Son day 27 May 2007
YJ's Snack Cafe
18th and Wyandotte
Kansas City, Missouri
00:49 -- So I tried calling boB about the cd's. I will edit together what I have and work with it and hope that the cd's will come through. I came here in the pouring rain as my sleep schedule is screwed up. I will type this then Tima and I will go homo to beddie. It was raining very hard tonight, and I even saw some transformers blow in the distance -- an eerie green light if you've ever seen it. I even shot some vijumo if ya don't beleive me.
Anyways, after tearing down, John and I interviewed Justin about the benefit for Billy Christ, which I planned to try to pitch to some producer types in an attempt to get it on the air and get it some publicity. I went with boB, his sister, Sally, and his neice to Johns. We looked at old pictures, including pix of boB back when he had hair. There is an awsome stove from the 50's in Johns kitchen. Many of the houses in his hood are mid century modernish. I guess he is renting from James Grauerhauz, or however you speel his name (I'm too lazy to look it up now). Then about 04:00, I had to head to KC to go to woik for my 05:30 shift. I talked to the producer, but she wasn't interested. Kim and I got into van 4 (1 was gone and 2 has a bad cable reel). There were some bad assidents overnight and we did lives on that. Then we went to IHOP for brekkus (low carb) and the Racetrack for some hospice people getting a chance to ride in a race car. It got rained out though. We drove back and forth and back and forth until we hit the Woodlands for the Great American BBQ which is going on this weekend. Then we went to Oklahoma Joes as we were told to stay in the city, and then we headed back. Kim wrote up a vo/sot on the Bill Christ benefit and I stuck around to help a little, (I guess I helped). It is not much but it is something. Then I headed homo, watched what we recorded last night, which is video great and audio crappy --- PLEASE CD'S PLEASE!!!! Then I crashed. I got up about 20:30 and it started raining hard.
2'sDay 29 May 2007
Bedroom
01:36 -- Here is a story I woiked on yestiddy.
Tiddy Nancy and I went to the Topeka zoo where a male lion killed a female lion.
Suyen is home...YEAAA!!!!! I will upload her pictures from the Philippines as soon as I can.
Yestiddy after woik I took a nap, then took Tima to the dawg park. They were having that symphony memorial day thingie at Union Station so there were ton's of people around but hardly any at the dawg park. I then took Tima to the jazz jam at YJ's. I shot that with the SX cam with the intention of editing it into a nat's piece for an arts calender. So far I haven't been able to come up with a calender to work with. I forgot about the fireworks until they started exploding over Liberty Memorial and scaring the heck out of Tima.
Windsday 30 May 2007
bedroom
01:03 -- Today Sherita and I went to Lawrence to do this story. Now, let's talk about identity politics and how it colors reality. First of all, about that story, it is really hard to tell what the truth is. I mean the LEO's are just trying to do a job. Maybe they were over zealous. Then comes groups who want to help. Whenever you have a widely publicised disaster like this one, there are many people who come out of the woodwork who want to get involved. Unfortunately some of those people are flaky, and just want to be a part of the action. LEO's and the victims have no time for that. So those types of people should be escorted off. Were the people in this group some of the flaky ones? Who knows. I met Joe and David today, and have left with a good impression of people who want to do a good thing and help. Then I met plenty of others who were, well, flaky. They couldn't get past the Fox written on the door of our car. So if some of these people went down on the trip to help, I personally can't see how they could have done anything other than stir up trouble. Sherita and I left with the distinctive opinion that some of these people have formed a clique that have latched onto the identity of anarchists. They are no different from any other narcissistic group whether they be members of a fraternity, or members of a high school cheerleading squad or what. Only these people cling to the ideas that they are anarchists, and that LEO's or Fox 4 News are somehow automatically their enemies. They do not measure each individual by their actions or deeds, but would rather see the labels and judge them by that. Might as well start hating people because they are gay, or of a different race or whatever. So let me see, what kind of things have I done to personally bring these people down? Hmmm.....
Turdsday 31 May 2007
Reporter Ghetto
at woik
01:46 -- Mott-ly passed away....
What can you say? Mott-ly was different. Not the kind of different that people strive hard to be yet never achieve because you can never find it, it finds you, but the kind of different that is forced upon a person. I remember the first time I saw him. It was in July 1989 in what was and always shall be Volker Park at the Artists for Amnesty show. He was leading his band MUDHEAD. MUDHEAD was a motley band, and it had Mott-ly as the front person. I've collected what I could of their records since then. They were different. So now Mott-ly has succombed to his physical ailments, and that is a shame. He never really let them stop him from being the wonderful creative person he was. In many ways, I think he used what he had as a sort of blessing. I have met many able bodied people who could not carry on as cheerfully and ably as Mott-ly did, so knowing him, even in the limited capacity that I did was a blessing. I only regret that I never got to sit with him for a couple of hours and share some coffee or pizza or something, and share ideas. Mott-ly, it was good to know you.
Today at woik I got to take care of some side work that I had to do -- mostly emmy stuff. I also worked on the arts calender.
02:59 -- Y.J.'s Snack Cafe, 18th and Wyandotte, Kansas City, Missouri -- I am here taking a break from running around trying to get sheite done. I have scheduled to videotape the Fast Food Junkies tonight at the Hurricane. The manager is cool with it so it's on. If I can only get ahold of boB. Sprecken zi which -- he eulogized Mott-ly thusly ---
http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=112849&blogID=270739157&MyToken=b2c3628a-60da-4150-9ffa-a7720afd0279
-Thursday, May 31, 2007
More on Mott-ly (R.I.P.)
Current mood: Sad
Category: Sad Dreams and the Supernatural
I think I met Mott-ly in maybe 81 or 82/3. Probably at the VFW hall in KC.
During the River City Reunion event in Lawrence (1985? 86?) Mott-ly helped me interview Jello Biafra for my fanzine (Sour Notes). He was a god-send on THAT deal: I had gotten wasted the night before, and was still drunk and hungover and couldnt do much more then babble. But Mott-ly stepped up to the plate and basically did the interview while my head spun and I held the tape recorder.
I used to see Mott-ly at almost every punkrock show back then. I don't think it is possible to describe, or explain Mott-ly to anyone who had never met him or known him.
Stevo provided the video interview with Mott-ly below, and I am swiping Stevo's personal "Eulogy" from a different forum:
"What can you say? Mott-ly was different. Not the kind of different that people strive hard to be yet never achieve because you can never find it, it finds you, but the kind of different that is forced upon a person. I remember the first time I saw him. It was in July 1989 in what was and always shall be Volker Park at the Artists for Amnesty show. He was leading his band MUDHEAD. MUDHEAD was a motley band, and it had Mott-ly as the front person. I've collected what I could of their records since then. They were different. So now Mott-ly has succombed to his physical ailments, and that is a shame. He never really let them stop him from being the wonderful creative person he was. In many ways, I think he used what he had as a sort of blessing. I have met many able bodied people who could not carry on as cheerfully and ably as Mott-ly did, so knowing him, even in the limited capacity that I did was a blessing. I only regret that I never got to sit with him for a couple of hours and share some coffee or pizza or something, and share ideas. Mott-ly, it was good to know you."
Oh hey, speaking of boB, he just called. So I think we're on.
Speaking of that "other forum" -- I really shouldn't do this but -- what a whiny bunch of "manbabies." Ok, so they won't listen to reason, time to get mean.
2'sday 5 June 2007
bedroom
02:02 -- Turdsday We vijumotaped the bands at the Hurricane. It went well. boB and Sally came to hep. Aftewoids we went with John, their younger brother, got Suyen and et at Afflehouse.
Frieday Suyen and I went to my parents for din din. I snuck off and went to 1st Friday.
It was packed being Pride week. David had a great blues band playing out in front of YJ's.
TMI
Stevo
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Friday, May 25, 2007
Friday 25 May 2007
Friday 25 May 2007
I'm having a late night at YJ's so's I can sleep most of tomorrow as I will have a rough one trying to shot the Billy Christ benefit show and then turn around to do the early show at woik.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Monday 21 May 2007
Now is Nancy lit or what? Count them, 1...2....3....4 lights. It is a combination of mine and Michaels light kits. We were wanting to keep the ghosts at bay (it's a liveshot at Union Cemetery). I'm merely eng'ing. Michael is doing the heavy lifting here.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Saturday 19 May through Friday 25 May 2007
Shaturday 19 May 2007
YJ's Snack Cafe
18th and Wyandotte
Kansas City Missouri
22:59
Today I woiked with Kim. I was tard all day. That turn around is kind of hard, especially when you don't feel like sleeping. It is hard to sleep in that lonely old bed when Suyen is so far away. She is in the Philippines taking care of her dad, who is not doing well.
Our early lives were on the Junior Womens Symphony Alliance Showhouse....
http://www.showhouse.org/
Then we did a package on the Literacy Festival on the plaza...
http://www.myfoxkc.com/myfox/pages/News/Detail?contentId=3255099&version=1&locale=EN-US&layoutCode=VSTY&pageId=3.2.1
When I got of woik I went to Surplus Exchange. I got a couple of RCA cables. They are a buck a piece and I am always needing them and never having them. So I will accumulate a big ol bucket of them to have handy. In the stores you can pay up to $30.00 a piece for cables, soooo....
Then I went by the Antique store on 6th street. Then I headed homo. It was really nice on the deck, so I sat out there for awhile. But I was so tard I fell asleep, and woke up numb. So I moved to the couch and slept for a couple of hours. I meant to do some weeding or something uselful. Now I am sitting at YJ's because of course I can't sleep.
Oh yeah, yestiddy I talked to boB about my business plan. He sounds very interested. We will do a trial run at the Billy Christ Benefit and maybe at the Hurricane on the 31st.
Sunday 20 May 2007
bedroom
More favorite bands...
That's fIREHOSE, not Firehouse -- idiots... I know exactly where they shot that video. I've been there. That is Mike Watt's and D Boones hometown of San Pedro California. It is a seaside town known for it's spectacular views of the pacific and the Fortress which is right there. They shot that video in a gun emplacement of that fort. The fort was made redundant when it was realized that such defences would be of limited use in an actual invasion.
Everyone should read On the Road by Jack Kerouac. The video here I embedded is television history. Johnny Carson had nothing on Steve Allen.
Moanday 21 May 2007
00:54
Bedroom
Today I woiked wit Kim. We went to Heritage Park in Johnson County where there was a triathalon. Here is our story....
http://www.myfoxkc.com/myfox/pages/Home/Detail?contentId=3257992&version=3&locale=EN-US&layoutCode=VSTY&pageId=1.1.1
We had brunch at Old 56 Cafe in Oooolathe. Kim had the liver and onions that she said she really liked. I had the special of pork chops and eggs.
After woik I went to the aunt of all Wal*Farts -- the Wal* art off of Barry to get some snips for the small saplings trying to grow in the back yard. I also got flea stuff for the cats. I went homo and used the new snips to get the saplings I couldn't get before. I then took a nap. I got up and brought Tima to the dog park. There was one couple there who were abusing their dog that seemed to have discipline problems. I wonder why. The man was smoking pot while he dealt with his dog. After the dog park, Tima and I went to YJ's. I had the meditereanean plate. The jazz jam was great. Tima and I walked around the area and I looked at the neat art deco buildings on film row.
Speaking of bands on YouTube. YouTube is great. I saw this band in 1992 opening for Uncle Tupelo. Their drummer was off on tour with another band so they did a great accoustic set. I still remember it. In 94 I saw them at the Hurricane. I got to talk to them. Really really nice guys who were getting screwed by their then record company. I hope things are looking up for them now.
While I'm at it, I will post this video slideshow of a song done by the son of my favorite Author.
2'sday May 22, 2007
01:28
I'm in the reporter ghetto at woik
I'm at Rob's Desk
I'm at woik, but I'm not screwing off -- I'm dubbing clips to a dvd so I can sort them for awards
Here's a few more of my favorite bands....
I think I insulted the lead singer of this band in the tour they all did in the early o's with a lot of other bands. I asked him what happened, meaning why did TSOL de-evolve into a bad metal band in the 80's. Yeah, I used to like metal when I didn't know what I was doing. But I will tell you now, unequivically, METAL SUCKS!!!!!
Here they are in the movie Suburbia. The acting is awful in the movie, but the bands are awesome!
Now, here are some awesome Chicago bands....
Now, Pegboy evolved out of the ruins of....
Now here is my GawdAwful band....
Ok, I posted my terrible band because back in 94, we opened for these punk legends...
Yes, yet again the video is from the movie Suburbia. Ooops, watch out there's nudity there -- it's art!
Here's Jello Biafra
My friend boB, hosted him in Topeka in 2003.
Here's Jello Biafra in his old band, Dead Kennedy's
You may have heard of them... Maybe not. If it's not on emptyvee then most people could care less....
OK, the last clip is being recorded on the dvd, and it's late. So I'm done surfing bands and reminiscing my punk has been days. So ta for now.
Ooops, I forgot to talk about what I did today. Well, I didn't do much. I woke up late, and was on vo patrol. I just ran the truck for the 5,6,9&10 lives. It is easy work.
Frieday 25 May 2007
00:32
YJ's Snack Cafe
18th and Wyandotte
Kansas City Missouri
2'sday I woiked with Nancy. We did a story on Andrew Ellmaker having a personals web page. We went to the Johnsons Jail and got a tour. Then we talked to the husband of Terri Zenner -- the woman Ellmaker stabbed to death. Our live was to be at camera 9, but, after being set up and ready to go for 15 minutes, they told us they weren't getting audio or video. I stayed over and dubbed clips to put on a dvd from 2006. I have 2 1/2 hours dubbed and still I am not done.
On Windsday I woiked with Dave. We were doing a story on a kid who is about to go on a school trip but still doesn't have his passport due to a backlog of passports. We were called off of that after we had it shot and sent to a story on a Center Middle School teacher who sent innappropriate text messages to a student. We were live at the school and I eng'd.
Windsday night I went to Lawrence and met up with boB. We planned our upcomming gig tommorrow. I will be vijumo taping the dealeo. It is a benefit for Billy Christ, who was run over by three cars in January in Westport. boB's band, Klusterfux is reuiniting for the show. We hung out and et at IHOP after closing down the Prelay. I went homo as the sun was coming up.
Turdsday I slept most of the day. Then I got a lot of stuff together that I will need for the gig. Then I went to Debbies. Michael is in town. We hung out and watched the Pirates movie. Debbie fixed lasagna, which violated my new Atkins diet I'm trying. Oh well. We walked Tima around the neighborhood.
Sonday 27 May 2007
YJ's Snack Cafe
18th and Wyandotte
Kansas City Missouri
Fried day after staying at YJ's till the wee hours, I finally went homo and crashed til about 15:00. Then I got up and started getting my sheitte together for the night. I had to go to woik to get some stuff. I tried to get my paycheck but the people who dispense paychecks were gone for the weekend already. So after gathering my sheite, I headed Larryville way and arrived at the Prelay where I hung out for awhile until boB and fam showed up. We started setting up our sheite. I was starved so after setting up, I headed to Jeffersons for some low carbs. Then back were the Prelay was getting stifling hot. The first band -- Phantom Enemy went on. I met the father and son of the band at Jeffersons as we dined together. The vijumo seemed to go well except I was getting nothing out of the SuX camera but noise into the mixer. So I abandoned that after the first band and ran straight mics through the mixer. I overcompensated and over attenuated apparently thinking the mixer was overdosing the dvd recorder. Turns out that any sound I recorded from that station was very very very weak to the point of near non-existence. So then, my great white hope would be the mics in the back of the room as I found a bicycle hanging from the cieling with which to strap a shotgun mic to. Unfortunately, the beta sp camera left only one way with which to get audio out, that is through the headphone jacks which mixes everything mono out, which means that the other mic was picking up everybodies conversations almost over the music. So my last great hope is that they recorded cd's off the stage, so I'm hoping I can get copies of those with which to try to add to the audio mix and actually get one (an audio mix). Last night was hot, sweaty and extremely fun. It was one of those rare things in music -- the magic moment. That happened when the Klusterfux took the stage. I believe that really, truely, only spiritual people can create moments. Hence, the magic.
TMI
Stevo
YJ's Snack Cafe
18th and Wyandotte
Kansas City Missouri
22:59
Today I woiked with Kim. I was tard all day. That turn around is kind of hard, especially when you don't feel like sleeping. It is hard to sleep in that lonely old bed when Suyen is so far away. She is in the Philippines taking care of her dad, who is not doing well.
Our early lives were on the Junior Womens Symphony Alliance Showhouse....
http://www.showhouse.org/
Then we did a package on the Literacy Festival on the plaza...
http://www.myfoxkc.com/myfox/pages/News/Detail?contentId=3255099&version=1&locale=EN-US&layoutCode=VSTY&pageId=3.2.1
When I got of woik I went to Surplus Exchange. I got a couple of RCA cables. They are a buck a piece and I am always needing them and never having them. So I will accumulate a big ol bucket of them to have handy. In the stores you can pay up to $30.00 a piece for cables, soooo....
Then I went by the Antique store on 6th street. Then I headed homo. It was really nice on the deck, so I sat out there for awhile. But I was so tard I fell asleep, and woke up numb. So I moved to the couch and slept for a couple of hours. I meant to do some weeding or something uselful. Now I am sitting at YJ's because of course I can't sleep.
I am sitting here blogging.
Oh yeah, yestiddy I talked to boB about my business plan. He sounds very interested. We will do a trial run at the Billy Christ Benefit and maybe at the Hurricane on the 31st.
Sunday 20 May 2007
bedroom
More favorite bands...
That's fIREHOSE, not Firehouse -- idiots... I know exactly where they shot that video. I've been there. That is Mike Watt's and D Boones hometown of San Pedro California. It is a seaside town known for it's spectacular views of the pacific and the Fortress which is right there. They shot that video in a gun emplacement of that fort. The fort was made redundant when it was realized that such defences would be of limited use in an actual invasion.
Everyone should read On the Road by Jack Kerouac. The video here I embedded is television history. Johnny Carson had nothing on Steve Allen.
Moanday 21 May 2007
00:54
Bedroom
Today I woiked wit Kim. We went to Heritage Park in Johnson County where there was a triathalon. Here is our story....
http://www.myfoxkc.com/myfox/pages/Home/Detail?contentId=3257992&version=3&locale=EN-US&layoutCode=VSTY&pageId=1.1.1
We had brunch at Old 56 Cafe in Oooolathe. Kim had the liver and onions that she said she really liked. I had the special of pork chops and eggs.
After woik I went to the aunt of all Wal*Farts -- the Wal* art off of Barry to get some snips for the small saplings trying to grow in the back yard. I also got flea stuff for the cats. I went homo and used the new snips to get the saplings I couldn't get before. I then took a nap. I got up and brought Tima to the dog park. There was one couple there who were abusing their dog that seemed to have discipline problems. I wonder why. The man was smoking pot while he dealt with his dog. After the dog park, Tima and I went to YJ's. I had the meditereanean plate. The jazz jam was great. Tima and I walked around the area and I looked at the neat art deco buildings on film row.
Speaking of bands on YouTube. YouTube is great. I saw this band in 1992 opening for Uncle Tupelo. Their drummer was off on tour with another band so they did a great accoustic set. I still remember it. In 94 I saw them at the Hurricane. I got to talk to them. Really really nice guys who were getting screwed by their then record company. I hope things are looking up for them now.
While I'm at it, I will post this video slideshow of a song done by the son of my favorite Author.
2'sday May 22, 2007
01:28
I'm in the reporter ghetto at woik
I'm at Rob's Desk
I'm at woik, but I'm not screwing off -- I'm dubbing clips to a dvd so I can sort them for awards
Here's a few more of my favorite bands....
I think I insulted the lead singer of this band in the tour they all did in the early o's with a lot of other bands. I asked him what happened, meaning why did TSOL de-evolve into a bad metal band in the 80's. Yeah, I used to like metal when I didn't know what I was doing. But I will tell you now, unequivically, METAL SUCKS!!!!!
Here they are in the movie Suburbia. The acting is awful in the movie, but the bands are awesome!
Now, here are some awesome Chicago bands....
Now, Pegboy evolved out of the ruins of....
Now here is my GawdAwful band....
Ok, I posted my terrible band because back in 94, we opened for these punk legends...
Yes, yet again the video is from the movie Suburbia. Ooops, watch out there's nudity there -- it's art!
Here's Jello Biafra
My friend boB, hosted him in Topeka in 2003.
Here's Jello Biafra in his old band, Dead Kennedy's
You may have heard of them... Maybe not. If it's not on emptyvee then most people could care less....
OK, the last clip is being recorded on the dvd, and it's late. So I'm done surfing bands and reminiscing my punk has been days. So ta for now.
Ooops, I forgot to talk about what I did today. Well, I didn't do much. I woke up late, and was on vo patrol. I just ran the truck for the 5,6,9&10 lives. It is easy work.
Now is Nancy lit or what? Count them, 1...2....3....4 lights. It is a combination of mine and Michaels light kits. We were wanting to keep the ghosts at bay (it's a liveshot at Union Cemetery). I'm merely eng'ing. Michael is doing the heavy lifting here.
I like this sign in the Battery lofts area.
Frieday 25 May 2007
00:32
YJ's Snack Cafe
18th and Wyandotte
Kansas City Missouri
2'sday I woiked with Nancy. We did a story on Andrew Ellmaker having a personals web page. We went to the Johnsons Jail and got a tour. Then we talked to the husband of Terri Zenner -- the woman Ellmaker stabbed to death. Our live was to be at camera 9, but, after being set up and ready to go for 15 minutes, they told us they weren't getting audio or video. I stayed over and dubbed clips to put on a dvd from 2006. I have 2 1/2 hours dubbed and still I am not done.
On Windsday I woiked with Dave. We were doing a story on a kid who is about to go on a school trip but still doesn't have his passport due to a backlog of passports. We were called off of that after we had it shot and sent to a story on a Center Middle School teacher who sent innappropriate text messages to a student. We were live at the school and I eng'd.
Windsday night I went to Lawrence and met up with boB. We planned our upcomming gig tommorrow. I will be vijumo taping the dealeo. It is a benefit for Billy Christ, who was run over by three cars in January in Westport. boB's band, Klusterfux is reuiniting for the show. We hung out and et at IHOP after closing down the Prelay. I went homo as the sun was coming up.
Turdsday I slept most of the day. Then I got a lot of stuff together that I will need for the gig. Then I went to Debbies. Michael is in town. We hung out and watched the Pirates movie. Debbie fixed lasagna, which violated my new Atkins diet I'm trying. Oh well. We walked Tima around the neighborhood.
Sonday 27 May 2007
YJ's Snack Cafe
18th and Wyandotte
Kansas City Missouri
Fried day after staying at YJ's till the wee hours, I finally went homo and crashed til about 15:00. Then I got up and started getting my sheitte together for the night. I had to go to woik to get some stuff. I tried to get my paycheck but the people who dispense paychecks were gone for the weekend already. So after gathering my sheite, I headed Larryville way and arrived at the Prelay where I hung out for awhile until boB and fam showed up. We started setting up our sheite. I was starved so after setting up, I headed to Jeffersons for some low carbs. Then back were the Prelay was getting stifling hot. The first band -- Phantom Enemy went on. I met the father and son of the band at Jeffersons as we dined together. The vijumo seemed to go well except I was getting nothing out of the SuX camera but noise into the mixer. So I abandoned that after the first band and ran straight mics through the mixer. I overcompensated and over attenuated apparently thinking the mixer was overdosing the dvd recorder. Turns out that any sound I recorded from that station was very very very weak to the point of near non-existence. So then, my great white hope would be the mics in the back of the room as I found a bicycle hanging from the cieling with which to strap a shotgun mic to. Unfortunately, the beta sp camera left only one way with which to get audio out, that is through the headphone jacks which mixes everything mono out, which means that the other mic was picking up everybodies conversations almost over the music. So my last great hope is that they recorded cd's off the stage, so I'm hoping I can get copies of those with which to try to add to the audio mix and actually get one (an audio mix). Last night was hot, sweaty and extremely fun. It was one of those rare things in music -- the magic moment. That happened when the Klusterfux took the stage. I believe that really, truely, only spiritual people can create moments. Hence, the magic.
TMI
Stevo
Friday 18 May 2007
A few minutes before all the sidewalk sales, I walked down Massachussetts street to my car and headed on homo. I took K-32 back. Unfortunately there were no night trains to pace this time, but it's a nice drive.
Thursday 17 May 2007
A band came on at the Prelay called pterodactyl. http://www.pterodactyl.info/
I wasn't so warm on them, so I walked up to one of my old haunts -- Henry's. I like what they have done with the seating.
Thursday 17 May 2007
There was a band that played called Armoury -- I guess they are some KU students. The place was packed with KU students as for the most part everyones finals are done and it is time for summer break. Armoury on this night called themselves Favement. They did a bunch of Pavement covers (mostly). They were actually pretty good -- better than Pavement I thought.
Thursday 17 May 2007
I sat in the prelay and did some creative writing on Suyens phone. Now if I can only figure out how to get that stuff to my other blog --- www.frieghttrain.blogspot.com
Wednesday 16 May 2007
On the way into Union Station I snapped this picture of a Kansas City PCC car. I went in early to mail some bills.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Saturday 12 May 2007 through Friday 18 May 2007
Son Day 13 May 2007
23:47
Bedroom
Suyen's dad is terribly ill and she is going home to see him, probably for the last time. It is mother's day and we just came home from parents. We gave mom a card and brought some chinese. She had some pototoes and steak, so we et good. They started watching Fast Food Nation -- whatta gross movie. We couldn't sit through the whole thing.
Shat Turd Day I worked with Leslie. We did vo patrol mostly in the van. Leslie had to follow me in my car as she was late and we had to go to breaking wind. Someone was hit and killed by an 18 wheeler by NE 108th and 435. We only supposedly had a half hour show to cover Shat Turd Day, but for some reason Leslie and I put about 150 miles on the cherrybomb and van 2 covering about 3 points of the metro compas (north, South and West) and doing an almost complete loop around 435. I shot a thing at 31st and Troost at their festival involving the Marching Cobras that I edited into a rollout.
Son Day Tess and I woiked together. We did this Story about a little girl who has her wish fulfilled. We first did lives at the Mothers Day Run at Corporate Woods.
2's Day 15 May 2007
00:37
Living room
Suyen leaves for the Philippines tomorrow. She is really stressed about her father, her job and traveling alone. I hope I can manage to at least be there to see her off. My job won't allow much leeway on leave. I will have to go anyway.
Speaking of woik, this is what I did today with Dave.
I've discovered some of my favorite bands are now on YouTube...
THANK GHOD FOR YOUTUBE!
Winds Day 16 May 2007
puter room
homo
Today is my sisters 45th birthday...
Happy Birthday!
Here is the story Nancy and I did today about a bump and rob.
Right now I am so lonely. Suyen is in LAX at the international terminal getting ready for her flight to the Philippines via Cathay Pacific. The animules are here but are not real company right now. Today was a very frustrating aggrivating day. I am on the B team at work and not very well appreciated. There are little things that happen every day that let you know how well you are thought of by your bosses.
Turdsday 17 May 2007
01:40
Homo
puter room
I just talked to Suyen. She is tard but safe at home in the Philippines. Her flight out of LA was delayed. She got to fly first class out of Hong Kong because of it.
I woiked with Sherita today. Here is our story.
02:29
I'm thinking about things past. You are nothing if you do not at least acknowledge the past. When you think about the long road that existed way before you were born, it belittles you and humbles you into submission. It is best to shut your mouth and open your ears and eyes for once. This is for Megan. Read this poem and contemplate it. Supposedly this poem has changed peoples lives.....
Howl By Allen Ginsberg
I
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats
floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,
who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tene- ment roofs
illuminated,
who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy among the
scholars of war,
who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull,
who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burn- ing their money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror
through the wall,
who got busted in their pubic beards returning through Laredo with a belt of marijuana for New York,
who ate fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in Paradise Alley, death, or purgatoried their torsos night after night
with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, al- cohol and cock and endless balls,
incomparable blind; streets of shuddering cloud and lightning in the mind leaping toward poles of Canada &
Paterson, illuminating all the mo- tionless world of Time between,
Peyote solidities of halls, backyard green tree cemetery dawns, wine drunkenness over the rooftops, storefront
boroughs of teahead joyride neon blinking traffic light, sun and moon and tree vibrations in the roaring winter dusks
of Brook- lyn, ashcan rantings and kind king light of mind,
who chained themselves to subways for the endless ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine until the noise of
wheels and children brought them down shuddering mouth-wracked and battered bleak of brain all drained of
brilliance in the drear light of Zoo,
who sank all night in submarine light of Bickford's floated out and sat through the stale beer after noon in desolate
Fugazzi's, listening to the crack of doom on the hydrogen jukebox,
who talked continuously seventy hours from park to pad to bar to Bellevue to museum to the Brook- lyn Bridge,
lost battalion of platonic conversationalists jumping down the stoops off fire escapes off windowsills off Empire State
out of the moon,
yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering facts and memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks and shocks of
hospitals and jails and wars,
whole intellects disgorged in total recall for seven days and nights with brilliant eyes, meat for the Synagogue cast on
the pavement,
who vanished into nowhere Zen New Jersey leaving a trail of ambiguous picture postcards of Atlantic City Hall,
suffering Eastern sweats and Tangerian bone-grind- ings and migraines of China under junk-with- drawal in
Newark's bleak furnished room,
who wandered around and around at midnight in the railroad yard wondering where to go, and went, leaving no
broken hearts,
who lit cigarettes in boxcars boxcars boxcars racketing through snow toward lonesome farms in grand- father night,
who studied Plotinus Poe St. John of the Cross telep- athy and bop kabbalah because the cosmos in- stinctively
vibrated at their feet in Kansas,
who loned it through the streets of Idaho seeking vis- ionary indian angels who were visionary indian angels,
who thought they were only mad when Baltimore gleamed in supernatural ecstasy,
who jumped in limousines with the Chinaman of Okla- homa on the impulse of winter midnight street light smalltown
rain,
who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston seeking jazz or sex or soup, and followed the brilliant Spaniard
to converse about America and Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship to Africa,
who disappeared into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving behind nothing but the shadow of dungarees and the lava and
ash of poetry scattered in fire place Chicago,
who reappeared on the West Coast investigating the F.B.I. in beards and shorts with big pacifist eyes sexy in their
dark skin passing out incom- prehensible leaflets,
who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism,
who distributed Supercommunist pamphlets in Union Square weeping and undressing while the sirens of Los Alamos
wailed them down, and wailed down Wall, and the Staten Island ferry also wailed,
who broke down crying in white gymnasiums naked and trembling before the machinery of other skeletons,
who bit detectives in the neck and shrieked with delight in policecars for committing no crime but their own wild
cooking pederasty and intoxication,
who howled on their knees in the subway and were dragged off the roof waving genitals and manu- scripts,
who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly motorcyclists, and screamed with joy,
who blew and were blown by those human seraphim, the sailors, caresses of Atlantic and Caribbean love,
who balled in the morning in the evenings in rose gardens and the grass of public parks and cemeteries scattering
their semen freely to whomever come who may,
who hiccuped endlessly trying to giggle but wound up with a sob behind a partition in a Turkish Bath when the blond
& naked angel came to pierce them with a sword,
who lost their loveboys to the three old shrews of fate the one eyed shrew of the heterosexual dollar the one eyed
shrew that winks out of the womb and the one eyed shrew that does nothing but sit on her ass and snip the intellectual
golden threads of the craftsman's loom,
who copulated ecstatic and insatiate with a bottle of beer a sweetheart a package of cigarettes a can- dle and fell off
the bed, and continued along the floor and down the hall and ended fainting on the wall with a vision of ultimate cunt
and come eluding the last gyzym of consciousness,
who sweetened the snatches of a million girls trembling in the sunset, and were red eyed in the morning but prepared
to sweeten the snatch of the sun rise, flashing buttocks under barns and naked in the lake,
who went out whoring through Colorado in myriad stolen night-cars, N.C., secret hero of these poems, cocksman and
Adonis of Denver-joy to the memory of his innumerable lays of girls in empty lots & diner backyards, moviehouses'
rickety rows, on mountaintops in caves or with gaunt waitresses in familiar roadside lonely pet- ticoat upliftings &
especially secret gas-station solipsisms of johns, & hometown alleys too,
who faded out in vast sordid movies, were shifted in dreams, woke on a sudden Manhattan, and picked themselves up
out of basements hung over with heartless Tokay and horrors of Third Avenue iron dreams & stumbled to unemploy-
ment offices,
who walked all night with their shoes full of blood on the snowbank docks waiting for a door in the East River to open
to a room full of steamheat and opium,
who created great suicidal dramas on the apartment cliff-banks of the Hudson under the wartime blue floodlight of
the moon & their heads shall be crowned with laurel in oblivion,
who ate the lamb stew of the imagination or digested the crab at the muddy bottom of the rivers of Bowery,
who wept at the romance of the streets with their pushcarts full of onions and bad music,
who sat in boxes breathing in the darkness under the bridge, and rose up to build harpsichords in their lofts,
who coughed on the sixth floor of Harlem crowned with flame under the tubercular sky surrounded by orange crates
of theology,
who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty incantations which in the yellow morning were stanzas of
gibberish,
who cooked rotten animals lung heart feet tail borsht & tortillas dreaming of the pure vegetable kingdom,
who plunged themselves under meat trucks looking for an egg,
who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot for Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks fell on their
heads every day for the next decade,
who cut their wrists three times successively unsuccess- fully, gave up and were forced to open antique stores where
they thought they were growing old and cried,
who were burned alive in their innocent flannel suits on Madison Avenue amid blasts of leaden verse & the tanked-up
clatter of the iron regiments of fashion & the nitroglycerine shrieks of the fairies of advertising & the mustard gas of
sinis- ter intelligent editors, or were run down by the drunken taxicabs of Absolute Reality,
who jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge this actually hap- pened and walked away unknown and forgotten into the
ghostly daze of Chinatown soup alley ways & firetrucks, not even one free beer,
who sang out of their windows in despair, fell out of the subway window, jumped in the filthy Pas- saic, leaped on
negroes, cried all over the street, danced on broken wineglasses barefoot smashed phonograph records of nostalgic
European 1930s German jazz finished the whiskey and threw up groaning into the bloody toilet, moans in their ears
and the blast of colossal steam whistles,
who barreled down the highways of the past journeying to each other's hotrod-Golgotha jail-solitude watch or
Birmingham jazz incarnation,
who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had a vision to find
out Eternity,
who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who came back to Denver & waited in vain, who watched over Denver
& brooded & loned in Denver and finally went away to find out the Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes,
who fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals praying for each other's salvation and light and breasts, until the soul
illuminated its hair for a second,
who crashed through their minds in jail waiting for impossible criminals with golden heads and the charm of reality in
their hearts who sang sweet blues to Alcatraz,
who retired to Mexico to cultivate a habit, or Rocky Mount to tender Buddha or Tangiers to boys or Southern Pacific
to the black locomotive or Harvard to Narcissus to Woodlawn to the daisychain or grave,
who demanded sanity trials accusing the radio of hyp notism & were left with their insanity & their hands & a hung
jury,
who threw potato salad at CCNY lecturers on Dadaism and subsequently presented themselves on the granite steps of
the madhouse with shaven heads and harlequin speech of suicide, demanding in- stantaneous lobotomy,
and who were given instead the concrete void of insulin Metrazol electricity hydrotherapy psycho- therapy
occupational therapy pingpong & amnesia,
who in humorless protest overturned only one symbolic pingpong table, resting briefly in catatonia,
returning years later truly bald except for a wig of blood, and tears and fingers, to the visible mad man doom of the
wards of the madtowns of the East,
Pilgrim State's Rockland's and Greystone's foetid halls, bickering with the echoes of the soul, rock- ing and rolling in
the midnight solitude-bench dolmen-realms of love, dream of life a night- mare, bodies turned to stone as heavy as the
moon,
with mother finally ******, and the last fantastic book flung out of the tenement window, and the last door closed at
4. A.M. and the last telephone slammed at the wall in reply and the last fur- nished room emptied down to the last
piece of mental furniture, a yellow paper rose twisted on a wire hanger in the closet, and even that imaginary, nothing
but a hopeful little bit of hallucination
ah, Carl, while you are not safe I am not safe, and now you're really in the total animal soup of time
and who therefore ran through the icy streets obsessed with a sudden flash of the alchemy of the use of the ellipse the
catalog the meter & the vibrat- ing plane,
who dreamt and made incarnate gaps in Time & Space through images juxtaposed, and trapped the archangel of the
soul between 2 visual images and joined the elemental verbs and set the noun and dash of consciousness together
jumping with sensation of Pater Omnipotens Aeterna Deus
to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human prose and stand before you speechless and intel- ligent and shaking
with shame, rejected yet con- fessing out the soul to conform to the rhythm of thought in his naked and endless head,
the madman bum and angel beat in Time, unknown, yet putting down here what might be left to say in time come
after death,
and rose reincarnate in the ghostly clothes of jazz in the goldhorn shadow of the band and blew the suffering of
America's naked mind for love into an eli eli lamma lamma sabacthani saxophone cry that shivered the cities down to
the last radio
with the absolute heart of the poem of life butchered out of their own bodies good to eat a thousand years.
II
What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagi- nation?
Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unob tainable dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys
sobbing in armies! Old men weeping in the parks!
Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy judger of men!
Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of sorrows! Moloch whose
buildings are judgment! Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stun- ned governments!
Moloch whose mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose blood is running money! Moloch whose fingers are ten armies!
Moloch whose breast is a canni- bal dynamo! Moloch whose ear is a smoking tomb!
Moloch whose eyes are a thousand blind windows! Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the long streets like endless
Jehovahs! Moloch whose fac- tories dream and croak in the fog! Moloch whose smokestacks and antennae crown the
cities!
Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch whose poverty is the
specter of genius! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen! Moloch whose name is the Mind!
Moloch in whom I sit lonely! Moloch in whom I dream Angels! Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in Moloch! Lacklove and
manless in Moloch!
Moloch who entered my soul early! Moloch in whom I am a consciousness without a body! Moloch who frightened me
out of my natural ecstasy! Moloch whom I abandon! Wake up in Moloch! Light streaming out of the sky!
Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! invisible suburbs! skeleton treasuries! blind capitals! demonic industries! spectral
nations! invincible mad houses! granite cocks! monstrous bombs!
They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven! Pave- ments, trees, radios, tons! lifting the city to Heaven which
exists and is everywhere about us!
Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies! gone down the American river!
Dreams! adorations! illuminations! religions! the whole boatload of sensitive bullshit!
Breakthroughs! over the river! flips and crucifixions! gone down the flood! Highs! Epiphanies! De- spairs! Ten years'
animal screams and suicides! Minds! New loves! Mad generation! down on the rocks of Time!
Real holy laughter in the river! They saw it all! the wild eyes! the holy yells! They bade farewell! They jumped off the
roof! to solitude! waving! carrying flowers! Down to the river! into the street!
III
Carl Solomon! I'm with you in Rockland where you're madder than I am
I'm with you in Rockland where you must feel very strange
I'm with you in Rockland where you imitate the shade of my mother
I'm with you in Rockland where you've murdered your twelve secretaries
I'm with you in Rockland where you laugh at this invisible humor
I'm with you in Rockland where we are great writers on the same dreadful typewriter
I'm with you in Rockland where your condition has become serious and is reported on the radio
I'm with you in Rockland where the faculties of the skull no longer admit the worms of the senses
I'm with you in Rockland where you drink the tea of the breasts of the spinsters of Utica
I'm with you in Rockland where you pun on the bodies of your nurses the harpies of the Bronx
I'm with you in Rockland where you scream in a straightjacket that you're losing the game of the actual pingpong of
the abyss
I'm with you in Rockland where you bang on the catatonic piano the soul is innocent and immortal it should never die
ungodly in an armed madhouse
I'm with you in Rockland where fifty more shocks will never return your soul to its body again from its pilgrimage to a
cross in the void
I'm with you in Rockland where you accuse your doctors of insanity and plot the Hebrew socialist revolution against
the fascist national Golgotha
I'm with you in Rockland where you will split the heavens of Long Island and resurrect your living human Jesus from
the superhuman tomb
I'm with you in Rockland where there are twenty-five-thousand mad com- rades all together singing the final stanzas
of the Internationale
I'm with you in Rockland where we hug and kiss the United States under our bedsheets the United States that coughs
all night and won't let us sleep
I'm with you in Rockland where we wake up electrified out of the coma by our own souls' airplanes roaring over the
roof they've come to drop angelic bombs the hospital illuminates itself imaginary walls col- lapse O skinny legions run
outside O starry spangled shock of mercy the eternal war is here O victory forget your underwear we're free
I'm with you in Rockland in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea- journey on the highway across America in tears
to the door of my cottage in the Western night
Shaturday 19 May 2007
YJ's Snack Cafe
18th and Wyandotte
Kansas City Missouri
Turdsday I woiked the Mic in the Metro. Then I went to Larryville. I passed K-32 and went by the DQ in Boner Springs.
Friday 18 May 2007
I woiked in the yard all day. It was a nice cool day so I didn't completely sweat my ass off. I cleared out most of the underbrush that is trying to turn our back yard into a jungle. I took Debbie and Mathew to Ameristar Casino for the big assed Buttfey they have there for Debbies Birthday. I had that great dessert lady sing happy birthday to Debbie. I recorded the video on Suyens phone. Again, I have to figure out how to get that onto the puter. Afterward we went to our house to have tea and espresso, then I took them home. I brought Tima with us since poor Tima was chained in the yard all day. Then we got some dog and bird food at Hyvee. Then it was off to bed for the oily moaning at Fox 4.
TMI
Stevo
23:47
Bedroom
Suyen's dad is terribly ill and she is going home to see him, probably for the last time. It is mother's day and we just came home from parents. We gave mom a card and brought some chinese. She had some pototoes and steak, so we et good. They started watching Fast Food Nation -- whatta gross movie. We couldn't sit through the whole thing.
Shat Turd Day I worked with Leslie. We did vo patrol mostly in the van. Leslie had to follow me in my car as she was late and we had to go to breaking wind. Someone was hit and killed by an 18 wheeler by NE 108th and 435. We only supposedly had a half hour show to cover Shat Turd Day, but for some reason Leslie and I put about 150 miles on the cherrybomb and van 2 covering about 3 points of the metro compas (north, South and West) and doing an almost complete loop around 435. I shot a thing at 31st and Troost at their festival involving the Marching Cobras that I edited into a rollout.
Son Day Tess and I woiked together. We did this Story about a little girl who has her wish fulfilled. We first did lives at the Mothers Day Run at Corporate Woods.
2's Day 15 May 2007
00:37
Living room
Suyen leaves for the Philippines tomorrow. She is really stressed about her father, her job and traveling alone. I hope I can manage to at least be there to see her off. My job won't allow much leeway on leave. I will have to go anyway.
Speaking of woik, this is what I did today with Dave.
I've discovered some of my favorite bands are now on YouTube...
THANK GHOD FOR YOUTUBE!
Winds Day 16 May 2007
puter room
homo
Today is my sisters 45th birthday...
Happy Birthday!
On the way into Union Station I snapped this picture of a Kansas City PCC car. I went in early to mail some bills.
Here is the story Nancy and I did today about a bump and rob.
Our live tonight was at the River Market in Kansas City.
Right now I am so lonely. Suyen is in LAX at the international terminal getting ready for her flight to the Philippines via Cathay Pacific. The animules are here but are not real company right now. Today was a very frustrating aggrivating day. I am on the B team at work and not very well appreciated. There are little things that happen every day that let you know how well you are thought of by your bosses.
Turdsday 17 May 2007
01:40
Homo
puter room
I just talked to Suyen. She is tard but safe at home in the Philippines. Her flight out of LA was delayed. She got to fly first class out of Hong Kong because of it.
I woiked with Sherita today. Here is our story.
02:29
I'm thinking about things past. You are nothing if you do not at least acknowledge the past. When you think about the long road that existed way before you were born, it belittles you and humbles you into submission. It is best to shut your mouth and open your ears and eyes for once. This is for Megan. Read this poem and contemplate it. Supposedly this poem has changed peoples lives.....
Howl By Allen Ginsberg
I
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,
who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats
floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz,
who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tene- ment roofs
illuminated,
who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy among the
scholars of war,
who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull,
who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burn- ing their money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror
through the wall,
who got busted in their pubic beards returning through Laredo with a belt of marijuana for New York,
who ate fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in Paradise Alley, death, or purgatoried their torsos night after night
with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, al- cohol and cock and endless balls,
incomparable blind; streets of shuddering cloud and lightning in the mind leaping toward poles of Canada &
Paterson, illuminating all the mo- tionless world of Time between,
Peyote solidities of halls, backyard green tree cemetery dawns, wine drunkenness over the rooftops, storefront
boroughs of teahead joyride neon blinking traffic light, sun and moon and tree vibrations in the roaring winter dusks
of Brook- lyn, ashcan rantings and kind king light of mind,
who chained themselves to subways for the endless ride from Battery to holy Bronx on benzedrine until the noise of
wheels and children brought them down shuddering mouth-wracked and battered bleak of brain all drained of
brilliance in the drear light of Zoo,
who sank all night in submarine light of Bickford's floated out and sat through the stale beer after noon in desolate
Fugazzi's, listening to the crack of doom on the hydrogen jukebox,
who talked continuously seventy hours from park to pad to bar to Bellevue to museum to the Brook- lyn Bridge,
lost battalion of platonic conversationalists jumping down the stoops off fire escapes off windowsills off Empire State
out of the moon,
yacketayakking screaming vomiting whispering facts and memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks and shocks of
hospitals and jails and wars,
whole intellects disgorged in total recall for seven days and nights with brilliant eyes, meat for the Synagogue cast on
the pavement,
who vanished into nowhere Zen New Jersey leaving a trail of ambiguous picture postcards of Atlantic City Hall,
suffering Eastern sweats and Tangerian bone-grind- ings and migraines of China under junk-with- drawal in
Newark's bleak furnished room,
who wandered around and around at midnight in the railroad yard wondering where to go, and went, leaving no
broken hearts,
who lit cigarettes in boxcars boxcars boxcars racketing through snow toward lonesome farms in grand- father night,
who studied Plotinus Poe St. John of the Cross telep- athy and bop kabbalah because the cosmos in- stinctively
vibrated at their feet in Kansas,
who loned it through the streets of Idaho seeking vis- ionary indian angels who were visionary indian angels,
who thought they were only mad when Baltimore gleamed in supernatural ecstasy,
who jumped in limousines with the Chinaman of Okla- homa on the impulse of winter midnight street light smalltown
rain,
who lounged hungry and lonesome through Houston seeking jazz or sex or soup, and followed the brilliant Spaniard
to converse about America and Eternity, a hopeless task, and so took ship to Africa,
who disappeared into the volcanoes of Mexico leaving behind nothing but the shadow of dungarees and the lava and
ash of poetry scattered in fire place Chicago,
who reappeared on the West Coast investigating the F.B.I. in beards and shorts with big pacifist eyes sexy in their
dark skin passing out incom- prehensible leaflets,
who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism,
who distributed Supercommunist pamphlets in Union Square weeping and undressing while the sirens of Los Alamos
wailed them down, and wailed down Wall, and the Staten Island ferry also wailed,
who broke down crying in white gymnasiums naked and trembling before the machinery of other skeletons,
who bit detectives in the neck and shrieked with delight in policecars for committing no crime but their own wild
cooking pederasty and intoxication,
who howled on their knees in the subway and were dragged off the roof waving genitals and manu- scripts,
who let themselves be fucked in the ass by saintly motorcyclists, and screamed with joy,
who blew and were blown by those human seraphim, the sailors, caresses of Atlantic and Caribbean love,
who balled in the morning in the evenings in rose gardens and the grass of public parks and cemeteries scattering
their semen freely to whomever come who may,
who hiccuped endlessly trying to giggle but wound up with a sob behind a partition in a Turkish Bath when the blond
& naked angel came to pierce them with a sword,
who lost their loveboys to the three old shrews of fate the one eyed shrew of the heterosexual dollar the one eyed
shrew that winks out of the womb and the one eyed shrew that does nothing but sit on her ass and snip the intellectual
golden threads of the craftsman's loom,
who copulated ecstatic and insatiate with a bottle of beer a sweetheart a package of cigarettes a can- dle and fell off
the bed, and continued along the floor and down the hall and ended fainting on the wall with a vision of ultimate cunt
and come eluding the last gyzym of consciousness,
who sweetened the snatches of a million girls trembling in the sunset, and were red eyed in the morning but prepared
to sweeten the snatch of the sun rise, flashing buttocks under barns and naked in the lake,
who went out whoring through Colorado in myriad stolen night-cars, N.C., secret hero of these poems, cocksman and
Adonis of Denver-joy to the memory of his innumerable lays of girls in empty lots & diner backyards, moviehouses'
rickety rows, on mountaintops in caves or with gaunt waitresses in familiar roadside lonely pet- ticoat upliftings &
especially secret gas-station solipsisms of johns, & hometown alleys too,
who faded out in vast sordid movies, were shifted in dreams, woke on a sudden Manhattan, and picked themselves up
out of basements hung over with heartless Tokay and horrors of Third Avenue iron dreams & stumbled to unemploy-
ment offices,
who walked all night with their shoes full of blood on the snowbank docks waiting for a door in the East River to open
to a room full of steamheat and opium,
who created great suicidal dramas on the apartment cliff-banks of the Hudson under the wartime blue floodlight of
the moon & their heads shall be crowned with laurel in oblivion,
who ate the lamb stew of the imagination or digested the crab at the muddy bottom of the rivers of Bowery,
who wept at the romance of the streets with their pushcarts full of onions and bad music,
who sat in boxes breathing in the darkness under the bridge, and rose up to build harpsichords in their lofts,
who coughed on the sixth floor of Harlem crowned with flame under the tubercular sky surrounded by orange crates
of theology,
who scribbled all night rocking and rolling over lofty incantations which in the yellow morning were stanzas of
gibberish,
who cooked rotten animals lung heart feet tail borsht & tortillas dreaming of the pure vegetable kingdom,
who plunged themselves under meat trucks looking for an egg,
who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot for Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks fell on their
heads every day for the next decade,
who cut their wrists three times successively unsuccess- fully, gave up and were forced to open antique stores where
they thought they were growing old and cried,
who were burned alive in their innocent flannel suits on Madison Avenue amid blasts of leaden verse & the tanked-up
clatter of the iron regiments of fashion & the nitroglycerine shrieks of the fairies of advertising & the mustard gas of
sinis- ter intelligent editors, or were run down by the drunken taxicabs of Absolute Reality,
who jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge this actually hap- pened and walked away unknown and forgotten into the
ghostly daze of Chinatown soup alley ways & firetrucks, not even one free beer,
who sang out of their windows in despair, fell out of the subway window, jumped in the filthy Pas- saic, leaped on
negroes, cried all over the street, danced on broken wineglasses barefoot smashed phonograph records of nostalgic
European 1930s German jazz finished the whiskey and threw up groaning into the bloody toilet, moans in their ears
and the blast of colossal steam whistles,
who barreled down the highways of the past journeying to each other's hotrod-Golgotha jail-solitude watch or
Birmingham jazz incarnation,
who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had a vision to find
out Eternity,
who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who came back to Denver & waited in vain, who watched over Denver
& brooded & loned in Denver and finally went away to find out the Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes,
who fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals praying for each other's salvation and light and breasts, until the soul
illuminated its hair for a second,
who crashed through their minds in jail waiting for impossible criminals with golden heads and the charm of reality in
their hearts who sang sweet blues to Alcatraz,
who retired to Mexico to cultivate a habit, or Rocky Mount to tender Buddha or Tangiers to boys or Southern Pacific
to the black locomotive or Harvard to Narcissus to Woodlawn to the daisychain or grave,
who demanded sanity trials accusing the radio of hyp notism & were left with their insanity & their hands & a hung
jury,
who threw potato salad at CCNY lecturers on Dadaism and subsequently presented themselves on the granite steps of
the madhouse with shaven heads and harlequin speech of suicide, demanding in- stantaneous lobotomy,
and who were given instead the concrete void of insulin Metrazol electricity hydrotherapy psycho- therapy
occupational therapy pingpong & amnesia,
who in humorless protest overturned only one symbolic pingpong table, resting briefly in catatonia,
returning years later truly bald except for a wig of blood, and tears and fingers, to the visible mad man doom of the
wards of the madtowns of the East,
Pilgrim State's Rockland's and Greystone's foetid halls, bickering with the echoes of the soul, rock- ing and rolling in
the midnight solitude-bench dolmen-realms of love, dream of life a night- mare, bodies turned to stone as heavy as the
moon,
with mother finally ******, and the last fantastic book flung out of the tenement window, and the last door closed at
4. A.M. and the last telephone slammed at the wall in reply and the last fur- nished room emptied down to the last
piece of mental furniture, a yellow paper rose twisted on a wire hanger in the closet, and even that imaginary, nothing
but a hopeful little bit of hallucination
ah, Carl, while you are not safe I am not safe, and now you're really in the total animal soup of time
and who therefore ran through the icy streets obsessed with a sudden flash of the alchemy of the use of the ellipse the
catalog the meter & the vibrat- ing plane,
who dreamt and made incarnate gaps in Time & Space through images juxtaposed, and trapped the archangel of the
soul between 2 visual images and joined the elemental verbs and set the noun and dash of consciousness together
jumping with sensation of Pater Omnipotens Aeterna Deus
to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human prose and stand before you speechless and intel- ligent and shaking
with shame, rejected yet con- fessing out the soul to conform to the rhythm of thought in his naked and endless head,
the madman bum and angel beat in Time, unknown, yet putting down here what might be left to say in time come
after death,
and rose reincarnate in the ghostly clothes of jazz in the goldhorn shadow of the band and blew the suffering of
America's naked mind for love into an eli eli lamma lamma sabacthani saxophone cry that shivered the cities down to
the last radio
with the absolute heart of the poem of life butchered out of their own bodies good to eat a thousand years.
II
What sphinx of cement and aluminum bashed open their skulls and ate up their brains and imagi- nation?
Moloch! Solitude! Filth! Ugliness! Ashcans and unob tainable dollars! Children screaming under the stairways! Boys
sobbing in armies! Old men weeping in the parks!
Moloch! Moloch! Nightmare of Moloch! Moloch the loveless! Mental Moloch! Moloch the heavy judger of men!
Moloch the incomprehensible prison! Moloch the crossbone soulless jailhouse and Congress of sorrows! Moloch whose
buildings are judgment! Moloch the vast stone of war! Moloch the stun- ned governments!
Moloch whose mind is pure machinery! Moloch whose blood is running money! Moloch whose fingers are ten armies!
Moloch whose breast is a canni- bal dynamo! Moloch whose ear is a smoking tomb!
Moloch whose eyes are a thousand blind windows! Moloch whose skyscrapers stand in the long streets like endless
Jehovahs! Moloch whose fac- tories dream and croak in the fog! Moloch whose smokestacks and antennae crown the
cities!
Moloch whose love is endless oil and stone! Moloch whose soul is electricity and banks! Moloch whose poverty is the
specter of genius! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen! Moloch whose name is the Mind!
Moloch in whom I sit lonely! Moloch in whom I dream Angels! Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in Moloch! Lacklove and
manless in Moloch!
Moloch who entered my soul early! Moloch in whom I am a consciousness without a body! Moloch who frightened me
out of my natural ecstasy! Moloch whom I abandon! Wake up in Moloch! Light streaming out of the sky!
Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! invisible suburbs! skeleton treasuries! blind capitals! demonic industries! spectral
nations! invincible mad houses! granite cocks! monstrous bombs!
They broke their backs lifting Moloch to Heaven! Pave- ments, trees, radios, tons! lifting the city to Heaven which
exists and is everywhere about us!
Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies! gone down the American river!
Dreams! adorations! illuminations! religions! the whole boatload of sensitive bullshit!
Breakthroughs! over the river! flips and crucifixions! gone down the flood! Highs! Epiphanies! De- spairs! Ten years'
animal screams and suicides! Minds! New loves! Mad generation! down on the rocks of Time!
Real holy laughter in the river! They saw it all! the wild eyes! the holy yells! They bade farewell! They jumped off the
roof! to solitude! waving! carrying flowers! Down to the river! into the street!
III
Carl Solomon! I'm with you in Rockland where you're madder than I am
I'm with you in Rockland where you must feel very strange
I'm with you in Rockland where you imitate the shade of my mother
I'm with you in Rockland where you've murdered your twelve secretaries
I'm with you in Rockland where you laugh at this invisible humor
I'm with you in Rockland where we are great writers on the same dreadful typewriter
I'm with you in Rockland where your condition has become serious and is reported on the radio
I'm with you in Rockland where the faculties of the skull no longer admit the worms of the senses
I'm with you in Rockland where you drink the tea of the breasts of the spinsters of Utica
I'm with you in Rockland where you pun on the bodies of your nurses the harpies of the Bronx
I'm with you in Rockland where you scream in a straightjacket that you're losing the game of the actual pingpong of
the abyss
I'm with you in Rockland where you bang on the catatonic piano the soul is innocent and immortal it should never die
ungodly in an armed madhouse
I'm with you in Rockland where fifty more shocks will never return your soul to its body again from its pilgrimage to a
cross in the void
I'm with you in Rockland where you accuse your doctors of insanity and plot the Hebrew socialist revolution against
the fascist national Golgotha
I'm with you in Rockland where you will split the heavens of Long Island and resurrect your living human Jesus from
the superhuman tomb
I'm with you in Rockland where there are twenty-five-thousand mad com- rades all together singing the final stanzas
of the Internationale
I'm with you in Rockland where we hug and kiss the United States under our bedsheets the United States that coughs
all night and won't let us sleep
I'm with you in Rockland where we wake up electrified out of the coma by our own souls' airplanes roaring over the
roof they've come to drop angelic bombs the hospital illuminates itself imaginary walls col- lapse O skinny legions run
outside O starry spangled shock of mercy the eternal war is here O victory forget your underwear we're free
I'm with you in Rockland in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea- journey on the highway across America in tears
to the door of my cottage in the Western night
Shaturday 19 May 2007
YJ's Snack Cafe
18th and Wyandotte
Kansas City Missouri
Turdsday I woiked the Mic in the Metro. Then I went to Larryville. I passed K-32 and went by the DQ in Boner Springs.
I sat in the prelay and did some creative writing on Suyens phone. Now if I can only figure out how to get that stuff to my other blog --- www.frieghttrain.blogspot.com
There was a band that played called Armoury -- I guess they are some KU students. The place was packed with KU students as for the most part everyones finals are done and it is time for summer break. Armoury on this night called themselves Favement. They did a bunch of Pavement covers (mostly). They were actually pretty good -- better than Pavement I thought.
A band came on at the Prelay called pterodactyl. http://www.pterodactyl.info/
I wasn't so warm on them, so I walked up to one of my old haunts -- Henry's. I like what they have done with the seating.
A few minutes before all the sidewalk sales, I walked down Massachussetts street to my car and headed on homo. I took K-32 back. Unfortunately there were no night trains to pace this time, but it's a nice drive.
Friday 18 May 2007
I woiked in the yard all day. It was a nice cool day so I didn't completely sweat my ass off. I cleared out most of the underbrush that is trying to turn our back yard into a jungle. I took Debbie and Mathew to Ameristar Casino for the big assed Buttfey they have there for Debbies Birthday. I had that great dessert lady sing happy birthday to Debbie. I recorded the video on Suyens phone. Again, I have to figure out how to get that onto the puter. Afterward we went to our house to have tea and espresso, then I took them home. I brought Tima with us since poor Tima was chained in the yard all day. Then we got some dog and bird food at Hyvee. Then it was off to bed for the oily moaning at Fox 4.
TMI
Stevo
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
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