Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Why are homeless people attacking macolm macdowell (?) ... I always feel like applauding after the end one of your sets. ... Gods be made mortal!!!!
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)