a weakness for weakness

This was in the haunted house at the sorority row trick-or-treat last night. Kids threw hackey-sacks and knocked out the pumpkin's teeth and a guy in a purple genie costume/burkha crouched behind there set them upright as they fell. Not sure why the guy behind the pumpkin needed to be dressed up, since you couldn't see him when the teeth fell out. Maybe he just took to the veil.

Brian Eno, Small Craft on a Milk Sea (via NPR)
Moebius & Plank, EnRoute (Via ROOT BLOG)
The Foot Fist Way
David Foster Wallace, "The Boy" (previously unpublished, via this tumblr)
Boyd Rice and Friends, Music, Martinis, and Misanthropy
Nurse With Wound, Drunk Old Man of the Mountains


Media announcement (inna Twitta stylee): Ramsey Lewis, Emily West, Webb Wilder, So. Culture on the Skids in BR ths wk + Voodoo/Blackpot info @225BatonRouge http://bit.ly/9p1Vqn

I finally watched The Foot Fist Way last night and now everything I read, I read it as Tae-Kwon-Do instructor Fred Simmons. Like I was looking at IMDB comments and even "Was the above review useful to you?" read in his voice with that stare is perfect. More movies like this, please, and less movies that are like all those other movies. Which are shit.


An extra: I Help People Who Do Drugs from Fred Simmons and Craig Robin

I could never figure out Boyd Rice. Some claim he's a Nazi but I've seen him more as one of those brutal art types that deals in a more open sort of misanthropy. An Aleister Crowley nerd. He was one of those characters championed in the RE/SEARCH books that formed a big part of my art awakening in college, but somewhere in that time I bought a zine because he was on the the cover, and it turned out to be a white supremacist rag posing as an experimental music zine, which seemed like a terrible marketing strategy for both. It's like when I got into black metal and had to be in constant fear that I wasn't supporting actual monsters vs. people who liked to act like monsters and think about them too much. I remember a bunch of us really liked this album at the radio station, and I'd play this creepy late-night song on my creepy late-night music show.


Boyd Rice, "Disneyland Can Wait"

This came to mind because I got word a big ole Temple ov Psychick Youth book arrived and they were similarly on the cusp between art weirdos and scary weirdos and now I'm less impressionable and have a greater grasp on consequence and where mind control gets you, I'm not sure what to think. Back then, I drew the little three-pronged crosses all over my notebooks like I did the Ozzy logo on everything in jr. high.

I wrote a rather mean-spirited review of the new Brian Eno album, partly for humorous effect. partly because it isn't very good, mostly because I have other things I should be doing but I'm waffling on it. To whom am I being mean? What compels me to do so? These Crowley types are all about the strong > weak paradigm which is not where I'm at, aesthetically. Fred Simmons, Tae Kwon Do master, would berate me for this, but I like a little weakness. I have a weakness for weakness, I suppose. I suppose I should get back to work.