The Prophecies of Philip K. Dick

I watched A Scanner Darkly the other day. I've read the story before but seeing the movie now, in the context of things the way they are for me and in the world, was chilling. If I were ever to publish a collection of his works I would call it the Prophecies of Philip K. Dick.

Of course, my mood lately is no small part of my reaction. There's no denying that. There's a cold, metallic ring of truth to the story beyond the personal effect it had on me, though. The more interconnected things become, the faster the sense of estrangement seems to spread. The more fertile the earth becomes for those little, blue, paranoia-inducing flowers to bloom.

Horsemeat

Barbaro's dead, America. Try to find the self-respect to move on with your lives.

In other news, a bunch of people probably died somewhere...

jonglassett.com Exclusive! ***Celebrity Alert***

The wife and I spotted Steven Tyler at Olympia Sports at the Mall of New Hampshire yesterday afternoon. Passing by we noticed a crowd forming at the front of the store and a contingent of very formidable looking mall security guards posted at the entrance. While standing there trying to figure out what was causing the fuss, I overheard someone excitedly whisper "Steven Tyler's here." Sure enough, when I looked inside the store, there he was posing for a picture with an Olympia employee.

After pointing him out to my wife she took a good look and asked, "Is he hacking? He looks bad."

Then, we left.

The Pendulum Swings

The old days were full of spare time to think grandiose thoughts. There was a lot of volcanic, wild creativity. There was also a lot of foolishness and dawdling and rationalization.

Then there were some dark days that brought monumental change. Sometimes the change was slow and crushing as a glacier. Other times fast and tearing as a forest fire.

The now-a-days are marked by recognition of the value of both times, but also the view that the lessons have been applied in an imbalanced way. Some things may have been sacrificed unnecessarily. An overcompensation may have occurred in pursuit of the ability to see the world in a way that is closer to what it truly is. To understand events in their proper perspective. To do what must be done. To guard.

A shift looms.

Original photo by jpstanley.

A Right and Proper Sendoff

A bit more news on the passing of Mr. Jon Erik Johnson. The Weekly Dig has published a very eloquent obituary for Jon and I thought that, since I'm seeing a little traffic from people searching for news about him, it would be worthwhile to offer you the link.

Kudos to folks at The Noise Board, as well, for pulling together and raising a big chunk of change for his family. Not to mention all the kind and beautiful things that were said there, as well.

In some ways, this whole experience has shown me the Internet in an entirely different and decidedly encouraging light.

Out Here in the Ether

The band is no more. My only musical outlet for the last ten years is cut off. I have two more nights a week that I'm not making music, bringing me up to a total of seven. In the last two weeks my only musical activity has been dicking around with Slayer tunes on the guitar. Haven't even touched the bass.

This is fucking weird, this place. It's all...undefined. Shapeless. Expansive. Like the outside edges of the universe or something.

Going from here is a matter of picking a direction. Don't want to go backwards. Don't want to stay. Lots of potential but no clear path. Can't say it's being lost: lost would be relative to what, exactly?

What do I do? Start another band? Join one? Sell my shit? Learn how to record and then write some stuff by myself? I could do any of those things. I mean, I can't see selling my shit but the other stuff, maybe.

Messages are trickling in about being sad to see us go. It's nice and it sucks at the same time. Kind of bums me out, but it's cool that people care.

It's strange having such a big part of your life just stop, isn't it? It's strange to find out how big it was, even the little fish in the big sea that we were.

The Most Powerful Gym in the World!

One of the submissions to the ecomagination Challenge (see: The UMass Human Power Plant Project) got me thinking. Has anybody tried this yet?:

What about taking all the bikes, treadmills, stairclimbers, rowing machines, etc. in your local gym and fitting them all with generators and hooking them up to battery systems?

You could help power the gym you're exercising in! Maybe let people charge their own portable devices while they work out. How cool would that be?! All the Green-minded folks would love that.

Wait, do we really want to encourage hippies to get all sweaty?

I kid, I kid.

Okay, I'm well aware I'm probably not the first person to think of this. Still, I haven't seen a gym like this and it might work. If there is one out there let me know. I'd love to read up on it.

Vote for MIT in the mtvU GE ecomagination Challenge

Click Here to see a video of their proposed plan and to cast your vote for the MIT team.

The winner of this challenge gets $25,000 to make their plan a reality. They also get featured on mtvU and mtvU.com. They ALSO get a big Earth Day hoedown on mtvU's dime.

What do YOU get?

You get to help put a solar powered biodiesel refinement and fueling station on the MIT campus, which will then fuel the MIT fleet, which will then reduce the amount of fossil fuels they need, which will reduce the amount of pollution they generate, which will make the air a little better to breathe, which will help you run faster and harder for longer stretches, which will make you more generally awesome than you already are, and so on and so on and so on. It's all connected, see?

Two clicks, baby. I know you got 'em.

Fine: if you want to see ALL the finalists, click here (they all have great ideas!).

2007 Needs Good News

I'm ready for some good news this year.

Rough fucking start.

Jon Erik Johnson

Today I found out someone I only knew online has died.

I'm thinking about the phrase "only knew online" having written it and I'm not sure how to reconcile the hollowness of it with my feelings about this. The news makes me very sad. The loss feels real enough.

In so many ways the connection you can make to a person on the Internet is flawed or deficient. I still believe that's true; actually knowing someone, I believe, comes from spending time with them. Still, there's nothing saying that not "really" knowing them means you can't care about them.

This was a guy I conversed with occasionally but whose words I read almost daily. He was eloquent, engaging, patient, witty, fair-minded, informed, extremely intelligent and knew how to make an argument without making it personal. By all accounts, he was a hugely generous man who lived life in a big way. He loved music--both listening to and making it. He loved talking about things military. He loved comics and weird, old sci-fi and horror flicks. He loved talking about politics and world affairs and a million other things he seemed to understand inside and out. He loved Japan. He loved Izumi.

That's just about all I know about him, but it's enough.

Rest in peace, jonerik. I wish I could've gotten to know you better.

SUMO = OVER

Apparently the proverbial cat is out of the proverbial bag, so here it is:

For anyone who might happen to care, SUMO is done. I'm not going to offer you explicit details or some insulting cliché about creative differences or whatever. This is something that bands do. We had ten years behind us and a ton more music to write, but now it appears to have run its course.

I'm not happy about it. Actually, I'm pretty out of sorts over it. Just ask my wife.

No idea what will happen next, musically: for myself or for anyone else involved. It's hard to imagine that anyone will remain idle for long.

Thanks for listening.

Anatomically Correct Travel Mug

File under: Dirtiest cup of coffee EVER!

This morning I realized with a mix of horror and giddiness that a travel mug I was given for Christmas harbors a rather pornographic secret.

*NSFW* but probably okay in the car (when traveling alone):


Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, and sometimes a travel mug is a vagina.

Here's Your Wisdom

Be grateful for the rude awakenings. Denying them doesn't make you a heroic dreamer. It makes you a jackass.

Adapt.

Thanks a LOT, technology!

Bohandian Fhartsody



THE FUTURE IS NOW

"Dude, have you heard this totally awesome band called Web 2.0?"

The Web 2.0 thing, at times, has a very transparent "Street Team" kind of vibe to it.

If you've ever tried promoting a band you know exactly what I'm talking about: some bands will pull together a bunch of people (who either genuinely like the band or are paid to act like they do) to go around handing out fliers and merch and starting threads on message boards, etc. They're pretty easily identified and more often than not immediately disregarded (and ridiculed).

Ease up a little, folks. Let the product speak for itself.

Yuck.

PS - This Winter SUCKS

I'm a cold weather cat. This hovering around in the 40s and 50s crap is seriously harshing my Winter mellow.

To add insult to injury, the weather dude flapping on the tv in the other room just added that tomorrow will be in the 60s, possibly as high as 70!

HEY! This is NEW ENGLAND! WHAT GIVES?!

Maybe it's time to dust off that partially built weather control device in the garage.

On Cliques...

Cliques never go away. The adult world is full of them.

The Internet is, too.

An uncle of mine once told me, "Once a group of friends starts to turn into a clique, I leave."

He's a bit of a misanthrope but there's some truth to that statement.

Once a group of people starts to tighten up to the point of excluding or deriding (or attacking) outsiders it becomes something ugly.

Don't go where you're not wanted. You only debase yourself.

Move on.

Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke.

Another Casualty

I appear to have blown yet another speaker.

This time it's a 15-incher in the Mesa cab. It started farting out at practice tonight. It's still making noise but it's starting to push out farther than it should. Not a good sign.

Expensive hobby, playing loud.

Oh, well. Pony up the shekels and soldier on, I guess.

Maybe I should cop Ze Frank's racket and sell little woofer icons on my site.

WHO WANTS TO BUY A BLING WOOFIE!?!?

Crap.