Text – Page 139 – Citizen Reporter

Can’t Afford the Pod

OK… I hope you’re sittin down and buckled in. Not only is there an audioblog, being that today is sunday, but I have upped the “anti” by making my

first REAL podcast (mp3)

using my new MP3 recorder and Audacity (audio software). It’s 6 minutes long, recorded in 56kbps 22,050 mhz (as recommended by someone at Whole Wheat Radio)I had lots of fun doing it, and even mixed in music tracks. (Taxi Europe by Stephan Eicher and then Rio by Vinicious Cantuaria and David Bryne)

While I wish I could do this every sunday, due to my modest site host plan, I would run out of space sometime in June, and I can’t afford that. But I was psyched to do this and there’s so much info on ipodder.org, it was great. I should also mention that I was bigtime inspired by this podcast from Tokyo Calling, thanks for the help Scott! So here’s the first one, and most likely, one of the few I’ll ever do this way.

(just a bit more nerd talk — for those of you who use Blogger.com’s audio blog phonenumber, that’s a great option cause the files are hosted on their server, not YOURS. Only shit is… you gotta be on the phone.. and Im friggin Holland!)

The Baron of Bass

Today is Mingus Day.. recognized by only a few of the world’s cities and of course – this here communiqu?. Therefore I’m happy to welcome from the great beyond, in the second installment of “I See Dead Historical Figures”, musician, composer, activist, Pithecanthropus Erectus, Mr. Charles Mingus!

BM: Welcome to what I assume is your first ever blog appearance mr. charles, I’m really honored to have you here.

Mingus: Well thank you son… while I know nothing of your abilities as a musician.. it looked like a fun thing to do. Plus.. I’m dead, so this is excitement at its finest. Oh what the hell is a blog?

BM: Let me explain. No.. it’s too much… lemme sum up: this is a blog and I am blogging. That being said, let’s start from your death in 1979, why spread your ashes over the Ganges River in India?

Mingus: Why not. It’s beautiful. Can you imagine my ass being sprinkled over the East River? Nowadays they’d probably call it a terrorist attack and throw my wife in Guantanamo.

BM: So I take it you’ve been following current events over the past decades? Whats your take on this tsunami disaster?

Mingus: Right away I have a problem with your question… you didn’t ask me what I think about the suffering on the streets of the US, the death and destruction in the Congo, or the crippling poverty all over the world. People are dying at this very moment as victims of violence… yet somehow this isn’t considered a distaster.

BM: I suppose in the case of this Tsunami, its all the attention it gets in the media and the scale…

Mingus: Whatever it is… it should be unacceptable. I was an outspoken critic of racial segregation in my time, and it angers me the way the world acts like everything is fine now, as if the struggle is over. You wanna bet if that thing had happened in the first world, you would have been more prepared and suffer hardly casualties.

BM: I started you on politics, but I’m in fact a big fan of your music, even the tracks where you seem to just yell and mumble shit.

Mingus: Who the hell are you anyway? You don’t really know shit about my work, do you? You’re just a hack trying to look cultured. I suppose you travel Europe and speak languages too… [takes a swing at me]

BM: Hey now.. there’s that infamous temper. I once saw a video of you in your New York City apartment, what a dump. And you had a rifle and kept shooting at random spots.

Mingus: I wish I had that gun write now, I can tell you that.

BM: Well… I guess we should say goodbye… thanks alot for being here.. sir?

Mingus: [Walks off before the interview is over, new tune on his mind]

Today’s Sounds: Mingus Big Band – Que Viva

Eve Bonus

Thinking about the end of the year and bloggers I have quietly enjoyed in 2004… I got this from mr. hugh ~

Three names you go by:

BM, Bicyclemark, Meep

Three screennames you have:

bicyclemark; variations on that theme

Three things you like about yourself:

I’m linguistically able

I’m fit as a fiddle

I good at keeping old friendships alive

Three things you dislike/hate about yourself:

I spread myself too thin

Can’t say no

I treat friends better than lovers

Three parts of your heritage:

Well… looking past my 100%Portuguese-ness; Moroccan and Celtic

Three things that scare you:

Going quietly into that good night

Urban sprawl

I’m afraid of Americans

Three of your everyday essentials:

Soymilk with healthy cereal

blog-stylee

morning exercise regime

Three things you are wearing right now:

House slippers

running woosh-woosh pants

William Paterson U (plug!) longsleeve

Three of your favorite bands/artists:

Bill Frisell

The Clash

Caetano Veloso

Three of your favorite songs at present:

23 – Jimmy Eat World

Homesick – Kings of Convenience

Which Way – Nick Drake

Three things you want to try in the next twelve months:

SWEDEN!

Tango LEssons

Starting up a Ska-jazz ensemble (The ‘Dam Allstars)

Three things you want in a relationship (love is a given):

A linguistical melange

Someone certifiably insane

The last thing would involve a nine-iron, some ice cubes, and a cattle prod.

Two truths and a lie:

I often wake up and have no idea what country im in

I’m in love with Amsterdam… bigtime.

There are WMD’s in Iraq.

Three physical things about the opposite sex (or same sex) that appeal to you:

How about one thing – the small of the back… that part that shows as they ride their bikes around town. I want to setup camp on that part of a women. Press my face against it and keep it warm. That… and maybe the vajayjay. hahaha.

Three things you just can’t do:

Move back to the US

Call everyone Im supposed to when I come home

go 3 days without the inkkernet.

Three of your favorite hobbies:

Blogging, obviously

Horn Playing (french please)

Giving random strangers tours of Amsterdam

Three things you want to do really badly right now:

Mat? (i left it in the NL)

Hang Out With D-Rock

Go to Philly

Three careers you’re considering:

Professor, Jazz Musician, UN Civil Servant

Three places you want to go on vacation:

Stockholm, Sweden ( to see marty mcfly)

Buenos Aries, Argentina (to chase ch?)

Tripoli, Libya (best kept secret in North Africa?)

Three kids names:

George, Dick, and Donald

Three things you want to do before you die:

Ride the railroad that cuts through the heart of Australia

knit a blanket

Find inner peace

-Well I sort of enjoyed that.

Today’s Sounds: Specials – Guilty until proven innocent

Dead Man Talkin

Welcome everyone, to my first installment of: I See Dead Historical Figures the series that takes my favorite historical figures who have been dead for quite awhile and asks them what they think of things. This new segment is partially inspired by the work of the Busblog, Winter of Discontent, etc., who have pushed the art of the interview to new heights.

So please welcome, 65 years after his death, Revolutionary, Freedom-Fighter, Book-writer, Military Strategist, and uniform design consultant Leon Trotsky! (applause from blog-studio audience)

BM: First of all Mr. Trotsky, thanks for coming on the blog, especially at such short notice during the holiday season.

LT: please… you will call me comrad.. and spell everything with lowercase letters, just like mr. e.e. cummings and the busblog.

BM: Very well comrad, I see you’ve kept up with developments in the literary world from the afterlife, including blogs?

LT: indeed there is much time for reading after one’s death… and you wouldn’t believe the bandwith and processor speeds we dead people get. i don’t miss a single post from green catfish, or BitchPHD; that pseudonymous kid cracks me up, and occasionally I consult your weblog.

BM: Wow. But lets get away from blogs, lets get back to mexico city, what were those last days in exile like?

LT: purple haze dear comrad… purple haze. although I had barricaded myself into my own personal prison, i had everykind of earthly pleasure my heart desired. except for indoor plumming, what a bitch that was. still, all i did was write and read newspapers… sometimes all day and night, somewhat the way you bloggers might do it.

BM: Were you surprised to have been killed the way you were?

LT: what kind of inbecile questions are these? I’m the founder of the red army for fuck sakes… if I still had body guards i’d have you removed. Perhaps in your own uneducated way, you mean, did i expect to die — yes i did. I knew that bloated bastard koba had his assasins all over mexico city looking for me. the only thing i didn’t expect is that the moron would use the blunt side of the ax. what sort of uncoordinated fool manages to use the wrong end of an ax to kill someone? ironically we still had time to chat about the plight of the proletariat world wide. idiot.

BM: Were you surprised about how the USSR ended? And the last 15 years of world politics?

LT: oh please. it was long overdue. all those bourgois oligarchs pretending to be communists, i tell you… i turned over in my grave for 50 years, it was tiring. i had always said you needed to have a world revolution if it were to really work, otherwise you get places like cuba; poor but with a decent quality of life, surrounded by capitalism, and always on the verge of collapse. too bad the country had to fall in the hands of a new generation of drunk old men and remenents of the white russian army, like putin. still.. i kind of liked that gorbachev… the time of comrad i would have been able to work with.

BM: And what about the west? Bush…terrorism.. etc.

LT: I’m not sure your weblog would have enough space. wbush reminds me of your ted roosevelt and his laughable rough-riders with their cowboy hats and every-human-for-himself philosophy. As a writer and an intellectual, I shudder everytime I hear him speak, and fear the day when he publishes a book. Even if it were a children’s book, I weep for the child that attempts to read it. Terrorism is as old as the world. It strikes me as odd the way many speak of it as a phenonmenon of this melenium.

BM: well comrad, I must be going, my parents are expecting me at their beach bungalow. Before I go… any chances of re-incarnation?

LT: You think you have it tough? I led the bolshevics to victory, and now that damn putin is repealing the 1917 revolution as a national holiday. You privelaged scoundrel, you know nothing of sufferring. As far as re-incarnation, there is a long waiting list. My number should be called in 2006, hopefully I come back somewhere in London.. the place where I actually used to have sex appeal and occasionally.. some fun.

—-

Well there you have it, a perfectly boring new segment on the blog.

Today’s Sounds: Tom Petty – Wildflowers (diggin deeper into my archives)

A Very Lisbon Day

Twas the eve before flying back to Jersey, and all through the nest, not a creature was stirring, ‘cept for that lizard that peeks his head in through the hole in the ceiling.

I tried to call audioblogger to do the deed, but no dice. Hence; no accented BM shouting “I HEART XTX” or “Tracy! Ttothe33! Word to ma Gramma!”, and no audio thank you to my favorite blogger of the Chicago area, for his product placement in his photo which appeared on Busblog. I guess I won’t be able to podcast until I’m states side. Which reminds me of my new desire for the world: broadband as a human right! YES! Right next to food, water, shelter, and expression. I’d like to be the first shallow blogger to put BROADBAND right there on the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. You don’t agree? Try using broadband for 4 years, and then going back to dial-up, it’s a crime against humanity. And I demand liberation world-wide.

Managed to spend the after noon with that infamous wordsmith J.P. We had a Mozambican lunch, just outside the castle walls (yes Lisbon has a nice big one), which hit the spot. The conversation was as colorful as ever, with JP only mentioning assassinating or torturing world leaders a handful of times. Turns out, JP lives next door to the Vatican mission/consulate thingy. If I were him, and maybe he did this already, I would keep my naked bum pressed against the glass as often as possible. I would also dress as Satan, ring their doorbell, and propose holding peace talks.

I?ve taken piles of photos, mostly of the Lisbon Metro which, in my experience, is amongst the coolest in the world. Some telemarketing whorebag tried to stop me on the street and ask me to sell my soul on her clipboard . She starts by walking alongside me and asking if I?m a student or employed, I answered in proper Portuguese, that I?m a tourist. She gave me the ?you’?re an asshole? look and said ?You?re a tourist and you?re Portuguese?? I stopped walking, opened my eyes wide and nodded ? ?That?s right sister!?

So the Portuguese fisherman and ministry of agriculture are on TV all fussy about the EU fishing policies. Apparently the EU decided not to protect certain waters, including lots of Portuguese waters, from overfishing. They made some relatively symbolic reductions in quotas, but all-in-all, it?ll be excessive fishing as usual in Portugal.

What gets me is how unsustainable these guys are. All they care about in the short term. Fish fish fish? doesn?t matter if Cod or Swordfish are on the verge of extinction, they just want to keep pretending the well will never go dry. Once again.. I hate this bullshit narrow-minded economic outlook.

Meanwhile in Amsterdam, Ms_thingk is selling everything.. and returning to Holland…. Michigan. Tune in ma?ana for my jetlagged tribute to her.

Today’s Sounds: RPL – Radio Paris Lisboa (it’s in Portuguese and French!)

Intersecting Lives

(continued from yesterday)

All day and all night I listen to his new album. Waldemar’s voice, guitar, and message destroy me as always. I wanted to be ready when I saw him up on stage today, to sing along, and soak in all the energy his show radiates. I’m not one of those who sings loudly along with very singer you came to see, an obviously repulsive habit some might have. But I love mouthing the words while I dance in my place.. even if they do try and put me in a seat.

The Tropentheater is colonial as hell. It screams world empire, built in that spirit when the Dutch travelled the world stealing resources and trading slaves, like my Portuguese ancestors. That being said, it’s fucking beautiful. And Waldemar didn’t seemed phased by it, his interest lay with the audience, as always.

The band he brought with him was a familiar one at its core. Z?z?, Elias, and the quiet Mozambican whos name escapes me, but who once defended me from the fascist private security of the NJPAC in Newark, they were all as fantastic as ever, and when I appeared backstage, they greeted me with hugs, and remembered our meeting in NYC, over 5 years ago. But the band now consisted of a new guitarist, a Senegalese man who on stage became the crowd favorite, and backstage sat down to converse with me about how he’s about to go on a tour of OZ and NZ with Zap Mama. “Et ?a va avec Zap Mama? Le nouveux cd va bien?” He replied with a very confident, “Mais oui.. tr?s bien.” Together, these artists create an indescribable wall of sound. The kind of wall that is filled with heavenly guitars, make-you-dance cungas, and seductive bass lines, which can teleport you to Luanda for an evening by the sea, watching the fishing boats.

As I walked in the backstage door, ignoring whatever signs telling me not to enter, Waldemar was in mid handshake-hug-signautograph-takephotomode. He wasn’t surprised to see me. He gave me a big smile, bearhug, and demanded the room’s attention, “Vo?es lembrem-se deste jovem?…” (you guys remember this young man? From NJ to Lisbon, and now he lives here!) And a few people came over to greet me, including one of his sons, who I had only spoken on the phone with a few times. This younger version of Waldemar was not only kind, but an excellent story teller, I couldn’t stop listening to him, as he told a story of the family’s first return to Angola since civil war ended. I MUST GO THERE… I kept thinking.

And well.. the rest of this story stays with me… my memory of yet another meeting with both a man and a musician that I admire to no end. Oh, and I’m invited to his house when I arrive in Lisbon this Tuesday. He kept saying “Now I don’t invite just anyone to my house BM! Only those with good hearts, and you’re like family… so please come.”

I will.

Today’s Sounds: Waldemar Bastos – Live in Amsterdam (my mpegs)