Packing with A-Ren

My nephew A-Ren is in charge of packing my bags, as I’m off to the ‘dam via Lisbon in a few hours. He’s taking extra care that each item goes in his mouth, which I’m convinced is his personal x-ray machine, to ensure my safety before packing. He’s also been extra generous by giving me extra drool on my shirt… for the road. Once the my hip new pilot’s bag is closed, le petit prince will be sure to bang both hands against it and drum me the latest beat from the Portuguese-American toddler underground scene.

In the background we listen to the next Attourney General on the radio, getting his anus licked by the US’s poor excuse for a congress. These wealthy senior citizens sound like mini versions of W Bush….. they talk like him.. they use his broken sentences and his pseudo-words. The only highlight has been that Biden guy, who at once point said “I love you guy… but you haven’t answered any questions today.” At least he’s honest about what an ass-kissing session this really is. Who the hell are these robots?

Barbara Boxer rocks the house. Literally. Not only does she have a cool name when you’re in the business of fighting the bastards, but she stands as the only person willing to say some ill shit went on in Ohio. You kalipornians are pretty lucky to have her… compared to what the rest of us get.

Ugh.. if I have to hear one more time about how “we live in the greatest democracy in the world” … it almost seems like they’re trying to convince themselves… just keep repeating it.

So I’m leavin… on a jetplane.. don’t know when I’ll be back again. I did want to hand out some thank you’s: Vegan Mike, Davey Darko, Cathy VanGogh, Syles, and Kenshu, who made my last night in New Jersey a nice one.

Pays-Bas… I’m comin home!

Today’s Sounds: Barbara Boxer’s Testimony on WBAI NYC

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

On Death

Human memory is an amazing thing. I attended a wake this evening for an old friend. By old friend, I mean someone I knew throughout high school, and hadn’t spoken to in 6 years. Still I think we had fond memories of one another and both knew bits and pieces about each other’s recent life-adventures, as information gets around in NJ suburbs.

As I stood in line… one of the longest lines I’ve ever seen as these things, I kept scanning the crowd. Suddenly, areas of my memory which had been long packed up in grey matter, were reactivated. I looked at photo collages and remembered that high school actually happened. I looked at faces that I couldn’t give names to anymore, people who smiled at me, and somehow, I couldn’t remember. Basically, I hugged and kissed anyone who looked like they deserved it… which was mildly entertaining in such an excessively somber occasion. Sometimes I wish people would spent less time mourning the dead and more time celebratin’ them… for the great people they were.

At dinner I asked my parents, quite seriously, that if I ever die young, they should make sure to have a big party with lots of good ska/jazz/punk/80’s/world music. They can take all the money some people spend on flowers and whatnot, buy some healthy exotic foods, and fly in my favorite people from around the world (who maybe can’t afford it). Everyone will be required to tell a story relating to me, and someone should record those stories on mp3 to pass onto to future generations who will look at MP3’s the same way I look at A-Tracs. Photo-collages are encouraged, and beautiful ladies saying things like “I was secretly in love with him” will also be appreciated. Hell, the men can say it too, that’s flattering. And for fucks sakes, its my death party, so no images relating to religion and keep your prayers to yourself, cause I worship the golden calf and she’s all I need. Oh and of course, everyone should blog about it… I want a blog shrine dammit.

Anyway, my original point- lots of respect and love for all those loved ones we’ve lost recently, especially my old friend.

Tomorrow, perhaps ironically, a new installment of “I See Dead Historical Figures”, featuring Jazz Bassist and Statesman Charles Mingus.

Today’s Sounds: Billy Joel – Greatest Hits Disc. 1 (found it behind some boxes)

Blog Scientist

I have THE cutest photos of A-Ren… too many to post.. too many to look at, as the cute gland in your occipital lobe will burst and liquify in a state of “awwwww”.

Jamiee of the Known Universe called me something of a blog scientist. I love jamie for the way he understands and translates my bla-bla-bla. Hangin out and talking with him is like hanging out with someone I’ve known for years. Plus his family has roots in Newark – the Brick City. And then he also has links to Union, NJ as well. All we have to do now is prove that Jamie is Portuguese and we’ll be de facto brothers…. fo shizzle.

So I went into the village and met up with he and the world-reknown Torontonienne, who got bored in Accordian City and came down to NYC. She’s crashing with Jamie, coincidentally I introduced them over dinner back in Amsterdam this past fall. I like to feel good for bringing bloggers and friends together, which also creates this humongous social network, where everybody is separated by a few degrees. Take Anti Dis, for example; I was not a reader of his blog, but I knew of him. Then I noticed the Torontienne had met him over the blogosphere, and apparently Jamie is friends with him as well. Viola – one beautifully incestuous blogosphere… now I feel like I know a little about Anti and I read his blog.

As Jamie mentioned in his blog, I can talk for hours about the social networks that are in orbit around groups of blogs. Whether they be readers, writers, online or offline, everyone is connected somehow. I love how I can talk to my offline friends, like my brother and say things like “So Brian from theStateImIn is doing so and so” and since he reads my blog and reads the comments, he knows exactly who Im talkin about. In fact, he separated by one degree from Brian…. via me.

I really started waxing lyrical about mapping the blogosphere as the three of us walked into a used bookstore near Cooper Square last night. I talked about Mathemagenic’s “Rose Diagram” which shows weblogs as little nodes, and how many other blogs are connected to them. I remember first seeing this and trying to find my little node branching out from the busy nucleus. Jamie laughed and said his node would probably be somewhere near pluto. I reminded him that wherever it was, you can bet its a huge molecule looking thing, because he is a dam well known and prolific blogger.

Oh and I heard Dave Chapelle on NPR the other day. I don’t care how excessively popular he is, the man is one of my comic heros.

Today’s Sounds: The Roots – Tipping Point

New but not happy

For some inexplicable reason, I’ve spent the last 4 new years eves in the most random of spots, and often feeling completely alien and out of place. At times it was laughable and other times it was depressing. Last night falls somewhere in between.

When I moved my life in 2001, to Portugal, New Years was spent with my darling cousin N on the beaches of S?o Martinho. You could hear the countdown echoed through the night air, and we were each armed with a bottle of champaign to shake and pop. We also ate raisins… as per the Portuguese tradition, one for each wish (or something like that.. I always forget) Then they did some nightswimming (which deserves a quiet night).

Little did I know then, that one year later, I would be somewhere -lost- in Flatbush, Brooklyn.. having just visited a Dutch gal I had a crush on who was also in NYC for new years, I was on my way to see Mr. David the Worldchanger. I could hear the echoes from Manhattan, as it must have been midnight… but all I could think was — this is symbolic.. I don’t know where I am in life, or at the start of the new year.

Last year was yet another unplanned adventure, as leah8 and I abandoned the portuguese community center and headed to a punk-new year party in New Brunswick, NJ. Oddly enough a few people recognized me from the band days, stopping me and saying “Yo… you were in OCG man.. that was awesome!” To which I just said, thanks, and went on sipping my pbl.

Which brings us to last night. Once again abandoning the community center after having played with the grandparents for a few hours and eating the fair share. The party was at Cathy Van Gogh’s caf?.. supposedly only for friends. Turns out these “friends” were my least favorite people from highschool… mafia types who got extremely fat in the last few years. Found myself wishing I was back in Amsterdam, and promising that next year I’d spend this shit with people I actually like.

Fortunately I escaped in Styles’s VW, and we sped down the highway, dodging drunk drivers, to do something very NEW JERSEY… we hit up a diner for some eats. I ordered all the stuff I love and can’t really get in the ‘dam. A bagel and a chocolate milkshake. Man… I felt like I was Kevin Arnold and we were in the wonder years. Styles misses me… he doesn’t have to say it… he conveys it in his tone. I miss my old roommate too… we’ve got a bond that runs deep… no matter how far away I live or how much time passes.

And so, while the new year starts dark in Argentina and throughout Southeast Asia… to name a few… there’s always a bit of hope. For starters, looks like all is settled in Kiev. Its not much.. but at least its not violence.

Plus… I’m lovin Kalipornia.

Happy New Year friends.

Today’s Sounds: Mighty Mighty Bosstones – Live from the middle east