Sunday, March 23, 2008

The Five Minute War

Things move so much faster now that we have the internet.

Civil unrest breaks out after Republican presidential nominee, John McCain is determined to be the winner. Lied to again, America is exhausted and a war is sought upon the White House. The experience with Gore will never be forgotten. Obvious before, America can't risk apathy one more time. We're losing our houses over it and can't drive to work anymore. With the furor that bees take to defending their hives, the people of America destroy the White House. It would take no more than five minutes.


I saw the following show last night at The Smell, "Perhaps you've heard of our pal Lucas Abela from Sydney? Among many things, he performs as Justice Yeldham, playing an amplified broken glass pane with his face.... mm hmm, wacky stuff." Words and sentiment only Professor Cantaloupe could communicate. Wacky stuff indeed. Mr. Yeldham yelled into the pane allowing the audience to see that funny G-Force face like in the Air Force training movies from the '50s. A horrible, shrill grumble of feedback is produced. I begin purring like a kitten.

The pane at first is roughly 3-1/2' long. As the performance continues, spit collects and is easily visible to the audience. We watch him lick, scream and blow all over the glass. He breaks it over his head. His lip curls over the top and finally blood starts from his left cheek. I feel horror and look around, "I hope you jaded sons-of-bitches are really freaked out right now." I'd be so sad if we wouldn't allow ourselves the real experience of Justice Yeldham - if our lives, our childhoods were so fucked up that we couldn't let escape our fear, compassion and disgust for something so disgusting. When he's done, applaud the fuck out of his performance.

Kristof said he wasn't into it. I think he said he didn't appreciate shock value for art. I thought and responded that I felt it might be much more than a spectacle. Like he was screaming, "This is my mother! My father! It has become my World!" Being on stage is part of the extremity of the angst. To be seen. I didn't feel like it was a spectacle for a spectacle. 100%, Justice Yeldham played the glass with his face and mouth and bled and screamed till it was all complete. We weren't paying $5 for, "The Shutter," or "Doomsday" this week. I just hope we all can react sincerely and appropriately. I'm much more positively stimulated by this than the Los Angeles breed of hipster bar bands. Those parent issues are just not for me.

Maura was brilliant as usual, "What if he triggered really neat samples or something." Totally. I'm so proud to be an Aura. That'd be hilarious to hear Spring Swallows or the coos of fair maiden and water nymphs instead. Can you imagine? On stage the geeky, weird kid that licked school bus windows and pressed his gums against the pane was performing with a vengeance while our ears were tickled pink.

Just freaking good anyway. I don't get enough noise in my diet so much anymore.

Friday, March 07, 2008

Sick Day Three... It's Been Awhile

The subscription drive came and went. Before it comes, I disappear. When it comes, I disappear. After it comes, I'm set in my ways and I disappear. And then I went to San Francisco to disappear. Now I want to go back to reappear. I've got a cold and I've disappeared. I go out to disappear.

It's been awhile. I haven't seen my friends in so long. I want to see Yacht tonight. I won't make it. I can't breath out of my nose and I don't really want to be a mouth breather out there. It's hard enough as it is. This cold will keep me local to Venice. Another time.

I only saw Maura when she picked me up from the airport. It was a treat though. I recommend you always have a good friend pick you up from the airport.

I saw Tracy when I gave her the keys to my apartment. She kept my cats entertained during my absence. It was a treat too.

Stefanie put San Francisco into words for me. Fanny writes, "SF is so very different from LA. I could never live down there, because of the cars and the pretty." It was just that. The pretty? In San Francisco I felt normal again. Real as well. The cars? I could use the city. In two days I walked for a total of 10 hours around San Francisco.

I walked from the Mission District to downtown, got on a bus to Golden Gate Park and spent a couple hours walking through that perfect example of public works. I made it to the Inner Sunset where I used to live. I've lived in every San Francisco borough that a college student and newbie work professional could. The next day, I took a two minute BART ride downtown, started through the Tenderloin... turned around... walked up Nob Hill, walked down Nob Hill, walked through North Beach to Coit Tower and back to Kathy at work in downtown.


I'm looking through my pictures.



And with regards to the Autechre show in April, I have just been informed of the following:
It's all hardware.
Specifically "two elektron machindrums and an mpc1000"
The room is pitch black and you only see a red light. Which is Autechre passing a joint back and forth.
I think I have stopped breathing.
I have asked to be buried in that room.

Thursday, March 06, 2008

Sick Day Two

I hate being sick.

I hate daytime television. I actually wish I had cable. I would love to watch The Discovery Channel all day long. Pretty pictures. I learned on Oprah yesterday that Benicio Del Toro thinks it's like other planets on earth. Wow. Benicio. You are so... so...

Instead I'm watching commercials discussing some lady's husband's low sperm count. And she's smiling. They both are! Lady! Your husband's a pussy! Literally. And you're talking about it on daytime TV. Oh yeah. I am also challenging the idea that the installers of Empire Carpets are really that good looking. No way. Their crew is picked up every morning on the corner of Sunset and Gower and fashionable smiles are not their forte.

I have received eFlowers from the nice boy from the MidWest because I am sick. Pretty amazing. He comes with no internet personality at all. I find this amazing. No MySpace page! This is good stuff. He is an anomaly. For the purposes of study, I must investigate this most fascinating creature. And also because he's so nice to me.

Wow. Price is Right. Go Women's Lib! Go Equal Rights! One of the Showgirls is pregers. Looks like a good nine months in there. But certainly not the jacuzzi model. Oh no. But it looks like a good nine months UP there. And Drew Carey! The dude is magnanimously underwhelmed. I bet he's getting paid one magnanimous wadload. Isn't that right? Go Drew. I also sense some serious perv. Go Drew. This is the world's stupidest show. I tried to be a contestant on it once. It was closed the one day I went. I use my ticket as a bookmark now as a reminder of what a dork I can be.

I finished Portrait of Dorian Grey. Now I can focus on Ableton again.

Whoopi Goldberg cut her hair. Wow. Bow down to the pressure. I know Whoopi. It's hard. However, I am deciding to really embrace my Tomboyism. After so many years of vintage dresses, I can't put the jeans and cords down. I just can't.

Correction: The View is the world's stupidest show.
Actually, it's a draw.

I am thrilled with the Project Runway winner. A slight pest at times, I'm really impressed. He even shops at my friend's store, Opening Ceremony. Go Owley Patrol.

An update on the teeth. So funny. I've become such a lightweight but last night when rinsing with Listerine (as directed by my hygienist), I nearly passed out. Swear! The alcohol was so much! I guess you're not supposed to drink the whole bottle.

I'm joking!

It was only half.

More later...

Tuesday, March 04, 2008

My Name Virtually In Lights

My first published review...




Click to dig. It is also in print. Ultimately cutdown to fit but here's the missing materials...

"From an underground scene already regarded as next level productions of second wave musicians incorporating technology to speak for their art and soul, consider Misel Quitno’s music to be a first from a third level.

Classically glorious in ingenuity, more acoustic and less electronic, always a beat… each track blends sounds, clips, warps and tones that amuse, befuddle and warm with technique. It’s mystifying to comprehend how something so strange is so inviting. But Misel Quitno is, and he’s gliding us out on sweet infinite waves."

Next? Wire.