Love to you all. Just a quick note. And a few shouts.
First things first. All my love to the people on their feet in Iran. I wish them the best and I salute their bravery, their resourcefulness, their tenacity and their sense of justice. I am on the verge of sleep here in this American Night and I know this is a luxury you may not have at this point. Strangely, I am the one left feeling like YOU are dreaming for us both.
So be it.
That said, I'd ask my fellow fellows to keep their eyes wide and their phasers set to "skeptical". Lets take precautions to not be unwitting pawns in yet another game, Princes. Guard the sovereignty of your own conscience if you'd fight the disenfranchisement of another.
Good intentions are never good enough.
While its easy to plug into CNN and just stay there - I've been doing it a lot - there are better sources out there that are further removed from American hype and agenda. This Alternet article may be the best one I've read explaining the abuses of the electoral process in Iran.
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Under the arc of a weather stain boards,
Ancient goblins, and warlords,
Come out of the ground, not making a sound,
The smell of death is all around,
And the night when the cold wind blows,
No one cares, nobody knows.
I don't want to be buried in a Pet Sematary,
I don't want to live my life again,
I don't want to be buried in a Pet Sematary,
I don't want to live my life again.
Follow Victor to the sacred place,
This ain't a dream, I can't escape,
Molars and fangs, the clicking of bones,
Spirits moaning among the tombstones,
And the night, when the moon is bright,
Someone cries, something ain't right.
The moon is full, the air is still,
All of a sudden I feel a chill,
Victor is grinning, flesh rotting away,
Skeletons dance, I curse this day,
And the night when the wolves cry out,
Listen close and you can hear me shout.
Ohhh- No Ohhh-No
I Dont want to live my life
I dont want to live my life
Ohh no no no
A la table au café, maintenant, maintenant. I'm listening to The End of the Century, The Ramones' album produced by Phil Spector.
This thing is CRANKED right now, on the little speakers, in the corners where the walls meet the ceiling, above the painting of the pink bear and the loud girls who sound like glass and babies.
The speakers aren't big, but the sound is. Like a magician pulling a naked girl from a hat. It's impossible, but you want to believe.
The true fact is that listening to Joey Ramone sing "Baby I Love You" is as good as it gets. Anyone who considers this song any less than a revelation must be some kind of punk prude, unwilling to think critically for fear of his cover gettin' blowed. The truth here is that this is Joey at his broken-hearted best, singing his ass off.
My fave will always be Judy is a Punk. But this collection is a revelation every time I hear it. Kind of like Let It Be. Unbelievable!Another CD Phil Spector is said to have ruined. I couldn't disagree more. Having heard the newer release a few years back - sans Spector's contributions - it is clear to me that the man took a bunch of shining fragments and created a stained glass window: an iconic memento, filled with light, inspiring reverence. The memory of a mystery.
But this will always be my favorite:
Here's another one. The sweet Emily had us over to her house just before Christmas. We were eatin' hot chicken, cornbread biscuits, mac and cheese, and sweet potatoes listening to this. It's a wonder we survived at all. This is the kind of music that makes you want to kill a man that's wronged ya or love a woman that's done ya right.
There is no room for compromises between Ike and his wah-wah pedal.
Lately, this blog has been fortunate enough to host about 400 visitors a day. Thanks to all of you for your interest in Insomnia. When you can't sleep you gotta do something, no?
Le nuit est noir.
Le renard est blanc.
Le tigre est rouge.
Le sufrir est vanite.
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Explore this digiscape and listen to - and purchase - my new CD at your favorite online outlet. Also click the VIDEO button to watch the short film REvolution featuring yours truly on the soundtrack.
Be gentle in your sleepy hands on this world.
Be a killer in Heaven.
Sleepless Film Festival Presents - Close Your Eyes: The William S. Burroughs Film Archive Part I
Hustlers of the world, there is one Mark you cannot beat: the Mark inside.
-William S. Burroughs
Hola Chicas y Muchachos,
I have always enjoyed being able to include photos and other images in this blog. Along with hyper-links, these features take this publication passed the limits of cyber-doc to multi-media sinsation (not misspelled >:) ).
In addition to other new features coming to this site - in celebration of the pending release of the new CD Blue Turns Black - I am happy to announce the first of several upcoming film festivals that will be taking place right here at Insomnia. Sleepless Film Festival
Internet video hosting sites make it possible for the discerning cinephage (eater of images, see Godard) to curate any number of interesting collections, creating unique viewing experiences for weary travelers, horny monks, spent lovers and snipers suffering through a bad season of pink-eye.
I have plans for many such moving explorations of moving images in the near future, and am happy to present Close Your Eyes: The William S. Burroughs Film Archive Part I.
These films and documentary programs have been scavenged at various online locations including YouTube, Google Video and Altertube among others. I thank the users on these sites for their good taste and generosity. Their efforts have made this presentation possible.
Due to the plethora of WSB material available online, I plan for L'Hombre Invisible to be making several appearances as we progress through these festivals, hence the titular numerical reference.
William Seward Burroughs II (February 5, 1914(1914-02-05) — August 2, 1997; pronounced /ˈbʌroʊz/), more commonly known as William Burroughs or as William S. Burroughs from the late 1980s was an American novelist, philosopher, essayist, social critic, painter and spoken word performer. Much of Burroughs' work is semi-autobiographical, drawn from his experiences as an opiate addict, a condition that marked the last fifty years of his life. A primary member of the Beat Generation, he was an avant-garde author who affected popular culture as well as literature. In 1984, he was elected to the American Academy and Institute of Arts and Letters.
Burroughs is arguably the best satirical writer America has produced (his good pal Terry Southern not withstanding). He is also the most important post-Beat aesthetic philosopher, pioneering numerous explorations at the crossroads of occult ritual and artistic expression, arguing for magical utility at the bedrock of creative work.
Arena: William S.Burroughs
This BBC doc was produced for the Arena program in 1983. It features many of the usual Beat subjects. Although it is an earlier film, the Arena program is a very good one: funny and entertaining, erudite and engaging.
Highlights include WSB's appearance on SNL, a walking tour of the St. Louis of his childhood, and an awkward conversation between Burroughs and his brother, Mortimer, who bailed Burroughs out of a Mexican jail after William shot and killed his wife, playing a William Tell game at a cocktail party.
I gave up writing when I was ten, too dangerous...
- Peter Weller as WSB in Naked Lunch
David Cronenberg's superb adaptation of the "unfilmable" novel triumphs not by preserving Lunch's content, but by honoring its structure: a tightrope walk between a personal diary and a heroin addict's hallucinatory netherworld.
Listen for Ornette Coleman's saxophone in Howard Shore's suberb score, and keep your eyes peeled for the late, great Roy Scheider as the infamous Dr. Benway!
Bill and Tony
Part of a collaboration that added filmmaker Anthony Balch to the dynamic duo of WSB and Brion Gysin, Bill and Tony was made in '72 after the trio had completed the other Cut Ups and Towers Open Fire.
These films will be included in future installments of Close Your Eyes.
A humorous collage of image and audio, listen for the reference to "the Pre-Clear." This seems to be a Scientology reference (WSB was exploring it at the time) that is followed by what may be detailed - if obtuse - instructions for traveling out-of -body, a la L. Ron Hubbard.
Be humble in your sleepy hands on this world. Be a killer in Heaven.
Joe Nolan was born under a bad sign on June 13th in Detroit, Michigan in the last Metal Year of the Dog. Polymath, provocateur, inter-media artist, his tell-tale signs have turned up in music, visual art, journalism, poetry, fiction, video and film. A double Gemini, his interests range from the pharmacology of phenomenology to fly fishing; from mysticism to mixed martial arts; from Chaos to counting angels on the heads of pins. He has finished recording his third CD,
"Blue Turns Black"in Nashville, Tennessee. Click on
here, to visit his homepage and explore the rest of this site.
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