going for his knife

I lived in the Chelsea Hotel one day in the late 1980's, around 1988.

I was in a punk-noise-electronic band, CAMOUFLAGE DANSE, and my girlfriend Vava Vol and I stayed there one day and night.

I wanted to record a "Live at Hotel Chelsea" performance of my band there. But stupidly, I didn't force the guys to do it, but I regret it now.

Sometime in near future, if there is such a thing as near and future combined, I wish to do a solo electronic music show there, in a room at the Chelsea Hotel.

:*)

Friday, October 07, 2005 1:17:41 PM
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Zafufilia said...

Buddha and Plato... Isn't that like tequila and kahlua?

Sunday, October 09, 2005 4:27:28 PM
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Zafufilia said...

I work in that area. However, I have not been by there in twenty years. And I've never been in it. I'd meet you there to make a record though...

One of my favorite movies of the '80s is Sid and Nancy, which depicts her demise at the hotel. I am fascinated by the way Chloe Webb says "Siiiiiiiiiid.... But SSSsiiiiiiiiid."

Sunday, October 09, 2005 4:31:25 PM
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Steven Streight said...

My band CAMOUFLAGE DANSE, music of which is now available in an album "Our Sound", which I will try to feature as an audio blog here at Vaspers the Grate, was more everything than Sid's.

After I saw SID AND NANCY film in a midtown NYC movie theatre, I accidentally bumped into a guy walking down the street holding a martini, which I had inadvertently sloshed by stumbling into him.

I mumbled some apologetic text, then he, not hearing it or thinking it sufficient, started to get smart with me, complaining about the sloshing of his beverage, and reaching for his back pocket.

That meant he was going for his knife.

Sunday, October 09, 2005 4:53:44 PM
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Marmot tonight

I saw a huge marmot tonight as I was mowing the lawn.



I had just finished with the front, and was walking around the backyard, removing sticks, when suddenly: there it was.




Lumbering down the far side of my backyard, headed for the stream down in the woods. It stopped when it noticed me looking at it. I yelled something friendly at it, and it lumbered off a little faster, disappearing in the creek.



After the shock of unexpected discovery and encounter wore off, I began to assess my danger. It looked to be about 2 1/2 to 3 feet long and nearly a foot wide. And I had no weapon nearby, should it decide to act mean or scared, and turn to attack me. I was sure I could not kick it to death. My situation was bleak. I returned to the front yard to get the reel mower.



Who knows where it is, what it's doing, what it's thinking now?



I might look around the property with a quartz halogen spotlight and see if I run into it again. I'm sure he's as curious about me as I am about him. Maybe the rodent, commonly known as a hedgehog or groundhog, hog I guess because of its size, a cross between a brown wood squirrel and a giant river rat.

The marmot. Tonight. ?

25 breakfasts

I can't even say it.

Try it.



Say "twenty five breakfasts".

Are you catching yourself saying "breakfastes"?



How can you vocally indicate the word "breakfast" is plural?



This is the problem that Acep was haunted by, and he could not stop worrying about it.

Also:

"Can one person rationally, or realistically, eat 25 breakfasts before lunchtime?"

"What time would that person have to wake up to accomplish this feat? What types of breakfasts foods would be involved, in what order?"

:*)

Things That Appear in the Bathtub

When things that appear in the bathtub, for no reason, just suddenly happen to be there, you know not how they arrived, nor from where they came, when they look like this...



...you're in a lot of trouble.

Space Athlete

Space Athlete: performs stunts in and around space stations, shuttles, solar wind gliders, satellite networks, orbital telescope arrays, surface exploration and sampling craft, and manned landing vehicles.



Can actually make needed repairs while performing entertaining tricks and dangerous acrobatic maneuvers. One little slip, and off you go into eternal outer space, with no hope of being rescued.





So read my personal ad, trying to find work.



An unemployed space athlete is not a pretty sight. We languish, wishing we could land a "floater", our term for "job", because we do a lot of floating as we make repairs and entertain spectators.



What nobody knows is that, between jobs, we also practice Eastern-style levitation exercises, just to stay loosened up for the next gig.

The problem is, now I've levitated too high, and, to make matter worse, no matter how hard I try, I cannot come down.




I was in my backyard, and it was really dark, so I dared to do some outdoor levitating. I rose rapidly, I'm sure no one saw me. But then I got stuck, and I'm using my wireless laptop, which I luckily had with me, to publish this post.



I figure if someone, an initiated riser, knows how to solve this problem, they can post a comment, or email me. I'm just hanging around, suspended against my will. Please, if you know the technique I need to implement, to override this default lofting, share that information with me.



About an hour ago, I was spotted by the police as I hovered sleepily near the top of the pine tree in my backyard. Gunshots abruptly snapped me back into a wide-awake state and a surly mood. They were firing at me.

Apparently, a human who can defy gravity is an anarchist who defies any other law he damn well pleases, according to these officers. Again with the gunshots. But I couldn't will myself down, I don't know why.

I seemed to be doomed to an eternal hover mode. Some mental mechanism has jammed. Morning will come eventually, soon in fact, and then everyone will be able to see me up here. This is not good. I'll probably lose my space athlete license: "reckless exposure of secret maneuvers" the report will state.

When I got far enough away from the cops, by swooshing horizontally to a spot behind a fussy clump of tall trees in the woods in back of my neighbor's bungalow, I upchucked my lunch all over a tree trunk, I was that upset.



Getting shot at is a very unpleasant experience, especially if you're on a guilt trip about your levitation skills being discovered by local policemen. I was hoping they didn't assume correctly that I lived in the house I was hovering above.



Of course, I'll deny it was me that was floating, if I ever come down and they interrogate me. I hate to lie, in fact, I almost never tell untruth, but in this case, what choice do I really have?

It sucks being trapped in a levitative dysfunction. There are no coffee shops, record stores, or bars up here. They're all down there, far below me.



This bites.





:^(

Lions and Tornadoes

Never.




I dreamt of both lions. and tornadoes the"irgw===night.


Lemons and torpedoes.

I dreamt: lions and tornadoes. All around {me}.



Then the, edging into reality, incognito, shadows: face to face with lions, then tornadoes. The lions won't leave me alone. I don't know why. They follow me, they're everywhere. Then the whole dream changes, or becomes another, and I'm in the path of a tornado, then a cluster of them. I gaze in awe at them, and the horror never hits me. Just awe at the power and the form.



Once upon a time, there was a hidden message in this story. The message consisted of instructions on how to build an elevator to the moon, twisting and wreathing its way from earth to the lunar surface, attached like a living appendage, causing a tide of its own, a pull, a grave situation of essentially unearthing earthies, turning any healthy human into an elevator-naut, an astro-vator aviator. This conveyance quickly becomes the recreational adventure of choice for all who can afford it. NASA and some construction and cable firms partner to bring you the ride of a lifetime, a cruise beyond anything ever imagined: honeymoon on the moon, then safely returned to earth.



The tornadoes are sudden onsets. Last night I dreamt I and my family were in the eye of a twister.




[They always seem the same as alien death rays.]



It, the steady vision socket of the storm, of the tornado, it was looking at us one last time, calmly, prior to killing us for sport.

Lions and tornadoes.



Tenderloins and tomatoes.



I eat them all.

I don't fear them.






They fall down for me.


.....