justifying your muses.

I just have to refer you to the latest post on Click Opera, Momus's livejournal. Or, more specifically, check out the battle that ensues in the comments and threads below the entry. In a nutshell, the post is Momus's take on Brian Eno's view of beautiful women as cultural objects, to be observed and appreciated and studied like places and events in cultural history.

Momus writes a lot. Nearly every day he has a new essay posted on his livejournal, discussing his philosophies and why he thinks the way he does. Hell, if he decides he likes pink Peeps instead of yellow Peeps, he'll type up an essay filled with literary and artistic references to prove that it is historically sound to like pink Peeps. But while reading his Women as Culture post, I soon felt that he was writing too much and setting himself up to be skewered. The longer you explain something the more likely you are to offend or provoke someone, and by the end of the last paragraph I knew there was probably a war going on in the comments area. And there most certainly was. And it's pretty damn funny.

One thing I found amusing is that Momus's livejournal seems to be read by a bunch of people who hate his guts. If you are a fan of Momus, then you know that he loves Japanese women and he hates America's brand of feminism. He hints at it in everything he writes, and he's addressed these points many times before. But as soon as he makes it the subject of an essay, the voices of a hundred western female readers can be heard yelling "now he's gone too far! Yellow Peeps deserve respect!"

VS.
Momus & Marxy: Who can throw his brain harder at the other?

Something else I thought was funny is Momus's constant ripping on Marxy, another musician who lives in Japan and writes about the culture on his own blog. I like how over the past year or so Marxy seems to have become The Misfits to Momus's Jem, so to speak, as Marxy's views of Japan and pop are generally more pessimistic than those of his nemesis, and the two frequently give each other shit because of it. I just want to see them have it out with rapiers aboard a pirate ship, or otherwise just throw their brains at each other.

Momus gets in trouble not for featuring pictures of girls he thinks are attractive, but for featuring them and then trying to start an argument as to why he is justified in featuring them. "I love pink peeps because they are the best, and I dare you to debate me." He got in the same mess when he attempted to explain his love for Japanese women and why nobody can attack him for it, and ended up getting attacked viciously by feminist wolves. You don't need to explain your crushes, man! Don't justify your muses! It's all just a stone grooooove!
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What I mean is, to each his own. I can give props to my muses, my choice beautiful women, my favorite cultural objects without necessarily asserting that you should all appreciate them. For example, my desktop features a picture of Enazo from the band Lolita No.18. I like her because she's a Japanese punk rocker, because she plays a blue FLYING-V, and because she's cute. Or how about Shena Ringo, who gets mentioned enough on this blog to be the Flying Wheel of its namesake. And let me give mention to Mana, a girl I met a few weeks ago, who could inspire me enough to write an entire opera in a day. Y'all don't agree with me and my choice of muses? Well, you can cram it with walnuts, cause I don't care.


Mana and a muse. It's just fun to say- muse.

But I think I would be underestimating Momus's intelligence if I thought he wasn't expecting an argument. I would guess that he enjoys getting hounded on his livejournal simply because he is a master-debator(...heh). No matter what someone says, no matter what anyone throws at him, the guy manages to make them look uninformed or misled. Or he will wait until everyone commenting gets into arguments amongst themselves and then take the opportunity to write a new post and change the subject. "The discussion is over, folks. Pink Peeps are the shit. Now, moving on to why Jack Johnson's a plonker..."

So anyway, in other news, I am hoping to have a new song finished soon. Something you can dance to, maybe.
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repairs.

I realized today that the download buttons on my myspace music site were not working, so I promptly fixed them. Now the songs I post there are downloadable.
Actually, at the moment I write this the site is undergoing maintenance, so if you try to download a song you are taken to a page where you can play Pac-Man instead. I think it's rather nice, kind of a "Dammit...oh well, I guess I'll eat the dots."

My friend Jose recently finished his design website, and merely days later he was contacted by a design company in Portland interested in his work. Here's his kick-ass website:
www.penapoca.com
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albums and visual vitamins.

Dennis has uploaded Synestheseus in its entirety as a zip file on his OSU webspace. If you feel like downloading it, go here.

Also, I finally found - in my extensive Hotmail archives - the address to my old friend Adi Saputra's new photo website. Adi currently lives and works in Japan, and is an all-around cool dude in addition to being a fantastic photographer. His love for that country becomes highly contagious through his keen, colorful photographs. Check out his stuff; it's good for you.


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this is the new stuff.

I've been rather off the ball recently as far as posting, so I apologize. I was scheduled to move out of my apartment on Wednesday but I arranged to stay until the end of the month, so at least I know I can retain my livelihood for a little longer.

Aside from drumming with The Taste, I was completely musically unproductive over the summer. I gave out some copies of Synestheseus and dinked around on my guitar, but nothing was recorded. I was concerned with other things, like finishing college and subsequently trying to survive. But I am always thinking about musical styles, what they mean, and what I would like to do with them. I am always learning songs and writing new ones. Now that my computer and I are back in Corvallis, I have found some time to record again, and thus I present a new little Caws Pobi song on my newly customized Myspace page.

So now I get to rant about who's been inspiring me lately: Leon Redbone and his mysterious, nostalgic blues-hepcat persona; Django Reinhardt, the jazzy gypsy and probably my favorite guitarist ever; early Momus and his skewed pop-storytelling; Revolver by the Beatles; Tom Waits and his bad self; and good ol' 60s Dylan and his beat-folk.

I must also announce that Captain A and the Sounds of B may be fixin' to blow your minds once again. Keep your ear to the ground, mateys.


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The Infinite Control Microwave.


We flew in Zack for some co-producing.



Luke in the recording office. Promotion: "We use Acid 4.0 for it's easy-to-use interface and smooth, earthy aftertaste. For good times, make it Acid times." -The Taste



Putting in the long hours.

I'm forced to come to OSU's library to use the internet, since my computer is still in Lebanon. I took it there because these last few weeks The Taste has been recording a demo and I'm playing the part of producer as well as drummer, tweaking all the tracks and making them sound sensational(hopefully).

I returned to Corvallis over the weekend to wait for phone calls from potential employers, and while here I watched some movies. The Kill Bills are always entertaining, as is the Led Zeppelin concert collection. I also saw The Others with Nicole Kidman, one of those ghost movies where at the end you say "oh, now I get it. ...Hm." I realized while watching the movie how scary orchestras are. When the character walks into a room to investigate a strange occurence, I'm not afraid of a ghost jumping out; I'm afraid that there is a string quartet in the room poised to play a loud, short minor-chord when she opens the door. Then again, I suppose most scary movies wouldn't be very scary without all the violins and cellos lurking behind every corner.
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The show.

Okay, I finally made it back to Corvallis and to a computer that actually works. So here are some pictures of the happenings that went down on and around August 31.


Me and Chad and Alexio outside Ash Street, waiting to take in our stuff. Alexio was our muscle. I was sporting my P.O.W. look.


The Taste.


Dat's me. Casey of Speaker Rhodes was nice enough to let me use his drum kit, which came with the added challenge of having 1 rack tom instead of the 2 that I am used to. Nonetheless, his kit is a sweet baby.


Luke rocks out with the Altoid-box theremin.


Our crew dominated the bar. ...And Ethan dominated this photo.


And the next night we rode around in a limo. With James. And the Don.
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music oasis.

Hello.
I haven't found a proper place to relocate and rebuild my music site, but in the meantime I have set up a nifty little page on MySpace Music. You know MySpace; it's that site where you create a profile with all your friends to remind yourself how many (or how little) friends you have. I created a normal profile, but it serves no purpose and will probably be destroyed soon. The music extension of the network, however, is pretty keen. My favorite part is looking up experimental and progressive musicians living right here in Oregon, like Antonio Granite.

Anyway, here is my page.

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Fear of Prog?

Is it bad to be prog? Such is the question I've been pondering recently. I'm speaking of prog in the musical sense, not the political (it's always good to be prog politically, silly).

Prog as in progressive. Progressive is good, right? It's always better to progress than to revert, right? Maybe. Then how come prog rock has become such a joke? The fundamentals are there; make rock music progress. Create something new with such an old, honored institution. But alas, the verdict stands. Prog sucks.

And who can we blame for screwing up such a good idea? How about those bands who popularized the term, bands like Yes and Genesis and late Pink Floyd? Face it; The Wall is probably the most overratted album of the 70s. Pink Floyd were good before with Dark Side of the Moon and their earlier stuff, but I guess that still fell into the realm of psychedelic, a term which is undeniably cool. It wasn't until they started mediocre-izing that they went around saying "Prog prog prog. I'm a prog. Would you like some more prog on your prog?" And even though Peter Gabriel is a great deal cooler than Phil Collins, in the grand scope of things they both tend to suck.* And as for Yes, I just have to say No.


Collins and Gabriel: "Flower suits aside, you guys really need to get off the stage."

So as a result of the aforementioned artists associating the word prog with words like boring, cheesy, long, pretentious, dickless, and...well...Phil Collins, nowadays you have bands like Sigur Ros and their fans trying to avoid the prog label. But how can these boys really say that they aren't progressive? Come on; they sings in a made up gibberish language, they put out that parenthesis ablum that didn't have any titles, and the lead guy plays his guitar with a bow as if he were the first one to do it (Jimmy Page will sick the devil on you!). Call me cooky-cocked, but they sounds pretty proggy to me.


Sigur Ros: Start laughing quietly, and then get louder and louder...

What we need to do is stop thinking that prog is a bad thing. I mean, yes, it can be all of those mean words I mentioned earlier - in fact, if any band lives up to that stereotype, I'd have to point to the pictured band above - but if done right, it can be cool, fun, and downright exiting. Take the new Mars Volta album, which sounds like it was built from a number of ideas regarding the structure, lyrical style, production and execution of modern hard rock. The album carries many staples of prog rock: 12 minute songs, long instrumental breaks, layered sounds and challenging compositions. It all works, though, because the band doesn't sacrifice listenability to attain some far-reaching concept. It's an epic, innovative record that still has room for hot guitar solos.

It's okay to be prog. Kahimi Karie made her album Journey to the Center of Me with 70s prog bands in mind, and the product is a strange, fun little album. Prog doesn't have to be lofty and serious. Need I remind you how prograssive The Beatles were in the late 60s? What about Roxy Music, or Berlin-era Bowie? Or, once again, I could bring up my beloved Shena Ringo, who I see as a much more varied and fun neo-prog act than, say, Radiohead.

Perhaps we need a new word to seperate progressive-thinking musicians from the prog-ogres of yesteryear. Something funner, like proog. Hell, I will even be the first to say that I am a proog-rocker. And if anyone cares to join me in my new genre, put on a flower suit and come on over.

*In all fairness, Peter Gabriel did produce some interesting music. His three self-titled albums feature some beautiful, eerie songs that sound more industrial than like the contemporary pop stuff he went on to make. But that's right; nobody cares.
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a brief follow up...

I just thought this should be addressed:










Um, the demon is on the right. Still, I think Alexio should be given some consideration for candidacy of the ARE Weapons cover face.
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Brettism (pt. 1?)

You may remember, a while back, me mentioning a conversation and a posting photograph dealing with the term Brettism, a kind of unwritten philosophy based on the beliefs and ideals of Brett. Brettist Manifesto, and all that. It occured to me that this idea is not as ludicrous (or perhaps even more so) as we first imagined; when I thought about it, I do have a kind of personal philosophy and aesthetic system. And while I may never actually write a manifesto or start a revolution, I would like to dedicate this day to touching on various Brettist things, ideas and people, like Takashi Murakami did in his book about Superflat; in other words, doing what I normally do on this blog.


Murakami himself - Duh. I figured I can't mention him in the intro and leave him off the list. I've said enough about this artist on my blog already, but let be quote myself just to remind you why he is Brettist:
"While the otaku's world of anime and manga exists as an extension of popular culture in Japan, Murakami recognizes that it is one artistic style that is distinctly Japanese. Relating the formal elements to the art of the Edo period, which is universally recognized as a product of Japan, he is placing anime art on a pedestal as the country's new avant-garde, to be respected for its roots in modern culture as well as traditional art. Murakami is bringing popular entertainment and cult phenomena into the context of high art, and in true super flat fashion, there is perfect harmony."

Momus, 97-98 - The first Momus songs I ever heard were MC Escher and What Are You Wearing?, both from his 1998 album The Little Red Songbook. I was immediately hooked. These songs were tres Brett - conceptual, strange, catchy, and fun. His album prior to that, Ping Pong, provides more of the same and is probably one of the best pop albums of the 90s. Momus is still quite Brett these days, but it was during the late 90s that he reached his peak in cult artistry and sense of humor.

Ren & Stimpy - Perhaps the greatest TV show I've ever seen, but I don't expect everybody to appreciate it; only the Brettists can truly see the fuckin genius of this cartoon. This show didn't even try to set up a basic story or setting, becase absurdity takes priority over narrative. Ren and Stimpy seem to live in a different setting from one episode to the next, such as inside a dead cow or beneath a tree stump in Hollywood, Yugoslavia. I remember a camping episode where the funniest joke is when Ren says "twigs? ...What are twigs?" Now that's genius.

Casetteplaya - I just recently came across this fashion designer, but I like her stuff. I like it enough to call it Brettist. In a press release, she describes her new line as "cartoon couture and subverted sportswear for club kids, dandies, rappers, kappa slappers, emcees, playas, outsiders, sluts and geeks." I don' t know if I am any of those, but I think her neon-trash-psychedeliglam outfits are pretty boss. If I ruled the world, people would dress like this. Scary, I know.

The Monkey Hour - My homeboys Andy and Tristan used to make their own TV show, which didn't involve any monkeys an never had an episode reaching an hour. But these two boys were tapping into a new kind of humor that mankind wasn't ready for (this is apparent simply by the fact that 1 out of every 8 people who saw the show thought it was funny). There were no jokes to speak of, just bizarre phrases and situations, such as "give me motion" and the reading of a cookie. This show examplifies the Brettist ideal of the humorously confusing.

Sam - Sam is smart, multi-racial, attractive, witty, from Hawaii, and a psychology major. Girls like that have a special place in Brettism.



Yellow Submarine - It's a movie with a bunch of awesome, colorful, mind-bending imagery, and some great Beatles tunes. It doesn't have to make much sense or preach a deep message; just watching this movie is an experience. A good experience. A Brett experience.

Shena Ringo - Never mind that she's a genre-sampling, postmodern prog-popstar. Never mind that she's stylish and pretty. She's an automatic Brettist because of her electric mole, baby.



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Street Gangs and Exorcisms.

Recently I decided it was time to get to the bottom of an age-old mystery, a question that has daunted man for years: who the hell is on the cover of the ARE Weapons album?

For those of you who aren't in the know, ARE Weapons is a psuedo-art band who make electro-punk songs about New York sleaze and street gangs. I joke that I am the only one who bought their album; while all those pretentious Pitchfork and NME reviewers didn't get the joke or the funk, I really dug these guys for being both campy and rad at the same time.

But since buying the CD my brother and I have been preplexed by the cover image of a scary/badass face, simply because we kept seeing it pop up in other places - such as that game Manhunt and a preview for that new Exorcist movie. I finally decided to do some detective work with my friend The Internet.

There are no sites that reveal the origin of the super badass cover image, so I thought I would follow the lead of the Exorcist preview. Now, I have never even seen the damn movie, but I remember when it was re-released in theaters and everyone was talking about the hidden subliminal demon faces. It turns out that the faces (not Rod Stewart) were not new to the re-released version, but existed in the original 1973 release. They were simply made more clear for the new version. But none of that is relevant; what matters was that I needed to see these faces.

Stangely enough, for causing such a big hubbub, these subliminal faces are virtually nowhere to be seen on the web. So after a lot of review-reading and image searches, and many combinations of words like "exorcist" and "demon" and "hidden face" and "the goddam hidden demon face in the exorcist," I at last came across two screen shots.

The cover...
...and The Exorcist demons.

So there you have it. Of course, this leads to the question of 'what the hell does demonic posession have to do with songs about street gangs and the Bad News Bears?' But at least now if anyone else is searching the web for the answer to the badass face mystery, they can just come to the Flying Wheel. New York Muscle.
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In a Past Life...



...I was an underappreciated glam rocker. I guess it's not too surprising.
It turns out I starred in the musical Oliver! with Steve Marriot, and at the age of 18 I was discovered by former Rolling Stones manager Andrew Loog Oldham. We put together an album that wasn't half-bad, but unfortunately no one bothered to listen and I drifted into obscurity.
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Some links, and my revival.

The other night my roommate Octavio had the idea of starting a website where people could write about dreams they've had and put them on the web. I told him that it would be easy (and free) to just start up a blog and let people email their dreams to us, and we'd put 'em up. And thus, writeyourdreams.blogspot.com was created. I even wrote the little description, which turned out to not be so little, and almost sounds like a drunken rant when you consider I had consumed a bunch of vodka before writing it. Anyway, if you think the idea of an all-dream blog is a good one, feel free to send in your dreams and Octavio will publish them.

Another fun link I have is this picture. It was taken at a Stairway Denied show a couple weeks ago, and if you look in the middle you can see Jose and I getting the Led out. I am applauding, so it looks like I'm about to pound somebody in front of me. Jose can be seen right past my left arm.

I need to post more. During these last couple terms I tended to neglect my little blog due to crippling work loads and general lack of motivation to do anything. I need to get back on the ball, if for no other reason than the cathartic, therapy aspect of blogging. I must continue to "build up a personal mythology, useless for all practical purposes and yet obscurely charismatic." Recently Dennis presented me with a...um...special version of Acid Pro 5.0, so I'll try to make some more music to put up. I think I will offer some more mp3s on my music page before it disappears forever, and then hopefully I will have another website to take its place. I decided Synestheseus is finished. I even made a little working-cover for it, using a doodle from some class notes.

Now I'm all itchin' to make new stuff, different stuff. The Synestheseus period is over, and the results of that musical expedition can be heard on the CD (minus 2 songs that never got finished, but plus 2 songs that weren't originally planned for release). I'm thinking now Caws Pobi will draw more from the real world than from the psychedelic world he's been inhabiting. Thinking more about folky songs, acoustic songs. Not singer-songwriter, mind you. Something noisier, more skewed. Songer-singwaiter, I call it.

There's also the band I'm in, The Taste. Have you heard? We have a show lined up. August 31, we will be playing at the Ash Street Saloon in Portland, with Speaker Rhodes and some band called Systol. Apparently it's $4. Pretty cool, says I. My role in the band, for those of you who don't know, is the drum operator. I hit things rhythmically. I don't write any of the songs, not yet anyway; this is Chad's ship, and I let him wear the captain's hat.

Anyhoo, more stuffs later.
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Da Vinci Days and the blue horizon.



Da Vinci Days is a summer festival that goes on in Corvallis, during which all the crazies and neo-hippies present their art, which includes these big eccentric pole things. Andy and I observed some of the works, and the impact can be seen on our faces.



Downtown is American Dream Pizza, with a bar in the back called the Crow Bar. When the weather is nice, which has been pretty much every day, one can ascend to the roof to eat and drink in the sun.


Last week a bunch of toilets showed up on the doorstep of the church across the street from my apartment. I just couldn't resist the juxtaposition of the divine and the personal-utility.
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Working class hero is something to be.

I'm not dead yet.
I'm rather low on money, as in I barely have enought to pay for my living space and utilities for another month. If I don't have money, I must return to Lebanon, back to the empty streets, the surly teenagers, the God-fearing old-folks, the Wal-Mart loving imbeciles, and the roaming dogs. I fear what would become of me in Lebanon, where my world is limited to my house and back yard.

It would be great if all the people I know just came into my living room and started dumping baskets of money on my table, and then Chad would come in dressed like a marine and say "a toast to my brother Breet, the richest man in town," and then Joanie would start playing piano. But that's probably not going to happen. So I've been trying to find work here in Corvallis, and I suppose it goes without saying that trying to find work is pretty miserable. You really want something even though you don't want it at all, but you need to survive so you seek it anyway. Welcome to the rest of your life!! It doesn't help that Corvallis is rather dry on jobs. I like how every department at OSU seems to offer some kind of employment except the art department. I am your creation, you bastards! Use me for something!! Okay. I'll stop.

Gee, I'm trying to think if there is any other news You know, good news. ...Hm. Well, in that case I'll just post some pictures. I think of something interesting to write about later.
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Days of good! Days of Spkhjdheueeg!

The first day of good was Andyroid's 22nd birthday! He's done it 22 times around the world. He came buy yesterday and we walked among the phallic sculptures at Da Vinci Days. I'll post those pics as soon as I get them uploaded. For now, here is an internet gift:

It's as fun as it looks!

The other day of good was Tristan and Mary's floopin' wedding! Those crazy kids tied the knot today. Got hitched. Walked around the fire. Took the plunge. Baked the cake. Hit the homerun. Signed the treaty. Logged the forest. Made dinner. Gave the plastic dog his plastic bone!

Congratulations, you pretty things!
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Another Green Whirl

"It was all or nothing. I would embrace my unemployability. I would add to the sum total of mystery in the world. I would build up a personal mythology, useless for all practical purposes and yet obscurely charismatic. My work and my life would offer succour to a tiny band of troubled souls who would, for reasons known only to themselves, seek me out. I would become a minor Greek god or I would die in the attempt, with the sound of the world's mocking laughter ringing in my ears as I plummeted like Icarus to the rocky sea below."

Today was the last day of my last art class. All I have now is to complete my online psychology course. Then my college experience is over.

I'm trying not to let it hit me. I don't feel nearly ready enough to go from something to nothing, which is probably behind my lapses into depression over these recent months. But I'm keeping my chin up. In this post-graduation pre-diploma period, I want to link you to Momus's 2002 essay Another Green World. I've linked to it before, long ago, but I feel that now it holds some kind of relevance.

In other news, my music making has reached a standstill due to technical difficulties in my bedroom studio. Sure, I can still record to some extent, but the last two songs I wanted to complete for Synestheseus have been put on indefinite hold. They may just have to go into storage for a while, and someday in the future they will see the light of day. In the meantime I just want to put a lid on this album and move on to other concepts.

Anyhoo, more stuff later. Holla.
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fountains and hair: photos, pt. 2

As I promised, here are some more photos of recent happenings.


Andy came up and posed on my couch.


Brett's hair changes color in the sunshine.



The fourth.



The Warriors take on Eugene.

In other news, I have been downloading some tunes with my new high-speed internet. Here are some recommendations from my playlist:
Crimes - Blood Brothers
Singapore - Tom Waits
Middle of Nowhere - Hot Hot Heat
The Prettiest Star - David Bowie
I've Just Destroyed the World - Willie Nelson (he's gone reggae!)
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