Meet Metz

Canadia, our friendly neighbors to the north, have produced this fine little trio of musically oriented type individuals known collectively as Metz. Metz is currently travelling across Australia, the Great Down Under, and lining up gigs in China, aka nowhere near us, but because of scoring high on the awsome-o-meter, we present below today for your listening enjoyment their record stream, the record is called ‘ii’. and no I do not know how to pronounce that. Granted I haven’t been outside in nearly a decade and spend most of my time huddled up watching I Love Lucy reruns, but this wall-of-sound approach from The Metzes – particularly as a trio – is a delightful refreshment. Let’s note as well they are part of the SubPop family, which is probably neither here nor there, but then again, neither am I. Neither here nor there, that is. Ladies and gentlemen, The Metz:


ps. I continue to mull over whether ‘sexually attractive’ is a good name for a fake band. on the one hand – duh, yes – on the other hand – not sure how easy it would be to live with everyone’s constant disappointment.

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tree art on a walk

i went for a walk today and came across an old rusty chain that someone had coiled around and made to rise up off the ground, kind of like a cobra. i didn’t stop to look how it was done, I just wanted to think about it. it got me thinking about other things you could sculpt with rusty chains. would you weld the individual links? how would you “pose” the thing while you built it? how would you rust it out? would it be strong enough for children to play on? or other techniques, like applying an epoxy, or even encasing the whole thing in a transparent epoxy tube.

then it got me thinking about doing it to a tree – imagine a fine tree, maybe a mature oak, and then coiling an old rusty chain up around its trunk, and out across branches. then calling the whole thing, “government.” that’s poetic, right there.

that got me thinking about tree art – could you use huge tubes to force a tree to grow a certain shape, for instance could you entwine two trees together like a candy cane, and how many years would that take.

that’s what happens to me when I go for a walk by myself.

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On Art – a Pontification

Let’s talk about art for a moment, shall we? It all started today when I launched an app on my phone called Flipboard. It’s a content delivery app, and the topics to choose from was fascinating. I won’t go into it at the moment, other than to see it awakened in me a strange, inexplicable, primordial desire to key all of these topics into a database table. The list was truly impressive not only in its length, but in the fact that it had topics in it that I had never thought of being an interest, but now that you mention it – yeaHYEaaah … as a matter of fact I WOULD like to see a few articles about that. Everything from Calgary, to Botany, to gold, bicycle touring, programming languages, woodworking, freedom of expression, humanism, exeercise science, electrical grid. Geology. On and on and on … page after page. It really got me thinking about interests, and the concempt of simply sitting back and . Take “bicycle touring” – someone actually has to go outside, for weeks, and ride a bike somewhere, then come back and write some sort of article. They pour their lives into this bicycle tour. It consumes them 24 hours a day, it takes their sweat, etc. Then to actually write about it. All to be pushed out to my android phone so i can scan it for four seconds, or four minutes, be distracted, and then scroll (or “flip”) to the next one, where it all repeats. And I suppose that releases some sort of brain chemical that makes me feel like I’ve bicycle toured. Yet I havent. I’ve done nothing but be entertained. Maybe then I have some sort of wistful aching that I wish I were bicycle touring. But I won’t.

It got me thinking about my own interests. Something you’ll never see in a list. How about … screen scraping? I really like screen scraping. Lately I’ve liked banging out code in casperjs, consuming pages, saving them to disk, parsing them out some more with perl. I like the puzzle of deconstructing the page data. I like the casperjs api. I really like this stuff. I’ve never seen an article on it.

It got me thinking about writing (words), and banging away on a guitar. They evoke such different emotions. With a book – well, I can’t even imagine writing 200 pages, 300 pages, of a quality that another human being – let alone dozens, or hundreds, or thousands, or more – would ever want to read them all. On their own time. With a smile in their heart. What could you possibly write about? What is it about the great books I’ve enjoyed that suck me in, and get the pages turning? The topic? The storyteller? The content? The words? It’s so hard, and it’s got to be sustained for so long It’s a totally different vibe than music. With music- it’s a “vibe” – a rhythm – a mood – I can pick up a guitar and in four seconds – 2 seconds – probably transport you someplace enjoyable – something rocking. I can make it up on the spot. It’ll be cool. There will be no words though, not like writing. It’s not a “story,” it’s not information, it’s nothing words conveys. It’s just a beat, a riff, a mindset, a mood. Just six strings to choose from. It’s so much easier. Well, maybe to me it’s easier. Maybe to other people, writing is easier, or beating an egg, or parachuting. I don’t know. Or I can soften the chords, and instantly you’ll know, this is mellow, this is kick back with wine music.

But I’ve always liked to say, “im not a guitar player, im jsut an idiot with a guitar.” (these days im mostly just an idiot.) so maybe to write, you’ve just got to be an idiot with a typewriter. I used to think I liked to “approach a guitar” as if it’s the first time i’ve ever seen one, or played one, and see what happens. maybe it can be the same with a typewriter.

i suppose when we stand around watching an idiot play his guitar, or twiddle his thumbs, if it’s reasonably distracting, or engaging, or if we convey the word “good” or “interesting” to it, or at least “something i’ll stand here and watch for a few minutes more,” we’re letting that guy transport us much as we would a writer. maybe we like his craft, or his band, or maybe there’s a cute girl playing. i don’t know. maybe we like our heart to tap its toes every once in a while. Maybe we like the technology of it, or the fashion show.

and then it got me thinking about the “save” button. just stop and really think about the “save” button. what is it we’re doing when we click it. why would we want to just “save” anything. when we stop and write something, we don’t expect it to jsut disappear when we’re done writing it. we want to “save it.” we want it to persist, forever i suppose. that’s a lot of pressure. so why don’t you just open notepad, or textedit, or an actual piece of paper, and write some stuff. then just – close it. dump it without saving. why not. there’s something about that save button.

and that got me thinking about email. email versus face to face interaction. email is like this – writing something down, crafting each word, getting it all on paper, then sticking it on the table and running away. then your friend, the guy you wrote it to, comes around the corner, stops at the table, and reads it. and then maybe he reads it again. and then he writes his response, and leaves it on the table. he can’t see my face, i can’t see his face, i’m not really there when he reads it, and he’s not there when I read it. then he walks away, and I come back, and I stop and read what he wrote me. and this goes back and forth. and that’s kind of why i mostly hate email. why not just go talk to the guy? what is it that’s so addicting about crafting emails, about wondering if i’ve struck the right tone, that i’m saying right things. in conversation – in real conversation – you mostly just let it fly.

anyways, that’s a lot to happen for just opening the flipboard app. impressive list of topics.

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Trip Report: The Other Kind of Drilling

The Well

Every once in a while I clamber down from my ivory towered headquarters at launchday inc and intermingle with you, the great unwashed. Last week was one such event and let me tell you, the fresh air and sunshine nearly killed me.

I plunked my benjamins onto the countertop and bought a roundtrip ticket to destiny. Hey, guess what – apparently there’s a whole world out there.

The country was called “guatemala” which i thought was some sort of fruit or melon but no it’s a whole country.

According to the guidebook i read on the flight, apparently it used to be full of people, then the spanish came in the 1500s and killed all the people. Now its a mix of spanish and those people, whose ruins in those jungle attract the tourists.

But that’s not why we were there.

We were there for destiny. One tall order of destiny, please, with a side of rice.

So – imagine this. you’re born. and you live in a thing, like a house or a hut or whatever. And all your life you get water from some dirty creek. And sure yes sometimes that doesn’t go well. People being people, that dirty creek gets used for all kinds of things.

To illustrate, more people die of diarrhea each year than AIDS.

So i connected with a team of folks to go somewhere like the above and do what i could to fix it. Call it a random act of kindness. When you make about a dollar a day, and you get paid about six months out of the year, you just can’t afford that 2nd SUV like you can here in the states. Or the plumbing infrastructure. The challenge is tangible – they dont even have cable. I do. So i decided to clamber down etc etc and go somewhere and actually do something.

And one thing I learned (queue the theme music) is that people are really nice. It’s not just about water (or whatever it is you’re into), its about (wait for it) humanity. One little human at a time. You pull up in some random community some where, get out, and boom – mobbed by a bunch of little kids. Apparently – and I didn’t realize this – but apparently they’re people too.

So there’s this organization that’s good at drilling wells in out of the way areas, and they’re kind enough to let people like me (high powered fancy-suited control freaks pulling the strings of commerce, etc) go on some of their trips and do some work with them. One community at a time, they’re sinking wells – very simple hand-pumped wells – and giving folks a chance at some clean water.

And while the well is a pretty good excuse to go – and heaven knows how much fun it is playing with someone else’s extremely expensive portable drilling rig – when you’re there, it becomes more about the peeps, which was weird. I’m more used to using fellow humans as stepping stones, not actually interacting with them.

And i’ll tell you what, fellow americans. We may have the color-coded set of mercedes and track suits, but they have something we’ll never have. And i don’t even know what it’s called. Probably: each other.

1. the team
The rag tag team of ruffians I hooked up with were from my small group at church. (remember churches? me neither. small groups? nope.) These are weird people. They do things like go to prisons and help inmates. Or go to mexico and build houses. Or go to guatemala and build wells. Bunch of whack jobs. One of them started a little charitable organization for chicks to ditch the pedicures and facials (snicker) and give the money to the well instead. So she spearheaded “raising funds” whatever that means, people chipped in, and once that happened, we all wanted to go build the sucker because – how can you not. About 8 grand to put a well in, people. Let’s face it, my lunch yesterday cost more than that. (Not that I’d skip it to put a well in.)

2. the organization
its water.cc, or “living water international.” These are the guys working around the globe putting wells in. They’re smart, and they have cool toys. water.cc/trips – with a couple clicks you can be hooked up with one of these trips. I double dog dare you.

3. the community
we ended up in a place called Masagua. Could have been anywhere. The last time I did one of these, we ended up in a place called Nicaragua. (Also not a fruit, rather an entire country. I’m telling you people, who knew these things were out there??) you’re going down a road, then you’re going down some other road, and it’s made of dirt, then you keep going, then you’re there.

4. the well
the well itself is (surfer voice) “pretty cool, man”. You dig, then you shovel some mud, then you send a drill bit down a 100 feet or so, then you do it again, then you dig some more mud, then you lug some gravel around in wheel barrows, some other stuff happens then you’re done. along the way you work with the “dudes,” the locals who shovel way better than you and work harder than you and who mostly keep you from killing yourself with tools. plus they’ll occasionally pull down a coconut for you chop it with a machete and let you drink it. muchas gracias senor – muchas gracias.

5. the chocolate and the coffee
final note here. respect to guatemala. i got a chance to do a little poking around in a city called antigua, and let me tell you. this country takes its coffee and chocolate seriously, and ive got one word for that – respect.

The Well

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Meet ‘Hanni El Khatib’

There needs to be a word for feeling you get when an artist you’ve been digging but been to lazy to look up tour dates for, then you finally look up tour dates, and he played 30 minutes from your house – LAST NIGHT – and isn’t scheduled to return, ever. THAT’S the feeling I had a few moments ago for Hanni El Khatib. (Edit – Ha! I HAVE seen this guy. We caught him at the glass house opening for someone. Thanks to mrs launchday – a dear woman i lovingly refer to as the bride of frankenstein – for this morsel.) His music gets all seven of my toes tapping and my blackened charcoal heart a-thumpin every time he hits my ears. AAAAaaand of course he played here yesterday. Nobody tells me anything.

Here’s a great song from his 2013 record Head in the Dirt, which, if you’re on amazon prime, you can stream the record for free there.

He’s from San Fran but lives in LA now, and I can’t figure out for the life of me what label he’s on (do the kids even do “labels” anymore). Here’s another one of his tracks from that same session –

He’s got a new record out, he’s touring, catch him if you can. Oh btw his videos are totally awesome filthy so i had to work pretty hard to find the above cleancuts.

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Meet ‘Viet Cong’

So here’s a little segment where I share awesome music with you. This is Viet Cong, and my local college radio station was playing them on my drive home tonight, and it was rad enough that I whipped out Shazam on that puppy and bought it on the internetmusicbox thing. They have a new record out (thats the good news) and they’re touring basically all year but (here’s the bad news) they already came and went through socal. But if you live in Norway or France, you’re in luck. Let’s face it, if you live in Norway, you’re always in luck, aren’t you.

Viet Cong is from Calgary (no way eh), and they’re on a label called JagJaguwar ( had to read that a few times), and apparently that is based in Bloomington. Is Bloomington still in Illinois, or Indiana, or somewhere over THERE (pointing to my left. My far, far left)? I was not aware that Bloomington had a record label, but there you go. with little gems like the viet congs, i wish them all the luck in the world.

btw i liked their little press release on pitchfork about their name, which I’ll just paste below.

Our band, Viet Cong, has existed for a little over three years now. When we named ourselves, we were naive about the history of a war in a country we knew very little about. We now better understand the weight behind the words Viet Cong. While we don’t take any concerns about the name lightly, we feel it is important to let you know that we never meant to trivialize the atrocities or violence that occurred on both sides of the Vietnam War. We never intended for our name to be provocative or hurtful.

We truly appreciate the seriousness of the feedback we’ve received, and we will continue to be open to listening to issues and concerns from all perspectives.

With love from the band Viet Cong.

Here’s another one of their songs.

[soundcloud]https://soundcloud.com/jagjaguwar/vietcong-continental-shelf[/soundcloud]

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My Buddy Billy

Back in the old days – I mean waaaaay back, when people read things called “newspapers” – or hell, when people read, period – I, perhaps in eery predilection of my current creepy habit of pacing the ivory-towered headquarters of Launch Day Inc back and forth all night, nervously polishing the ash trays every 20 steps precisely – wait I forget what I was saying. I think I was just trying to say I used to clip newspaper articles. And I just unearthed one of these clippings (don’t ask) from May 23, 1993, a short little diddy from a former Chief Justice of blah blah blah William Rehnquist giving a speach (a “speach” is a peachy speech btw, patent pending) to the bright eyed and bushy tailed graduates of George Mason University, named of course after the great George Mason, purveyor of those precious white man wigs (whigs?) of which I cannot be seen in public WITHOUT. Also tampons. Anyways, this is what old Billy R had to say, so try to put down your gameboys and ho hos for a minute and pay attention retard, this is important:

“Another way to look at life is as a shopping mall – not the usual kind where goods are purchased with money, but one where items such as worldy success, love of music, a strong backhand, close relationships with your family, a few good friends and countless other things are on sale. The commodity with which they are purchased is not money, but time. And as we have seen, contrary to the capitalist system of money and goods, every one of us has exactly the same amount of time in each hour, in each day, in each year. Bear in mind this message from the older generation to your younger one: The most priceless asset that can be accumulated in the course of any life is time well spent.” – Billy “William” Rehnquist

Wait, wazzat? Rewind. Back that mother up. Did someone just say, “close relationships with your family?” Ha ha, remember those? Families? It almost seems like old Billy was saying – and this is shocking to me – that pursuing a strong backhand – which has so far been my life’s defining work let’s face it whose isnt’ – may not be all that important after all? And that we are all on equal footing in regards to the purchasing power of one of our most treasured and misspent of precious resources – our – our – OUR TIME?? Where does money fit into all this? Where’s the part where you get to whine in that annoying little voice of yours about how much money someone else has?

Here’s one more quote from billy –

“Ideas with which we disagree – so long as they remain ideas and not conduct which interferes with the rights of others – should be confronted with argument and persuasion, not suppression.” – Old Billy “William” Rehnquist

Wait – argument and persuasion? What are those? That doesn’t sound funny. But I’m going to try to remember that the next time someone says something I don’t like. Or maybe I’ll go one up on it, and simply try to put myself in their shoes, and understand their point.

Anyways. Thanks Billy, for the reminder. Quite a speach.

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The Quit Coffee Project – Day 30 of 30

Singing “weeeee are the chaaaampions … something something…”

Here in the ivory towered headquarters of launch day inc, responding to new market needs is what we do. Finger on the pulse of society and all that. And somehow embroiled in all of that we (third person plural) undertook, more or less on a whim (whimsy, the preferred tool of the powerful), anyways we quit coffee for thirty days. and we (third person plural again) did. more or less.

thats right folks, for thirty days, four thursdays ago, we quit. we started the Quit Project.

Spending the first week or two curled in a fetal ball, devising new techniques for combating the basest and most pedestrian of medical conditions – the throbbing headache – we slowly reached a zen sea of tranquility, harnessing the kinetic power of such long-forgotten artifacts of bygone times such as “walking”, and “sleeping” – to redefine the chemical pathways in that most abused of modern wetware, the human brain.

this achievement however comes with a most significant asterisk. A stain, if you will, on this supposedly great feat. A performance enhancing drug, most certainly. A hair of the dog, in fact – coffee. A lone, single cup per day. I combated coffee with coffee.

All that to say, I took a cup a day for thirty days. And as i cast myself onto the trash heap of asterisk’ed flunkies like barry bonds, mark mcgwire, um, mark mcgwire, and barry bonds, oh and lance, i suppose, but let me just say in my defense that it was different in this era, everybody was doing it, i thought it was cocoa, etc etc.

but really. i won’t go into details but lets just say my daily intake, before the Quit Project, was significant. so i’ll take the win.

also, tea. My heart felt thanks to the kind hearted folks at Twining. Lapsong Souchong (the best tea nooone’s ever heard of), and Earl Grey (Gray? Grey?) were subtler, kinder, replacements.

Also – Dandy blend. The strangest little powdered concoction containing, as i read the label here in my mahogony-paneled board room, “extracts of roasted barley, rye, chicory root, dandelion root, and beet root.” whatever. stick it in my cup, add hot water, choke it down. good enough for grampa, good enough for me.

Thank you, good night.

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Quitting Coffee: Day 20 of 30

I’m still holding strong. Shakes have stopped. Eyes able to focus. Colors mostly retain their vibrancy.

Still at one cup of coffee per day, taken in the morning, in a ceramic mug. Occasional pain killers in the form of ibuprofen, tylenol, or aspirin.

Feedback has included, “you seem way less stressed out,” which I don’t know what to do with. I can manufacture more stress if it’s missed.

Occasional nights of continuous sleep.

In the name of science, I continue.

Also, the word of the day is, “kaizen.” google it yourself. i learned of it reading about a swede that runs a junk shop.

Thank you good night.

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Quitting Coffee, Day 6 of 30

I’m still getting mild headaches so I’m still doing a single cup of the black juice a day. Also some tylenol will be in order shortly.

Feel a little sluggish. I miss my old poisonous pal. But overall things are fine. I can still see straight, the world is still spinning (I think!). Also one unanticipated side effect is I think I’m sleeping better. Usually the midnight beast awakens and we prowl the cold dark hallways of LaunchDay Inc’s ivory tower headquarters alone with the cleaners and our thoughts, but not this week. Just sawing logs.

The Ibuprofen has little if any effect. Will try tylenol. different pain pathway.

To be continued. Thank you good night.

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