Sunday, April 28, 2013

Georgeian Wisdom, The White Plague, And Then There's This

I don't always drink coffee, but when I do,
I think about George Clooney apparently. 
I'd like to talk today about some other things that I find neat. I talk a lot about the things I hate, and I will continue to do so even in this post. But every now and then it's nice to just enjoy the simple things and talk about the things that even for brief moments, bind me to a fellow human being. (Once again, check out this video of George Carlin HERE for his thoughts on this topic. Man after my own heart.) One thing I enjoy is a nice hot Raspberry Latte made by a friendly barista whose heart is as warm as the delicious beverages they create fresh from Mount Olympus. And yet, I despise every other fucking organism that congeals within my perimeter. Like these fucking kids, what the fuck are kids doing at a coffee shop? Have you seen these kids lately? Fucking morons every damn one of them. When coffee was first discovered by a sheep herder, (that's HERDER, not HOARDER,) the inevitable genesis of "The Coffee Shop" was fructified beneath the guise of European Royalty in London by 1652. But then was luckily bastardized by bohemians and artists who essentially said, "Fuck that noise, my ass gets tired too yo." They became known as "Penny Universities" because you could buy a cup of coffee for a penny and spend all day listening to enlightening conversation for free. Now you spend about 5 dollars and listen to a 9 year old complain about how his Ipad is being "retarded." And people still think that hope exists. Shame on them.
Keeping up with the Crabcore theme.
I swear I will say at least one more thing that I do like when I think of it, but while I was waiting in line for that sweet sweet beverage made from the blood of Hades and the sinew of fornicators, I got a small tickle in my nose. The tickle began to grow and I began preparing for a sneeze by having that "Oh Fuck I'm About To Sneeze Everybody" look on my face. Anyways, I covered my face and everything and then I sneezed. That was it. No big fucking deal. But every damn time I sneeze in a public place I just cringe. Not because of the perfectly normal bodily function that just happened, but because I am waiting in anticipation for the person or persons in the room who feel it necessary to abruptly intrude my bubble of alienation and say to this Maggot of darkness..."Bless you." First of all, fuck your bless you. Don't be throwing that shit on me. I didn't ask for it and I sure as fuck don't need it. Secondly, do people ever think about why they do the things they do? Even if they reflected for a moment wouldn't they see how fucking stupid it is to do that? To my knowledge, the origin of the whole "bless you" bullshit started in the 1300's during the black plague. Obviously people were ignorant  and scared because 1/3 of the world's population was busy dying horrible deaths. And people were so weak that even a simple convulsion like sneezing was enough to cause someone's heart to stop. So people began saying "bless you" every time so that their souls could go to Heaven or some shit like that. That was it. They were concerned that there friend or loved one wouldn't get into an invisible paradise if they didn't say that. Which if I'd been in their situation I probably would have said "Fuck it, can't hurt I guess. Jimmy's fucking dead mine as well bless his ass if it'll make him happy."
This is a great depiction of my usual
state of existence. 
But now it's 2013 and I am just some fuck-shitter waiting in line. I don't even see how it is polite. Because from what I am gathering is that they wish I was dead. They wish me a good death, but death all the same. So fuck that and fuck them. Conky don't play that shit. Next time an upper middle class white woman sneezes I am going to start speaking in tongues and cut my palms open and never break eye contact with her. See how she likes  it.

Geez I am really having a hard time thinking of more stuff I like. Obviously I like sitting in the dark with candles and sage but who doesn't? I will admit though I do like to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin while I am riding in a car. For about 4 minutes then I am good. I like video games obviously as you all know, RPG's especially. I really like change jars. I like to get olive jars and super glue the top onto them so I am not tempted to just take some here and there. I like to have a really big one and put anything silver or above a quarter. Then I just got a new smaller olive jar that I put all my pennies into. PENNIES IS MONEY TOO GUYS. I also enjoy fiddling with loose thread on my clothing until all that is left is tattered rags stretched upon emaciated flesh. Fuck I don't know guys, I might have to think about this some more. I had that Raspberry Latte bit and I thought for sure I could think of other shit but just got carried away with all the hate again. Fuck it, do it live I guess. I am going to try banging out a new Tristram song before work. Merp.

The riff at about 2:43 is probably my favorite thing ever. 
So there's that. 

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Crab Cornered, This Is The Nu Shit, Maggot Mason

I totally forgot about crabcore.
What a crime...
So I have been on the hunt for a decent replacement for my B.C. Warlock Bronze Series. It is a bronze because it came in 3rd at the National Shittiest Tone competition. But it did get the gold in Getting Knocked Out Of Tune and Maggot-iest Mosh Opener. So anyways I went to Guitar Center to browse through their selection of axes. To anyone who knows of this Bastille of Debasement, you will be able to relate to what I experienced. To my right was 3 employees talking about the difference between compression and the coagulation of dildo decibel dampening. To my left was Meatloaf's grandson playing metalcore rifffs like it was still 2004. "SCHUG!! SCHUG!! PINCH HARMONIC!! SCHUG!! SCHUG!! PENIS HARMONIC!! PEEN WAGGLE!!" But I did my best to cloak myself behind the satin sanctuary of my tattered Sunn o)) hoodie. I start to browse and picked up a B.C. Mockingbird and fiddled with it for a minute though I couldn't hear myself really over As I Lay Dying's greatest hits behind me. But then all fell silent, and I looked over and some force drew me away from the Maggot Master-Whip. I looked over at the used gear and found a baritone guitar. I had heard of a tremolo bass guitar before but hadn't thought about a baritone guitar before. But it was exactly what I was looking for. It's basically like if a bass and a guitar made coitus and had a Hell spawn breach the ovarian wall and it found it's way to my claws of hate. Unfortunately I did not have enough to buy it but maybe sometime soon. So please if you are reading this, don't buy that guitar. I want it. I think it'd be coo. I don't think anything is coo. So this is a big deal. Be coo. Speaking of coo, after metalcore fuck left he was replaced by "Dad Rock Guy Who Thinks He Can Shred But Fucks Up Every 5th Note But Plays Really Fucking Loud So You Would Think He Would Be Embarrassed But Doesn't Seem To Fucking Care And Thinks He Is Really Fucking Coo." Fuck that guy.

Wolves In The Throne Room is my shit. 
The reason I am interested in a guitar/gear is because my band Tristram has kicked it into 5th gear and we are hoping to be fucking shit up in a neighborhood near you. We have been working on a lot more material and I am shooting for a full length release sometime this summer. I basically have been listening to Wolves In The Throne Room and Deafheaven and have been trying to push myself to try new and interesting things. But also still maintain those simpler influences. I basically refuse to settle on this record. I am really sick of putting out mediocre material with mediocre recording quality. Go big or fuck off basically. Anyone interested in God death, hating humanity and Diablo references should keep an eye out for that shit. I forgot to mention that I was accosted by a religious guy at Guitar Center. He said he was looking for a bassist for his ministry band. If he'd been in the band Ministry I may have thought about it but it was obvious he was not. But he said, "If you're not a God Head then it might not be your gig." And I just looked at him, my eyes began to glow crimson red and he started puking blood. An employee ran over to help him but it was too late. He pulled the Guitar Center associate close and whispered, "God...*gasps* God...Hates...Us All..." Too bad he cherished ignorance and obedience above all else or he could have cast "arcane shield" when I used "magic missile"

Speaking of hating humanity, I saw a Juggalo on my way home. This is one of many sects of society that should be sterilized with airborne chemicals and hunted down in the night. This is why being a Maggot is so important. We are the only thing that stands between the Juggalo's and total Faygo annihilation. If you need to be reminded of this plague, please watch the documentary below. It is short, but reveals the darkness of the average American's psyche. Do not fool yourself, this is America. In one way or another, they will consume us all. If you are not a Maggot you do not have the tools nor the willpower to defeat them. Join us, we need all the help we can get.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Whilst I Still Use The Word "Whilst", Final Fucking Frenzy, Neat Speak

Pleather for life. Coo...
Today's topics are overall going to be about the beauty of nerdom and the sanctuary of loser living. But first I would like to talk about the dark side of the dork community. The shadowy underside of the pejorative penis if you will. I saw a stout lad a few days ago come into my work. I could tell right away that he had not seen the sun for quite sometime and usually I am bashfully drawn to liking this beast of the night for I too wear "The Sigil of the Blackened Stars." But I was wrong, this was not a fellow traveler down the road of adventure and sorrow, this was a demon spawned from the bog of eternal shit. First of all, he looked like the obese shitter cousin of Van Helsing with a Blind Guardian shirt. Which would fucking rule if his soul had not been consumed by Turdopula, Lord of Shittopia and ruler of the Seven Realms of Feces. I know I have a flare for the dramatic and love to paint pictures that were never there, but basically this guy was super rude and shitty. Which bummed me out simply because nerds should "be drinkable" to one another. If we do not stand in solidarity with each other, then all the people who turned us down will have won. All the floss used for our braces, acne wash for our mangled flesh and decades of forced celibacy would be a total waste. So this is a call to all the losers of the world, if you want to shit on the royalty of society please by all means continue doing so. But we as peasants owe it to one another to stand together against the tyranny of cool people. The pale shall inherit the Earth...

But we press on into the fray. Which speaking of being a loser and never seeing the light of day, if you have read my past few entries you know that I have been playing Final Fantasy 9 a shitload lately. I must say it has been a wondiferous escape from the bland landscape of reality and it has been warming my icy heart like a cool island song. Or is that a hot island song? Anyways, the other day I was just about to battle...OH WAIT!!! SPOILER ALERT!!!! PLOT POINTS AHEAD!!!!!!...Alright have you looked away? ...Last chance... I am about to start... Alrighty, Maggot let you know. The other day I was about to battle Beatrix the general of the armies of Alexandria and the most respected warrior in all the lands. Queene Brahne and those mean black mages had sacked Bermucia and Freya was super upset about the whole thing. Which of course you all know, but anywho the battle itself is not that difficult you just have to stay alive long enough till she gets sick of fighting you. But this battle is right at the end of disc 1, and for some reason when the ending cinematic would start the game would freeze. I was super fucking pissed because there was no way to get around it, I had to get to the next save screen in order to switch to the next disc.
My emotional state at the time.
Mind you I had been playing this PlayStation 1 game on a PlayStation 2 and so I pulled my old school PS1 system and tried to see if maybe I could get through the cinematic on that to no avail. But old school had my back. When it froze again, I quickly opened and then closed the system which miraculously made it skip the frozen screen and go directly to the save point I needed to switch the discs! I tell you what, this paragraph may have been the most boring thing for you to read, but I was on Cloud from Final Fantasy 7 I tell you what! So luckily, my adventures are able to continue and I can keep you all updated on how it goes! Fuck Yeah!

On the theme of old school technology, yesterday was Record Store Day. I have gone the past few years mostly out of support of the love of music and a simple anthropological curiosity of the community of music in general. But I also have a romanticism with vinyl records that I can't quite put my finger on. I do not have an obsession with the "hobby" if I may call it that like many people do. I don't care what pressing a record is or if Johnny McShit-Kick christened each record with the dried powdered vestiges of his grandfathers old can of Bag Balm. But there is something special about holding a record in your hands. Being able to look and admire the artwork or lyrics without having to strain your eyes or Googling it. A lot of bands nowadays also include a free digital download with each vinyl record so even if you do decide that the analog sound or process is too inconvenient then you are still free to enjoy the MP3's at your leisure. All in all I just think they are neat. I remember sitting in my dad's basement listening to "2112" by Rush and reading the lyrics on the sleeve of the record as the music was playing. Or putting on "Harvest" by Neil Young and just smelling the old musty scent of the sleeve's age and hearing that wisdom through the speakers. It's like someone whispering a message into a jar and passing it down for years and inspiring the youth to twist the lid and hear what they have been missing. So like anything, I believe people can take things too far with things like this so as I said before I have just landed on that I think they are cool. And if I ever have an option with any of my bands I would like to put out vinyl records to perpetuate this neat cool thing. Keeping the gloom of decay...alive.

Got 39 Minutes? Listen to this. I doubt you will. It's coo.

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Crow For Hire, The Goth Is Greener, Conklin Cream

I have been feeling restless lately. Each day just spills into the next one and I find myself just pushing myself through to my days off which end up whipping by primarily because I have to sleep 13 hours just to catch up from the rest of the week. Then I just repeat the whole process again. Today I basically start my work week again and I would rather dance in the rain. I wish someone kept some sort of garden in their basement and simultaneously has a very bad crow problem. So I could be a live scarecrow for a living. Does anyone grow things in their homes that they don't want to see the light of day? I am straight edge so your product would be safe with me. But I am also vegan so I like eating plants so buyer beware.

Maggot for life.
So I linger on, searching for meaning and fun. I have been playing Final Fantasy 9 a lot and feeling nostalgic about the good ole days. I was looking at my driver's license the other day and it still has the old address that I had when I lived with my brother on Alpine. We lived in a two bedroom apartment and it fucking ruled. We respected each other's space and just sort of did our own thing. I seriously miss the shit out of that. I was going to school full time and working 30 hours a week and yet I was pretty happy. I would just play video games, bass guitar and would occasionally do homework. I need to find a sustainable way to tour as often as I would like to. Every 3 months would be great especially if I eventually got a laptop and could find a dark corner right after I was done playing. I need to surround myself with reliable and like minded people and not bullshit myself or anyone else anymore. It is astounding how crushing working is, but not working also hinders my ability to do the things I want to do. It's a vicious cycle. It's never going to get any better. I HAVE NO CHOICE. I need money to make all this possible and that will forever hold me back. But I think I need to find my own penis showing game.

But hey fuck it, do it live! The one thing that I need to remind myself is that nothing is permanent. Even our lives end eventually (thank Kerry King.) If things really get bad enough I am hopeful that I will keep it Conklin and move on to other things. Whatever those other things may be who knows. Probably porn. Action packed porn. Like literally action. Machine guns and one liners aloft. "Remember when I said I'd felatio you last...I lied..." I was hoping that this summer would be full of wonder and whimsy, and perhaps it still will though things are not looking great. I will hopefully have some new gear by the end of May and maybe that will be the kick in the ass I need to Maggot Mosh all over this land of the lost. I notice I use the word "hope" or a variation of that word too often. There is no hope, God Hates Us All. Just wanted to clear that up. Things were looking a little to "bright tunnel-y" for this cowboy. Enjoy the rain everyone.

Sunday, April 14, 2013

Chi Cheng...

"Before my death, I hope to obtain my life."

I woke up today to hear the news that Chi Cheng, the former bassist of Deftones died yesterday after being in a 5 year coma. I was at work all day yesterday so I wasn't near any sort of music news to hear it any sooner. Which made me feel like shit that I spent all day yesterday in blissful ignorance. I don't know about you, but Chi and Deftones were a huge part of my adolescence. They both were a huge part of why I couldn't put my bass down when I was young. So this news has fucked me up and I have to be to work in less than an hour. I seem to have a habit of forgetting what people have meant to me until it's too late. Another big inspiration for me when I was young was my brother's friend Ken who was also killed in a car crash. He helped ignite the flame and I saw what discipline and practice could help me obtain. I couldn't stop crying just like now but my sister Maddie was there to hold me and she was a baby then. Life is so fleeting and I spend half of my waking hours fucking miserable for nothing. I could get smashed by a car tomorrow and I'd have nothing to show for it. I may hate most people but I hope those people I love and respect know that I feel that way for them and will until my death. I really don't have much more to say. I'm really upset about this and I am upset how much it illuminates my own life and how unsatisfied I am with it. We're all dying.

Saturday, April 13, 2013

Wheel Wars, Life Is A Near Death Experience, Ginger Ale-ienation

This is also kind of how Monte reacts
when we get heavy.
Longing played our first show in a long time last night. The journey there was fucking dumb, it was the 2nd or 3rd time I have had to change a tire on my way to or from Kalamazoo. It started making a noise and so I thought "I'll get off at the next exit and check it out." Then it started shaking the car just a little bit and I decided to pull over and look to be safe and found a smoldering pile of wire and tar. I couldn't believe how bad it was without being more noticeable. It's as if Newman got caught in the wheel well after that Dilophosaurus spit toxic sludge on him in Jurassic Park. So I knelt down in the rain putting a spare on while semi-trucks almost clipped me. But I made it there eventually and was surprised by the turn out. We played really well actually and it made me excited to try and stay motivated with that band. That band is really something special to me. It's different from most bands I have been in where you have to practice so much to make the live performance even decent to watch. I still think the more you practice the better off you will be, but we just sort of get carried away in the storm and just do what we do best. I am hoping to do some recording in the not too distant future and go from there. The future looks gloomy for Longing, which of course means "coo." All in all I guess it was worth missing Henry Rollins last night. I will always have that $23 piece of paper to remind me of a great night where I played a show instead of seeing Henry Rollins. I'm sure he'd understand.

That shit ain't vegan.
Unfortunately due to the tire fucking up and other reasons I had to leave before I could watch Planning For Burial's set which will forever cause me to wear sorrow and regret upon my face. But Thom was gracious enough to give me one of his EP's and I listened to it 4 times back to back on the drive home. I thought about a lot of things. I thought about if I drove off into the night and was never seen again and whether I would be missed. I sat in amazement at how the most beautiful things are the creation of tortured souls. It also reminded me of how I will never forget the way the white arches of the Mackinaw Bridge looked on the drive home from a camping trip I took with my dad and brother when I was 9. I was so distraught when I got home that my mom cheered me up with a new Winnie the Pooh movie. Which made me recall how the worst moments of my life were always haunted by sunlight creeping through blinds. Blinds will always make me uneasy. Black it all out. But my greatest fear has always been looking inward. I am grateful that I have the courage to look into the abyss of myself. I always grow and learn more about myself every time I do. And I almost pity these people who are addicted to happiness. They will never have the power to inspire nor will they ever hear the siren's call of illumination. Fucking pathetic if you ask me. Willfully mundane, blissfully forlorn.

But a side story to all of that is when Thom gave me the EP some shitter with a serious case of "Ginger-Vitis" was standing nearby and interrupted with "Oh those are free? Can I have one?" Firstly, they were not actually free and this shit-whistle was just swooping in and taking advantage of someone's generosity. But he gave the kid one if only to shut him up, but then he just sort of awkwardly tried to be a part of a conversation he was never welcomed into. Do you ever have that happen? Where you are hanging out with a friend and some turd-tarantula walks up and pollutes the air with fruitless ventilation? "Yeah is cool huh? Yeah...I like guys like beer? Yeah cool...I wasn't hugged as a child how bout you guys? Yeah...totally..." They just keep going despite it being completely obvious that they are not being received whatsoever. Kerry King help us. People are so fucking dumb. People just need to learn to shut the fuck up more and save the rest of us some oxygen. You don't need to talk all the time and fill the space you occupy with nothingness. No one gives a fuck. Give up, shut up, don't make eye contact and then quietly rot into obscurity. That's my life motto. 

Monday, April 8, 2013

Hard-Ass Soup, The Two Headed Woman and The 6-String Bass, Gloom Totem Pole

You've got two things right now: Jack and Shit,
and Jack just left town.
I saw the 1981 version of "Evil Dead" for the first time last night. (I know I've been fucking up.) I have seen "Army of Darkness" numerous times and they are worlds apart. It does make me curious to see the remake though. Not enough to go pay and see it because I am sure it is shitty in a lot of ways but I did watch a trailer for it earlier and it did look pretty gnarly if you are into gore and shit. And puke gore. And gore being puked into the hole of someone else's gory face filled with pukey gory goo. But Ash will always have a special place in my heart. I think that would be a cool name to have. I would name my kid Ashley Maggot Meier. They would never ever get beat up. Cause I know what it takes to be coo these days. You need to know just a few simple rules to be coo: Do not make eye contact unless you absolutely must, go outside as little as possible and don't talk to anyone ever. Then people will think you are super coo all the time because you are so "exclusive" you see. Yep, that's how that works.

I got to hang out with two of the coolest dudes ever the other day. Master Shredder Graham Henning and Joe "Where's The Fucking Pit?" Moon. For those of you who don't know or live far away in magical lands full of gumdrop forests, Joe and his lovely ladyfriend Sarah just had a baby pit princess named Ramona Wolf Scott-Moon. Isn't that such a cool name? "RAMONA WOLF..." Full of mystery and wonder. I wish I was named Ramona, or Ashley. I think I might go by Ashley now. ASHLEY PIT-WARRIOR. Yep, call me Ashley from now on please. Anywho, I didn't get to meet the little lady but what little positive energy I have will be sent to all of them telepathically. Seems like everyone I know is having babies now, must just getting to be that age. I've said it before time and time again, but Joe and Ryan "Ditch Demon" Brady are the funnest dudes I know and I can't wait to see Bolt Thrower with them and Richard "Tricky Dick" Hackler in June. We'll show that pit how we do in Gun Ru. 

Otherwise, Longing practiced for the last time today before our show on Friday with Planning For Burial. I think it will go pretty well. It is mildly upsetting that our show has to start and end early so that people can get to a better show that was booked down the road. I really hate when that shit happens but Longing has always been a more personal band for me then a band I really desire to share with others. It's more cathartic then it is fun. It's just a different outlet for me then all the other bands I have been involved with. But if any of you are in the Kalamazoo area and feel like getting gloomy by 7 p.m. before Denny's Early Bird Specials run out then feel free to make an appearance. Only mildly related, but I was recently shown this band Agowilt and they are really fucking good. (All accreditation and endorsements are the rights of Butt Abs Inc., a subservient of Tricky Dick Unlimited.) They basically sound a lot like how I would like my band Tristram to sound like. Really fucking heavy but beautiful at the same time. Check them out HERE if you're interested. Speaking of heavy but ugly as shit, it is Paul Gray of Slipknot's birthday today. Though of course he is not with us anymore due to Maggot overdose. As that old Don McLean song goes "This world was never meant for one as Nu as you."

Rest in rot...

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Abandon All Bandoning, Uncle Buck's Back, Arrested Digression

I love this movie, but it really has nothing to
do with anything right now. Coo...
You know what is really frustrating? Trying to think of a fucking band name. I spent a good chunk of the day thinking about band names and every time I thought of a decent one that I thought was obscure enough to not be taken, some French prog-rock band thought of it 4 years ago. It's all based on what kind of genre you are going for too. I think of some names that would be good hardcore band names, or of course there is my eventual nu metal band named Nu Order. Really anything funny is easy as shit to think of but being taken seriously is hard. I might have to settle with Johnny and the Shit-Kickers. I really have no deadline or reason to think of one, I have just been considering doing a sort of solo/collaboration project that I could do in my spare time. I have been playing bass a lot lately and it's kind of flopping around all of the different spectrum of techniques that I have learned over the years. The one song I have going starts with a post-rock riff, then metallic shoegaze, then ambient black metal, then dark dance riff, then I restrain from describing it as sludge but perhaps frozen sludge beneath a falling tree. Basically I have been listening to a lot of Wolves In The Throne Room and have been getting bored and have been wanting to push myself again like I used to do when I was a young lad.

In other news, my brother and his wife are having a baby. Which believe it or not I think is pretty coo. I fall to despair and talk about how shitty everything is all the time, but I think babies can be coo as long as they are not my own at the moment. That being said it's weird to think that I am going to be an uncle. I have a funny Uncle Todd that I always thought was cool and whacky. I kind of want to be like him. I remember being really young and going to a restaurant with my Uncle Todd and he gave me money to pay for our bill and gave me instructions on what to say. And when the waiter came up I handed him the money and said, "Keep the change you filthy animal." And everyone had big old laugh. And if my brother or sister-in-law are reading this, sorry that I am going to make your kid vegan straight edge and you are going to have to buy them Boca burgers and bail them out when they use the patented Meier Mega Missile Massacre move on some tough guy fuck in the pit. Also, you guys are done with coolness beacons (a.k.a. ciggys, jimmys, whimmy whacks, Tony tickles etc.) Maggot don't play that shit.

White Power Bill expressing himself in a meaningful way.
Otherwise, once again nothing is happening. I have been watching Arrested Development a lot and that show is so fucking funny. Every actor is a master at their craft. Apparently a 4th season is set to be released in May exclusively on Netflix. I find that sort of weird but that could be the times we are in now. Television is just so 2006. It's all about the Big Electron. I think the movie could be really good though. Anyways, I am tired. I just ate a really bad vegan grilled cheese and want to wash it down with some peach juice. It's no where near as good as the peach juice we would drink daily in Europe. That shit was so fucking good I wish I could find it here. Beer tokens were actually useful then. Mine as well be beer turds over here. Oh yeah fuck bar shows, fuck bars and fuck bar rats. This chunk was kind of all over sorry about that. Night night.