Good morning. Hello. How are you? #1166
Portishead, Drake, Kendrick, Birthday, sci fi dream, Rafah, Golden Boy Fish Sauce, always believe in your future, terrifying cicadas, Genghis and religious freedom
Good morning. Hello. How are you? I am good. It is my birthday. I am fifty-two years old. It is going pretty well so far. It did not require half the school staff to get Jane into school today, she was even excited about it. Considering that for the second night in a row she refused to go to bed, this was a pleasant surprise.
I had a fucking awesome dream, total sci fi, just wildly imaginative. Had elements of the Fall of the Reach in Halo and the underrated (from an art direction point of view at least) Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets, Blade Runner, the Mars colony in the original Total Recall. Just some flat-out bonkers stuff like a giant amusement park space station shaped like the big baby on that Thai brand of Fish Sauce, with cords coming out of his floating baby body, which had space roller coasters and shit in it. There was a cyber dating facility for blind people that was very clever. There was a SPACE RV. That was pretty sweet. Lotta dystopian panopticon government surveillance stuff, Gautier-Met-Ball fashion stuff (wonder where that came from, I guess I was processing the trauma of seeing Met ball photos) but nothing a plucky hacker (yours truly) couldn’t bypass. They had nefariously, brilliantly, found a way to charge by the watt for fusion energy which is just so brilliantly sci fi evil. Free energy? Fuck that, pay the man. Oh and AI robot babies that were very cute but also very scared and in need of a father figure like yours truly, the plucky hacker gathering a band of misfits in his SPACE RV. A+ would recommend.
Used to always buy Golden Boy Fish Sauce because of the homage on the cover of the Think Tree record, speaking of Boston bands that did not “fit in” even though they were great.
This morning I am listening to the 25th anniversary reissue of Portishead’s Roseland live album and I still think it might be one of the greatest, if not the greatest, live recording of all time. The reissue sounds so, so good. A vast improvement over the already solid Music on Vinyl 2012 release. A+ would recommend man I would love to see them again.
So, yes, birthday. I am a mix of unmitigated stress, and ailments, and my life is amazing and the world is amazing and my life is filled with pain and suffering and the world is filled with pain and suffering and my birthday will always be henceforth somewhat dampened by the loss of Mike two years ago on a day so close to it, but that is okay, because I am alive, dammit. I love being alive, it fucking rules even when it sucks I would always choose being alive over being not alive. I will always look toward my future. This is something I have come to deeply, passionately believe: always believe in your future. Sean told me a story about his grandma up and moving at 87, then moving again at 90, and now she just moved again at, what was it, 93? Keep planning for an amazing future. Assume your future is going to be better than your present, hold on to this belief in the face of all opposition.
Hamas agreed to a cease fire and in response, Israel invaded Rafa, and god knows how many people died last night. I haven’t worked up the courage to look at the news this morning, and of course we won’t know for 10 years anyway because of disinformation and whatnot what mass graves by hospitals what are you talking about. Those people probably fucking loved being alive too. It is hard to live in a world where people do such things. I am not quite clear on how invading a town filled with starving people is going to improve the situation of the average Israeli but then I am bear of very little brain. In the Milne sense (Milnean?), not in the current cultural zeitgeist sense where, you know, I try to be a good guy and you could probably safely hang out with me in the woods, but also I would probably choose the bear in your situation too, and this is coming from a dude who, you know, grew up with bears and thought his friend was killed by a bear but OH WAIT NO that was just a lie his non-bear MAN DAD told because they did not want to deal with their feelings or some shit and so here I am 45 years later still messed up over it, man, that was a crazy story, I would link to the GMHHAY edition where I learned the horrible truth after 45 years (thank you, Laura) but Substack’s search function is not quite up to the task yet, though it is improving. I mean, not, like Substack’s improving politically, but their search function is. Let’s not give them too much credit. Though that other newsletter software I was slowly working up the gumption to migrate to just took a bunch of VC funding so, you know, so much for that move.
And there you have in literary form how I deal with the trauma of the Middle East, I guess. I ramble off topic, touching on suicide and bears and Substack and then I move on because what else is there to really do.
(I was going to work Timothy Treadwell in there too, cuz Alaska, but it kinda went into a different direction didn’t it.)
Oh ha well I guess I also just stumbled upon the last remaining way Drake has a snowball’s chance in hell beating Kendrick, which would be to put out a diss track today that was secretly an anti-genocide polemic WHOOPS attention hijack. I would maybe have some respect then, I guess. I never thought about Drake in my life before this week, and I do enjoy a Kendrick album now and again but I… I dunno, man. I feel bad for Drake. Not because I like him, but god damn. Imagine. Unless he’s actually got a pedo ring but I remain somewhat dubious of that. Though, we’re talking like 50.1% dubious here, this is not a strongly held belief I ain’t dying on no Drake hill, and anyway he’s sinking faster than my libido in my 50’s, so I suspect by tomorrow I’ll fully endorse the theory.
I can’t believe I listened to every one of those songs. I actually kind of like The Heart Part Six, like I think the title is hilarious and I don’t think Drake misunderstood the lyrics to Mother I Sober I think he is extending and inferring. You know, Drake has so profoundly lost this battle, I don’t think it hurts to give him an ounce of the benefit of the doubt. Because, sadly, the benefit of the doubt isn’t going to help him much.
My god this Portishead album rules.
That band’s got some weird dynamics. Beth’s solo albums are never as good, Geoff is a Twitter-addicted angry white guy. Not, like, in a racist way, but, like, stop making fun of Threads and just accept it, Geoff. But, also, man, your soundtracks rule. And I have no clue what’s up with Adrian Utley what does that dude do with his time? I have this disturbing inference that they just don’t get along, because why else aren’t they, you know, making Portishead albums?
The internet tells me that in the last few years, Adrian has worked with Marianne Faithful, Squirrel Flower, Torres, Stefano Pilia and Phil Selway, so good on you Adrian. Oh and the Paraorchestra, a remarkable project in England involving famed musicians, paraplegics and just gloriously happy public parades and such.
Ramble ramble ramble it is my birthday let me ramble. I was going to go to Charlotte to get my Dewalt miter saw fixed, remember that drama? There are definitely days where four hours in a car listening to music is exactly the way I want to spend the day, but it turns out today is not one of those days. I was going to get my truck washed, too. Maybe I’ll still do that. I need to put a second coat of anti-fouling marine paint on the bottom of the turtle dock, I will definitely do that but it will take like 30 minutes.
I would do more gardening but I am ABSOLUTELY TERRIFIED OF THE CICADAS IT IS OUT OF CONTROL. There were like 50 dead cicadas outside of the greenhouse yesterday and another fifty inside. Just fucking EVERYWHERE. Spawn till death, remember those shirts in the 80’s with the salmon on them that the creepy stoner dude in your gym class wore? Or was that just an Alaska thing? Anyway they are terrifying and LOUD and it sounds like there is a power plant about to explode just behind the trees, except it sounds like it’s behind ALL THE TREES, in every direction. And then on top of that, there are 3-4 of the normal cicada sounds, the one that sounds more like a lawn sprinkler. And that one is recognizable enough so you think “oh wait, that’s the cicadas, not the terrifying power plant sound” except no. THEY BOTH ARE. I was so excited about this Cicada brood but it is terrifying and golden. Like that masked thing in Clash of the Titans. Or was it Caligula. I get those two messed up.
Man that was a funny line.
Before the hell of bedtime refusal, we did Daddy Bedtime last night and Daddy School. Discussed the conversion of Rome to christianity, talked about the split into the two empires, the sacking of Rome, the dark ages. Felt like I had to end on a positive note so I hinted at the Renaissance. Was really a site to behold to watch a six year old grapple with the concept of hundreds of years of nothing but death, disease and famine. Europe sounds pretty bad to her right now. She likes China better, but still loves no one as much as the Mongols god damn my daughter loves Mongolia. She likes that Genghis Khan gave people religious freedom. She is very into the idea of religious freedom, now that she is aware of religion at all.
Oh and I had to give Greece props for “democracy” but, you know, just rich white men. So then she asked how long it took for women to vote after that and I was like “two thousand years” and she was not particularly pleased with that bit of info. So we had to talk about sexism and that was a giant ass bummer. She learned the term “women’s suffrage” and, at the age of six, was like “S-U-F-F-R-A-G-E?” Just amazing. She is amazing.
One of the best ads of all time I would go to a UHD theatrical premiere of that ad.
Today’s Media of the Day is this song by Casiotone for the Painfully Alone, which has been going through my head all morning for some reason.
This line, just so much pathos and sadness in it:
This September I'll be 26 years old
And Elle's the only one besides my dad
Who's ever said I love you Creedence
I love you, Creedence.
Happy birthday! I’m ever so grateful you were born ♥️
Happy birthday Richard!
As for your space RV, you were piloting Lone Star's Eagle 5 then?
https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/spaceballs/images/a/a6/Spaceballs-eagle5.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/1000?cb=20181208022536