Shouting The Poetic Truths Of High School Journal Keepers

It's all Carolyn, Shakti and Sonic Youth today...

"I just come by to run you over
I just come by to see you quiver
You can come, you can slip inside, babe
Killer eyes and a burning heart, babe

Don't you know you need no other
I'm the man who loves your mother

Open up your arms to me, girl
Let me feel your wild heart beat, girl
Sweet lips, flowers and cream
Deep in love, surrender pink steam

Deep in love, you need no other
Deep in love, your lonely lover

I feel your wild heart beat
Lonely lover
Open up to me
Lonely mother
Your sweet lips are mine
like flowers and cream
Killer, killer eyes
surrender pink steam"

Missing Out

Scanning. Drinking coffee, fighting off the shakes while starting them...and that's not all I'm fighting off.

Saw Sonic Youth again @ McCarren Pool tonight - last show there ever.

They were tremendous, as always, and I actually caught myself smiling a few times, from the sheer joy of the music being made right in front of me.

REALLY smiling.

I took two good friends and a acquaintance. Took them up front.

Too bad about that pool as a concert venue...the best one in NYC, despite it being in Williamsburg, but still...

Lee's last words were "See ya'll in the pool." Poignant, but sad. Enjoy it, you trust-fund fucks.

You trust-fund fucks.

Two brand new songs, then the first song they ever wrote, "Burning Spear" and "Mote" which I haven't heard live in years, maybe ever...and "Jams Run Free" - Kim whirled. And there's nothing better than watching a 55 year old woman, hot as a silver rocket, whirl...

Tremendous.

They made/make me happy. I need more joy.

Then, "billiards" at The Cherry Tavern, a joint on the LES I highly recommend. Although the Jack and Coke was a little, uhmmm, weak. Not a pour that Chip or I would make, but fine for the evening, nonetheless.

NYC is dead. Labor Day Weekend bullshit, which I love. Not so great for the bartenders, though.

A bunch of email/text messages today. The NEW form of communication. Not permanent, but immediate.

Just like the above shot of Sara and the below lyrics from QOTSA.

Poignant, but sad, considering that it is all such a shame...

"You wanna know why you feel so hollow?
Because you are.
You're missing out? Well if you say so
Then you're missing out

Everybody knows that you're insane

You wanna know just how long you can hide from
What you are? Not very long
I have been lost. Down every road I follow
Out in the dark. On my way home

Everybody knows that you're insane

But I feel nothing. Am I better yet?

Everybody knows that you're insane."

Neon

Carolyn and Shakti.

At Chris' place.

Neon...

Blame The Devil For The Things You Do

Erin, Brooke and Beck...

"Treated you like a rusty blade
A throwaway from an open grave
Cut you loose from a chain gang
And let you go
And on the day you said it's true
Some love holds, some gets used
Tried to tell you I never knew
It could be so sweet
Who could ever be so cruel,
Blame the devil for the things you do
It’s such a selfish way to lose
The way you lose these wasted blues
These wasted blues

Tell me that it's nobody's fault
Nobody's fault
But my own

When the moon is a counterfeit
Better find the one that fits
Better find the one that lights
The way for you
When the road is full of nails,
Garbage pails and darkened jails
And their tongues
Are full of heartless tales
That drain on you
Who would ever notice you
You fade into a shaded room
It's such a selfish way to lose
The way you lose these wasted blues
These wasted blues

Tell me that it's nobody's fault
Nobody's fault
But my own"

The Archives Vol. XIV

The photo is of the band Goner from Raleigh, NC.

The lyrics are from Mr. Tom Waits, from wherever the fuck he's from.

"We sail tonight for Singapore,
Were all as mad as hatters here
I've fallen for a tawny moor,
Took off to the land of nod
Drank with all the Chinamen,
Walked the sewers of Paris
I danced along a colored wind,
Dangled from a rope of sand
You must say goodbye to me

We sail tonight for Singapore,
Don't fall asleep while you're ashore
Cross your heart and hope to die
When you hear the children cry
Let marrow bone and cleaver choose
While making feet for children's shoes
Through the alley, back from hell,
When you hear that steeple bell
You must say goodbye to me

Wipe him down with gasoline
'til his arms are hard and mean
From now on boys this iron boat's your home
So heave away, boys

We sail tonight for Singapore,
Take your blankets from the floor
Wash your mouth out by the door,
The whole town's made of iron ore
Every witness turns to steam,
They all become Italian dreams
Fill your pockets up with earth,
Get yourself a dollars worth
Away boys, away boys, heave away

The captain is a one-armed dwarf,
He's throwing dice along the wharf
In the land of the blind
The one-eyed man is king, so take this ring

We sail tonight for Singapore,
Were all as mad as hatters here
I've fallen for a tawny moor,
Took off to the land of nod
Drank with all the Chinamen,
Walked the sewers of Paris
I drank along a colored wind,
I dangled from a rope of sand
You must say goodbye to me."

Nirvana

My favorite camera.

My favorite gift to have ever given.

Old and obsolete.

But a workhorse.

And unique.

I identify with that...

Do You Like Me?

I haven't listened to Fugazi in a long time. After four hours of "Mad Men" it seemed like the thing to do for a good cleansing.

I love me some damn Fugazi.

"Your eyes like crashing jets
Fixed in stained glass
But not religious
You should pay rent in my mind
Say like the French say "Bon soir, regret a demain..."

Do you like me?
Do you like me?
Do you like me?
Do you like me, I guess?

White witness moves to petition the state of Virginia for 27 prisons
While in Bethesda, an office flaming, youth group singing
Firemen calling in
Lockheed, Lockheed Martin Marietta
Lockheed, Lockheed Martin Marietta
Lockheed, Lockheed Martin Marietta
Lockheed, Lockheed Martin Marietta

Do you like me?
Do you like me?
Do you like me?
Do you like me, I guess?

Step up

End of the lesson, time for one question
End of the lesson, time for one more question
I got a question.
I got a question.
I got a question.
I got a question.
I got a question.
I got a question.
I got a question.
I got a question.

Do you like me?
Do you like me?
Do you like me?
Do you like me?"

Listen.

The Archives Vol. XIII

It's weird when you talk to someone every day and then suddenly you don't speak again - really disconcerting.

I've got three people in my life right now like that.

And there's an emptiness there. Deafening silence. A verbal tumbleweed...

"Way to shield the hated heat.
Way to put myself to sleep.
Way to shield the hated heat.
Way to put myself, my children to sleep."

This is Lux from 2006. Porn star.

The Archives Vol. XII

For Lauren.

The Archives Vol. XI

Did a purposeful Newton-esque shoot tonight (for the first time ever) with Carolyn and Shakti at Chris' place.

Thanks Chris!!!

Anna did the makeup and it was amazing, very "Robert Palmer Addicted To Love" just like I wanted...

Thanks Anna!!!

Photos to come.

I'm beat up like hell. Really beat up.

Like hell.

So much that when this drunk asshole called Chris and I "cocksuckers" while challenging us to a game of pool, I used the "F-word" at him, according to the just back from Iraq bouncer. It was his first night, but shit man, no one walks up to me and my friend and calls us "cocksuckers" without getting a FUCK YOU back.

Like hell.

I may have been a little too harsh, perhaps. Indeed.

But NEVER do that to me without good cause.

Like hell.

The Archives Vol. X

From some website about Helmut Newton:

"Admittedly color blind, he once joked that his difficulty distinguishing yellow from green and green from blue was 'why I take very good color pictures'. 'I like the colors to be strong. I tell my printer that I want the photograph to look like a postcard, the sky’s got to be blue. The grass has got to be green'."

More news from nowhere...

The Archives Vol. IX

For the girl in Teardrop Park.

Thank you.

The Archives Vol. VIII

This is for someone I knew, once. I hope they will still be beautiful and okay, some day.

Listen.

"They're taking me down, my friend
And as they usher me off to my end
Will I bid you adieu?
I be seeing you soon?
What they say around here is true
Then we'll meet again
Me and you

My time is at hand, my dove
They're gonna pass me that house above
Is Heaven just for victims, dear?
Where only those in pain go?
Well it takes two to tango
We will meet again, my love
I know

If you're in Heaven then you'll forgive me, dear
'Cause that's what they do up there
If you're in Hell, then what can I say
You probably deserved it anyway
I guess I'm gonna find out any day
For we'll meet again
And there'll be hell to pay

Your face comes to me from the depths, dear
Your silent mouth mouths, 'Yes", dear
Dark red and big with blood
They're gonna shut me down, my love
They're gonna launch me into the stars
Well, all things come to pass
Glory, hallelujah

This prayer is for you, my love
Sent on the wings of a dove
An idiot prayer of empty words
Love, dear, is strictly for the birds
We each get what we deserve
My little snow white dove
Rest assured"

Nick Cave.
How do you rhyme "pain go" with "tango"?
One of our greatest living songwriters.
Really.
Enough said.

The Archives Vol. VII

Melvins.

Saw them last night at The Bowery Ballroom.

They NEVER disappoint.

"As a measure of the soul
Ever done run bring your fear
You and me, we got the same air goin'
Breathin' here
You got send to toad water, you been
Like someone left to cold half breathin'
Maybe me and the Queen could take another over
Walk it away, yeah

Oh little wish it away
I got time to wish away
Little wish it away

Head look about the free
Like a dumb mum bring a wheel
I might take the tee mind over
Load and see
I done kicked a hole wide lookin'
A gapin' half to free mind mover
Maybe me and the Queen can give a side order
Love it away, well

Oh little wish it away
I got time to wish away
Little wish it away

She don't hang"

Oh, little wish it away...

Indeed.

The Archives Vol. VI

"Throw all his trash away
Look out he's here to stay
Your mirror's gonna crack when he breaks into it
And you'll never, never be the same."

- Sonic Youth

The Archives Vol. V

Kicking garbage tonight, and the red wall by the pool table and everything else - all on video, apparently...

Beck makes me happy right now, and SOMETHING needs to make me happy right now.

From "Guero." Not a masterpiece like "Modern Guilt," but better than most music.

"I saw her, yeah I saw her with her black tongue tied
Round the roses
Fist pounding on a vending machine
Toy diamond ring stuck on her finger
With a noose she can hang from the sun
And put it out with her dark sunglasses
Walking crooked down the beach
She spits on the sand where their bones are bleaching
And I know I'm gonna steal her eye
She doesn't even know what's wrong
And I know I'm gonna make her die
Take her where her soul belongs
And I know I'm gonna steal her eye
Nothing that I wouldn't try

Hey, My sun-eyed girl

I saw her, yeah I saw her with her hands tied back
And her rags were burning
Crawling out from a landfilled life
Scrawlin her name upon the ceiling
Throw a coin in a fountain of dust
White noise, her ears are ringing
Got a ticket for a midnight hanging
Throw a bullet from a freight train leaving
And I know I'm gonna steal her eye
She doesn't even know what's wrong
And I know I'm gonna make her die
Take her where her soul belongs
And I know I'm gonna steal her eye
Nothing that I wouldn't try"

Hey, My sun-eyed girl"

The Archives Vol. IV

I can't sleep.

When I was fifteen, my Mother said to me, "When are you going to go to sleep, James?"

At forty-three, I still don't know.

But the night looks beautiful.

Remember who you are.

The Archives Vol. III

Nothing more, nothing less...

More From The Archives

Stoya.

She's in Los Angeles now, and making quite the name for herself.

In porn.

The Radio Plays Methamphetamine Blues...

"Rolling just to keep on rolling...
Rolling just to keep on rolling...
I don't wanna leave this heaven so soon."

Been looking through the archives for the last 12 hours. Good stuff, embarrassing stuff. Stuff.

Thinking of you. "You." - you.

And I've been listening to the radio and Iggy Pop all day (thanks to my pal Mark - see link at the right...)
Thanks, Mark. Iggy always saves me.
He is THE TRUTH.

"From my fingertips, the cigarette throws ashes to the ground."

Mark Lanegan.

From the archives:
Domo Victoria. Some of you may remember the self-portrait I did with her.

If you don't, I don't give a fuck. I'd much rather be sitting at my kitchen table with my girl. Because this is not real. Sitting at my kitchen table with my girl...was...

It's a Sorry State of Affairs Around Here, Baby Kitty...

...a sorry state of affairs.

Nothing's right...

the truth.

Eulogy

"Love, there are flowers hanging in the vine
So high you cannot see
Now, my mind must go on holiday, torn from it's hook, a broken valentine
I see the smoke from a revolver, will I get hit, I hardly care
When I'm bombed, I stretch like bubblegum
And look too long straight at the morning sun
Love, there are flowers along the avenue, all things perfectly in place
I build a shrine
I set a monument
Because you're fire
Because you're a fire escape."

Mark Lanegan. My poet for the night.

I decided to come back, just for now.

x

And With That, I'm Taking a Break...

I'm looking for JOY.

It's gone.

I'll be back when I find it.

And not a minute before.

Shooting Naama, from last night was the closest I've gotten in a long time.

I need more JOY.

Goodnight.