Black Helicopters

January 5, 2012, 6:34 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

two narratives: groundwork, or erosion.

at times, the starkness of the choice obviates the need for any fancy interpretive work, or that is at least what i’m telling myself: either you build, or you grind yourself down, teeth to toenails, scorching anyone and anything through whom or which might have come some beauty, wisdom, peace. the yawning gaps between posts (themselves rather fucking thematically disjointed to begin with) on this site suggest its author’s been opting to play (a word-choice equal parts ironic [ugh] and cruel) out the latter narrative. and this, a contemptible choice leading to little more than murk, atrophy, dissolution. all in the name of some skewed notion of necessity: a compulsive attachment to things that un-make life because how can i do otherwise?, an attachment–this is the innocuous word for it–to things that obliterate those conditions that would make even the most tenuous and fitful projects even remotely possible in the first place. a wallace line from one of the scariest episodes of infinite jest, about a character “living in quick vectors” of the self-sabotaging activity of an addict…in the ten years it’s been in my head, that line still cuts, well, to the quick.   and the story’s had legs; in june of 2002, i wrote (in prose no less hackneyed than this here, but phooey to all that) that “the vices of my world are self-saboteurs”, and while that’s a syntactic and stylistic clusterfuck, i often find it remains no less true. but after a while–after, say, the better part of ten years, it’s a tired and boring story to tell. and in terms of submitting it to the work of interpretation, it’s beneath contempt. or, to be a tiny bit more generous, not worth the modest effort such interpretation would seem  to demand in the first place.

if this thing moves forward (i’ve been taught a lot recently about–well, about a lot, more than i’ve yet realized–but about the purposelessness of declaratives, their deceptive and illusory ‘comfort’, so will duly avoid them), the theme ought to be groundwork. accretion. discovery. slow and steady, as we’ve all heard–but the point not being the race, let alone winning, but the process, the experience, the things learned along the way. my oh my, how platitudinous. again, phooey. so be it–time to rediscover simplicity and slowness as the gifts they are, the rewards they bring, gained through the sort of work that (now frustratingly, now frighteningly, now blissfully) never ends. and, to avoid a wheel-spinning internal emotional narrative–a welcome and entirely justified aesthetic criticism one might level, however kindly, against this here thing–posts deserve stories. so there will be stories. shit–a declarative!

so. back to work.

but for now, and in the spirit of becoming unstuck, something to (at least occasionally) get one moving. rapid-fire assembled and tracked. purposive ‘cept when it’s not.

track listing

ted leo/pharmacists – 2nd ave, 11am

big star – mod lang (studio rehearsal, hempstead, ny, march 1974alex’s “i broke a pick…’ at the end of the track is what makes this one magic.)

electrelane – bells

the beatles – dig a pony

king crimson – red (couldn’t help but channel this guy here, though i’ve heard he tends to favor early KC)

beat happening – down at the sea

CAN – nineteen century man

the casual dots – momma’s gonna make us a cake

grass widow – tuesday

brian eno – i’ll come running

creedence clearwater revival – ramble tamble

josephine foster and the supposed – (you are worth) a million dollars

wipers – let’s go away


2 Comments so far
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I am so glad you’re doing this, Nate. And thanks for the mix. I’m downloading it right now.

Comment by Colin

Don’t be so glad yet, darling boy. It’s easy to say you’re gonna do stuff. The point, as our mentor Scharpling always puts it, is to do the stuff, not talk about doing it! But things are promising.

Can’t get over the FOXNY segment. You look real nice on it, too. Enjoy the mix–no surprises on it, just stuff that gets me going. And Grass Widow! Who I have yet to see because I am the worst San Francisco resident ever. I love you.

Comment by blackhelicopters

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