The original plan was to bomb local cigarette retailers with images and words from the infect truth site, but their stuff didn’t really meet our needs so we made our own flyer. Also, the copy machine at giant jammed so we weren’t able to make very many copies. Still, we managed to put up a few flyers.
The flyer can be downloaded here.
the following was something i wrote for a zine that was going to be put
out by my brother and i. we never finished the zine, so i thought i’d put it
up here.
the equation is simple. a dining room table full of dubiously obtained craft
supplies plus no pesky adults to complain about making a mess equals a ton of
fun and some great hand made gifts and toys for boys. we’ll show that
bitch martha stewart who the true craft denzians are.
we dumpstered, stole, and crafted back the holiday season.
though my involvement was reserved to a few candles and abortive
attempt at a cardboard model of the sweet life, christine, adam, and ryan made a
crazy number of crafts.
you will need:
or
directions:
time flies when you’re having fun. the last 3 months were an amazing time,
but
were perhaps the shortest 3 months that i have ever lived. i got to have a
girlfriend and best friend in the same time zone and i got to listen to tons of
music, eat vegan food, see shows, and skate. i had spent the week between
finals and going home alternating between hanging out with erin and hanging out
with the sweet life kids. the original plan was to hang out in columbus and
then return to pa along with erin to spend some quality time together in central
pa before saying our goodbyes. well, the best layed plans, to exploit another
cliche, sometimes go awry. erin’s gargantuan tonsils demanded immediate
attention and i was faced with the ominous notion of an unexpected goodbye
looming in the near future. i spent my last day in columbus just kicking around
columbus with erin. i like this girl so much and i always find myself wanting to
make the time i spend with her epic, like something out of a movie. the rainy
sunday was slow and quiet, but still i found a clock
counting down in my head. the camera didn’t zoom in, and the theme didn’t
sound in the background. there was just a quiet, reluctant exceptance that
sometimes things aren’t easy. i said goodbye to erin as her parents pulled up.
i went home where my housemates were providing a vegan feast: mushroom soup,
salad with feux creamy italian, mashed potatos, stuffed peppers, brown rice, and
a cake. sweet life indeed! we ate until stuffed and sat around by candlelight
after the power went out. christine and katelyn volunteered to drive me to the
airport to pick up tim. we had a sign and everything. christine ran to him and
embraced him as if they were long seperated lovers. tim was too lagged to
respond. the next day i finished loading the car and met with my computer
science buddy erin dean for a brief goodbye before starting the dreary six hour
drive back to pa.
columbus is flat. central pa is not. one of the things i miss most about
my hometown is the fact that the appalacian trail runs through the middle of
the village. its a popular spot for through hikers to have provisions mailed to
them, and some of the villagers even open their homes to some of the hikers for
a meal or a shower. i went on a brief walk through some woods and fields with
my mother. it was good to have some time alone with her and talk with her in a
way that just doesn’t seem to be able to be reproduced in long distance phone
calls. i told her about my trip to scotland. she told me about her
job. the air was cold and clear and the view looked like a scene out of one of
the pasteural landscapes that i had seen in the gallery the day before. home
town scenary and mothers. the things that we take for granted.
it’s always hard for me to get back in touch with kids from central pa. i’m
horrible at staying in touch amidst the turbulance of school and i feel like of
a bit of a jerk waltzing back into carlisle. its obviously no big deal, but i
just can’t help but feel like a bit of a prodigal son. i would have
procrastinated the inevitable phone call by hanging out with tim, but he was in
minneapolis. so, i called patrick and we got together a couple of times and just
had some random fun: computers, home brewed car mp3 players and other nerdy
stuff; culture hacking; sushi; and watching skate videos. always a blast. i got
together with peter, went thrifting, watched some movies, and talked about books
and music. between peter and patrick, i always leave pa with a long list of
things to check out.
two days after christmas i finally got around to calling alicia. lucky
thing i did because she was going back to philly the next day. alicia is one of
the few people from good old boiling springs high school that i see with any
regularity anymore. we played in a band together and got into
trouble in high school before i went off to study computer science and she went
to study painting. we went to a new diner in carlisle where she gave me tips on
traveling in europe and we got kicked out to make room for customers who would
order more than coffee. what were we to do? the menu wasn’t exactly vegan.
at least the big tip that alicia left might make them think twice in the future.
we went back to my house and listened to a cd of our old band. i copied some
music for her and we talked about school, music, our respective travels, and old
times.
i don’t always have a whole lot of time at school so on break i try to cram
months of media consumption into a few days.
From the Politech mailing list:
Since Microsoft cannot charge the usurious upgrade prices on which their revenue growth, and therefore their shareholder value, depends without substantial feature expansion, the component count must grow linearly (50 new features) if not geometrically (10% new features) per unit time, the quality control costs for them face a cost curve that becomes untenable at some point, the only question being when not if. Therefore, the greatest punishment you can possibly impose on Microsoft is to forbid them to break up their code base intoi ntegrable product lines as it marries them to a costc urve that will kill them in due course.
This argument is particularly lucid. The only problem is that Microsoft is no doubt intelligent enough to break their code base up as they approach critical mass. Unfortunately, it is doubtful that many will be aware of , let alone care about their reversal of policy.
I took the long way home from Peters tonight. Past the winding driveways of names I once knew. Filip, Johnson. Names which once were uttered daily in my speech, now relics of a forgotten tongue. Today I saw siblings and congregation members – babies now bold children, children now adolescents, and my peers and seniors,gone, gone. I drove slowly home, past the sleeping, dead cornfields, the empty frost covered barnyards, and the quiet, hidden lanes. As I turned down the bright headlights I wondered, will all these names almost forgotten, those faces now firmly sculpted from the soft putty of childhood be gone as quickly and ineluctably as the night’s fog with the morning’s light?
So, ummm, I got new glasses.
From http://www.gristmagazine.com/grist/maindish/schneider112001.asp?source=daily:
Jerry Taylor, director of natural resource studies for the Cato Institute, a libertarian think tank in Washington, D.C., said, “The environmentalists are right. A lot of conservatives buy into the analysis made by most pro-business groups that without ANWR we are vulnerable to the oil weapon. But you can’t make that case on the grounds of national security. The idea that you can protect yourself from Middle East production behavior by pumping oil out of Alaska is nonsense. There just won’t be enough production there to make a difference.”
My new favorite band, Austin TX’s Recover is going on tour with two other great
bands, The Impossibles and River City High. This should be a show to remember!
The dates that you kids will be interested in are as follows:
9.19 – Cleveland Heights, OH @ Grog Shop
9.20 – Detroit, MI @ Shelter
9.21 – Pittsburgh, PA @ Club Laga
In other Recover news, according to the Fueled By Ramen site
(http://www.fueledbyramen.com), Recover’s recent release Rodeo and Picasso, debuted
at #33 on the Texas Billboard list beating out such mainstream champs as N’Sync and
Gorillaz.
Originally written Sunday 08.27.2001
If I could have a month of days like yesterday, I would be a very happy man. I guess one can become sick of anything, but I would just love to have 30 days where I can focus on the things that are important to me without having to worry about the obnoxious difficulties of everyday life like finding places to live, fixing my car, paying bills, etc. Granted, I don’t neccessarily have a ton of responsibilities right now, but the anxiety of the approaching school year as well as heading off to Scotland as well as thinging about all the things I didn’t get to accomplish this summer is more than a bit harrowing.
But back to yesterday. It was an epic day, only tarnished by the fact that I couldn’t share it with my friends. I was woken up by a phone call from my mom. After handling some administrative details with my mother, I got a chance to chat with my brother about film, music and life in general. Later that day I also got a letter from him and some CDs which was a really great. It is going to be so amazing having him in Columbus this fall. Someone to skate with, someone to go to shows with, or just talk. I’ve never had the opportunity of being in the same school with Tim and its going to be a blast plain and simple.
After I finished talking with Tim I ate a rushed breakfast before heading into the office to do a little work. I’m working on a somewhat rushed project dealing with windows drivers. It reminds me how much I hate Windows, IT people who can’t figure things out for themselves, and being forced to do the dirty work for stupid IT people using windows. I guess the good thing about the project is that it gives me more experience with reading APIs and implementing software using those API calls. Though I could care less about the platforms I’ve worked on this summer, the skills I’ve picked up should be pretty handy if I ever choose to go into the industry.
I finished setting up a few tests of my code at work. Then I headed out to the skatepark. I was a bit rusty from not having skated all week, but I was back in the groove after a few runs. The public park in Austin is pretty fun. Its small and the obstacles are small enough for a loser like me to skate without looking like a complete novice. The local rippers absolutely shred the little course. I’m working on big noseslides on the tall manual pad, backside grinds on the low manual pad and ollieing over the fun box. Weak I know. I skated as long as I possibly could under the hot texas sun before I had to retire back to the old hotel to shower and get some more fluids. Before doing that, I stopped by Tekgnar to pick up a new deck. Too many times skating in the rain and too many aborted tricks means that the nose of my board had delaminated into splinters. I picked up a new deck from a local Austin company called ATX both because it was cheap and because it was a nice little Texas momento.
After showering and resting for a little bit I headed out the door to go to a little core show in a small town about an hour north of Austin called Temple. The show was free and featured some of my favorite Austin bands. The show was outside in a picnic pavilion which was also pretty neat, but the best part was that right next to the pavillion was a skatepark. The skatepark had a fun quarter, a low pyramid and a nice mini ramp. It was really great to be able to skate betweeen sets, but it made me sweat more than Mike Tyson at a spelling bee. The bands were amazing. It was the perfect example of why small town diy shows are the best. There were five bands and they all had pretty different sounds. The first band to play was a melodic, emo-twinged punk band called Skate Or Die. Their bass player was wearing this rabit suit, even in the heat, and absolutely ripped. After that, an emo band called meanest capacity played and they were also excelent. Following that, one of my favorite Austin bands, The Teresa Banks Profiles played. They have a pretty original sound, a combination of metal style hardcore with synth backing it all up. Not only do they sound great, but they also put on an intense show. They got the by then sizeable crowd rocking hard. After The Theresa Banks Profiles played, my absolute favorite Austin Band took the stage, err, picknic table. Recover is so damn good. These guys are all pretty young, but they are redefining hardcore music with their mix of crunching guitars, emotion, and melody. By using two vocalists they are able to create a really rich sound with both screamed and melodic vocals. Their songs incorporate components from all types of hardcore and emo music into a cohesive whole that is original yet inviting. Not only that, but they put on a great show. Their relative youth makes the between song banter somewhat akward, but none of the kids in the crowd matter at all. They love Recover and the band seems really supportive of the local crowds who have supported them during their relatively short life as Austin hardcore favorites. I’ve seen Recover about a dozen times and though the last few shows have had very similar sets, mainly songs off their new Fueled by Ramen release Rodeo and Picasso, the absolute energy of the band, their tight musicianship, and their overwhelmingly infectious exhuberance for playing their music. It was a rocking show, plain and simple. Seeing recover play is definitely one of the things I’ll miss most about Austin and it was great to see them play one last time before I head up north to the land of medio-core. The last band to play was also very energized and interexting, though I didn’t care for their style of music quite as much. Temple hometown boys Those Peabodys play what I can best describe as broken down classic rock played by indie rock kids. Its good high energy stuff and a fitting end to a rocking evening. The reception that was given to the band was really what a small town show is all about. It doesn’t matter how different the bands sound. Its all about supporting your friends bands, supporting the scene, and having a good time. I’ve been to a lot of good shows this summer, but I don’t think I’ve had as much fun as I did at the show last night. I’d trade a local show like that for any show in the world.
I didn’t make it back to Austin in time to catch the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club show, but I hardly cared. I had enough rock to last for weeks.
I’ve often joked to my friends that every song should have, A, a breakdown
and B, a sing along chorus. However, when one hears a song that one thinks
is perfect, it is clear that the formula to achieve such perfection is
a bit more complex than the two aforementioned items. Still, despite such
complexity, it is quite frequently that I hear a song that I would dub as
perfect.
Before I delve too deeply into this subject in general, I suppose I should
discuss the factors that lead me to write about perfect songs. This weekend
I’ve been listening to a bunch of music, and two songs, Stretch Armstrong’s
‘For The Record’ and The Buzzcock’s ‘What Do I Get?’ both struck me as
being absolutely perfect songs. So, I’ll use these two tunes as a basis for
the remainder of my discussion. In any case, I strongly urge you to listen
to both songs.
So what makes a perfect song? Well, I’d say a sing-a-long chorus, but it
goes deeper than that. I mean, I could certainly think of jazz, classical, or
other instrumental pieces that could be considered perfect. The key is that
the song should have a hook. It doesn’t matter if the hook is a sing-along-chorus,
a little guitar riff, or a couple of bars of sampled noise. There just needs
to be a short snippet of the song that abstracts the entire rest of the song.
It can either summarize the raw, most basic essence of the song’s meaning
or provide the center for which all the themes of the song resonate and
contrast with. This feature is one shared by both of my above examples.
First, the Stretch track has the chorus “We were more than just a tour date,
you were more than just a song. We sang and sweat together and helped to
carry on”. The second song, of course, has the anguished query, “What do I
get?” This is why pop music is, well, popular. This is the essence of musical
theatre. Both of these genres are crazily adept at creating these little pop
hooks. Think of the number of times you’ve heard a song that just gets stuck
in one’s head. That’s the hook! But we’ve all had Backstreet Boys or ‘NSuck
tunes stuck in our heads. Does that make them perfect songs? Of course not
which brings me to my second component of a perfect song.
A perfect song should capture something basic about the human condition in
general, and my life in particular. It helps if this idea is purveyed as part
of the hook. It must present this idea in a way that shows the songwriter
really feels, or at least has thought long and hard about the subject matter
of the song. Furthermore, the clever binding of the essence of the song’s
meaning to the hook forces the listener to evaluate the subject matter in the
context of their own existence rather than just from the artist’s perspective.
The Stretch song is about hardcore shows. Now this has a great deal of
importance to me because going to DIY punk and hardcore shows is one of the
five most important experiences that has shaped me into the person I am today.
Universally though, the song expresses one of the hidden values of music
in general. Music isn’t just a garble of notes. Music is a gift, a bond,
between people. It is a revelation, its feeling comfortable and confident
amongst people to bare your soul, to strip down naked and run through the
streets or quietly embrace the one you love. Furthermore, it creates a
certain bond, not just between the artist and the listener but between
listener and listener. It makes sense. Experiencing such honesty and
openness, such a calculated exhibition of the human spirit breaks down
the barriers that people usually build up between each other. The simple line
“We were more than just a tour date, you were more than just a song. We sang
and sweat together and helped to carry on”, captures all of this.
Similarly, the Buzzcock’s song could be the single best punk rock anthem of
all time. “What Do I Get?” presents a question that is representative of
the true spirit of punk rock: not an unabating, nihilistic anger, but a
disillusioned frustration. The song doesn’t just tell of the anguish of
non-existent or disappointing love, but of being cheated by the world at
large. This frustration is particularly pointed to those of us in the
midst of our youth. We have been bombarded, in our short existences, with
notions of true love, of success, of happiness. We value these things, we
yearn for these things, but too often, we find that they escape us or are
replaced by cheap substitutes. We are left to throw up our hands, knowing
our impotence but also knowing that we won’t submit. All we can do is smile
and in a half-snarl ask “what do I get?”
Well, I thought that there were more components to the perfect song, but
now that I think of it, its just the two: the hook and the honest commentary
on human existence. I’ve spent enough time analyzing why I like what I like.
Now I’m going to go listen to some records and for at least two minutes and
fifty-five seconds, feel that all is right with the world.
As you recount tales of literature lectures,
of writing symposiums,
of ivy vines clinging to walls of ancient brick
opportunities.
I am struck by the fiercest jealousy that I have ever known.
Made more bitter by the fact that your words do not drip with gloating pride
(moist, perhaps, but certainly not dripping).
No, your words shine with a blinding excitement.
A taunting contagion.
A knowledge of what you love.
And a promise that you will have it.
Slumming amidst grease traps and deep fryers,
for some a dead end, but no, not you.
Last summer’s employment now a springboard towards world domination.
Your master plan sweeping across your life like plastic pieces across the continent of the risk board where we played last summer.
And I know
that you will suck the meat of life down to its wretched core.
And suck the marrow from those frail remains.
But I wonder
will there be any left for me?