You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave

Listening to Brian Eno's Discreet Music. It's a lily pond of serenity with an eye-drop of sadness. In the book, The Secret History of Rock, Jim O'Rourke says it was the only album he listened to one year. I've contemplated a similar action, but I won't ever go through with it; there is far too much music to listen to.

This morning, I waited an hour at the Parking Clerk's office for the privilege of shelling out thirty smackers for a parking sticker. I'm glad I got it out of the way. I spoke to a woman about George R. R. Martin after I spied a character from his work (Cleftjaw, for you Martin geeks) mentioned in the text on the display screen of her Kindle. Our conversation barely caught wind; my number was called just as it was getting good. There I was, trying to make a case for a Feast of Crows, the oft condemned fourth book of the The Song of Ice And Fire series. "Reading it a second time, I came away thinking it was one of the better books in the series", I said. "It's written a bit differently than its predecessors. The prose is fluid and there's a .........oh, my number is called. Enjoy the series. Bye".

Because I had been holding in a pee for over an hour, I was thrilled when my number was called and soon forgot about the tragedy of being thrust out of a blossoming conversation. I'm not sure I would have been able to hold out much longer. I got my sticker and a visitor pass and made a pit stop at home to expel liquid waste from my body before heading to work, where I spent a good portion of the day feeling a little prickly for some reason. Maybe I'm just a prick.

Ok, a bit about Downton Abbey because I keep threatening to write about it. If I don't follow through, I'll just be bolstering the case made against me by all you haters who think I'm all talk and no action. Prepare to eat crow, you ill-begotten demons!

Downton Abbey. I'll make it simple and will include no spoilers for those of you who plan on watching the show. The first season, especially early on, was captivating, intelligent, and mannered. It was evident early on that the show was a soap opera at heart, but one cloaked in good writing and better acting. Thus, I willingly, often eagerly, stuck it out. The next season, which just ended, stripped itself of some layers and let the soap opera go to town. After watching the last episode, I felt a bit relieved that I didn't have to watch anymore for at least a year until the next season airs. The show delivers what it intends to very well, but it's turning into something I can't readily stomach. I think I need to watch some Deadwood, perhaps the greatest television show ever made, to cleanse my system.

I've become aware that I'm often thinking several thoughts concurrently. I attribute this to the new world I've landed in, one that often finds me multitasking on the Internet. I'll be playing an interview Guy Maddin while reading an article about artificial rooster insemination while thinking about taking a shower or calling my parents. Even away from the monitor, this type of thing is going on. I don't know if it's a good or bad thing, but it's adaptive behavior. Have you experienced this, Billy?

I've said what I needed to say, so I'm going to make like a tree and get the fuck out of dodge, you scoundrels.

I saw her in the meadow where the creek used to rise

Listening to Delirium Cordia, an album by Fantomas that is completely worth purchasing if only to hear Mike Patton's forlorn Gregorian chant. I've only listened to the album a handful of times, though I've owned it for a few years. I was looking for something heavy and manic and got the complete opposite. It is one long piece of music that spans over an hour. Ironic, given their tommy-gun approach in the past. It is also creepy, which is another reason I haven't listened to it much, scaredy cat that I am. Time has passed, however, and there is nothing I am afraid of anymore. I have felt the light of One Truth and I have overcome the illusion of separateness which all of us have been muddied by oh these many....

Oh, shut the fuck up!

Anyway, I'm listening to Fantomas and am loving it.

At my show the other night (which got a great review in the Somerville Journal - "Big Dummy Half Asses His Way Through An Agonizing Set Of Sub-Par Folk Music", was the headline. Ouch.), I began my set with a cover of Bob Dylan's Isis, one of my favorite songs. I rarely perform covers and why I chose this one, which clocks in at about seven minutes and has a shit ton of lyrics, a few days before the gig, I don't know. Maybe I'm a masochist.

Whatever the case, I learned the song as best I could and only managed to screw up some of the words. It was a joy to play. Dylan's version of the song from The Rolling Thunder Tour album is incredible. It's way more urgent than the original and the band roll through it with such mastery I get the chills every time I hear it. Every. Time. Son.

Before I took to his songs, I was an admirer of Dylan. I respected his guts and his willingness to follow his muse wherever it took him. I watched No Direction Home, last night. It's amazing, with some of the shit he went through, that he didn't flee from the business and sequester himself somewhere remote for the rest of his days. He was a pioneer.

Yoga soon. Perhaps after I finish this post. Been reading Jacques Vallee's Wonders In The Sky, which chronicles UFO reports from antiquity to the Industrial Revolution. There are five hundred in the book. So far, amazing stuff.

Took a break for yoga and a hot shower. A good session; I feel rubbery and serene. I usually practice right when I get home from work, but I came home later than usual and opted to eat first so that my session wasn't rushed. I made a delicious salad with mixed greens, raw cashews, baby beets, chicken, onion, black beans, carrots, and feta cheese drizzled with olive oil. I was going to favor tempeh instead of chicken, but I wanted as much protein as possible before yoga. For all I know, tempeh has a plethora of protein, maybe even more than chicken. Should have read the label. Anyway....

Last night I got into some shady business with some mint Milanos and cool ranch Doritos. I had eaten well throughout the day, so it wasn't a major problem, this toxic indulgence, but it made me feel....dirty, if ya catch my drift. These days, I find I can still enjoy eating crappy food, but the difference is I feel the aftereffects more. It's like getting involved with a woman who's wrong for you in every way because the sex is so good. After a while, the headache of such a relationship becomes too much and is sought out less and less. Hopefully.

Do I want to get into Downton Abbey now? No. I want to wrap this up so I can play music and dance like there's no one watching. Nope, scratch that last bit. Let's replace it with a vigorous, self-loathing masturbation session.

Holla!

I said a quick prayer till I was satisfied, then I rode on to find Isis just to tell her I love her

It is very late and I should be in bed but I need to wind down a bit first. I imagine I'll sleep deeply, given how horribly early I woke up this morning (Today, it was a little after six. Not planned) and how late I'll be going to bed. Tomorrow is Friday; I'll get through the day just fine, I imagine, and I'll have the weekend to recover, if that's what needs to happen.

Fun night with good friends. Played a show with Foley's band. Got to see some old friends I don't often get to see. My set went well, and by well I mean no one was really paying attention and I could barely hear myself but damn if it wasn't one of the funnest ones I've played. Midway through between songs I started .....

Ok, I'm in need to go to bed. Sorry, but this will have to be continued. When we reconvene, I will touch upon the night, like inviting Leesa up to the mic to improv a song with me about the cops outside which also had to do with our friend Mike somehow. It may be possible that I'll discuss my discussion with Sarah about Downton Abbey ( I've been bouncing around the idea of devoting an entire post about the show) and Carl Sagan. And maybe I'll give a forthright and possibly intriguing assessment of how my cover of Isis went. It might even be titillating.

Alright, sleep well, my precious angels. Dream the dream that is ancient and your birthright; the only dream there is. For it is there where you reside outside of space and time, in the realm of eternal bliss. I hope to join you there momentarily. I will fall asleep to thoughts about my Jacques Vallee book arriving in the mail and the very intriguing new trail cam shot of a possible sasquatch that was released today.

Until next time.....

The wind it was howling and the snow was outrageous

A quick post but I wanted to check in. You know, let you know I'm still breathing that sweet, sweet air. Or something like that. So, yeah, bye....

Too quick. You need and deserve more substance. Let's see.....

Oh, I know, let's talk about politics. Boy, that Mitt Romney, he's a real jerk, eh? Oh, and that Rick Santorum? Yeah, he's a jerk, too. And don't think Newt Gingrich is not a jerk, because he is. Obama? He's a jerk, too. Ron Paul? A jerk. All jerks. Let's move on to religion.

Lots of raping going on. Nobody gives that much of a shit. Now, let's see what's going on in sports.

Jeremy Lin. He's a basketball player that has become famous really quickly.

That covers everything. As for me, I'm off to rehearse for tomorrow's show. There is more to cover, but it'll have to wait for the next post.

One more thing: I feel like making love. I fear it will have to be achieved by my one-sies if I expect it to happen tonight. Don't pity me.

Until we meet again, keep smiling and caress each and every person you come into contact with, for they are you and you are they and I am the walrus.

When you find yourself in the thick of it, help yourself to a bit of what is all around you

One of the reasons we're messed up is our relationship with cause and effect. We see the world around us as the cause of what happens to us, the way we think and act. Could it be that the cause begins with us and the effect is the world we see around us? In a dream this is so. We never wake up in the morning and say to ourselves "Man, what a dream that had me!". We are the architects of our dreams. And our lives. If you disagree, I will punch you in the nostril.
--
Years ago, a man was driving home late at night. It was snowing, the roads were slippery. He lost control of his car and slid into a telephone pole. He died. Was it instant? Did he suffer? Was he afraid or at peace before he faded into the snowy night? It doesn't matter.

He was my uncle Mike. I heard the news from my mother, who delivered it to me around four o'clock in the morning. I fell back asleep somehow. I found out years later that Mike had been under the influence of alcohol when he crashed. Not surprising given his sad history with addiction, but it was particularly sad to hear because it seemed he had cleaned up his act. He had just started a relationship, something he had little experience with in his forty years. Things were looking up.

I must have been around eighteen or nineteen when he died. I suppose I never really knew him. But he was family and I was fond of him. He had his problems, to be sure, but he was always kind. Speaking at his funeral, my aunt held up a can of whipped cream and donned a pair of Groucho glasses and said something about the party not being over. It lightened the mood, but I wondered if the humor was to counter grief or conceal it. It doesn't matter.

Today is Valentine's Day, but it would be insincere of me to say I associate it with my uncle's passing. I don't. In fact, I always seem to forget he died this day. Well, he's in my thoughts presently and I hope, like I always do when I think of him, that his last night on earth was a good one. I hope, before his dream ended, he was floating in the warm buzz of his new relationship.

Anyway, Happy Valentine's Day, lovers. Don't mean to be a buzz kill. Commence to being romantic. Eros demands it!
--

Playing a show next week but I'm not going to plug it that much or at all. It'll be a late set here in the city and I don't expect anyone will want to make the trip, especially on a week night. Still, I'm looking forward to it. I haven't performed in a while.

Just listened to Thom Yorke's The Eraser. I never gravitate to it, but it's a solid record.

Over the last couple of nights I've been watching The Fellowship of The Ring. I plan on watching the entire trilogy. Haven't seen it in a while and the fresh perspective makes me appreciate it even more. There are some corny moments that jar me out of the story -not a big fan of frequent slow motion reaction shots- but that's a piddling complaint, considering the magnitude of the work. Looking forward to The Hobbit.

And you're looking forward to the end of this post, so here you go, you foul pagans.

Will she go down on you in a theater?

When you listen to God Speed You Black Emperor, even the most mundane tasks take on a disturbing epic quality. I'm listening to them now, confident this post will either be disturbing or epic. I can't manage both, I'm afraid. So most likely it will be disturbing. But you knew that already.

Just about finished the nearly seven hundred pages of text in A Course In Miracles. Then it will be on to the workbook with it's daily exercises. It's been a trip, I tell ya. I spoke about the book with Kevin over the weekend. As far as I know, he's the only person in my social sphere who's read it and thus can relate to what I'm going through. In fact, he's the one who gave me the book oh so many years ago. Stay tuned, readers: The day may arrive when I'm not such a fucking prick anymore.

I was a little bummed to hear that one of my favorite podcasts, The Lavender Hour, has ended. The hosts, Duncan Trussell and Natasha Legerro, have split up. The upside is that Trussell has started his own podcast. The Duncan Trussell Family Hour. When I first began listening to The Lavender Hour, I thought Natasha would somehow distract from the lofty subject matter Duncan is known for. Instead, I came to the conclusion that she was the perfect foil for him. They had great chemistry, at least on-air. I'll miss her laugh most of all - it's one of the best I've ever heard.

I'm tired. I started the day off strong, but in the afternoon my eyes got watery and I began yawning a lot. Maybe I need to drink more coffee. I'm having some now, sure, but maybe I need to really step it up. I drink two cups a day. That's child's play to a serious coffee drinker, who speaks in terms of pots, not cups.

Enough God Speed. Too stark for my current mood. Moved on to Neu. Just as epic, but less threatening.

Saw Mara last night for the first time in months. It was good seeing her, but the break felt right. It's not uncommon these days for long stretches of time to pass before seeing some of my friends and family. It bothers me less than I thought it would, quite frankly. I'm not suggesting I don't care about or miss these people, it's just that.....aw, you know what I mean.

Is it okay that I've been eating a lot of humus lately? I hope so, because I've been going to town, son!

We received a bit of mail the other day addressed to someone that doesn't live here and, as far I know, never did. I know it's not for my neighbors upstairs because Rick was the one who put the parcel in our slot (I saw him do it, I did). Anyway, my conundrum is whether to open it or not. See, it's from the L. Ron Hubbard Dianetics Foundation and I'm curious as a George to know what it's about. Could be some esoteric business. I'll have to give it some thought.

With that, I bid you adieu.

I'll never be the same, stars have lost their meaning for me

Keeping the trend alive, I awoke well before I needed to this morning. Without forethought I got up and grabbed my iPod, selected a track from one of Dr. Jeffrey Thompson's meditation CDs, and returned to bed. Rather than use the music as an aid to falling back asleep like I'd been doing over the past several days, I followed a hunch that the primary reason I'd been waking up so early was so I could meditate. I've been reading Robert Monroe's Far Journeys, about out of body experiences, and learned that the mind awake/body asleep state necessary to consciously induce one is best achieved immediately upon waking. With that in mind, I ditched the notion of falling back asleep and fell into a deep meditative state. For about forty five minutes I floated in the ether with no mind or body. It was something else, I tell ya.

My enthusiasm to write is dwindling fast. Might be a good thing to wrap things up, though it pains me deep within the infinite reaches of my pure heart that I may be depriving you of content. Ah, we do what we can.

Anyway....


I'm caught up with Downton Abbey. While I find myself snickering at some of its corny aspects, the show has delivered. It's a beautifully written soap opera. One of my favorite characters, Bates, never has anything good happen for him, aside from Anna, that is. I had to laugh at something he said last episode. When Anna asked him how his trip to London went, he said "It went more horribly wrong than you could possibly imagine" or something to that effect. Dude, you're an honorable, kind-hearted chap, but you've got to get out of this web of negativity. Watch some Chris Farley movies or something. Have a beer or a doughnut. Chill out. So yeah, Downton Abbey.

Alright now I'm out this piece. Going to read from A Course In Miracles, something I've been doing a lot of lately, and maybe do other stuff like cry or think of anyone I know who might have a gay-be . I need to know!

Am I still in you?

I had a song by Low float through my mind earlier today, unsolicited but not unwelcome. Here I am now, typing away listening to one of their strongest albums, Secret Name. I've been deeply inward lately and consequently sensitive to external stimulus. My listening habits have favored the quieter side of music, hence the soft, autumnal balladry of Low.

My life is pretty fucked up and I don't feel too terrible about it. I fell I'm ready to emerge into something far better. Whether this will be the outcome, I'm not wholly convinced yet, but the process is something I don't have the skill to articulate. Yet. Come, let's graduate from this topic.

Superbowl Sunday. I enjoyed watching the game with my dad. My mom prepared a ton of food for the event even though there was only going to be two of us eating it. My mom is a sweet woman. Sure the Patriots lost the game, but it was a good one, and anyway my abiding memory of it will be the quality time I spent with my father. On my way out the door after the game, he thanked me for coming by, adding that he doesn't have guests come by that often. Unlike my mother, who's been a social butterfly since retiring, my father has lost touch with most of his friends. I think our time together that night was good for the both of us, though perhaps in different ways.

Been able to catch some recent Celtics games online, which has been great because we don't have cable (I really don't miss it, though I would love to be watching Life's Too Short, which, from the clips I've seen, looks like it could be the funniest show I've ever seen, and Curb Your Enthusiasm. And Game of Thrones when it comes back). Paul Pierce has been playing out of his mind. Despite being unsure about the reconstituted lineup, I've been impressed with the makeup of this team. They're scrappy and mentally tough. So far anyway.

I woke up way too early this morning and couldn't fall back to sleep. Second day in a row. I was lethargic all day and by the time I came home, my head was pounding. I feel quite a bit better now. I'm keeping it low key for the rest of the night. Will probably watch an episode of Downton Abbey. They've ratcheted up the soap opera aspects of the show this season, but it's still been good. Still, I can't believe I compared the show to Deadwood at one point. That was just silly of me.

I've got some garlic lovers humus looking at me. It says "Wrap it up, my friend, and commence to eating me." I obey my master's call always, so see ya', you cutthroats and cockerels.

Love, reign o'er the Pats

As you know, today is the most holy of days, one that eclipses all others in its Majesty. And as such, it is a time when we can recognize and truly feel God's bounty. Yes, today America, nay the known universe, will partake in the viewing of the Super Bowl and rejoice.

There is nothing more important on God's green earth than this game, which in truth is not a game at all, but the reason for our existence. How could it be otherwise? Let us rejoice, my brothers and sisters! It is, to restate, the most holy of days. To deny it, to not invest every ounce of your being to it, would be to commit the most gravest of errors. The Ultimate Sin!

Today we celebrate eating and drinking to excess. No fruits or vegetables shall meet our lips; if such a happening occurs, your tongue will burn to ash! Today we eat only meat, chips and dip, and an assortment of fried foods.The only liquid that shall meet our lips will be beer, preferably from a keg. If a keg is not available, a can or pounder will suffice. As a last resort, a bottle may be used. God help you if copious amounts of beer is not made available to you. For then you shall know His wrath!

Today we root for God's chosen team, the New England Patriots. To do otherwise, is to welcome the blackest of evils. Do not make that mistake. But how could you, my brothers and sisters, when the choice is so clear? God does not choose unwisely. It is His will that the Patriots win this game. Have ye faith and it shall happen.

As today is the most holy of days, it has been willed by the Almighty that the rod shall not be spared when its use is warranted. Should your wife be slow in bringing you beer, you may punish her with a swift back hand or burn her flesh with a cigar, Breakfast Club style. Should your children demand your attention in their mewling manner during a key moment (and they are all key moments, my brothers and sisters, including the commercials, made for you by God's angels), you may whip them with your belt over and over until they faint. Should your dog walk in front of the television and obscure your view, even for a moment, you may take it outside and shoot it in the head for the sins of blocking glory from your vision and making you miss precious minutes of the game while you perform this necessary and brutal task. Let nothing distract you from your purpose.

Rejoice! Today, the most glorious of days, is upon us! Go Pats!

Anyway, I'll be watching the game with my dad. I haven't seen my parents in a while; it will good to see them. And yes, I'm also looking forward to watching the game.