No Joy In Division

FEELING FEELING FEELING FEELING FEELING FEELING

FEELING FEELING FEELING FEELING FEELING FEELING

FEELING FEELING FEELING FEELING FEELING FEELING

FEEEEEEEEEEEEELING

Joy Division- Disorder

Roll Over

The Big Pink--Velvet

So I was up late and I kept thinking this song is epic as fuck as in are you kidding me how in the world plus the heavens above can someone get around the epic surge of this song, being crushed to death by the powerful clouds of love ever and I mean epic. It's a monster so I googled night mountains because it made sense epically at that moment and the search blessed me with this here painting above, which doesn't speak to the slow wave crashing epicness of the song except for the size. I'm really just asking someone to please connect the dots that lead us to this moment here because I'm not synapsing enough to think myself out of this mess, probably thanks to being crushed under the snow of the avalanche song I just listened to. Yikes man better days best be on their way soon after this night.

Around and Around

The Scientific American asks why music make us feel.

The Baseline takes a look at mental illness in the NBA.

This was filmed at the parking lot side of my dorm, no kidding.

I can't stop listening to this song.

Burial-Raver

Pay Attention

One of his students asked Buddha,

"Are you the messiah?"

"No", answered Buddha.

"Then are you a healer?"

"No", Buddha replied.

"Then are you a teacher?" the student persisted.

"No, I am not a teacher."

"Then what are you?" asked the student, exasperated.

"I am awake", Buddha replied.

Metal

“You know what? From the fucking Basement over at Grimey’s to the fields of Bonnaroo, to the fucking enormo-dome here, or whatever this place is called… three great shows in Nashville in 14 fucking months.

You know what? Metallica fucking loves Nashville.”

-Lars Ulrich

By the early aughts, Trent Reznor had grown frustrated with the way Nine Inch Nails records were being released and promoted by his label, Interscope Records. “The Internet has decimated their business, and they still don’t know how instant messaging works,” he told me. He was also depressed by the pressure from the label’s head, Jimmy Iovine, to make his records more “urban.” As Reznor saw it, “This is simply, How do we smooth off all the rough edges and make you just like what’s selling now?” Iovine commissioned a number of hip-hop remixes of Nine Inch Nails songs, all of which Reznor rejected, and Reznor soon ended the relationship. “You know what, Jimmy? Fuck you. Take that beat and shove it up Timbaland’s ass.” (via)

Take That

Primary 1 --- Hold Me Down (Foamo Remix)

Youth

"Where does inspiration come from? That's my biggest question in life. A lot of the problems we have that are brought on by our vices — like drinking too much and our egos — are what inspire us.

Could I be happy if I had a different lifestyle? I don't know.

You need to shake things up and have these experiences, even if they are fake."

-Caleb Followill

Whoops

First Up! has dibs on Kid Cudi's first single, which features MGMT and Ratatat.

Newsweek says plagiarism can happen unconsciously.

Standpoint UK addresses the Golden Age of Conspiracy.

Resident Advisor has an article about the legendary DJ Harvey and the notion of disco punk.

Veni

1. Smuggle heroin across a New Mexico desert in a flatbed truck.

2. Peyote with a Native American, also in the dessert. Put “I Saw God” on repeat and wait for an armadillo to deliver a spiritual message.

3. Punch a bald eagle to death, then throw a cook out with all my friends.

4. Grow a moustache and only wear flip flops. (Possibly include a farmer’s tan.)

5. Put a leash on my cat and take it for a walk.

6. Wear a sombrero and pancho. 4 + 6 = Awesome Overload.

7. Play “The Drop I Hold” in a cemetary. Hold a seance in attempt to conjure Ol’ Dirty Bastard’s ghost. If I succeed we’ll smoke dust and rap “Brooklyn Zoo” together.

8. Convince a southern black baptist church choir to perform “Elijah” at a Sunday service. Once again, I hope this experience will reward spiritual enlightenment.

9. Hold hands with my best friend.

10. Drink cheap bottled beer. Somehow have the most hilarious time of my life and constantly do spit takes, showering my friends in booze mist. (via)

Black Lips -- O Katrina!

Some Fun

Don't you just love getting away from it all?

The perfect Labor Day read.

Trance Doll

Pictureplane is new noise that takes house music and smears dayglo war paint all over its face. A whole mess of trancy synths get dragged through a scuzzy lowfi jungle, with a steady heavy beat bouncing like flashlights at night. Every day here is Halloween and time knows no different up here in Space on whatever planet Pictureplane is coming from. Its catchy as fuck and punk above alot else.

Pictureplane ---- Trance Doll

Get Away

Your own island somewhere in the world.

Richard Swift

The only reason you might not love Richard Swift just yet is because you don't know him. I ate pizza with him and his band a long time ago on a friday night, and laughing with him gave my enough nerve to march across the street and try my luck with this id that wasn't mine at all. I'm tall and it worked. Richard Swift opened up for the Walkmen and was easily one of the best musicians I have ever seen. Horns, brushes, early jazz, woe with a smile on your face slowly stepping out of the bar in the sun, ducking your head to put your hat on, a ballad on the FM dial as the top goes off your '56 convertible, blue cheer, its all here. Not this world's everyday singer songwriter, I like him lots.

Richard Swift --- Lady Lay

Monga Bay

The Monga Bay is great to read.

I'm excited

I can't stop listening to Kid Cudi, thanks to some help from my friends. He makes dull things interesting and there is something new to be heard at every listen, which is why Kid Cudi has been my summer. He explains his thinking behind "Day N' Nite" here. More importantly, his almost out album Man On The Moon got press previewed last night in New York and here's has the rundown in full detail. I'm excited.

The slow walk back

How the gravity of nature and the silence startle you, when you stand face to face with her, undistracted, before a barren ridge or in the desolation of ancient hills (but does it float)

Good Point

Portland is the only town where you can see a girl strip to a Tom Waits song

- Jack White (via)

Does Jack White sell tomatoes?

Free Energy

Free Energy - Dream City

Found

Book lovers never go to bed alone.

Ocean of Noise

I love noise and who doesn't really? It's essential. Our everyday is full of communication by all sorts of means to get a message across. Whatever message we intend to communicate replaces the actual noise, but noise is an important part of the message itself. Sounds matter. Pots and pans, tones, pitches, squalks, yells. Whenever you are around a foreign language for a long interrupted period of time, the words flying by just become sounds or instruments, like that Sigur Ros singer.

Kids have forever tried to figure out what the fuck is being said in any given Sigur Ros song, until the true purpose suddenly dawns on them. In an interview, the lead singer Jon Por Birgisson said the vocals consisted mostly of emotive syllables and phonemes or "just gibberish to fit the music". His voice is an instrument, another dimension of sound to bounce off the other noises being made. I think most people need to listen to metal in the same respect instead of complaining about how they can't understand what's being said. Lyrics do matter, but it helps to try and see music differently, hear the noise as it is. But that's hard to do because we as human being naturally order, compare, and contrast things to make sense of them. Noise is a bother because its form giving and escapes organization.

Noise is essential because it conveys a whole different dimension to the experience. I was blessed to be at Lollapalooza this past weekend and I read an article about the lady left of stage that would sign the lyrics of whoever's playing for the deaf in the hard of hearing section nearby. She said in an interview that the hardest part of sign language was conveying metaphors. Think about that. She has to convey the message as its suppose to be presented. In other words, successfully translate the full emotion of the song's content and noise. On the sly, this lady also said that the hardest lyrics to sign was Radiohead last year.

All this to say my favorite makers of noise Lightning Bolt have a new album coming out in November called Earthly Delights. Watch the video and dance along.

Anything Goes

Finish each day and be done with it You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities have crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered by your old nonsense.

-Emerson

I ate Sweats today and it was the sweetest kiss off to the summer ever. It was 2:30 or so, with the sun starting its sideways lean off the top of the sky and my late lunch plate was gone so fast. Fried chicken, green beans with a roll two butters and the upmost clutch order of the day being blackberry cobbler. Will Wright ate his fill and Harrison did well enough with a bowl of macaroni. Liz threw down a full plate as well. Healthy.

The pool felt fantastic and I realized how much I'm going to miss this pace of life under the sun, living fast and landing slowly, all to a steady beat. Getting as much done as one can creatively muster with no consequences, no pressure not a big deal if didn't meet quota and make the absolutely most of today. There is always tomorrow but more importantly, there is tonight.

Last night, I was standing in a narly lit driveway, head back downing my drink and I saw the most beautiful shooting star blaze its way across the night sky and I wished to never forget the wisdom of summer. Summer days always seem so long sometimes, just begging to be filled with all sorts of pursuits, thoughts, wishes, whatifs, whynots, what the fuck is stopping us? That motivation to do what you love and what needs to happen is the best stimulus in the world. And if it all falls to pieces, there's always tomorrow. Every morning I've got a new chance.

This ramble is just to say everything here is due for a good rearrange soon.

Nouvelle Vague- Too Drunk To Fuck

Brand

Sorry for the long wait

something new and huge is coming soon

Finally

I've been home almost two week now. As surreal as it still is, I'm beginning to lose the whole wide eyed look and starting to show some true colours, or at least trying to. It is overwhelming though. My sister is so much taller now. My brother is huge and he knows it. His best friend is now about taller than me. My room is a different colour and my car has a new transmission, so it catches faster than it used to. Two trees are gone from the yard. Father Ryan is building a football field. The left turn light on Hillsboro now gives more than an green arrow when turning onto Granny White. I'm noticing all these things. My head get swamped from conversations I understand. Crazy. 

It is the very best feeling in the world being back home, but even then it still marks the end of something good. I can't bring myself to think about this past year in the former tense just yet. The true significance of it all has not yet enlightened me either, but that's probably because it hasn't quite ended yet, wrapped and shelved next other important moments from ago. 

I feel like a different person, but a wiser set of eyes will decide whether that's true or not. 

The best I can to do is just be here and love it with abandon. I come to realize that there is nothing wrong with the answer I Don't Know, as long as its not an excuse for doing nothing. I can't even have a clue to know what's next in the big scheme of things. But I've come to see the beauty in that right there, the looming uncertainty of a thousand decisions, mistakes, slights, insights, chance meetings and wrong turns left ahead for everyone to stumble upon when the time comes. Trying to look that far ahead into things just freezes one up, afraid to move. 

Looking back merits the same effect too. Lord knows everyone regrets something, and focusing too much on that mistake and its ridiculousness or not letting it repeat itself is idolatry almost, robbing you of the present moment. 

I'm reading some book that explains how history moves along through time on a linear scale that consists of dots, which are instances. The dots however are not small predictable events that gradually build up to a large predictable outcome, which is the way many folks in economics and academia see the world. History moves along thanks to drastic unpredictable events that come out of nowhere and throw a loop in everyone's notions of control on Wall Street. The point is that the only definite thing in the world is uncertainty. And its liberating to finally become at peace with that, to accept the uncertainty for what it is instead of outright denying it and huddling away with everything under control, an arm's length away. Moments ebb and flow and peace is found by just going with it. Only then can you rest easy and ramble on into whatever happens.

I don't know what I'm going to do with this blog. I love writing on it and have a bone to pick with the fact that it got shelved for a good long while. We'll see. 

DFA1979 singer sings the blues

Sebastian Grainger- (Are There) Ways To Come Home

Too Much Love

In truth, I've been under mounds of guilt because of seemingly ignoring this writing and whatnot. It was unavoidable for a spell and I can't compensate for that, but oh well. I love Beirut, let me tell you about it.

I have now, in grace, upgraded from donkey taxis to red blooded, real life automobiles, steered not by a whip and with an engine stronger than 1 Horse Power. Every morning brings the same twenty minute ride across town and out a ways to the refugee camp, where I teach two english classes a day. However, what goes around comes around. On my way to teach in the mornings, I have class of my own, brought to me by the middle aged taxi drivers that get me there. Taxi drivers here are like the deacons of the city, and they carry themselves (and drive) in a happily aggresive manner. Similar to the Russian babushkas, the old grandmothers who bowled over you like down jacketed cannonballs for a seat in the subway. If it was the slightest bit on the cold side outside, these old women would have a fit and make a spectacle, publically scolding you for not wearing a hat. Tough love. The taxi drivers here teach you Arabic in the same way, leaning all the way over on your side of the car so that their in mouth cigarette is scorching your ear with every jaw drop as they yell all kinds of introductions, greetings, Hello! I love you! I am tall! I am lost! trying their best to hammer home as many phrases as they can into you for twenty minutes. That's the mornings. The lunchtime talks on the ride back home aren't really mellow, they just aren't directed at you directly. Like, they aren't arresting your ears. Its more mutual. They carry on about politics and ask more questions about family, age, where should they be taking me. All in the same way as before. Tough love in a Middle Eastern manner.

Anchorman? 40 Year Old Virgin? Knocked Up? Forgetting Sarah Marshall? The Ten? Walk Hard and now Year One with Jack Black? I think Paul Rudd is one of the funniest men on the planet.

I am now Joakiming like never before. (Ewwwwwww)

Coming home soon.

Really

Rolling Stone loves this band lots as in alot alot.

This video might rival the Sex On Fire video for Ridiculousness too.
Someone in Nashville please get this issue for me. I'll trade you a gyro.

Hey Ruth

Ethiopia is now long gone, old news passed away and so be it. I'm not too happy with them for blocking blogspot dot com and charging $40 for a SIM card, both matters left me high and dry away from the rest of the world's happenings. But that was then and now is Beirut.

Beirut is tough as nails and beautiful because of it. The country of Lebanon has managed to survive cuts from a thirty year civil war and a conflict with Israel, both at the very same time. The city of Beirut is still a post war zoned city of broken buildings, tanks, guns guns guns, live wires, and roadblocks oddly scattered in the wholesomly gorgeous Mediterranean climate of palm trees and cafes. The Paris of the Middle East, Party Capital of the Islamic World, let the truth be known that Beirut is beautiful. I'm lucky to be here, forced to cope with the everyday struggle of the Beirutian five girls to one guy ratio. The New York Times knows, since they just voted Beirut into the Top Place To Visit in 2009.

The rumours are true, things don't really calm down here. You've got maniacal drivers and the air pollution from their old, smoking Mercedes taxis, star universities, bars to rival Soho and coffee thicker than mud, political demonstrations, and that darn five to one ratio all at once. Add people so friendly you’ll swear it can’t be true, a political situation existing on a knife-edge, and gallery openings that continue in the face of explosions and protest . Beirut is alive and here I am.

and here I am here. The biggest culture shock in the world doens't come from the initial introduction, the moment you realize trying times are indeed ahead and you've got to brace yourself, mind, body, and spirit in order to keep your head above water. Hunker down and take it. But thats not the biggest culture shock. The biggest culture shock is going from last to first, zero to hero, nothing to austerity. Five days ago, I was walking through the mud at midnight, unable to flag down a donkey taxi, and trying to find my way home in the dark. All the shops were closed and the dogs were out, picking themselves through all of the day's trash. I had just rented two Jackie Chan movies because all my books were long finished, but ten minutes into my sludge home, the distrct power cut off and I was now in darkness, just like the rest of Semsi, south Addis Ababa. No power, no nothin' and I was pissed, so much so that I quit watching my step long enough to slub my toe long and hard on a rock. When getting the mud off the next morning, I found that I had lost Toenail Number Four. The very next day, I was picked up from the airport in Beirut in a BMW 745i, and ate KFC to go.

I'm put up on the tenth top floor of a building that looks out over the Mediterranean Sea and up at the mountains of snow further in the distance. The husband is a philanthropist and the wife is a painter. They have a 19 year old daughter who loves Notorious B.I.G. and Che. Last night, there were ten deaths in a gang shooting just outside. I was out eating on sushi, but I heard the shots walking to the car. Driving home, Natalie and I saw folks walking, arm in arm around the crew taking notes and cleaning up everything, all at the end of another day in the life.

I've been like this
Jesus & Mary Chain-----Head On

Ethiopia

Some True

The best exotic pet in the world is a giraffe, but the best, somewhat possible choice would be a Galapagos Turtle as moving lawn art.

Bohemian Rhapsody holds a case for the Best Song Ever.

When time travel finally shows up, watching the worlds largest wave ever from a hot air balloon is on my Must List.

The vocal sequence about two minutes into Kelly Clarkson's Since U Been Gone, when she sings and talks to herself, is one of the best moments in recent pop music history.

If I could do it again, I would want to lice in New York era 1977 or Chicago mid 1920's.

The essence of emo music didn't start with one revolutionary album or band, but rather the translation between Weezer's The Blue Album and Pinkerton.

The best moments in life can't be captured and that's true for a reason. Definition and completely wrapping your mind around something, be it art or whatnot, takes away from the mystique behind it all, which is why Bigfoot still stays in the news and Jazz is loved so much.

Lou Reed was a pirate in his past life.

Major label hip hop is doomed in 2009 thanks to every artist losing the album focus and chasing that next hit single. Folks need to quit chasing the scene and make something their own, but the error is mostly the labels fault for not letting artists be themselves. Kanye WEst is due credit, but shoul focus more on producing. Lil Wayne should put out a greatest hits album every year.

Dispatch

The world is slow here in Ethiopia but it gets grace because the middle of nowhere is rarely know to be anything else. The land is a mess of green jungle struck in a desert air; nights are freezing and the day is hardly at all. I am teaching eight grades of English a day in the shade, starting early and ending around lunch at best. The kids are hilarious and only sit still when stunned at their teacher acting worse than they do. But they learn her and there and I teach like I only know how. Baboons troupe through the garden when walking to class in the morning and hyenas start sounding off before the sun sets. The whole place is wild life but of a different fashion from the skelter of Uganda. There is a bone of peace here thanks to nature enveloping everything. Not to mention being ten miles away from internet and without electricity for evenings during the week. This is just a smat of what all's happening. 

More soon too.

Easy

What world do we live in where Antony & the Johnson's new album The Crying Light enters the European charts at the number One slot, selling 10,000 copies in a tiny island nation with one fifth the population of the United States, where it debuts at 65 and sells an expected 7,837 copies. How is it that the greatest nation in the world is so backwards when it comes to the arts? Is the radio that awful in the United States or are the Europeans just just more sophisticated? Only interest is delved in the lowest common demoninator, the easy sell. Pretty ridiculous.

Antony Hegarty donated his vocals to disco DFA troupe Hercules & Love Affair in what's heralded as Song of the Year for 2008. Here is the night drive true colours remix. Real.
Hercules & Love Affair- Blind (Freddie Knuckles remix)

Egypt

Egypt is, above all else, old. The oldest things I'll ever see in my life are here, next to all the sand and smoke. Of course all the monuments and such were just an masked excuse to see my father, who wished he was flying here domestic like me.

My first evening was something else, looking back on it. I arrived pretty late from Uganda, two days before the start of the tour. I came off the plane dirty and eager, and was taken to a hotel a few lights away on the bank of the Nile, the nicest hotel I've ever stayed at. I caused a stir, waltzing into the lobby all wide eyed, dirty, cigarette dangling, shirt buttoned all the way up, and a synthesizer of all things under my arm. The evening's festivities were well underway and I wasn't at all fitting the black tie notice, much less the Egyptian nationality one. Looks of awe were all over both partys' faces, and I couldn't care less. I went Ape in the room, turning everything on and off, and tried on all the robes robe before going to bed.

The week flew by just as time flies. One cannot help but to be overwhelmed by the size, age, and perfection of the pyramids. Whenever I go to art museums and galleries, half the fun is figuring out how in the world would I steal the paintings before me. This doesn't translate well into the ancient world of chariots, pyramids, and stone tombs, but I was all over the conspiracies the pyramids naturally conjure up. Pretty ridiculous.

Going from austerity to struggling requires thought. Suck It Up, You Can Do This. You brace yourself. But if you going from not much to everything at once, there is no thought. You lose yourself immediately. I think I gained 20 pounds.

I was just happy to see my father. We sat and talked and talked forever, breakfast to long into the evenings, and it never seemed like enough. Everything under the sun was paid due attention, with college, basketball, what's next, and home as the highlights. I'm leaving the week with one big Life is Good reminder, in case I didn't know.

Megapuss-Crop Circle Jerk '94
Neil Young-Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere
Kid Cudi- Day 'N Night (Crookers Remix)

So Long

Tonight marked my very last night in Uganda, and it brings about a big mix of feelings to reckon with. I had dinner with friends out at some great place I'd never even heard of. The owner was a nice Indian man who explained his most recent book about spirituality after give us the lowdown on the pumpkin soup in front of us. It was the ginger that we couldn't put our finger on. The rest of the night just rolled and it was everything I love about Uganda in one fell swoop. 

I have been told I sugarcoat things on occasion, not telling the all of every experience and how I feel about things. Everyone probably is guilty of that to a point, in conversation, writing, or otherwise. But writing is a medium that suffers for its definition. All my thoughts may be focused on progress and never being truly comfortable with the current state of things, but if I try to capture it all in writing everything but the progress shines through. And my thinking about Uganda and Africa has certainly changed leaps and bounds over time, something not easily captured right here.

By and large, it's not all curtains but it is certainly close. There is no other way to say it. Africa faces a near and present doom is something doesn't give. That's not just cynical either. To live here with a thinking mind and an open heart is to become swept up in the tide of life that is everywhere at once, for good and for bad. Ugandians are truly the nicest folks you can ever come across. They put southern hospitality to shame with their huge smiles and genuine kindness. But the essence of humanity has two very obvious sides, something western culture blends and hides much more subtly. 

Somalia marks a low point in humanitarianism in the 1990's. While the United States was guilty of quite a few wrongdoings, people truly were not prepared for the situation they were faced. The same people that cried out for food and simple needs in turn killed the people trying their best to help them out. 

The only thing I'm sure of is that I don't know much at all. I know I don't like conflict and I'll do my best to solve it however possible. The biggest conflict I come across in Uganda is the general complaint towards a lack of money. That's no doubt true just about everywhere, but here especiall true. My biggest call at the moment is to somehow show the folks I speak, live, interact with every single day that they have the resources to do their best and succeed in business, it just takes a different vision in seeing each and every day. Africa is the best place for business in the world at the moment because the resources are everywhere and the markets simply are not at all. And who to best capitalize on the opportunity than the people that live amongst it all? The missing link, to me, is a proactive approach toward solving the problem. Instead of pointing fingers, get out and solve it yourself. My recognizing of all this is thanks to me learning the very same lesson. But I guess that I just don't know.

I was only suppose to spend maybe three weeks in Uganda. Ethiopia was the main focus and life at Cornerstone in Kampala was just en route to Ethiopia. But I never actually counted on falling in love with life here. I do hope to return in the future, by however means necessary. Year off deux.

Egypt comes tomorrow, where I finally get to see my dad for the first time in forever. We'll take off on some sugar free venture on the old folks cruise down the Nile, see camels, and figure out the deal about college. You know more than I do. Thanks for reading all this rambling on's, whoever you are. Its just me ironing out my thoughts. The nasty dreds are next. 

Cheers

I have been gone a long time. My six weeks or so venture around West Africa turned out to be the hardest doing I've ever signed up for, a feeling mutual held between me and the two others on the trip, Eric and Kristen. Life is full of struggle, so the wonder is why throw yourself out there to just make it worst? It wasn't at all that bad and I wasn't really making anything worst. While I'm happy to be back in Uganda, I'm just as happy for keeping cheer through out the whole ordeal. I might never want to go back to some of those places, and yet, still have hopes to visit others. We didn't stay very long anywhere, but long enough to get a broad feel of the local going on's. For places like Timbuktu, there wasn't much at all happening or worth seeing, but that certainly wasn't true of everywhere.

Ghana was a surprise and easily one of my favorite stops. It was the very first on the list of nine total countries and was the longest of our stays, a whole five days in one place. The whole country is rainforest and the coastline is said to be one of the best in West Africa. A series of old Dutch castles from the 1600's dot the coastline, which adds a romantic feel of old history to the view of white sand and palm trees. We only made it to the beach once though. 

Ivory Coast came next and it was just all trash. There was so much trash all over the place. I honestly didn't think much of it and it definitely did not live up to its exotic sounding name.

My lowest moment of the trip was Christmas morning in Ougadougou, the capital of Burkina Faso. We had just finished a monster three day trainride and pulled into town at around 4:00 AM. While the average marathon runner probably could crush the pace we set, the traveling circumstance wasn't nearly as bad as my own dilemmas. I was under the weather with a sinus infection and had just gotten my daypack stolen during my few winks of sleep. Fortunately, my passport or clothes weren't included but the Ipod, camera, journal, drumsticks and whatever else fancied my impulse were snatched up. There wasn't anything I could do about it, so I just kept blowing my nose and tried my best not to make it worst, mostly by writing a country song called "Somebody Owes Me A Christmas". You heard it here first.

The two day boat ride to Timbuktu was a deserved change of pace away from hustling across borders on buses, trains, and whatnot. We followed the Niger as it curled through the desert and seeing hippos backdropped by sprawls of sand dunes was a sight to behold. The Kings are right though, it is indeed cold in the desert. There wasn't a light in sight at night and the stars were gorgeous, it was just too cold to stay unsleepingbagged for very long. 

Apparently, there is a nightclub in New York that only lets you in if you have a stamp from Timbuktu in your passport.

Trekking through the Dogon country topped all other places in my book. We spent three days struggling our way over, under, and around this huge mesa in the middle of the desert. Not much has changed in the life of the Dogon people maybe since the invention of the wheel and it was neat to glimpse a true picture of a traditional culture. The huge rocks and brownish red tint to everything made you feel like you were on Mars. I loved it.

After a two day, no lie, two day bus ride we finally made it to our last stop. Dakar is the capital of Senegal and was a great place to calm down and find the strength to eventually make it back home. The beach is nearby and the buildings are all pastel coloured and sandwashed, which is a great feel, plus the french influence is huge so all the cafes and streetside trees made for a real Parisesque, Charleston South Carolina aura. We didn't stay long, but it would have been nice. Either way, I'm glad to be home.

There is definitely something liberating about traveling well below your means, on the level shared by the folks around you. On one bus ride in Mali, I didn't have a seat. For 8 or so hours, I just stood or sat on the steps. To get a gasp of breeeze meant rolling the window down and exposing yourself to the goats on top, which had no reservations about peeing on everything below.  Certainly no fun, but who was I to complain? The people nearby, breastfeeding, on stools drinking tea, they do this every week almost. There is definitely truth in the saying that once you're at the bottom, the only place to go is up. Even though I now fear buses, I might never complain about another long Getting There ever again. With that said, everyday is just another day closer to home. What I've discovered is that the beauty is in the process.

What cures malaria?

Beach Boys-Sloop John B

West Africa

Hark! In sympathy no doubt, I've been swept up into this one long tour venturing around West Africa for the holdiays. Christmas in West Africa? No rhyme or reason just glad to go. The first stop is Ghana for a few days and then the rest falls in place as it was meant to be. Ivory Coast, Mali, Senegal, I don't really know just yet. But count on a few escapades worth hearing about. Things finished at the International School with ease. Basketball is no longer a thing on TV and I got to read a fair share of books so win*win without a doubt. With college as the exception, I'm actually not doubting the sway of things to come much either. But rumor has it that West Africanism strikes fear in the young hearts of the lost and mapless. So for those that bother, stay tuned. I'm away, but only for a moment's notice. Don't worry. In the meantime, love the Muppet's Christmas Carol and being home for Christmas, two things I miss this time of year (besides City of Palms RIP and high school basketball) Spin Magazine has a great end of the year music deal. Good tiding to you, wherever you are.

Just Thinking

I've been having these all these business minded idears here in Africa and I'm pretty sure there are one or two thoughts that could make millions if done right. I'll never tell though.

Riddem

Art is a mirror of the individual and given the fact that people are just about everywhere, the many fashions of self expression can reflect the current state of all things social, political, and cultural. That's a pretty broad association but, right and wrong, it's in mind. I'm using this train of thought to get to know whatever part of the world I end up haunting for a spell, with music as the focus. In short, the music here is fascinating for a thousand different reasons.

Africa, specifically Uganda, is caught in a tryst between tradition and progress, like many places in the world. Such an ordeal is captured perfectly in the local music. The cheery Caribbeanesque guitar sounds and sunny vocals that previously coloured life around town are still around, but hanging by a moment. What's New that is beginning to sweep into the scene is a medley of past influences and everything bad about American Top 40 radio. The difference is electronics. The Beanie Manesque vocals that get watered through Pro Tools then stacked onto recycled dancehall beats is a congregation torn between tradition and modern urbania, something not completely original. But that's just the radio. There are of course quite a few shining moments.
Here are the first of my favorites.

BLK JKS hail from South Africa and the noise they make is glorious. A safe spell would have them as Africa's Mars Volta, but even that is a bit distant. Sun drenched jazz at a metal pace meets waves of reverb. TV On The Radio if they rocked. I can't do it justice, see for yourself.
BLK JKS- Lakeside

Soul

Despite its unorthodox speed-meets-weed compositions, the self-titled cassette [Banned in DC] was essentially a sonic pamphlet for the group's increasingly extensive PMA philosophy."We're the thinking man's punk, so we know our message is that of peace and love and Positive Mental Attitude. That's what we really stood and stand for. In music, we have a background of progression. When I imagine a riff, it's like a big wall falling down. If I pick up my guitar and I say to myself, 'You sellout,' then I say, 'All right, watch this- this is a song about sellouts.' And from there, my imagination will let me create, from my musical experiences, what a sellout introduction riff is going to be. I guess that's a blessing that I have, and me and Doc and Earl and all of us together, that we're able to do this.

The next key is keeping at it.
That's when you advance.
That's when you progress in anything.'"
-Daryll Jenifer of Bad Brains.

Spooky

There is a bottom to everything, even the spooky mysteries of the world. In Russia, the whole notion of the Mafia's subtle meddlings in politics and such fascinated the living daylights out of me. I wanted to learn as much as possible without getting my hands dirty. My efforts eventually paid off. I didn't meet the grand Kossak Wizard of Oz, but did in fact talk to someone actually in the Mafia. Creepy indeed.

Not as creepy as the Satanist I met out and about but that's a B*Side tale for later.

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My mind trumps religion and nature over politics though, and nothing is better than Africa if you're looking for reason escaping organic conundrums. Yikes! They are just about everywhere, from the last dinosaur allegedly in the Congo to a giant snake that lives off cow sacrifices in a lake tucked away in South Africa to the ever popular witchcraft. Witchcraft has somehow survived 200 years of colonization, missionaries, non profit organizations, and globalization to in turn dominate the papers recently here in Uganda. Obama no longer dominates the front headlines thank to a recent good natured incedent of Child Sacrifice that went down a few nights ago here in Kampala. I can't do the article justice, read it for yourself. I went for a walk through the market here in town yesterday and stumbled across the "herbal" alleyt that had all fashions of spears, pipes, animal skins, brown liquids, and jazz like so. How in the world can Africa demand any sort of legitimacy in the global political swing of things when the only obvious step taken toward progress are in the obvious wrong direction? I want a shirt that says Stop Child Sacrifice. Protect and entertain.

The rainy season has ended here and now it's hot every day.

Patti Smith might be the most creative person alive on the planet. I'm certain this is true.

All I Know

What in the world do I know?
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+ Sweatshirt and flip flops are tokens of the best weather imaginable.

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There are no pets here in Africa. Africans beat dogs up. They have no qualms about eating them too. If you seriously walk near or recognition a dog here in Uganda, they will scamper away from you with the same sort of energy dogs in America greet you with. It's sad but true. Africans are not at fault for doing this, it's just the natural result reasoned by the thinking of very simple minds. Africans treat dogs as dogs, plain and simple. People in America pamper their animals in reckless abandon and in turn, the animals develop a learned behavior strikingly similar to their masters. The same is true for us though. CS Lewis once said "God treats men like gods so that they would strive to be like him." The same is true for dogs as well.

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Graphology is my affair of interest at the moment. It blows my mind how often unconscious thoughts are reflected through the simple mediums, like handwriting.

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The Killers new album, Day & Age is rumored to be their very best of their four year career. I actually liked Sam's Town, even though the rest of America wouldn't agree with me. But nothing defines late night new wave pop music like Hot Fuss. The only way to tell if Day & Age tops the previous two releases is if births just as many singles as their debut.
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NME's Cool List of 2008 was worth reading only because of their MGMT entry. I'll save you some time. *2008 saw the words "shamanic" and "cosmic" bandied around more recklessly than at any time since 1973, and it was primarily down to MGMT's bandana-clad frontman, the blissed-out figurehead for a new generation of inner-vision voyagers.*
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True beauty is a free spirit.
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Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival.

-CS. Lewis-

Gobama

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The day after Obama won the election, Kenyan newspaper The National ran the headline "We Did It". Africa didn't do anything. Obama can't and won't conjure up spotless roads and solve african hunger. Africa can only solve this problem. Poverty will only be eradicated without the help of any foreign aid if only Afican leaders should stop laundring money overseas to fill ther foreign accounts. Leaders need to understand that they are public servants and should be held responsible of misappropriate of public fund. Obama clearly understands the problem even though the rest of the world views Africa as a waste of time. The next President of the United States of America is a smart man who knows not to stash cash on a sinking life raft.

Sphere

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Michael Crichyon died yesterday in Los Angeles at the age of 66. He is best remembered for his fantastic bestsellers "Sphere", "Rising Sun", "The Andromeda Strain", and most notably "Jurassic Park". He was also the creator of the very successful television show "ER". Science fiction to him was never some outer space alien invasion phenomenon, but real life science with a twist that always intrigued and always stirred up controversy. Sexual politics, medical and scientific ethics, anthropology, archaeology, economics, astronomy, astrology, quantum physics, and molecular biology all personally interested him. Nothing was too prosaic or obscure for his liking and his greatest quality was breathing life into the world's mysteries of science. Steven Spielberg was a friend for over 40 years. "He was the greatest at blending science with big theatrical concepts, which is what gave credibility to dinosaurs again walking the Earth. Michael was a gentle soul who reserved his flamboyant side for his novels. There is no one in the wings that will ever take his place."

Janks

“Men of integrity, by their very existence, rekindle the belief that as a people we can live above the level of moral squalor. We need that belief; a cynical community is a corrupt community.”

- John W. Gardner, American writer & Secretary of Health

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It's hailing in Uganda right now.

No kidding.
The picture of things here in Uganda is begins to come to light and believe me when I say that it is truly ridiculous. Every day shines light upon another shade of bedlam that defines modern Africa. The root of all this tomfoolery is hard to put a finger on, but I'ma gonna try my best.
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Uganda is flat out backwards. Driving to school in the morning captures a beautiful picture of how things work here. They don't work. Traffic lights actually work but their only purpose is decoration, since no one pays any attention at all to them. Policemen stand at the rim of traffic circles and furiously blow their whistles at cars, showing drivers to putter This way! around the circle, acting like their job has some sort of a purpose at all. Since not many folks can afford a car, most people walk but its not really walking. They seem to walk as slowely as possible, as if they have nowhere to go. This slow canter pace perfectly complements the Ugandian tendency to completely disregard social cues, like "Hey, I can stroll with ease across street since those cars are absolutely going to stop for me." So many accidents happen every single day from simple minds thinking like so. On average, 12 to 20 people die weekly on Entebbe Road, my road traveled on the way to school.

Outrageous.
It all seems to string back to this notion I've noticed ever since Day One.
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African, specifically Ugandians, have this off way of seeing life. The gift of life is without a doubt everywhere in Africa, but is taken for granted at the very same time. I believe this to be true because of the African tendency to act only in accordance to the primative inclination of human nature. With the influence of other social variables like tribalism, one big furious mess rises to the surface. Ugandian men here work maybe four hours a day, no kidding, which is a number halfed by the number kids they end up having. No lie. Women in Uganda bless the world with an average amount of 5.8 kids in urban areas and a gross 7.1 kids in rural areas. No worries though, right? The killer is that the Mom & Pop Mgabe end up denying any responsibility for raisin the raisins because they have faith in the "tribe". Communial living will take care of it all, no doubt. The rudeness is that it obviously never happens. Life is everywhere but completely disregarded. USAID estimates that 1.1 million children are orphaned by HIV alone in Uganda, let alone negligence. These children grow up and again it begins.
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I'm not meaning to harp or gloat over all this plight in Africa, god forbid make fun of the struggle here. I'm just being honest. What I call out is just fingerfood in the menu of follies here. The same goes for every issue. Something always lies beneath the surface.

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Yesterday, a giant gas tanker steered sharply to miss a motorcycle zipping through traffic and surged into two bustaxis, both of which were carrying 18 passengers, four past the maximum limit. 37 people died in total and 60 people were injured. Eyewitnesses rushed to the scene but not to aid the injured. Instead, they looted the dead and the alive, and filled up their pots and pans up to the brim with the leaking gasoline.
That has nothing to do with poverty and squalor. That's a host of character flaws and an overall moral indifference that very much has to do with poverty and squalor. Africa would be best to stop pointing fingers and adopt a Pro Active approach toward fixing their profilthy dillema. Morality is the cornerstone to cultural sustainment, not just some custom snatched up in passing.

These

sooo badly.
P.O. Box 9242 Kampala, Uganda
Ha!
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"I've changed music four or five times.
What have you done of any importance other than be white?"
Miles Davis attended a reception in honor of Ray Charles at Ronald Reagan's White House in 1987. This was his reply to a Washington society lady seated next to him who had asked him what he had done to be invited.
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"Try taking the fucking horn out of your mouth."
Miles Davis was questioning the increasing length of John Coltrane solos,
and Trane answered "I don't know how to stop."

Kids

Friday ends my week on the job here at the International School here in Kampala. I'm just a simple teaching assistant helping out in the library and in PE, my two favorite classes in elementary school so it's a good fit. Early mornings but fast internet, cheap food, endless basketball, and something to look forward to every day. The three other bedrooms at the house save home I'm haunting are now all cleared out and empty, so things aren't as exciting as they used to be. But with a library now in my life, I'm getting my read fixxx so that's sweet like treats.

The International School has close to 500 students in grades PK--12 and hosts 53 different nationalities, so it's truly International. They also incorporate the IB curiculum, which is similar to AP but they find some common thread to link all the classes together. For example, the fifth graders played flag football in PE yesterday, but since they are studying systems of government in class, it was Anarchy Flag Football. We just gave them flags, belts, and a football and told them Have at it, No rules. It was hilarious. Fifth graders are just raw human nature. Boys made touchdowns 100 points, but only the girls made them -10. Its wild and I love going home tired every night. The school is glad they finally have someone who can best relate to seven year olds.

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Bodas are the only way to travel here. It's the African peer of the Russian Gypsy taxi. Basically a strapping young vagrant on a motorcycle, who racially profiles customers and bought a driver's license instead of earning it. You get places fast, but you sometimes wonder if you'll ever see your final destination. I'm not just refering to the Boda's sincere concern for your welbeing. I responsibly slept in on Wednesday and my ride flat out left me. I was stuck to fend for myself and I asked a Boda for a lift. Fifteen minutes later, some geezer straight hit me in the head with a broom handle. It done knocked me off the boda onto a 8 AM traffic bumper and last night's rain puddle. I"m laying on the ground and this old man is standing over me going for the knockout shot with his Moses staff and I'm just like "Another day in the life...." I kicked his arm, grabbed my backpack, and hopped back on my astonished Boda driver, who now feared for his life since some Most Wanted fugative was riding behind. He just drove faster to get me off and out of his sight. I needed ice and had a headache all morning. Let's be frank. I love something completely different but I have no idea why Pops took a swat at me Wednesday morning.

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I just finished my first college application.

Mastodon has a new album coming out.

Coachella rumors are in full swing.

(Strokes Bowie Misfits Outkast Killers Zeppelin)
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The Stooges-Down On The Street