All are welcome. No dirty Metaphysical Cotton Candy on premises.


I’ve been playing my ‘The Great Unwashed’ freshly pressed vinyl release often since it came in the mail last week. My modest 30 leg raises exercise never felt so easy to work at while this platter painted the cooling air of my living room with the great off-odd-clear-clack-swing tunes of the album.

“The Great Unwashed,’ are The Kilgour brothers from the great NZ band ‘The Clean.’ “Clean out of Minds,” was recorded, and first issued in early 80’s, while the brothers took a break from the band. The Clean is a legendary band (particularly in NZ/AU)—and little pockets elsewhere, that helped elevate small and wonderful NZ label ‘Flying Nun,’ to be the most successful independent label in that small but strong nation.

This video encourages me to demand the sort of entertainment that will pick my spirits up if I should ever have to hide in a cafeteria, jammed in the bowels of a space station, back in time—or in the future. How wonderful it would be to walk along a long hallway, a clear tube taking you through the darkness of space to the cafeteria, where the band played their red Kiwi hearts out, pale visages a-sweat under glowing blues, and popping green lights.

For lovers of high & strange energy that puzzles as it rocks with infectiously askew push, detonating slow gallops of song movement; I suggest picking up a copy of ‘Clean out of our Minds.’ I suppose I could lament how this album is woefully under-appreciated, but hey, that’s the way it went, and the future? Ah? I don’t know. Maybe their is another universe where this album gained a bigger listener-ship, where kids or other people, who think they seek out something new and different, but just end up playing the same 6 albums over and over again (one time sort of underground maybe…) realize their fooling themselves, and really dig into the blue out-there.

I do hope that those that seek out some of the songs get to appreciate the album as a unit, or fly out to the South Island of New Zealand, and feel the world in your teeth and tongue from that position of the Earth. I would like to! I plan on writing a piece about this off-shoot band in the coming Months for ‘Perfect Sound Forever,’ so stay tuned for that.

Today, the unwillingness of the Arab States and Turkey that border Mesopotamia to commit ground forces to fight the Islamic State makes matters worse. It means that Americans will spend billions of dollars to kill thugs in pickup trucks and bounce rubble for months, even years with doubtful effect.
Col. DOUGLAS MACGREGOR

 

Col. DOUGLAS MACGREGOR

Am I resigned to this happening? Sadly, yes. Colonel Macgregor say’s it true.  Lib-hawk smooth talkers and the usual bellicose bands from along the political spectrum can’t say no to this cruel waste of resources—to this sort of violence and all its shitty impunity, collateral damage, false or not so false— sense of geo-political-economic control it fosters. So much moral self-bamboozling that goes along with creating monsters, nurturing their scions, despite intentions, or?

'That Doubtful effect' part—-makes the war chest spigot sing gaily, but will require nice speaking hawk-liberals to rise up their staid, and concentrated rhetoric game, so as not to be outdone by their more itchy-tighter-fist-hugging rivals, while securing the game continues at this sweet ching-ching rate of attrition bounty. I do agree with the Colonel that:

"Americans will have to demand a national military strategy that focuses on protecting Americans, American territory, and core American commercial interests rather than attempts to breathe new life into the comatose body of failed American military interventions that litter the Eastern Hemisphere."


Detail of a Matthew Pillsbury Photograph I snapped at Benurubi Gallery
 Pillsbury’s show (Titled— Tokyo) is currently being exhibited at The Benrubi Gallery in Manhattan (get there before closing on Oct 25th!) All the photos are long-exposure shots that only use existing light (I wonder how God made his photographs——not to confuse the almighty creator with a French born photographer, just speculating for the fuzz & tickle of it.)
Spending a lot of time festooning myself in these shots on the 13th floor of a building after coming in from a long sunny day walking in city with tourists clicking away on their cameras, catapulted me into wide reveries that flaked my heart into many little streams of white flowers and gold. Photos such as Hanami #5 put me in the mind of Sans Soleil (the cinematic work of defluffed Proustian prowess that often has us looking deeply into Japan, by film maker Chris Marker.) One could see these PIllsbury photos as fast-forwarded-in-time images easily inserted in Marker’s 1983 film, lending themselves to his powerfully poetic commentary on among other things: the strange co-existence and interaction of super-over-saturated pop culture co-existing cheek-by-jowl with the reverence of ancient places of worship, or the powerful allure of technology. Many of the photos on view have shorter exposures, but are still focused on people, and the passing of time. There is certainly more attention paid to the obsession of gadgets, and the sad flimsy obsession with capturing moments converted into the unfortifying porridge of dawdled-cipher-snapping into the pale geisha white of impalpability. 

What? You mean….Alienation…atomization….dah-dah-doo…hashtag—-understood?
 
But seriously; please see the show with someone you like to be with. 
This post was brought to you buy people holding hands in the elevator in a quiet way.

Detail of a Matthew Pillsbury Photograph I snapped at Benurubi Gallery


Pillsbury’s show (Titled— Tokyo) is currently being exhibited at The Benrubi Gallery in Manhattan (get there before closing on Oct 25th!) All the photos are long-exposure shots that only use existing light (I wonder how God made his photographs——not to confuse the almighty creator with a French born photographer, just speculating for the fuzz & tickle of it.)

Spending a lot of time festooning myself in these shots on the 13th floor of a building after coming in from a long sunny day walking in city with tourists clicking away on their cameras, catapulted me into wide reveries that flaked my heart into many little streams of white flowers and gold. Photos such as Hanami #5 put me in the mind of Sans Soleil (the cinematic work of defluffed Proustian prowess that often has us looking deeply into Japan, by film maker Chris Marker.) One could see these PIllsbury photos as fast-forwarded-in-time images easily inserted in Marker’s 1983 film, lending themselves to his powerfully poetic commentary on among other things: the strange co-existence and interaction of super-over-saturated pop culture co-existing cheek-by-jowl with the reverence of ancient places of worship, or the powerful allure of technology. Many of the photos on view have shorter exposures, but are still focused on people, and the passing of time. There is certainly more attention paid to the obsession of gadgets, and the sad flimsy obsession with capturing moments converted into the unfortifying porridge of dawdled-cipher-snapping into the pale geisha white of impalpability.

What? You mean….Alienation…atomization….dah-dah-doo…hashtag—-understood?

 

But seriously; please see the show with someone you like to be with.

This post was brought to you buy people holding hands in the elevator in a quiet way.

General Nuzzles Annie to its Chest

Like your Annie Brand, mom in a gingham garden—-bunny noodles do you? Annie has been bought by the General, yes, the one that watches over you privates awkwardly, crookedly—walking down the cereal aisle. Not sure if I’m giving the green light to buy up some Annie Inc. stock. The great Maltempi thinketh—-pass.

"Annie’s Inc. jumped 37 percent in German trading after General Mills Inc. said it will buy the California company for $820 million."

I did not buy the dish washing device at Ikea. I did make small talk with a security guard, who after a stormy start, became a comrade in my little world, and I in his.

I did not buy the dish washing device at Ikea. I did make small talk with a security guard, who after a stormy start, became a comrade in my little world, and I in his.

א מענטש געפינט אַ פעט בייַטל, אַ דיקלעך פּאָרטפעל, און זייַן מאָדנע אינהאַלט. ווו איז עס געפונען? טוט אַז דערציילן אונדז עפּעס? ווען מענטש רעטורנס היים ער הייבט קוקן דורך די אינהאַלט פון בייַטל. מענטש נעמען בייַטל. מענטש ווערט סאַספּישאַס פון וואָלי. וואָלי איז אויס צו שפּילקע אים אויף עפּעס ווראָנגהעאַדעד, כאַרטאַד. מענטש איז אַ פערלי נאָרמאַל באָכער. אַז איז, ער ס דערלאנגט ווי אַ פערלי פּראָסט מענטשן. ער ערטער די פילע ביללס געפונען אין בייַטל אין מערידן, עס ס ווינטיק, אַ פֿענצטער איז אָפֿן. ער ערטער זיכער ראַקס אויף די מערידן צו האַלטן זיי ‘זיכער.’ יאַפּאַניש פּאָרנאַגראַפי ווירוס האט ינפעקטאַד זיין קאָמפּיוטער, טורנינג עס אויף, און טעמפּטינג אים.

ʼ mʻntş gʻpynt ʼa pʻt byyatl, ʼa dyqlʻk ṗʼártpʻl, ʼwn zyyan mʼádnʻ ʼynhʼalt. Www ʼyz ʻs gʻpwnʻn? Twt ʼaz dʻrẕyyln ʼwndz ʻṗʻs? Wwʻn mʻntş rʻtwrns hyym ʻr hyybt qwqn dwrk dy ʼynhʼalt pwn byyatl. Mʻntş nʻmʻn byyatl. Mʻntş wwʻrt sʼasṗyşʼas pwn wwʼály. Wwʼály ʼyz ʼwys ẕw şṗylqʻ ʼym ʼwyp ʻṗʻs wwrʼánghʻʼadʻd, kʼartʼad. Mʻntş ʼyz ʼa pʻrly nʼármʼal bʼákʻr. ʼaz ʼyz, ʻr s dʻrlʼngt wwy ʼa pʻrly ṗrʼást mʻntşn. ʻr ʻrtʻr dy pylʻ bylls gʻpwnʻn ʼyn byyatl ʼyn mʻrydn, ʻs s wwyntyq, ʼa p̄ʻnẕtʻr ʼyz ʼáp̄n. ʻr ʻrtʻr zykʻr rʼaqs ʼwyp dy mʻrydn ẕw hʼaltn zyy’zykʻr.’ Yʼaṗʼanyş ṗʼárnʼagrʼapy wwyrws hʼt ynpʻqtʼad zyyn qʼámṗywtʻr, twrnyng ʻs ʼwyp, ʼwn tʻmṗtyng ʼym

Because if you want to you can translate yourself into Yiddish. Sort of. It’s not you doing it of course. You paste, you click buttons, you wonder.

א מענטש געפינט אַ פעט בייַטל, אַ דיקלעך פּאָרטפעל, און זייַן מאָדנע אינהאַלט. ווו איז עס געפונען? טוט אַז דערציילן אונדז עפּעס? ווען מענטש רעטורנס היים ער הייבט קוקן דורך די אינהאַלט פון בייַטל. מענטש נעמען בייַטל. מענטש ווערט סאַספּישאַס פון וואָלי. וואָלי איז אויס צו שפּילקע אים אויף עפּעס ווראָנגהעאַדעד, כאַרטאַד. מענטש איז אַ פערלי נאָרמאַל באָכער. אַז איז, ער ס דערלאנגט ווי אַ פערלי פּראָסט מענטשן. ער ערטער די פילע ביללס געפונען אין בייַטל אין מערידן, עס ס ווינטיק, אַ פֿענצטער איז אָפֿן. ער ערטער זיכער ראַקס אויף די מערידן צו האַלטן זיי 'זיכער.' יאַפּאַניש פּאָרנאַגראַפי ווירוס האט ינפעקטאַד זיין קאָמפּיוטער, טורנינג עס אויף, און טעמפּטינג אים.
ʼ mʻntş gʻpynt ʼa pʻt byyatl, ʼa dyqlʻk ṗʼártpʻl, ʼwn zyyan mʼádnʻ ʼynhʼalt. Www ʼyz ʻs gʻpwnʻn? Twt ʼaz dʻrẕyyln ʼwndz ʻṗʻs? Wwʻn mʻntş rʻtwrns hyym ʻr hyybt qwqn dwrk dy ʼynhʼalt pwn byyatl. Mʻntş nʻmʻn byyatl. Mʻntş wwʻrt sʼasṗyşʼas pwn wwʼály. Wwʼály ʼyz ʼwys ẕw şṗylqʻ ʼym ʼwyp ʻṗʻs wwrʼánghʻʼadʻd, kʼartʼad. Mʻntş ʼyz ʼa pʻrly nʼármʼal bʼákʻr. ʼaz ʼyz, ʻr s dʻrlʼngt wwy ʼa pʻrly ṗrʼást mʻntşn. ʻr ʻrtʻr dy pylʻ bylls gʻpwnʻn ʼyn byyatl ʼyn mʻrydn, ʻs s wwyntyq, ʼa p̄ʻnẕtʻr ʼyz ʼáp̄n. ʻr ʻrtʻr zykʻr rʼaqs ʼwyp dy mʻrydn ẕw hʼaltn zyy'zykʻr.' Yʼaṗʼanyş ṗʼárnʼagrʼapy wwyrws hʼt ynpʻqtʼad zyyn qʼámṗywtʻr, twrnyng ʻs ʼwyp, ʼwn tʻmṗtyng ʼym

Just the hits: The golden age of fake arm fraud?

Below—-one will read ‘just the hits’—as I call them, from an illuminating article about Medicare fraud in today’s Washington Post (8-17-14)

Here is the whole article for those who need much more context, and who are interested in general. One can take away many things from reading this article. The main thing I took away was: Gutting governmental services, and then pointing out how ineffective it is, and prescribing the golden cure ‘for profit’ alternatives—-is one of the biggest ‘legit’ scams going. Tom Frank wrote a good book on the topic. See his ‘Wrecking Crew’—tract.

here’s the article:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/sf/national/2014/08/16/a-medicare-scam-that-just-kept-rolling/?hpid=z1

Now—-here are ‘just the hits.’

dom

____________________________________________________

The original equipment scam had sprung up in the 1970s, at a time when Medicare was young and criminals were still learning how to steal its money.

Now, the golden age of the wheelchair scam is probably over.

The real big-ticket items (like limbs) attracted too much attention if you billed them by the hundreds.

Fernandez’s wheelchair is occupied by an enormous stuffed animal wearing a Los Angeles Lakers hat.

If it works, the dead doctor’s mail is delivered to the live crook.

a fraudster starts with a prescription he wants to fill.
Banjo also told the jury that he objected to something a prosecutor had said
In Puerto Rico, the next big thing seems to be arms and legs.