Good Morning. Hello. How are you? #1584
Political angst, Sananda Maitreya, a plea for helping my friend Annie, a theory of asphalt work, Jane school mystery
Hello, good morning. FOR YOU, anyway. Hope you’re having a good one, I am not, particularly. I guess things are somewhat improved over yesterday, but the effect still lingers. Real rough day yesterday. Three separate work emergencies, fascism sickness, and a six-hour internet outage. Super great. Super great.
I am addicted to the internet, and the internet sucks and is deeply unhealthy. Also I work on the internet which does not help the situation. I am happier when I don’t look at the internet, because ignorance is bliss. I cannot not look at the internet. This is a character flaw, and I recognize that but I would prefer you not mention it, and I would prefer to not think about it.
I would like to formally thank my anonymous Portland friend for soliciting donations to get inflatable animal costumes out into the field and in front of ICE. It felt good buying a pink frog for the people out there doing something. Those who can, do. Those who can’t, donate, I guess. It wasn’t much but it felt like I was doing something.
Anyway, I guess I gotta work harder this week and I do not love working harder, I have spent a lot of effort — worked really hard, if you will — to get to a point where I do not have to work too hard. Except at things that are not work, I will work hard at non-work things all the livelong day.
Man I just want no war and no starvation and justice for everyone and for everyone to have a quality of life on par with mine and to not have to work jobs they do not want to work is that too much to ask of this fucking planet? Maybe they take that extra time to write a newsletter or garden or volunteer or be a better parent. If you’re some weirdo who likes to work you can work and we’ll tax you at 100% and you can pay for everyone else how does that sound?
I wonder how many people who claim “I just like to work” would take that deal.
Went to some pretty dark places with our political and information situations yesterday, the world is a mess and it is not getting better. I still believe — I just have to believe — that this fever will end eventually, but, but..
But.
Excuse me while I go find the toxic fume Magic Marker I retreived from my mother’s house while cleaning it out. Thing has to be 50 years old. It is from my childhood and it smells of post-war American Industrial might and toxicity and probably kills a bajillion brain cells every time I sniff it, but also: my god, that smell is heaven.
In the perspective-keeping segment of today’s edition, my friend Annie, one of my longest, best friends, I love her so much, has been having a rough time the last month or two in her battle with cancer. If you could find it in your heart to spare a few bucks, it would be most appreciated. Halloween is coming, she is an artist living in Salem, and this is the big season for her and unfortunately she is not fully cut out to attend her booths and sell art to goth tourists and whatnot.
My god I love Salem so much I should move there. I wish I could see Annie and her husband Bill every day and go to that record store with the trainspotting owner who is only recently into Dead Can Dance.
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What are we listening to? Oh right, back onto the “To Investigate” playlist re-listens. Unfortunately I have added a ton of stuff to it, listened to six new albums yesterday, so we are back up to 42 hours. Right now a pretty hot synth jam by a band called Orion is playing. It is pretty sweek. you know what? I think we have enough single tracks here at the top of this playlist to make you today’s playlist let’s check. Nope. Only 38 minutes of odds-and-ends at the top of this playlist before we get to an album. When I am clearing out this playlist, occasionally I leave hot jams to listen to when I get started in a morning, like today. They pile up. Eventually I get enough to make a playlist. But today is not that day.
I have a theory on the asphalt squares at the Taco Bell, I’m sure you are concerned. I enter into the record this photo detail of the pavement in the parking lot at the Walmart from last week:
I don’t know if you can tell, but the pavement is seriously pockmarked. And it seems to be pockmarked, and dipped, because of… let’s lump them together as “things that drip out of cars”: Antifreeze, motor oil, lubricants, whatever. They eat away at the asphalt. I have never really noticed this before, but pretty much every parking space around here is like this. So, you know, 100 million machines out there just dripping toxic chemicals onto our ground at all times, super cool, super cool, we sure know how to run a planet. ICE cars are so great. Important to have that maanly vroom vroom sound.
Anyhoo, we were back by that Taco Bell the other day and now the entire parking lot is repaved, not just these weird rectangles in each parking spot. And, my god, it is one of the neatest, most perfect parking lot resurfacings I have seen in my life.
So I am thinking that the pavers did this prep paving over the most pock-marked spots, and that included all the most popular parking spaces.
Clever. Weird. The world of infrastructure, man. Mysterious and fascinating.
Oh also, I know I already corrected myself about Minerva the Somerville Cat Mayor’s platform, being “CRIME” not “DO CRIME.” But I thought I would provide you with this photo that my wife took. Important context:
Yesterday Terence Trent D’Arby Sananda Maitreya came on the Muzak while Emma, Jane and I were hanging out at the McDonald’s stealing their (really very good) wi-fi during our internet outage. “Sign your Name.” Emma knew the song but not much about him, and I started explaining a bit about Sanada and their name change and their dropping out of the mainstream music industry but how they still make albums and they are really good but nowhere near as good as that incredible run of singles on their debut album Introducing the Hardline According To… And I started to wonder: what size crowds could Sanada draw if they resurrected their old name, or pulled a Cat Stephens/Yusef Islam who is now YusefCatStephens on social media. And, like, did a tour as Terence Trent D’Arby? And, like, did the whole industry ringmorale and did a few advance press shows in New York and LA, ran press on the tour, etc? I think a pretty decent crowd would show up for a Terence Trent D’Arby tour in the year 2025. I would definitely go.
Also I am very jealous of my friend Sean who got to see Terence Trent D’Arby back in the day.
OK, well, I should face reality and become the CEO I am supposed to be and go tackle these three assorted work emergencies, even though I rather crawl into a hole and let them fix themselves. Hrm I wonder where my daughter got her avoidance from. Yesterday there was some trauma for Jane at school, and our teacher wrote in about it, and I tried to talk to her about it this morning, and she acknowledged it, and after an uncomfortable amount of prying, she said it was related to a lesson.
But other than that, she didn’t want to talk about it, did not want to remember it, because it was no fun to remember it and she did not like bad memories. This is not the first time she has said this.
And you know what? She is not wrong.
Got a drone playlist for you today. Not the most popular of the playlist series, not gonna lie. Most people like songs with choruses and bridges and whatnot. But I find drone very calming, helps me deal with the horrors of modern society. In the immortal words of Spacemen 3:
Play twice before listening.
All right keep the faith.
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Thanks for reading.
And hey! Maybe buy one of my books!
Good Morning, Hello, How Are You vol 1.