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The administration of President George W. Bush is planning a massive bombing campaign against Iran, including use of bunker-buster nuclear bombs to destroy a key Iranian suspected nuclear weapons facility, The New Yorker magazine has reported in its April 17 issue.

Also, "this White House believes that the only way to solve the problem is to change the power structure in Iran, and that means war." And "Bush and others in the White House have come to view Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad as a potential Adolf Hitler." That's right, another one.

Well, we know how this movie goes. (Here's the original article.) To take your mind off the next war, why not come out to the Blue Rock Shoot tonight? Tin Cat is playing with our friend Dave Ray. I promise not to sing any songs about preemptive invasions of sovereign states.

Current Music: The Mumlers, "Re

We didn't make it to New Mexico, but we did go to the Petrified Forest/Painted Desert, with the Grand Canyon on the way there and a lot of dinosaurs on the way back. So that was pretty great. Expect photos.

Hey, remember me? Here are some things that are going on:

Yes, I'm living in the Bay Area again, or still. I went to Minneapolis from Thanksgiving to Christmas; I came back for a while, but wasn't really here; now I'm really here. No one can say what the future can bring, but I'm happy here now.

My music schedule is getting busy enough that I had to start keeping a calendar. A bunch of shows with Vermillion Lies, a couple with DeatHat and Tin Cat, and my first solo set since, uh, my going-away party back in October. Except I probably won't play it solo.

I'm going to New Mexico next week! What's in New Mexico, you ask? So do I! Any tips, send them my way. As I understand it the itinerary includes Taos, which probably means we'll at least pass through Albuquerque and Santa Fe.

The Bush administration continues to tell us it is not bound by law--for example, in the Patriot Act reauthorization signing statement, and in the Department of Justice's remarks on the NSA domestic spying program. "This is not theory. The Administration is not saying these things as a joke. We really do live in a country where we have a President who has seized the unlimited power to break the law."

On a whim and a dare, you go to Uzbekistan for dinner.

( Read more... )

... or maybe 11? Doors open at 9. Apparently "special guest" will be opening for us. Life is strange.

Tin Cat is playing at the Blank Club at 11:30 Wednesday night. Past my bedtime, so if you go, expect to see me fall off the stage--you don't want to miss that.
Vermillion Lies is at the Ugly Mug in Soquel on Saturday, and I think I'll be joining them. The Sketchbook Quartet headlines.
Next Friday I'll be with them again at the Delta of Venus, in Davis, California.
I think I'm sitting in with a new edition of Altamont Pass next Saturday (1/28).

People keep asking me, "Didn't you move to Minnesota?" (Or, just as often, "Didn't you move to... uh, Wisconsin?") Well, I was there for six weeks. I don't really have a good answer, though.

Last week I took one of those toy Myers-Briggs quizzes. It said I was way introverted (duh), mostly judging (okay), and more sensing than intuitive--but only by 1%. Also 1% more thinking than feeling. This nicely matches the ambivalent feeling I always get when I read about these attributes.

Some things I've attended this weekend:

Two Beckett plays. Rough for Theater One felt like Beckett parody: a cripple and a blind man meet and play head games with each other. God's absence is discussed. It's one of those Beckett plays that doesn't seem to tell me anything about the world, only about the mental state of a dead playwright. Krapp's Last Tape had something to say about memory and regret, though. And Theatre/Theater was cool. The audience was full of directors, it felt like part of a community.
Masters of American Comics at the Armand Hammer Museum. The bad vibes started at the coat check counter that elevates staff over patron, continued with the I'm-doing-you-a-favor attitude of the guy who sold me my ticket, and when I read the exhibit's goal "to establish a canon" I knew I'd met the enemy. The anti-democratic impulse in the art world is a hot button for me anyway, and to apply this kind of hushed, constricted awe to comics just seems sick. I liked the Japanese prints from Frank Lloyd Wright's collection, though.
The Jim Henson Show at the Museum of Television and Radio. More bad museum vibes, but the pilot episode was funny.
The Book of Liz at Second Stage. How could Amy Sedaris have co-written something this trite? Is it her brother's fault?
The second and third Indiana Jones movies at the Aero. I don't think I'd ever seen Temple of Doom, but I read the Mad parody when it came out, so it was easy to catch up when I dozed off. (Note to those who'll understand it: This wasn't time travel, I'm just tired.)

Looking back, it doesn't sound like I was having much fun, but I was keeping busy enough that I didn't notice. I kind of want a cream puff from Beard Papa.

I'm in Los Angeles and Orange County this week. Anything I shouldn't miss? The event calendar seems strangely, well, not empty, but kind of dull.

Body and Soul:

The hardest part is not recognizing the value in another human being; the hardest part is accepting someone else seeing that value in you.

(For full context, start here and continue to the next two posts.)

Oh yeah: I'm in the Bay Area again this week. If you're here too and would like to see me, get in touch. Also, I'll be playing with Vermillion Lies at the Makeout Room on Wednesday.

A year ago I wrote: "I didn't write a 2004-in-review post; a year is not my preferred unit of nostalgia." This makes even more sense today. The end of 2005 left me with a whole lot of unresolved. Still, here are some things I did last year, in some kind of emotional order:

Started a new band, its break-up built-in.
Left two other bands.
Played the accordion.
Ran a concert series.
Supported other people's music.
Lost interest in my own music.
Met an unparalleled friend.
Found myself unexpectedly in love.
Opened up to the world, just a little bit more.
Gave away most of what I owned.
Moved out of my seven-year home.
Didn't, yet, move into a new one.

A year ago I continued: "And I don't do resolutions; it's like making an appointment for future guilt." Still true. So, not a resolution, but a realization this morning: I should start keeping an actual journal. A lot has happened that I never wrote down, and would like to remember.

Well, Jack Black is perfect as the impresario, and I'd watch Naomi Watts in just about anything. But I wonder if Peter Jackson will ever make a short movie again.


Ecolab (public art)	condos for sale	Ecolab (reflected building)

Looking to kill some time between Point Blank at the Oak Street Cinema and the Urban Hillbilly Quartet at the Turf Club, I dropped by Ginkgo for some tea, and ended up running sound for Chris Trapper, out on a solo tour. I love the Twin Cities.

I finally got to see Living Spoon tonight. I don't know who they think they sound like, but they remind me of early Police--clean guitar tone, melodic bass lines, intelligent drumming--if the Police's ideas about song structure had come from prog rock instead of reggae. Especially when Nate is singing and playing electric guitar. I have a feeling "the Police, but prog" is not the best way I could win them new fans, but, well, I liked it a lot.

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