Friday, November 26, 2010

Television adventures LP tribute

The seminal but murky and evocative early punk / new wave album (though it's really closer to British psychedelic-poetic prog-rock ) Television "Adventure"  was a beloved artifact and huge influence for what I have done in my own musical career, currently embodied in Str8 Sounds.


Up on the high, high hills - with my floating friend -
Watchin' all the silver - no one can ever spend
I feel the touch of her hand and all it will erase;
These footprints I followed tho they followed my every pace -
Days, be more than all we have.
No matter how much I cross I always see the same stream.
I'm standing up on these bridges that are standing in a dream.

"Days" is one of the most beautiful songs in music history, while "Ain't That Nothin'" and "Glory" are among the most triumphant. "Foxhole" is weirdly allegorical, if not downright mystical.


I was out stumbling in the rain staring at your lips so red
You said, "'Blah, blah, blah" you got a pillow stuck in your head"
How could I argue with a mirror
She looked at me. Yes, I hear her.
When I see the glory, I ain't gotta worry

She said, "There's a halo on that truck, won't you please get it for me?"
I said, "Of course my little swan, if ever and ever you adore me."
She got mad. She said, "you're too steep."
She put on her boxing gloves and went to sleep -
When I see the glory
 I ain't got no worries.


Soldier boy stands at a full salute.
He wants your orders to execute.
Send him out - 'neath the screaming red lights
In a narrow ditch for the funny fights.

Foxhole, foxhole Too much danger
Foxhole foxhole Where's my guardian angel
Foxhole foxhole - oh no
You show me the war, I don't know what for.
You show me the war, but the war 's such a bore.

In the line of duty, in the line of fire
A heartless heart is my proper attire.
Foxhole foxhole Too much danger
Foxhole foxhole Where's my guardian angel?
Foxhole foxhole - oh no
The flashing sword has been explored.
The perfect slice, perfect slice of life.

I feel the shells hit, moonlight web
Goodbye, arms. So long, head.
Foxhole foxhole
No more danger
Foxhole foxhole
Hello guardian angel.

Pin me down, go ahead it's a cinch
You pin me down, you'll feel the pinch
I was trained for fights
Foxhole, foxhole
Foxhole, foxhole.

The entire album, in fact both of them, original and tribute, stand as an enduring work of anthemic rock music art, a collection of prime poetry and sound by modern minstrels, a timeless monument, radiating a profound immaterialism in the heart of nitty gritty rat holes, much like their namesake, the cathode ray tube box.

This "L'aventure" tribute is like "Adventure 2.0" -- for it is a perfect companion, and not a replacement for, the original album by Television. You'll want them both, playing one after the other, for a long long time.


I jump out of bed and pull down the shade
I used to have such sweet dreams - now it's more like an air raid.
I see the opposition clear - I see them stare
I don't care - it doesn't matter to me - I never think about it
Slip out of myself like a shadow and somersault thru walls
I can't tell, it's really so odd
Is this spring or fall?
Your wine is just sour grapes
Pour me a glass anytime I'm not there
Careful Careful
I'm not bitter I just get so sore
I need that girl more and more
Cuz when she whispers in my ear it gets so hard
It get's so hard to get out of bed
It's more than I can do.
If someone must work today, let it be you.
All this confusion hit me like a dare, but I don't care.

Greatly treasured by the discerning elite, "Adventure" is often neglected by current critics, though it remains a glittering street-nomad gem. Generated by a pioneering NYC band around the time of Patti Smith, The Ramones, Max's Kansas City -- Television's "Adventure" has now been resurrected in spirit.


The elevator called me up.
She said you better start making sense.
The stone was bleeding, whirling in the waltz.
I went to see her majesty. The court had no suspense.
She said, "Dream dreams the dreamer."
I said it's not my fault.''

"Adventure", Television's second and last official album, was just as good, if not better than, their highly acclaimed first album "Marquee Moon" (how often does that happen?). It has now been re-done by some excellent Los Angeles bands. They have great charm and their respect and awe for this mighty work of art can be heard in their crepuscular renditions.


The snow fell lightly and disappeared.
I felt the old ropes grow slack.
I thought I'd dissolve
when the beacon revolved.
I just get so carried away.
Once I had a ship, yes I had a map
I had the wind like a tree has sap
I sank into these banks of clay
I get carried
Those rooms were freezing and always dark
but where we were never mattered
Your head was golden
There was lightning in your arms
and then the glass shattered.
It was noon at midnite.
The day that never ends -
The lamp it whispers and makes amends -
everything was more than I took it for.
I got carried away.

Beautiful, dreamy, eerily phantasmic recordings of major musical artistry -- "Aquarium Drunkard Presents L'aventure" is a new work of beauty to honor a classic work of mystery. You could think of them as smooth-rolling, easy-listening versions, but they don't stray too far from the misty pulsations underbulwarking strings of Lower East Side operations of French symbolist poetry.


Storms all that summer we lived in the wind,
out in some room in the wind,
Your hands they were folded.
You knew no demands.
My tongue, it clattered like tin,
My eyes repeat. They take my seat.
Your eyes they say you resigned from the heat.
We leaned in the cold, holding our breath,
watching the corners turn corners.
Coins on the table, the cards in the air,
the face at the window kept smiling.
Storms all that winter we stayed locked away.
Waiting. Watching. Falling.
End of the street. Horizon retreats.
You ran with it. I wish I could.
Sleep is not sleep. My eyes repeat.
You take the voltage that watches you weep.
You caught the voice. I listen close.
All I heard was the echoes.
Praise emptiness.
Her rose-colored dress.
Her circling motions.
Praise emptiness.
Everything scattered, nothing was missed.
We took our house in the fire.


You're pushin' a furnace
You're workin' too hard
You're setting things off -
all over the yard
You play with your 'top' -
till your eyes start to spin
Then you shrug your shoulders
and ask me where I've been
Travel fulfills you but
the distance it kills you
Oh oh ain't that nothin'
Why don't you tell me somethin'
Ain't that nothin'
I just wish you'd tell me something -
The fan keeps whirling
The wind stays hot -
but I can't keep from slippin' a lot
I look in that purse
It's a blessing and a curse
Discover dishonor with
its thousand commands
It ain't worth a shot
That target is sand
But I love disaster and
I love what comes after.

A great tribute and a nice introduction to the original material and Tom Verlaine's exciting underground art-rock ensemble. Generally the songs are a bit softer, with lush, evocative arrangements that make the songs sparkle in delightful new shimmerings.

Get a free zip file of the mp3s at Aquarium Drunkard "Television's Adventure Reimagined"

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

JIB JAB Thanksgiving Cranberry Slaughter VIDEO

Jib Jab "Thanksgiving Cranberry Slaughter"

First Thanksgiving with Sean Connery VIDEO

Blame Society Films "Bric A Brac: The First Thanksgiving"

Christopher Walken, Sean Connery, Dr. Phil, and John Madden land in the new world with the rest of the pilgrims. They must decide whether to give thanks for it, or completely annihilate it...

Monday, November 22, 2010

TSA Hustle don't touch my junk VIDEO

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Health Ranger "TSA Hustle: Don't Touch My Junk"

SEE ALSO ... my full photo essay on TSA Gestapo tactics and the dangers of skin cancer from backscatter X ray machines:

"Airport Full Body Pat Downs and X Ray Scanners"

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Hartley 2 Comet as Rock Star

He came down from heaven, this shining projectile, the Hartley 2 comet.

Comet or UFO? A space ship passing by? Scientists are already talking about its structure seeming to be two objects "fused together". Will we ever be able to interview the engineers who performed this feat?

If we assume Hartley 2 is moving from right to left in the photo above, those light emissions in the tail end of the craft would be the propulsive apparatus jettisoning some super-advanced form of exhaust and ballistic force vectors, to propel the rocket and its crew along their way.

The side lights on the craft are the ship's high-velocity spectrum blasters, keeping it in an elliptical orbit, rather than shooting forward in a straight line, off into outer space, escaping the Milky Way and trespassing on forbidden territory, arousing furious gyrations and angry apogees of protest by assorted intra-galactic objects and high-ranking foreign (non-Milky Way) star assemblages.

Whatever it was, it was a rock star.

Everyone saw its picture in the paper and on the screens. Never before has a comet been so candid and transparent. Hartley 2 stole our hearts and breezed on by without bidding us a farewell or a see you later.

But it kissed our camera with an image that shocks and satisfies, educates and mystifies. If only we could hitch a ride.

Watch the Hartley 2 short film. (.MOV file)

Here is a success to emulate, a mighty being, a self-contained robust module, on a joy ride around the galaxy, without a care in the world.

The turkey leg missle. Hartley 2. We miss you already. You rode into town, then vanished off into the distance again. What do you see out there? What stories could you tell?

This year's return of comet Hartley 2 is freaked out awesomeness.

The comet can't be stopped.

We were unable to capture it for nomadic analysis, as it rips through our plasma nets like they were cotton candy.

The doggone thing has made its perihelion passage on October 28th, 2010, having passed at a distance of 18 million kilometres from the Earth on October 20th. This has been badass Hartley2's  nearest approach to the Earth since its discovery in 1986 and by far its closest approach in the next century.

Comet Hartley 2 flew by us, laughing at our sophisticated instruments and education, at 16.4 million kilometers from Herschel on October 20th, providing a chance to thumb our noses at him and impudently gather a bunch of rather, um,  sensitive measurements, which were gentlemanly, for example they were very considerate and graciously complementary to the observations from EPOXI and other secret space spying facilities.

Rumors that Hartley 2 is not a comet, but rather obviously a spaceship from another, more advanced and artistic civilization, have gone uncontested, as scientists scramble to absorb the new information and hold conferences about it so as to more effectively spin out the academically correct version of the themes contained within the collected data.

PHOTO ABOVE: Comet Hartley 2 as seen by Herschel/PACS. This processed image was taken with PACS on October 25th, 2010, in its "blue" channel (70 micrometer), ten days before the EPOXI's Encounter phase, with a distance between Herschel and comet Hartley 2 of 17.5 million km. The Sun symbol and arrow indicate the projected direction towards the Sun.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Bern Porter and Unintentional Art

Is a novelist a novelist because others consider him a novelist, because he has published novels and is embraced by other novelists as one of their own?

Or is a novelist simply one who contains and expresses his creativity in novels? How about if they're never published or never even written, but remain in the imagination? Is it enough to think a novel, or do you have to scribble down somewhere?

Does a sonata exist in the composer's mind as a sonata, or is it not a sonata until someone else hears it or reads the score?

Where do we draw the line? What makes an artist an artist? What makes art something other than non-art? Being non-utilitarian and extraordinary in design?

When we strictly define "art" and "artist", according to some whimsy of Mind as it attempts to differentiate, categorize, and understand, we arbitrarily negate much that is existing artistically without being labeled or "considered" such.

One would think that after Adorno, critics would no longer define art by what men called art in ages past, but would evaluate items according to their inner necessity and external impact on an audience.

Today we look at Unintentional Art and the Artist's Intentions.

"If I'm humming or whistling it, it's music," the composer said.

"If I'm reading a long story, it's a novel," the reader replied.

"I paint, therefore I am...a painter," the painter explained.

What about that splotch of color, the result of rain on iron, is it a "painting"? What if the image attracts the eye and pleases it? Those clouds above in the sky: are they white and grey vapor paintings in motion against a blue backdrop?

Intentionalism states that a novelist is someone who has decided to write something and he calls that something a novel and it resembles, to some degree, other novels that exist and are referred to as "novels".

Unintentionalism states that randomly occurring images, non-self-aware constructions, accidental art that does not think of itself as art, is not presented or packaged as art, that may not even have an identifiable artist as cause and holder of intellectual property rights over it, may still be Art.

We've all seen it.

You're walking along, and something colorful, beautiful, glittering catches your attention. You bend toward it to get a better, a closer view. You reach for it, to pick it up...then draw back, repulsed.

It was just a mutilated toy, apparently chopped up by some lawnmower, a headless action figure, a plastic playtime hero, with bright clothing, shining garments, a radiant uniform.

For a moment, until you knew what it was, that lump of plastic was, for you, an object of art.

Bern Porter called these stumbled upon (and sometimes re-assembled) items "Founds".

He assembled scraps of text and discarded photos into collages and called them art ("something to look at").

You may view a large number of selected Bern Porter "Founds" at Ubu Web, from the MOMA (Museum of Modern Art, NYC) collection.

Back when I was about 13 years old, I used to cut comic strips out of the Sunday newspaper, then glue them into a notebook in a Dada manner, mixing up the narrative, forcing things out of context, artistic mayhem and creative contortions.

But who is the artist, Bern or me? Or both? Or neither? Mind, which rests in categorical constructions, wants to know!

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Jacques Derrida defines deconstruction VIDEO

Jacques Derrida "Derrida Defines Deconstruction"

Friday, November 12, 2010

Blogocombat Against Anonymous Internet Trolls

I have criticized Tech Crunch and many other blogs for allowing anonymous comments, and a recent experience confirms my position.

Anonymous comment posters add nothing to a discussion. They only detract from serious online conversations.


Because, hiding in the shadows, one can say anything. There's no accountability, no retaliation, no sense of responsibility. Say whatever you want. Nobody knows who you are. Nobody can go to your blog and confront you, or start a debate in one of your topic threads.

Anonymous comment posters like to troll blogs and social networks, picking fights, stirring up trouble, trying to make others look bad.

When you accuse them of being anonymous cowards, they act like you're just being too technical about rules, netiquette, and common decency. They will never reveal themselves, because they're afraid of what might happen.

Since internet trolls have no reason to be polite, factual, or logical, they can have fun with accusations, slander, misinformation, racism, sexism, homophobia, lies, and abusive language. Because nobody knows who they are.

Trolls are frightened by technology and rigorous argumentation. They're afraid of looking stupid. They don't want their friends laughing at them when they're defeated by a forceful and highly skilled debate opponent.

They like to try to cause trouble in an online community, make wild statements, then withdraw back into the caves of their ignorance and insecurity. Anybody can sound tough when they're invisible and nameless  and their whereabouts are unknown.

Anonymous trolling, flaming, and slurring is their only method for being bold and outspoken. Face to face, they would wilt and wither away. Anonymous comments make them feel big and strong. They make their buddies laugh. They hope to make you angry.

They don't understand that text on the web is just text on the web, there's no reason to register any emotional response to it whatsoever. The blogosphere is a cold, indifferent medium, where nothing is necessarily what it seems to be. Praise and criticism are equally ephemeral, unsubstantial, inconsequential to a hardcore blogocombat veteran.

Anonymous trolls may not even be smart enough to create their own blog. Most of them seem technically deficient, as well as mentally backward.

Anonymous trolls don't deserve to be heard.

Anonymous trolls have no legit reason to say anything in the blogosphere.

We don't care about their opinions. They're irrelevant. Maybe someday they'll put their big boy pants on and fight like a man. Until then, they will be ruthlessly flamed or tiresomely ignored, depending on how much coffee I've had that particular day.

When someone posts a comment, and embeds a link to their blog in their name, and their blog gives their real name, then they have some credibility. Without that, their remarks in forums, blogs, and social networks are just empty nonsense by a nobody who is nowhere.

"Don't feed the trolls" is a common saying. It means: "ignore anonymous flamers". This is good advice.

However, as a Social Media Strategist, I occasionally will engage in a brief skirmish with trolls, just to show other, legit comment posters and readers, what's going on and how to expose them.

EXAMPLE of Blogocombat Against
Anonymous Comment Posters

In this case the anonymous commenters are hiding behind the nicknames Kudos and Notimendum. They are accusing me of spreading false stories, when I was very clear and specific about the information and how I got it. Probably for political reasons, they want to try and bash me.

I have deleted all references to the specific thing we were debating, because I don't want to get sidetracked into that debate. I simply wish to show how trolls talk and how to reply to them. We jump to the end of the discussion thread.


KUDOS says: “Bloggers” should not spread lies in order to promote a personal agenda (IMO).

NONTIMENDUM says: Vaspers, you reported this as a fact on the Spy site.  Now you ask what anyone else has done to corroborate your claim?  Here’s a better question: Were you just spreading a rumor?

VASPERS AKA STEVEN E. STREIGHT says: KUDOS and NONTIMENDUM -- You have zero credibility, because you’re anonymous, with no link to a blog or website, thus, your opinions don’t matter in the blogosphere. Once again, Anonymous Cowards post comments to bash other comment posters. This is why I disallow webless trolls to post comments on my blogs. Go back to your cave and paint your remarks on the walls.

NONTIMENDUM says: Vaspers: Thanks for reminding me of the Rules of the Internet.  It’s easy (and logical) to forget that a reasonable doubter with a false name is, by default, subservient to one with a real name who appears to be spreading false rumors.  You keep puttin’ the world right brutha.

VASPERS AKA STEVEN E. STREIGHT says: NONTIMENDUM -- And you keep trolling forums with anonymous comments, it’s so much safer that way, and you can say ANYTHING you want, because you’re completely unknown and unaccountable. You’re a Real Big Dude with a real big mouth, hiding in the shadows, accusing people of spreading rumors, when you offer no evidence of your own.

NONTIMENDUM: Evidence to disprove your false rumor?  I am, indeed, left wanting.  You didn’t really “spy” something, now did you?

VASPERS AKA STEVEN E. STREIGHT says: NONTIMENDUM -- As a rule I don’t engage in debate with Anonymous Cowards who troll blogs and forums. Chances are, you’re just a 13 year old World of Warcraft dork. Consider yourself lucky that I paid even this much attention to you. When you put on your big boy pants, and link to your own blog, give it another try.


Also see:

Ubuntu Forums "Definitive Guide to Trolls"

Encyclopedia Dramatica "Troll"

Wikipedia "Troll (Internet)"

Usenet Angelfire Forum "How to Handle a Troll and Beat Them at Their Own Game"

CureZone "Internet Troll / Forum Troll"

Team Technology "Beware The Troll"

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

top SEO sites for str8 sounds nov 9 2010

As of today's Google search on "str8 sounds", here are the best sites for SEO (search engine optimization). In other words, these sites came up highest in the SERPs (search engine result pages).

(1) MySpace

(2) ReverbNation


(4) YouTube

(5) Vimeo

(6) Vodpod

(7) flickr

(8) Facebook

(9) Eventful

(10) Pure Volume

(11) The Rising Storm

(12) Pluperfecter

(13) ACIDplanet

(14) Rhizome

(15) Ustream

(16) Peoria Scene