Settler words&music in S'ólh Téméxw, (leanpub.com/upsun) living where privilege meets precarity in MST country. she/her/they———– Novels: Midnite Moving Co., Upsun; Sweep Off Those Waves coming soon, Hair Sinister after that. —Restore All Indigenous Lands!
It wasn’t Jeff’s turn, but he did half the shovelling and all the salting.
Very much enjoying Resident Alien, yet another show based on a comic book, starring Alan Tudyk and Sara Tomko.
I am feeling a little better today. Wrote some on The Three of Us. Off for a walk at Oakalla with Paul.
Bih-bah project continues. Advent calendar of Christmas carol parodies continues (the time to work on Christmas stuff is February – I will post them during Advent this year, and some of them are quite funny, so I hope you enjoy them – I did We Three Kings and I saw Three Ships this morning.) I have written about 350 words on Best Roommate since last report. I am working on a song with no name, but it’s about Vancouver, and the land ack is built into it, so I’m happy with it, also it’s on the ukelele and I hadn’t composed anything on the uke in ages, so that was good. I’m particularly liking the accompaniment, it’s not exactly unique but it’s distinctive.
I am possibly working on some more kidney grit, so no black tea for me for a while, and I should probbly lay off the almonds, but that frenz is la super hard to do when your buddy heaves two kilos of organic Australian almonds (plump, unblemished, like a lifestyle ad) onto your front steps thank you TOM!
KAOSSILATOR NOTES GAte 49, S61, 90 bpm, turn the volume up all the way, 5ths, C_; hold left thumb in bottom left corner until the gate arpeggiator drops tick tick tick percussion like noises into the mix and then slide your right index finger slowly back and forth along the bottom. Occasionally deke upwards for an other worldly yipping noise. At the end let go for the fade. Gives a very atmospheric creeping through a darkened building/alley/tunnel feel.
Waiting for a CT scan to find out if I really do have brain damage and how bad it is…. YUMMY. Not recommended.
“G-d made me trans for the same reason he made grapes but not wine and wheat but not bread. So that man may participate in the act of creation” -some wise Jewish trans person whose name I don’t remember – @zfreinstatler on twitter this morning
the endearing fascist is everywhere
o,O
the words are a smear of nice, a pretend of nice, a klieg light of nice that burns everything
that’s good and makes it nice, nice, nice
everything orderly
this is a map and these are the lines
and inside these lines we are nice
and I with disrumption have come
have come, and ev-e-ry niceness is glum, was glum.
Tripulations and farkakte derivations of bad things
are apiece with nice,
bakelite
worked
into
one of van Meegeren’s canvases
hanging in a steady machine tic of nice
nice
nice
(THIS IS A CULTURAL TREASURE)
but if you test it, it is not
so apt is my example
Nice is a mill that grinds little Black girls into powder
or tries, and fails to succeed in a vale of Death
just so she doesn’t forget what she’s up against
Nice is the good white girl with almost perfect teeth
who has Done Something Nice
in a perfectly recursive way,
at this point it hardly matters what ; those
people on the receiving end of nice
normally do not get
an opinion
Nice is the nun
educating Cree boys
into a nicer understanding
of their true place in the real world
It’s not for me to say which way is nicer
I already know and you don’t much care, being at the end of the poem
but as for me and the tirelessly nice and
clueless gallery of my colonial foremothers
whom I am pressed to carry now that I have grandchildren
I will choose the lands, and the people they chose
and stay out of your very nice heaven
The letter to Barry is stamped, but I hope to accompany it with at least four more letters, I’m quite behind after my weeks of inertia. Mary, gAlex, mOm and pOp are all in the queue. I like looking at a spray of fifty stamps on the kitchen wall, and every time I send a letter, it erodes away, showing that pandemic or no, I can brighten someone’s day with a few scraps of paper. hope Barry likes his, it’s almost 1500 words long, lol.
Mike is not great, but who the hell is. He gets to prepare the orientation and training documents for the people that he’s going to be training to replace him, isn’t life nommy. Learned from him that there is a global shortage of breakers? weird.
I wrote 700 words in the UPSUN universe to day on one project and I’m still having fun with the conlang – poor Dave, bent his ear off with it the other day.
I am not doing all that great, but as long as I’m writing contentment is in arm’s reach.
Off to have a social distanced visit with her this morning.
Two letters in the mail yesterday; one to Tom, one to Alex.
Managed to shake off my blues long enough to go get some food and reserved library books yesterday (Jeff gave me a lift). The sun being out did not hurt.
Time Team episode was ‘Hadrian’s Well’ which I like because experimental archaeology is always a favourite with me. (They reproduced a Roman waterworks in Roman Britain.)
Work on UPSUN and the destiel fanfic has ground to a halt. I have posted songs to the end of February and well into March (with scatterings later in the year).
mOm will be happy to hear that I FINALLY HAVE AN APPT with my doc, since the neurologist finally read the EEG this week, I don’t even have to wait that long.
Caspell Junction (new name for Planet Bachelor) remains quiet on the news front. Don’t know what new school rules for the pandemic will do. Hope Alex likes his letters.
Dave DeRoy photoshopped this. I was eating in the cafeteria at the Disco Park location of Schneider and he sextupled the size of the meatball so it looks like I’m porking down a chunk of alien viscera. NOM
warning this gets weird
Here’s a bio: Leah Feldman who worked with Nestor Makhno. He stole my rellie’s watch, he won’t get his own page even if I read that dreffle book. (History of the Makhnovist movement.) (ALSO THIS ***IS*** HIS OWN PAGE, THIS POST IS ALMOST A THOUSAND WORDS LONG AND I HARDLY MENTION LEAH FELDMAN, WHO WAS A MENSCH.)
I almost want to translate it (History of the Makhnovist movement) into internet-friendly contemporary English ’cause the translation verbs the galactic noun into a state of noun. Why am I compelled to pay attention to him? is it because he was one of John’s special favourites?
check out the turgid first three paragraphs, administered first aid by yours truly in italics.
a hunnert pages of this…. I have to finish Moloch and UPSUN’s HOTM before I even touch that as a side project, that seriously would be something I’d do in jail.
So I continued anyway…..
On the one hand, the Makhnovshchina (Mack NOV shin a) [Makhnovist Movement.] – an event of extraordinary breadth, grandeur and importance, which unfolded with exceptional force and played a colossal and extremely complicated role in the destiny of the revolution, undergoing a titanic struggle against all types of reaction, more than once saving the revolution from disaster, extremely rich in vivid and colourful episodes – has attracted widespread interest not only in Russia but also abroad.
The story of the Macknovshchina is so powerful, colourful and historically important that interest in the story is not confined to Russia. Fascists and reactionaries hate its truths, deride its outlandish tales of luck, betrayal, revolutionary fervour and derring-do, and cast doubt on its morality, as well as that of Makhnov himself, in an effort to dislodge him and it from the collective memory. That’s mostly because he kept the fucking revolution alive along with his anarchist principles and when he diverged organizationally from the soviets, they didn’t want to be beholden or get into it ideologically so he had to go — and to the horror of those who loved him he ended up drinking himself to death in exile. But we’re not going to talk about that part of his life in this book, that’s for the Netflix series. NOW THEN, IS THAT NOT BETTER AND MORE USEFUL THAN THE TWO PARAGRAPHS I COMBINED INTO ONE ??? (ie the foregoing paragraph and this next one, which is clunkier than a 30 year old Corolla.)
The Makhnovshchina has given rise to the most diverse feelings in reactionary as well as revolutionary circles: from feelings of fierce hatred and hostility, of astonishment, distrust and suspicion, all the way to profound sympathy and admiration. The monopolization of the revolution by the Communist Party and the “Soviet” power forced the Makhnovshchina, after long hesitation, to embark on a struggle – as bitter as its struggle against the reaction – during which it inflicted on the Party and the central power a series of palpable physical and moral blows. And finally, the personality of Makhno himself – as complex, vivid and powerful as the movement itself – has attracted general attention, arousing simple curiosity or surprise among some, witless indignation or thoughtless fright among others, implacable hatred among still others, and among some, selfless devotion.
anyway you can understand why the project has some appeal, it’s essentially a complete gloss / rewrite, but it could really be fun. It’s also fanfic in a really hilarious way. Oh, oh, oh I just had a story idea.
I posted this in early January, and on the 18th I woke up from a sound sleep with THIS in my head
TTTO Battle Hymn of the Republic
Nestor Makhno stole my great great uncle’s watch
Nestor Makhno stole my great great uncle’s watch
Nestor Makhno stole my great great uncle’s watch
He sold it to buy beer (or guns, that works too)
And they died
climbing up to see the moon
in Athens
and their life
was a goodies reel of cool
the patterns
they are not
for everyone to see
and our lives,
the red carpet,
will never see their light again
pop that bubble in the rain
and dance while you can
remember their joy
remember their name
:Sophie:
They made very entertaining bubble gum dance pop.
Not sure why but everything is taking forever to load.
11568 on “Roommate”.
@janecoaston on twitter this morning “If I sigh any harder I will break something” and what a mood that is. Between her comments about college football, her political savvy and her writing ability she is someone whose tweets have been entertaining and informative above and beyond normal tweetage. She’s Black; her restrained and informed opinions about American racism have been my friends as I keep to the path of anti-racism.
Letters to Jan G and Dave D this am, well, if I ever finish his now that the internet’s up after the 4-7 am blackout period. FINITO yes now I have to roll down the hill to the mailbox.
Today: restringing Smokey so it stays in tune on Monday, calling the EEG clinic AGAIN… this time with my care card number, and planning pre-posts for Maudlin Monday, and marking down what songs got posted on what day so I don’t forget or duplicate one. Flower roll dough is in the breadmaker. Borscht from yesterday is marinating in its own excellence in the fridge.
I need my fucking ADD medication to deal with this, but until the EEG is read I can’t make a doctor’s appointment to get them, so that’s disappearing into the fog.
We got vegan breakfast cookies on our minisupplyrun yesterday and now I’m thinking I want to make them, they’re really surprisingly good.
Trained Buster this morning. As always he’s a lot more interested in run
chase
eat
the
treat oh Give me another one! than paw claps, but I got a respectable 6 paw claps out of him this morning.
That’s a quote from Eric Frank Russell’s “WASP”.
Anyway, today:
11149 words so far on Best Roommate
Jeff cleaned 25 gigs of crap off my hard disk, so I can reinstall Finale FINALLY.
Isn’t English hilarious?
I will also try to update my OS PRAY FOR ME NOW SINNERS
I drank coffee. I POOOOOOOOOOPED and pooped again. I feel so light and free although I should probably put up a biohazard sign.
And I trained Buster, who was not having any. He has his little ways to let me know he’d prefer to run and chase treats than beg for them.
I wrote a letter to my pOp and one to Alex. There’s a little card with artwork on it in pOp’s letter, and Alex’s letter is covered in garish watercolour pencil art. Tomorrow I’ll write a letter to Mary and send some fabric from mOm’s stash along to Jan Maxwell, who already has a ton of fabric BUT DOES NOT HAVE the last little bit of sexy raygun SF fabric and will likely turn it into comfy masks in the fullness of time, whereas I won’t, likely. Although I do have a fabric project for the spring – I’m going to put a floor length door drape on my bedroom door, with black lace fabric at the bottom to let the cold air in from the air con.
Last night:
Composed three instrumentals (soundtrack style stuff) on the Kaossilator. With luck I will record them on the 1st with Anthony. One of the instrumentals is entitled: Unicorn Farts. It’s plausible….
Slept 8 hours solid. Haven’t done that in an age. No recollection of waking up until I had to pee at 4:30. Amazing how a little exercise gives me better rest, surprise surprise.
Yesterday:
Jeff dropped me off at Planet Bachelor that was (Keith is teasing me to come up with a new name, which will be some variant on “The Bachelor System” or “Bachelor Villa” or “Villa Planet” or “Larval Harpi” which is an anagram of what it says out front… yup, the house has a name. “Planet Bachelor II – The Rehoming” is also in play. We shall find out soon enough.) I helped Keith and Katie clean for a couple of hours (polishing chrome in the bathroom, taking a duster to all the cobwebs, a little bit with counters in the kitchen, throwing stuff in the trash), then mailed some letters and walked to the butcher shop and got meat and a couple of blueberry handpies for Jeff. Walking home nearly killed me. I had to stop to catch my breath three times, although I didn’t get into that heart pounding thing. (later…. Caspell Junction it is, according to K&K)
Much pedicurage, following a nice warming bath. I have to keep an eye on my left great toe, I trimmed the nail too much and I’m looking at much pain if I don’t manage how it grows out.
Recently:
Preposted 15 songs. Most are in January and February but I’ve posted well into the year when the song is associated with a particular date. I’m now up to the middle of February and so I have a little breathing room before I have to really start shaking out the oeuvre to keep up the numbers. Still have more MP3s sitting on the media drive, but now the real pressure is to record more. And more yet. I’m one tenth done. This is a bastarding huge project.
Watched Ammonite. Loved it. If you don’t like the idea of watching Saoirse Ronan and Kate Winslet make out at night in a miniscule bed while collecting and cleaning fossils during the day in Victorian costume including a magnificent rendition of full mourning, stay the hell away from this movie.
Rewatched King Arthur (Owen/Knightley version) again, after watching the King Arthur Time Team Special. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed that movie. It’s not the best historical movie ever made, but it’s so good hearted and solid and there are so many wonderful actors in it that it’s just a treat. It’s going on the ‘watch anytime’ list.
Most recent episode of the Expanse has one of the best human vs space sequences I’ve ever seen. Dominique Tipper is absolutely amazing as she battles time, vacuum, gravity, CO2, betrayal, her own physical weakness after a trauma, and the complete sabotage of her ship, in order to prevent the death of her loved ones. The sequence went on for so long I started crying along with her frustration.
Continue to feed crows in the morning if they sit in the dogwood and caw at me. 1 to 4 birds usually show up. Watched them chase off a raven yesterday. The rest of the day it’s canoodly crow couples pitching woo in the tree, it’s quite funny…
It was supposed to start snowing last night. Nada. It’s bucketing snow down now; the world’s gone quiet because it’s Sunday morning and snowing. Now, if I really loved my brother I’d get off my ass, clear the kitchen counters and make him some whole wheat flower rolls. And I’m thinking of making little pork meatballs in spaghetti sauce for hot sammiches using those rolls.
Over and over I think I haven’t done enough on a daily basis.
Yesterday I had a bath; did two loads of laundry, unloaded the dishwasher, watched some TV with Jeff, dealt with a Mailchimp issue, practiced – including working on tunes to be recorded, called the doctor about the EEG results (still no joy), recorded a song and posted it, made lunch, called Keith, called mOm, wrote a thousand words on UPSUN and called Kenney names on twitter.
I did not do anything to push forward #LandBack, or my various political hobby horses unless writing a thousand words on a book in which MST people get their chunk of the lower mainland back counts.
My mood continues good. Knowing that my people are in a better living space (Keith is sleeping better already, something I cheerfully predicted) is a blessing. This morning we’re thinking of going to ratlands takeout for breakfast.
Please be kind to yourself and others, unless they’re fascists, in which case please damage the living fuck out of their social capital.
Schadenfreude…. Jared Padalecki’s show Walker is so bad that people primed and ready to love it because of Supernatural are urinating on it from such a lofty height that the pee is cold by the time it hits.
Kitchen mats (aka Buster’s toilet paper) are in the laundry.
tried home recording THREE SONGS this morning but my accuracy is terrible and my intonation is worse, so rehearsing but no recording…. mebbe later. I have to record a version of Planets are people too – which I am wishing at this point to rewrite from top to bottamus as the scansion sucks golf balls down garden hoses.
I’m also working on The Wind Will Bear Your Name (the song is four fuckING LINES LONG and do you suppose I can find the injection point for the second line? round and round and round I go, it’s absofuckinglutely insane making.) I will get it eventually.
I well recollect the two days of bilious fury trying to get the count right for the chorus of Gelis and Nicholas, over and ber luddy over until I could do that nifty four counts three counts thing that just makes it zing rhythmically BUT I AM BACKWARD in the ways of percussion and just getting into muscle memory was a major undertaking. I feel sorry for Jeff though, if he was trapped in the john upstairs while listening to this sonic torture; there’s basically a hole in the floor between the downstairs guest room/music room and the upstairs john, so every howl, gargle, squawk and arhythmic repetition reverberates upward and dashes itself to death on the tiles.
Just got a call from Katie, where’s my wallet, possibly there. WITHOUT BEING TOLD WHAT TO DO OR OVERHEARING MORE THAN MY SIDE OF THE CONVO Jeff levitated upstairs and greeted me, as I’m talking to Katie about it, at the top of the stairs, wallet in hand. She’ll collect it after work.
I’m also working on The Seananverse. I’m sorry, but once you write the line ooo ooo how could things get worse/never ask that question in the Seananverse you’re obliged to write the rest of the song. I have settled on a key, and that the accompanying instrument is a guitar. More details as events warrant.
9711 words total so far on the best roommate chapter. (Cracks knuckles: hard stuff today. I have some tactical goals and a rough approach – full marks if you know where that quote is from.)
moving day
moving day
if you can’t pay the rent you’ll have to live out in a tent because it’s
moo
ha oo
ha oo-ving day
Katie rented the truck for today and goes to pick it up at 10 am; I’ll go over to Planet Bachelor this forenoon and help out how I can. Jeff and I are so glad we’re not moving right now it’s quite remarkable.
Here is a lovely poem, with some context.
9,189 9443 words
As we come up on the Inauguration I find myself more and more frightened. I tell myself that Trmp and his people are too stupid to manage an insurrection, but it’s really the grift that’s the point, but I’m still afraid of good people dying, and the number of people in Canada who feel the same way as the Trumpites is huge, and this is a long term problem that will not go away.
Cartoon of a donkey and an elephant. In the first frame Donkey’s placard reads UNITY and the Elephant’s F*** YOUR FEELINGS. The second frame the donkey’s placard is ACCOUNTABILITY and the elephant’s now covered in rainbows and butterflies, says UNITY. NICK ANDERSON
