some things only make sense from far away, others only from right up close

How To Walk In the Snow, A PAMPHLET

A US military F-18 fighter jet has crashed into a residential area of San Diego

I’m looking forward to watching the American Astronaut on a big screen tonight. It ties in so nicely to my recent adventures – sloshing through tunnels under Vegas as dark as outer space, talking Billy Nayer Show out in the desert with Charlie, then staying in San Fransisco, stickily aware of other people’s personal history in the city, maybe I’m standing where they have stood, taking steps inside where they once did, and finally driving North along the lyrical roads Mike has taken a hundred iron times, along the same ocean-starry route that eventually delivered him to me.

If I require a fulcrum to swivel upon as I return, it may as well be that movie, as much a sincere and solid reminder of the unlikely turns my social life thrives upon as anything else out there. If my trip had a theme, that would be it. The tango of this person knowing that person knowing this person knowing them, corrosive echoes of decisive lives over thousands of people, verve fluttering in every direction, scattering media and music, a haunting massacre of staring moments, a deadlock artillery map of unusual experience etched ouroboros inside the memory of my skin.

his linguistics have burrowed into my tongue

My music on random. Snare snap, three beat four four, lifting on the three. The lyrics are enthusiastically running backwards, something groovy and probably bizarre that I really like. Familiar guitar. I’m not even sure what I’m listening to, I’m only listening with half an ear. Suddenly, my head snaps up. What? I know that voice. Even through backmasking, my blood knows that voice. The Men Of Dreams and Secrets. Billy Nayer Show. My relief when I turned out to be right had absolutely nothing on how hard I laughed when I ran the song in reverse. “She couldn’t get it out and it REALLY, REALLY HURT!”

Hilarious. Certainly distinctive. Like everything else they’ve done.

This charming little film was hand-painted with house paint on paper over a course of several years by Cory McAbee in his bathroom. This should give you an idea of the implicit dedication to creative, sparkling intelligence with which he founded his addictive band, The Billy Nayer Show. I cannot reccomend them enough. Warmly glowing songs that teasingly defy definitive genre, straining at the leash of epic, mystifying humour, no one else in my experience has ever written a song about the smell of sex that’s light, dirty, tuneful, regretful, and oddly restrained. “And all the rest of your friends watched you leave together, so they know.”

They’re also 100% responsible for one of my All-Time Top Five Favourite Films, American Astronaut, a movie so good that it was introduced to me as a way to get into my pants. (Which, in light of recent events, if you look at things sideways and leave out a lot of facts, could be said to have just worked for someone involved with the project. How embarassing.) Breathtakingly impressive, the cinematography’s like an outer space reply to Six-String Samurai, while remaining absolutely unique. I’ve given lectures on how much it kicks ass. Buy it here. Seriously. And then have a movie night. Invite all your friends. Hell, apparently it could even get you laid.

I would write more about it, except the best way to see American Astronaut is to simply find a copy, unplug your phone, turn off the lights, and go in blind.

Don’t know anything about it. At all. Because I said so. It’ll blow your socks off.

To be fair, they’re not for everybody in the same way that not everyone appreciates David Byrne or Frank Zappa, (as I’m writing this, I’m listening to a rather ludicrous short story about a princess who isn’t allowed to keep her kittens unless they can carry their weight in the household), but track some down, give them a try. If we can win even ten more converts, think of the good that would do. Sponsor an album and they’ll immediately send you a wonderful CD, full of hope for the future. By sharing the wealth, you’ll make a difference, for less than a dollar a day! Think of the children!