been awhile since i feel like ive written something good on here. do i feel like i owe it to you people to produce? not exactly. to myself? no not really. i feel like i only really owe it to the idea of this blog-that the only way for it to exist as something credible is if it contains things that are substantive. what the blog itself may fail to realize is that was never really my intention from the get-go, but of course the blog would never know that. blogs dont have feelings lawl. but i suppose the idea of them do, and that can be supported through some argument i dont know how to even begin to formulate. will this even be good? i dunno, but ill throw a little effort into it just the same.
i guess theres a lot of things i want to get to here tonight, if possible. i may be up a while yet, but thats ok. the rooms dark, the window is open and the music is on. just the glow of the laptop here. i suppose this is the modern day equivalent of writing by a single candle. its not really the same though, and a lot of me yearns for that. some say to let bygones be bygones though. again, i dont necessarily agree with that either. its that idea of remembrance and nostalgia that im particularly guilty of holding in high esteem, i suppose. i dont really know.
i went for a run today over in fants grove. it was nice. saw a lot of frogs in a creek, stopped to pay attention. i like it out there. suppose ill go back tomorrow. hate running but i like being over there. its a fair tradeoff.
ive been looking at starting to make some furniture. i need a few more tools to make some proper stuff, but im going to make a few sets of bookcases this summer for sure. nothing too fancy, might even just use pine. im just ready to get my hands moving again after spending four years staring at books. theres a part of us schools seem to try to take away, or at least neglect. its really a shame. we could do some good if theyd let us.
the guardian had a story up about a kid in the sudan who had been abducted and forced into slavery. we have it so revoltingly good here that it makes me ill.
might take some time to talk about horse feathers for a minute--. its been a week on since we went, but its all still pretty clear in my mind. that of course means that it was pretty good. they had a guy from seattle opening, guy named barton carroll. good guy, really self referential and you could tell. i like that in a singer songwriter. a really interesting stage presence, he as a performer was more of a reflection of the audience rather than an impression upon them. thats rare, and i enjoyed it. he might be likened to a certain nick hornby. in that he gives the appearance of bearing a lot of some notion of a 'man's soul' or whatever youd want to call it, but in reality hes discussing only whats painfully obvious. its pretty neat to hear. great back and forth with the guy wearing bike cleats. interesting guy, id like to catch him again.
theres always so much suspense here. 'and now about what we came to see...; the main act was...; etc etc, we know how it goes.' i dont know about that style of building something up. first of all, i dont know how well it works for something like horse feathers. i mean ok, lots of people/bands/whatever like to have their ego's served, but i would hazard to guess that many more would much rather just have their stories told. lets just try to be that much less formulaic. formulaic? maybe blase is the word i want, because im sincerely interested in the words and music here.
we were lucky enough to see horse feathers do their first show in the southern appalachians. this is remarkable, given the way their music is presented, as something if not quintessentially then tangentially southern gothic. its hard to believe that one could appreciate the area so much, yet have never witnessed it until now. its the same sentiment i have with the french and their unabashed love for all things faulkner. i simply cannot trust that they fully understand the meaning within. in fact, i know, for better or for worse, that they cannot. but i digress. they seemed to like it here though, and thats good. portland oregon isnt half bad either.
i think that theres another way to think about this, though. are we guilty of forcing the southern gothic narrative to remain with us, or rather confined to us? those from the south, who have to live with the stigma of what happened in the 1860s, jim crow, the depression and all else. the homeland/wasteland dichotomy that defines our existence, perhaps more than anything. though its of course in the present that the new york city cops are the ones who shoot unarmed black muslim men in the streets. but maybe thats not a fair assessment of the situation, because isnt it always them judging us and passing the 'final' verdict anyway? at least in terms of the public consciousness? but again, i digress. still though, i really want to know the answer here.
maybe this just isnt fair. maybe these themes born out of the southern gothic tradition are more, well, transferrable, than we think. maybe its we that are too selfish. certainly the grotesque, the wanderer, the cripple, the lost, the forsaken and the bible salesman are not confined to 10 or so states centered around geography and a semi-shared heritage. thats laughable. why then, is there no established pacific northwest genre to fit the mold? that horse feathers cannot be thought of as such? its strange to me. in fact, there really is no anglo-culture unique to the pac nw is there? i guess thats because it was settled so recently? i dont know. but its just hard to fathom for me. and its not semantics, but rather the themes linked with the genre. blame critics for this hoopla i guess. always a safe bet. they made the term up anyway i suppose. id really like to ask erskine caldwell about this. come to think of it, i wonder what hed say?
ill guess, but it wont be accurate. he'll probably shake from his grave. i can hope not.
1-we no longer have our oral tradition. or rather our oral tradition is no longer particular.
2-theres no longer a passion about simplicity, functionality.
3-we see starts and ends today, when in fact reality is never discrete, but always continuous.
4-experience and imagination are not mutually exclusive, but rather are the very nature of storytelling.
5-character development is the story.
6-are hardships and struggle truly shared amongst others?
7-i should have written that book on jimmy carter
i dont know if thats half-passable. might be.
hed be a great one to talk to.
i guess ive not really talked about the concert itself. not yet anyway. itll come though. 2:00 is coming around and i cant make it much past that anymore. apologies.