Soul Asylum - Made To Be Broken (1986)
"It is conventional to call 'monster' any blending of dissonant elements. I call 'monster' every original inexhaustible beauty."
- Alfred Jarry, L’Ymagier (1894)
(Note: This, too, is a textual repost with new music, the original music post now being but a memory, at the request of the artist).
May 11, 2007
A Night Of Passionate Pumpkin Love Trumps Death
Sonny Sharrock - Guitar (1986)
Sonia crawled out of the jack-o-lantern's mouth, gripping the giant carven teeth to gain the leverage she needed. It had been a wonderful adventure overall, she thought, smiling to herself, knocking off bits of hardened wax, seeds the size of her hand and stringing pumpkin guts. Yes, there, the raygun lay just where she'd left it. A minute more and she'd be her proper size again. No problems with buttons too big to push - she'd read all the stories. She pulled the remote control from her pocket but hesitated just a moment too long, looking up to see just what had made the huge winged shadow...
(Note: This is a textual repost with new music, the original music post now being but a memory, at the request of the artist).
Sonia crawled out of the jack-o-lantern's mouth, gripping the giant carven teeth to gain the leverage she needed. It had been a wonderful adventure overall, she thought, smiling to herself, knocking off bits of hardened wax, seeds the size of her hand and stringing pumpkin guts. Yes, there, the raygun lay just where she'd left it. A minute more and she'd be her proper size again. No problems with buttons too big to push - she'd read all the stories. She pulled the remote control from her pocket but hesitated just a moment too long, looking up to see just what had made the huge winged shadow...
(Note: This is a textual repost with new music, the original music post now being but a memory, at the request of the artist).
May 9, 2007
It Was A Voice That Spoke In Many Ways
Throwing Muses - Throwing Muses (1986)
"When you have shot and killed a man you have in some measure clarified your attitude toward him. You have given a definite answer to a definite problem. For better or worse you have acted decisively.
In a way, the next move is up to him."
- R. A. Lafferty, "Golden Gate" (1982)
"When you have shot and killed a man you have in some measure clarified your attitude toward him. You have given a definite answer to a definite problem. For better or worse you have acted decisively.
In a way, the next move is up to him."
- R. A. Lafferty, "Golden Gate" (1982)
He Should Have, But He Didn't, So It Happened
John Lurie - Stranger Than Paradise & The Resurrection of Albert Ayler (1985)
Eddie picked at the scab and kept picking at the scab, which is never a good idea, nor very sanitary, under the best of conditions. But this scab was larger than the average scab, oh, maybe three feet in length, and ran like a zipper across his torso from his left nipple diagonally over his belly button (an outie, of course) and over to his right thigh. With a final flick, he removed the last of the scar tissue. A moment later, the proud flesh of his ungainly and unsightly wound burst apart due to internal pressure and Eddie died an agonizing and stupid death. The end.
Eddie picked at the scab and kept picking at the scab, which is never a good idea, nor very sanitary, under the best of conditions. But this scab was larger than the average scab, oh, maybe three feet in length, and ran like a zipper across his torso from his left nipple diagonally over his belly button (an outie, of course) and over to his right thigh. With a final flick, he removed the last of the scar tissue. A moment later, the proud flesh of his ungainly and unsightly wound burst apart due to internal pressure and Eddie died an agonizing and stupid death. The end.
Playing Peek-A-Boo With Far Away Eyes
Nels Cline Trio - Silencer (1992)
For seven billion years the little star had quietly and efficiently (it prided itself on its efficiency) burned its hydrogen and lit up its little corner of the universe. Then, one day, it felt a tickling sensation, an irritation, an unpleasant feeling of being watched. Not sure from where this new feeling originated but not liking it in the least, the little star quietly folded space and time around itself, making it appear to vanish utterly.
Back on Earth, some astronomers and physicists were astounded. And some strongly religious folk were moved to kill themselves (and a few billion non-believers).
Eventually, the star came back out, decided the annoying presence was gone, and resumed its sweet hydrogen burn.
For seven billion years the little star had quietly and efficiently (it prided itself on its efficiency) burned its hydrogen and lit up its little corner of the universe. Then, one day, it felt a tickling sensation, an irritation, an unpleasant feeling of being watched. Not sure from where this new feeling originated but not liking it in the least, the little star quietly folded space and time around itself, making it appear to vanish utterly.
Back on Earth, some astronomers and physicists were astounded. And some strongly religious folk were moved to kill themselves (and a few billion non-believers).
Eventually, the star came back out, decided the annoying presence was gone, and resumed its sweet hydrogen burn.
May 6, 2007
It's Only One Man's Fantasy
Coffee Sergeants - Moonlight Towers (1993)
The President put pen to the last official statement of his elected tenure and turned to the vast bulletproof windows of the newly remodeled Oval Office, the better to appreciate the long line of gallows that stretched across the green White House lawn and disappeared into the distance, to end at the steps of the Capitol Building. Even now the hooded and bewildered members of Congress were shuffling up the rough wooden steps, crying out in anger and fear. Nine black robed figures already swayed in the cold January wind.
The President put pen to the last official statement of his elected tenure and turned to the vast bulletproof windows of the newly remodeled Oval Office, the better to appreciate the long line of gallows that stretched across the green White House lawn and disappeared into the distance, to end at the steps of the Capitol Building. Even now the hooded and bewildered members of Congress were shuffling up the rough wooden steps, crying out in anger and fear. Nine black robed figures already swayed in the cold January wind.
But Who's Gonna Be General Grant?
The Feelies - Only Life (1988)
The vast space armada left Mars orbit right on schedule, blasting through the rebel bases in the Asteroid Belt, obliterating all life, whipping around ringed Saturn to the colonies of the Jovian moons on a non-stop flight of total destruction. Though slightly misinformed, the Martians took their Civil War re-enactments very seriously indeed.
The vast space armada left Mars orbit right on schedule, blasting through the rebel bases in the Asteroid Belt, obliterating all life, whipping around ringed Saturn to the colonies of the Jovian moons on a non-stop flight of total destruction. Though slightly misinformed, the Martians took their Civil War re-enactments very seriously indeed.
It Comes In A Tin And Sits On The Shelf
William S. Burroughs - Uncommon Quotes (1988)
As a little boy, Bertrand never cried. When his father was decapitated by angry postal clerks in the E-Stamp Act Riots of '07, he didn't cry. When his mother sold him to Scottish slavers and condemned him to a life of indentured servitude in the New New Hebrides (formerly the Swiss Alps), he didn't cry. Even when the only woman he ever loved disappeared from his life forever (as the soap opera she starred in was cancelled), he didn't cry. But when the European Liberation Organization (ELO) slaughtered his cruel Scottish masters, freeing Bertrand and the thousands of others like him working in their haggis factories, he cried. He cried for seven weeks straight. His clothes were perpetually damp. His bedding was soaked. His body was wrinkled and moldy from the tears. When asked why he was crying, Betrand could only reply "Who's gonna make the haggis now? Who's gonna make it?"
As a little boy, Bertrand never cried. When his father was decapitated by angry postal clerks in the E-Stamp Act Riots of '07, he didn't cry. When his mother sold him to Scottish slavers and condemned him to a life of indentured servitude in the New New Hebrides (formerly the Swiss Alps), he didn't cry. Even when the only woman he ever loved disappeared from his life forever (as the soap opera she starred in was cancelled), he didn't cry. But when the European Liberation Organization (ELO) slaughtered his cruel Scottish masters, freeing Bertrand and the thousands of others like him working in their haggis factories, he cried. He cried for seven weeks straight. His clothes were perpetually damp. His bedding was soaked. His body was wrinkled and moldy from the tears. When asked why he was crying, Betrand could only reply "Who's gonna make the haggis now? Who's gonna make it?"
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