E>C> Issue #13
E*C% Issue: 13
1/15/10
pog collection(click to download)
Hey everyone,
This week two short stories were submitted . The first is by a good friend of mine name Kyle <helyk@gmail.com> who left us all in LA this week to move to NYC to attend Parsons. For all you New Yorkers, if your looking for a new friend look into Kyle. Kyle has a blog that you can see here: http://bedsofnails.wordpress.com/ .
The second story is by my friend Rory <icerobocop@yahoo.com>. I asked him to write a little something on Jazz history because this is, after all, a music newsletter.
Oh, I also wanted to share this cool item that I found: http://cgi.ebay.com/BACK-TO-THE-FUTURE-2-REPLICA-GRAYS-SPORTS-ALMANAC-BAG_W0QQitemZ320434109822QQcmdZViewItemQQptZLH_DefaultDomain_0?hash=item4a9b5c7d7e
Its a replica of the sports almanac from Back to the Future 2.
<helyk@gmail.com>
Dearest Family,
I know that you all have been eagerly anticipating this day for quite some time now, and I can assure you that none of you will be leaving my executers office empty handed. I would like to begin by saying that you should not be saddened by my death. Even though I am most likely painfully burning in the fiery lakes of Hell, I have almost definitely gone on to a better place. My life was long and profitable on a biblical scale, but also agonizing and filled with disappointment. All the money in the world could not have halfway salvaged the absolute train wreck that is you: my loving family. While I hate all of you with a passion that would take longer than my will itself to describe in words, I am not so bitter as to not disperse my earthly belongings among you horrible monsters.
I will begin with my daughter Christine, on the off chance that she is actually here and not in her lair tending to her many bubbling cauldrons. Your mother would always go on about how you had all the potential in the world, how you could tackle any goal and become whatever you wanted. I always vehemently disagreed with her. I firmly believe that being found lying face down beneath the docks with your panties around your ankles on your coke-bender of a sixteenth birthday isn’t exactly a sign of promise. In spite of this, I am leaving you the home in Monte Carlo and everything in it with the exception of the dungeons contents. I am sure you would have made excellent use of these devices, but they have already been promised to your sister Ruby.
Ruby, you are a whore on an international scale. You have slept your way to the highest of positions, leaving incredibly powerful men crying like babies in your perfumed wake. There is really nothing else I could leave you that you do not already have gripped in your perfectly manicured talons.
To Katerina, my eldest grandchild, I am leaving all of my prize-winning miniature stallions and my collection of rare firearms. Your family members may strongly disagree with this decision considering the “accident” that took place last year, but you won a place in my heart that day. In my opinion, your cousin Sally was asking for that bullet in her leg. She is easily the most unattractive, vile person in the entire family. I cannot help but recall the day that Sally was born. She was sobbing uncontrollably, covered in assorted fluids and fecal matter. I thought to myself “This is definitely her mothers child”. Sally, because you are only ten years old as I am writing this, the only thing I can think to leave to you is my amusement park. Perhaps you could use it as a tool to trick some other children your age into being your friends. Beware, though, young Sally. That park is built on an ancient Indian burial ground. You might find yourself gliding through the sky in one of many thrilling roller coasters or enjoying a delicious puff of cotton candy when the ghost of a savage redskin comes and crushes your little skull with a tomahawk.
Ruby, your homosexual twin sons Bradley and Lucas are by far the most intelligent people in the family. Impressive gymnasts and top ranking students, the boys already have several spectacularly clever inventions to their names. Who’s day isn’t made easier by the brilliant long-range cattle prod? And what about the groundbreaking solar-powered endoscope? I am leaving you boys the Aviary and my gorgeous cactus gardens in the south of France. I poured my heart and soul into maintaining those gardens, and so help me God, if either of you do anything to harm those cacti in any way I will rise from beyond the grave and wreak bloody havoc upon you. I will also be leaving you my secret laboratories hidden deep within the Swiss Alps. Continue my research, boys!
Ellis, as my only son, you and I shared a special bond. I tried to mold you into what my idea of a decent human being is. For a while, I believed that I was successful. Your rise to the top in the world of politics brought all of our families horrible, terrifying secrets to light. The merciless hammer of the media reigned down upon us with awful force, bringing more shame to me than I could bear. I realize that such things are a part of your career and I do not necessarily hold you responsible.
When you were elected president of the United States, your mother and I were consumed with pride. It was a gorgeous ray of sunshine in the shit storm that you had created for us, and we couldn’t have been happier.
I never thought I would see all-out war on US soil in my lifetime, but here we are living in constant fear of the inevitable air raid on one of our many lavish properties. How you managed to upset the Canadians that badly is something that I will never quite be able to understand. You have single-handedly caused the fall of this once great nation. Can you imagine how embarrassing that is for your mother and I? Shame on you, Ellis. I am leaving you the villa in Greece. I’ve thought about it, and out of all of my homes, it is truly the most gorgeous one to be assassinated in.
Helga, my estranged younger sister, is probably not with you all today. She probably blew off my funeral just as easily as she did the entire football team after they took turns beating the absolute shit out of me back in high school. Oh, what wild times we would have. I remember when she got hit by a diesel truck while riding bitch-seat with some dangerous bikers. She may have been confined to a wheelchair for some time afterwards, but that did not stop her from hitting the clubs. She would wheel onto the dance floor and spin, roll, and glide the night away with the best of them.
Helga, if you are here today, I want you to know that I am leaving you my most prized possession: Gypsy, my twenty-two year old dachshund. She’s not long for this world, so she has to be tended to quite often. She’s lost complete control of her sphincter and her bladder is no better, but I’m confident in your ability to take care of her.
Sophie, my lovely wife, I often reminisce about the day we met. Helga and I were traveling through the Orient with our parents, God rest their souls, and we saw you kneeling over the starved corpses of your family crying to the Heavens in your harsh native tongue. One look at you and I was enchanted. We took you in as one of our own, allowing you to live with us as one of our many servants. The day of our marriage was probably one of the happiest days of my life. However, in my twilight years I have been wondering how things would have turned out had we not been betrothed. The world probably wouldn’t be the dreary, miserable place it is today. That’s for damned sure. Talk about unholy unions! You and I might as well have conceived the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. I’m not saying that I regret marrying you, Sophie, but I am saying that it probably would have been in everybody’s best interest. To you I shall leave the very company that allowed me to give this family the life of luxury that it has become so accustomed to. We are at the forefront of the luxury spacecraft business and you are the only one that I trust enough to take on the responsibility. I have also had a series of boudoir photographs of myself taken recently, and I have arranged for them to be sent to you when I pass on. Think of them as a little something to help remember the good times. Half of my entire fortune shall be left to you, as well. The remaining half has been hidden at the bottom of Loch Ness. Whoever gets to it first is free to do with it what they wish.
I know the exact time and date that I will perish. I’ve arranged to die about a year from now in Miami on October 30th, 2008. Miami has and always will be my favorite call girl. It’s costing me a small fortune to have her murder me during the throws of passion, but I believe that it is more than worth it. My loss of hair and inability to achieve the massive, powerful erections of yesteryear has caused me to think differently in my old age. Arranging my own death just makes things easier. My affairs are entirely in order and, barring any unforeseen circumstances, I won’t have to worry about anything. It is strange to think that not too long from now, some unfortunate soul will find me sprawled out on a bed in the Presidential Suite of some five-star hotel, wrinkled and naked as the day I was born.
<icerobocop@yahoo.com>
Jazz
Jazz, Jumping around zippity zap. This is what I wish Jazz stood for. In reality it stands for Jamming awkwardly zoopidity zoop. Jazz alone stands at the peak of awfulness in the musical world. Now we already know that all music is a waste of time. This is generally accepted and even taught in the more progressive schools of the world. Yet even with the truth staring them in the face, there still stands a group of emaciated morons and giant overweight diabetic meat heads who insist that jazz is a legitimate form of art. How is it that these idiots can ignore such a blatant truth, well it is pretty easy to ignore pretty much anything, I mean have been ignoring the IRS for years and years and they are still calling me. I wish they would just take the hint and realize that I am not interested in them like that.
Chapter 1: Jazz History
Everyone knows Jazz was started by the African Americans who came over in the slave ships. What they do not know is that they actually were not the first people to do Jazz. Jazz originated in medieval Russia. Back then the Russian landscape was plagued with gypsy troubadours. These gypsies were a huge pain in the arm the way all gypsies are. Back then the primary trick in their arsenal was to play music for people. They would always start with a good old classic tune about the motherland and then slowly turn it into god awful Jazz. The people listening would not know what to do when presented with such dreadful, dreadful music. Eventually the peasants would revolt and many would end up dead. The Gypsies game was to see how long you could keep playing the jazz before this would happened. The record at the time was 45 seconds, pretty good. Over time the gypsies died off and the world thought it had rid itself of that miserable jazz, but they were wrong.
Chapter 2: Jazz Returns
Being a slave is pretty annoying. But most people eventually realize that all of life is eternal slavery to a system of economic oppression which continually lies and cheats you. We all understand this and cope with it in our own ways, i.e. burning your mayor’s house to the ground or going through your neighbor’s garbage. There was a slave though, who could not deal with it. He sought punishment against his overlords and would go through any extreme to get it. Through a series of unfortunate and sexy mishaps an ancient spell managed to find its way to him. The slave knew that this spell would bring about an unspeakable evil into the world, but he was drunk and decided to do it anyway. One dark spring morning the ritual was performed and in that moment Jazz was reborn. Great just what we needed. That slave went on to earn his freedom and die attempting to swim the English channel. Some people say that his soul still haunts this world above the English channel as a punishment for resurrecting Jazz, but I am pretty sure that is just semi-large seagull. At least it looks a lot like a seagull.
Chapter 3: Usage of Jazz
The return of Jazz was at first mostly located in groups of African-Americans. They quickly realized that this Jazz was just disgusting noise but nonetheless found a use for it. The slaves saw that Jazz was the perfect weapon to annoy the hell out of their slave masters. The slave masters tried to repress Jazz but because Jazz is such a nondescript musical entity all attempts to ban it were quickly worked around by a new type of jazz. The whole situation became a lot worse when abolitionists started to try to use Jazz as a justification for freeing the slaves. All of a sudden a bunch of pansy white people were liking Jazz and encouraging its use. Like a wild alligator which you try to keep as a pet, Jazz eventually became too large for its masters to contain and started to eat the hand that feeds it. Eventually the slaves were freed but now black people had a new master, the Jazz music.
Chapter 4: The Hayday of Jazz
I don’t really know what Hayday means but I assume it is supposed to be as good as the day when they collect all that hay. The hours spent lodged inside barrels of hay, desperately crawling and gasping for what air I could manage to get, oh those were certainly were days. Any way with the Harlem renaissance and other such terms, Jazz had found its lair. By this point Jazz had become a full fledged social phenomenon. And as such, was now a complete waste of time like all phenomenon, excluding lightning. More and more people started to pretend to enjoy hearing a bunch of idiot musicians who couldn’t bother to memorize a whole song go on stage and flail at their instrument while shouting out a couple of beebops anddoowops at random intervals. However the more popular Jazz became the more dangerous it was to itself. Eventually it was no longer cool to enjoy listening to awful music because everyone was doing it. It is only cool to do things which no one is doing, which is why doing cool things is stupid. You should instead only try to do psychotic things, that way there is at least some destruction involved. At first it was only the hipsters and elitists who abandoned Jazz but the writing was on the wall. With each passing year more people left to go to slightly better musical choices. Don’t get me wrong their choices were still awful as the greatest form of music,Eurotrash trance, is still not a great choice. It is probably a neutral choice, like something which if you died and were questioned by Allah about your life, you wouldn’t avoid the subject, but you wouldn’t exactly rush to talk about it. Jazz was on its last legs, but it is still not quite dead.
Conclusion Chapter: The Future of Jazz
Jazz will never fully die out. All that is necessary for the existence of Jazz is for good men to do nothing. As such it is now our duty to fight back against Jazz. This miserable world affords no luxuries to us. We have a choice of either living like cowards or dieing like heroes. Will you stand with me and take an oath to do what it required to stop the spread of Jazz and all Jazz sub-genres. If not for yourself, do it for your loved ones (If you do not have any of those, then just buy a pet snake or something, god damn it do I have to tell you how to do everything.), do not let future generations be stuck listening to some guy playing Jazz and being forced to humor him and talk about how great his music is. Do not let them have to waste a moment or two trying to discern some sort of rhythm from the cacophonies of strums and bangs. But most of all do not risk them being tricked into thinking Jazz is actually good and wasting their life collecting records of awful music to play to jerks they meet at flee markets. You know what you must do, so go out and do it gentlemen. Its an ugly world we live in but just maybe it can become slightly better. I mean it will still suck but at least we wont have Jazz.
<mansi@mansishah.net>
10 Favorite Digital Archives (in no particular order)
1. The International Dada Archive:
http://sdrc.lib.uiowa.edu/dada/index.html
2. Folkstreams: A National Preserve of Documentary Films about American Roots Cultures
http://www.folkstreams.net/?list=1
3. UbuWeb
(check out the Fluxus film collection of Ken Friedman)
http://www.ubu.com/film/fluxfilm.html
4. Calvin & Hobbes Comic Strip Archive (1985-1995)
http://www.marcellosendos.ch/comics/ch/index.html
5. Archive of Gunta Stölzl’s work from Bauhaus Wiemar/Dessau
http://www.guntastolzl.org/Works
6. Garfield Comic Strip Archive (1978 – Present)
7. Folklore and Mythology Electronic Texts
http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/folktexts.html
8. The Digital South Asia Library
9. Arab Image Foundation
10. UNESCO Archive of… Archives
http://www.unesco-ci.org/cgi-bin/portals/archives/page.cgi?g=;d=1
now the MUSIC!!
<fangisland@gmail.com>
Jay Reatard- Matador Singles ‘08
http://www.mediafire.com/file/m2mnm3g3ymn/JayReatardMatador’08.zip
What a bummer…
Necronomitron- S/T
http://www.mediafire.com/file/rzun31jyynd/Necronomitron.zip
Providence Witch Core
<michelsam@yahoo.com>
Mooseheart Faith Stellar Groove Band – The Magic Square of the Sun 1991
psychedelia throwback, some interesting material on this well produced early 90’s oddity, dont miss track 6
http://www.mediafire.com/?mlmwzlckmjz
<carygeorges@gmail.com>
Jacobites- Robespierre’s Velvet Basement
Another masterpiece by the Swell Maps brothers Nikki Sudden and Epic Soundtracks along with glam-creep legend Dave Kusworth of Dogs D’Amour. Beautifully wasted popped songs in the spirit of Jagger and Rod Stewart’s The Faces.
http://www.megaupload.com/?d=OUUDNVAA
Here’s a funny music video of the Jacobites performing song called ” Don’t You Ever Leave Me.”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dWf8XGGgO6c
I scanned this week my entire pog collection and attached it to this email as a pdf. You can see it titled as “pogcollection.pdf”
<mikeheineman@gmail.com>
Snakefinger – Manual of Errors (!982)
Snakefinger gets more accessible on Manual of Errors. Greener Posture’s extreme angularity gives way to Manual of Errors’ less schizophrenic sounding songs. Holy shit, dudes.
http://rapidshare.com/files/261777505/Snakefinger_1987-04-29.rar
Felt – Forever Breathes the Lonely Word (1986)
Rocked this one a lot in 2009. New Puritan. Bennet called Felt “jangle pop + post punk” but that felt like a massive reduction to me because of how powerful some of Felt’s songs are to me. But anyway here’s the post that Bennet made in the wave, which is possibly a better starting point.. Absolute Complete Masterpieces is a Best of that leans backward, ending with their first single and starting with a late one.
http://rapidshare.com/files/212734433/_1986__Felt_-_Forever_breathes_the_lonely_word.rar
Felt – Absolute Complete Masterpieces
jangle pop + post punk
http://www.mediafire.com/?xn1jajaznml
Harpers Bizarre – High Coin (1967)
One song (a true gem) off of Anything Goes, written by Van Dyke Parks.
http://www.mediafire.com/?0tuj4nznwjt
<ahistoricalsociety@gmail.com>
Sadistic Mika Band- Self Titled (1973)
http://www.mediafire.com/?elzzmjwmxtb
Featuring Yukihiro Takahashi from Yellow Magic Orchestra, Japanese progressive super pop. Overly capable musicians having fun for our benefit
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Mz8enqM5o0
and a later incarnation
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cHZkF_VRHQs
Chris Britton- As I Am (1969)
http://www.mediafire.com/?ymjtxmyd5dz
Lead guitarist of the Troggs tries his hand at songwriting and singing on this album, all originals with one Spooky Tooth cover (Evil Woman, great song). Junky post-psych influence British invasion r ’n b with vocals that make up for what they lack in polish with exceptionally interesting delivery.
<daianafeuer@gmail.com>
I’d also like to offer a late submission. Here is Stitches by Alan Milman Sect. Came out in 1977, some silly and snotty lyricism, a christmas song, and a good jam for when you feel “so sad to have a brain.”
http://www.sendspace.com/file/3v4wmy
<www.theemailcollective.org>