ideology and movement... political violence and war as means that can achieve national rejuvenation" = MAGA & MAGA KING

So the rest of us, the common-sense majority is supposed to be afraid, to turn away from the Rule of Law, in the face of violent threats? This is not the way to run a country. Our Democracy depends on the Constitutional Order, the Rule of Law. "No man or woman is above the law," must be a guiding principle.

I do think the Majority of Americans want to keep our Democracy. We all need to stand up against the lawless, loud, angry, and armed MAGAs. I do think we are lucky to have some true American Patriots in positions of power, I think of Joe Biden, Merrick Garland, and many others. I also trust common-sense, decency, cooler-heads. The folks willing to roll up their sleeves and do the good work in the face of the loud, stupid ones.

Lean to the Light, Turn Away from the Dark...

You know, if you follow along with Darwin and the grand natural experiment, Evolution, we are the "smart" and "tricky" monkeys, the species that dominates this gloriously beautiful, blue-planet. We are imaginative, creative, funny, weird, we love to be fruitful and multiply. We are practitioners of great mischief, and uncommon grace and kindness. We murder, we rape, we invent crazy-ass schemes and commit horrible atrocities. We also conjure up great beauty and wonder in the Arts and Sciences.  We are fairly smart, although we might not be as smart as we think we are. 

Lately, and maybe always, as a culture, a society, as nations, civilizations, we lean to the light or the dark, depending on our collective mood. Check out history. We have our "Dark Ages," and our "Enlightenments."  We kind of ping-pong between them. Sometimes, we have our dark age right in the middle of our enlightenment. Like I said, we are tricky.

So, yes, to get to the point. Lately we have elevated the Stupid to grand heights around the globe. Maybe it a bit of a delusion of grandeur, or the crazy-making mood in the face of our climate catastrophe, looming death, destruction and massive extinction.

Just when we should be elevating the smart ones amongst us, we instead celebrate and elevate and anoint the stupid ones. It's a really fucking retrograde way, not a way forward at all, it is a turning backward into a certain stupid death and oblivion.  We see it everywhere. The stupid has been unleashed. Our MAGA King and his legion of followers is a perfect encapsulation of this tendency. These folks are not very intelligent, but they are loud, quickly resort to anger and violence. They get lots of attention, and often  dominate the conversation.  They multiply the stupid, being stupid is super-contagious. They are a minority, but because they are loud and armed and stupid, they tend to suck all the air out of a room.

The others, the smart ones, or maybe the less stupid ones, need to wake up. There are ways to work around the stupid ones. There is Democracy, the Rule of Law, Norms, kindnesses, small acts of gentleness and understanding. Lead by example. By doing the good work. Carrying on despite the B.S. Lean to the light, turn away from the dark.

Guide-Posts...

I have a few guide-post ideas, which have emerged/developed over time, attending the "school of hard knocks" (see previous post). I had a long, rambling conversation, via phone, with a long-time fellow-traveller yesterday. It was more of a monologue, I was mostly on the receiving end.

My takeaways?

Life is hard, complicated, tricky.

We can dream and make plans, but then we are in a dance with "reality," and we don't really call the tune. We can meet the day with all we have, then we let it come down.

Everything counts. What we do, what we say, what we think, what we believe, what we dream, what we fear all add up. We carry the weight of it all our hearts, our heads, our bodies, our souls.

What is at play? Luck? Destiny? Will? Imagination? Chaos? Perfect coincidence? Synchronicity? Random-ness?

Who knows? Finally, if we examine the world with our full attention, it's clear we really, really know nothing with certainty. Everything is fungible, marginal, guess-work, hope and chance!

Passing...

A reminder, as if you needed reminding...

You are a guest. A temporary lodger. Everything is here, it is all for you, but for a limited time only. When is your time up? Who knows? There is a "sell-date," an expiration date, that goes with the deal, it is probably written somewhere, maybe on a stone, in a cave, in a land, over the hills and far away. You can imagine. You are that kind of guest. One with ideas and plans and dreams. You are gifted with an over-active imagination. You don't like to count, you try to keep yourself attentive to the moment. Even these fleeting thoughts, these crazy-ass emotions are like flittering little guests, they drop by for awhile and then scurry off. It is a cool, late August morning, and it actually already feels like Fall. The passing of Summer looms. Passing thru. That's the main thing. There is always a movement, change is on the wind. You are here, like special guest, at an unimaginable feast. Here, then in a blink, gone.

Funny & Good...

A funny life. 

Turns out the least prestigious, lowest-paying jobs I have had, have been my most rewarding. When you find yourself on the lowest rung of the ladder you can pretty much be yourself to the max. Which is probably the most important thing to be. At the moment my titles: dog-walker, house-sitter. Being a faithful buddy, caretaker, and servant.  I live, for a few days, in a big old house I can't afford. I sleep in a comfy, cushy bed. I am the lost king of a substantial manor; a big, empty house, filled with luxuries and ghosts. A matronly womanly ghost haunts this place. I can often smell her perfume wafting thru the halls. I am paid to be attentive: alive, aware, awake. I walk the neighborhood with a furry friend, and pick up shit with little green doggie bags. Not so bad, not so menial. Living in this great, over-stuffed, Capitalist Dystopia, I know there are folks toiling away in back-breaking, brain-numbing, soul-killing, jobs. I have had a few of those myself over the years. The most-prestigious and highest-paying jobs I ever had were the most corrosive, soul-killing, frustrating ones. I often cashed the big checks, but I always felt out of place, out of step, I felt like a fraud, and a phony; I worked with the worst people, totally selfish, greedy, unhappy assholes. I often had to pretend to be someone I really wasn't, and that is a stupid, counter-productive, stress-inducing, and silly way to spend one's precious time. So, yeah, living honestly over here, making an honest buck, being myself to the max. It's not bad. I mean, fuck, it's really, truly, madly and deeply the good life.

No One Wants to be Told Anything...

Advice. It usually doesn't really work. One thing I have learned, no one wants to be told anything. I should know, I am one of those human beings. We all plow ahead and enroll ourselves in the "school of hard knocks." We make our own choices, make our own mistakes, fuck up things all on our own. That is what we call a well-lived Life.  Most of us have earned the right to sing like Sinatra: "I did it my way."

It's NOT the most efficient way to live. Probably not even smart. A life of blind alleys, false starts, strange chimeras and rabbit-holes. I think we could all learn a thing or two from experienced travelers. Good advice is a gift.

Kurt Vonnegut's advice (see previous post), totally resonates with me. What if we all would have read that letter early on in our lives? "Make Your Soul Grow!" It's a bit reminiscent of Joseph Campbell's "Follow Your Bliss."

Cuts thru a lot of B.S. Makes you reflect on what's important: Love, Beauty, Poetry, Heart, Passion, Play.

You know, I'd add a few other ideas to the mix: 

Find what you love to do, and do that as often as you can.

Be true to yourself, and to others.

Spend more time in the doing.

Stop and smell the roses.

Meditate, contemplate.

Find time to be still and silent.

Fill yourself with Music, Poetry, Theater, Art.

Avoid Assholes, they are legion. Approach tasks with "Beginner's Mind." Go in with the idea that you know nothing. Be wide-eyed, open-minded. Don't be afraid to try, to fail, to Hope. Don't worry about "what others think of you." You are uniquely you. Be you to the max.

Damn the Torpedoes!

"Make Your Soul Grow." - K. Vonnegut

This is magnificent. The best advice you can possibly imagine.

A life-mission: "MAKE YOUR SOUL GROW!" - K. Vonnegut

In 2006 an English Teacher asked students to write a letter to a famous author, Kurt Vonnegut was the only one to respond...

Two Very Good Things, Indeed...

Yesterday, a late Monday afternoon "clean-up time" session. Scrubbed and swept. Mopped the deck. Got everything squeaky-clean. We worked up a healthy sweat. It felt good. Cleared the cobwebs and dust-bunnies. The smell of Meyers peppermint cleaning elixir wafted thru the air.

The soundtrack album spinning on the box was Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers' "The Last DJ" (2002), a recent score on my last visit to the used record store. I love rifling thru the used CDs section. It's sort of a ZEN activity, and you never know what you will come across. I do believe this is the "golden age" of the CD. $5 bucks got me a pristine copy of this recording.

It sounds so fresh, alive, magnificent. What a fabulous band. Mike Campbell is one of the great r&r guitarists. Tom is in fine form: sharp, incisive, r&r vocals and song-writing. The record almost sounds like a "concept" record. What's the concept? A talented music maker is really, really pissed off, and fired up, about the corrupt, corporate, greedy, unethical, music biz. Tom sings and plays with a fiery passion.

It comes across to me as a great companion piece to the Kink's superb, masterful, knockout record, "Lola vs. Powerman and the Moneygoround" (1970). Tom Petty actually sounds quite a bit like Ray Davies, which is a good thing, yes, a really, very, good thing, indeed. 

B.S. on a Grand Scale...

We watched Baz Lurhman's "Elvis" last night. A ridiculous, misleading, wrong-headed "bio-pic." It is bold, flashy and trashy. Total Shite. I mean, so, so bad. We watched it to the end. Sort of like a pop culture car crash of a movie. And total Bullshit too. Even the scenes depicting "true-to-life" events come across as over-hyped, total fabrication. Nothing rings true. At all. There are lies in nearly every scene. Really. Leads one to want to re-evaluate all of Baz Luhrman's work, and all of Elvis' work too.

My new evaluation of both? Total B.S. All surface flash, with no substance. Looks good. But totally vacant.

I was not an Elvis fan when I was young. Elvis represented everything I despised about our crass-commercialized-over-heated-Capitalist-American Dystopia. Style and flash over any substance. Elvis seemed like a hollow, taste-less, momma's boy with a strange and haunting voice.

I did read Peter Guralnick's two volume biography of Elvis - (1994). Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley and  Careless Love: The Unmaking of Elvis Presley

Great books. An American Iliad and Odyssey  It gave me more of an appreciation for what Elvis meant to music and pop culture. A supremely flawed human being caught up in an amazing swirl of unimaginable success. A weird, American story. And a myth. Kind of like the Old Testament of Pop. Stranger and richer than fiction.

Elvis was the great white whale of American Pop Culture. His short-lived r&r phase was hugely influential to some of the folks I really do admire, including John Lennon, Paul McCartney and Keith Richards.

Elvis did some amazing sessions at Sun Studios. It was mostly downhill from there, at least musically. But he was idolized, made into a "King" and became an overstuffed, ridiculous Vegas Marionette, packed to the gills with every narcotic invented by man. A lonely, hollow, uncultured, tasteless, & crass man surrounded by a brainless posse all living off his riches. I guess it truly is an All-American story. All the worst qualities of America distilled in one large, white, man.

Really, kind of a sad saga. Elvis was just human being. Kind of lame and shallow. Changed the world.

But Lurhman's film is an abomination. He seems to want to depict Elvis as relevant and "woke." He invents scenes and motivations that are totally phony and cringe-worthy. A crime against any semblance of truth, or even "artistic truth." Glitz and flash rules. Really, it is that bad, really, really bad. Hollow. Tasteless. Silly. Maybe worth watching as an illustration of complete B.S. on a grand scale. 

Maybe...

"Maybe we try it, and see what happens?"

That's seems like a good life-strategy; long-form improvisation and life-long experimentation, writ large.

Dream-Shows...

One my artistic mentors and collaborators always reminded me that when we were at the task at hand, and in our case, that meant staging elaborate theatrical productions together on a shoe-string, smoke and mirrors budget, we were doing "the good work." Creative. Engaging. Passionate. We filled our days pursuing crazy little dream-shows, that we'd put on and then take down. Short runs. Small audiences. We'd do the work, totally embrace all the little madnesses to make a show, and then it would all vanish in a blink of the eye. There and then gone. Everything, then, nothing. Just the smoke, the residue of a thing. Yep. The good work. Except, you know, the experience was alive in our hearts and minds. A life-lesson. Do the work. Do the good work. Always. And then let it go. No clinging. No holding-on. Start conjuring the next little dream.

Music Resolves & Celebrates!

Weathered, public art on the EL (Artist: Unknown). 

Devil & Angel, Shadow & Light, Evil & Good, Beast & Beauty, Destruction & Creation. Music resolving & celebrating all Dichotomies! That is a Musical Credo right there!

The Joy and Utility of "Plodding!"

Plodding along. Putting your shoulder to the wheel, or the boulder. Doing the work. Being disciplined & persistent. Practicing. Always practicing, but you fool yourself by calling it "play." Yes. Always be playing. Always be moving. Always be onto the next thing. Who knows, maybe that is how you move mountains? One handful of dirt at a time. One day, you wake up, and you find that your world is transformed. It all happened in micro-steps, and by the time you face the new reality, it isn't all that surprising. It's just the way it is at the present moment, soon to be a different moment as you plod your way to a shadowy, distant future...

Uncommon Serenity...

Hey, if you are going to "flow Zen," (see previous post), you may as well put your own personal stamp on it. I mean, of course, you don't take anything personally, you still just flow, but maybe you come up with your own customized, nifty, zippy, mantra; for instance:

"Chill the Fuck Out."

That really seemed to work for me all day yesterday. I repeated it silently all day as I walked, talked, hiked and biked thru a summer paradise. It was a little tool I employed to stamp the day with a certain "mind-set." It gave my every moment a bit of focus and clarity, and a certain uncommon serenity.

Zen Time...

I counsel myself: BE ZEN.

To me that means, be chill. Relax. Watch the River Flow. Be the River. Flow. You know, no needing, wanting, grasping. Just BE-ing.

Let Go...

You can "hold a grudge" for days, weeks, months, years, decades. Over my long and zig-zag life- trajectory, I have invented reasons to hold grudges, and I have held onto them too, as if they were essential talismans. 

One day, you can decide to "let go." Maybe you just "forget" or you "forgive," or you have a change of heart, you "see the light." In an instant, in a brief flash of light, the grudge and all the energy around it is released into the ether. You can actually feel a clearing, a cleansing wash over you.

You realize that the grudge was really an unnecessary block, like a big ominous, dead boulder, that you carried around inside. Sometimes it's just better to "bury the hatchet." Let go. Make Peace. Really.

MAGA King is in a World of Hurt...

Hah! It is funny. I mean, yes, it is sad too. To think that a person who had the title "President," was so callous, so corrupt, so stupid, so careless, with boxes and boxes of "secrets" of the good, old USA, I mean, YIKES, what a toxic-clown, a cad,  a... I don't know, descriptive words finally fail...

Listen to the MAGA Cry-Babies wailing now. They are just so, so MAD. How dare anyone mess with their MAGA King?  It is all sort of hilarious. And talk about KARMA. Remember how MAGA King and his slobbering Minions wanted to "Lock Her Up?"  It was all vaguely about an email server.  Like I said, pretty damn funny...

But... MAGA King is now in a major  "world of hurt." MAGA can fume, they can spin, they can shout, they can concoct ridiculous claims and defenses.  The truth: boxes and boxes and boxes of documents were seized in a legally sanctioned search. MAGA King was illegally hoarding a treasure trove of documents... so, so, so, very, very funny...

'If the FBI really did scoop up highly sensitive documents when they were at Mar-a-Lago the other day, then there may be relatively few steps left to charging him — aside from cataloging the 12 new boxes of stolen documents. DOJ may only need permission from the agencies that own these documents to make the declassifications required to prosecute it.

By going to Mar-a-Lago and asking for these documents in person on June 3, DOJ made it very easy to prove that Trump had been asked, but refused, to give any classified documents found in Trump’s possession on Monday back." - Marcy Wheeler

Prediction: Indictments Coming Soon!

If you are paying attention you can watch the disinformation noise machine kick into high gear. It's 24/7 phenomenon. The gaseous-loud-talkers on the wanna-be-fascist, lunatic right have perfected their frenetic campaign of media hacks. Right now, their MAGA King is under threat from the Law and Order Crowd.  One side is armed with hot-air, fury, rage, table-pounding, bad-faith arguments, stupidities, absurdities, wild-ass conspiracies, hard-headed idiocies, more table-pounding, more shouting, more outrage, more confusing, mind-numbing P.R. BULLSHIT.  

On the other side, there is a court-sanctioned warrant, an orderly, and thorough search of a suspected crime scene, a list of probable crimes, a catalog (boxes and boxes) of evidence, a properly-executed legal process.  A mild-mannered AG, a professional team of FBI agents, a DOJ intent on investigating a theft of State Secrets, Obstruction of on-going investigations, Destruction of classified documents, possible Espionage.

Forget the noise, the table-pounding. Check out the real-deal documents, there is a narrative in the docs. If you keep your head clear, your eyes peeled, it is pretty damn obvious that a major shit-load of serious INDICTMENTS will be coming soon. MAGA King is pretty fucked,  no doubt. Sure you can be the King of P.R. of B.S. of noise and thunder, but when the dust clears there is no Empire, there is no King, just a hollow con-man, it's all just noise & toxic gas.

Stealing State Secrets is a "No-No..."

Hey Folks - just a friendly reminder: stealing "State Secrets" is a pretty serious crime (for more see the Rosenbergs). You know, if you are hoarding anything marked, "Top Secret," "Classified," "Confidential;" if you have boxes and boxes of those kinds of documents in your basement, don't be surprised if a team of FBI agents comes knocking on your door. Hell, I mean, if they are armed with a Warrant, they may not even knock, and you know, well, that is just the way DOJ rolls.

I mean, it pretty much doesn't matter who you think you are or who you pretend to be. You may be thinking you are some kind of MAGA King, someone beyond the reach of the Law, someone who hovers above everyone else, untouchable, unimpeachable, immune to gravity and the common laws of the land.  But, funny enough, you would be dead-wrong. The reality: if you are an Ex-President, you know an Ex-Anything, you are no different from any one else. AND if you were actually trying to sell any of those docs, or the information contained in them, you would find yourself in a  major, fucking, World of Hurt.  

If it could happen to the MAGA King, yes, well, it could happen to anyone of us.  That is the way it's supposed to work...

I Really Don't...

I really don't know what to make of this...

I do believe we live in an amazing Universe of Signs & Wonders. I listen to and try to follow my intuitions, my visions and my dreams. Sometimes I receive messages in my sleep. Last night these words were sung to me in an insistent & mellifluous voice:

"You are the Fruit-Picker's Newsboy."

Like I said, I really don't know what to make of this...

Loudly Pounding the Table...

Oh man. So much of our culture is about being LOUD and pounding the table; the facts, the truth be damned! Being a Loud, No-Nothing, Totally Self-Righteous and Aggrieved Asshole is a brand. Cable channels, political parties, podcasts, information platforms, celebrities, businesses, are devoted to mind-numbing chatter & deafening noise. There are $$$ to be made, empires to be built by being super-obnoxious, odious, toxic, stupid, and rabidly-foaming at the mouth. Castles made of B.S. Brain-numbing shite. You must get a bit of perspective. Don't let the noise overwhelm you. It is so much "sound and fury signifying nothing."

Cooler Heads, please prevail. Yes, a loud, white, fat man, a famous clown and con-man, illegally took classified documents to his garish vacation castle in Florida (see previous post). A judge signed off on a search warrant to locate and confiscate the docs, and the FBI conducted a thorough search. It's just the normal workings of the legal system and the Justice Department. Remember: NO MAN IS ABOVE THE LAW. All that outraged, yelling, whining, crying, & pounding the table doesn't mean shite. Don't let the noises from the over-fed, rabid-ones confuse and confound you. The chickens are just coming home to roost!

Some News Gladdens the Heart...

Hah. The news: The FBI searches Mar A Lago. Some news stories really do "gladden the heart." Lots of interesting terms thrown around this a.m. - "Probable Cause," "Classified Documents," "Espionage," "Prosecutable Crimes," "FBI Court-Sanctioned Raid," "Stolen Documents."

Like they often say (although sometimes you wonder): No one is above the law. Nice sentiment, doesn't always work that way, but it is an excellent guiding principle for a Country. Especially one that is proud of it's Free and Fair Democracy. You know, the idea of that Shining City on the Hill.  We often don't live up to that ideal. But sometimes we really do. Maybe this is one of those cases?

There are No Kings, No Dictators here. Just Citizens. All of us Equal, and responsible for our actions.

So yeah, celebrating this a.m. Pretty sure there are many roads to Justice. One gate may have swung widly open.  What happens next?! Inquiring minds want to know!

A Worried Dream, A Not-Worried Dream...

I don't think I have a "worried mind." I am not a first-class worrier. I know a few. I do not rate. But, I am haunted by worrying dreams once in awhile.

There is this recurring dream: I am an actor, doing a play, I can't find my script, I have not rehearsed my lines, I have no idea what I am supposed to be doing on stage, there is a full theater, a packed and enthusiastic audience, ready to see a play; I am in the play, but I have no idea what it is about, I can't find my script, I can't even find my pants, and I have no idea how to get to the theatre. I wander in a maze of hallways and dead-ends frantically trying to get to a theatre and an audience that is completely out of reach.

That is a worried dream.

Last night was a not-worried dream. I was in a recording session. It was enormous. An an enormous room and an enormous ensemble. A band, an orchestra, a contingent of sexy girl-group backup singers. I was playing guitar. A famous record producer, a grizzled vet, was producing the session. And two folks offered me guitars to play during the session. 

Every take went well. And these guitars that were offered to me were magnificent; bizarre, strange and beautiful. I conjured up amazing guitar music. Every note, every take was killer. Not one note misplaced. Perfect. Now that was a nice, not-worried, dream!

Scene...

Scene Study "The Rainmaker."

"Big Man, where are you going?"

"I don't rightly know."

The Leisure Class Vs. The Schlepping Class...

"It's all sort of funny, and then, it's all sort of sad. That's life."

There is the Leisure Class, and then there is the Schlepping Class. That's just the way of the world. 

We (my friend and I), were born into the Schlepping Class. We Schlep every day, every moment of every day. Even when we try to emulate the Leisure Class, we are actually Schlepping. Goofing Off is a poor way of trying abdicate from the Schlep, but it is just a temporary blip, a brief looking away from the responsibilities, in a bigger Life of Schlep.

Usually we are schlepping for the Leisure Class. Those folks who are the comfortable "Haves." The most comfortable of the comfortable ones are the ones born into unimaginable wealth. Wealth passed down over the ages. They have always had it, always deserved it, and they are passing it on to their long line of children, and their children's children.

The Schleppers come from a long, unbroken line of Schleppers. We are kind of like the Serfs, The Have Nots, The Never Will Haves. We live in that great unwashed realm of Needing, Wanting, Grasping. We can try. We can hustle, and scrape, and save and promote, and dream. Yes, in fact we are Awesome Dreamers. We are always conjuring Dream Bubbles. These insubstantial bubbles float above us, they sort of guide us and motivate us down the cobblestones, they are what keep us going, always going, forward into the dark night. Still, we Conjure and we Dream while we Schlep. That's a fact. 

Schlepping. 

Sisyphus would understand. You know, always pushing that boulder up those forever hills, and that's OK. It's good to know who we are, to understand where we come from. We are different from the Rich, from those who inhabit Leisure-hood as a Divine Right. And that is ok. We have learned to Love the Schlep (see previous post). Really. It can become a ZEN WAY of living.  And while we are pushing those boulders up those unforgiving hills, we are also conjuring those DREAM BUBBLES. That's Life. Funny and sad too. Sort of ZEN, sort of Magnificent. Always, always on the Schlep.

Love is God...

I think the folks who tell you GOD is LOVE actually have it backwards. It's really the other way around. LOVE is GOD.  The trick to living a "good" life, is to discover, and to pursue, what you LOVE to do, and to do those things to the max. Love rules. You find the things you LOVE and give everything to those things. I mean, I know every day is a challenge, there is the schlep, the slog, the powering thru, but just like a moth to the light, we must go to Love, always.

Infowars: Empire of Lies and Bullshit...

THIS EXACTLY. 

From Senior Editor Dan Solomon from the Texas Monthly. He's reporting on the Alex Jones/Infowars trial. Talk about an un-enviable, un-edible task. Everything associated with that total bloated creep Alex Jones stinks to high-heaven.  Here's hoping the Jury destroys that empire of lies, and bullshit.

4 Studios...

Sometimes you just follow your intuition...

We have been visiting recording studios (I will reveal no names at the moment for discretionary reasons) in and around Chicago. We feel our band is in peak form, we have 20 new songs written since our last recording, and we are looking for a new recording studio experience. Our goal: to record as live as possible, in an acoustically fabulous room with the full 7 piece band. We also want to record vocals live with the band, with very minimal post- session overdubbing, or futzing.

A cool challenge, no doubt. We feel our band is up to it. And we want to spread our wings a bit and see if we can make a great record in a new (for us) way.  We have always recorded the band live in a pretty much sonically dead room, with "scratch vocals" which were replaced with final vocal takes recorded in a another session. The results were great, but there was a lot of post session mixing and overdubbing involved. This time we are looking to a more retro, live and challenging approach. Also, we want to collapse the recording, mixing and mastering process significantly.

We have visited 4 studios. All of them have magnificent "live" rooms. Yesterday, we visited two studios, one by previous appointment and the last one on a total off the cuff whim: a legendary studio, with a famous owner, thinking it was totally out the question for our budget. We were in the area, and we phoned up the studio and asked if we could drop by for a visit.  My partner thought we came across as "yahoos" just calling at the last minute, but like I said, sometimes you just follow your intuition: WHY NOT?!  We still live in an analog world. Let's Make the call!

The answer was yes, we jumped on the bus, and headed over! We were so excited just to get a glimpse of this famous studio. The legendary owner greeted us at the door, and showed us around. Surprisingly, we had made the phone call at the perfect time. Famous recording engineer, not busy, just hanging around, glad to give a tour of his wonderful place. So many great records have been recorded in the building. We were totally, completely knocked out.

AND, it looks like we actually may be able to afford to record in this studio. This morning, the smoke clears, and we have a grand new vision.  4 studios, all contenders, the last one on whim, might just be  the winner.  We shall see. 

Manifestation of Nature...

Yes. Life. You can think of it as fragile, unique, or maybe resilient, & ubiquitous. Or, okay, think about it: maybe all of those words actually work! We could think of our lives as just another manifestation of nature. Another version of flowering. So, yes, (see previous post), a tree, a flower, a leaf of grass. We appear out of the muck and mire, and have moments in the sun, the rain, the snow, the long summer days and the chilling days of winter. We only get so much time. And no guarantees. Our run can end at any moment. Calamity & illness dance around us. So yes, every breath counts, every moment is precious. Maybe not worth counting? Just go with the flow? Ride the wave. Take everything in, enjoy the moments as best we can. We are alive. Right. Now. Maybe that's enough? Give it everything we've got. Do our best at all time. Aware. Awake.

Gnarly...

" Gnarly... "

My long-time companion told me yesterday, the "gnarlier you get, the better you look." That's funny.  I think I do have "gnarly" covered: "rough and twisted, especially because of old age or no protection from bad weather..."

Ha! Yes. That's pretty spot on and describes my life up to this point. I find that the longer I live, the more comfortable I am being who I am. I do believe we are here to discover who we really are, maybe discover our original face, as per Buddhism and to "be ourselves" to the maximum. Seems to me to be the most honest, simple, and rewarding way to live.

"If you were to be a tree, what kind of tree would you be?"  Gnarly!