Tuesday, March 24, 2009

quick India thoughts

I was just standing above a sewage dump, watching a man burn plastic bags for no apparent reason.

Other things I have seen:

a cow eating a shoe, pig eating cow shit, cows everywhere, cows in the middle of the freeway, dogs with two legs, camels pulling tractors, tractors pulling trees, naked people by the roadside, people shitting by the roadside, a truck frame (no panels of any kind) with engine attached and a man suspended by rope, driving the truck; flaming piles of garbage in the middle of the road, insane washes of color and beauty, deformed people of every type, lepers begging for money, piles of rubble with tents set up all around, degraded landscapes, tshirt designs in very bad taste, massive statues to the Hindu elephant god and monkey god and vishnu the destroyer (his statue was 5 or so stories tall, next to the freeway, bright blue, holding a sword and a snake).

I really love India, far more than any other place I've ever been. It's the insane wash of humanity, the crosscut of 4,000 years of culture, that floors me -- the temples, the buildings, the food (which, despite nagging stomach twitches and pains, blows away any Indian food ever previously sampled), the rich odors (both good and bad), the vibrant colors, and the massive piles of garbage everywhere.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

gone to India

I am attending a friend's wedding and visiting several ashrams in the Uttar Pradesh region. I will attempt to write updates on here if I get the chance.

The trip promises great things.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Moving into the new studio, part 1

A crazy crackhead walked into Baby Blue and told me for twenty minutes about a prostitute who stole 400 of his dollars by shoving it "up there." So he told me about his plans to cut her apart with a box cutter, put her in a garbage bag, and bleach the carpet of the hotel room so nobody would ever know. After telling me this, the man asked me for a beer or food. I said no beer, but you can have an apple. Man, fuck that, he said. Buy me some chips. I need nutrition. At least chips got potato in it.

I still said no, so he told me about a murderer who is wandering the neighborhood who looks "exactly like me." I guess he meant that he was the murderer? Then he pulled up his shirt and showed me his murder weapon, a large screwdriver. Just drive that shit in somebody's skull, he said. They gone, they dead.

He lamented the fact that the free clinic was closed. I was supposed to see my brain doctor, he said. I ain't right in the head. I feelin weird, man. Fuck. I a crazy man, I ain't right. Can I have a beer? Come on man, I give you fifty cents for a beer. I need me a goddamn beer. One fucking beer, man. I starting to get angry. We getting off on the wrong foot. When I get mad, I start hurting people. But I can get you some quarters for a beer, man.

He fished 2 damp quarters from his jeans pocket. I gave him the beer but didn't take the money. His scare tactics worked, I guess.

I later saw him walking through the yard holding half an apple pie. I'm trying to eat right and get healthy, he said. Well dude, I said, you're gonna wann stop eating half an apple pie for lunch then, probably. Doesn't seem too healthy.

He told me he's an angel and sprinkles good luck on people. I an angel, man, he said. I used to go by that place, the Mohawk. You know that music place, The Mohawk? I sprinkled the good luck on that place like fucking fairy dust, man. Now they pretend like the don't even know me.

He paused.

God comes in all forms, man. He takes all forms. I could be God, you know? What if God be asking you for some-teeng?

I had always assumed that if I met God, he wouldn't be asking me for a beer, but who knows?

Tuesday, March 03, 2009

two sides of funky

Not exactly a news flash, but I just spent the morning having my mind blown by Stevie Wonder. Man. Thing is, he records all the instruments on his seminal albums -- drums, keys, guitar, bass, everything. Some footage from back in the day:

I like the way he plays the clavinet.

And now, to even out this overdose of funkiness,

I really like Colin Blunstone's slow motion dancing and his almost disdainful demeanor.