"When you dream about bleeding...

it means you're embarassed," or so goes the song by Shockabilly. But what does it mean if you dream about Ron Metz, erstwhile drummer for the Human Switchboard, and Louis C.K., writer/director of "Pootie Tang," one of the finest surrealist works of the Noughties?



I remember I was once in the office of the New Music Distribution Service on lower Broadway, which took ages to get up to, because even though it was only on the third or fourth floor, the only way to gain access to it was via the slowest-moving elevator it's ever been my displeasure to use. I was sitting there idly watching the parking lot across the street, with its machines that lifted cars up and put them up on platforms like a giant warehouse forklift, and listening to this jazz drummer holding forth about his various opinions, including his extremely negative assessment of Ron Metz's skills. As it happens, this fellow suffered an untimely death*, so I'm not going to identify him here (e-mail me if you MUST know)...I am not ordinarily happy about people's passing, but any unhappiness that I might have felt was definitely tempered by this guy's fulminating. I dug Ron's playing, plus I always found him to be a decent guy.

Hey, here's a joke: Two drummers, Pete and Repete, are sitting on a log. Pete falls off; who's left? Repete! Two drummers, Pete and Repete, are sitting on a log. Pete falls off; who's left? Repete!

Also, I had a dream about clipping my toenails, and out from under one my nails, I pulled out a razorblade. I would not be offended if you said "Ick."

*In a way, all deaths are untimely, because if it's a decent person, they're gone too soon, and if it's a bastard, you think "What took so long?"

A Pretty Song by Julian Cope

Seriously, I find this really pretty. It starts out in some sort of Love/Faust hybrid territory, and then proceeds from there...it is also sort of topical.



Julian Cope, "Don't Call Me Mark Chapman," from his Album "Autogeddon"