A Brush With Death.

OK. So this is what happened. We were getting ready to load up the leftover booze, kegs and mixer from the ART BOMB party, which we'd stowed in the basement of the Capitol Hill Arts Center. Tim asked for someone to help guide his van down the ramp so we could load it up. I wasn't ready to pick up anything heavy yet and was busy with a bag of sour cream 'n' onion potato chips (craving salt) so I quickly volunteered.
Tim was backing the van down the ramp and was about ten feet from the bottom. I was standing behind the van, maybe three feet from the wall. Everything was going fine when suddenly the van started coming back toward me. I thought, "What's he doing?" then "Shit! I'm gonna take a hit!" and got my hands up right as the van hit me. I went flying back into the wall and I could feel the bumper hitting my legs. I thought for sure they'd get broken but my upper body cushioned most of the blow and my left leg got a nasty pinching between the bumper and the wall. Tim had slammed the van in park just in time and that was the only thing that kept me out of the hopital...or the morgue.
My leg hurt like hell, but I could tell it wasn't broken. If anything, I was pissed 'cause it hurt! I was stumbling around the theater space just inside swearing and trying to walk it off, but at the same time my brain was telling me it was OK, I wasn't seriously hurt. I saw some red stuff on the ground and almost freaked, but I instantly realized it wasn't me...must've been from a performance the night before.
After a while the pain levelled off...I'd taken harder dings in football practice in high school. I didn't want to go to the hospital, but the fellas (who were pretty freaked) insisted I go. Aaron drove me up to Swedish, but there were 30 people in there, all looking completely miserable and I didn't want to spend 4 hours waiting from someone to tell me to go home, elevate my leg, take some aspirin and put ice on it. I had a date that evening! So we came back the the CHAC, I got on my bike and road home.
I changed into some shorts and saw my leg had swollen up so much that my leg felt more like wood than flesh. So I popped some aspirin and kept it elevated. I know the front of my leg is bruised but guess what? Can't see it. I hit the hot tub yesterday and worked it make sure I had full range of motion.
The swelling is already going down AND as of this morning, I can walk without limping. I definitely pulled some muscles and my shin is still tender but I'll probably be back to normal by the end of the week! Whew...
Tim and Aaron both called to check on me. The dent in the door of the van is pretty huge, I hear. Tim wants me to sign it! LOL
Even though I'm thanking my lucky stars...I'm also feeling about ten feet tall and bulletproof. Which leads the small but sensible voice (which sounds a lot like my mother) to admonish me: "Boooy, you better sit your black ass down, before something really bad happens!"

Aye, I agree...


I am pooped. It was a long weekend. I hurt. I came within a hair of getting seriously injured...or worse.
BUT my band played well. I kissed a girl! And it looked like those that attended ART BOMB had a good time. Next weekend is the 5th Annual Wig N Skirt party! If you're in the Seattle area and wanna go, drop me a line.


Today is so friggin' beautiful I could cry. I want to stand in the middle of Genesee St. with my outstreched and the sun my face, laughing like a child...While Vicente Fernandez's "El Ray" blasts out of the stereo upstairs...and a big pitcher of frosty-cold strawberry margaritas waiting on the porch...
but I'll pass on that for now. I gotta sleep, I need to be ON tonight at ART BOMB!

Ja Maata...


Deep Thoughts:

-------Original Message-------

From: ScottB
Date: Wednesday, April 23, 2003 11:52:08 AM
To: Stacius
Subject: oil

So I think one of the problem I've been having is not putting enough oil in the gas. It's supposed to be 2%. 2% is the same as 1/50. I did some calculations and 1/48th of a gallon (which is usually what I fill up with) is 1/3 of a cup of oil. I've been maybe putting in 1/8 of a cup. Last night, when I filled up, I put in a bit more oil and the weird clanging noise has gone away. So I need to start putting in 1/3 cup every time I fill up.

From: Stacius
Date: Wednesday, April 23, 2003 12:38:55 PM
To: ScottB
Subject: Re: oil



OK...A friend of mine has a question.

She had a birthday recently and despite dropping several hints and pointing him in direction of people who could help, her boyfriend (whom she's been dating for around 15 months) failed to take advantage of said hints and forgot her birthday, thinking it was either the week before or day after the actual day.
My friend is quite understandibly hurt. She came through on boyfriend's birthday, last year, so she's wondering where is the love?

Boyfriend has offered to make dinner for her, but this is probably much too little, too late.

What should my friend do? Dump the guy?? Or make him crawl through glass on his knees, begging forgiveness?


Lately, I have craved nothing more than pancakes and bacon. Of course, Frito thinks I'm nuts...yet he always caves.

Dood. I'm hungry...let's get some pancakes.
What is it with you and pancakes! You can't eat them everyday!
(pouting) I don't know why not. I like them. I tell ya what, why don't we go down to the Silver Fork and have breakfast. I'll buy.
(We pile into Scott's car and head down the street.)
So are you gonna have the Soul Burger?
Nahh. I'm on a mission!
(We get seated and peruse the menu for several minutes.)
Whaadya have?

I'll have the Deluxe, with scrambled eggs, sourdough toast, four strips of bacon, link sausage and a stack.


BTW-the new blog is up. Frito did some tweaking and managed to get the thing working. I will be adding content at both places until I figure out how to get the archives moved over (hopefully by the end of the month). I will be adding pictures and updating and changing some links.
Commenting at the new page works, so if you wanna leave me a note-if only to call me a wanker, please do so!
Songs And The People They Remind Me Of

Sparklehorse - Piano Fire
The line "I got sunburned waiting for the jets to land" seems to resonate with Frito.

Guided By Voices - Game of Pricks
Patty. Reminds me of the dark days at the rekindling of our friendship when we were both struggling with issues and relied on one another for support.

Screamin' Jay Hawkins - Frenzy/There's Something Wrong With You
El Stu. We used to crank SJH before hitting Belltown for a night of drinking.

John Spencer Blues Explosion - Full Grown
Matt D. and I used to play this SO LOUD you hear it two blocks away. Matt would lose his shit, truly awesome to behold.

Dead Can Dance - American Dreaming
Heidi and I would hang out at the Frontier Room and put this on the jukebox and sing it to each other. It was 'our song'...*sigh*

The Long Winters - Stupid
Tabitha. I tried to play this for her, but she hates songs that you have to "listen" to.

Any Hall and Oates Song
Richelle B. I'd like to think I helped my former boss embrace her love for the most sucessful pop duo of the 80's.

Elvis - Don't Be Cruel
Everly Brothers - Bird Dog
Johnny Cash - Folsom Prison Blues
My cousin David and I wore these out when we were 8 or 9. Don't ask me what the appeal was...


Brianna Responds to My Last Post



Have you ever read any of Kurt Vonnegut’s stuff?? There is a short story, I
believe it is in the book Welcome to the Monkey House about how the next
step of human evolution is to “evolve” out of the body and exist as ethereal
timeless beings…
It’s a great story. Apparently there is this yearly ceremony where everyone
returns to the human forms (Which are stored specifically for this once a
year ceremony) for an Annual Parade…you should really read it. Vonnegut
doesn’t like to be categorized as sci fi. He says if you write books and
know how a refrigerator runs you get put in a file drawer labeled “science
fiction” and get pissed on.
But anyways. I have to make this email short, but you echo something that I
have thought for years.
Has the drive to evolve decreased as we have adapted our surroundings to our
current forms? It seems in the past evolution was driven by survival of the
fittest, mutations in species that had an advantage over the general
population of that species in regards to surroundings…now that we have
ergonomic keyboards, cars, Burger Kings, etc. there is really not a need to
evolve physically.
Where has that drive gone?
I dont believe it has dissapeared, or even diminished.
I believe, it has, like water, moved to the path of least resistance. The
It takes generations upon generations upon generations for physical
evolution to come to fruition.
The brain is amazingly adapable. Pick up any Do-It-Yourself ESP book. Within
the short span of just several months the brains capacity for accepting
directives such as astral projection (or, if that is too new-age-y for you,
simply the concept of “positive invisioning” manifesting its effects in the
physical plane of improving performance in something like playing a musical
passage, sports, etc.) is amazing. All the timelines for progress that hold
true for physical evolution are thrown out the window.

There is a great quote that I have written down somewhere. Goes something
along the lines of
The boundaries imposed to create a sense of individuality are but mental
constructs. Like the ocean seems to divide the continents into large
islands, under the water they are connected, just as individuals are
connected and indivisible from the collective conscious.

Except its much more eloquent and less clumsy. I will make it a point to
look it up and send it to you.

I look forward to expounding on this with you later…now I must run off to


Delirious Musings

I haven't updated 'cause there's nothing I could write about. However the weather is beautiful today and makes me wish I could hop on my bike and ride around the peninsula. Ah...maybe this summer.
I did, however have a sort of abstract thought one perhaps we could discuss when properly shitfaced sometime. Perhaps you've heard of Timewave Zero? And something called the Singularity? Well, I don't know how concepts of 'serendipity' and the 'six degrees of separation' fit in, but I have noticed (and this could be attributed to factors that are fairly commonplace) that lately I keep running into people who know people I know. Yeah, I know! Seattle's not that big, etc. But it seems to have accelerated...and I haven't made that many new friends lately. Also, I was thinking about empathy...because I was reading a blog by Brittney (In TN) and how she got sick a few days ago with something that sounds like what hit some folk in my office at the same time. Then I wondered about this Singularity...and empathy. What if somehow, the next step in human development (via natural means or the singularity) wasn't the ability to jump higher or run faster, but to truly feel each other? Wouldn't that be some far-shit? (I swear I'm not stoned.)
See, I've been a little disappointed in a lot of the science fiction I read. I mean William Gibson wrote about people running around with chips in their heads, able to access Cyberspace (or the Net) at will. But think about your cell phone and how much you depend on it. Could you imagine a device that pretty much allowed you to connect to anyone at anytime. One that would fit in your head. AND going further than that, imagine being able to share other peoples dreams, thoughts or personalities...or your emotional state. Or what if you could hack someone? What would that do to humanity? What would happen if you didn't have to talk at all? You walk into work and via your 'telepathic device' and brain software you know what's going on, who's sick, who's grumpy, who's busy...

Anyway, I wish I was a better writer-'cause that would be fun.

OK...I've obviously lost it...going to bed now.


NSC's Art-Bomb Set to Explode April 25th

Seattle's arts-events group is blowing up Capitol Hill

From the non-profit arts-event group who brought you 2001's FuseBall, 2002's Heaven and Hell Ball at Consolidated Works, and the Fremont Arts Council's annual Troll-a-go-go, comes Art-Bomb. The New Style Collective (NSC), known for producing stylish arts-laden benefits for other organizations, is throwing this event to support and expand its own programming. The NSC's Art-Bomb is designed to radically introduce new art from all disciplines to new audiences.

In the past, the NSC's fundraising event model was designed to benefit both the promoting organization and those who participate in the event. Art-Bomb is structured to solely benefit the participating artists themselves -- to support the arts by giving artists paying gigs. The focus of this event lies in the showcasing of talented local emerging artists in unique collaborations. Performers perform, artists exhibit their work, and a rapt audience experiences new art at its source.

Art-Bomb will include musical performances by: Pleaseeasaur; Plastiq Phantom People -- in this incarnation featuring Jeremiah Green (Modest Mouse, The Vells), Andy Sells (FCS North), DJ Suspense, and Sandra Castillo (Sindri); Nervewheel (w/ Bill Horist); Fey Ray; and the Sun|Tzu Sound Art Lounge with DJs AC Lewis, J-Justice & Atlee. 2-D artwork is provided by Chuck Dong & associates, with live painting by Q. Quigg and dance by the Hypnotica Dance Troupe in a never before seen collaboration with non-linear music composer Guy Whitmore.

Art-Bomb will take place on Friday, April 25th 2003, at 9 p.m. at the Capitol Hill Arts Center, located at 1621 12th Ave (12th and Pine -- the old Morningside School). Art-Bomb tickets are priced as follows: $10 in advance; $15 at the door ($12 in costume). Art-Bomb is an age 21 and over event with a full bar. More info will be available at www.newstylecollective.org.


Unbridled Yoofs

How many of you have been around a teenager recently? I hadn't. The youngest person I've associated with lately is in her early 20's. It's funny how time separates you from your former selves. I'm sure that at 50 I'll be laughing and shaking my head at the very drivel I'm spewing now. I think I became somewhat dimly aware of that point when I shared a house with a woman and her 12 year-old daughter back in the mid-90's. I thought of Selah as this "older lady" (she was 38) but even though her daughter and me were blasting the same music, I was 27-I was much closer to Selah's age. I see kids on the street and marvel at how clueless they are...but of course, I was much smarter than them at that age...and we had better music then, too!
I'd hoped that the transition from Cool Guy to Old Fogy might miss me. Or barring that, perhaps there would be a compromise..."Wizened Hipster", perhaps? Y'know, like Kurt Loder or Greil Marcus...
So yesterday, I went down to 911 Media Arts to do some voice work for a project that Miriam is working on. We had to wait until some equipment was free, so while Mir was checking on that I hung out in the front room. There were a lot of young women around...most seemed High School age.
So while I was waiting, this young sista and her friend come up to me and asks me if I could do some voice stuff for her too. I'm like all "Sure!” not knowing what I was getting into.
She promised to love me forever. I suddenly feel on my guard. I know how teenage girls can be. These two were pretty friendly but you can never tell. At least if a woman my age thinks I'm a blithering idiot, she'll probably wait until I'm out of earshot before telling her friends and laughing about it. I was paranoid that I was being set up for what the British call a "piss take".
So Miriam is somewhere in that back and this girl and her friend start asking me questions...all breathlessly energetic like a couple of puppies.

So mister (Mister!) you got Rasta colors on your jacket...Are you a Rasta?
Not exactly.
So you're a poseur Rasta?
Nooo. I mean those colors are associated with Rastafarianism, but the Red is for the blood of our people, the Green is for the land of Africa, the Yellow represents gold, stolen from "us." (I'm sure I got that from an old Steel Pulse song)
You're pulling my leg.
No! I'm serious...
Well, you know-Bob Marley is one of my obsessions. (You have obsessions?)
Really? (I didn't know what else to say. I'd purposely avoided listening to Marley when getting into reggae 'cause I was tired of frat boys endorsing him like he was the end-all-be-all of a rather large genre of music. "Reggae? Duuude, Bob Marley..." It's like having someone yak on about the Beatles every time rock music is brought up! For the record, I dig his stuff, but prefer Desmond Dekker, Toots and Peter Tosh)
Have you heard of Finch?
Yes. (trying not to roll my eyes)
Alkaline Trio?
Good Charlotte?
(Jeezus) Yeah.
Those guys used to be cool. I really liked their first album, but then they sold out...
(Incredulous) They had a first album?
Oh yeah! (She and her friend start singing that gahdawful single.)
What's that on the back of your jacket? What's Killing Joke?
They're another band.
(The friend pipes up) Ooh, what about The Clash? Some of their stuff is cool. But I can't handle it. My teacher likes them a lot.
(I fight the urge to go off on a "Joe Strummer is a fawking God" tangent) Jeez-You guys are making me feel old.
So finally they introduce themselves. Ariel is tall and slender. The cuter of the two...kind of a princess. Victoria is shorter and chubby in overalls and a hoody. I guess the fact that the three of us are black and discussing, heh, "rock and roll" would qualify us as nerds, but shit-I'd claimed that title a long time ago.
On learning my name, Ariel remarked: Hey, I know a guy Morgan and an Ashley. And now I know a Stacey. You all should all get together!
Hey! My name means "resurrection" in Greek. That's not gender-specific!
Yeah, well Ariel is like, y'know the mermaid? My middle name's Grace...which means...Grace.
I relax. They are teasing me, but good-naturedly.
Miriam comes back and we do the voice parts. Ariel runs the camera and Victoria checks the sound. They ask me a bunch more questions while testing for levels. Ariel asks me to suggest a Bob Marley song for her to sing. I deliberately try to suggest songs that I think will be more obscure (to her).
Who the Cap Fit.
I don't know that one.
Trenchtown Rock.
Don't know that one either.
Crazy Baldhead.
(She ignores me and starts singing "Is This Love?")

We do four takes for Miriam's project and three for Ariel's-for which I only had to say the line, 'Well, everybody knows when a girl says "no", she really means "yes"'.
Ariel demands that I come to the show on Friday and tells me to "dress up".
"Well, they sure seem to like you!" Miriam says.
I get ready to go. I feel goofy for worrying about my 'coolness' in the face of unbridled yoof and relieved that I can go home and nerd out in relative peace.

But as I head for the door, Victoria delivers the parting shot:

Hey-your fly is open!


Vote With A Bullet (Corrosion of Conformity)

The number in nations
The god in their hearts
The justice in swine
The devil in God


This long hand that breaks our backs
Still casting shadows on all that we see
Unjustified...mercy killing is just a feeling
To keep our numbers from being free

Prison for praise is not worth thinking
Sin is still in and our ballots are shrinking
So unleash the dogs - the only solution
Forgive and forget, fuck no
I'm talking about a revolution

The prophet man's got a needle in his hand
Draws his dreams from your soul - bleeding
minds into sand
The year of the fear has arrived decades too late
And our right to stand and fight is now
solely sealed in fate

(Repeat first chorus)

One last chance mission with a vision
'cos our lives are just cards i their stack
Our time is short but theirs is shorter
How much longer can they hold us back

Prison for praise - the obvious answer
Once had power mad - living disaster
Don't fuck with me 'cos I'm on a freedom train
That bears no name - this time
I'm voting with a bullet

This view they once knew made our nooses too tight
This justice in swine
This devil in god

So God bless my soul - I've got total control
And the crosshairs lined up dead in my sight

I'm voting with a bullet


Secks on tha Brain

I spent some time with two of my female friends yesterday and lemmetellya, it was a bit of an eye-opener! You see, half of my closest friends are female…I’ve known them 5, 10, 13, 15 years (26 in one case). This adds a whole new level to the concept of the “friend zone”. No, sir-this fresh hell is known as the “male girl-friend”.
On one hand, I am quite honored. I value people who are forthright and direct and being in this position allows one to talk freely and openly about any and everything without awkwardness or worrying about boundaries. On the other hand, I can’t help but feel these women, who are all very intelligent, interesting and damn sexy, see me as such a hopeless epicene that I find myself spouting outrageous statements in order to “remind them” that I am in fact, a normal, red-blooded, hetero male.

Her: ...”and so then he grabbed me by my hair and said…”
Me: “Waitaminute. I don’t mean to interrupt, but you know-I’m a guy too.”
Her (puzzled): “Yeah, I know that.”
Me: “So before you tell me this story, I thought we’d get that straight.”
Her (still puzzled): “ooookay.”
Me: “’Cause hey, I like sex! I’ve even had it a few times. With women!
Her: “…”
Me: “You know that if me and you had met under different circumstances and I was a bald white guy who wore leathers and had tattoos and piercings and a Harley and was all up in that BD/S&M/Industrial stuff we’d be getting’ it on too, right?”
Her (deciding to humor me): “Uh, sure…”
Me (pleased): “Awright. So then what happened?”

Heh. I’ve actually had some girls, who I don’t know as well as my buds, try to convince me that “We don’t actually talk about that stuff.”
Yeah, right.

Anyway, to call my two friends “sex-positive” would be a gross understatement. Really. In the space of less than two hours, I learned more about dildos, their ex’s penis sizes (and boy, size DOES matter) and sexual practices than I could’ve ever imagined. We weren’t drinkin’ neither…
I even somehow managed to maintain my cool when the younger of the two says: “So this guy, one of my random fuckbuddies? He has this thing where he likes to spew on my stomach or chest and then smack his dick on my cheek and say stuff like ‘You like that, bitch?!’”
Me: “Uh...perhaps you should let that one go.”
Her: “Oh, normally I would but he’s so fucking hung I just can’t get rid of him yet!”

I’m going to giggle about that one on my deathbed…

You know the funny thing about all this? The way you can tell your guy friend is really, really into the new babe he’s dating...He doesn’t say a thing


Stupid (The Long Winters)

She has no idea she could make me do anything
She acts like it's the simplest thing for me to be there
You tell me no, that I'm a fool to go calling her
I'm calling her
You can call me stupid when she tells me it has to end
You can call it that
But you have no idea
How stupid I would feel if 15 years from now I see her
And she says "Why didn't it happen between us?"

New York soon will hum
The electric car has come
She laughs when I pretend to fall...
You call me out "Let her down easy please, can't you see she believes?"
My friend, you called me stupid then
But you're the one who doesn't see, yeah
You can call it that
But you have no idea
How stupid I would feel if 15 years from now I see her
And she says "Why didn't it happen between us?"


Popmatters.com is featuring an interesting set of articles on the war...
The weather has been pretty decent of late. Still cold, but the afternoons are sunny and inviting. Usually, after getting home from work I feel too loopy to be out riding, but I think I'm going to have to find a way to take a nap and hit the road. Sleep is already getting harder to come by with people out working in their yards and all the bright sunlight and my own spring fever to contend with.
I think I need a vacation.