Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Tuesday Night Clogging

Cat weblogging. Catblogging. ...Clogging!

Pet blogging (plogging?) is standard practice among several of my favorite internuts. It is not that I've resisted the call to inject my felines into the national debate, it just never occurred to me that their images could be helpful in the pursuit of peace and understanding between the peoples of the world.

And they most certainly are not. But I finally realized I can force their damp little shnozzles on the nations of the earth anyway.


Oscar! He's blurry because he's in motion. Where's he moving, you ask? Why...

Right here! Aiiieeee!

Hm...I really don't recall mail-ordering for an Eliza.
I don't have that strong a sadomasochistic streak.

And besides, isn't there a law against sending explosive
substances through the postal system?

True to form, Eliza exploded the final helping of salmon my love prepared for a dinner party all over the kitchen floor by nudging the baking dish from its resting place on the stove. I really shouldn't have signed for that package...

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Sound And Fury...

...Signifying, um, something! Because order from chaos is the alchemy performed by the callused but careful hand of the subgenre known as noise metal.

How do I know this? Because that hand has touched me. But not in a way that made me call for an adult (I have gangsta rap for that).

Using feedback and other sounds Deep In Vein has generated during our various recording sessions for the upcoming new album (more on this soon!)--as well as a few choice samples culled from freesound.org (best evar)--I put together a little something:

Letting this play softly in the background while you go about your business is actually rather soothing, it turns out; you can easily concentrate on whatever task is at hand and leave your subconscious to frolic through the peaks and valleys of the arhythmic sonic landscape.

It's kinda like Chet Baker for the tattooed, heavily bearded set...

Friday, August 21, 2009

Why I Love Her

If you've ever wondered, well, wonder no more. This is the question posed by a routine Facebook quiz:
17. Would you go out to eat with George W. Bush?
And this is my love's answer:
I would. I would pick his brain. It would not take too long. Then I'd try to cut him.
Isn't she just the sweetest thing you could ever hope to meet?

44: The Deformering

Eugene Robinson rightly concludes:
"Here's the least surprising news of the week: Americans are souring on the Democratic Party. The wonder is that it's taken so long for public opinion to curdle. There's nothing agreeable about watching a determined attempt to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory."
Observing the process up to this point, I would say the exact same thing, except with more exclamation marks, OMGZ, references to strange smells, and quotations from Proust.

There are some balls that desperately need to be kicked in this evolving situation, and most of them reside in Max Baucus's pants.

Notice I say "most" when the maximum number of balls possible in Max Baucus's pants--anatomically speaking--is two (2). By saying "most," have I forgotten all the hours from my youth locked in the bathroom confirming and reconfirming these two simple facts of the male physique? No, I remember those hours well. I say "most" because no one else on the left side of the aisle seems able to prove his--or her--possession of such apparently rare and precious stones.

Not that it's a mystery where the Dem's shriveled orbs of courage (-5 vs. Expected Attacks) have disappeared to. See that candy-colored music box over on the Republican side of the aisle? The one playing the chintzy, nursing home remix of "Sabotage" on repeat? They're in there, right next to a pack of C Street Foundation brand condoms ("hushed-up, for his pleasure") and Larry Craig's bathroom pass.

Still don't see it? It's that box right there, the one unceremoniously shoved under Chuck Grassley's desk, its spherical contents left undisturbed by the Finance Committee member since he clearly has more than he needs...

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Health Care Deform

I go away for a week, expecting that on my return I will be greeted with the socialist utopia my comrades and I worked so hard to usher in this past election day. Or, barring that, at least a forced confinement to a dirty hospital bed before being given an unneeded root canal sans anesthetic. Just because it's free.

But no. Instead, I find this:

Protest Fail
see more Fail Blog

...which is about as intelligently argued as this.

Rebuttal, anyone? Oh, well thank you, Rep. Frank.

Friday, August 14, 2009

How To Tickle An Autodidact

Sneak a fingertip between his frets and yell out a chord name.

I have so many musical concoctions whose structures I can't even begin to describe properly. This site promises endless hours of elated "huhs!" and "so that's what I was playing?!"

Woe be the neighbors...

In From The Wild

My love and I are back from not-New York City and I have the poison ivy rash to prove it. I'd tell you where, but that would mean describing this wonderful, concealed little spot we two found in the underbru--okay, it's on my forearm.

And now, pictures! (Click 'em to big 'em.)

Right over there is not New York.

Doing my best Viking funeral impression.

Chillin' by the swimmin' hole.

A big goddamn spider, also chillin' by the swimmin' hole.

This may surprise some, but this is actually a picture of the surface of the sun. I know, I know; "where's all the fire?" you ask. Believe me, on the day in question this landscape was close to combustion. I know this because so were we.

Cooling off by a stream...

...and making a friend. Admittedly, this "friend" was trying to figure out if I was
edible, but hey, I'm a beggar not a chooser. Besides, I
am edible.

Another friend, this one thankfully uninterested in the question of my edibility.

Finally, after our allotted number of mosquito bites and allergic reactions, my love and I waved a slow-motion goodbye to this:

...and hopped the train back to civilization. It was, in the end, a very nice vacation.

That way home...

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Getting Wood

My love and I are trekking into the deep, dark woods of what might be New Jersey or is probably just an outer edge of New York State, but is--most certainly and most importantly--not New York City.

For a whole week, no less. That's, like, seven days in NYC time.

If any of you get bored while I'm off wrestling mosquitoes, I recommend opening this in your browser and turning on the little flash player at the top to provide some background tunes, then going and clicking on every single link provided by this guy. Good stuff.

Y'all play nice now. Or, if you don't, at least try to keep any spilled blood off the rug.

It's a bitch to get vital fluids off that thing...

Monday, August 3, 2009

Los Grumildos, A Review

If I learned anything from the presidency of George W. Bush, it's that sometimes you have to go above the filter and take your message straight to the people. Cut out the middlemen of elitist reviewers from fancy Northeastern publications! Let the People decide for themselves!

And then let them write down what they think in a little black book that you can, in turn, leaf through over a glass of Pisco with your new Peruvian friends. Of course.

So, after taking your medium above the media, then having people use a separate medium to share their thoughts on the quality of your medium--could there be a more concisely worked referendum?--what, you ask, do the People have to say for themselves?

"Delightfully grotesque. Excellent lighting."
-- Very Discerning Anonymous Theatergoer

I do so enjoy a friendly pat on my ars...

Sunday, August 2, 2009

Gone, Baby, Gone (Updated)

My love is out of town.

I miss her.



Update: Okay, she's back.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

The Man With The Pan

Ever since we lost the "Also" From Juneau I've been exhibiting withdrawal symptoms. They say an effective therapy for former addicts is to give them something to do with their hands. Well, my love and I bought a digital camera.

And it has panorama.

The trembling has lessened considerably.

Hey, it's better for my health than suboxone or, god help me, finger painting...

DIV In The Park

Just a reminder: Deep In Vein plays Tomkins Square Park today, around 1 or 2pm, as part of the Unquiet Riot festival.

It's a short set, about 15 minutes, but there should be plenty of people and plenty of food and drink. Get buzzed on our noise then on a neighboring establishment's brews!