Tom Waits' One Red Eye

Like trying to lay down a track with a jackhammer outside, a loud record label usually distracts, detracts from a piece. It's hard to look away from a bright red dot in the middle of the sky.

So I put it in the middle of his eye.

Peace.

Thanks Be

Ray Bradbury John Lennon Gandhi The Grassy Knoll Mark Twain Bernini Noguchi Mark Waldman Robert Heinlein Mr. Layton Jimmy Connors Tricky Bill Augustine Bob Marley DaVinci Warhol Rothko Novros Bob Dylan Thomas Jefferson Airplane HST Bill Murray Johnny Depp Benicio Del Toro Poe Bach Hugh McLeod Mona Brookes Ed Buttwinick Jonathan Bickart Jason Clift Kurt Cobain Van Gogh Emil Nolde Aldous Huxley Jim Morrison George Segal Franz Kline Jim Jarmusch David Lynch Tank Girl Peter Gabriel Penderecki Future Sound Of London Alan Watts Hesse Chris Guillebeau Groucho Marx Faith No More Robert Altman Homicide: Life On The Streets Get Smart Picasso Nick Drake Shannon Hoon Sam Watterson Douglas Adams The Coen Brothers John Turturro Chuck Pahalniuk Mussorgsky Glenn Gould Brad Pitt Cary Grant CSN&Y The Beatles Eminem Kafka DJ Shadow Autechre Miles Davis Trent Reznor Will Farrell The Verve Beck Gnarls Barkley Philip Glass Steve Reich Mitch Hedburg Bill Cosby George Carlin Michael&Wendy Edlen

Peace.

Where Are You, Hunter?

It's a fucking joke. "Candle in the Wind", Christ. What a twisted fuck, mocking his own death before it happens.

Better image would be the explosion of a bullet from one of his myriad of guns stretched out over the span of his years. Or the flames pissing out of a lighter fluid bottle over the distance.

Where are you, Hunter? Not you the man, the ashes smoldering around Owl Farm, but YOU, the raw, the angst-ridden, the truth, the savior of these United States of America. In earnest, YOU are ME, are WE. YOU are down there, buried below ever piling loads of shit; glossy, plasticy propanganda puked out in sound bytes and article subtitles and podcasts, whatever the fuck those are. Where are YOU!!!! WE need to dig YOU out, free YOU from Vegas, explode YOU out of a peyote button to burn down this farce.

This farce of transparency, of authenticity, of total access, of behind-the-scenes, of reality. YOU ARE ME!!! WE are Hunter. WE have to be! WE have to, individually and as the unholy mob, dig out of this shit. Media today should be US, not them, not the Fourth Estate. WE still mindlessly drone on, regurgitating their puked up tripe. Vietnam and Cambodia? Look at Afghanistan and Iraq. Fuck.

Hunter the man did indeed give up, give out. But maybe his self-martyrdom could actually serve the Hunter in US, forcing US to find him, to save him. So HE can save US! There's your fucking authentic giving. Selfless patriotism, not blind peevish sheepery. Serve truth, not people. Give to the Constitution, not the asses and elephants.

Maybe I'm not looking hard enough. Maybe it's MY fault. Of course it's MY fault. I am everybody, I AM HUNTER!!!!!

Where am I? Who the fuck are YOU?

Peace.

Storied Past

[EDIT - 7/27/09: The below contest over, I've painted Alice Cooper for Zane, the winner with this entry. I received 10 entries this time! I've posted them here with the painting of Alice.]

Brian Clark's post using me as an example suggested I look to music trivia, giving it to my audience to put you in a nostalgic mood in which you might be more inclined to buy a piece. It might work. The problem is that it wouldn't be me. My gut rejects what I find manipulative. I'd rather know about you. Stories persist, facts fade.

I know I've asked a bunch about your stories, but I'm going to make good on an idea I had before Jason died and run another contest. The rules will be the same: you somehow convey a story about your past as it relates to music, I'll pick my 10 favorites (assuming there are 10+), and then randomly choose the winner (or if there are a LOT of entries, I'll put my top 10 up for a vote by all entrants). I'm hoping to get more than a couple entries this time, but Paticus's story was so awesome last time that it was well worth it anyway.

See, that's me. I'm looking for quality. I know I ask a lot of you to read these rambles, to pay me and my art attention. But I like stories. It's one main reason why I like movies by David Lynch as much as I do.

So for the month of June, I'll accept entries in pretty much any form. The winner gets a framed piece of Vinyl Art of their choice. The top 10 will be featured in my blog sidebar. And all entrants who want one can have an oval VA sticker.

And the really REALLY cool news about this David Lynch piece will be in my newsletter, which you can get if you email me.

Peace.

Thankfully Speechless

Other than to say thanks, I really don't know how to respond to a compliment.

Brian Clark posted an article today on Copyblogger using me as an example of how the golden rule can work in marketing and social media. Then he posted this tweet:

Wow. Yeah. Wow. Um, so I don't know what to say.

Brian has over 23,000 followers. Heeeeewack, as Zonker from Doonesbury used to say.

Peace.

Jimmy Page 05/26/09