No time for love, Dr. Jones.
This should be epic (and probably not be done today).
Intense concentration incoming.
So we pray. Bring on the Patti Smith and the Kurt Cobain. Gonna need all the classics for this level of focus.
Target: 1000 words
Written: 9100 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: The Sorrows Of Young Werther, Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe
Comics: The Boys: Butcher, Baker, Candlestick Maker 2-5
Music: Neck Of The Woods, Silversun PickupsMy niece turns seventeen today, which is insane to me, but that’s time, I guess. Time is weird.
The bond she’s formed with my wife pleases me to no end. You’d swear they were actual daughter and mother, except there’s no fighting, only a intense shared love of crafts, aesthetics, music, etc.
She and I bond over music as well, but she’s more of a Swiftie/Rodrigo/Roan girl and if you’ve paid attention to my musical choices, I am… not.
(That said, I actually don’t mind many of the new female pop stars; there’s way more depth there than there used to be, and they’re leaps and bounds ahead of their male compatriots. That said, I’m more impressed with T-Swift as a machine of longevity and Beatle-like clout, and I’m not really into Chappell Roan’s Amanda-Palmer-In-Pop-Star-Drag thing. If I want Amanda Palmer, I’ll listen to Amanda Palmer. Plus, that country song? I realize she’s the hot thing right now, so the critics all fellated the shit out of the song, but I strongly suspect that once they realize no one’s into it, they’ll crucify the poor girl for such a clearly misguided misstep that destroyed any authenticity she had in her brand.)
Anyway, happy birthday, kid. We love you.
Target: 1000 words
Written: 1535 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: Words For Pictures, Brian Michael Bendis
Comics: The Boys 25-28
Music: Money Will Roll Right In, Nirvana (cover, I think? Mudhoney?)I don’t care about how vapid and silly it might be, I fucking love AC/DC. There’s just something pure about the rock ‘n’ roll side of it (and they put on a hell of a show).
It’s like… innocent.
And not fake. That’s the thing about music. What draws me in isn’t really a catchy beat or cleverness or popularity – a song or band or singer can have all of these and be garbage.
What draws me in is how genuinely the band is into what they’re doing. It’s why great bands sometimes go off the rails by trying something pretentious and experimental, and simple, vapid bands like AC/DC can be glorious.
They are doing exactly what they want to do; they do it well. It’s clear there’s passion for the work there, no matter how much fluff it may be.
And that rocks.
Target: 900 words
Written: 459 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: Hunter Of Worlds, C.J. Cherryh
Comics: 100 Bullets 29-32
Music: The Rolling Stones, UnpluggedI’m not talking about the Bible (which, by the way, is bullshit, and anyone who’d actually read it would tell you right away it’s not something to be followed), but about personal revelations.
It occurred to me in the midst of making notes about editing for this ninth draft that I could be one of those people that has a repressed memory that they refuse to acknowledge, but which has subconsciously destroyed their entire life, and sent them so far off track from normal that there’s no real return.
It would explain a lot.
The problem is, I can’t think of any instance of that. I know my downward spiral began at twelve, when I was going through confirmation classes and I decided, because I am a completist weirdo, that I would read the Bible (so I guess I am talking about it).
Keep in mind that I’d really committed myself to being a holy little roller at the time, and I will say it again and again: nothing will turn you atheist more than actually reading the Bible cover to cover. If you’re not out by the end of Leviticus and its pro-slavery, anti-woman stance, then certainly, by the time Saul and David have committed their eighteenth genocide, you’ve got to be asking questions.
Anyway, that threw me sideways, because this was the dominant philosophical framework of the world around me, and if it was not only faulty, but downright evil, well, then, what to believe?
(The burgeoning alternative scene that came along around the same time didn’t help – thanks, Matt, for introducing me to INXS, Dead Kennedys and R.E.M, which led directly to grunge, punk and any manner of anti-social glory. I’m sorry I never got into Cannibal Corpse. Rest in peace, friend. I’m sorry it fucked you up worse than me.)
Anyway, this repressed memory. What if I’m walking around with one of these things dictating how I interface with the world through a lens of trauma I wasn’t even aware I had?
The world is spinning. Please don’t be a revelation. I don’t want it to be.
Target: 900 words
Written: 904 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: The Wishsong Of Shannara, Terry Brooks
Comics: Once And Future 23-26
Music: Unknown Pleasures, InterpolEvery once in a while, I like to go back and read old posts to see if I’m being a complete idiot or asshole or if there’s actual insight in any of them.
Reminders of when things were good or bad. Reminders that this too shall pass.
Instead, I’m finding typos and mistakes, like that classic MC5 song, Kick Out The James.
Because, you know, fuck James, I guess.
Target: 800 words
Written: 391 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: It's Just A Thought, Thomas Sterner
Comics: Ain't No Grave 3-4
Music: Unknown Album, Anti-FlagPossibly the most brilliant song ever written.
Let that sink in.
There’s unexpected depth there, in addition to being very catchy. The interplay between the upset, relatively mindless work of the Beach Boys and the severe depression and mental illness of Brian Wilson?
Captured in song?
Brilliant.
Good Canadian Boys as well.
We love them.
Target: 800 words
Written: 660 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: Grimm's Fairy Tales, Grimms
Comics: Twig 2-3, Image! 3-4
Music: The Undertones, The Undertones (Teenage Kicks, right through the night)Every time I hear him, whether it’s Operation Ivy, Rancid, Transplants or his own stuff, there’s just something so smooth about it. It hits me hard in the gut, sets up shop in the chambers of my hearts.
That’s the just way things are. That’s just the way it is now.
Tall cans in the air, motherfucker.
Target: 800 words
Written: 387 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: The Adventures Of Captain Hatteras, Jules Verne
Comics: The Crow: Dead Time 2-3, The Crow: Flesh And Blood 1-2
Music: Outside, David BowieI don’t know why, but every time Sledgehammer comes on, I want to get angry. It’s not that the song inspires that in me, it’s that, no matter what I do on my shuffle, it somehow manages to come up.
Like, every time.
I’m not that big of a Peter Gabriel fan; in fact, I think that’s the only song in my repertoire, and I think it came as part of a new wave playlist or something.
But the sledgehammer keeps returning, and it’s not cool, like the 80s TV show.
It’s just a bludgeon, one more little way for the universe to throw tomatoes at my face.
I am a Shakespearian actor playing poorly on an off-off-Globe stage.
And I’m not even in one of the good ones, or playing the juicy part.
I am the walk-on; the Sir Andrew Aguecheek of middle-class Canada.
Forever pursuing; forever the joke.
Target: 800 words
Written: 262 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: The Regiment, Farley Mowat
Comics: Postal: Deliverance 5-8
Music: Out Of Space, The ProdigyI think I finally know what it is that I hate about techno remixes of other songs.
It’s the missing emotion. They often take the passion with which a singer or band carries their vision across and chop it up in a way that isn’t the same as a cover.
If one covers a song, one has to connect with the music, find a way to tie it into one’s own emotions and then to reproduce it in one’s own inimitable style.
A remix isn’t about finding the emotion and finding a way to channel it; it’s a purely intellectual exercise in chopping up something beautiful in a way that makes it seem like the person wielding the axe is hip.
And if creating something hip is all you care about, then, well, you should just stick to generic pop, because that’s all you’re good for.
I’m not saying a good remix can’t be done, but more often than not when I’ve found one (which is rare), it’s because it a minor variation on the original or because they’re brought their own emotion to the party (either distilling the original into its ultimate emotion) or adding something particular (like a new rap).
Anyway, kids, remember. Art is about conveying emotion, not just showing how clever or cool you are. Music isn’t about the appearance of abs and tits and asses; it’s about tapping into a feeling and carrying it across, whether it’s joyous, devastating or silly, it doesn’t matter.
Tap that, and leave the abs for Instagram models.
Target: 800 words
Written: 466 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: The Regiment, Farley Mowat
Comics: Postal: Deliverance 1-4
Music: Out Of Our Heads, The Rolling StonesI just want to write Sublime lyrics, as I listen to Saw Red while I try and figure out what I want to say today.
Unfortunately, I’ve come to the conclusion that I have nothing to say.
Sometimes, that’s enough.
Target: 700 words
Written: 339 words, novella: The Mungk
Read: The Elfstones Of Shannara, Terry Brooks
Comics: Symmetry 8, Postal 16, Eden's Fall 3, Romulus 2
Music: Otherside, Red Hot Chili Peppers