All posts by Joseph

Usual Rubbish

Dream off.

2000 Years to Christmas

Turn it to the “golden oldies” station. Yeah, that’s the one. Okay … maybe a little Bob Seeger will wash it away. Hmmm. Turn it up a little. Little more. Oh, god – that’s enough! TURN IT OFF, THE RADIO!

Cheese and crackers, what a night! Now I know you’re used to that being a positive expression when it is issued from the lips of a rock musician, but that’s not the kind of night I’m talking about here, folks. This is one I slept through, for the most part. I was dreaming like a madman, and I heard music in one of my dreams that stayed with me after I woke up. It’s like someone planted an earworm in me while I was sleeping, and I can’t freaking shake it. (Well, I did shake it, literally, but that didn’t help.)

And yes, I know many great songwriters and classical composers harvested some of their best themes from dream music. Again, I am going to back over another popular preconception about musicians. Yeah, I hear music in my dreams, and sometimes it sticks with me when I wake up. But with me, it’s almost always lousy as hell. Whoever does the incidental music score for my dreams is a freaking hack. For crying out loud – everything in my life is the low-rent version of something decent. Some people have sophisticated androids. I have Marvin (my personal robot assistant), who’s little more than a hopped up samovar crossed with a hot water heater. Some people have tony mansions. I live in an abandoned hammer mill with a bunch of lunatics. Poor little motherfucking me.

There, see? There is a resemblance!

Okay, I feel better now. Got to get these things out of your system, you know. Now if I could only get this dumb-ass dream music out of my head. It’s a plunky little number in 10/4 time that goes absolutely nowhere, so it loops easily, and it goes round and round. And round. I’ve tried going to the supermarket and wheeling around an empty cart while listening to piped in music, but that was unsuccessful. Next, I think I’ll cue up all of the Nixon Android songs from Ned Trek, our other podcast. I think there’s about a dozen of them. Listening to an audio animatronic Nixon sing about his misfortunes in 12 different ways should be an ideal method for burning this plague out of my brain. NOTHING can survive Nixon.

Which reminds me … what the hell happened to our fourth album? We were going to build it out of selections from our Ned Trek catalogue, but thus far, no potato. Maybe that little earworm is trying to tell me to get my lazy ass moving. Jesus. Why not send a telegram, for chrissake?

Political Rants

Richer and poorer.

This was a week when the Senate saw fit to go home for a long weekend while enhanced jobless benefits expired along with a ban on evictions for federally supported renters. It was also a week when the richest dude on the planet, along with the heads of other monopolistic tech firms, testified in front of a House subcommittee. I realize the focus of this hearing was antitrust, and that is a more-than-worthy enterprise, but I had hoped for at least one exchange that would go something like this:

Congressmember: Mr. Bezos, how much money do you have?
Bezos: What time is it? 11:25 a.m.? Uhhhh … $153 billion.
Congressmember: Don’t you think that’s too much?
Bezos: Excuse me?
Congressmember: Nobody needs anywhere near that much money, Mr. Bezos. Why don’t you leave more of it on the table? Why does so much of it end up with you? That seems like a really strong sign that something’s drastically wrong with the way you run your business. What you need is stronger workplace regulation and confiscatory taxation. I yield back my time.

Yeah, that didn’t happen. Not surprised.

For the Senate’s part, they appear to have rediscovered their concern about deficits, perhaps because they’re anticipating a loss in the upcoming election. Best restart the national debt scare talk now so it doesn’t seem as contrived in January. Still, it kind of amazes me that at a time when we have more people out of a job than we did at the height of the Great Depression – and we got there in a matter of weeks – Mitch and the boys are getting cold feet about spending federal dollars to pump the tires up a bit. Expect this to return to an obsession level policy if there’s a Biden administration next January, and expect plenty of the never Trumpers to be right on board.

It’s not surprising that the Senate Republicans (and most of the Democrats) act in the best interests of their constituents – rich people. There was a time, though, when they tried a little harder to conceal it. Maybe they think it doesn’t have an electoral impact. Maybe with the extremist gerrymandering they accomplished in 2010 and all the voter suppression laws they’ve put in place since article five of the Voting Rights Act was struck down – maybe with all that, they feel they can still pull it out. Well, maybe they’re right, but we’ll see. I kind of think their tactics are optimized for an economic circumstance that’s significantly less toxic than the current state of affairs. Many of the top-tier Democrats still act like it’s the 1990s; I think this is true of the Republicans as well. It’s just possible that their callous disregard for the voting public may well bite them on the ass … hard.

There haven’t been this many people down and out since the 1930s. And the people who aren’t feeling it now will feel it soon enough. That simple fact makes the politics of this moment very unpredictable.

luv u,

jp

Check out our political opinion podcast, Strange Sound.
Usual Rubbish

Broken windows.

2000 Years to Christmas

That putty’s too dry. You can’t do anything with it now. What’d you do, leave it out in the sun? Well, that’s your problem right there. Sun, hot. Sun HOT.

Oh, hi. Just another summer’s day here at the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill in upstate New York, Big Green’s longtime adopted home (squat house). Truth be known, we don’t always squat here – sometimes we stand bolt upright. I know that breaks with protocol for squat houses, but hell … we’ve got a lot of head room in this mill. Those old nineteenth century hammer-meisters must have been pretty tall; either that or they all worked on horseback. (I seem to remember one promoter we had once who wanted us to play our music on horseback. He also wanted me to change my name to Tex Piadro. Don’t remember why we let him go, but …. we let him go.)

Well, as anyone who has ever lived in an old apartment building knows, when it comes to structural flaws or things that leak, you’re basically on your own. If you’re a legit renter, you can call your landlord, and s/he will send a) a friend who owes some money, b) a brother in law who purports to be a handyman, or c) his or her own ass with a monkey wrench and a prayer. Our situation is different, of course – being squatters, we have no one to complain to when the place is falling apart around us. But the upside of that is, no useless hacks hammering away at some home maintenance problem they haven’t got a clue about addressing. As squatters, we become the useless hacks. That’s called self-reliance, kids. Look it up.

They obviously need some work. (The windows, that is.)

There’s a lot wrong with this hammer mill. Not for nothing did they abandon it. You would have thought they’d convert it into some kind of multi-vendor consignment mall or indoor craft fair, like they typically do with old mills up here, but frankly the place is just in too rough a shape. (I think it’s more of a rough hexagon than anything else.) We’re trying to do something about the leaky windows, as that’s the most annoying problem right now. Marvin (my personal robot assistant) has been called into service as a wind-break and rain shield. Basically, we told him to hold up a stretched out garbage bag in front of the window and … well, just keep holding it.

Then Mitch Macaphee, our mad science advisor, started getting busy with the window putty. Don’t know where he found the stuff, but I for one have never seen putty that glows in the dark before. When I asked Mitch about that, he just gave a dry little cackle and kept working. Fair enough.