What a Fool Believes

Look at this fuckin’ guy. He’s tearing apart a song...

Mon, 23 Nov 2009 16:10:45 -0500

Look at this fuckin’ guy. He’s tearing apart a song with a solo that’s as voracious as a starving grizzly bear at a picnic and he doesn’t even care. In a cocoon of Marshall stacks, which emit a sound as powerful as a gale-force wind, his silver mane and ragged t-shirt remain perfectly still.
This must have been the same expression the Bruhathkayosaurus had during the Mesozoic Era.

Loopy Question

Mon, 23 Nov 2009 14:40:22 -0500

Is the reason that the loop pedal has become such an integral instrument in music over the past few years due to the fact that we live in this hyper-information age and for anything to remain with us it needs to be a pleasant loop that, through repetition, charmingly worms its way past all of the daily detritus to inhabit a place of permanence? Is the reason that the loop pedal has become such an integral instrument in music over the past few years due to the fact that we live in this hyper-information age and for anything to remain with us it needs to be a pleasant loop that, through repetition, charmingly worms its way past all of the daily detritus to inhabit a place of permanence? Is the reason that the loop pedal has become such an integral instrument in music over the past few years due to the fact that we live in this hyper-information age and for anything to remain with us it needs to be a pleasant loop that, through repetition, charmingly worms its way past all of the daily detritus to inhabit a place of permanence? Is the reason that the loop pedal has become such an integral instrument in music over the past few years due to the fact that we live in this hyper-information age and for anything to remain with us it needs to be a pleasant loop that, through repetition, charmingly worms its way past all of the daily detritus to inhabit a place of permanence?

What a Fool Believes on Live Wrong and Prosper - Would you allow yourself to be adopted by Sandra Bullock and live with her for four years? Note that she will conduct herself as a rich, football-crazed Southerner who pities you and teaches you "life lessons" the entire time.

Fri, 20 Nov 2009 15:19:22 -0500

What a Fool Believes on Live Wrong and Prosper - Would you allow yourself to be adopted by Sandra Bullock and live with her for four years? Note that she will conduct herself as a rich, football-crazed Southerner who pities you and teaches you "life lessons" the entire time.:

I was lucky enough to guest on this Friday’s “very special episode” of Live Wrong and Prosper. It was even more fun than my guest appearance on Law & Order: SVU in 2006 - Episode 9 of Season 8: “Choreographed” - when I got to play a manipulative choreographer, involved in a love triangle and suspected of poisoning a model. (Spoiler: My character only loved dancing and triangles, not murder.)

Thanks again to Kali for allowing me to ask a question that makes Bill Pullman wake up every night screaming in a cold sweat!

I just spent twenty minutes with Make Me Mighty. My dinner is...

Thu, 19 Nov 2009 21:09:00 -0500

I just spent twenty minutes with Make Me Mighty. My dinner is now cold, I have to rewind the movie I was watching, my grandchildren’s heads are lodged between the balusters, and a tornado has just destroyed the town but I don’t give a rat’s ass because this site is Fun with a capital Fuck Yeah!

Other Mighty Names:

Viscount Joshua Z Luftgon, The Berserker: The Face-Raking Giant

Czar Joshua Z Luftgrim, The Cyborg Ancient: Azure Genie from the Dunes of Desolace

Count Joshua Z Lufttrix, The Dragon Whisperer: Crimson Wolflord from the Craters of Darkhollow

Doctor Joshua Z Luftlor, The Master of Illusion: Human Asteroid from Beyond the Dogstar Cluster

Viceroy Joshua Z Luftios, The Legionaire: Python-Handed, Cobra-Faced Macabre Sub-Creatüre

Please refer to me thusly as one of the above.

Thanks to Doctor Alexandra Ewinghawk, The World Smith: Fiery Archfiend Liege from Whence Babies Dare not be Born and Empress Victoria Johnsongon, The Skyforger: Human Asteroid from Beyond the Dogstar Cluster for the link.

Brian Eno and The Winkies: “Baby’s on Fire (Peel...

Thu, 19 Nov 2009 15:28:01 -0500

Brian Eno and The Winkies: “Baby’s on Fire (Peel Sessions)”

The Here Come the Warm Jets version of “Baby’s on Fire” is a methodical, menacing and all-consuming scorcher by audio arsonist Brian Eno with the help of Robert Fripp whose volcanic guitar solo sprays the flame and magma that fully ignites the track.

This Peel Sessions version, recorded in 1974 with The Winkies, a pub rock band who Eno brought with him on a tour in support of Warm Jets, is a much more playful affair. Nearly all of the menace of the album version is replaced with mischief, glam and sex. During the solo, rather than imagining Eno stalking his prey, a more fitting image would be of him writhing about, much like he did a year earlier during live shows with Roxy Music, lasciviously twisting knobs to “treat” the guitar of Phil Manzanera. It’s the smoking-hot sound of Eno as the Space Vampire Art Rock Superstar, a layer of him which melted away soon after only to reveal the myriad layers (Ambient Pioneer, Visionary Producer, Oblique Strategist, etc.) beneath.

Talking Heads: “Artists Only” I’ve always...

Wed, 18 Nov 2009 11:17:56 -0500

Talking Heads: “Artists Only”

I’ve always found the line “I’m cleaning my brain” from the Talking Heads’ “Artists Only”, off of the 1978 album More Songs About Buildings and Food, to be a great metaphor for the creative process.

Creating a work of art is often like rummaging through the closets and drawers of the mind, extracting ideas and concepts. Once one has the ideas and concepts out, one has to sort through them for what’s worth using and what should be trashed.

Though I don’t know whether it was his intention or not, I’ve always taken David Byrne’s advice about the importance of brain-cleaning. Ideas, if left too long, strewn about the floor or in piles, turn into messes which can cause one to be unable to discern the junk from the treasure and thus, either everything gets trashed or one allows the mess to grow and fester, like one of those monstrously-cluttered homes on A&E’s Hoarders, driving one mad. But if one keeps the brain clean, all the ideas remain neat and ordered and one can utilize them more efficiently for aesthetic purposes.

Luxor HotelFront DeskBellhop: Let me take those bags for you,...

Tue, 17 Nov 2009 15:31:00 -0500

Luxor Hotel
Front Desk
Bellhop: Let me take those bags for you, sir.
What a Fool Believes: Ramesses the Second?
They begin to walk to the room.
Bellhop: Yes?
WaFB: You’re a bellhop?
Bellhop: Yes.
WaFB: But you’re a pharaoh!
Bellhop: Was a pharaoh. Friggin’ economy.
WaFB: Seriously? But what about all those jewels? The gold? The statues? The pyramids?
Bellhop: We sold the jewels and gold to Goldkit. That got me a couple hundred bucks to keep Anubis away from the wife and kids. The statues got repo’d and the bank foreclosed on the pyramids.
WaFB: Are you kidding? But don’t you have an army that could have stopped all of that?
Bellhop: I did but once they built that new Super Walmart outside of the Valley of the Kings they all left because Walmart actually pays their slaves.
WaFB: That’s terrible, Ramesses.
Bellhop: Tell me about it.
They reach the room.
WaFB: Say, when does your shift end?
Bellhop: Eight. Why?
WaFB: Well I’m here in Las Vegas on business and I don’t really know anyone. I heard there’s some strip club with this beautiful new dancer and thought maybe you’d care to join me?
Bellhop: Sure, alright. What’s the new girl’s name? Maybe I know if it’s worth our time or not.
WaFB: NeferTi-Ti?
Bellhop: That’s my wife!
WaFB: Oh my god!
Bellhop: I’ll kill you!
WaFB: I’m sorry, I didn’t know!
Bellhop: I’m just messing with you!
WaFB: Oh! You got me, Ozymandias!
Bellhop: Yeah, let’s go to the club.
WaFB: You sure?
Bellhop: Yeah, of course. I won’t have to pay for a lapdance!
End.

The Fall: “Wings” One of the most awesome...

Mon, 16 Nov 2009 14:00:00 -0500

The Fall: “Wings”

One of the most awesome experiences I’ve ever had was just over five years ago when my cousin and I got to see The Fall play two shows in one day. The first show was a brief evening set at the now-defunct Virgin Megastore in Union Square and the second at Northsix - now the Music Hall of Williamsburg - in Brooklyn.

The Virgin Megastore was easily the last venue I’d ever expect Mark E. Smith and his crew to play at, but they did - and for free no less. In what was normally the cafe area of the Megastore, we all waited for Mark E. to slither in. Even the band. They had all tuned up and were ready to go but there was no Smith. As we watched the rain pour down through the window behind the stage, a cab suddenly pulled up in front of the entrance and out came Mark E. Smith. With a pint in his hand. (Just kidding. I think. Sometimes I dream up scenarios involving Mark E. Smith and his daily activities and I confuse them with reality.) As soon as he got to the mic the band kicked in and performed a thundering set which included the juggernaut that is “Blindness”.

Later that night the band played a show at Northsix. This show required tickets and we did not have any. However, when we knew the show to be going on, we decided to go over there. When we arrived we walked right into the venue and watched the show. Literally. There was no one around the ticketing area. No guards in front of the door. Nothing. We just walked in and watched roughly half of their set, which included, again, “Blindness”. It was incredible.

Now the only thing that could have made the night even better is if we could have hung out with the band afterwards at a pub much like the one featured in this video for “Wings”. We’d drink pints and listen to Mark E. Smith go on venomous tirades about politics, football and the music scene, charmed by his curmudgeonly ways. Thinking we were a decent lot, he’d then ask us to join the band and we would try and play it cool despite clutching our skulls in an attempt to keep them from exploding. We’d finish the rest of the tour, grinning as he fiddled with the levels on our amps every night during the shows, and then be fired. It would be sad but how sad can one be who was a one-time member of The Fall?

Flipper: “Sex Bomb” The best parts of this video for...

Mon, 16 Nov 2009 12:33:00 -0500

Flipper: “Sex Bomb”

The best parts of this video for Flipper’s “Sex Bomb”, from 1982’s Album - Generic Flipper, are not the footage of the explosions at the Trinity Test Site, Bikini Atoll or Hollywood(?), but the footage of the mundane preparations for these explosions. Yes, of course Will Shatter’s caterwaul and the sludgy, perpetually-on-the-cusp-of-complete-shambles noise punk groove are well-suited to the shots of nuclear explosions. But the song also goes well with the footage of men on docks loading the bombs or guiding bombers on the runway, and with the footage of the old Naval officers hanging out on the bench casually watching the proceedings. These men work with nuclear weaponry after all. They cannot listen to James Taylor while handling metropolis-leveling ammunition. They need music that’s just as incendiary and powerful as those bombs. They need Flipper.

Do you need a musical duo for a birthday party,...

Fri, 13 Nov 2009 18:17:23 -0500

Do you need a musical duo for a birthday party, wedding, corporate event, singles mixer, happening, sci-fi convention, or combination food/religion festival?

Do you need the members of said duo to play an acoustic guitar and an accordion?

Do you need the duo to surf into/out of your party/event/mixer/convention/etc.?

No Problem.

Whoopi's Birthday

Fri, 13 Nov 2009 12:57:00 -0500

Whoopi Goldberg’s Home
Kitchen
What a Fool Believes enters.
What a Fool Believes: Happy Birthday Whoopi Goldberg!
Whoopi Goldberg: Who the hell are you?
WaFB: Just a man who wants to wish you Happy Birthday.
Whoopi: And how did you get into my house?
WaFB: Robin Williams let me in.
Whoopi: Robin Williams?!
WaFB: Oh shit. Was that a surprise?
Whoopi: We gotta go. Now.
Robin Williams: (From another room.) Ohhhh Whoooopiiiii??? It’syourbirthdayandI’mcomingforyaorshouldIsayI’lltumbleforyaboygeorge?morelikegirlgeorgewuzzawuzzawuzzaAHWHOOGA!gjqpqhpiopqjifpiajviopfjiop!!!
Whoopi grabs the hand of What a Fool Believes. Flash of light.
End Scene.

Desert
Flash of light. What a Fool Believes enters.
A golden lamp lies in the sand.
What a Fool Believes looks around the desert.
WaFB: Whoopi? Whoopi? Where are you?
The lamp begins to shake. What a Fool Believes steps back from it. A cloud bursts forth from the lamp.
WaFB: AHHHHHH!!! AHHHHHHH!!!
Whoopi Goldberg emerges from the lamp.

WaFB: AHHHHHH!!! HELLLLP!!! AHHHHH!!!
Whoopi: Stop screamin’! It’s me, Whoopi.
WaFB: Oh my god, Whoopi! I thought you were Shaquille O’Neal and I had been transported to the film “Kazaam”.
Whoopi: I wish…
WaFB: Wait! You’re a genie?
Whoopi: You ever seen “Sister Act” and “Sister Act 2”?
WaFB: Yes.
Whoopi: Well how would you describe those two films?
WaFB: Pure magic.
Whoopi: There ya go.
WaFB: Cooooool.
Whoopi: Grab my hand, hon. I’ll get us out of here. I was too freaked by Williams to correctly gauge my trajectory.
What a Fool Believes looks sad and doesn’t offer his hand.
Whoopi: What’s wrong?
WaFB: I wanted to do something special for your birthday but you’re a genie. What can I do for someone who has magical powers?
Whoopi: I could think of something.
Whoopi offers her hand again.
WaFB: Really?
Whoopi: Oh yeah. C’mon.
What a Fool Believes smiles and takes her hand. Flash of light.
End Scene.

The Ritz Carlton
Bathroom
Flash of light. What a Fool Believes enters.
What a Fool Believes looks around the hotel bathroom.
WaFB: Whoopi?
A splash from the bathtub.
Whoopi Goldberg emerges from the bathtub.

Whoopi: AARRRRRR!!!
WaFB: AHHHHH!!! AHHHHH!!!
Whoopi: Hahaha!
WaFB: AHHHHH!!! AHHHHH!!!
Whoopi: Ok, ok! It’s me, Whoopi. You’re a damn baby.
WaFB: Oh! Whoopi! I thought you were Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman”.
Whoopi: What the hell’s scary about that?
WaFB: That was the scene when she ate Richard Gere with her monster mouth - in the bathtub.
Whoopi: I don’t know what movie you’re talkin’ about but it ain’t “Pretty Woman”.
WaFB: I’ve got a Director’s Cut.
Whoopi: Oh. Anyway. You wanted to do something special for me for my birthday, right?
WaFB: Oh boy! Pleasepleaseplease!
Whoopi: Well?
WaFB: Bathe you?! HOORAY!!!
What a Fool Believes grabs a wash cloth and begins to bathe Whoopi.
WaFB: Happy Birthday Whoopi.
Whoopi: Thanks…whatever your name is. Don’t forget my feet.
End.

David Lynch: Premonitions Following An Evil Deed It’s...

Thu, 12 Nov 2009 18:24:00 -0500

David Lynch: Premonitions Following An Evil Deed

It’s truly amazing that with only 52 seconds, no synchronized sound and only three takes, Lynch, for the 1995 short collection, Lumière and Company, honoring the Lumière Brothers and their cinématographe camera, could still create a story that is so menacing, so beautiful and so epic. It’s unfortunate that the rest of the film’s shorts, by excellent directors such as Peter Greenaway, Michael Haneke, Spike Lee, Wim Wenders and Zhang Yimou, were entirely forgettable. Though the 52 second film provided by Lynch - which becomes burned in your mind like the best nightmares - is completely worth suffering through the rest of the shorts, thanks to the Internet, you no longer have to.

The Flaming Lips: “Your Bats” I had been alone out...

Wed, 11 Nov 2009 12:21:48 -0500

The Flaming Lips: “Your Bats”

I had been alone out there. For how long I did not know. It was dusk. The clouds growled and then flickered like dying light bulbs.
From behind a crop of cacti a man emerged. He was elegantly disheveled in a khaki-colored suit, its buttons gold, with a pink pinstriped shirt. His hair was silver-streaked and his eyes glowed fervidly. He seemed a hallucination. My weary mind had concocted this modern day Moses to lead me away from here.
His hand rose just as a bolt of lightning cracked the sky. In the electric blue flash I saw that there was a message written upon his palm.
YOU
Another bolt struck followed by a crash of thunder. Its violent tremors knocked me down onto the still warm sand. Bats, awoken by the rumblings, appeared in a black nebulous mass, screeching and swirling above me.
The dusk quickly turned to night. The electrical storm raged and the swarm of bats, swelling as it flew side-to-side, seemed to be slowly lowering itself upon me like a pendulum. Sweat stung my eyes. I felt certain that I was going to die out there. Ripped to pieces by the ravenous bats, electrocuted by the malevolent firebolts or enveloped by the pitiless sands. And then there was the man. He stood before the cacti, his hand still raised.
YOU
The message pulsated on his palm. I looked from his hand to his face. He smiled. In an instant the dread that was about to consume me was shattered by the pure optimism in the man’s expression. Though the storm, sands and bats were undeterred, biding their time, the man seemed to be protected from it all as if in a bubble. His hand beckoned.
YOU
I got up.

I Had a Bonanza for Breakfast: The Saga of the Mercurial Quacksalver Walt A. Bouillabaise - Episode 83

Wed, 11 Nov 2009 10:26:30 -0500

I Had a Bonanza for Breakfast: The Saga of the Mercurial Quacksalver Walt A. Bouillabaise - Episode 83:

Episode 83: Loose in the Supermarket

Episode 37: Take Me to Heaven

magicmolly: Estimable in intention and execution A Department...

Tue, 10 Nov 2009 13:53:00 -0500

magicmolly:

Estimable in intention and execution

A Department Store

What a Fool Believes, folded sweater in hand, is next in a long line - which curls around clothing racks and mannequins on display - for the check-out registers. He smiles beatifically while looking at his surroundings.
Cashier: Next in line.
What a Fool Believes moves to the register.
What a Fool Believes: Hello.
The Cashier tries to scan the price tag on the sweater.
What a Fool Believes: Very busy today.
Cashier: (Trying to scan.) Uh-huh.
What a Fool Believes: You’d think there was a forty percent off sale or something.
Cashier: …There is a forty percent off sale.
What a Fool Believes: Too bad there isn’t a one hundred percent off sale, am I right?
Cashier: …
After several attempts the tag is scanned. A low and long beep is heard. The Cashier looks at the register screen with confusion.
Cashier: Manager!
What a Fool Believes: Is something the matter?
The Cashier, now a few feet away from the register, chews gum and stares off into space with arms crossed.
The Manager enters.
Manager: (To What a Fool Believes.) Hello.
The Manager looks at the screen and becomes worried. The Manager looks at the sweater, black with white spots of various size, and then puts it back down on the counter.
Manager: Uh, I’m sorry, sir. Just one moment, please. Gypsy!
What a Fool Believes: Excuse me? ‘Gypsy’?
Manager: If you’d just step off to the side, sir, we can further assist you.
What a Fool Believes and the Manager walk over to the end of the registers.
The Gypsy enters trailed by a cloud of magenta-colored smoke.
Gypsy: Hello.
What a Fool Believes: Whoa. Hi. I just want to buy this sweater. I’m not entirely sure why that’s caused such a big fuss. (Under his breath.) Or why a gypsy is in charge of this place. (Normal volume.) It was over on the discount rack. Is it not on sale?
The Gypsy nods to the Manager and the Manager exits.
Gypsy: Are you sure you want to purchase this sweater, sir?
What a Fool Believes: Yes. Yes, of course. It’s black with white spots of different sizes. I’d be crazy not to buy it. Plus it fits great. You should see my forearms in it they—-
Gypsy: You may not want to purchase the sweater after I tell you something about it.
What a Fool Believes: Uh, ok.
Gypsy: There is another sweater in this world, made by the same designer. That designer is Lou Cipher.
The Gypsy raises her eyebrows waiting for a reaction.
What a Fool Believes: Not ringing any bells.
Gypsy: Really? Lou Cipher?
What a Fool Believes: Nope.
Gypsy: I’ll say it really fast. Lou Cipher.
What a Fool Believes: I have no idea what you’re doing.
Gypsy: (Sighs.) Fine. Listen. The other sweater is white with black spots of various sizes. It is the antithesis of this sweater.
What a Fool Believes: That’s neat. I guess. Why does that matter?
Gypsy: Because the man who owns the other sweater will seek out the purchaser of this sweater and—-
What a Fool Believes: —-Coordinate when we wear them? So we can skip down the street arm-in-arm whistling a joyful tune?
Gypsy: No. So he can murder you.
The Gypsy raises her eyebrows waiting for a reaction.
What a Fool Believes: What?
Gypsy: Yes, the other sweater, once it becomes aware that its twin has risen again, will possess the older gentlemen who owns it and kill you.
What a Fool Believes: The sweater will possess a man?
Gypsy: Yes.
What a Fool Believes: And that man will try to kill me?
Gypsy: Yes.
What a Fool Believes: But he’s old?
Gypsy: Yes.
What a Fool Believes: How old?
Gypsy: Sixties?
What a Fool Believes: So I could take him?
Gypsy: I don’t think you understand…
What a Fool Believes: Here’s my credit card. I want this sweater. Fuck that old man. My sweater and I will be ready. Let me put it on and show you my forearms. That sweater-possessed old man will tremble and then fill his Depends with his cowardly urine!
End.

"Who claims Truth, Truth abandons. History is hir’d, or coerc’d, only in Interests that..."

Tue, 10 Nov 2009 10:39:00 -0500

“Who claims Truth, Truth abandons. History is hir’d, or coerc’d, only in Interests that must ever prove base. She is too innocent, to be left within the reach of anyone in Power,—who need but touch her, and all her Credit is in the instant vanish’d, as if it had never been. She needs rather to be tended lovingly and honorably by fabulists and counterfeiters, Ballad-Mongers and Cranks of ev’ry Radius, Masters of Disguise to provide her the Costume, Toilette, and Bearing, and Speech nimble enough to keep her beyond the Desires, or even the Curiosity, of Government.”

- Thomas Pynchon: Mason & Dixon

Historical fiction à la Pynchon has Benjamin Franklin presenting electrical experiments like a dark wizard and having threesomes with prostitutes, George Washington as a pothead and dealer, evolutionary marvels in the Age of Reason like ‘the Learnèd English Dog’ and ‘Mechanickal Duck’, and, of course, the titular ‘twins’, the attender of hangings, Charles Mason, and, the man responsible for bringing pizza to England and America, Jeremiah Dixon.
Truth in the loving hands of one of our greatest fabulists.

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Sun, 08 Nov 2009 13:21:00 -0500

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Sun, 08 Nov 2009 13:20:22 -0500

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Sun, 08 Nov 2009 13:19:49 -0500

Pavement Best-Of on the Way?

Fri, 06 Nov 2009 10:58:00 -0500

Pavement Best-Of on the Way?:

There are two rock and roll bands, who’ve released four or more albums - which I believe is the amount that would warrant consideration - that I can say without a doubt a Best of compilation is completely unnecessary and just plain wrong. Those bands are the Velvet Underground and Pavement.
You know what Pavement’s Greatest Hits are?
Everything.
Every work in their oeuvre is essential. You need all five of their studio albums, the early EPs collection Westing (By Musket & Sextant), and every other EP, every B-side, every Peel Session, every Session track, every Compilation track, etc., etc.
Everything.
Now I realize the argument for a Best of would be, ‘What about a primer for new fans? Something to get them interested in the band?’
To that I say how about Slanted and Enchanted? How about Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain? How about you just save up a bunch of money and buy everything? If someone has a modicum of interest, they should listen to a song online and if they like it, just get it all. It’s fuckin’ Pavement.

I was trying to think about what other bands - with the four albums or more rule - a Best of would be unnecessary/wrong. I didn’t come up with a whole lot. The Beatles’ early albums had tracks that were too similar to other songs they did or bands of that time. The Stones have been around for so damned long and made so many albums - most past Tattoo You having little more than a song or two to offer and their early albums, like the Beatles, have the band finding their way and making some missteps. Radiohead has Pablo Honey which, other than “Creep”, isn’t good. The Stooges, had they released the songs they had been working on post-Raw Power could have been included - I am pretending The Weirdness does not exist. The Talking Heads past Speaking in Tongues is quite spotty.
Another I came up with was the Pixies. Come On Pilgrim, Surfer Rosa, Doolittle, Bossanova, Trompe le Monde? You should have all of those.

Who am I missing?