Argo Tea on a Friday Afternoon

With each passing day free Internet seems to be easier to find. All Chicago libraries have free Internet. Most coffee shops, at least the independent ones, no longer charge for a connection. Even a few of the bigger chains, such as Argo Tea, let you slow down everyone's speed gratis. Regardless of where one chooses to publicly talk to other people without using their voice, there will be at least one person that stands out.

The Argo off of Chicago Ave, the one near Watertower, is usually busy. This Friday afternoon was no different. The only open seats faced west, directly into the late afternoon sun. Once a spot away from the sun opened up I had already logged an hour of online work. The second space I occupied faced a Caucasian woman in her early 50s. She had been in the tea house for some time. A angel that looked like it would have been at home at a grade school craft sale guarded the left side of her space. To the right was a book on Mozart. Next to that was sheet music. The woman's laptop helped shine a light on the tears. Every ten minutes the woman would openly weep and aggressively rub her right eye. Between the tears were open sighs.

Past the woman sat a father and daughter. They looked out of place. Neither of them talked to each other, made eye contact or smiled. The father sat on the edge of his big comfy chair, turned and staring out the window behind him. The daughter occasionally glanced around, up from her book.

---

I finished another video. I shot the footage in September 2006 in London. I forgot about the footage until last night, when I was trying to find stuff I shot for Daniel Knox. I think this will be the last Fetor video without a story and/or a person.

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My New Year's project or whatever you want to call it will be to watch 104 films I haven't seen and ready 52 books. For good measure, I'll try to make 6 new videos. I should get this god damn tooth, the one that's been fucked up for over 4 years now, fixed and not drink as much booze and eat as much food. "I'm not trying to sound like a dick, but why don't you just get a job with good insurance?" I'll read the books and watch the films and make the videos, but I will probably not make enough to get this tooth filled.

---

The Machine Media Podcast will begin in the next seven days. Kelsey and I have recorded a few but I'm not sure if they're good enough. I bought a preamp and mixer to improve quality and dug out some decent mics. I figure that the best way to make the thing work is start making recordings and see if anyone listens. I sure do have a nifty outlook. Anyways, Kelsey and I both miss doing our respected radio shows so we'll hopefully fill that void.

Buy me gifts. Most are there to help me lose weight, read more and move along The Machine.

Yet another non-plug

The Machine should be coming out in January, our sixth issue and the first quarterly edition. Kelsey and I should begin recording listenable podcasts now that we have some basic equipment. I've started a new blog about "Rolling Stone" covers. Fetor has recorded "The Epitome of Corruption" and released "A Campaign of Suffering."

I have very little money.

Doings

I'm working on a new look for The Machine site. Much more basic, more blogger friendly.

Fetor releases an album Friday. We're also recording one Friday. Same show. I've been busy with that.

It's officially Thanksgiving. I'm in Indian Head Park, bored out of my mind.

I think Issue 5 of The Machine will be pirate themed. Maybe we'll become a quarterly. Or fade away. Maybe have a party and burn all previous issues, leaving no proof behind. Not sure.

Time to make the donuts

It's beautiful outside. It was 20 degrees warmer yesterday. It'll be 20 degrees cooler tomorrow.

Kelsey and I will be spinning Chicago music at Delilah's tonight. I've been listening to a lot of Bo Diddley, so tonight should be good.

Kelsey and I fly to New York next week. We're going to CMJ. It'll be my fourth time, first without a radio station. This means that I don't have to go to any panels. More times to see bands I've never heard of, which is much more fun in practice than theory.

Daytime television commercials make the viewer feel like a failure. Daytime television shows make the viewer feel like a winner. Thanks, Judge Joe Brown, Mathis, Texas Justice, Divorce Court, etc.

BLOG!!!

UPDATE!!! I JUST ATE A BURRITO!!! TOO QUICKLY!!!

If I did sleep with you, I must've been wasted out of my mind.

USA! USA! TOMMY GUNN!!!

I'll be driving around in an Enterprise van for the next two days. I have a college education. That's why the van works. Because I'm really, really smart. And I watch "Maury".

Phil Spector's trial is over. Mistrial. Kelsey will be let down. No pen-pals. At least not yet. That guy is bald! Fashion crime!

UPDATE!!! THE BURRITO IS STILL INSIDE OF MY BODY!!!

Deadlines

Issue 5 of The Machine will come out when Kelsey and I want it to come out. R.I.P. MegaMall.

We're going to New York next month and I'm excited to see other urban neighborhoods for five days.

I haven't read many books this year. That'll change in 2008. Back to at least 52. If I don't follow through I might as well just drink all day.

The Machine hasn't had much work done since July. I haven't written much since June. I have worked on Fetor everyday for the past 3-months but it seems like a waste of time. It's extremely fulfilling playing with Mike and Paul, but what's the ultimate goal? How much are any of us willing to sacrifice in order to "make it", whether that be coke and whores or money and whores.

Proof that I'm a real writer: The walls were painted with the dull pang of children's broken dreams and parents unfulfilled hopes.

Blah blah blah.

It's much more satisfying to sing a song at a loud volume (that phrase is either incorrect or just sounds wrong) than to wow strangers with diction. Unless you're a dick.

Maybe I should be living in a country setting. No neighbors for miles. Scream all you like, no one is going to complain. Maybe we all should live in a country setting. With urban amenities. Like easy access to food, booze, cigarettes and a high speed connection in order to see nude pictures of the cast of "High School Musical" and "Beauty and the Geek."

The "Sex and the City" movie begins shooting today. I hope the following occurs in the "Sex and the City" movie...
-One of the women become unemployed and the other three refuse to acknowledge her
-Herpes
-AIDS
-One falls in love with a hobo
-Stabbing
-A neat fireworks display
-None of the four main characters speak
-Tons o'cock
-A shot of me buying a gyro at 4am in Manhattan
-A cure for AIDS that Magic Johnson steals
-No narration
-Amy Sedaris not following the script

Fuck you, "Entertainment Tonight."

Take my cred

Come live in Humboldt Park. Enjoy the fighting neighbors. Soak in the dog abuse. Observe the 6-year olds play in an abandoned house at 1am. Earn more cred than you'll ever need. Because we all need cred. I'll sell you mine for a place in Lincoln Park.

MachineFest, Night 12

Kelsey did door. I manned the bar. We saw nothing. The cops showing up was a nice way to end the 12-days.

MachineFest, Night 11

Besides the stolen backpack, the dance party at Modemtotem was a success.

MachineFest, Night 10

The Wanderers cancelled on us. It didn't matter. Fuck The Wanderers. Little Sister stepped in and blew everyone away. Fuck structure, fuck politeness, fuck everything, Little Sister has.

Doug Travis needs to play more shows. They're the only band more visually exciting than Little Sister.

Hot Lips Messiah was crowd pleasing, but it's all about Little Sister.

MachineFest, Night 9

Happened.

---

When you know you're no fun

While all the other peers of mine are dancing to the band in the basement, I am upstairs wasting time typing. The stench of weed is a second thought to most, but not to me. Rather than let things just be, I decide to avoid it at all cost. Avoid talking to anyone. Avoid dancing. Avoid making a new friend.

The kids are enjoying themselves. I'm not a child and neither are they, but they are kids to me. They're kids because they dance to enjoy their $5. I am not a kid because I don't pay the $5. I get in for free and wish I wasn't here.

Girls with wet tops and boys with sweaty brows are to my left and right. Behind me is a brick wall. I'm trying to hide from everyone, but not in a "Please, I'm sad, please talk to me" way, but more in a subtle, blankless expression way. People occasionally walk by and make eye contact. I instantly regret looking up.

But things aren't that bad. I have at least 20 more ounces of beer at my disposal. I will drink all of these ounces and use all of my might to prevent cursing at the owners of where I'm currently stealing internet. I will do everything I can to quiet the urge to destroy everything I see. To stand on faces while I stab necks. To dismantle PAs in order to make my sound louder.

Do this, in memory of me.

MachineFest, Night 8

It's not possible to have a bad show at Cal's. It's always loud and if you don't like the band, you can sit outside on Van Buren and drink beer.

Shopping is very good. I bought two 7 inches and a tour CD. Rise of Man makes excellent metal and now I want to play metal. Altgeld Forgotten has gotten much tighter and has played all 8 festivals I've booked (I think). I want to sing for Shotgun For Royalty.

We should have had every show at Cal's.

MachineFest, Night 7

Hip-hop night at the Darkroom. We broke even. A hip-hop show in Ukranian Village on a Monday night with great sets from each performer is a success to me.

Yea Big and Kid Static made me smile.

MachineFest, Night 6

I could listen to Daniel Knox everyday of my life and still enjoy it. His set, along with Eric Ziegenhagen and KT the Band was a nice break from all the loud music. I'd like to have each of them perform in my living room on a weekly basis.

MachineFest, Night 5

Technically everyone at The Flower Shop stopped what they were doing to dance to Nightfox's set.

MachineFest, Night 4

The buzz night.

Charlie Deets was billed to perform. Charlie Deets performed with the members of his band Sally. They performed two songs in 25-minutes. It was wonderful and psychedelic.

Aleks in the Drummer had a piece about them in the Friday edition of the Chicago Tribune and Red Eye. Buzz. Aleks' vocal melodies make their songs. There's not much I can say that every music blog hasn't.

J+J+J actually got people to dance at Double Door.

Arks closed out the night and, I swear to god, they looked like they were having fun.

It'll probably be the best night of the fest.

MachineFest, Night 3

Our first show at Ronny's. If a band sounds good in a garage, they'll sound good anywhere.

Mr. Russia added a second bassist. This makes them a power trio, with bass, drums and bass. Imagine all the Shellac songs when Albini doesn't play guitar. It's like that. It's good. It's loud.

Twin Wrecks the Memory played. They're becoming my go-to band whenever I seem to hate rock and roll.

Team Band got really drunk and were really fun.

Another one next week. I'm expecting Doug Travis to pull out all the stops.

MachineFest, Night 2

There was a monsoon or flash flood or something horrible with rain. From an hour before doors til the last band took the stage, the weather was not on our side last night. Even so, we still managed to have a good night at Double Door. The Hushdrops were spot on. The Goldstars brought go-go dancers to an appreciative crowd. Venom Lords treated everyone to pop punk ditties. Kelsey and I filled time with Chicago tunes. All in all, a good night despite Jesus hating us.

MachineFest, Night 1

Opening night at Liar's Club was fun, too much fun. For the first time I opened a festival I booked (this time co-booked) with my own band. Fetor played a set in reverse order, new stuff to old stuff. We were out of tune, no one could hear my vocals and I smashed a Flying V. It was a good set.

Mannequin Men spun old rock and roll tunes. WLUW DJs made people dance upstairs. Everyone was pleased.

Thunderwing played songs about rocking and did a lot of rock and roll posing. Their fans were also happy.

Most importantly, Herb, the owner of Liar's Club, was happy. If the owner is happy, I'm happy.

We made a good amount of money for the next issue. At this rate, we might actually dig ourselves out of debt.

Kelsey did not go to work. I am even sicker than the day before. We won.

Why did we decide to start a fest on a Tuesday?

Holy fucking

Fucking in a wheelchair, less to fight off.

HAHAHAHAHA. A Poem. I'm a POET. You're a poet.

Do you see that hole? I can't be like that.

Do you know about St. Henry?

We're going to have a bake sale to raise $300,000. It's time to learn God's Gospel.

What the fuck am I writing about? I'm the BEST beat writer. Bro.

This week I will ingest Dayquil, Nyquil, Rye whiskey, beer, cigarette smoke (1st and 2nd) and microwaveable diet food.

Liar's Club. I keep thinking of Liar's Club. Then it'll be the next show. If there's no next show I better break all my guitars.

Two more days

Fetor at Liar's Club. A chance to burn bridges in musical form while showing the size of my guitar dick.

Pre-MachineFest

The fest starts next Tuesday. We lost two venues in the last week. I've been drinking a lot of coffee and hoping not to hear anyone cry.

Do I even like this anymore? Some of the shows are fun and some of the people are fun and sometimes I have fun, but I can't remember the last time that happened. I can't remember the last time I had fun doing all this type of work. If I got high I would have a lot of fun.

It's no fun trying to work with 'revolutionaries'. It's no fun when you're sober. It's violent when you're drunk.

I talk to Kelsey and Mike and not many others. That's OK by me.

I don't talk about my experiences working on large scale festivals because they're not positive. The people that know me understand this. The people that don't ask for tickets.

This isn't funny.

Slowly turning Republican with each inhale of second-hand pot smoke.

Come on, kids

Scary is fun and all, but look at who is making the scary.

The new Manson video ends with his new gal pal, 19-year old, Ms. Wood and the Anti-Christ drive a car over a cliff. It's very dramatic. Then the screen fades to black. Even more dramatic. Then comes "INTERSCOPE 2007".

Scary.

It would be much more frightening if anyone cared.

Melting

I now live in Humboldt Park.

Wang Dang Doodle

3

Issue 3 comes out tomorrow. Party three days from now. The cat loves me because I give him tuna.

"I don't even knows if he's mines or nots."

But Iggy's fucking rich

Josh Grobin makes me happy I'm not rich. I bet rich people my age like him.

No Fun

Non-digital cable sucks.

It took almost 6-hours that I could read before I sleep rather than watch TV or listen to records. That's fucked up.

The Machine Issue 3 comes out Wednesday. Party on Saturday. Rock 'N Roll guitar every night.

The Machine site finally has a surplus of stories. It only took about two-years.

Doug is going to Oregon State. He was kind enough to give me his giant canvas. It now has a noose.

Saturday was Rage Against The Machine. Sunday was The Stooges. Monday did not have a reunion.

My mother is applying for a overnight shift at K-Mart. While I'm pleased that she's looking for work once again, I am disappointed that she is not able to use her college education. I'm not sure if my sadness is due to her or my socialization. Fuck it. Maybe she can steal some shit. Like Iggy. Iggy would steal shit. Iggy would steal shit and then fuck the manager. Then Iggy would spend a few years homeless in L.A. Maybe I shouldn't think of Iggy so much.

What Easter is really about

Nope.

I did this.

Groceries

I can't shake grocery stores. Everything about them. Everything they are to all people. I'm helpless. I can't figure it out. I'll write more in zine form.

I bought pizza rolls and shampoo.

If I don't stop this I'll never get anywhere

Rather than use the internet for good or evil I'm using it to waste time. Accidentally researching stories and finding out more about bands from Chicago I've never heard of. I guess I'm not cut out for writing. I get too envious of people.

The outlying suburbs seem like the Wild West.

buck oh five

Though I've been on a computer with an Internet connection every day I haven't had a desire to update this thing. Since my last update I have...

-discovered the joys of mp3 blogs
-went to a wedding in Iowa
-started a new zine about things I don't understand
-came up with what I think would be a worthwhile grant proposal
-painted a RobotJesus
-wasted days (if you add it up) on the bus

Some of my friends are doing amazing things. Some of them should be in prison. I'm somewhere in the middle. I will never write a song like "The Middle" by Jimmy Eat World.

Late nite, not night, but nite

Thank God for God. When it's past midnight and before 7am, I desire insane rhetoric aimed at God fearing souls. Did you know Jesus knew everything that was going to happen? Well, I just learned that. Thank you, WGN. You truly are the World's Greatest Network.

Holy shit, did I get fat. I don't wake up everyday and think I'm fat or care all that much, but my Widget has shown me the light. Photos from 2001. Photos of things I don't remember doing with people I no longer talk to. I have gained a substantial amount of weight.

Why is Dan calling me at 1:20am? Something about the band Traffic and choreographed moves.

There was a man in Mark chapter 5 that was possessed by demons and ran naked through a grave yard. Intellectuals are dumb like that guy. Girls are going wild. They went without underwear and spread their legs. God is going to hold you girls responsible. Jesus built my hot rod. All programs, infomercial, sitcom, news, etc., should have a guy that ties everything together. It sure makes the Bible a lot easier to understand.

I talked into a microphone, it stole my soul

Click the album art to go to the download page
or click here to get it on iTunes!

Fall of Autumn presents Brandon Wetherbee reading a piece entitled "The Ultimate Warrior was the Catalyst for the September 11th Attacks." Brandon has written over twenty issues of his perzine, Foul, contributed to Sanitary & Ship and is the co-editor of the Chicago publication, The Machine.

Everybody's fancy

We're running a little behind on issue 2. Everything will be done by Friday, but instead of taking advantage of the week off, nothing was accomplished. I've added notes to my stories but haven't put anything substantial on the screen.

Sidenote: I think there are werewolf noises on the Beck song "Nausea". There's definitly something.

Friday night was all about the corner of Lincoln and Irving. Kelsey used to live in Lincoln Square but we haven't spent an entire night in the neighborhood for a long time. We ate at Orange Garden, saw Paul's band at Silvie's (more about that later this week on the Machine site), drank a few beers with Mike at a decent bar that had $1 pints but an identity crisis (sports vs. dive vs. yuppie) and watched "Da Ali G" show at Mike's place about a bathroom fixture store.

That last paragraph is proof positive that I'm much too out-of-touch with whatever is cool. The following will also prove my case.

I spent Saturday with my mother in Indian Head Park. The visit wasn't nearly as depressing as it could have been. Her overall demeanor was better than usual and I was calm after finishing a Mr. Rogers book.

The evening was spent at the Brain, manning the door. I still smell like smoke. It was also the first night there in months that I didn't write a word. That's not a good sign.

I spent more than 75% of the day in bed (if you count a futon mattress on a floor a bed). I consumed fried food like a real man. I napped from 10-11pm like a real man. I'm up at 2:54am like a real man.

While updating the Machine myspace page I came across an ad that looked like a possible DJ opportunity. It was actually for a porn star signing in LA. The porn star is in works similiar to SuicideGirls, if SuicideGirls did actual porn. I did some more research and the correlation between major and indie porn isn't much different than major and indie music labels. I'm trying to find a Chicago spin on this thing because it's one of the most interesting media related stories I've stumbled across.

I'm spinning at least five times in February. I'd like to make increase that number to seven. I'm not sure why. I fucking hate this time of year.

Witty?

This should be more witty. I'm not so witty. I'm full of yogurt and orange juice at 3:01am.

Juicy Juice

Issue 2 is mostly written. A piece on Rogers Park by Eric Lab Rat. A column about the CTA by Emerson Dameron. A interview conducted by Arvo. Kelsey and I are working on pieces about the Loop preacher, the closing of the downtown Carson's, a one-on-one with a dominatrix (I hope this one is taken out of context), maybe the Alley, maybe a Captain Chicago comment and maybe another creepy photo essay. All of this would be done if I didn't drink so much orange juice and soaked in so much Maury.

Lie detectors lie. That may or may not be a lie.

Still in the running

"America's Next Top Model" proves that the females that want to be models on the series are wonderful wastes of life. Almost as big of a waste as that last sentence.

Get a blank piece of paper.

Stare at it.

Think of someone that has let you down, made you angry, filled you with hate.

Cry.

Let it out.

Bitch.

Clever.

Kelsey and I spun at the Brain for New Year's Eve. We had a good time with Emerson and Nell. The first three songs of 2007 were
Mr. Rogers "It's Such A Good Feeling"
Chamilionaire "Ridin'"
AC/DC "Highway to Hell"
The song that got the biggest reaction was Sam Cooke's "Dancing the Night Away".


To celebrate the new year full of Mr. Rogers, Eric and Sarah came over and we had deep fried pizza, Chicago cookies (see The Machine for more on that), candy bars, Oreo's, Chex mix and more. Everyone won/lost.

We just finished uploading issue 1 of The Machine.

Done.

58. Mark Leyner and Billy Goldberg "Why Do Men Have Nipples? Hundreds of Questions You'd Only Ask a Doctor After Your Third Martini"