I bring proof of the demonic pact.

I had hoped to bring you proof of Les Claypool's demonic pact, but instead I can only act as a witness to this event.

To make it up to you, I have located a video of Les in his true form.


The solo act preceedings of Gabby La La were extremely grating (think ukelele strumming with a grown woman screeching in a baby-voice falsetto), but other than that the concert was well worth the price of admission. This is the point where I returned to the bar and used my drink ticket on a ten dollar thimbleful of rum and coke.

Most of the show was 2 hours of world-class musicians soloing their brains out. It was great fun to watch and listen to, the highlight being the introduction of the upright bass followed by a twenty minute drumoff between two top-notch percussionists and topped off with Les playing the Whamola.

Basically the Whamola is an electric variant of the washtub bass. After doing some digging on the interwebs, I found a couple places with info on how to build one. Check out the bottom of this thread for a few hints.

Whamola info in general is surprisingly sparse, but here's a paper written by a guy that built one for a class in college.

FINALLY: CHECK OUT THIS TRAILER.
In the upcoming movie Electric Apricot: Quest for Festeroo, Les plays the drummer in the fictional jam band Electric Apricot. Coolies.

Les Claypool has a deal with the devil

Les Claypool has a deal with the devil. I am totally convinced he is going to hell when he dies to repent for being such an awesome goddamn bass player. I'm checking out his progress to damnation on the 27th of May at the Rave in Milwaukee.

Only $20 to see a man's path to his own eventual destruction? What a deal. Hopefully it will look like this:




AWESOME.

**Philosophic Crap Alert**

While I'm waiting for all this paint to dry, I figured I might as well channel some thoughts thru the ePen and onto the ePaper... hopefully without getting my keyboard all pink. Already spilled some pink primer on the rug by the door. Way to go, Chandon!

I've been going thru a period of change lately. Such is life. Makes me wonder what the point is though...

What is the meaning of life?

This of course is an age old question. But! I'm sick of the answers like "Life is what you make it" or similar fortune cookie crap.

As I open the second Newcastle Brown on an empty stomach, I ponder the life of a human:

We are born.

We eat, shit, and scream. These are things we never really stop doing.

We fuck. Ok, so that's necessary to propagate the species. Instinctual. Also very enjoyable: Bonus!

(Sidebar: it's entertaining how two of the filthiest words in the English language are for natural processes. Big ups to fucking and shitting!)

We die. Hell yeah we do. In an entertaining variety of ways, to boot. There are so many ways to kill a human it's ridiculous. Watching the news definately won't help anyone who's scared of thier own mortality already.

So, one might say "point a, to point b, the point of life is death."

A simple answer at that, but effective!

(Better that what I came up with: Two hookers and an eight ball.)

What about everything else that we as homosapiens experience in life? Things we think that matter, be they real or imagined. Love. Justice. Compassion. Revenge. Money. Power. Fame. I'm sure there's a valid and compelling argument for any of these things to be the meaning of life, but not for everyone. Which leads to another fortune cookie, "The meaning of life is in the eye of the beholder." Man I love Chinese food.

The earth is about 4.5 billion years old. Our species has been on it for a scant 200-400 thousand of those years. I think it's pretty safe to say that the chunk of rock we are standing on is still going to be there long after the expiration of mankind (which--if you believe the media-- is going to be any day now).

My point is this: nothing we do now, or will ever do in the future, will really --REALLY-- matter. At all. At least, to the course and fate of the universe... and this is true despite how self-important you might be. Even if humans survive, eventually the sun will burn out and become a supernova, thrusting the world into a deep freeze.

The way I see it, our lives have an expiration date. Might as well enjoy yourself while it lasts. Indulge those animal instincts. Take in some music. Get a hobby. Myself, for example: I'm going to try my hand at being a rock musician (again).

Fearing death is lost on me. And while I'm sure I'd mess my pants if I knew it was imminent, I still know it is a transitory state. One of the most widespread human fears is that of mortality, which basically translates to fear of the unknown. And you know you're gonna die. So quit being scared, get the fuck off that treadmill, order a cheeseburger and hit on that coworker you've been eyeing up for the past month.

I am pink

Not just me, my apartment is pink also. I'm repainting a couple walls in my apartment today. Supposed to be red eventually, but the pigmented primer color is pink. Big ups to the people at Home Depot for the tips, by the way.

SO: for the next couple days I will have two hot pink walls in my living room. Badass. If anyone comes to visit I will just tell them I am having transgender surgery and want my apartment to match.

Anyways--

You might have noticed, if reading this at all (which I very much doubt anyone is) that this is a place for me to throw my lyrics ideas. Feel free to leave comments, since I am basically throwing my crap on the wall to see what sticks and what sinks. Without the music it is basically structured rhyme poetry. Guess we all need a little structure in our lives.

Speaking of which, I'm adding a little structure to this blog. You might see big parts of posts that say ** Personal BS Alert** or **I am gushing about random thing**. These can be skipped if you don't care about said thing, so go ahead and scroll on past if you like.

Click the "lyrics" tag to just see lyrics. There's a little text sidebar with updates, but it is conveniently annoying to read because I don't know any HTML. Cool.

** Personal BS Alert **

I think it's pretty cool that I've started writing again. The breakup with a girl I was with for about 4 years is what set it off, I think. If getting rid of emotional dead weight is the only way I'll be creative, so be it.

** End Personal BS Alert**

Gunshot Wound

Her face is pale and painful
Her eyes circled and fierce
There's not a part on her body that she would not dare to pierce
Her hair is a gunshot wound
Her mouth always a frown
But I can't keep my hands off her whenever she's around

I like the girls
That pretend they are dead
I like the girls
That want to put a bullet in my head

She hasn't seen the sunlight
In over 13 years
She dwells constantly in misery and the shapes of all her tears
In the daytime she's a silhouette
In the nighttime she's a ghost
But the nights are always times that I seem to enjoy the most

Cuz I like the girls
That bite me when they kiss
I like the girls
That carry a deathwish

Late friday night
We wait in the dark
Locking the door to tear each other apart.

Journey to Sagittarius A

In the middle of the void where it's dark and deep

His eyes are bloodshot from the lack of sleep

His fingers are bitten down past the nail

He screams thru space in his cosmic jail

Home feels like it was long ago
He hears the voice of God on the radio
As he's dragging, dragging, further and further away...

He says:
"I'm laying catatonic and I'm on the floor
Haven't seen the earth for days
I think the devil's inside me and he won't let go
I just wanna leave this place"

**

Laying catatonic and I'm on the floor
Haven't seen the earth for days
The devil's inside me and he won't let go
I just wanna leave this place

Over the radio the order comes:
Head straight for the sun.

**

As he stares straight into that blazing eye

He no longer feels afraid to die

The only way that he's gonna be free

Is to fly to the center of the galaxy
Fly to the center of the galaxy!

He closes his eyes and imagines the seas
With the gentle touch of a summer breeze
As he's dragging, dragging, further and further away...

He says: "I'm laying catatonic and I'm on the floor
Haven't seen the earth for days
I think the devil's inside me and he won't let go
I just wanna leave this place"
Yeah

Laying catatonic and I'm on the floor
Haven't seen the earth for days
The devil's inside me and he won't let go
I just wanna leave this place

Purgatory's Pusher

Listen to the wind as we walk on by
Leave a twenty dollar bill and we'll all get high
In heaven
We'll all get high
In heaven
We'll all get high

We are the shadow masters at the top of the hill
With our fingers of smoke slowly exerting our will
Burning the incense from beyond the world's edge.

When the clouds are gray and hang low in the sky
You will see a flicker in the blink of an eye
Almost invisible
Unbelievable
Inconceivable
But you know you saw--

Listen to the wind as we walk on by
Leave a twenty dollar bill and we'll all get high
In heaven
We'll all get high
In heaven
We'll all get high
**
A simple service we provide, but not for free
Erasing all your lifetime memory
Replacing all the sorrows with euphoric afterglow
At the price of twenty dollars and your soul.

When the Valkyries take me Home

The words don't matter any more, the alcohol is what's in store
I rest my head against the wall and drown my cares in alcohol.

Firewater's fury flushes through my veins--
Summoning the elements laying comatose
In the recesses of my brain

My thoughts are the screams of the valkyries
Can't see through the haze to the pain
They refuse to leave my mind at ease
Until I poison them again

I rest my head against the wall and drown my cares in alcohol
I rest my head against the wall and drown my fears in alcohol.

I raise my glass and tilt one back
It all becomes a lucid dream
Drinking the ambrosia of the sun god
While the world splits apart at the seams

***

So come on, take me home
Tuck me in until the dawn has come
You got a little piece of my life
You got a little piece of my life now, baby

Come on, and take me home
Keep me safe until the morning sun
You got a little piece of my life
You got a little piece of my life now, baby.

Blogs are pretentious

Blogging! The most vain application of the diary format available to humanity thus far! Now you can regurgitate all your meaningless and inane thoughts into an easy to use format and make it visible for the entire world to see, taking for granted that this tripe is somehow important to other people! Or you can report news that may or may not be factual! I'd better get some screenies of all my World of Warcraft characters up here.