A New Form of Courting...

Sometimes you got to wonder...

OK. Let's say you're a famous NFL Quarterback. You're revered by many. You come from a small town in the South. You have a beautiful wife, a couple daughters. You make big time money flinging a pigskin long distances. You are 40 years old.

So anyway, you're at training camp. You're feeling sort of lonely. You see a young lady who seems kind of appealing. And, well, in order to get her interested in you well, why not, you e-mail her pictures of your penis. Makes sense right?

Must be the new way of "courting." I mean in the old days maybe you buy her a box of chocolates, or a bouquet of flowers, ask her if she wants to go out to dinner. I mean, it's not surprising that you're thinking of fooling around on your wife. Hell, shit happens.

Still there's something a little "forward" about snapping pictures of yourself without any pants on and sending them off to the girl. Kind of presumptuous. You must really think your silly looking little dingy is quite the thing. And maybe if you could look at the pictures objectively you would see that it's really, really, really not.

I mean, you'd see it actually looks freaking ridiculous. Silly. Maybe it would have made a better impression with a little helmet and uniform? I mean, maybe you dress that sucker up a little!?! Maybe then she would have come running like a little deer ready to go a couple quarters with that thing?

Siddhartha!

It was the cover. Black and white. Picture of a Buddha. A stone statue Buddha. A slim volume from another time. A 1957 edition of "Siddhartha," by Hermann Hesse. New Directions paperback $1.25

I grabbed it. Read it over the last two weeks, a little bit each night right before sleep. It reads like a simple fable. Don't know if the simplicity of the style is Hesse's or if it's as a result of the translation (Hilda Rosner 1951).

It's an easy read. But so much happens in such a short time. I found myself re-reading passages frequently. Don't know how I missed this one so many years ago in my serious Zen phase - Gary Snyder, Jack Kerouac, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.

Siddhartha was written in 1922 but wasn't translated into English until 1951. It seems like a seminal novel that must have inspired the West goes East movement for the Beats and others.

It's a book of "wisdom" but as the text tells us wisdom has to be experienced. To speak the words makes them sound foolish. Anyway, the book hit the bullseye for me. Right message. Right time.

Listen to the river. Yes. And last night, in deep sleep, I heard these words from an unknown source... "I have always been here."

Killer Gay Marines!

Since I'm on a political kick...

So yes, as a Green Democrat I'd dismantle our military behemoth. No more wars of choice. No more preemptive wars. Major cuts in the Pentagon's budget. The 2010 budget is $663.8. I'd slash that sucker by at least 10%. Maybe every year for a number of years until it was a much leaner and meaner force. And of course we'd still have the largest military in the world, the largest military ever known to man, a military almost 20 times larger than any other force in the world.

It's a tremendous drain on our country. It explains how we have bankrupted ourselves. It doesn't make us stronger, it weakens us. Instead I'd increase Foreign Aid. More money for the Peace Corps!

And another thing... this "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" thing is total madness. I'd kill it. And well, since some folks are so afraid of Gay People, I'd establish an elite force of Gays for all the Services: Air Force, Navy, Army, Marines. Quentin Tarantino should make a movie about the Killer Gay Marines! Holy Shit! They are hitting the beaches in full force, and they're singing Broadway show tunes to boot!

It Takes a Village to Raise a Billionaire!

Yes, so the Greens, I mean, I don't want to be down on them...

We need the Green Party. Their agenda is my agenda. I just think that in good old U.S.A. that the Greens probably should fold themselves into the Democratic Party. Change that sucker from the inside.

If I had the gumption I'd run for something as a GREEN DEMOCRAT! There is a need for a truly progressive force not afraid to champion the little guy: alternative energy, a progressive tax code, MORE social services, single-payer health care, more money for schools.

SOAK THE RICH! That would be my campaign slogan. Maybe wear a shower cap and wield a big back scrubber. The Rich have been getting a FREE RIDE! They wouldn't be rich if it wasn't for a middle class that can read and write and shop. They wouldn't be rich if we didn't have a government: if we didn't have cops and firemen and a freaking military protecting their interests.

The Rich should be grateful they live in such a great country. They owe it to all of us to give back at least and maybe more than their fair share! It takes a village to raise a Billionaire!

Green Party Quixote

The Telepaths played a short set at the Green Party's party in our neighborhood. We had a new drummer sit in for the show and we have never been better. Plus FREE PIZZA for all! Can't beat that. We rocked out and listened to some speeches. It was all quite good.

I'm mean, I'm totally in line with what the Green Party stands for: more money for schools and social services, a fairer, more progressive tax code, alternative energy.

And yes it's totally scandalous and debilitating to our society that the wealthy are the ones getting a free ride! SOAK THE RICH! Viva la revolution!

Still it was kind of sad. One certainly got the impression that the Greens in this neck of the woods are a distinctly minority party. Kind of like an idealistic hobby. Sort of like collecting stamps. These are the folks out on the beach with their metal detectors looking for trinkets.

Almost can't really bring myself to root for them. It's kind of like rooting for Don Quixote to really beat the shit out of a windmill.

Things

Sometimes a day is going from one thing, to another thing, to another thing, to another thing. Until you run of of things. And then the day is done.

The Dog Biz

Things I've learned in the Dog Biz:

1. Every step counts: a 3rd floor apartment is Mt. Everest.

2. Names matter: a dog named "Happy" will be irredeemably sad. A dog named "Peaches" will be a killer of little things, and won't want to take her medicine. "Gypsy" will be flighty and playful and with thrill at getting rough with squirrels. "Olive," an angry-looking Burmese Mountain Dog, will be afraid of it's shadow. "Homer" will be the doggy reincarnation of that ancient, blind, poet, and he'll really, really hate puppies. "Buddy" will be darkness, he will not be your buddy. He will barely be alive. He will be a character in a Samuel Beckett one-act. "Annabelle" will be a dream dog. She will want to chase sticks all day. You will become expert at throwing sticks. She will be your best friend.

3. You will know the weather better than any weather man. You won't be able to predict the weather, but you will know every ray of sunshine, you will absorb every drop of rain, you will reverberate in every breeze. You will be glad you live in Chicago, where the weather is always mimicking an improv class.

4. Your concept of the value of money will be translated to dogs. A latte will be 2/10ths of a dog. A meal for two at your favorite Indian restaurant (tip included) will be approximately 4 dogs. You will become "dog frugal."

5. You will live with less stress, less money, and more shit. And it will seem like somehow you beat the system.

Nuts!

This political season they've let the nuts out of the can. And it seems the angry nuts out in the heartland are gonna vote for the nuts running for office, and then we'll have lots of nuts in Washington D.C. representing the nuts across the nation. Now that's just a hard nut to swallow!

Addition

Well there's addition by addition.

Then there's addition by subtraction.

And then there's addition by substitution.

"Wow, let's do it again..."

You do an event like the Lennon Bash, and it's smiles all around, and everyone in the neighborhood is buzzing, and you are feeling flush with vibes of success, you are riding a cloud, and then you think, "Wow, let's do it again!"

Not so easy. I mean, Lennon's next big birthday would be in about 30 years, probably won't be around for that one, and if I am, maybe you can just scoop me up in a tin can and put me on stage?

And there's no one else quite in the Lennon spectrum. I mean, there's Neil Young, Bob Dylan, Hank Williams, but each of them is kind of a narrower thing - not as much "consensus" about their impact and value on the culture.

Lennon and the Beatles certainly stand on a unique mountain-top. I mean, my good friend Mr. Mo. suggested a Harry Nillson night. And yes, I get it, I love Harry, he has an incredible catalog of songs. But I just don't think it will have the Lennon-like impact we all just experienced...

The Scene

We have gone from making plays and songs to making scenes. That's kind of cool. This is a quote from one of our band members. An amazing person and fabulous musician, someone who has made great music for many years. He nicely sums up the scene we have lately conjured up...

"The reason is that the philosophy of forming a community of artists is appealing. The crowds that we've been attracting are a testimony to that vibe. In my past experiences, it was about ego and $. This the opposite, where people are welcomed, without judgment, and where $ is not the objective of creating art. It seems simple, but I've never found it before now!"

Unrepeatable...

Up early, my head is still fuzzy from a rollicking good time at our Lennon Bash. Our little storefront was over-stuffed with people last night, the crowd was so large folks spilled out into the street.

It all went pretty much without a hitch. The music flowed, the beer flowed, the good vibes spilled out and enveloped the space. We have definitely created a little scene.

The music was superb. All those great songs reflected through so many different performers. One of those unique events. Unrepeatable... I think John would've liked it!

Lennon Celebration

We're doing our John Lennon celebration at our little storefront space tonight. It's all spruced up and ready to go.

I changed all the lights, it's all greens and blues and reds. No white light.

Kind of a little dreamscape. And the sound system is tweaked, great acoustics. Plus a mirror ball. Lots of performers, lots of songs.

It should be pretty cool...

Dogs & Guitars

My life has been filled up with Dogs and Guitars. That's not a bad thing...

Predictions

Either things are going to get better or they are going to get worse. Or maybe they'll just basically stay the same.

And no matter what happens, we're gonna have to deal with it.

Hopefully with grace...

Lennon Bash

We've been playing Lennon songs in anticipation of our Lennon Bash on Saturday. It's been quite the challenge.

On the one hand, you can't really out-do the man. One of the great rock and roll voices of all time. And the songs are absolutely iconic. It's about what he is saying or not saying and the way he says it.

On the other hand, the songs are so good, you can't really screw them up. And putting them in a new frame actually brings some of them to life. Some of the songs are deceptively simple. And the simplicity actually makes them harder to perform.

Counterintuitive.

Anyway we will be hosting a pretty cool event where the spirit and the words of the man will be channeled through lots of different performers. It's amazing how many people of multiple generations were touched by John's music.

Bad Theater

Standing in the court room. Watching bad theater. All the roles stereotypes. There's the Judge, long-suffering, dignified, swimming in a sea of paper and broken lives.

There are the lawyers. Suited up. Used car salesman. Shuffling papers. Shills for the corporation, or stand-ins for their desperate clients.

There are the "simple people." These are the ones who stand in lines, wait for their turn to be humiliated, the people who suffer, who flee, who ask for mercy.

The words "In God We Trust" in big, blocky, fake gold letters, tacked to the wall just above the big, round-faced clock.

The clock blindly ticks away...

"You don't have to live like a Refugee..." - T. Petty

If you are a REFUGEE what do you do? You FLEE! That's what you do!

The Clock Tick Tock!

Hey, no matter what you believe, and if you believe, more power to you brothers and sisters, you are finally left with - "How do you fill the time in your life?"

Do you fill your time with positive acts or negative acts? Do lean to the light or hide in the dark? Are you a nay-sayer, or a doer? Do you ride with the changes or do you fight tooth and nail against them?

Do you love life, or hate it? Or are you ambivalent about the whole thing? Or are you all things all the time? The freaking clock just keeps ticking...

Neil Young Delivers

I dug deep into my pocket and bought a copy of Neil Young's new record, "Le Noise" on vinyl! It seems so retro, so contrary to prevailing trends to spring for vinyl. A big platter, thicker than a pancake - can only play it in one room.

It just seems so right. It's a really special record and buying the vinyl makes it singular. I have to fire up the old turntable, place the needle in the grooves, flip it over to hear the other side. Ritualistic!

Plus to my ears it sounds super good. There's something about the old technology, more air or space. And it's Neil Young at his best. Certainly a masterpiece. For an excellent review check out the Music Tablet. Yes, Neil delivers! It's a great collaboration with another impressive artist - Daniel Lanois!

Here's Lanois talking about the making of "Le Noise."

Meeting the Pastor

I was sitting in our little storefront speaking with "the Pastor." The "big man," conferring with "the big man." How many big men can fit on the head of a pin?

Now of course, "the Pastor" was a little older and seemingly wiser, closer to God, don't you know? But it was me who was holding court, telling him the way it was, the way it was going to be.

It was like a little scene in a movie. And I was in the movie, and well, shit, it wasn't really a movie at all, it was my life, it was not just entertainment, not just a scene for the audience to cluck over; no, this was my life, one moment that would never be repeated and I was making the most of it.

But even as it was happening, I was wondering why it was happening, how did I get here? Was there some larger meaning? Did all the moments of my existence, previous to this one, lead me to this moment? Was there some blueprint or grand plan that brought me to this time and place?

And then like that, it was over, and I was back on the street. Tending to a dog eat dog world.

Fallback Position!

And then sometimes you just have to ask for mercy!

I Know

I know what it's like to be a Salmon swimming upstream.

I know what it's like to be a little wriggling sperm inching towards the golden orb.

I know what it's like to be a birdie flapping my wings against the wind.

I know what it's like to wrestle with the shadow world.

What Happens?!

So what happens when you no longer believe in organized religion? What happens when you no longer believe in Heaven or Hell? Or the power of a free market? Or State, Local or Federal government? What happens when you no longer believe in "your country?"

What happens when you don't believe in a "Saviour?" What happens when you no longer believe people want to "do the right thing?"

What happens when you no longer trust your banker, or financial advisor? What happens when you no longer look up to rich people (they are just the beneficiaries of a crooked game)? What happens when you no longer envy celebrities? What happens when you no longer believe in "playing by the rules?" Or in "getting ahead?"

What happens if you don't care about "keeping up with the Joneses?"

What happens when you think you're just as smart as the smart ones, and not as dumb as the dumb ones? What happens when you no longer believe there are any smart ones?

What happens when you no longer trust in the safety of the food you eat or in the water you drink? What happens when you believe the air you breathe is poisoned? What happens when you believe that humans are basically "crazy monkeys" who have evolved a highly in-efficient brain that they use to justify the unjustifiable?

What happens?!

Better Angels - Lombardi & Lennon

Lombardi tells me: "When the going gets tough, the tough get going."

And just where are we going?

Johnny tells me: "To the Toppermost of the Poppermost!"

Cognitive Slaves Unite!

Love this from Global Guerillas. All those power users of Facebook and Google are "cognitive slaves." Welcome to the New World Order. And of course our slavery came willingly!

"Let's take Facebook as an example. Currently it's valued at ~$25 billion by the market. However, it could be argued that ~100,000superusers out of 500 million part time users, are the reason that Facebook is valuable. They generate the core network that is the backbone of the tool. Their devoted use, high levels of connectivity, and loyalty forms the engine that grows Facebook, year in and year out. They are the materials, labor, and product of Facebook's assembly line. Yet they aren't paid for their effort. They aren't generating wealth for themselves or their families.

How much wealth? If we awarded 4/5 ths of the value of Facebook (and the same exercise could be done with Google at a couple of million superusers) to its superusers, leaving the tool managers $5 billion in value, each superuser would now be worth $200,000 from their contributions to this tool alone. But they aren't. They haven't earned a penny for their effort. " - John Robb

Maximum Volume...

You know how a record comes out and then there's all the hype and success and then well, hell they even turn it into a Broadway show? And then in retrospect you think "no, it's not that good."

Well "American Idiot" is not that record. I discovered it a few years after it came out (blogged about it here).

The last few days, I've been working at our storefront space sprucing it up, and I have repeatedly been blasting that Green Day opus through our little P.A. system at maximum volume.

The record didn't knock me out the first time I heard it. I actually thought it sounded a little too slick. But you know, over time it has really grown on me, just sounded better and better to my ears. Some kind of masterpiece. I think it captures our dysfunctional empire in decline.

Volume is critical. At ear-splitting volume it really comes alive. And that Billie Joe Armstong is some kind of r&r Messiah. Lennon-esque!

Foiled Again!

And then the little bastards try to throw sand in our eyes. But of course, we wear cheap sunglasses! Foiled again weasels!

Full of It!

When the arguments start to get long and convoluted, when people decide to hide behind obscurities, you know that they are full of it!

A Loser's Hand

Another American President "boxed in" by the military. You start to wonder who those four star guys really work for.

Afghanistan is now Obama's War...

"Mr. Obama’s struggle with the decision comes through in a conversation with SenatorLindsey Graham of South Carolina, who asked if his deadline to begin withdrawal in July 2011 was firm. “I have to say that,” Mr. Obama replied. “I can’t let this be a war without end, and I can’t lose the whole Democratic Party.”

And from this vantage point it's a losing proposition. It's one of those - if you win you lose, if you lose you lose. The main theme is LOSE! Or put another way, you stay you lose, you leave you lose. Might as well cut your losses and leave now. But instead there will be years of dithering in other people's misery. And lots of people who shouldn't die, will die.

Hope dies last, Hope dies hard!

Frog

I suppose Yoga wasn't invented as some kind of torture. A smiley-faced torture.

Yoga isn't just a supposedly well-meaning demonstration of your body's limits, an elaborate, seemingly benevolent show designed to enlighten you to the frailties of your body.

I mean, Yoga can't just be this esoteric practice passed down through the ages, intended to show you that your body is a frog's body. And that you are basically and definitely a frog!

I mean, no, it can't be...

This...

This is when things get interesting...

Conscious Optimism!

And then I my Spiritual Advisor just pops into my consciousness and she delivers the right message at the right time! How is that possible?

My great teacher, Kris Cahill nails it... conscious optimism!

And yes, being conscious can be painful. But then maybe embracing it can somehow kill or transform the pain. And we are left with some kind of mad optimism (I throw my lot in with the MAD ONES!) that can't be snuffed out...

Spike Lee School of Spirit

Someone turned to me for some "spiritual advice" yesterday. I dispensed a few nuggets of wisdom - I carry them with me just in case, and then I bathed in the love of affirmation. Even the little dog who happened to be an accidental observer to the scene, looked up at me with soulful eyes brimming over with love and good vibes.

Now don't feel sorry for the person who looked to me as some kind of spiritual guide. She knew everything she needed to know before she sought my counsel. I was just the sounding board for her own inner monologue. I made the right sounds and suddenly everything seemed clearer.

And what was the essence of the words I spoke? It can all be distilled down to the Spike Lee School of Spiritual Guidance: DO THE RIGHT THING!

Zen in the Middle of a Train Wreck

Finding Zen on a lonely mountain-top seems like a piece of cake. To find Zen in the middle of the train-wreck, now you're talking about something...

If I focus on the "big picture" I see myself, eyes wide shut, curled up on the oriental rug in a fetal position. Better to focus on the "little picture," one step, one meal, one day at a time.

Still, I know the train is hurtling down the track, the track ends, either it falls off a cliff, or backstops into a brick wall. There's no slowing down, there's no engine driver. So I guess, I must do something, so I sit in my seat and look for the Zen... it must be in the moment, it's all I've got...

Materializing in Your Head

You think it's all leading up to something. Like there's been a secret plan all along. You forget the false starts, the dead ends, the mad circles, or you figure they were all just part of the plan too. You think the outline of the thing is materializing in your head. You wonder if you might be hallucinating...

Helicopters

My black helicopters were white. It was kind of a Philip K. Dick-like morning. Yesterday it seems some guy blew his own head off with a pipe-bomb. So the neighborhood was buzzing. We heard the helicopters hovering above our apartment building. I went for a run, and I swear those white helicopters followed me.

Later at the coffee shop everyone was talking about the guy who decapitated himself. He blew himself up near a middle school. A guy walking his dog discovered him. The cops descended. You wonder what the guy was up to? Did he really want to blow himself up or did he have other plans that just kind of went up in smoke?

Bat-Shit Crazy!

We argue about imaginary things. And ignore the bat-shit crazy stuff right in front of our noses!

"I Read the News Today, Oh Boy..." - J. Lennon

Our political discourse seems to be held hostage by idiots. My "Outrage Meter" is over-loaded. I watch my fellow citizens get all riled up by ridiculous inanities and well, I just have to laugh...

When in doubt, I think of Iggy!

What can I say, it's an Iggy and the Stooges morning...

I Just Type...

I'm sipping coffee, listening to Bowie singing, "I demand a better future." Sometimes I just type, I don't really have to think...

The Stupidity!

And even though you think it really couldn't, the stupidity just keeps multiplying!

Clowns Lie Too!

Let's say you are little Lying Weasel, and your lies start unraveling. I mean, what's a Lying Weasel to do?! Well of course, you lie some more! And you get some other clowns to lie for you too.

Still, the countdown to your day of reckoning is coming! The Truth will out! And the Underdog will be vindicated! Yes, indeed! Which again brings me to one of my favorite all time videos...

Barney's Folly!

Our Matthew Barney obsession continues...

We were strangely compelled to see the last two installments of the Crewmaster series from Mr. Barney yesterday. We caught the series out of sequence, so yesterday it was Crewmaster 1 &2.

Love him or hate him, (and it seems there's lots of folks on either side of that equation), Matthew Barney is certainly committed to his unique vision. And he followed through with a series of films unlike anything else I've ever seen.

Crewmaster really does work as a series. It's a compelling vision, it's haunting, beautiful, ridiculous, hermetic, obsessive, etc. What I love about it - it's totally open-ended, with no commercial value, a useless (?!?) artistic confection - that leaves you to puzzle out your own meanings.

I came away totally clear. Sort of like washing someone else's dreams or hallucinations through your own nervous system. It was kind of exhilarating. The art world has sort of embraced Matthew Barney, the movie critics (at least the local Chicago ones) pretty much dismiss him.

We are in the embracing camp!

Iggy and the Stooges Live!

If you have always been a fan of Iggy Pop, and if you've read the biography about him, "Open Up and Bleed," you know that his life has been one of achievement and defeat, of improbable survival and unbelievable self-destruction, of horrific tragedy and ridiculous comedy, of hardcore discipline and over the top debauch, of pure good luck and absolute bad luck, of madness and clarity, of inspired rock and roll and misguided dreck.

Finally it's clear that Iggy has always been more than a force of nature. At 63 he is finally recognized as essential to the rock and roll canon. If you've read the book, you also know that he and James Williamson, the dark star guitarist, crashed and burned long ago.

So it's amazing and gratifying to read that they re-united, and that they played a raucous and deliriously received show in N.J.

Iggy's saga continues and it always amazes...

Oddly Twisted Stuff

We went to the movies yesterday. Saw a couple films from Matthew Barney's Crewmaster Cycle.

Well what can I say? Pretty sure you haven't seen anything like it. Very strange, beautiful, hermetic, disturbing, ridiculous, infuriating, inspiring, thrilling, boring, awe-inspiring, stupid, silly, icky...

Kind of repelling and addictive too. There were times the coffee didn't help and I started to drift off. No dialogue, long shots, weird music, oddly twisted stuff...

I guess you could say we loved it, although not sure. Yeah, I guess let's say we loved it. We talked about it for hours afterwards, and we are still puzzling this morning over what we'd seen and what it all added up to. Now that's some kind of achievement.

R&R Svengali

I was never really a fan of the Runaways. But we watched the movie last night and really enjoyed it. A sort of r&r cliche come to life. But the story is told with style. I thought the movie was filmed quite beautifully.

But what really made it for me was Michael Shannon's portrayal of that serious eccentric and r&r Svengali, Kim Fowley. I know Michael from his work in the theater community here in Chicago, I saw him in some amazing shows in a little black box theater on Wells St.

Also there's a great scene featuring Iggy Pop's "I Wanna Be Your Dog." A perfect melding of music and image.

Lennon Bash

Yes, October is gonna be really cool. We will be hosting a John Lennon night. It would have been his 70th birthday on 10/9/10. Kind of mind-blowing...

A night of Lennon songs. Lots of performers doing Lennon stuff. He touched so many people across generations. I've been listening to lots of Lennon lately from his Beatles' days to his solo years. So much great music. One of the great r&r voices.

He was the angry one, the rocker, the weird one, the leader of the pack, the prophet of peace, the working class hero, the lost one, the bitingly funny one, the brilliant one, the naked one, the longhair, the junkie, the tripped-out one, the mad-head-over-heels-one, the one who always wore his heart on his sleeve, the primal screamer, the drunk one, the enlightening one, the inspirer, the dreamer.

I'm thinking of doing "God" and "Come Together," but then there's others I'd like to do too... "Rain," "A Day in the Life," "I'm Only Sleeping." Some seem impossible, how do you do justice to the man?!

Lennon is one of my personal touchstones...

Run!

When in doubt... run!

Shoes

Shoes. Got lots of shoes. Every day is a shoe decision day. Got running shoes. Got dress shoes. Got boots. Got new shoes, old shoes, really sad, old and beat-up shoes.

So, first have to decide what kind of shoe today, and then must live in my shoes for the day.

And then here's the trick. Must live in the world with other people. And must be able to imagine what it would be like to be in their shoes. An empathetic existence. Without losing ourselves to the other.

Sometimes it's easy to imagine and sometimes it's hard. And of course, the world is even more interesting and complicated than our imaginations. So we bump up against real shoes and imaginary shoes. And we do our best to navigate through the world of shoes.

And then finally, after all the sound and fury, we walk alone...

Light

Light, I do believe in the light...

Plane Crashes

"Art is one place where we can walk away from our plane crashes." - Brian Eno

The Age of Mammon

We was robbed!

Lost and Lonely

The Telepaths played last night. A cozy, neighborhood bar. We cranked up the amps and blasted our sound through the place.

One of our friends called it "psychedelic garage," which sounds good to me.

Is it just me, or is the bar scene a lost and lonely world filled with broken and sad people pretending to be really, really happy?

I don't know. We just rocked out and forgot about everything but the noise!

The Pulse of the Moment!

We saw Mary Archies' production of "Cherrywood," last night. One of the great plays, perfectly realized. That's my take. It is very of the "now."

A stage full of actors (nearly 50) at a party out of control. At first, I sort of cringed when I heard it was 90 minutes long, but for me it went by in a heartbeat.

Great lines of dialogue, cryptic and prophetic. Great music and lots of amazing performances from a large cross section of the Chicago acting community.

I checked out some reviews this morning and I think lots of people missed the brilliance of this work. Maybe the best overview is Monica Westin's take in the Huffington Post. Although some of what she says seems absurd to me and a lot of what she says I don't agree with either. Why did it take her two viewings to "get it?"

This one hit the bulls-eye for me on the get go. A house full of people at a party out of bounds. Pop culture claptrap and apocalyptic rants about a world unmoored from any roots. A generation at sea in the murk of everything/all the time. Mary Archie is enjoying one of their most successful runs ever. 7 weeks or more of sold out shows.

They have hit a nerve. It's the pulse of the moment! Tonight is closing night. It's sold out!

Trouble in River City!

I still read the newspaper, still listen to NPR.

So the world of human affairs still intrudes on my consciousness. I suppose listening to the chatter is part of what being aware of the world means.

So, it's clear there's "trouble in River City! Trouble with a capital T..."

There's trouble in every corner, in every sector. We are breathing trouble...

Pre-Judging Pre-judging

Yes, we all have prejudices. And we must fight them!

Some prejudices are easy to debunk, based on irrationality. But sometimes prejudices are based on real-life experiences. Those types of prejudices are probably even more insidious.

We can make "pre-judgements" based on totally irrational ideas or totally rational facts. Sometimes we "pre-judge" for what we think are good reasons, for instance some concept of survival...

Still prejudice is wrong: morally and literally, and/or practically. To pre-judge a whole people based on some thing is so unimaginative!

Human beings are more than a particular group, race, religion, etc. To lump them into a category is anti-human. Not good for an individual or a society...

Hard-Boiled

Hard-Boiled.

Yes.

That's right.

Water Closed Today

After a weekend of sound and fury, the Lovely Carla and I spent most of Monday in the world of mundane chores and basic house-keeping responsibilities.

Kind of a come-down from our main-stage heroics...

We also spent some quiet time out on the lakefront. Kind of nursing a "people hangover." We watched the waves crashing into the little man-made beach, watched the seagulls flapping around in the blue sky.

We could almost pretend we were in Laguna Beach. Except we were on a bench facing east as the sun went down behind us. Lots of waves yesterday... the sign at the beach said, "Water Closed Today!"

Abbie Fest 2010 - Day Three

Back to being audience for day three. We saw lots of good stuff. Our friend Jason sang about the adventures of Lobster Boy on his ukulele in the afternoon.

And then in the evening it was the awe-inspiring "Jimmy Gamble" (which I blogged about last year) and Citizen's Relief superb take of Harold Pinter's "Ashes to Ashes."

In between there was lots of laughter and sound and fury. It was sort of overwhelming. Kind of like letting big waves just rush over you again and again.

A day later, and we were still basking in the glow of a very successful performance on Saturday. Lots of folks came up to us to say they enjoyed our show. It was all very satisfying.

What a great event. Rich Cotovsky and the Mary Archies are just so supportive and generous and vital to the Chicago theater scene.

I'm still buzzing this morning. Now I'm expecting the post-Abbie emptiness to descend. It's kind of inevitable and probably necessary...

Abbie Fest 2010 - Day Two

We spent lots of time at the little black box theater yesterday. Saw some really great performances from the Mary Archie players, Famous in the Future and the Plagiarists. I mean, stunningly good shows. The vibe of the weekend has been totally electric. It's hard to convey how impressive it has all been. You really had to be there.

We got our chance to take the stage and we felt good about how it went. Our friend Mr. Mo. dubbed our approach "rock and roll theater" and I think that fits. We played to a very responsive and attentive audience, pretty much a full house, which, considering our afternoon time slot, was quite impressive.

No matter how many people are there you must always give it your all. Still if the audience is with you it can propel you into another stratosphere. We were propelled into the higher reaches and it was totally exhilarating.

We will be back there later today ready to give back the love we felt after our show. The Abbie Fest is one of those completely unique worlds where love and creativity and laughter and drama fill you up! And it's good!

Abbie Fest 2010: Day One

We played the part of audience last night for the opening of the Abbie Hoffman Died For Your Sins Fest. It was a packed house and a rollicking good time.

We were inspired and humbled by all the great acting, and all the good vibes of the evening. The small space was absolutely electric.

It's so great to see actors of all ages getting up and giving it their all. Every year there is a profound energy of cooperation and mutual respect for the "good work."

There is something totally unique about live theater in a tiny space; about watching someone get up from the audience, getting on stage and just nailing it. No bullshit. Just bringing it. So vital, so refreshing, so inspiring.

The schedule is chock full of great shows today. Plus we get our chance to get up there too. Should be a trip!

Doing it Again!

The Abbie Hoffman Died for Your Sins Fest (check out this Chicago Magazine piece for a primer) kicks off tonight at 7:00 p.m. And then it rolls along for the rest of the weekend. Lots of theater, and for sure some wild-ass acts. It's always a carnival of human ingenuity!

Black Forest will be doing it's thing on Saturday. We're almost ready! Still rehearsing our mad little adventure. It's a totally schizophrenic piece. It seems very of the moment. At least the moment as I'm experiencing it.

I wonder if any one else out there will track with it? We will see...

"The Man Sitting Next to Me, His Head Was Exploding..."

Yesterday I ended up in a conversation with a major Dylanologist. It was so cool to meet a kindred soul.

Someone who has listened to the records, gone to the concerts, bought the DVDs, read the interviews and books.

We kind of inspired each other talking about the songs and albums that Dylan the man, Dylan the myth, has conjured for us. We talked about that voice, and the man's wild ass working methods.

The two of us talked the same language. It was like discovering that someone else could speak this cryptic, secret language that you thought didn't really exist, except in your own head.

Sympathy for the Dumb Guy

I live in the Heartland, and I actually voted for Blago. I thought he was a dumb but honest guy. I got the dumb part right. So anyway, Blago has become this big joke. The Feds wire-tapped him and caught him on tape saying really ridiculous things. It's clear Blago really, really wanted to be corrupt. He wanted to be corrupt so badly.

But at the same time, his dumbness kind of overwhelmed his corruptness. Or his dumbness made all his hair-brained schemes go up in smoke. He talked a lot and it seems most people just ignored him.

Anyway he went on trial and his brilliant and clownish lawyer argued that his client was an idiot. And well, I guess his lawyer told the truth and some of the jury went along. And it looks like the idiot basically skated.

And I think our political system is such a corrupt, money sucking machine anyway, that being corrupt does not dis-qualify you from the job, no it actually qualifies you quite nicely. And most folks figure "everyone's doing it anyway." Some get caught. Most just skate.

And maybe there was some sympathy for the dumb guy. I mean he did end up losing his job. Which supposedly he hated anyway. So maybe everyone wins? Except the people who think their government is working for them. Those people might want a re-think!

Politics: The Idiot's Version!

I don't watch cable news. I think I'd rather drive nails through my head. Probably more enlightening too.

So I missed out on all the "outrage" about the "GROUND ZERO MOSQUE!"

Turns out it isn't really at Ground Zero, and it isn't really a Mosque... Still there's all that freaking, sputtering outrage...

Idiots!

Mirror or Projector?

You wonder if you are just mirroring the world around you. Or whether you are projecting your internal condition upon the world.

And how would you know for sure?

So when things seems to be spinning out of control, when it seems no one has a clue, when it appears that most people are living under false assumptions, or when you conclude that the people with any kind of power are deluded or malevolent, when it seems like human beings have kind of run out the string of this little planet and are in deep denial about the results of all their "needing, wanting and grasping," are you just a sensitive and observant human being seeing the world as it is, or are you a self-obsessed human being, seeing only your own reflection in everything around you?

Hard to know for sure, huh?

Dogstar Chronicles

We ran through our little performance piece, "The Dogstar Rages," a couple times yesterday. It's tightening up. We are working through the kinks.

End of the evening: tired, hot, wondering what it all adds up to...

It's kind of a jumble of ideas.

But I guess for me, it's about how we humans have kind of run out the string, we've pushed the environment to the brink, our existence teeters on a cliff.

And all we have is each other... and a glimmer of hope.

Creator of Train Wrecks!

Someone asked me how our rehearsals for our piece The Dogstar Rages was going. I said, "kind of train-wrecky."

Which was sort of true, and sort of not. I mean, everything is going fine. We are learning our lines and our movements, refining and ironing out difficulties. Cutting some stuff that isn't quite working - rearranging other stuff. All the normal part of the process. No worries.

But in a way my reply got me thinking that I actually delight in creating "train-wrecks." That's really sort of the approach I have taken - putting a bunch of ideas and elements into a piece, a space, and then having them sort of collide and see what happens...

I am Creator of Train Wrecks!

It isn't the stuff

It's just stuff. You can't be attached to just stuff. It comes and goes. It doesn't make you a better person. Or cooler.

There are other things that determine your "goodness" and your "coolness."

It isn't the stuff...

Big and Little Picture

Looking at the "big picture" is probably a "mug's game." The human thing is just such a weird job...

I guess if you go planetary, look at the universe as gases and rocks and energy, well then everything is fine.

If you go molecular, sub-atomic, it gets strange. There are odd forces beyond our control. But hell that's fine too.

So then you are left with your own human destiny. Some things seems to be in your control and lots of things don't. Maybe what we think we can control is illusory. Or maybe not.

Still there are some things I can choose: What will I have for lunch? Can I breathe through my left nostril? Will I write a new song today? Will I listen to the Dead Weather on my iPod? Can I make today a happy adventure?

Still you wonder if you are really choosing or has some invisible hand or some mystic force intervened?

Panic in the Sheets

A guy I know, (I'm not talking about myself in the 3rd person), is panicking. He's going through a major life crisis. He recently retired, he broke up with his girlfriend, his parents are long dead, his best friend lives in New Jersey, his brother lives in California and they haven't spoken in a long time.

This guy can't sleep, he lays down, closes his eyes, lays in bed for an hour or two, and then bolts out of bed feeling claustrophobic. He spends long nights on the lakefront, sitting on the beach, in the darkness. He spends his days on his bicycle. Riding up and down the lakefront, not really going anywhere.

He sees me once in awhile, as I'm navigating around the neighborhood. He comes to me and unburdens himself. Tells me about his crisis. I say things like "that's terrible," "it will pass," "you need to find a focus," "things will get better," "maybe you should try meditating," etc.

I don't think he really listens to me. Maybe he just likes to watch my lips move. Maybe he just wants to borrow my ear. He tells me he's actually thinking of "medicating," not "meditating." He mentions Xanax and Ambien. I don't say anything to that. I mean, hell, what do I know about medication? While he's talking, I flash on Michael Jackson and Elvis Presley... it all worked out for them I guess.

I guess I can understand the panic. Maybe it's warranted: Moscow is in flames, Pakistan is flooding, USA is in depression. We all are getting older, and every one of us will die. The planet is being consumed by a ravenous human horde...

Still the PANIC THING seems so cliche. I think I'll go to a quiet space and meditate on what I'm gonna have for dinner...

Castle of Insecurities!

We don't really know ourselves or the world. But we surmise, based upon our experiences - we do this whether our experiences are relevant or not.

I mean what happens to us may just happen, and maybe what happens has nothing to do with us and our world.

Then again, maybe experience is all we have and all we are, and adds up to what we call "world."

So then we have our insecurities, and then we surmise that the world is some elaborate Rube-Goldberg-like-construction of insecurities (our's and other's) piled on top of each other.

And maybe you can't really run from, or deny, your insecurities. And maybe your insecurities are insecurities for a good reason.

So really then you must find some sort of security in your castle of insecurities...

And that's what we call a "happy existence!"

Sharper Knives!

You must beware the "subtle dick-wad," the smiling "friend," who has perfected the silent kill; the one who wields the polite, cutting comments meant to destroy you.

This is the one who is most dangerous to your well-being. The one who comes on all hale and hearty and oh so friendly.

You won't figure them out, you can't explain why they want to destroy you. There's just something about you that feeds their desire. Your every success cuts them to the quick.

You can't show any weakness or hurt. You must protect yourself...

It's a lesson and a laugh! You need "sharper knives...!"

Waring Blender Theater

Every time I work on a theatrical-type piece I start seeing connections everywhere. Maybe there's something about concentrating really intensely on one thing, that then expands out into the larger world?

I'm always mixing philosophical musings with Pop Cultural clap-track and seeing what happens.

It's a strange modus operandi, but one that comes naturally to me. This time around my collaborator, The Lovely Carla, is bringing not only her incredible stage presence, but she's bringing a monologue and a "prayer" that will be a big part of the whole thing.

So her offerings go into the Waring Blender of creation too. Add in my latest obsession with Iggy Pop and the music of Queen, along with a smidgen of Beckett-esque dialogue, and top of the head, stream of consciousness rants and you have 25 mins of Black Forest.

So now, I'm in the mode of everywhere I look, there's Iggy, there's Queen, and lines from the piece seem to resonate everywhere I walk. Strange.

My Kind of Heathen!

Sipping coffee this morning and listening to David Bowie's "Heathen." It is quite good. I recently bought it at my local 2nd Hand Tunes. $2.99 for a used cd. What a steal!

I mean, I know I'm a little behind the curve, hell this was released in 2002, but I finally caught up. Bowie has been around so long, he's done so much good work, it's easy to take him for granted.

This is certainly one of Bowie's best discs. He doesn't need any endorsement from me but I'm always amazed by his great voice, his ever-evolving creativity and his superb sound. On "Heathen" he teams up with one of his great collaborators, Tony Visconti.

These guys know their stuff!

Loud & Soft

Working on the soundtrack for our upcoming theatrical extravaganza. We will have live and pre-recorded stuff. Right now I've got cuts from Rage Against the Machine, Queen, Toots and the Maytals and Sigur Ros. Lots of loud and soft...

Back At Ya!

Take that Weasels!

Magic Oil

And now my government is telling me that most of that oil bleeding into the gulf just magically disappeared! What an amazing, wonderful universe we live in! Who knows, maybe we just needed to oil up the gulf a little bit?!

Yoga Wheel

Monday night comes around.

I sort of dread Yoga.

Then I Yoga.

After Yoga, I'm happy I Yoga-ed!

"The Dogstar Rages"

Our new theater piece, which we will debut at the Abbie Fest in a few weeks, is called "The Dog Star Rages." What is it about? It's about 20 mins.

It's very much of the moment. In fact, my method was to write off the top of my head, with little or no re-writes - to try to capture a very stream-of-conscious, hyper-spontaneous, eruption of the now.

It's scattershot and schizophrenic - which I think kind of reflects the world (or maybe it's just me?!?) at the moment. Yesterday we blasted through lines: cracked ourselves up and cleansed our brains repeating odd, fractured, and silly lines.

I think it's gonna be something!

Tour Diary: Any time, Any place...

I love being able to strap my acoustic guitar to my back, getting on a train with the Lovely Carla and navigating the street-scape to a show. The Elbo Room is all glittery neon; lots of loud, throbbing music greets you at the front door.

We were the musical act in the Upstairs Lounge last night. They've kind of re-arranged things, and now there's actually a little stage - two mics, a plug-in for my acoustic guitar. A classic "low schlepp" gig.

Attendance was sparse. A couple tables of strangers. Which is something we actually hoped for - trying to expand the circle. We gave it our all - we sounded pretty good. We had a few glitches, mainly because I broke two strings. Not sure what's up, either I'm just hitting harder, or maybe the humidity is a factor. I'm thinking of going to heavier gauge strings.

Plus the bands playing downstairs were really loud. Lots of sound bleeding into our intimate space. Made it hard to do the quieter stuff. Still we gave it our best and felt good about our performance. Play anytime, any place - and rock. That's the drill!