A Blog Called Nowhere

Mrs.Cub and I spent the weekend there with the Hort family, lovely weekend except for an awkward moment when Susan Hort caught Mrs.Cub toking a spliff in the bathroom.

Jesse Wiedel just sent me the original 45. Behold the beauty! In 1980(ish) Warm Leatherette twitched it's way over the WFMU airwaves and caused havoc in my little orange bedroom in the suburbs of NYC, rearranging my untainted brain. Jesse you are a blessed being, thanks!

<<<< potentially humiliating blog post>>>>>
This is one of the unfinished paintings in my studio (which was LITERALLY a broiling thousand degrees today) that is crushing my soul. There are many hot dogs and sausages on the ground at the bottom of the painting and a lot of messy red and yellow paint splattered around causing havoc... I'm ok with it for the most part excepting the FRIGGEN face and hands of the referee, my goddess, why is it skin so oppressive?

Behold the faces of Dread. Eyes sparkle but do not be decieved, there is no soul, or maybe it's been paved over with face pancake? The studio awaits my arrival like a vacume waiting to suck up the lint ball that sits atop my melanoma riddled torso. Fred Escher delivers 4 new canvasses today. If only I could put my blog on large canvases... if only I could type my paintings, or paint from my bed. But as it stands, my studio has no computer or bed, or refridgerator or TV. It is a jail cell. Who ever said art is either plagerism or revolution was a hard-ass, still, heres hoping for revolution today.

here are some pics...

Jealous acquaintances are now requesting that I turn A Blog Called Nowhere into a news blog, (as if thats not what I'm already doing here, but I wont split hairs with you people), so being a mature member of the media who accepts criticism no matter how inane, I have summoned my animal spirit who has sent inspiration via flying saucer, and now I would like to introduce a NEW column!!!;

Great/ UpForDebate/Defribrillate
Great/UpForDebate/Difribrillate
Great/UpForDebate/Difribrillate

Mrs. Cub and I are off to the Cape. We'll be cold-chillin with my peeps on an island off Welfleet called Ragged Clam Isle. I would like to bring the computer but Mrs.Cub says no and is being a real hard ass about it. Back next week.

Elite armys of clone vocalists have been flown into Iraq to act as intern goverment workers. Some say this is yet another significant misstep in the administration's strategy, others like myself applaude this idea. A Blog Called Nowhere acknowledges the obvious drawbacks and the possible complications that roving gangs of competing Boy Bands may present, but as Ron Weasley of the Bert Bennys put it, "No one can keep the peace like these guys can"

These crazy hippy kids sing a song called Auntie Aviator, one of the most beautiful songs I think I've ever heard. I got it on a fan-frigin-tastic compilation called The Trip by Saint Etienne on Family Recordings UK. Bands like the Sandpipers, The Poppy Family, Mandy More, obscure 60's psychadelic music, Saint Etienne pick 2 CD's worth of choice nuggets. Part two is so genius I think my head is going to explode.

I thought I'd take a stab at a lil' art show. I wish my pictures were bigger...

I've got some extra time on my hands this summer and I was thinking, hey, Tuva is promoting tourism, can I get involved? Against the rugged landscape of western Siberia, the woeful and meaninless sounds of throat singing fills the Tuvan market place and sinks in your mind as a keg of alcoholic cheese drink slipping into a vat of blood burgers might. Reindeers have political control of this isolated republic and enforce strong and oppressive measures against the population however they do have Stevie Nicks stamps, HELLO?!?! You can take a horse trip like these adventurous blokes. Tuva, who knew...va! .

"sporty woman" love Segways, period. Stanya and Harriet and baby Lenny joined me in Chelsea today for a quick look around the galleries. Harry rates all art between 1 and 1000. Most of what we saw landed firmly in the 300-400 range. However we all agreed the show at Feigen has many choice nuggets, and there was a brilliant photo at Monica Rowe by a couple of girls whos names I forgot, also we enjoyed Mike Kelly's stuff at Metro, oh yeah, also there is a sculpture in the back room of Pretzel I quite liked, a giant peice of green foam with gashes that have bricks stuck into them (not unlike this)... reminding me of the early days of my romance with Mrs.Cub.

Poor ol' Pete, is the tide-a-turning? Live8 was tits, according to most people except for some folks at Babyshambles.net. The Shambles got kicked off the Oasis tour, there are rumors that the band is splitting up, Pete's dealer is spreading the word that he supplied him and kate with crack for Glastonbury. according to the NME, "-come on, man! You have to at least look like your trying." The Fuck Forever single release has been pushed back to August 8th, I read a hilarious rumor he was thinking of re-naming the band "The Pete". Art Rocker on Glastonbury, "There's a thin line between being endearingly shambolic and sounding like you can't actually play and the `Shambles tread it with all the precision of an elephant on an absinthe bender." Just as I'll always wear my Darrel Strawberry jersey to Yankee games, I'll stick by Pete till the end. He is a genius song writer, all the best Libs songs are songs he wrote. I heart beautiful pathetic messes.

It's come to my attention that Jesus's middle name is Heather. I've got this on pretty good authority from a Christian. Now, come close to the screen and stare at this picture to the right for 30 seconds and then quickly quickly stare at a blank wall and blink a lot ...
You with me on this? Where exactly are we?

Like many of todays top rated artists, I too have lived in Elizaville NY. Along with the inimitable Barbara Ess (who is being molested by wild turkeys as we "speak") Polly Alpfelbaum and the unreasonably tallented painter, Susanne Mcclelland also be cold chill'n in E-ville. Meanwhile the tedium of hot concrete, metal, tar, bloated wankers filling up new hotels -which are popping up all over the LES like 18 story glass and steel warts, and partying like its nineteen ninety-fricken-nine, also doing this in the apartment directy below me until 5:00AM is more then I can bare. I will be spending the remainder of the summer here. I'll have my cell phone with but please don't call unless it's truely necessary.

The Magic Numbers
The Cribs
Do Me Bad Things
Special Needs
The Longcut
The Ordinary Boys
The Rakes
9 Black Alps

Every week you gentle readers send me giant sacks of mail asking why I've stopped reviewing live shows lately. It's partly because the bands I like are in England doing all the big festivals, party cause I've got hearing loss and the ear doctor says ixnay the loud musicay.
9 Black Alps are playing the Coney Island Siren Fest on the 16th at 1:30 plus other good bands, it's outside so it wont be as loud so I'm thinking I'll be there. Also it's free.
-Thanks for the new shipment Keith

and went for a strenuous, nay, bone crushingly brutal hike yesterday. Today all the muscles are stuck in a prone position, yet was able to drag body of pain uptown to the Whitney to discuss supposed book project with the the Lords of The Book. Fully exfoliated in vat of boiling Lysol and dressed in germ free gloves, I was allowed to look at books by the likes of Robert Gober, Kiki Smith and God. Very nice, very smart books in all shapes and sizes with all manors of printing and no expense spared. I must to look at more artist books. It is a strange and rareified crevasse of the art world, and you know how I feel about cavasses.

Father of the Corn is part of a group of Psychiatrists who have an on line disscussion group. Heres a note he forwarded from one of his chat buddies about Tom Cruise. I couldn't really care less about T.C. but take much pleasure in watching him act like a jackass as he's been doing a lot lately.

Folks,

I believe this is in the realm of psychopharm. Does no one else think that Tom Cruise has become grossly hypomanic? I have been following this for a couple of weeks, because of all the talk of personality change. He has become very extroveted, perhaps hypersexual, somewhat irritable at times, his judgment seems worse, of late, but his conviction in his ideas is very high, he is more hyperactive and impulsive and his friends same he is like a different person.
What fascinating is how all his celeb friends and the Entertainment commentators say, oh that what love does, and no one seems to think it is an unnatural change. I have, teenage kids at home, so I get to see these things on TV. He was on a show that Barbara Walters has with three other women, "View" or something, and he leapt **over** the sofa three or four times. It reminds me of a teenage family friend helping my wife in her studio on a ladder. We knew he had bad ADHD, but when he casually jumped off the fifth rung of the ladder, it was just inappropriate enough to register something puzzling to me, and a week later he was hospitalized for florid mania.
This I think is the more interesting story here, and because of it, I don't think that Tom is making converts to his position, because he gets to hyper to be believable when he starts discussing it.
I cannot remember any other time we have been able to watch someone get manic (although I think he is probably BiPolar II). I think if it is true, and eventually is obvious and revealed, it will be good psychoeducation for the public who are loath to label thinks psychiatric unless, unfortunately there is violence. The lesson here to me is that for Katey Holmes, sure, he is fun because he is high, but falling in love with someone actively manic can do exactly what is happening to her, where she is just giving up her career and her opinions, and mind, to his beliefs. But so many of my seriously depressed famale patients come in a say that their husbands and occasionally family of origin are trying to get them off meds, because it is lack of will power, laziness, everyone gets depressed or some other common idea which is unexamined rubbish. Because it can't be psychiatric, and if a doctor says it, he is just part of the medical industrial complex.

Anonymous, MD
Braintree, MA

I am resting
I will awake on Tuesday
I will have dreams, some to be pleasing, others bloodcurdling.