Mt. Holly Mayor's Office

All this new 'Green' bullshit.

2008-05-02T11:30:00.000-07:00

Thank you to Shell Oil for the 'DVD about how green you are' that came with my new issue of Seed. It went straight into the garbage.

PS: Because of your need to beat your chest about your green initiatives, the issue had to be polybagged, you dumb fucks.

Garfield Comics Minus Garfield

2008-02-26T07:00:00.000-08:00

Matt Pruett sent me a link to these and changed my perspective on the genius of Garfield. It turns out that the only things keeping me from enjoying the strips were, well, Garfield, Odie, and that she-cat. Reveling in Jon's lonely antics make my life seem a little less schizophrenic and for that, I say thank you Jim Davis. And, thank you Garfield Minus Garfield.

Happy Dre Day! NWA Explicit content only mix!

2008-02-22T07:47:00.000-08:00

Link

Perfection: The making of M. Gondry's Star Guitar video

2008-02-13T13:12:00.000-08:00

First the video

And then the making of;

Bar discovers smoking ban loophole. We are all actors and this barstool is a stage!

2008-02-12T08:17:00.000-08:00

BY JASON HOPPIN
Pioneer Press
Article Last Updated: 02/11/2008 12:03:29 AM CST

LAKE MILLE LACS - On a night when wind chills were expected to reach minus-40 or below, revelers hunkered down for a night of drinking at Barnacle's Resort, a popular winter redoubt for ice fishermen and snowmobilers on the north shore of Lake Mille Lacs.

Helmets and jackets were stuffed everywhere. A plastic kiddie pool full of crushed ice held red meat, which was raffled off throughout the night. Two tables of Texas Hold 'Em were full, and someone was telling the story of the night Minnesota Vikings fullback Jim Kleinsasser sat there - right there - in that very stool. Smoke wafted through the bar.

Wait ... smoke? As in cigarettes?

On this Saturday night, and every Saturday night going forward until someone tells them to stop, the owners at Barnacle's are allowing their customers to light up. It's not so much an act of civil disobedience against the statewide smoking ban as it is exploiting an exception that allows smoking as part of a theatrical production.

Read the full article from the Star Tribune HERE. (Warning Don Imus Photo)

Thanks, Brett Larson for pointing me to this video:

The Pirate's Dilemma

2008-01-16T11:47:00.000-08:00

Thinking about the Scrabulous issue, brought to mind this.

| View | Upload your own

Exploring the Mysteries of The Arctic Quadrangle

2008-01-14T17:51:00.000-08:00

Many of you know of my passion regarding the field of cryptozoology. What many of you may not know is that I've been lending some help to a group of 'scientists' who promote the exploration of our snow covered regions to uncover and prove or disprove certain paranormal activities unique to what has been dubbed The Arctic Quadrangle. Here's a teaser. For more information including Wallace A. Patton's treatise on The Arctic Quadrangle and a full color reference map. Visit ArcticQuadrangle.com

Dustward

2008-01-14T12:13:00.001-08:00

RIP - Dave Day. Electric Banjo Weilding Monk.

2008-01-11T11:16:00.000-08:00

Sad news. Dave passed away this past week. When watching this footage of the Monks performing on German TV in 1966, I'm blown away at just about everything. The structure of the song, the feed back, the vocal styling, the aggression, the fun, and damnit, that electric banjo. As a long time Minnesota Beat fanatic, I'm so sad when another of our ravers passes on, but am happy to experience him in action. For more info: The Monks

David Lynch is right. Convenience is the new quality. . . and that is sad.

2008-01-08T13:32:00.000-08:00

Thanks WFMU.

Bjork. Composer of New Lakota National Anthem?

2007-12-20T14:01:00.000-08:00

The Lakota Nation have announced that all treaties with the US are null and void and that they will establish their own country over 5 former Midwestern states. Bjork has a new song called Declare Independence. Both items were linked to on Metafilter within the last 24 hours. LINK LINK. Dare we declare coincidence?

Merry Xmas '98 from Tim and Eric

2007-12-18T08:41:00.000-08:00

Jan Terri Superstar!

2007-12-17T14:05:00.000-08:00

Today is a good day. I've been reunited with Jan Terri, and you know what? It feels so good. Back in the about 1996, my pal Quitty played these videos for me. I think he got the promo VHS because he was in charge of the distribution of independent music for K Records. I never thought I would see these again! Thank you Metafilter!

Phone Trips - Phreaker Audio from the Golden Age of Telephone Line Hijacking

2007-12-17T09:25:00.000-08:00

Back in the day, a small but extremely diverse community of technophiles figured out how to hack into the worlds's network of pay phones in order to talk for free and hold international chat conferences. They were the original hackers and there stories are incredible. From Viet Nam vet, Captain Crunch's exploits with a cereal premium, to born blind, Joe Engressia - a.k.a "The Whistler" later Joy Bubbles, who telephonecast his platform of Eternal Childhood Spirituality daily, and a couple of guys named Steve Jobs and Steve Wozniak. Interested in Phone Phreaking or not, these clicks, clacks and conversations are great background music to a day's typing at the computer.

Recordings of these pioneers' phone trips have been compiled HERE.

Jandek Radio Interview from 1985

2007-12-17T08:56:00.000-08:00

Despite recently beginning to play live shows after 25 years in seclusion Jandek remains an enigma. Since his first album, recorded under the moniker The Units, He has self-recorded and pressed over 50 lps of unclassifiable music. This snippet of a 1985 interview conducted by John Trubee, author of the amazing song poem, Blind Man's Penis, is a treat. For the full interview, check out the documentary Jandek on Corwood. Download a Corwood Sampler HERE.

4Q Conditioning

2007-12-14T08:46:00.001-08:00

Max Schaaf is responsible for some of the sweetest, no BS bobbed bikes on the road today. Case in point, this rake built for Scott Pommier.

I'm a dumbass for not hitting Oakland this last weekend to see his bikes in person. But Hell, I've never claimed to be anything but.

Check Max out at 4Q Conditioning.

Fix Pushers, Hells Yeah!

2007-12-14T07:43:00.000-08:00

Give the gift of Natural History Curiosities

2007-12-04T08:25:00.000-08:00

Sarina Brewer is back with great gifts for the holidays. For those of you not familiar with Sarina, she is Minneapolis' smoking-hot, rogue taxidermist. Her laboratory, Custom Creature Taxidermy, is a wonderland of Barnum-like proportions. From Coyote Paw Jewelry, to mutant suckling pigs your sure to find something for everyone on your gift list. No Shit. We're talking Capricorns, Frankensquirrels, Fiji Mermaids and Chimeras!

Visit her shop on ebay for holiday specials.

Dear Santa, I've been very good this year. For Christmas, I would like two chicks as once.

Gee Your Beard Smells Terrific!

2007-11-29T12:49:00.000-08:00

So I have a beard. I know it's a choice. But, damnit, I want to be able to eat a tuna melt or a burger slathered in BBQ sauce without having to smell it all day. I wash and scrub after every meal, but it still stinks. I just discovered that Gee Your Hair Smells Terrific! Shampoo is still on the market. Now if somebody could get me a few sample travel bottles of this amazing elixir, I'd be tickled pink.

Sonething for the Touts, the Nuns, the Grocery Clerks and you

2007-11-28T07:16:00.000-08:00

we have everything and we have nothing
and some men do it in churches
and some men do it by tearing butterflies
in half
and some men do it in Palm Springs
laying it into butterblondes
with Cadillac souls
Cadillacs and butterflies
nothing and everything,
the face melting down to the last puff
in a cellar in Corpus Christi.
there's something for the touts, the nuns,
the grocery clerks and you . . .
something at 8 a.m., something in the library
something in the river,
everything and nothing.
in the slaughterhouse it comes running along
the ceiling on a hook, and you swing it --
one
two
three
and then you've got it, $200 worth of dead
meat, its bones against your bones
something and nothing.
it's always early enough to die and
it's always too late,
and the drill of blood in the basin white
it tells you nothing at all
and the gravediggers playing poker over
5 a.m. coffee, waiting for the grass
to dismiss the frost . . .
they tell you nothing at all.

we have everything and we have nothing --
days with glass edges and the impossible stink
of river moss -- worse than shit;
checkerboard days of moves and countermoves,
fagged interest, with as much sense in defeat as
in victory; slow days like mules
humping it slagged and sullen and sun-glazed
up a road where a madman sits waiting among
bluejays and wrens netted in and sucked a flakey
grey.
good days too of wine and shouting, fights
in alleys, fat legs of women striving around
your bowels buried in moans,
the signs in bullrings like diamonds hollering
Mother Capri, violets coming out of the ground
telling you to forget the dead armies and the loves
that robbed you.
days when children say funny and brilliant things
like savages trying to send you a message through
their bodies while their bodies are still
alive enough to transmit and feel and run up
and down without locks and paychecks and
ideals and possessions and beetle-like
opinions.
days when you can cry all day long in
a green room with the door locked, days
when you can laugh at the breadman
because his legs are too long, days
of looking at hedges . . .

and nothing, and nothing, the days of
the bosses, yellow men
with bad breath and big feet, men
who look like frogs, hyenas, men who walk
as if melody had never been invented, men
who think it is intelligent to hire and fire and
profit, men with expensive wives they possess
like 60 acres of ground to be drilled
or shown-off or to be walled away from
the incompetent, men who'd kill you
because they're crazy and justify it because
it's the law, men who stand in front of
windows 30 feet wide and see nothing,
men with luxury yachts who can sail around
the world and yet never get out of their vest
pockets, men like snails, men like eels, men
like slugs, and not as good . . .
and nothing, getting your last paycheck
at a harbor, at a factory, at a hospital, at an
aircraft plant, at a penny arcade, at a
barbershop, at a job you didn't want
anyway.
income tax, sickness, servility, broken
arms, broken heads -- all the stuffing
come out like an old pillow.

we have everything and we have nothing.
some do it well enough for a while and
then give way. fame gets them or disgust
or age or lack of proper diet or ink
across the eyes or children in college
or new cars or broken backs while skiing
in Switzerland or new politics or new wives
or just natural change and decay --
the man you knew yesterday hooking
for ten rounds or drinking for three days and
three nights by the Sawtooth mountains now
just something under a sheet or a cross
or a stone or under an easy delusion,
or packing a bible or a golf bag or a
briefcase: how they go, how they go! -- all
the ones you thought would never go.

days like this. like your day today.
maybe the rain on the window trying to
get through to you. what do you see today?
what is it? where are you? the best
days are sometimes the first, sometimes
the middle and even sometimes the last.
the vacant lots are not bad, churches in
Europe on postcards are not bad. people in
wax museums frozen into their best sterility
are not bad, horrible but not bad. the
cannon, think of the cannon, and toast for
breakfast the coffee hot enough you
know your tongue is still there, three
geraniums outside a window, trying to be
red and trying to be pink and trying to be
geraniums, no wonder sometimes the women
cry, no wonder the mules don't want
to go up the hill. are you in a hotel room
in Detroit looking for a cigarette? one more
good day. a little bit of it. and as
the nurses come out of the building after
their shift, having had enough, eight nurses
with different names and different places
to go -- walking across the lawn, some of them
want cocoa and a paper, some of them want a
hot bath, some of them want a man, some
of them are hardly thinking at all. enough
and not enough. arcs and pilgrims, oranges
gutters, ferns, antibodies, boxes of
tissue paper.

in the most decent sometimes sun
there is the softsmoke feeling from urns
and the canned sound of old battleplanes
and if you go inside and run your finger
along the window ledge you'll find
dirt, maybe even earth.
and if you look out the window
there will be the day, and as you
get older you'll keep looking
keep looking
sucking your tongue in a little
ah ah no no maybe

some do it naturally
some obscenely
everywhere.

- Charles Bukowski

Hear him read it here>

No Coast Craft-o-rama - This Friday and Saturday

2007-11-26T08:14:00.000-08:00

No Coast Craft-o-Rama this weekend! Link

Merrill Womack-Christian, Pilot, Burn victim, and a hell of a tenor!

2007-11-26T07:35:00.000-08:00

I've been a big fan of Merrill Womack since my earliest crate-digging adventures in the early 90's. A basic overview: Womack created his own religious records by overdubbing his voice 40 times to create a full male choir. He would fly himself around the West Coast to sing and promote his records. One stormy night hiss plane went down and he suffered third degree burns over his entire body. He sand thorugh the ambulance ride and subsequent skin grafting sessions. He continued to record albums, run his own company, build a recording studio empire for many years after his accident. Admittedly, I bought the first album out of novelty, but after hearing him belt out his signature tune, "Happy Again", I found hope. Not through the Jesus, but through one mans perseverance and optimism. I hope that on this first-day-back-at-work-after-a-long-holiday-weekend he can provide you the same. And Thank you WFMU blog for this link!

Albert, TX (pop.4) Sold to the highest bidder

2007-11-26T06:59:00.000-08:00

My pal, Brian sent me a notice this weekend that a small town in Texas was just sold on ebay for 3.8 million dollars to a non-disclosed Italian investor. Shame on you Albert, Texas. Or more truthfully, shame on you Bobby Cave, who turned a community into a commodity rather than plant his feet in some good earth, shaded by a 400 year old tree, and own a little piece of this earth that he could truly call his own. You can catch a glimpse of Mr. Cave in this little video.. Warning: The video is appropriately sponsored by Blackberry: The pacemaker of choice for American douchebags. He's the tool, I mean "project oriented guy" in the cashmere v-necked sweater being interviewed over a couple of Grey Goose gimlets in a posh fucking cougar hangout, probably in LA. Sorry if I seem a little bitter about this transaction, but this short sightedness that abounds in our civic planning and spoiled-child real estate market is really starting to bring me down. I'm sure Mr. Cave is no less despicable than the rest of the speculators out there who have helped move this country, it's people, and our relationships to the world and each other away from creating permanence and meaning. Thnaks Brian, and happy Monday! Long live the disposable commodity. CNN Link here.

39 Never reprinted Kirby monster comics

2007-11-12T07:08:00.001-08:00

For those uninitiated, Jack Kirby was a legend in the comic book genre. He's responsible for creating many big name superheros. His brain also birthed a slew of monster comics that bent readers imaginations and furthered the plight of the everyman, in a fashion only found elsewhere in the episodes of Twilight Zone and The Outer Limits. Here, on Monster Blog, for the first time reprinted anywhere are 39 gems of Kirby magic. Enjoy. Thanks metafilter.

Bruce Conner Music Videos from the 80's

2007-11-07T06:42:00.000-08:00

I've seen Bruce Conner referred to as a Beatnik filmmaker. I first saw his work when I came across the video he did for the Brian Eno / David Byrne album, My Life in The Bush of Ghosts. The album and book by Amos Tutuola from which the title was lifted, are an amazing blend of belief and technology. Conner's video pulled from aged electronic instructional films really connects the two, delivering a very analog view and feel. One can almost feel the devout milling about as the electronic particles are manipulated by currents.

And he did stuff for Devo. Everybody wins.