post-it notes from the NO FUTURE: a wannabe writer in the beta: IT'S NOT JUST A PHASE I'M GOING THRU.




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wWednesday, June 08, 2005

let's get processed

more on my Romantic Autism TM soon. for now, events have overtaken...

and so, Saturday: ICFTHS goes to West St for one night only... now, we can't employ smoke or bubble machine - fire hazard business - so we fill the dark recesses of the club with yellow acid smiley balloons, matching yellow straws, stars and revolving police pursuit lights on the tables.

at 11:20 i am playing the first song of my second set. it is going well. D.A.I.S.Y. the deejay peecee, after two and a half years of service, chooses this moment to expire. the song sticks in one final purgatorial loop.

we threw the slider across, Drivey covered well enough, but frantic and increasingly elaborate attempts at recussitation died into silence. i explored the healing power of swear words, and when they failed, sulked for the remainder of the evening.

Drivey did a superhuman job, and the audience went home happy, but i didn't enjoy so much as a moment - locked out of my own club as it was happening ramped frustration levels to near-boiling. still, it was a success, is what matters - in face of adversity. yes. even when things go wrong. after, a party, drum&bass - both myself and Drivey fell asleep in silent protest.

Sunday was a hangover. have been reading Simon Reynolds' history of electronic dance music, which is interestingly socio-cultural as opposed to artistic/romantic and will feed very much into the next big interview i'm hopefully doing for Plan B. early eve, Drivey calls from bar, hasn't been bed, wants to know if i'll join them. i seriously consider it, until he adds, apropos of nothing, "...and you can email me the questions." i say: "questions?" he says: "i know it seeems like i'm sketching out, but..." and then giggles, unstuck from time. i picture a room full of twitching comedown cases, go for a soothing walk in rain instead.

Monday: they have installed autodiallers at work, excising the last outpost of free will in an increasingly depersonalized, automated regime. to make matters worse, reading has been banned. systems of control grow ever more efficient in the processing of souls, discarding workers' personalities and etc as so much husk...

if it wasn't for the sudden, dramatic expenditure necessitated by having to replace D.A.I.S.Y. (gone but not forgotten - say a binary prayer for her) i'd walk the hell out and not look back. as it is, i have to hold on thru the motions for just a couple more, couple more weeks.

posted by kicking_k at 11:12 am

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