Saturday, May 02, 2009
Slight Delay Day
Just an FYI: this week's Self Help Radio, which will be dated May 2, 2009, will not appear today. A previous commitment is making me stay away from a helpful computer for most of the day, not counting now, when a helpful computer is helpfully helping me make a lame excuse. Please look for your regularly scheduled Saturday Self Help Radio some time on Sunday, where it is irregularly scheduled. That is all. Wait. No. I'm sure that's it. I'm sorry if it inconveniences you. That wasn't my intention. If anything, I'm inconvenienced. My whole Saturday schedule is ruined. Because of a previous commitment. Which I am not making up. I swear. All right. We're good? You sure? See you tomorrow then at selfhelpradio.net. I hope. No, I promise. I think. Smile & wave, Gary. Smile & wave.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
If It's April's End, There Must Be A Self Help Radio Extra!
& so there is. Please enjoy a new mix of indie musics for this month's Self Help Radio Extra. I've been reading about portmanteau words & have been wondering if I can start calling them "Shrextras." What do you think? No? All right then.
New songs by Art Brut, Au Revoir Simone, Official Secrets Act & stuff mixed with older tunes by Twig, Girl Of The World, Orange Juice & stuff. Self Help Radio Extra. It's like I made you a mixed tape or something, & that means you've GOT to listen to it.
New songs by Art Brut, Au Revoir Simone, Official Secrets Act & stuff mixed with older tunes by Twig, Girl Of The World, Orange Juice & stuff. Self Help Radio Extra. It's like I made you a mixed tape or something, & that means you've GOT to listen to it.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Whither Nuts?
Are you allergic to peanuts? For reals? You could die! We could all die! Check the label! Check the motherfucking label!
Yes, over the course of the last few decades, our toxic culture has made us more & more allergic to everything we co-evolved with. Or has it? Sometimes we're wrong, because we're scared. No "No Nuts" shirts for me, please. I'm chewing peanut butter flavored gum.
For reals, I ain't allergic to any damn thing. Well, maybe cats. But look, I don't eat cats, I just snuggle them & pet them & let them get their dander all over me until my eyes run red & I sneeze like a surfer with sinus drain. It's worth it.
So I ain't allergic to any damn thing except cats. I sure as hell ain't allergic to any damn pea motherfucking nut. Although I confess I could give or take almonds. Yes, even in marzipan. I don't know why. I just feel... Not connected to the almond. You know? You understand? You feel me?
I don't think I've eaten a nut today. Oh yes I have! I had pine nuts on my spinach salad for lunch! Or were those sunflower seeds... Well, then, I'm going to get some peanut m&ms. Or maybe a butterfinger. But not an almond joy! Don't you try to trick me with an almond joy! That shit's got both almonds (about which I've already shared my ambivalence) & coconut! That's just cruel, that's schoolkid cruel. Some school bully invented almond joy mos def.
Okay, I'm getting dizzy writing in both a white-guy-pretending-to-talk-in-hip-hop-slang & a-snotty-type. You can't hear the voices in your head, but I can, & it's giving my brain whiplash. It's making me nutty!
Full circle. Hot diggety!
Yes, over the course of the last few decades, our toxic culture has made us more & more allergic to everything we co-evolved with. Or has it? Sometimes we're wrong, because we're scared. No "No Nuts" shirts for me, please. I'm chewing peanut butter flavored gum.
For reals, I ain't allergic to any damn thing. Well, maybe cats. But look, I don't eat cats, I just snuggle them & pet them & let them get their dander all over me until my eyes run red & I sneeze like a surfer with sinus drain. It's worth it.
So I ain't allergic to any damn thing except cats. I sure as hell ain't allergic to any damn pea motherfucking nut. Although I confess I could give or take almonds. Yes, even in marzipan. I don't know why. I just feel... Not connected to the almond. You know? You understand? You feel me?
I don't think I've eaten a nut today. Oh yes I have! I had pine nuts on my spinach salad for lunch! Or were those sunflower seeds... Well, then, I'm going to get some peanut m&ms. Or maybe a butterfinger. But not an almond joy! Don't you try to trick me with an almond joy! That shit's got both almonds (about which I've already shared my ambivalence) & coconut! That's just cruel, that's schoolkid cruel. Some school bully invented almond joy mos def.
Okay, I'm getting dizzy writing in both a white-guy-pretending-to-talk-in-hip-hop-slang & a-snotty-type. You can't hear the voices in your head, but I can, & it's giving my brain whiplash. It's making me nutty!
Full circle. Hot diggety!
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Preface To Nuts: Live Bloggins?
It's true, I'm a live bloggins, while I am sitting in on a KVRX show called "Goosfand," playing Middle Eastern music & the like. It has nothing to do with anything, except I may put the show up at selfhelpradio.net at some point & I'm a little nuts anyway.
It's not really live bloggins, though, is it, if I wait until I'm done to post it. That means I'm not nuts, I'm lame. Oh well. At least we're not friends on Facebook & you can hassle me about it.
Or do you want to be friends on Facebook?
I just read this spot from State Farm which thanks "our armed forces" for making sure we can have a Memorial Day, & I was thinking, while I was reading it, isn't it weird that I am thanking armed forces who are over in one of the parts of the world where the music I'm playing comes from, & their presence has probably resulted in the deaths of countless musicians who might otherwise be making music that could be played on shows like this one? Is that what they call irony?
I'm not blaming them! They're not deliberately killing musicians!
Okay, that's it, no more live bloggins for me. I'll continue to pretape my bloggins.
It's not really live bloggins, though, is it, if I wait until I'm done to post it. That means I'm not nuts, I'm lame. Oh well. At least we're not friends on Facebook & you can hassle me about it.
Or do you want to be friends on Facebook?
I just read this spot from State Farm which thanks "our armed forces" for making sure we can have a Memorial Day, & I was thinking, while I was reading it, isn't it weird that I am thanking armed forces who are over in one of the parts of the world where the music I'm playing comes from, & their presence has probably resulted in the deaths of countless musicians who might otherwise be making music that could be played on shows like this one? Is that what they call irony?
I'm not blaming them! They're not deliberately killing musicians!
Okay, that's it, no more live bloggins for me. I'll continue to pretape my bloggins.
Monday, April 27, 2009
O Salty Humans, How You Disappoint Me
I have told you, my friends, of the story of the tiger & the 1965 Chrysler 300L Convertible, have I not? Please remember that story as I tell you, then, of my recent problems with the constabulary. You all know Sheriff Stephanie, do you not? A finer specimen of law & order gung-ho hobbiting I've never seen. But after a fortnight - & two fortdays - I had been perhaps weaving if not ducking on the side roads near the tavern sponsored by corporate largesse. It may have been easier had I brought along my trusty two-wheeled unicycle. From out the bushes, then! Sheriff Stephanie & her merry man! Slapped the cuffs on me as though it were no big deal! I could've outrun them, I swear, if not for my sneaky respect for the rule of law.
My Uncle Danko, the shyster, was on speed dial in no time, but I did enjoy a lukewarm Hot Pocket & the lusty stories of chatty felons for several hours before they woke Judge Happenstance from his twice-yearly self-imposed coma & he meted out my penance & perjury. A sorrier excuse for petroleum jelly I have never seen! His forelocks numbered three & he chose not to respect any nor all outbursts in his vicinity. Were it not for the screaming, burning statue of immodest justice coming down upon his bench like a childish definition of irony I would perhaps still be in that courtroom today, wheeling, dealing, wrangling, dangling, high-fiving the neighbor's kids when we were stoked.
No, this is neither the time nor also the place for mannerly self-congratulation, but the lesson I wish to impart has less to do with what I think than what I think you think. Please, before we disappear into the empty expanse of timed outages, let yourself be free of cackling shackles & hollering hierarchies, yes, even if you must indeed inhale the fingerprint dust from the outstretched palm of a cross-eyed bailiff. Because I am saddened by your lack of enthusiasm for even the most torpid boredom, my friends, my friends, despite the hurricanes & the hurricants, you would be well-lubricated to forego whatsoever is required if only to be stand-offish & mischievous.
I know! Go surfing! Listen to a primer here. What's the worst that could happen, besides drowning & shark-bite? & wouldn't that happen to you anyway? Be honest!
My Uncle Danko, the shyster, was on speed dial in no time, but I did enjoy a lukewarm Hot Pocket & the lusty stories of chatty felons for several hours before they woke Judge Happenstance from his twice-yearly self-imposed coma & he meted out my penance & perjury. A sorrier excuse for petroleum jelly I have never seen! His forelocks numbered three & he chose not to respect any nor all outbursts in his vicinity. Were it not for the screaming, burning statue of immodest justice coming down upon his bench like a childish definition of irony I would perhaps still be in that courtroom today, wheeling, dealing, wrangling, dangling, high-fiving the neighbor's kids when we were stoked.
No, this is neither the time nor also the place for mannerly self-congratulation, but the lesson I wish to impart has less to do with what I think than what I think you think. Please, before we disappear into the empty expanse of timed outages, let yourself be free of cackling shackles & hollering hierarchies, yes, even if you must indeed inhale the fingerprint dust from the outstretched palm of a cross-eyed bailiff. Because I am saddened by your lack of enthusiasm for even the most torpid boredom, my friends, my friends, despite the hurricanes & the hurricants, you would be well-lubricated to forego whatsoever is required if only to be stand-offish & mischievous.
I know! Go surfing! Listen to a primer here. What's the worst that could happen, besides drowning & shark-bite? & wouldn't that happen to you anyway? Be honest!