'A game: say something. Close your eyes and say something. Anything, a number, a name. Like this (she closes her eyes): Two, two what? Two women. What do they look like? Wearing black. Where are they?In a park. . . . And then, what are they doing?
Try it, it's so easy, why don't you want to play?You know, that's how I talk to myselfwhen I'm alone, I tell myself all kinds of stories. And not onlysilly stories: actually, I live this way altogether.' -André Breton (from Nadja)
'So what are we to make of Kaká’s claim to be “in shape”? It is surely pertinent that the shape itself goes unmentioned. Triangle? Oblong? Dodecahedron? Or perhaps even mere blob? This could be the true source of Dunga’s unease. Dunga may also be wondering what happened to Crouch, of course. Three years ago, Crouch was a big threat – or was at least perceived as such by Kaka, as he was then – and now, pfft!, he is nowhere to be seen, Kaká meanwhile having clambered into, or been ingested by, an undefined “shape”. This would make any of us uneasy, so we ought not tsk tsk at Dunga for a wholly natural reaction. And we should mark well that not only is Dunga uneasy, he is bound to be uneasy. He has no choice in the matter. His uneasiness has been thrust upon him, whatever his feelings in the matter, by this claim of Kaká’s, a claim made, we take it, from within a shape, a shape of which we know little, if anything. You or I would, I’ll warrant, be uneasy.' -from Hooting Yard, a blog by Frank Key
Image is called Atomist: Jump Over by Gabriel Orozco, 1996 Mexico [more]
'Then right in front of my very eyes she turned herself into the confusion of free verse. Rhymes were made to disappear. Meter became nothing more than exploding potholes, surprising terrorist and motorist alike. One line ran over the next onto the over. Just where that line might go was anyone’s guess. The author, even those with the best intentions, had been shot to hell. Destroyed. Done away with by decrepit Frenchmen. Old and delirious Frenchmen who were so frightened by words that they never said all of the letters in any given word. Frenchmen who lived on the Left Bank in tight apartments filled with unsaid letters. Saving up for a rainy day. Blood on the poet. No one was left to stop the line from happening.' *
...And as she wiped my mouth with a napkin and cleaned up she sang softly to me. I remember it was sort of a tuneless, absent type of melody that one usually sings when they are alone. She was not embarrassed even though she knew that her voice was unpleasant. But of course no matter how beautiful the moment was the thought of her brother…and that horrible mangled hand…
...and that strange lisp that he always had...the strange way he had of breaking an egg. Even though I knew that Heimlich was hundreds of miles away and under heavy sedation, it was still hard to wipe away the memory of that last meal he had eaten. The way which he suddenly stood up and recited the Magna Carta and collapsed in a fit of weeping.
And I couldn’t help but think that Heimlich had staged the entire scene. But why?? He had everything a man could want. His paintings were selling. The new cottage was almost completed. The dairy farm was going well. And yet a sense of gloom and terror hung over the side of the countryside in those days. And Heimlich seemed too filled with good cheer, too expressive for someone as phlegmatic, and surreptitious, and deceitful as he turned out to be...
On his latest showScott Williams (of WFMU) played a track by pHoaming Edison called "My Girlfriend Rules," it was catchy-as-all-hell and I thought I'd play it for my gf (who rules). A search provided me with only this video medley, put together by one T.J.K. Haywood:
According to the YouTube page by WoodenThomas the three songs are from Phoaming Edison's "Feel It See It " album: 1. See It Feel It (Kavousi) 2. My Girlfried Rules (R. Stevie Moore, R. Nichols) 3. Maybe We've benn Loving Too Long (G.Nash, Flying Machine)
"James Kavoussi, the mind behind pHoaming Edison, is in a handful of other bands as well [Fly Ashtray and Uncle Wiggly]. He's clearly a bubbling well of ideas and the guy deserves to be a hell of a lot better known. pHoaming Edison's music runs the gamut between lo-fi rock and hard-edged, unyielding noise, but most of the songs fall into the infinitely more interesting grey area between those poles. Using a mixture of effects-laden guitar riffs, samples and occasionally improbable percussion, Kavoussi seems capable of massaging the most modest concepts -- a pair of alternating chords, for instance -- into vibrant and intriguing music." —Splendid E-zine b/w Silly Bird Records
