RANDO STUFF

I haven't posted much recently. You can tell I'm going through my files and trying to consolidate some stuff. Throwing some stuff up because I don't want y'all to get too lonely out there. Enjoy.

KEIN Will will will not be part Will will will want to be a part Will want to be a part not be part not of what was - there was nothing not by what comes soon not by anything of it ... RED FLAG Gwen was smashed . She dumped the contents of her purse on the couch in a mad search for her cell phone. “Aw. What’s this?!” She made a point of alerting my attention to the tiny wad of yellow, lined paper among the trash. “How did this thing get here?” I honestly didn’t care about it, but she followed herself up quickly and without prompting. “Okay, okay, it’s coke,” she shouted, just a hair too loudly. “That doesn’t bother you, does it? I mean, I do it sometimes. It’s not meth, I promise---I wouldn’t do that. Well, I did do meth once, with my Ex, but I don’t do that anymore. You don’t mind, do you? Well, I know you wouldn’t hold it against me…you wouldn’t, would you? No….that’s what I love about you, baby. You’d never do that. I know you worry about me, but you’d never judge 2 me, would you? I love you like that, babe…I’m just sayin’ it, you know? I know hearing the ‘L’ word gets you nervous, but I love you like that….you know? I’m just sayin’ it, okay, babe? I’m just sayin’ it ‘cause I’m sayin’ it ‘cause I’m sayin’ it…” Copyright 2022 C.F. Roberts/Molotov Editions THIS WEEK'S PLAYLIST: PINK FLOYD-Piper at the Gates of Dawn PINK FLOYD-The Wall BLACK SABBATH-Paranoid STIC BASIN 3

YAY!!!! I get to be the 9,000th person on the internet who makes fun of "The Room"!!!

Heather got me a fascinating batch of birthday presents a coupla weeks ago---everything was in couplets. Two albums by The Brian Jonestown Massacre (“Strung Out in Heaven” and “Thank God for Mental Illness”) two books by or about Punk Rock/Counter culture legend Penny Rimbaud and a DVD copy of Tommy Wiseau's “The Room”, accompanied by its companion piece, Greg Sestero's making-of-the-movie book, THE DISASTER ARTIST (Don't get me started on the James Franco biopic. He's a tourist in this neighborhood at best---a condescending hipster colonialist with the stench of Hollywood Trash all over him----to quote John Waters, “here in Mortville we don't like social climbers!!!!”)

So, last night we finally cracked open “The Room” and watched it, and by the last half hour Heather was apologizing to me, which was unnecessary, but...

SWEET JESUS!!!! What the hell, Tommy Wiseau?????

I mean, I've seen enough comedic breakdowns on this thing to where I knew everything about it and everything that happens in it, but to see it all laid out in front of you, unexpurgated, back to front, naked, raw, ugly and sad, that's different....

My relationship with “The Room” has become a complicated one—I remember waking up one night  and throwing on “Adult Swim” only to see “Tim and Eric”----in fact, AS's ENTIRE SCHEDULE—was pre-empted by this horrid soap opera-looking thing where some greasy freak named Johnny was racing around having conniptions over who knows what and all the other cast run around wringing their hands over him, and I'm like, “who the fuck is this Johnny idiot and why am I supposed to care?!”

Years later, here it is, full on, and if that's not call enough for a Silkwood Shower, go pay attention to politics for a while.

Wiseau in recent years has usurped Ed Wood for the worst filmmaker ever mantle. To be fair, Wood never deserved that. His naïve charm, his pure gumption and his love for his profession rose above his deficiencies, or in many cases created a nice melange. Wiseau, likewise, probably doesn't deserve such distinction, as luminaries such as James Nguyen and Neil Breen are already making him look like Eisenstein. Wiseau, to his credit, seems to have an understanding that there is this thing out there somewhere called cinematography, and that it can be a nice creation.

If there's any value to “The Room”(Outside the memeworthy quotes---”oh hai Mark! Oh hai Lisa! Oh hai Denny! Oh hai Doggy! Oh hai gun barrel!”) it probably exists in the incredulous conversations one can have during or after (“Oh---damn---that was an hour and a half of my life!”---”What the hell were they thinking?!”). It's a similar phenomenon to what happens in the wake of “Cannibal Holocaust”, except that, with the former, there are bigger questions about the morals of filmmaking, beyond even the intended metanarrative, whereas with “The Room”, it kind of dies on the level of “The Room”----that was terrible, amirite?! Let me count the ways in which it was terrible...

As kind of a side note, a trailer is included on the DVD that undoubtedly happened after “The Room” started attaining cult status...Wiseau was trying to remarket it as a “Black Comedy”. HOLD ON. BULLSHIT. Sorry----you are not permitted to enter Annexia. I am the Black Comedy Police, and I said, NO. I'm an aficionado of Black Comedy----I'm a Black Comedy PURIST, a Black Comedy FUNDAMENTALIST, and my crazy-ass Black Comedy Madrasa says, NO, for the love of Yossarian, you don't get in, sir! Tough titty.

Not that I fault the guy for trying to make a buck, but NO---your pretensions of Black Comedy stop on the end of my fist, sir.

I could rip up “The Room” on any number of fronts---bad green screen, shit performances (although I have a hard time faulting the actors for being unable to convey a script that has no idea what it is to be a human), the sheer, destructive egomania of the auteur---but what I'm going to focus on is the real elephant in the room (or the elephant that ate the room)---the writing.

Great Googly Moogly. Let me take a second out to run my hands across the top of this desk just to make sure there are actual MOLECULES there. Okay. Okay. Okay. I think the universe is stabilizing. So, first you get the “Johnny” character (Wiseau himself), and he's a nice guy, very trusting and altruistic and he's all goodness and light, and (in view of the narrative) a man beyond reproach. It's almost like “Rashumon”, minus any of the cynical, knowing irony.

Then you've got Lisa, Johnny's fiancee---we learn over the course of the film that Lisa is “very beautiful”, a litany repeated endlessly by Johnny and others---she's also callous, duplicitous and completely self-serving, as evidenced by her mantra, “I'm going to do what I want.” You hear THAT a lot, too, as well as her constant response to anyone else's woes, “oh, don't worry about it, it'll be okay!” Lisa would probably qualify as a sociopath, but that's assuming, for five seconds, that “The Room” had any remote understanding of how human beings work.

Third of all you have Mark. Mark is Johnny's best friend. We know this because he repeats it continually, usually while preparing to bone Lisa. In fact, half the dialogue in this film is so repetetive and constant it's like an endless mobeius loop....to quote Heather, “if you made a drinking game out of half this dialogue you'd be clinically dead by the end!”

The last main character is Denny, a weird and disturbing boy-man who also lives in the building. We learn along the way that Johnny thinks of him as a son and pays both his rent and his college tuition. Denny is arguably the creepiest character on the story---he's a constant tagalong/human dingleberry and he has an unhealthy desire to be with Johnny and Lisa especially when they're trying to get intimate. Why? I don't know why.

There are other characters and other plot points, too (I'll get to those in a sec) although the main gist of it is the very simplistic structure of Lisa and Mark's betrayal of Johnny leading to his eventual hissy fit and suicide at the end. Other characters and plot points pop in and out for no reason whatsoever. Some rando couple pop into Johnny and Lisa's apartment and have sex for no discernible reason. Characters appear and disappear. Lisa's mother announces she has breast cancer, with all the crushing gravitas of last week's fender bender. Lisa blows off this revelation like she does everything else in the movie and it is never mentioned again. Denny is in trouble with a local drug dealer. This becomes an issue once and is then completely forgotten about. There is a scene at a coffee shop where we are treated to two sets of customers placing their full orders and being seated before Johnny and Mark come in, place THEIR full orders and are seated, whereupon the “important” slice of dialogue starts. WHAT THE HELL IS THIS-----SILAS MARNER???? Fuckin' TOLSTOY????

Throughout the story people behave in a way that is categorically unlike the way humans act ANYWHERE. People perpetually show up for visits or deep, heart-to-heart conversations that last 3 to 5 minutes and resolve zilch before getting back up and saying, “well, I've got to go,” and walking back out the door. I mean, this motif is CONSTANT. It's COPIOUS. It HAPPENS IN AN ENDLESS STREAM.

And then there's the football. THE FOOTBALL. THE GODDAMN FUCKING FOOTBALL. MEIN GOTT. Not that actual football games are taking place, but a perpetual bit of recreation and bonding the males in this movie engage in is that they go off somewhere with a GOD DAMN FOOTBALL and they all run around and toss it back and forth...these endless games of catch with the goddamn football!

So my theory is that Tommy Wiseau is actually a space creature---his mission is to report back to his alien brethren regarding life on earth and that “The Room”, rather than an actual film for human consumption, is his report back to the homeworld about us and what he believes we're like. His hypothesis is laughed out of the building and now he's stuck here, a la “The Man Who Fell to Earth”.

Heather did me one better and suggested “The Room” is actually a sly reboot of “Robot Monster”. Tommy/Johnny is actually supposed to be Ro-Man. Lisa is the oldest daughter Ro-Man must kill but develops feelings for. Mark is a hybrid of the patriarch/scientist and also the alpha male boyfriend of the daughter. Denny is the kid who dreams the whole thing (or DOES he???) Lisa's mother...? She might be one of those lizards they crib in from a different film, pretending it's a “dinosaur”. Yeah. I'm sure that's it.

There seems to be this whole school of film criticism out there, now, that encourages you to throw any sad, demented theoretical comparison out there, and posit it whether it can be backed up or not. Heather's “Robot Monster” theory is as sound as any of the others. I think it's time to nominate her for a Rondo....

In the meantime, do yourself a favor and check out “Robot Monster”----it's better than “The Room”. Or check out “Plan 9 from Outer Space”. Or “The Star Creatures”. Or “Manos: The Hands of Fate”. Okay---that last one was a tough call...nope. Sticking to it.

Later on we got some better entertainment going----ALL THE COLORS OF GIALLO featuring four hours of classic Giallo trailers with commentary by the great Kat Ellinger. A much more rewarding experience, and, dare I say it? Infinitely better than “The Room”.

UP NEXT: “The Meat Factory” (previously unpublished!) plus 2019's long range-but-attainable goals

'Til then....Aloha!

ENTRY

                                                            
THIS ENTRY WAS "trinityTrinityTRINITY"

Copyright 2014 C.F. Roberts/2016 Molotov Editions 

THIS WEEK'S PLAYLIST:

Chris Bell-I Am the Cosmos

Big Star-Kangaroo

Boredoms-Super Coming

Flaming Lips-Zaireeka LP

THE CRITIC SAYS...

I used to read this one a lot at open mics. It primarily consists of actual critiques leveled at actual writers, usually by actual magazine editors....I was both a writer and an editor at the time, so I was on both sides of the fence.

FECAL ODE

The Critic says Confessional Poetry is the earmark of an immature voice!

The Critic says one must avid preaching to the choir!

The Critic pauses, scratches his balls and neglects to make a note of it!

The Critic says your genre parody is unintentional!

The Critic says you might hammer it through his workshop for $300 per weekend!

The Critic says you are suffering from Post-Beat Angst---take two New Yorkers and call him in the morning!

The Critic lists his priorities!

The Critic begs to differ!

The Critic declines to attend the Open Mics as they are notoriously lowbrow and common!

The Critic shows up fashionably late to extravagant functions!

The Critic insists upon a window seat!

The Critic maintains that the lesser poets write about handjobs in pickup trucks because only the lesser poets would give or receive handjobs in pickup trucks!

The Critic says it is crucial to remove all personal experience and pain from one's erotica so that he might retain his erection!

The Critic quickly adds that he is single and attractive!

The Critic produces excrement that is, in fact, transparent, textureless and virtually devoid of odor!

Copyright 1992(?) C.F. Roberts/2015 Molotov Editions

THIS WEEK'S PLAYLIST:

MOTORHEAD-All the Aces

MOTORHEAD-1916

HAWKWIND-Warrior at the Edge of Time

Novel Excerpt, HELLO, UGLY

It was a big house and it had a wide open floor and it seemed like the hole in the wall was thousands of miles away. The mouse scampered toward the hole as fast as its little legs could carry it.

It didn't look back for fear of the sight that would paralyze it, but it knew the cat was close behind. It could hear the cat's big, deadly paws booming away, hard on the floor, on either side. The cat's hot, fish-stinking breath was the only thing there was to breathe.

The mouse screamed as it felt the big paw smack into its back but as its legs went out of control it managed to scramble into the hole.

It struggled to its feet, feeling all wobbly and exhausted and moved away from the entrance and the groping paw. The mouse ran down a passage that opened up into a cavern.

There was something living there. They were rats. The mouse saw that they were similar in shape but the rats were bigger, uglier, dirtier, mean-looking. Hateful. The rats glared at the mouse. They bared their sharp, malformed, yellow teeth.

**********

jack

       the rats, the rats

jack

hm?

what happened to your face?

huh oh my face oh i had trouble in school yesterday i fell and then a bunch of kids who hated me bashed my face into a zigzag

a zigzag

yeah you know

jack your father and i are worried about you

laughing, why?

look at you look at your face jack what's wrong you go off and disappear all the time without a word to us and

and NOW we get this letter from the school that says you're failing and you don't have enough credits to graduate

jack you know you can talk to us

listen up chief you've come too far to blow it now so get your ass in gear or

what's happening to you

we're not going to let you do this to yourself, hear me boy

it isn't normal

you're gonna wreck your future if you keep going the way you're going

can't go through life this way always going off without telling anyone what kind of a chance do you think you stand being so irresponsible

goddammit jack you'd better listen up you'd better

please jack your face

GODDAMMIT ENID

can tell you've been upset i know a doctor who is very good and he

ENID

HELP you if

ENID

god jack i know it's been hard with zoe and now carol and we can help you i know you can't concentrate if you can just work WITH us

ENID SHUT THE HELL UP

what

GODDAMMIT IT'S SHIT LIKE THIS THAT GOT HIM SO FUCKED UP TO BEGIN WITH ALL THIS KID NEEDS IS SOMEONE TO TELL IT TO HIM STRAIGHT NOW IF YOU'RE NOT GONNA BE PART OF THE SOLUTION THEN ALL YOU ARE IS PART OF THE PROBLEM SO SHUT UP IF ALL YOU'RE GONNA DO IS MOAN AND WHINE AND BE ALL TOUCHY FEELY

cliff jesus

I'M THE GODDAMN MAN AROUND HERE AND SOMEONE'S GOT TO TEACH HIM TO BE A MAN ANY OBJECTIONS ENID?

you sonofabitch he isn't normal

HE'S JUST CRYIN' FOR ATTENTION IS ALL AND NOW HE'S GOT IT AND I'M THROUGH PLAYIN' PUSSY

oh god cliff

DON'T OH GOD ME

goddammit i'm going out for a walk

you do that you go for a walk enid i'll take care of everything here

i know jack

ENID

jack the things you're doing i know they're not normal and i know you need to talk to someone

ENID GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE AND STOP SCREWING THIS KID'S HEAD UP GOD DAMMIT

oh you son of a bitch

SORRY JACK YOU KNOW YOUR MOTHER SHE MEANS WELL BUT SOMETIMES SHE JUST DOESN'T UNDERSTAND US GUYS YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN?

YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN?

                                                                                 the rats, the rats

YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN?

LISTEN CHIEF IT'S A BIG HARD WORLD AND ALL BUT YOU'RE NOT MAKIN' IT ANY BETTER ON YOURSELF NOW WE GOT A BIG PROBLEM DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GONNA BE ABLE TO PULL THINGS TOGETHER WITH YOUR GRADES SO YOU'LL BE ABLE TO GRADUATE?

sure dad

SURE? Y'KNOW IT'S IMPORTANT THAT A YOUNG MAN GET TO GRADUATE WITH ALL HIS FRIENDS AND FEEL LIKE HE'S AS GOOD AS HIS PEERS IT'LL LOOK BETTER ON YOUR PERMANENT RECORD AND YOU SHOULDN'T BLOW THAT

i won't

ARE YOU SURE FROM WHAT I'VE HEARD IT SOUNDS LIKE YOU ALREADY HAVE, SON

no i

I MEAN LOOK IT'S FUN TO BE FREE AND IRRESPONSIBLE WHEN YOU'RE A KID BUT THAT TIME IS OVER JACK AND NOW YOU'VE GOTTA FACE THE FUTURE AND THE SAD TRUTH IS THAT LIFE ISN'T ALL GOOFING OFF

i

IS THERE ANYTHING YOU CAN DO TO GET OUTTA FAILING I MEAN LOOK IF YOU WANT I'LL GO DOWN THERE AND TALK TO YOUR TEACHERS AND SEE WHAT

no dad

WHAT?

no it's okay i've already met with my teachers and we're working together to straighten it out

SO YOU'LL PASS?

yeah dad i'll pass

SO YOU'LL BE ABLE TO GRADUATE WITH EVERYONE ELSE?

uh-huh

GOOD. THAT'S GREAT JACK YOU'RE STARTING TO SHOW SIGNS OF BEING A RESPONSIBLE YOUNG MAN ALREADY WANNA GO OUT WITH YOUR OLD MAN FOR AN ICE CREAM OR ANYTHING?

no dad I can't i'll be real busy these next few days hitting those books and everything

WELL ALRIGHT YOU GO DO THAT I'M PROUD OF YOU SON

thanks dad

                                                                                the rats, the rats their teeth

Copyright 1990 C.F. Roberts/2015 Molotov Editions

BLOG ROULETTE

                                                                www.cfrobertsart.com

Been chewing on a number of issues lately----one thing I haven't done up to now with this blog is write on a personal level----poetry, yeah----fiction & prose, sure----art sometimes, of course----seldom in this arena have I just sat & jawed with you----so right now I'm gonna do that....

FIFTY SHADES OF GREY, how do I hate thee? Let me count the ways.

Seen the movie? Nah....me neither.

I could probably start at ground zero, as a writer and a friend of writers---as someone who's watched at least one generation of underappreciated scribes churn out some superior and intellectually turned-on erotica get summarily ignored and dismissed while this toe jam sells zillions.....it goes beyond that, though.

Lots of the BDSM people have gone off at length about how the book and/or movie mischaracterizes the lifestyle as romanticized abuse and codependence----basically a variation or extreme caricature of 1950s marriage. I've personally got no dog in that race, and the BDSM crowd don't need me in their peanut gallery....they have plenty of their own eloquent speakers.

I've hypothesized for years that THE STORY OF O is a parable about Codependence, Abuse and loss of identity wrapped up in a veneer of Erotica....friends and I have gone round and round about that, and of course, Pauline Reage is no longer around to speak for herself on the issue----but I think that's the line in the sand between smart erotic literature and dumb....I doubt EL James, or whatever her name is, has ever taken a moment to ponder such enigmas.

The neat thing about 50 SHADES, though, is, not since BATTLEFIELD EARTH have I witnessed a book endure so much open snarking....google yourself 50 SHADES OF GREY EXCERPTS and have a ball....

This one was my running favorite:

“His pointer finger circled my puckered love cave.  ‘Are you ready for this?’ he mewled, smirking at me like a mother hamster about to eat her three-legged young.”

He mewled? He MEWLED!!!! You know what that is, right???? That's the sound a cat makes!!!! The above hilarity had me following my better half around the apartment for weeks, making randy overtures in a voice similar to Henrietta Pussycat from the old Mister Rogers Show. “Heeey, baby....meow-meow-meow-meow-meow-meow-meow!!!!” 

And then I wonder why she seems to be in such a hurry to leave the room.

I've come to find out, however, that the above chestnut may be fake---not in the book at all. And yeah, I'm crushed. Is there no actual mewling in this book? Oh, please, God----tell me there's mewling......

Of course, whether there is or not there are plenty of great, cringeworthy passages to go around....

"I don't remember reading about nipple clamps in the Bible."

Yeah, actually, I think it was in Deuteronomy somewhere.

“I suck harder and harder … Hmm … My inner goddess is doing the merengue with some salsa moves.”

I'm gonna just reiterate what I've been saying for at least a year, now, three legged hamsters or no....all my writer friends need to be out there securing book deals, 'cause if the bar's this low, there's gold in them thar hills!

Shit, maybe even I can score one....

Anybody see the Oscars this year? Nah....me neither. We've come to realize that the “Oscar Movie” is almost a subgenre unto itself and is as easily identifiable as any other.....most of them are “serious films” with opulent set design and respectable budgets.....most of them are ponderous in nature, trying to call attention to themselves as “important”. The only flick in the running I'm all that interested in seeing is “Birdman”, which sounds pretty smart and I'm a Michael Keaton fan----glad to see the guy working.

I largely dislike Award Shows and find them useless---I've noticed that whether we like them or not and whether we watch them or not, we're all compelled to talk about moments from the shows...everybody's got to weigh in on what an asshole Kanye is, and inevitably that weird NAKED LUNCH moment sinks in and we realize, “oh, no----we're TALKING ABOUT KANYE!!!!”

So I didn't watch the Oscars, but probably like everybody else, I emerged with some takeaways from our culturally-shared “Oscar Osmosis”.

ONE OF THE BIG ONES: It's always funny when someone who, objectively, is and always has been a pretty good singer, does something slightly different and everyone's jaw drops because they never realized she could sing. So, what, I guess y'all were just too mesmerized by the meat dress the whole time?

Whether you wanna cross the street for what she's selling or not is one thing, but yeah---the girl's got talent.

The larger issue that got me thinking about is the perceived opposition between talent and outre performance, and like most dichotomies it's a fake dichotomy that doesn't hold water. Outre artists always run the risk of alienating audiences but therein lies a litmus test...we're interested in those that PASS the test.

Back in the heyday of “The Abbey of the Lemur” it was a given that x number of viewers would be offended, shocked, put off, whatever. I was never interested in the people who knee-jerked and failed the test (to quote Jodorowsky; “why would you make a film for that person? They are blind!”), I was interested in the cool people who got it.

 

Another film in the Oscar mix was “American Sniper”, which has inspired a lot of passionate reactions and it's also one I'm not especially interested in seeing. I was kind of spellbound last week as the trial wound to a close and couldn't help but see it as a classic case of the Darwin Awards....I mean, what sane, intelligent person thinks it's a good idea to take a guy with PTSD to a gun range?

“Geez, Chris, what're we gonna do about the crazy guy???”

“I'm not sure, but I think he needs help....let's take him shooting!” And no disrespect meant to the dead, but....DERP!!!!!!

Okay----enough of that.

Two weeks ago (give or take) I learned that Fayetteville's PEG Cable Administrator (or whatever title it is they give to them now), Fritz Gisler, was moving on to greener pastures....I've been meaning to write about it for quite some time but am only now getting the opportunity to sit down and reflect on it.

Fritz was a polarizing figure in the Fayetteville City Government...depending on where you stood he either ushered in a new era of spic-and-span professionalism and upped the technical level of Fayetteville's Access Channels or he was complicit in ruining them. As with most things the truth was probably somewhere in the middle.

It would probably surprise a lot of people (and Fritz might be included in that) to learn that I never disliked the man. I defriended and blocked him on Facebook (something I almost never do) for Security reasons---this was 2010, in the midst of the old CAT Board's meltdown, and he was just too heavily tied into the whole thing....I had family to protect, so the cut was made.

It was a decidedly insane time in many of our lives---friends became enemies, people seemingly went crazy, the worst was brought out in a lot of people and a lot of lives were damaged...most of us moved on. Because of the arrogant, duplicitous nature of politics in general (and city government in particular)(as well as the eternal Rashumon Effect that seems pervasive in Fayetteville) some of us are resigned to the fact that we'll never know the whole story. My belief with Fritz has always been that he came into his position with a mandate....those crazy folks down at Access are always fussing, fighting and complaining....see what you can do to streamline the operation and see if you can shut up all those flaky, handwringing hippie activists down there!!!

And if that's the case, Fritz came in and did the job he was paid to do----don't hate the player---hate the game.

Some change was definitely needed at the PEG Center....whether it got what it needed or whether it just got neutered is a matter of perspective. A lot of the struggle down there was a collision of ideologies----mindsets from a corporate world versus mindsets from the activist community....tech heads versus idealogues. A Tech Head will look at a tape library and say, “is there any way we can just get rid of all these old VHS Tapes?! We could put in a whole array of state-of-the-art doohickeys along this wall!” The Idealogue's response: “Are you insane??? That's a heritage archive of this whole city! This is the story of peoples' lives, their endeavors---people who've died have been on these tapes!!!!! This is history!!!!!” They'll go round and round on these issues and they never will agree.

And so the heritage archive prevails, but it's stashed away in a prop closet where the public can't peruse it----back in the day anyone in the public could come down, comb through the library and request that any tape be aired...now the only programs the public can request are those they've produced themselves.

This is what you're left with when the Tech Heads win.

And so Public and Government Access limp along, although for the most part they just seem to be on life support....most of the time I go down there the place is all but empty. They have a lot of great new equipment that nobody seems to be using; There's a clean professionalism but no sense of community or public outreach; Using the equipment is now free if you can muddle through, what----six to eight weeks worth of classes? There seems to be a dearth of the Great Unwashed down there these days----nobody's showing up with their dog, there are less homeless and/or mentally ill and/or mentally challenged down there----so the atmosphere's nice....mostly just pretty people....when they bother to show. It's no longer “For Everybody”......is it “For Anybody”?

So....y'know.....yeah.

Fritz joined various members of VIPA at the PEG Center last time we had a meeting down there-----he seemed genuinely concerned about the way things were going and he wanted to know what we might think could be done to rekindle public interest in the place.

They could get it back----who knows? The lesson is that you don't have to throw the baby out with the bathwater. The future is unwritten.

Good luck in your travels to come, Chief.

THIS WEEK'S PLAYLIST:

THE DREAM SYNDICATE-”The Days of Wine and Roses”

THE VELVET UNDERGROUND-”The Velvet Underground and Nico”

TAME IMPALA-”Lonerism”