Caturday comes early this week:
Fucking dog’s legs.
Watching the Harry Nilsson documentary, for the several timeth time; and it is completely awesome in a way that a retrospective of a completely awesome artist may only be…
but there is a portion, where the murder of John Lennon shows up, that is where I get a bit irate. after the tragedy, he pretty much completely devotes his life toward gun control. And the people on the doc talk about how he wasted his talent in his anti-gun efforts.
fuck. Waste your efforts in gun control? That’s a pretty fucked up music-industry shit-head point of view.
Here is a person, whose best friend was shot down without reason, by a person who should not have been allowed access to a firearm. And he spent the rest of his life working to prevent that kind of thing ever happening ever again. And somehow, that is less meaningful than making pop songs?
Fuck That. Melt the guns.
Whoah. 20% year-over-year increase in Professional Errors & Ommissions insurance premium.
You know things are in Serious Shit Mode in ZombieVille when I am being out-blogged by Paleo, OBS, and mikey. Yeah, busy as shit. robotics startup, projects under increasingly pressure-vessel deadlines, and a looming vacay.
So. Turdwaffle HockSpit is now obviously NOT running for governor, but running for President. Dunno who is blowing smoke up his ass, but Jeb stands a better chance, which is none.
Anyway, Same-sex marriage is GO in Wisco. Even Turdwaffle is admitting that it’s a done deal. If only the judges had been as willing to pass on the whole Voter ID thing.
But no time for actual blogging about these items or others (like I went and saw the Revenge Of The Mekons movie TWICE during the Milwaukee Film Festival. And did I mention that the Milwaukee Film Festival actually draws more patrons, this year, than Sundance? And that the Amazing Randi visited for the showing of his film? Not to mention Joe Angio, who made the Mekons flicktoon. Also not to mention Jon and Sally from the Mekons) so I will just post some pictures of an afternoon’s worth of design time in a urban planning charrette that I was invited to participate in – third time in a row.
This is a redevelopment of a site connecting the urban grid and the residential neighborhoods of a mixed residential neighborhood next to an industrial and commercial corridor, working on revitalization of the manufacturing sites to support job creation and knitting the whole shebang back into the residential areas through a reuse of a rail ROW into a bike/pedestrian Green Artery, and reusing some industrial buildings into a Brewery/Bikery Incubator:
Of course, I included the construction of tilt-up artist loft live/work townhouses that I have been working on developing for an appropriate site – in my SPARE TIME HA HA.
Well, that shitstain James O’Keefe has found a way to make himself look even more idiotic:
It’s a rolling lump of straight up paranoid insanity. You have to watch it to believe it…especially when the dude puts a ski mask on, and then they say “nobody even notices the terrist!” And since nobody would play along, they had to have a little scripted interaction with terrible accents. And then, there’s bag full of rice that is labeled “ricin” and the big red ball of Ebola…. it’s a wonderful sticky mess of racism and delusion.
And O’Keefe, you laughable failure, it’s already been done, and far far better:
Jeebus, this guy is such an immense ignoramus with delusions of adequacy. Isn’t he supposed to be in jail for one or another of his illegal lying hijinks?
So, am I a sucker for the marketing arm of Big American Sucker Chinese Made Crap?
Yes. They have identified me as a target market, and yes, I am susceptible. Yes, Fuck Damn it, I am:
I also plunked for the Zombie Yard Flamingo.
But at the end of the day, I figure that this obsession with my brethren will only make you breathers misunderstand the threat, but also mostly misinterpret it as a Walking Dead episode, until it’s too late. So it’s all written into the Zompacalypse Master Plan. My undead brethren are nothing if not adaptable…
Re the Post Title. It is from one of my favoritest bands, and I am perplexed by the fact that BBBB knows people related to the band but has never seen them, when they are from his neck of the woods and play there ALMOST ALWAYS. Yes, it’s the Figgs, from a full album release of an old EP of theirs (Badger!)
The Figgs are one of the most awesome pub-punk-garage bands I know of. In a rational world, they would be playing at bars in every single city in the world; They would be releasing free albums on iTunes, because they are more true and devoted to the heritage and passion of the music they love than U2 has ever been…
I have often talked about this band that I loved since I saw them back up Graham Parker on a silly TV show, but in addition to GP, they exploded out of the TV in a way that made me insist that we see them at a small punk club… and they kicked ass in a way that makes you stagger. And we saw them so many times since, they are such great guys and they play just as extreme when it’s for many hundreds of people as when they play for me and Silent Mike and four other people and they are massively hungover….
But nobody gives a shit what I say about music, anymore. Oh Well. They are spectacular to see live, and that’s where music lives, ain’a? in live performances. I sit here, drunkenly eating grapes and trying to type this fucking crap in order to push the things I feel out onto this fucking Mojo wire and what fucking difference does it make? You still have to use mines to keep those stupid fucking dogs off the couch, and then try to keep people like Zevon from getting at the GOOD armaments.
I suffered the slings from a friend who went to see Bob Mould tonight, with Cymbals Eat Guitars tonight, because I bailed; but we are seeing War On Drugs next week with Califone opening.
And if you have never heard of those bands, you need to get your shit together and find some kind of suck-ass streaming service that hardly pays artists for their fucking postage, and listen for yourself…
No comment necessary…
I love that band. counting back, seen ‘em three times: twice with Westerberg sober, once where he was so drunk he had to sit on a chair for the encores, and Chris Mars was wearing clown makeup.
Closest they’re coming (so far) is MPLS.