All posts by Joe

Safety dance.

Sleep soundly, America. George W. Bush is keeping you safe. Safe from World War III (by threatening yet another war in the world’s most volatile region). Safe from socialized medicine or “government run healthcare” (by vetoing even the modest health care initiative passed by a spineless congress). Safe from terrorists (by terrorizing the accused and the extra-judicially detained). Don’t you feel better now? This has been another busy week for the administration, what with the launch of yet another in their long series of reasons why we invaded Iraq and why we must also confront (and perhaps attack) Iran. Yes, we are literally there to prevent World War III – that is what might happen if we back down now. This is the long awaited sequel to:

  1. We must disarm Saddam
  2. We must bring democracy to ordinary Iraqis (who yearn for freedom)
  3. We must catch Saddam (thereby ending the insurgency)
  4. We must stand up an Iraqi army (so that we can then stand down)
  5. We must prevent a civil war
  6. We must keep the civil war from getting worse
  7. We must fight the terrorists over there so as not to fight them here
  8. We must capture / kill Zarchawi (thereby ending the insurgency)
  9. We must secure Baghdad first (by digging a trench around it)
  10. We must send more troops (so that the Iraqi government can have time to do our bidding)
  11. We must fight Iranian influence in Iraq (bastards have no business being there!)
  12. We must punish the Iranians (for killing Americans sent to fight their influence)
  13. We must support the Anbar Awakening (and consequent ethnic cleansing of thousands of Shi’ite families)

I’m certain I’ve left a few out, but you get the idea. Flavor of the week. My particular favorite is #7 – the “fight them there rather than here” bit. As if there were a finite number of terrorists in the world who would follow us to wherever we choose to fight them, then once they’ve been defeated, they’re gone for good. Safe!

Since they managed to convince us to tolerate the commencement and further prosecution of this war, they probably think we’ll swallow anything.

Talking Turkey – Per news reports and Juan Cole’s blog, somewhere between 70,000 and 100,000 Turkish troops are massed along that nation’s border with Iraq. As Iraqi Kurdish leaders and the folks in Ankara prepare for war, our Defense Secretary (per Cole) has said that we will take action against the Kurdish PKK (Workers Party), the Turkish faction allegedly being harbored by Iraqi Kurds. Told you we’d throw them over the side.

luv u,

jp

Travel plan.

Good morning, sunshine. Stop that blinking – just rub the sleep right out of your eyes and get back to work, you shiftless mo-fo. If you want me, I’ll be… in the top bunk… just up the stairs… zzzzzzz…

Yes, exchanges like that take place regularly here at the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, where your friends in the Big Green collective are now warehousing themselves. When we’re not discussing anarcho-syndicalist theory, we’re making onion dip using sour cream and that cheap-shelf powdered soup mix. (You know, the kind with the crispy onion bits… mmmm, boy!) Then there are the 6-hour meditation sessions over a ceremonial plate of Ramen noodles. (The one who doesn’t fall asleep gets to eat the noodles. If you stay awake two sessions in a row, you can even boil them before you eat ’em.) So don’t think we’re an undisciplined gang of louts over here – we know how to keep the rabble amongst us in line, yessir. (It’s sorting out the rabble from the worthy that gets me confused…. so confused!)

When we are not testing ourselves physically, mentally, or spiritually, we are… well… dealing with the day-to-day pressures of life at the top. Did I say “the top”? I meant the other end. Always get those two mixed up. Oh, sure, we’re not exactly a hit factory here on the terrestrial music scene, however much applause we garner on other planets (and asteroids… don’t forget asteroids). But then you know that – that’s why you’re here. (You are here, aren’t you? AREN’T YOU???) You don’t want the kind of pop band that plays stadiums and makes millions and shows up on your favorite television shows and on the boxes of your favorite toaster waffles. You love Big Green because you want a band that lets a man sized tuber help with the mixing console… one that lets the robot assistant drive the spacecraft every once in a while. That’s because, well, you’re special. (And I’m not pandering, so don’t look at me like that.)

Speaking of which… as you may recall, we did, in fact, let Marvin (my personal robot assistant) drive the spacecraft last week. And as a reward for our broad-mindedness, he crashed the son of a bitch. (To be fair, Marvin was just trying to get into the spirit of our flapjack-fueled saturnalia, so he shouldn’t be saddled with all of the blame. Fucker.) In the absence of our scientific contingent, we undertook the task of repairing the vehicle, desperately trying to keep to the looming tour schedule our corporate paymasters at Loathsome Prick records recently handed down. But, of course, we had never assembled a spacecraft before… we had no guide for putting the pieces back together. (That sounds vaguely familiar to me.) And I have to say, it looked a little different before Marvin crashed it into the courtyard. Just possible we did something wrong, but…. ain’t no tellin’ until we hit that thruster control. (Insert dramatic tension here. Okay, that’s enough.)

Anyway, another week will tell the story. The countdown to Mars (or Armageddon) has begun. T-minus one six days and counting. Now it’s six days, eleven hours, fifty-nine minutes and fifty-eight seconds. Now it’s…..

Truthocide.

Another landmark: this week a House committee approved a resolution recognizing the Armenian genocide of nearly a century ago – a grisly chapter in Turkish history when perhaps 1.5 million Armenians were put to death. To speak of it in Turkey now is enough to get you in trouble with the law, much as it is problematic for Turkish Kurds to converse in their native tongue or make culturally significant apparel choices. (Irony alert: back in 1915, the Turks employed Kurds to do some of the killing of Armenians.) The Bush administration and many G.O.P. congressmen have raised the alarm that such a declaration at this time will threaten the safety of our troops in Iraq… not that safety appears to be anything like a central concern, since they were the ones who sent them over there in the first place. Still, they suggest (with uncharacteristic accuracy) that the Turks will be pissed off about this resolution and that it may result in interrupted supply lines via Iraq’s all-important northern frontier. Representatives of the Turkish government have pointed out that, because their country is a democracy, they will have to respond to the will of the people if there is a broad public outcry.

What is worth remembering, even if many of us choose not to, is that the Turkish people are already well and truly pissed off at us over the Iraq war, and that they were against it so overwhelmingly in 2003 that Bush could not use Turkey as an invasion route. (I recall that great defender of democracy Paul Wolfowitz suggesting that the Turkish military should override the public sentiment at that point.) It’s hard to imagine that outrage over the Armenian genocide resolution would make the Turks dislike us all that much more. I suspect an even more serious sticking point for them is the close U.S. alliance with Iraqi Kurds, who remain their current obsession. The Turkish government prosecuted a murderous campaign against its own Kurdish population during the 1990s, and the conflict is still smoldering today. Cross border incursions by the Turkish military into northern Iraq have taken place since the U.S. occupation began and will likely continue, particularly if Iraqi Kurds move toward greater autonomy (as Joe Biden and Sam Brownback seem to agree they should). Sure, the past is important to the Turks, but the present is positively urgent.

My own guess (for what it’s worth) is that if there were a serious dust-up between Turkey and Iraq’s Kurds, Washington would throw the Kurds over the side as great powers have for many decades. In any case, it does strike me as painfully ironic that Congress is calling the Turks out for the Armenian genocide of 1915 when they cannot bring themselves to stop the killing spree that our own country is engaged in right now in Iraq. It’s not as if the numbers of people killed are all that different – if the Johns Hopkins study is as close to the truth as many think it is, the total may be around a million by now. So our cry of anguish for murdered Armenian families rings a little hollow, frankly. For fuck’s sake, we can’t even own up to the millions killed during our savage attack on Indochina back in the 60s and 70s, when perhaps seven times as much explosives were dropped on that sorry region as on every nation combined during World War II. Have we a moral leg to stand on here?

Read the news. Just this week, our military announced that, along with 15 “al Qaeda” operatives, they killed 15 civilians in a single incident, 9 of them children. If we can’t stop that, hang the resolutions.

luv u,

jp

After burner.

What was that? You want more? Already? No chance, Jack. I’m shutting you off. This little watering hole has dried up, my friend.

WTF, followers of Big Green’s meandering life story – since when am I the flapjack nazi, anyway? Am I not every bit the addict that my various colleagues have shown themselves to be over the last few years? I should say so. (And, in fact, I did.) Even now, as lame made-for-television-commercial emo music wafts up from the living room downstairs, I am pouring grade A Patagonian pancake batter into the frying pan, the glorious golden circles of nutrition spreading out from the stream, spattering hot butter in every direction. Total abandon, my friends – isn’t that what you expect out of your pop musicians? Total, aimless, sputtering self-abandon, yea unto self-destruction. I have embarked upon that grimly seductive road. If I’m less than generous with the fruit of my skillet, it is out of conscience, not selfishness. DON’T FOLLOW ME HERE! SAVE YOURSELVES!!!

Whew! Forgive me. Flapjacks tend to bring out the melodrama in all of us. Just last night, posi-Lincoln got a bellyful and started spouting Shakespeare – Henry VI – Part II, I believe, though I’m no scholar, as I’m sure you know. (Keeps calling himself “York” and me “Gloucester,” then galloping off amid some unintelligible utterance. Strange, strange man.) Then, of course, there’s Marvin (my personal robot assistant), who is technically immune to the effects of flapjack consumption, but who is so anxious to be included in everything that he mimics the worst of us. And damn. does he overdo it! First he insists upon taking part in Lincoln’s performance. Then, after nearly a week of pulling our spacecraft together in preparation for our trip to Mars, Marvin, overcome with imagined euphoria, took the sucker up into the airspace above the mill and crashed it into a nearby bean field. Most impressive display.

I could go on about our failings, but you probably want to save some of that for later. What really irks me, though, is that this latest binge has set us back considerably in fulfillment of our deal with our record label, Loathsome Prick, which has demanded a string of gigs on the red planet in exchange for an extension on our album release date. We’ve got a pile of repair work to do now. What we really need is some expert assistance from our mad science advisor, Mitch Macaphee… or perhaps a little coaxing from Trevor James Constable’s orgone generating device. Unfortunately, both of the more knowledgeable members of our contingent are now plowing much richer pastures in Europe and South America. Yes, friends… Mitch is in Brazil, shaking a casaba right now, most likely, while Trevor James has repaired to the south of France for some kind of bio-etheric conference. Where are they when you need them, eh? (I think I just answered that question.)

Well, more than anything else, we need one of those smart guys to repair over to the Hammer Mill and repair our damaged space vehicle. Mitch…. Trevor… if you are reading this you can find me here:

Behind this enormous stack of flapjacks
Downstairs kitchen
Cheney Hammer Mill
Little Falls, NY

So don’t say you can’t find us, ’cause you can.

It ain’t over.

Sy Hersh just published a story in The New Yorker on the Bush White House’s evolving plans to attack Iran. I imagine the fact that they are contemplating such madness will come as a surprise to no one, but Hersh describes a recent shift in the administration’s rationale from “counterproliferation” to “counterterrorism”, and this does raise some troubling possibilities. Their efforts to blame Iran for all of their troubles in Iraq have kicked into high gear over the past few months, and Hersh reports that they appear to believe that, with respect to public opinion, they are getting more traction with this argument than they had with the specter of a nuclear-armed Iran. (Apparently the American people are not as anxious to march lemming-like to the tune of that particular drum as they were in 2002-03.) This, of course, means that the Bush team is, once again, fixing the facts around the policy – deciding what they want to do first (e.g. bomb Iran), then working up a marketable rationale to generate public support. And the standard of proof for this particular fear-mongering is much lower than what is required for a smoking gun/mushroom cloud appeal.

As we’ve seen in recent years, Hersh’s reporting is never to be taken lightly. Bush/Cheney is very likely to attack Iran before they leave office. But for those who take some comfort in the knowledge that their exit is a mere 15 months away, take heed – our troubles won’t end on 01.20.2008, no matter what those bumper stickers say. Here’s why:

  • Democratic frontrunner Hillary Clinton is a hawk on Iran. This is what she told AIPAC in February: “U.S. policy must be clear and unequivocal: We cannot, we should not, we must not permit Iran to build or acquire nuclear weapons…. In dealing with this threat … no option can be taken off the table.” Not exactly Joan Baez on this issue. What’s more, she supported the Senate’s non-binding resolution to designate the Iranian Revolutionary Guard as a terrorist organization – a key building block in Bush’s revised strategy for attacking Iran. Like the regime change resolution on Iraq in 1998, the intent is clear – prelude to war.
  • Neocons have a long reach. As Hersh reports, Commentary‘s Norman Podhoretz recently had a 45-minute session with Bush to encourage him to bomb Iran. His son in law, the odious Elliott Abrams, is one of Bush’s point people on Middle Eastern affairs – he played a role in Israel’s bombing of Lebanon last year. Podhoretz is a big fan of front-runner GOP presidential candidate Rudy Giuliani.

So, as Edward G. Robinson said in The Ten Commandments, “Nyaah… Where’s your Moses now?” (or something like that). Don’t think regime change at home means policy change. Both parties are chock full of people who will clamor for the chance to put those bombers into action. (Our air force may be dropping plenty of bombs on Iraq, but they’re not nearly as tied down as the army and marines. And the navy still has both hands free.)

By all means, vote. But don’t think for a moment that will be enough.

luv u,

jp

Three, two, one, fugoff!

Now, let’s see… how does that song go? Hmmmm…. strike up the band, Johnny. One small step… for one bald man. Giant leap for all time. Christmas day, thank you, ma’am. I came in peace… and left my mind!

That’s an oldy. Oh, yes… Christmas 1996 – I remember it well. As soon as we get our thumbs out of our asses on this seemingly endless project, I’m going to trawl through the archives and dust off some of those recordings that have never before seen the light of day. Prepare to be amazed. (Did I say “amazed”? I meant “annoyed.” Or perhaps “nauseated”.) But before you get to thinking that I’m distracting you from our current lethargy with vague promises of archival releases somewhere down the road, let me assure you that your good friends in Big Green are looking over these old songs for some very, very good reasons. And no, I don’t mean nostalgia for a past equally obscure as our present. No, no…. better reasons than that. Aggravated threats, mostly. And projectiles.

Let me ‘splain. We are under contract with Loathsome Prick, our corporate label, to release our long-anticipated (or perhaps no longer anticipated) sophomore album at some time in the next year or so. They had the option to demand the product any time after September 30, and, well, they did (the fuckers). Naturally, when we signed the contract (or, rather, had the man-sized tuber sign for us) we thought the release date would be quite a long ways off. Trouble with that long-ways-off kind of thinking is that, if you think about it too long, it gets a whole lot closer. So here we were, our album still not finished (though completely recorded), and the nice gentlemen at Loathsome Prick jumping all over our shit. What else could we do but cut yet another deal with them? This one was an agreement to play some gigs on Mars to promote the new collection. So now we’re scraping together a few sets worth of music – the usual last-minute scramble. So it goes.

I enlisted Marvin (my personal robot assistant) to descend into the catacombs of the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill in search of old songs – tapes, lead sheets, lyrics, whatever he could find. After a day or two, he reappeared on the ground floor, his brass tarnished, his sensors covered with dust, but his ramshackle arms laden with booty. Marvin had stumbled upon the old sea trunk I had brought with me years ago when we first arrived at the mill. (Seems like just yesterday.) Inside were moth-eaten reams of paper, yellow with age (though they were legal pads, so they actually started out kind of yellow). I showed them to Matt, and he nodded solemnly. Yes, yes… these were the notebooks upon which he and I had penned so many of the songs that had made us obscure back in the day. (That was a hard day.) We began flipping through the parchment-like folios, mouthing the words silently as we went along. Nice work, Marvin. Good robot.

Okay, so finding our notes is one thing; putting together the songs is entirely another. From what I understand, we have about three weeks to get our ducks in a row. Then it’s off to the land of “Opportunity”. (You know… the Mars rover, “Opportunity”? The other one’s called “Spirit”? Never mind.) Somebody water the tuber – this could be a long hike.

Who is he now, then?

If the aim this week was to put Iran in the crosshairs, the Bush administration barely needed to lift a finger, it seems. People were climbing over one another to denounce president Ahmadinejad and none so much as those who invited him to speak at Morningside campus. Is it possible that his invitation was the result of some kind of clerical error? Perhaps they meant to invite some other president – someone committed to democracy, the rule of law, and the whims of the Bush clan, like “president” Pervez Musharraf. Whatever the case may be, Columbia was ground zero in the clash of civilizations for a few hours, with Ahmadinejad being decried as the “Hitler of the Middle East”. (Hmmm… that has a familiar ring to it.) Hell, over there, you can hardly take a bath without six or seven Hitlers jumping in with you. I guess the standard for Hitlerianism has lapsed somewhat over the past few years. Used to be you had to, you know, invade someone. Now it’s just saying a few laughably absurd things, like there are no gays in Iran.

Much is made of the Iranian leader’s propensity towards denial of the Holocaust, but he’s hardly alone in the middle east on that score. As Norm Finkelstein has pointed out, Bush’s favorite Palestinian Mahmoud Abbas has something like a degree in Holocaust denial. Frankly, I find it to be a bit like claiming the sun is a figment of our collective imaginations. Has there ever been more evidence of a crime than what there is with respect to Nazi extermination programs? (The “9/11 truth” movement is a mild version of this goofiness.) Still, people are encouraged to focus on Ahmadinejad’s comments because he has also had harsh words for Israel. Of course, most of what he has said has been in the context of quite public ruminations by both the U.S. and Israel about bombing the living piss out of Iran. That bit usually gets left out of mainstream press reports.

When thinking about the Iranian president, it’s best to remember a few things. First, as I’ve mentioned here before, he is not the supreme leader of Iran. The presidency of Iran is a constitutionally limited office, answerable to the ruling council of mullahs and the supreme leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, who is commander-in-chief of the Iranian armed forces. Second, Iran does not have the capability to destroy either America or Israel, but both of these powers have the ability to destroy Iran. Israel has hundreds of nuclear weapons and effective delivery systems; the U.S. has thousands, plus large military deployments across the border on both sides of Iran and in the Persian Gulf. This would tend to encourage the Iranians to, well, start building bombs. (One would think Ahmadinejad would be roundly criticized for not doing so.) Finally, to the extent that Iran is interested in building nuclear weapons (which they don’t appear to be, it should be said), it’s as a deterrent to the forces arrayed against them. That is the only use for nuclear weapons, frankly. And even if he were irrational enough to want to provoke a massive retaliation that would destroy his entire country, he wouldn’t have the authority to order it.

Our dear leader, on the other hand, has his shaky finger on the button. And as people are decrying Ahmadinejad, Bush has turned the U.S. Air Force base in Ballad, Iraq into the second busiest airport in the world, dropping as many bombs in Iraq so far this year as were dropped in the previous three. Morality starts at home, folks.

luv u,

jp

Hello, spaceman.

Are you ready to rumble? Not yet? Okay then. Just asking. Don’t get upset, now. Put that down. I said PUT THAT DOWN! Do it or someone’s going to get hurt. No. NO. NOOOOOOOO!!!

Ahem. Well, we won’t post any more of that exchange, as it may be upsetting to young children. (This is a FAMILY blog, friends. Fuck yes.) Welcome back to the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill, where band members are listless, robots are corroding, and plant creatures are setting down new roots as we speak. (The man-sized tuber has abandoned his terrarium for a patch of ground in the courtyard. Seems he’s getting in touch with his inner gingko tree.) Yes, your friends and colleagues in Big Green have taken refuge in the same safe harbor, seeking shelter from the storm beneath the same perforated roof that has offered us a modicum of protection over the past seven years. No, it hasn’t fallen in yet. And we have hopes that that will never, ever happen. (Well…. “never, ever” is a very long time.)

We spent much of this week making a desperate effort to finish our sophomore album in time for the highly unreasonable release date handed down by the corporate chieftains at our label, Loathsome Prick. Then somewhere around, oh, Wednesday, Matt and John threw up their hands. (Being somewhat less original than they are, I did so as well.) It just wasn’t going to happen. Release, yes… but not October. Never October. In fact, we ran the numbers through Marvin (my personal robot assistant) and his statistical modeling analysis module started emitting greasy black smoke. (Marvin did the rest of the calculations with a pad, pencil, and 39-cent wristwatch calculator.) It seems, at our present rate of activity, we may manage a Spring 2008 release, taking into consideration the current non-alignment of the outer planets and the relative mass of the third-quarter moon. (You mathematicians know what I’m talking about.)

Well, anyway – that was Wednesday. That left two more days to figure out how we will break the news to our masters at Loathsome Prick. Mind you, we’ve had prior experience with belligerent corporate labels. Some of you may remember our detention at the hands of Indonesian military goons contracted by our old label, Hegemonic Records and Worm Farm, Inc. (now Hegephonic). It was not pleasant, not nearly… so you can probably understand our trepidation. Naturally, we recruited Marvin to convey the news, preferably in some kind of binary code that would take the suits at Loathsome Prick a couple of days to decipher. Marvin put the message together and sent it off via the automaton equivalent of instant messenger. We waited. At some point during the course of that afternoon, I felt a mild earth tremor. Translation complete! Sure enough, the phone rang. We gave it seventeen or eighteen rings before answering. (Let ’em think we’ve got customers.)

Well, turns out they’re okay with the postponement, on one condition. Yes, that’s right, there is a forfeit. We have to play some showcase gigs. Where? At a venue near you. So long as you live on planet Mars.

Smell of success.

Well, it didn’t take long for the latest Iraq fantasy to start falling apart. The so-called “Anbar Awakening”, trumpeted by General David Petraeus as such an amazing success, is every bit the fraud you might have expected by this point. It took some intrepid reporting by people like Big Noise Films (featured on Amy Goodman’s Democracy Now!) to get a closer look at what is actually happening in that unhappy province, and it isn’t pretty. But then, ethnic cleansing never is. It seems some of the enlightened tribal leaders with whom we are now “allied” led an effort to drive more than 14,000 Shi’ite families out of Anbar and into some pretty miserable looking shantytowns on the outskirts of Baghdad – maybe 130,000 people in all expelled from their homes by the very people we’re glad-handing. Did our people know of this? A little hard to imagine they didn’t, since in one of the communities featured in the Big Noise report, the U.S. military group was headquartered in an abandoned Shi’a family household.

Here are the reports…

Part one

Part two

I must admit, I felt a little more than suspicious (irony) when the U.S. commander on the ground in the Big Noise piece referred to some of these ex-insurgents as “freedom fighters.” Last time we used that terminology was in reference to our terrorist armies in Afghanistan and Central America during the Reagan years. Of course, the reality of Iraq is much more complex than our government is willing to admit. Many of the people in Anbar played both sides of the conflict from the very beginning, alternately working for the U.S. occupation and fighting with the insurgents. (Patrick Graham’s report in the June 2004 Harper’s is enlightening on this point.) When the situation deteriorated into the current hell-disaster, it likely became a harder fence to cross over. The “Anbar Awakening” is something like a return to what was happening in those early days. Still plenty of killing going on – it’s just distributed a bit differently. And, of course, the poorest Iraqis are taking the biggest hits.

From Bush’s perspective – and that of a good many other people in American political culture – that in itself wouldn’t keep Iraq from being a success of sorts. Leaders of both the Republicans and the Democrats claim to be looking for signs of “progress”, meaning the emergence of effective leadership in Iraq that is both hostile to neighboring Iran and more generally compliant with our priorities in the region. Note that I didn’t say “popular” – that’s never really been the standard for success. They only reluctantly agreed to elections in 2004 when Ayatollah Sistani insisted upon it. In his own ham-fisted way, Bush underlined this fact at his news conference the other day, complaining that everyone is asking “Where is Mandela?” Aside from the peculiar fact that junior appears to think Nelson Mandela is dead, Bush is telegraphing his administration’s lack of enthusiasm for the emergence of a truly popular Iraqi leader, as well as its skepticism that such a person exists. (Let’s also forget the fact that, remarkable as he is, Mandela was kept alive by a massive popular movement that was itself the catalyst for change, and not always in a peaceful way.)

In any case, the Bush team (and Harry Reid) would really prefer Saddam – that is, pre-Kuwait Saddam, friend to the west, hated by his own people. That’s what puts the “suck” in success.

luv u,

jp

In the hole he goes.

Take five. One… two… three… quatro! No, no – stop. Wrong key, man. Totally wrong key. It’s the one around the back of the horn. You’re concentrating too much on those front keys.

Greetings and welcome to the house of dung and smog. Did I say “dung and smog”? I meant, sun and fog. Yes, the misty environs of the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill on a cool Saturday morn – ah, ’tis a sight to behold. A veritable feast for the senses, particularly the olfactory. That burning smell? That’s just us burning up the tape down here in our dungeon-like studio. (Maybe I did mean smog after all…) Okay… I am playing a little fast and loose with the facts. In this digital, nonlinear age, we have abandoned tape altogether and taken up the cudgel of cutting-edge recording technology – wax cylinders! No wait, not wax. Wire. Wire recording. Wild, wild new deal in tracking songs, mate! I heard all about it from the dude on the corner – the guy with half-a-boot. On his head.

I know, I know – he doesn’t know what he’s talking a-boot, right? Well… before you go there, listen up. Format doesn’t matter, friends. We’re mastering our first album in nearly ten years – a work fully four years in the making. If we got all concerned about formats, it would probably take us another four years. (Not sure this mill will be standing then.) And whether it be wire, wax, or some other widget, we’re preparing these fifteen songs for release, come hell or high water. And those of you familiar with the recording process know, this is the point in every project where you discover how far from finished you truly are. For instance, I’m having Marvin (my personal robot assistant) add a last-minute saxophone part to one song that… well… that just needed something. Something like a robot playing a saxophone. (Always helps. Just ask Captured by Robots.)

Speaking of robots playing saxophones, I hear that plucky Mars rover is still exploring major craters on the red planet. Pretty stubborn little critter. I always taunt Marvin with “Opportunity’s” record on the Martian surface – a foreboding place if ever there was one, take it from me. Anyway, Marvin’s a little sensitive about my rover-based teasing, because his brass skin is susceptible to the peculiar conditions of the Martian atmosphere. In fact, the last time we were there, we spent nearly as much time buffing the corrosion out of Marvin’s skin as we did setting up and tearing down from the gigs we played on Mount Olympus (tallest known peak in the solar system). Check it out, the rover “Spirit” has been on the planet for fully 1,290 Martian days. We were just barely there for two. What do you say to that, Marvin? Huh?

Bone mean, you say? Fuck, no. I’m just trying to get a good performance out of him. Sure, he barely knows how to hold a saxophone, but that has never stopped us before. No, Marvin. Swinging the saxophone at me won’t help. Mars Rover never had to attack its master!