Hurtin me, man. I gotta call Page, Jones, and Plant and try to get the band back together. At our age (or their age), we’ll have to call band Bed Zeppellin because they’ll need their medical beds in the studio and while on tour.
Watch unnamed | Streamable (Lemon Song groove)
I’m figuring out Rush’s Jacob’s Ladder , and this is the middle section of the song. There’s a fucked up 13/8 in there and it’s got me twisted. Neil’s always trying to be clever.
I don’t have a second crash cymbal (yet) so i gotta hit the open highhats for that part as if it were a cymbal. My ride cymbal won’t crash. Sux, but there’s no setting for it.
“Jacob’s Ladder” uses several time and key signatures and possesses a dark, ominous feel in its first half. The lyrics are based on a simple concept; a vision of sunlight breaking through storm clouds. The song’s title is a reference to the natural phenomenon of the sun breaking through the clouds in visible rays, which in turn was named after the Biblical ladder to heaven on which Jacob saw angels ascending and descending in a vision."
It’s all coming back to me slowly but shirley. Got double bass drums now at the expense of being able to close the highhats. Here’s 42 seconds of Tommy The Cat (Primus) I’m toiling over. Got the groove basically down. Passable, anyway.
Well, she came sliding on down the alleyway like butter drippin’ off a hot biscuit
The aroma, the mean scent, was enough to arouse suspicion in
Even the oldest of Tigers that hung around the hot spot in those days
The sight was beyond belief
Many a head snapped for double, even triple takes as this vivacious
Feline made her way into the delta of the alleyway
Where the most virile of the young tabbies were known to hang out
They hung out in droves
Such a multitude of masculinity could only be found in one place, and that was O’Malley’s Alley
The air was thick with catcalls, no pun intended
But not even a muscle in her neck did twitch as she sauntered straight to behind the alleyway…
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American guy thinks UK slang is lit 
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I do say most of those… apart from the last one. 
It is the first of February.
Very few people are aware that had it not been for January, February would not have known that he was next up. It very nearly happened that there was no February.
Yesterday, January contacted February, ‘‘It’s my last day today. You take over tomorrow.’’
February was ill-prepared, he’d lost all track of time. He panicked. ‘‘Do you mean midnight? For how long? How many days do I have?’’
‘‘Calm down,’’ said January. ‘‘That is entirely up to March.’’
‘‘March?’’ February, puzzled.
‘‘You’ve met March on more than one occasion.’’
‘‘Have I really?’’ said February. ‘‘Then I’m sure I’ll recognise him when I see him.’’
‘‘Her,’’ said January, "March is feminine.‘’
‘‘Oh! It’s all coming back to me now. . . Why does the fourteenth ring a bell?’’
I am confident that this is the correct thread. 
I have some exclusive audio of the creature for those who are curious about its language and speech mannerisms.
Synopsis: a month ago, the creature bought a six-pack of the little Welsh’s grape juices. Over a week period, i drank three of them. Before that six-pack was depleted, i bought another one to replace the three i took. Obviously: replace what you take from someone before they need it or you are inconveniencing them.
(Please don’t mistake that as meaning i share and honor that rule with this lowly creature. I do not. I do it merely out of habit and because i could buy a whole fuckin truck load of grape juice if i wanted so i don’t need to steal hers)
Of this second six-pack, the creature drank nothing, and i ended up drinking them all. I then bought a third one yesterday, out of which i took one today. If and when that one runs out, I’ll buy another and so on.
The creature believes that i a) took more than three a month ago and b) I drank her grape juices because I’m a user.
Brace yourself before listening. You’ll never hear anything this horrible and wretched as long as you live. If death and desolation had a voice, it would be this. And i hear it every day non-stop. Guess who gets to pay for that? Hint: it is the thing that Saint Max hated the most.
Note to audience. Though entertaining, these clips are posted here for records primarily. Like a kind of insurance, you could say. If and when i do indeed become unhinged, i want to be sure all the reasons are laid there golden and shining on the table before the jury. Or, in the event that i fail to appear in court for being dead or in active ghost-mode, the material may be compiled by law enforcement and turned into a kind of informal manifesto that they can all chew on when at home and laying awake at night suffering that profound crisis of conscience when you know the Prom is right and yet it’s your job to capture and destroy him. Hours they will lay there staring at the ceiling: “fuck man i wasn’t ready for this” he whispers to his wife. “Honey, he’s a pedophile creep. You’re doing the right thing”, she consoles him. “No… that’s just it though… he isn’t… do you even know what happened? You won’t believe it. I don’t know if i can do this anymore. Be a cop, i mean. I can’t be a part of what’s happening to this guy. He’s like a goddamn hero, Sarah! Don’t you understand?”
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Why do some insist on talking to others, that have no wish to interact with them?
No shame, is why…
Hot off the press. I walked in and just missed the opportunity to record the creature shouting at this shihtzu like a rabid mad woman for biting her fingers when she hands it food. The dog instinctually snaps at the food because he wants to be sure he gets it in his mouth. He senses it will fall if he doesn’t. It’s an awkward situation for an animal used to eating food off the ground.
They do this every day. She hands him something, he barely nips her fingers, she screams out, curses the dog, and then lectures it as if it were a human being having the slightest clue about anything she’s saying. Each time it happens, i have one of those scenes in the movie where the guy slowly going insane is in company of someone that disgusts him and suddenly the image of him smashing the person in the head with a bat flashes through his mind… then he snaps out of it and tunes back in. One of those deals.
Once or twice, no problem. But this buffoon goes through this every day, sometimes several times. It doesn’t occur to the creature to simply place the little piece of food on the floor. She has to frustrate, confuse, and terrorize the poor animal. She’s got this dog so fucked up in the head it too is now shitting and pissing everywhere.
When i capture it on tape, you’re gonna see, and you won’t say a word. This woman is sickening beyond anything you have ever known. Mental ward material.
The rage that cometh from my mouth is in fact the best i can do to restrain myself. Its that or i a) storm out of this shithole and go somewhere or b) bash her head in.
I refuse to leave everytime the thing comes near me when I’m here and i won’t bash its head in so i have to over-power it. Summoning the anger of a thousand gods i attempt to smash it to bits with sonic soundwaves or at least ward it off.
The purpose of this is to discourage it from trying to interact with me in any way… and has been working quite well recently. Conversation between us about anything has been reduced by at least 75 percent since i was stricken here after leaving prison. Today, when she comes near me and attempts to start complaining about how I’m not powerwashing her house every three days or how a spot of oil got on one of her 73 dishrags she keeps under the sink, i tell her to fuck off before she even gets three words out.
You can’t know how infuriating the sound of a little thing constantly complaining about little things is unless you yourself are suffering infinitely more. If not, you won’t feel bothered listening to someone drone on about getting a rotten potato in a bag of potatoes or how Chewy raised their delivery fee seventeen cents. Maybe that’s the kind of suffering you’re into and by all means, talk it out with others like you. But please spare me. That’s all i ask.
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Black op vans, sirens blazing, ringing out for over half an hour… something bad’s going down.
I’ll check the news tomorrow, for what it was.
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Sirens still going off… what kind of crime is being committed and chased down that lasts 2 hours…
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Almost 3 hours later, and sirens still going off… great 
New release just out. The Weather Report Montdrummery Sessions.
Hoffman got the gig with Primus! Shit is about to get real for Les…
https://youtube.com/clip/Ugkxbudqtuf0Y5SLEGT3zOo89DWAja-FAXHv
Now check out Brooke’s audition video for Primus. She played Eleven… an excellent choice! Nobody plays that one.
I think it would have been much cooler if Brooke got the gig… nothing against John, of course. A female drummer with Primus just has a bizarre allure to it. Who the fuck knows what her and Les would have come up with…
Oh, it was this…
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A small gang long-time criminals, causing all that chaos.
It’s +7c today.
To me that is very nice.
A break from -20c style stuff.
I learned a valuable lesson through youtube analytics. Shorts I post of me playing in which I’m not locked in yet for at least ten seconds only get an average of twenty percent viewed before being swiped; the viewer says this guy sucks let’s move on.
But see, I thought it would be cool to see a drummer figure something out in real-time… like watch him fumble for a second and then get zoned in. Well, I started editing out the messy parts and the shorts are getting full views.
Tough crowd these guys. They might think I’m that guy who sucks but thinks he good (hubris) unless they read my channel protocols in which i make my mission statement and declare forthrightly my position of rank in the pantheon of percussionists.
What about these ‘philosophical busy-bodies’ do we admire the most? Watching them run 'round in circles or is it that adorable and endearing little feature of personality that makes them feel and believe they are teachers and you a student? When we know this person hasn’t even begun to do hard philosophy, we still can’t help but adore this feature in them. Sometimes, it’s so adorable you wouldn’t want to disturb them, or worse, stop them and prevent someone else from seeing and enjoying it themselves.
Scoundrels, buffoons, sophists, and intellectual posers are not a problem until they have a very large audience… in which case you could have some serious meme propagation and generate a rhizome of imbecility that spreads across the forums like a virus. Only then would it be the obligation of the philosopher philanthropist, for the sake of epistemic truth, to take up task, sweep down from his high mountain and eradicate the pestilence.
I was gonna write a little piece about why i am so great as a nod to Nietzsche and his Ecce Homo but i didn’t wanna steal his limelight, see. Plus, Ecmandu’s on a roll too and I don’t wanna disturb his computer time.
Sometimes, there are people who’s problems are yours in a much bigger way than you know. Not as something directly experienced or even as something indirectly affecting you. You may be miles away and never know this person exists, and still, his problems are yours because they transcend time and space. Because they are deeply, objectively philosophical. The great sufferers, these people. It is the fact of their suffering that is your problem. For instance, i may live in a mansion until I’m 100 in great health, but if there is one person being tortured in afganistan, or one person being brutally beaten and raped, or one person dying of cancer (but starving to death anyway), or one person being mauled in a horrible accident and living the rest of their life as an amputee in a wheelchair, i would never be able to honestly believe there was a good ‘god’ or that man was a decent animal, etc. This is what i mean.
The fact that i am what i am with the very complex and unique problems that i have almost without exception challenges and destroys what most people believe philosophically. Things pertaining to ‘god’, the state, liberty, justice, morality, sexual decency (and perversion), and most recently… the importance of family and this automatic nonsense that one must respect their mother just because they’re their mother.
Regarding just about every deeply philosophical utterance that might be muttered in my presence by someone who thinks they’ve got it all figured out, my very existence makes false. And with the exception of the most loathsome of nihilists who cared about nothing, Lebowski, I’ve yet to meet a philosopher who could challenge the iron clad truth of my personal experience and live to tell about it.
Sometimes, there are people who are like whole empires, whole libraries of philosophy. A single life that turns a thousand years of the absentmindedly optimistic philosophy filling the heads of eventless people in their mundane little lives to shambles.
Imagine a guy that was born into poverty, joined the army to escape abuse at home, almost died in Nam, lost a leg in a factory accident (and therefore his job and house), and then accidently runs someone over and is imprisoned for involuntary manslaughter. While in prison, he finds out his wife and daughter were murdered in a home invasion.
What do you think this guy thinks when he hears someone like one of us go off on one of our life is great and let’s all love each other tangents? How is he supposed to take that, and us, seriously?
Whether i know it or not, all those bad experiences that guy went through are my problems too because they mean I’m wrong in a lot of philosophical ways i don’t want to be wrong in.