this is pretty much exactly how it went.

i've been playing only happy music the last 2 days. so far this includes TOOL (only one of their songs depresses me, and it's actually a Peach cover), sublime (lots and lots of), strokes, gorillaz, dandy warhols, lake trout, cake, green day, cub, guns n' roses, sloan, and nashville pussy.

it's hard not to smile while enjoying some rockin' nashville pussy.

what else is happy music that's not crap?

i caught myself praying the other night. it didn't go far. i stopped as soon as i was aware. it can't possibly do any good at this point.

here's to the power and light within myself.

are you a deaf mute? give me a phone call, i'd love to hear from you.

it's not everyday you just happen to see leo tolstoy along the path to the parkade. leo tolstoy in the downtown eastside! that tolstoy, always with the working class ethic. oh, but this is gastown. i suppose an author of such eminence may set some boundaries.

i originally walked right by him, but then turned around and came up to him sort of nonchalantly. didn't want to seem like too much of a fanboy. oh wait, i haven't read anything he's written.

that calmed my nerves. so i started off by complimenting him on his selection of attire for the evening and how in fact i had almost worn the exact same outfit this morning. "boy, that would have been embarassing!" he stared off into space, unflinching.

hmmm. i thought it was a pretty good joke. i've used it a few times now. that's probably it, i've used it too many times. my delivery must be off. maybe. must be.

i asked about the rumour that the original title for "war and peace" was actually "war, what is it good for?".

he wasn't amused. at all.

i clenched my toes. errggh, i doubt the great russian novelist has seen that episode of seinfeld, or even heard of edwin starr.

somehow i made a clever segue to "anna karenina". i'm not quite sure how it went but it was something about awkward moments and anna's convictions. i was trying the learned approach since it appeared that 19th century russians will have nothing to do with humour. but it's hard being learned about anna karenina when you haven't actually read it. surely in one of those hundreds of pages, anna had an awkward moment! geez, how could you not in 19th century russia?

he saw right through me. i had to quickly avert my eyes, looking down at my shoes. he wasn't even bothering with me at this point. you write a few acclaimed novels and suddenly you can't even talk to people. jerk! i thought about the conversation brad and ed had in fight club, about which historical figure they'd like to fight. leo tolstoy was quickly rising on my list.

out of the corner of my eye i saw george washington climbing up the stairs, probably to take tolstoy away. i took off; i didn't want to talk to george. i've seen him around before; he's animated and effeminate. and the truth is, i'm a little scared of him. but it's the good kind of scared. except for that wig of his. for the wig, it's the bad kind. i'm sure we could be friends, but i simply don't want to bother right now.

besides, if george washington hadn't come, i think i would have punched leo tolstoy in the gut.

are so sexy...

{ more }

new daily diversion: thinkcollective. check past entries, cool stuff.

also, go look at the photo collages at nocommercialpotential.net

***

cuttingedge.org: "former satanist informs us that that government mall in washinton, d.c. was originally conceived as a satanic sephiroth tree of life."

***

do i talk about TOOL often? nah.

***

best advice of the day: "be sure to wear a sweater on those other planes of consciousness."

***

i love those wankers, toss-pots, and gobshites at popbitch.

yeah, there's been some doings a transpirin'. changed some stuff around, removed some of the :: bullet points which were starting to annoy me with the little arrows (which are already beginning to annoy me). but most notably, i installed movable type. which means you can now post comments. i'll be using them sporadically though, certainly not on all posts.

so i'll get all my survey/smalltalk done with the first comments post:

1. what book are you currently reading?
   
2. what album are you listening to?
   
3. 1%, 2%, or skim?
   
4. icq, aim, messenger, or none?
   
5. pepsi or coke?
   
6. quick, name 4 things on your desk!
   

yes. you can see these are exciting times.

permalink for last wednesday's tool splash page.

***

eviscerate

review of TOOL concert, vancouver, bc november 7, 2001

the grudge
maynard holds his scream for 10+ seconds. maynard has black face paint over his head and down his face, like a mohawk. danny goes nuts on the drums. also of note, danny no longer has the goetic designs on his drums, they were clear instead.

ions

stinkfist (extended)
the extra verse near the end:

caught in a trap, can't walk out.
because i need you too much baby.
why can't you see, what you're doing to me?
because you love me too much baby.

in case you're wondering, this verse is from the elvis presley song "suspicious minds". yes, you heard maynard sing elvis. i think i was the only one who knew that though.

forty-six & 2
i'm so glad they played this song. it means so much to me.

parabola

there was no parabol intro, they went right into it. too bad, it gave me goosebumps when they played it in zürich.

pushit (salival version)

devastating. absolutely devastating. my favourite tool song.

schism (extended)

maynard straps on a guitar. halfway through, mark and hannah of osseus labrint walk out naked in metallic bodypaint on all fours, cat-like, swinging their heads. pssst, i can see your balls. hehe, anyways, performance art is best seen rather than described.

jam session

this was like merkaba, but it wasn't merkaba. maynard, justin and adam are all crouched down playing their instruments.

disposition

mention this to me. watch the weather change.

reflection

hawk from tricky's band comes out and does freestyle rap/reggae. i think i liked the original version better. i just watched danny during that part. damn, the most talented drummer in rock music today. at the end adam plays the last rif for like 5 mins while everyone else leaves. nice.

intermission

osseus labrint climb up 2 ropes, cross-legged and hang upside down above the two screens. they then contort and move for 10 mins or so.

triad (extended)

starts off with danny alone, drum solo! but the crew has setup an extra set of drums (no symbals) and perry, the drummer for tricky, comes out and starts banging away. danny and perry are all smiles toward each other. very nice. eventually everyone comes out including danny lohner on keyboard, maynard (sans shirt now) still on guitar. osseus labrint are still upside down in the air. a great jam. the hippies at etree would have been proud.

eon blue apocalypse

the patient

opiate (w/ tricky)

what i need is someone strong to guide me. halfway through tricky comes out and sings some of his own lyrics. maynard also adds a verse near the end: "question authority. think for yourself. think for yourself." timothy leary is proud from afar.

lateralus

maynard thanks everyone for coming out, gives his speech about taking this moment as a catalyst for healing or inspiration and to create something positive. initially, everyone gathers around danny's set and then span out. a group hug at the end.

***

other notes

i can't believe i have anything in common with the vast majority of the people there. a lot of drunk and obnoxious people, and others in black who just look unbathed. 16,000 people there, of which 200 have steady jobs. hehe, i'm such an elitist fucker.

as we were walking out, there's this chic standing in front talking about how horrible the show was and how much they have sold out. i smiled. yes, i saw the hooker with a penis. he sold out long before you ever even heard his name. fucking dipshit.

still, an amazing show.

TOOL: vancouver, bc. novemeber seventh, two thousand and one, era vulgari era apocalyptica.

from the movie Rushmore:

Dear Max,

I am sorry to say that I have secretly found out that Mr. Blume is having an affair with Ms. Cross. My first suspicions came when i saw them frenching in front of her house and then I knew for sure when they went skinny dipping in Mr. Blume's swimming pool, giving each other handjobs while you were taking a nap on the front porch.

Your friend,

Dirk Calloway

e-mail from an astute reader regarding yesterday's post:

who ever sent you that insult must be a female who has been on a dry spell for years I suggest she should save up and pay you to have sex with her. Cause it sounds like she needs it.

it could be a guy, i did make fun of yoga earlier! enough with the hate mail. i don't even like saying the word "hate". remember, i bring you love!
***
i'm through humouring you and all out of cryptic posts, so here are some links for you:

vincent gallo is pretty damn cool. [link via one.point.zero]

In case you're wondering, this article - and Gallo's life, in a way - is about a question I ask myself often: whether it's better to live with the vivid discomfort of truth, or the numb contentment of self-sedation through drugs, alcohol, delusion, rationalisation, intellectualisation, religion; all those things that take the edge off existence and protect us from having to see ourselves too clearly

***

i always wanted a race track set when i was a kid. the one that went up the walls and glowed in the dark. i'd stare at them in the back of the christmas sears catalogue. never got one though. poor lil pindy. this rally racing game is fun though! [link via evhead]

***

nytimes magazine looks at how the simpsons remains the best show on television. while not as good as seasons 5 or 6, it's still miles ahead of any other stupid sitcom. Emeril, i'm looking at you!

***

also at nytimes mag, William Safire's On Language column. it's always my favourite saturday morning read.

***

sam draws tool lyrics: boredom´s not a burden anyone should bear. you should also order the exploding dog book right now.

***

speaking of tool, i'll be seeing them in concert this wednesday. i got floor tickets, row 8. sometimes things work out quite nicely like that.

"i know why you liked in the company of men. you hate women and they must hate you and your tiny dick."

wow! whoever sent that must think i'm a total asshole! really? awe gee thanks, i've always wanted to be an asshole! you made my day :)

i'll become a champagne socialist with a trophy wife. a brand new penthouse in the newly hip area of town. newly hip only because the poor were pushed out. this is primetime realestate. when i have important clients to schmooze at my tweeker pad, i'd give her a big wad of cash, smack her ass, and send her off to via condotti. an artificial, superficial trophy wife. a commercial life that can be bought.

it's gonna take a really special woman. or, you know, a bunch of average ones.

there was this one song i had been looking for a long time, since 1996 or so. i didn't know who sang it, what it was called, or even how it went. but the other day i woke up with lyrics stuck in my head:

"i know where i'll be tonight, alright"

google did the rest. it's wilco! that explains why i never heard it on radio or tv.