Why are homeless people attacking macolm macdowell (?) ... I always feel like applauding after the end one of your sets. ... Gods be made mortal!!!!

Did anyone else notice that "Longtime Listener" got silent for the rest of the night, as soon as I mentioned (in jest) that we could track his I.P.? I hate to think that there might actually be a Castle listener with women held prisoner in his basement, but it's also a possibility that I would be irresponsible to rule out entirely. Then again, it could be an old, familiar voice/face, jiving me just to get some attention. Ahhh...oy! Don't quote me, never quote me. ...Listening now, I see why there were also some commenter/listeners, writing about licking, sticking etc., but "sticking the landing" What is that? -And I guess I'd better brace myself for the possible, overwhelming smell of chloroform, eh? Lights out.

So, Tuesdays? Tacos. Two-fers. Preferably together, as I like them both (that's songs for the latter, not women.) I posited long ago, perhaps even off-line (in real-life, imagine!?!) that it was in fact TUESDAY that is the worst day of most people's work week (I won't go into the vapor of why, here, but my conviction to this edict is strong), so maybe The Castle can serve as some kind of balm for Tuesday pressures, a breathing out for the ever-growing volume of Castle-heads. (Vat Tuedays; everybody wants something from me, I shit you not. "Wm., can you? No, I cannot!" I need to learn to say "no" more effectively, and those that ask the least, get the most —a clue! In my case at least, being the squeaky wheel will get you—oil withheld.)

So, much love for the prog—good, good! Voluminous were the comments of praise for last night's first set. Great to know that those typically enriched by the wealth of black metal we share on The Castle will also walk with me to Birgé, Gorgé and Shiroc. And much praise for The Gate as well; their live radio set continues to be a favorite of mine and of others, too. The Vomit Dreams CD is a grim-but-eloquent slice of blood-soaked improvisation, just like I like, and thanks to the band, we'll have one copy as a prize giveaway when the 2014 WFMU marathon hits, of this very special, unique recorded offering.

Now, miniature black birds fly upwards in the periphery of my vision, and I realize that it is time to finally sleep. I'm sure that "grabbed" feeling I feel today (some would call it "Wednesday," but my Tuesday has not yet ended) can be largely attributed to my very-colored perception, "enhanced" by a sheer lack of shuteye. So, in conclusion, this Tuesday thing seems to be a boon all around, for reasons cited above, and I am glad.

Click on the apparition of poor Viviane, re-released into this Wild World too soon, from Maurice Devereaux's End of the Line (that's "Morris," by the way, not "More-eese"), a mini-classic from 2007 (though it feels very 1991), to reach the playlist, colorful comments, and audio archive of last night's My Castle of Quiet radio program. (End of the Line trailer)