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For updates on progress with our next album, shows, and things we’re thinking about, check out and like our Facebook page. While we put the finishing touches on LP #2, we’re trying to keep you warm with songs, events, art, books and films that have influenced us over the course of writing the recent material. Go check it out and like our page (you can like us even if you hate FB).
Sum: Forty Tales from the Afterlives
Here is one of the forty possible afterlives conjured up by wacky genius neuroscientist David Eagleman. This book is amazing, but I particularly liked QUANTUM:
Here in the afterlife, everything exists in all possible states at once, even states that are mutually exclusive. This comes as a shock after your Earthly life, where making one choice causes the other choices to disappear. When you become a lover to one, you cannot become a lover to others; when you choose one door, others are lost to you.
In the afterlife you can enjoy all possibilities at once, living multiple lives in parallel. You find yourself simultaneously eating and not eating. You are bowling and not bowling at the same time. You are horseback riding and nowhere near a horse.
A velvety blue angel gently descends to see how you are coming along with this afterlife.
“This is all too confusing for a poor human brain,” you confess to the angel.
The angel rubs his chin. “Maybe we can ease you into this with something simpler, like a day job,” he offers.
You are immediately dropped into a work life of simultaneous contradictions. You are concurrently practicing several careers at once, all the careers you had considered when you were younger. You simultaneously count down your rocket ship launch and defend a criminal client in front of a jury. In the same moments, you scrub your hands for a gall bladder surgery and navigate an eighteen-wheeler down a New Mexico interstate. Gone are the constraints of location and time.
“This,” you tell the angel, “is too much work.”
“Perhaps we could warm you up with a simpler situation,” he considers. “How would you like to be in a closed room, one-on-one with your lover?”
And then you are here. You are simultaneously engaged in her conversation and thinking about something else; she both gives herself to you and does not give herself to you; you find her objectionable and you deeply love her; she worships you and wonders what she might have missed with someone else.
“Thank you,” you tell the angel. “This I’m used to.”
As the spirit wanes the form appears
Dance Of The Inhabitants Of The Invisible City of Bladensburg
Loving this John Fahey song today. Psychedelic Indian bluegrass that shifts into a 20 second blues dirge at the end.
her little head clinking
like a barrel of red velvet balls
full past noise
treats filled her eyes
turning them yellow like enamel coated tacks
soft like butter hard not to pour
out enjoying the sun while sitting on
a turned on waffle iron
smoke billowing up from between her legs
made me vomit beautifully
and crush a chandelier
fall on my stomach and view her
from a thousand happened facets
liquid red salt ran over crystals
i later band-aided the area
o well it was worth it
pena pleased but sore from sitting
chose to stub her toe
and view the white pulps horribly large
in their red pockets
‘i’m tired of playing baby,’ she explained
and out of a blue felt box let escape
one yellow butterfly the same size
its droppings were tiny green phosphorus worms
that moved in tuck and rolls that clacked
and whispered in their confinement
three little burnt scotch taped windows
several yards away
mouths open to tongues that vibrated
and lost saliva
pena exclaimed: ‘that’s the raspberries’
One of the coolest books I’ve read in a while, self published by Gregory Hofmann. Music, zombies, philosophy – I want to make this a musical.
Music and War
Amazing WWII vet describing his relationship with the enemy through music. Totally beautiful.
Plastic Ono Band
Amazing documentary on this dessert island album. Go. Watch. Now. Better screams than any douche medal band.
What You sing when you haven’t written the lyrics yet
And you’re Italian
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