“Help! How did I get inside this person! Oh my God, I feel like I’ve been here for days! Somebody…for the love of God! Oh, this is worst than that time I was stuck on the runway at O’Hare for 3 hours….” etc., etc.
So, I played a party with {audio genic} which is the, shall we say, secular incarnation of synonymUS at b1 involving DJ’s, beats, and soundscapes extraordinaire. It was a pleasant evening, filled with music and wacky hi-jinx for all. Guests for the evening included the amazing Onyx and the equally amazing beatboxer Kid Lucky (whose talents as a beatboxer are only matched by his organizational/community building skills amply represented at beatboxing.com, his website. I have to admit, I felt pretty amateur compared to these cats.
If you didn't come out - you missed it. Show up next time and represent. Or something.
Steph went upstate to visit her friend, and I spent most of the day cleaning the house and the rest of the night doing yoga. I was definitely transported after a small phone call with Mary (those who have ears, let them hear). It was a good night, with many physical effects. I’m still noticing an elevated mood and a much more attuned mind, which is all to the good.
Nothing much else of note, save that PARSE has been printed, and is shipping. I’ve been showing it around like that guy, you know? That guy with a baby, and isn’t his baby amazing? Have you ever seen anything like this beautiful baby? Ever? And boy aren’t you tired of hearing about and seeing his baby? But he won’t shut up about his baby? Yeah, I’m that guy. I’m sure my friends are already saying, “Yes, you printed a fucking book. Maybe you should put it away every once in awhile. Try talking about something else, say. Maybe attend to your grooming, or something.”
Actually, I’m pretty sure they aren’t saying that at all, interestingly enough. It seems that Chad and I have really done something, here. I hope that the momentum continues…
I was at 13 last night (that’s where all this bibliographic exhibitionism took place) and the regional Slam was a hoot. Packed and noisy, everybody hopped on goofballs. Here’s hoping 13 takes it all the way next week at nationals, since they are clearly the best team up there, Taylor Mali notwithstanding. In spite of his being "the most hated man in slam" or some such horseshit, I always enjoy Taylor's stuff, and he seems to me to be one of the better perfomers out there. He's witty, charming, good with a turn of phrase and always unfailingly polite and pleasant when I've had occasion to speak to him. Having said that, his team didn't have what it took to beat 13 on their home turf. Anyway, it should be a great battle. I can’t wait to get to ABQ for Slam Nationals. Let the party begin!
Reading: Harry Fucking Potter and his Murderous Shit-Eating Half-Blood Prince (I cried. It was very sad),
Yoga for Yahoos/Yellowbellies (by Mr. Crowley, pronounced Crow-ly, because he is holy),
Lord Byron’s Novel – The Evening Land by John Crowley (no relation). If that last one seems a little obscure – I mean, is it Lord Byron’s novel or Crowley’s? – suffice to say that this book is so damn meta it kills me. It’s a novel about a book and the finding of a lost manuscript of that book and half the text so far seems to be transcriptions of emails between the characters… oh, hell. It’s all a bit complicated.
Watching: Deadwood (cocksuckers)
Listening: M83 – Before the Dawn Heals Us. Sounds like what My Bloody Valentine would have done with a laptop and a little more Swervedriver.
See you in New Mexico.
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