COT 2 - ELECTRIC BLOGALOO

Go See Deke or You're A Dick... Alright ya dang yo...

2007-02-27T13:22:00.000-08:00

Go See Deke or You're A Dick...
Alright ya dang yokels...Deke Dickerson (if I have to tell you who that is, disregard the rest of this blog) is a playin' THIS FRICKIN' THURSDAY at Johnny B's in Medford, OR (35 S. Bartlett)! That's March 1st! And it's only EIGHT BUX! Go...or wait around 'til Saint Patrick's Day and go see the geriatric-faux Irish "Shamrock Show" in Yreka that cost 10 BUX! Can you fucking believe that? Deke Dickerson for 8 BUX. A bunch of fucking losers in Yreka for 10 BUX! What's this world coming to? Oh, and make sure you also attend The Gallus Bros. (from Seattle) with Screamin' Gulch on SATURDAY! Look up the Gallus Bros...if yer not impressed, you're a dork! As ever, your U.D.O., FELIX

LIVE FRICKIN' MUSIC! Hey ya'll...yer a-missin' out...

2007-02-09T15:28:00.000-08:00

LIVE FRICKIN' MUSIC!
Hey ya'll...yer a-missin' out on some grrreat live music at Johnny B's in Medford OR (35 South Bartlett St.). Tonight...Friday, February 9th...at 8:00...is the all-female bluegrass powerhouse known as the Flat Mountain Girls (and, not to be a perv, but they're HOT). Also, making one of their rare appearances is the Hillbilly fever of Screamin' Gulch. Get yer ass down there and drink Pabst on tap. Mention this blog and I'll even buy you a shot of bourbon! AND Monday, the 12th, the garage-rockin' mayhem of The Bloody Hollies (cool name!) and the Hollowbodys. So slick up yer hair and support live music that doesn't suck. As ever, yer Luke the Drifter, FELIX

HOOTENANNY! Hey ya'll, good news (I hope) to repor...

2007-01-26T15:59:00.000-08:00

HOOTENANNY!
Hey ya'll, good news (I hope) to report. I'm organizing a weekly Hootenanny featuring ROckabilly, Country/Honky TOnk, Americana, etc. at The Vinyl Club in Ashland Oregon. Every frickin' Wednesday! Starting next (or, uh, THIS) Wednesday. I'm not supposed to tell anyone (because of Oregon law prohibiting such promotions) but all well drinks are only two damn dollars! So come to play, come to listen, come to drink or whatever. The ol' shindig will be kicking off at 9:00 p.m. Send me a damn e.mail if you want to play.

The Continuing (Mis)Adventures of Joey Nova... Joe...

2007-01-23T14:14:00.000-08:00

The Continuing (Mis)Adventures of Joey Nova...
Joey Nova is a good Agent, Fnords. I especially love how he spends whatever free time he has (when he's not talking to his girlfriend on the phone or "texting" her) filing down pennies to the size of dimes to stick in parking meters. Very anti-establishment...or is it? Maybe he's just a tight-fisted wop! Ha! Either way, he cracks me up...and since he never reads my blogs there's no chance of him becoming a "moody wop" from reading this. I love him, though, seriously. Who else will go record shopping with me for hours? Here's what I done purchased lately (as if you care).
1. Hanoi Rocks - Two Steps From The Move
2. Christian Death - Only Theatre of Pain
3. Rudimentary Peni - Death Church
4. Tuxedomoon - Desire
5. Judas Priest - Stained Class
YOU MUST OWN ALL OF THESE ALBUMS. Or have them burned for you by an obliging soul. Anyway, speking of music. Here I am in fucking Hickspew County. Some girl on myspace was professing her love for Duran Duran. 20 years ago that would have aroused my contempt...but these days...hey, at least it's not My Chemical Romance. So I sent her a message telling her I like(d) Arcadia more. And I liked the Neurotic Outsiders even more. You'd think that would solicit a response...not around here. This place must have as many Duran Duran fans as it has volunteer firefighters and crankheads. My insights into the '80s pop phenomenon and blatant Japan (the band) ripoffs Duran Duran were evidently not appreciated. So goes life in the great northwest. As ever, your Only Theatre Of Pain, F.E.L.I.X.

Illegal Fucking Leopard, Man... So here I am at a ...

2007-01-22T16:25:00.000-08:00

Illegal Fucking Leopard, Man...
So here I am at a place called The Oracle in Weed. It's a cafe. And a restaraunt. And (sort of) an art gallery. I need a headquarters for Sunday and Monday and Saturday after 3 and every frickin' day after 5. I'm not sure about this place. It's, uh, kinda hippy (or at least what passes for hippy these days). The Beats hated the hippies. At least Kerouac and Burroughs did. Because most hippies think that they're intellectuals by osmosis. And to prove my point I already overheard one conversation regarding books here that nauseated me to the core of my soul. Something along the lines of: "I don't want to go to college, man. They make you read too many books." Yeah. That's why (for better or worse) going to college is considered getting an education. Reading won't help you pull chicks (trust me...not anymore anyway). It won't even make you friends (trust me). It won't make you happy. But it might (and should) make you more intelligent and interesting (at least to me). And it might assist you in being able to locate fucking Tibet on a goddamn map (uh, so if someone like me asks you where Tibet is because you have a "free Tibet" sticker on your Volvo). Oh well. I can't judge this place immediately. But they don't boil the water for their tea (badbadbad). And, for people so "earthy", what's the deal with the silly fucking quasi ancient/futuristic "ambient" music they all seem to love so much. Oh yeah...The Beats. They hated the hippies (except GInsberg), mostly I think because they didn't read. But most backpacking beard-growing wannabe hippies who read Jack Kerouac don't even know that. Probably because they don't read anymore than they comprehend the thriftstore Kerouac books that take up space on their shelves. Oh well. What do I expect anyway? So I just got back from fucking civilizaiton (a/k/a/ Sonoma County) AGAIN. Pretty uneventful. Unless you count listening to Public Enemy's "Fear of a Black Planet" over and over and over and over again while one Agent Joey Nova took nappys and talked to his girlfriend on the phone for three fucking hours! Oh well...boy and girl stuff...what is one to do? Bollocks to haircut punk. As ever, your Rich Daddy, Felix.

Report. What a short strange trip it's been. Final...

2007-01-15T10:00:00.000-08:00

Report.
What a short strange trip it's been. Finally I was able to get out of squareass Siskiyou County for a spell...to pick up The Artist Formerly Known As Trish (who has just flown in from North Carolina). AND to spend some time with uberAgent Joey Nova. Normally, Joe and myself would have been half way through a four day whiskey jag by now. But we are to old to drink in such excess. And Joe has finally got himself a girlfriend...who I like (especially since she yelled "Cunty Cunts" at some rather obnoxious girls who were yelling at me from their parked car). So last Saturday we went to see D.'s band...and Forie's...and Jason's...and Mike's (The Harrington Saints)at the Gilman. Aren't we a little old for the Gilman. No! And there was Patrick (who is building a boat and sailing to Mexico to remove himself from Operation Mindfuck America). And there was Damon. And D. has a girlfriend now (somehow) that is so much cooler than he is. I told her about the Hank Williams tattoo I'm-a-gonnna get...and now SHE wants a Hank Williams tattoo. And also playing were The Lucky Stiffs (featuring one Tones Bones formerly of BUrnside). And Those Unknown (featuring of course Working Class Bill and NOW Joe Carr!) and another band that I can't for the life remember the name of with Gabe from Tsunami Bomb and Chris formerly of my favorite of all my mates' bands, Shut Up Donny. So it was like this big weird semi old guy punk reunion. And none of us really expected to see the others of us...which, of course made it cool. And I haven't been to the Gilman honestly since they opened the Pyramid brewery. And Pyramid ale tastes way way way better on tap than in the bottle. AND Garren Hitchcock Hanon and Kim actually drove all the way down from Skeezy-Ass Clear Lake (with two students from Garren's class). It was just a weird and semi-magical night. Without, by the way, all the fake punk posing that keeps me away from almost everything. Then we met Trish and Other Rachel at the stupid fucking Zeitgeist in San Francisco. How ironic: "Zeitgeist"...spirit of the age. And there are a bunch of so-called punks watching the fucking football playoffs. It just seems people are more into being seen than actually doing anything these days. Which, of course, makes me think back to Other Rachel who admittedly is "selling out". ANd then last night...so one certain Agent/friend of mine could hang out with his girlfriend who he never gets to see (it's a long story that I've been listening to for three days now)...I decided to give them some space and drink a few pints at Jasper O' Farrels in Sebastapol. If you want to know how I feel about Sebastapol, you need merely consult "Who Do They Think They're Fooling..." in the Unfathomable Misc. section on this here website. Some fairly decent Reggae band was playing so I drank several pints. And I waited for one Joey Nova to come pick me up in the frigid fucking air while I was standing around on the street (after the bars closed) looking like a male prostitute. Anyway...snapshot-snapshot. Now I will torture Joey Nova with Lorne Greene sings songs of the Ponderosa. As ever, your Ballad of Yreka, F.E.L.I.X.

What Do They Know About Partying...Or Anything Els...

2007-01-02T22:19:00.000-08:00

What Do They Know About Partying...Or Anything Else For That Matter?

So anyway...I guess my Blog Stalker is gone for the moment. Most of you C.O.T. Agents and Spies probably have no ideer about what I'm a-talkin' about. Some disgruntled Evil Weevil read something I wrote who knows when and responded rudely saying that I'm not a good "Trotskyist" (actually, TrotskyITE is the preferred nomenclature) because I don't like single mothers (or something). FIRST I've never said (or written) anything negative about mothers (single or otherwise) EVER. But some people will misinterpet whatever suits their mood or agenda...even (and sometimes especially) if it's wrong. Remember Tipper Gore? I AM against procreation by morons! For fuck's sake we're being outbreeded. I guess it doesn't matter now, it's too late. People like me will fade out which should make most people happy. I can accept that. OH...there was something in there about me needing to "get out" of Siskiyou County. DUH! Of course, I left here ummm...15 years ago. Maybe if the person actually read what was on the C.O.T. site they'd have a basic understanding of what I've been doing. Which isn't snorting crank in Etna and listening to Limp Bizkit. Anyway...I don't care. My presence is only required here for three more weeks. Unless a get a certain job I'm kind of considering. But why stick around in a place that's threatened by me. Like I'm the biggest asshole around here. Not the rednecks. Not the "rescue natiom" douchebags! Not the former (and present) corrupt cops who re-enter into civil service. Not dumbshit hairdressers who want to keep Siskiyou County a welfare state. NOt Tori Amos-listening "sensitive" guys. Not speedfreaks. NO...I'm the worst thing/person anyone has to confront around here. No...not some dickhead snowboarder/extreme sports clat, not some racist hick, not some peach fuzz mustachioed wal-mart jewelry counter 14kt gold chain wearing over their wifebeater shirt and baggy pants wearing wannabe. NO...ME! Welcome to my world, Agents. Thank the supreme deity of your choice one The Artist Formerly Known As Trish is a-comin' to visit. Maybe I should listen to my friends and laugh (like they do...at me...getting shit). I do laugh. Sometimes. But sometimes I just polish my guns and listen to Scandinavian Black Metal. And sometimes I just leave town every single fucking day. Oh poor me. bOO Hoo. "you just don't see the positive" some assfuck will say. Yeah, as evidenced by the content on C.O.T. (.com). Maybe THEY don't see ME. bECAUSE they'll be forced to wonder why they're such cowardly fucks! Ha. Now I'm laughing. Ha Ha Ha. See...I can be a babykins too. I really don't care. Viva the collaboration between Phil Spector and the Ramones. Viva Sylvia Plath. Viva French New Wave cinema. Viva girls with bellies! Viva a properly poured pint. And death to poseurs! As ever, your Great Satan the Bottling Works Mall, F.E.L.i.X

SCREAM BLOODY GORE! Howdy AGAIN C.O.T. Agents (and...

2006-12-01T12:21:00.000-08:00

SCREAM BLOODY GORE!
Howdy AGAIN C.O.T. Agents (and Spies). The results are in: now, for the fourth consecutive month, more than 10,000 peope have come to visit www.churchonthursday.com. That means (if'n yer an Agent) your work is being read (or at least looked at). That also means that C.O.T. is finally catching on (at least a little bit). And why wouldn't it? What when there's fun for the entire family to be found! It is almost time for PHASE III (which I assure you will be well worth the wait). And, it will only be a few more weeks until I'll have the time to do some serious updating...adding new Agents and new work by old Agents. And just when you thought this schtick was getting tired, you will find it's not a schtick at all. Ha! And secrets secrets secrets. As ever, Your Keeper of the Seven Keys, FELIX

We are off to the witch... Anyway, I keep getting ...

2006-11-21T07:21:00.000-08:00

We are off to the witch...
Anyway, I keep getting e.mails telling me to update the damn blog. And I should (since Rhinestone Charley Allen actually went to the trouble of setting this dang ol' thing up fer me). See, there is nothing for me to report Agents (and Spies) that won't get me in a whole lot of trouble...at least for another month or so. Let me just say that I'm a busy weasel. You will be illuminated. BUT, if you must have some news...any news...won't get me in trouble news...then here's what I've a-been up to.
1. Listening to New Wave of British Heavy Metal. Angel Witch! And especially Paul Di'Anno-era Iron Maiden. And other non-NWOBHM like Flotsam and Jetsam (who have the stupidest lyrics I've ever read/heard (even for a metal band). And Accept! And I've also been listening to a lot of crossover from the mid-eighties: G.B.H. and Discharge and Agnostic Front. See, I told you that you would care less. Or did I?
2. Watching the Hammer horror films. A really great British film studio of the earlier half of the last century.
3. Reading Robert E. Howard.
4. Oh, and the poetry of Franz Wright.
5. And drinking various "Holiday Blend" coffees.
6. And writing...and writing. And finishing my art book.
Here have a Franz Wright poem:

FINE PRINT
Look at the hand you've drawn
the corpse of diamonds
for the third time.

As ever, your Last in Line, F.

Howdy C.O.T. Agents (and Spies)! The print issue o...

2006-11-07T09:44:00.000-08:00

Howdy C.O.T. Agents (and Spies)!
The print issue of C.O.T. is on hold infefinitely because I'm re-focusing my energies on a project that should have been finished two years ago. NOW IT WILL BE DONE! Er, I hope you don't see what I see when I look at this damn Blog. I see a big empty space that makes me want to hurt birds and other small animals. DECEMBER IS THE MONTH THAT ALL WILL BE REVEALED! Until then, as ever your Angel Witch, F.E.L.I.X.

HAS IT BEEN A FRICKIN' MONTH? Yep, I reckon so, C....

2006-09-20T18:04:00.000-07:00

HAS IT BEEN A FRICKIN' MONTH?
Yep, I reckon so, C.O.T. Agents and Spies. Well, some new news to report. The print issue of C.O.T. has been delayed until Oct. 1st. Want a copy (without relying on Poetic Terrorist Tactics employed by moi)? Well, e.mail me, Fnords, and I'll send ya a damn copy. But yer deadline is THIS FRICKIN' WEEKEND! Other news: C.O.T. Agents may be a-poppin' up and, just as likely, disappearing. Historians will refer to what I'm about to do as The Great C.O.T. Culling of '06. Yep! That means that Agents who have proved themselves, in fact, to be Evil Weevils (or Spies) or otherwise unsatisfactory to The Supreme Anarchist Council will suddenly disappear (just like in real life) from C.O.T. All that will be left will be a gap between #00? and #00? As for those of you who will be culled, you deserve it! Good Agents have nothing to worry about. Why, you may be wondering, would I do this...because I feel like it. Not that many Agents will fall viction to The Great Culling...yet. Ha! Anway...print issue with all sorts of useless information will be coming yer way...very very soon. Morevover, once my practically impossible to prove secret mission is over you will hear much much much more from me. Phase II is near. That is all for now. Your Night of Serious Drinking, Felix

HAS IT BEEN A FRICKIN' MONTH? Yep, I reckon so, C....

2006-09-20T18:04:00.000-07:00

Back In Black (and White) Okay...to celebrate me o...

2006-08-14T00:30:00.000-07:00

Back In Black (and White)
Okay...to celebrate me only having, like, four more months in this freaking sinkhole, Church On Thursday will be appearing in print again (this time for sure)!!! I'm not sure what's so fucking special that you're going to read in the print edition that you can't find right here...but maybe something. Most likely how I just bought a nice collection of Artaud's writings...and, at last, the George Jones semi-autobiography...and a Saw-Weet compendium of the Werewolf By Night comics Marvel put out in the 1970's to keep myself entertained because Siskiyou Countians are such booooooring fucks! You will here more hear...or, uh, hear more here, Agents (and Spies). To be a part of the print issue, put your fucking writing where your mouth is (no, not there) and send it to me before telling me all about it. I'm sick of listening to people talk and talk and talk about what they're going to do which they usually never really end up doing (espcially since I'm in Y-Hicka...the Slack Ass capital of the Universe). As ever, your MX-80, F.E.L.I.X.

The End of Another Era... Well, Yreka Wins! (I gue...

2006-07-31T12:43:00.000-07:00

The End of Another Era...
Well, Yreka Wins! (I guess...if you consider being a bunch of fucking losers winning). The Swingin' Doors (my Honky Tonk band) is callin' it quits! No more live music of the non-Staind, Butt Rockin' variety (or neo-folk-sing-about-what-you-had-for-breakfast wank). Oh well. We done tried playing the live music in Y-Hicka...and we did...and it sucked arse. Well, I guess if I had a GED and was a recovering meth addict and had an IQ of about 65 and had three kids (not goats, children), and I was as common as muck, I probably wouldn't be all that enthused about some Honky Tonk band playing songs I'd never heard of and I suspect of being way more hip than I could handle (I would only suspect because my worthless life would lack the "cultural" experience needed to affirm said hipness). Oh well. Birth...School...Work...Death. Nobody (who doesn't do anything interesting) likes it when someone does something interesting...it's threatening. So I'm going to leave them alone for the last six months I'm here. I'll just read Robert E. Howard and watch Futurama and wait for time here to expire. What a bunch of boring fucking people. It even made Joey Nova quite depressed...though that's not so hard. At least one Joe Burkus (and posse) had open enough minds to let us try to bring joy to the shattered lives in Y-Hicka...Hey, like Casey Stengal said, "they said it couldn't be done but it don't always work". I guess I should count myself lucky that I'm not saddled down with three kids (not goats, human children) and I don't have a meth habit...or maybe, ignorance is bliss. I don't know and I don't care. It is like The Honorable Reverend Garren Hanon spake: "Yrekans are the greatest non-participants in the world"...The same Honorable Reverend Garren Hanon who did NOT come hang out with me and Joey Nova because of dinner plans. I don't blame him...Yreka is a depressing spectacle. Uh, what else...um...oh, just one more time. What is the deal with the predominately white population of Siskiyou COunty being so into so-called Hip-Hop? They even listen to the suck-ass commercial stuff! Does the urban inner city's tales of hard luck really speak to these dumb-asses? Or is it just further evidence of the dumbing-down of America? I think I know. But they don't! At least listen to good hip-hop...it's out there...I think. Oh well...fuck them and fuck this place. I'd be resentful and apathetic if I couldn't escape here, too. As ever, your Moe Bandy, FELIX

AS I FRICKIN' PROMISED...HONKY-TONK NITE PIX FER...

2006-06-26T23:13:00.000-07:00

AS I FRICKIN' PROMISED...HONKY-TONK NITE PIX FER YER ENJOYMENT!

HONKY TONK NITE RECAP, etc. Sooooooo, one more Tue...

2006-06-15T07:35:00.000-07:00

HONKY TONK NITE RECAP, etc.
Sooooooo, one more Tuesday Honky Tonk Nite under our damn belts (@ The Miner St. Pub in YREKA). That makes...uh...four, so far. Yep! And it woulda been a pretty dang good one if it weren't fer the fact that the damn drummer we THOUGHT we had decided NOT to show up and when I called his frickin' MOTHER IN LAW picked up the phone and told me he was somewheres below Redding. Needless to say...HE'S OUT. And IN is one Steve. I told ya'll, I ain't fucking around no more! Or maybe I didn't (tell ya'll). STILL much fun was to be had (well, at least as much fun as one can have in YREKA on a damn Tuesday night. I'll tell ya'll who was there. A very nice looking but quiet couple (what a Romantic way to spend an evenin'...listenin' to me sing songs about killing chicks and drinkin' one's self to death). One tattooed guy...who I THINK liked the Honky Tonk. The only time he left the bar was to purchase tickets for our dman REDNECK RAFFLE. Uh...my seeester. And Wendy C. Stuck. And that one chick. And C.J. (of course). And some dudes I don't know. And this guy Travis who got up and sang some damn Haggard with us and churned out a decent version of "Georgia On A Fast Train" with us a-backin' him. And one not-too-drunk Andy (who vowed never to return to HONKY TONK NITE as he got staggerin' drunk the last time...but, obviously, could not resist the allure of the HONKY TONK NITE). And, Jimbo,...who had a BEER FUND tip jar fer his upcoming wedding. And Bill and LIZ from the oft-mentioned VILLAGE GRIND CAFE and ESPRESSO BAR. It was Bill's Birthday. And JOE BURKUS, of course, but I'm-a-gonna get to him later. And...hell, to be honest I don't rightly recall the rest. Anyway...this time (as part of our REDNECK RAFFLE) we done raffled off a bottle of Sauza Tequila. AND DANG OL' JOE BURKUS DONE WON IT AGAIN! But this time there was no crazy drunk Indian staring me down on account of Joe's diabolical victory. Of course, Joe just poured everybody shots out of his victory bottle and made a coupla chicks Margeritas (I done mispelled that) and then gave the dang bottle to the tattooed guy who never left the bar except for to buy raffle tickets. I was in a pissy mood because our damn drummer done left...but I had a dang hoot anyhow. Well...before I get to ramblin' too much more, let me show ya'll our dang HONKY TONK NITE playlist. Now, this is just the damn "DJ" portion of Honky TOnk NITE which just takes place between us a-playin'. Like when we have to take a damn break so I can fix my hair or somethin'. Here it is:
1. Merle Haggard - Wishing All These Old THings Were New
2. Loretta Lynn - One's On THe Way
3. The Statler Bros. - Flowers On The Wall
4. George Jones - WHo Shot Sam
5. THe Highwaymen - Highwayman
6. Johnny Cash - One Piece At A TIme
7. Willie Nelson & George Jones - I Gotta Get Drunk
8. Willie Nelson - Shotgun WIllie
9.The Blasters - I'm Shakin'
10. Waylon - THe Dukes of Hazzard
11. Sheb Wooley - That's My Pa
12. Jerry Jeff Walker - Gettin' By
13. Minutemen - Corona
14. Johnny Paycheck - STay Away From The Cocaine Train
15. Alabama - Dixieland Delight
16. The Blasters - SO Long Baby
17. Johnny Paycheck -FIfteen Beers
18. Jason and the Scorchers - Pray For Me Mama I'm A Gypsy
19. Junior Brown - My Wife Thinks You're Dead
20. Johnny Horton - Golden Rocket
21. Lorne Greene - Ringo
22. Stray Cats - Rock This Town
23. Webb Pierce - There Stands The Glass
24. The Shins - GOne FOr Good
25. Southern Culture On THe Skids - 8 Piece Box
26.BR5-49 - Even If It's Wrong
27. Hank III- 87 Southbound
28. Hank III- Mississippi Mud
29. Br5-49 - Little Ramona Gone Hillbilly Nuts
30. Reverend Horton Heat - Liquor Beer and WIne
31. Hank Snow - I'm Movin' On
32. Merle Haggard - Seeing Eye Dog
33. The Mavericks - alL yOU eVER Do Is Bring Me Down
34. Shooter Jennings - SOld Country Gold
35. Geroge Jones - Sinners and Saints
36. Dwight Yoakam - Guitars, Cadillacs
37. George Strait - Murder On Music Row
38. Ray Scott -MY Kind of Music
39. Randy Travis - DIggin' Up Bones
40. Warren Smith - REd Cadillac and a Black Moustache
41. Billy Joe Shaver - The Real Deal
42. Hank THompson - Okalhoma Hills
43. Les CLaypool - Gin and Juice
44. Ryan Adams - TO Be Young
45. JOhnny Cash - The Man Comes Around
46. Billy Joe Shaver - Live Forever
Now why in the hell would I bother to list that?! BECAUSE where in the hell else in a hundred mile radius (besides Johnny B's up in Medford) are ya'll gonna hear such music? AH, it ain't rightly caught on here, that's all. ANd it's TUesday NITE. Well, that's (almost) how I like it. That way we don't get inundated with a bunch of frickin' posers just there to pick up on chicks. Sooo. That's all fer now ya dern goatropers. Better get yer ass to a Honky Tonk NIte soon dammit. As ever, yer Flaco Jiminez, FELIX

PEOPLE REALLY FUCKING WIN ON HONKY TONK NITE! Well...

2006-06-08T00:10:00.000-07:00

PEOPLE REALLY FUCKING WIN ON HONKY TONK NITE!
Well hey there C.O.T. Agents (and Spies)...long time to talk at...long time no see...where the fuck were ya'll fer last Tuesday's Honky Tonk Nite at the damn Miner St. Pub in YREKA, ya dern idjits!? (is that really a question...I don't know myself). Anyhoo, you missed all the drunken mayhem we have come to expect from our three-week stint at the pub. I gots me a full band together now...with A/K/A/ Ray on the dang Bass guitar and newfoundling, Dwayne, playing the damn drums. We even gots ourselves a dang name now, THE SWINGIN' DOORS. A/K/A/ Ray thought of that. I wanted to call the band The DUI's...but that's just too offensive (and honest) fer ol' Siskiyou County. Anyhoo...we played pert near all night long--the forty some songs we know anyway. AND we done raffled off a bottle of Jim Beam in our Redneck Raffle...which was won by one Evil Joe Burkus. Of course, his Satanic Powers were at an all-time high since it WAS 6/6/06. Well, anyhoo, it's-a-goin' pretty goddamn well fer a Tuesday Nite and fer Yreka. So, when you Agents happen to stop by Yreka (to fill up on overpriced gas or visit a relative confined to a correctional facility or sell yer damned old Methamphetamine that's been stomped on by the Russian army before it ends up in the hands of Yreka's finest citizenry), stop by to have a damn Pabst with us. So next week I'll have me some photos of the event up on this here BLOG fer ya'll to see (those of you Agents--and Spies--that are soooo far away). And right about goddamn now I'm a-gonna start the new tradition of listing my goddamn playlist (when we stop a-playin') fer Honky TOnk Nites so you can see what yer-a-missin'.
PLAYLIST AT THE MINER STREET PUB FER HONKY TONK NITE ON 6/6/06
1.CCR-Lookin' Out My Back Door
2. Stever Earle - Guitar Town
3. Willie Nelson - I Gotta Get Drunk
4. Johnny Cash - My Old Kentucky Home
5. The Statler Bros. - FLowers on the Wall
6. Merle Haggard - Rainbow Stew
7. Dwight Yoakam - Guitars, Cadillacs
8. Junkyard - Simple Man
9. David Allan Coe - You Never Even Called Me By My Name
10. Hank Williams - Move It On Over
11. Kenny ROgers - The Gambler
12. Mel Tillis - Coca-Cola Cowboy
13. Sheb Wooley - That's My Pa
14. Ernest Tubb and Loretta Lynn - Sweet Thang
15. Meat Puppets - Plateau
16. Minutemen - Corona
17. Stray Cats - Rock This Town
18. David Allan Coe and John Hartford - D.R.U.N.K.
19. George Strait - Hollywood Squares
20. Waylon and WIllie - Luckenbach, Texas
21. The FLying Burrito Bros - My Uncle
22. Jason and the Scorchers - Help There's A Fire
23. Junior Brown - My Wife Thinks You're Dead
24. The Shins - Gone For Good
25. Johnny Paycheck - Stay Away From THe Cocaine Train
26. Loretta Lynn and Jack White - Portland, OR
27. Randy Travis - Diggin' Up Bones
28. Hank III - Mississippi Mud
29. The Clash - Brand New Cadillac
30. Cramps - GOo Goo Muck
31. Belmont Playboys - Runnin' Wild
32. Hank THompson - THe NEw Green Light
33. Hank III - 87 Southbound
34. Johnny Horton - Golden Rocket
35. Johnny Cash - Personal Jesus
36. Lorne Greene - RIngo
37. Reverend Horton Heat - Rockin' DOg
38. The Mavericks and Flaco Jiminez - All You Ever Do Is Bring Me Down
39. Shooter Jennings - 4th of July
40. Hank III - I Don't Know
41. Southern Culture on the Skids - FIrefly
42. Warren SMith - Red Cadillac and A Black Moustache
43. Billy Joe Shaver - The REal Deal
44. Drive By Truckers - Let There Be ROck
45. Les Claypool, etc. - GIn and Juice
46. Hank III - THunderstorms and Neon Signs
47. Hank Thompson - Oklahoma Hills
48. Doug Supernaw, David Allan Coe, Merle Haggard, Charley Pride and Waylon- You Never Even Called Me By My Name
See what ya'll missed (or didn't)? Make it next time, dammit! As ever, yer Webb Pierce's Car, FELIX

TUESDAY NIGHT WAS... Well, if ya'll done showed up...

2006-05-24T11:22:00.000-07:00

TUESDAY NIGHT WAS...
Well, if ya'll done showed up you'd know! So, to flog a dead giraffe, we're a-havin' these damn Tuesday Nite Mics at the frickin' Miner Street Pub in Yreka. And it's supposed to be a drunken hootenanny where one can go to play (or listen) to some damn drinkin' Country, Rockabilly, Bluegrass or whatever. Once again I was the only damn musician present. So I played fer like three damn hours (which ALMOST exhausted all the damn songs I know...almost). Well, let me just tell ya'll who DID show up, I reckon. There was Village Grind impresarios Bill and Liz. There was The Wendybird. There was former (and, I reckon, present) Beat chick Maggie. AND there was The Lord of Death Himself, S.G. (C.O.T. Agent #009...which is REALLY three inverted sixes) and his lovely wife. And there was Cokie the Poodle. And some other folk that I don't know the names of. Notably absent was one Reporter At Large Brad Smith (who was conducting only the most secret and important of investigations...which MAY effect--or AFFECT--the balance of global power). AND one A.K.A. Ray (who we suspect may have been abducted by Lemurians...or worse). And our friends from frickin' North of Yreka. AND Tim with the Hat.
NO MATTER...THE SHOW MUST GO ON! And it did. Rather depressingly sparse at first and then kind of hip and fun when The Damn Pup was descended upon by some Yreka Yokels who were liquored up and primed to hear some damn Country music! Actually, they mostly liked hearing the Johnny Cash. Which is fine. So I played Johnny Cash songs one right after the damn other and we had a dang Hoot for a spell.
STILL...it could have been much much much better. Like if someone besides me showed up to play. But, I once again must quote THE HONORABLE REVEREND GARREN HANON and remonstrate that Yrekans are "[...] the greatest group of non-participants in the world".
Ya know, I could sit anywhere and play my damn guitar all night long. I just reckoned that it might be fun (and perhaps more rewarding) to play alongside some other like-minded type individuals. Of course, like-minded type individuals (and least like MY mind) are scarce 'round these here parts. Oh well, fuck 'em if they can't take a joke. ANd, I must clarify, this damn diatribe is not meant to diminish the effort put forth by the folks who actually do show up and contribute (or just stumble in and get more drunk). CHEERS YA'LL! So anyway, there's frickin' work to be done for next week. MORE FLYERS! Learn frickin' "Midnight Rambler" for Dena. Transpose S.N.F.U.'s "Seeing Life Through The Bottom Of A Bottle" into a goddamn COuntry and Western song for The Lord of Death. Memorize the frickin' lyrics to "Georgia On A Fast Train"....And one big muthafuckin' shout out to goddamn SLAP SHOE FLY who are cool anyway but even cooler since they done rang me up to notify me that the COrrigan's thang was on hold fer pert near a month. Well, that's IT fer now C.O.T. Agents (and SPies)...As ever, yer BR5-49, felix

DON'T FORGET YA'LL... We're a-havin' a dang Hooten...

2006-05-23T12:05:00.000-07:00

DON'T FORGET YA'LL...
We're a-havin' a dang Hootenanny (a/k/a an Open Mic) tonight at the Miner Street Pub in YREKA! Bring yer damn instrument to play. OR just come to frickin' listen and drink PABST fer only two dollars a dern pint! So get all gussied up and come fraternize or maternize or whatever! STARTS AT 7:30 p.m.!
I must add that there is frickin' nothin' even resembling this happening in Yreka (probably because no one shows up to these damn things) except for our beloved SUNDAY MORNIN' COMIN' DOWN at the VILLAGE GRIND. These Open Mic things ain't so strange or anything neither...for Our Pook's Sweet Sake they take place everywhere BUT Yreka. So, unless yer content with weekends watching a bunch of rural white kids act like urban black kids while listening to the Hippity-Hop, come take part in the (only) alternative!

STRANGE TIMES IN CASABLANCA... Howdy again C.O.T. ...

2006-05-20T10:19:00.000-07:00

STRANGE TIMES IN CASABLANCA...
Howdy again C.O.T. Agents (and Spies)...I being pretty prolific on the dang Blog now, ain't I. Anyway...I know that Yreka news does not concern the vast majority of you Agents (just you Spies)...but it's still so funny and disturbing that I will plague ya'll with it any damn way. One of the numerous Civil War Re-Enactment troupes has made its way 'round to Y-Hicka. Interesting (or not). I didn't know that Calfornia was so steeped in Civil War history. Oh...it's not. Well, at least it gets (some) people out and away from their damn televisions or computers or inflatable dolls or whatever. AND it (the event, ya'll) bears the invisible stamp of The Great Seal of Socially (Unspoken) Legislated Approval...which, of course, means that the damn Star Bellied Sneetches 'round these here parts can attend (and participate) without doing anything that might give the fellow citizenry an ideer that one has departed from the coveted flock to do something on their frickin' own (without prior social consent). You don't know what I mean, do you? Oh, you'd have to live in Yreka, I reckon (and, even then, one might possibly so immersed in denial that they STILL don't know what I mean). Let me break it down like Kurtis Blow:
THE UNWRITTEN (YET STILL OBEDIENTLY HONORED) TEN COMMANDMENTS OF YREKA AND ITS GREATER SURROUNDING COMMUNITIES
1) THOU SHALT NOT PARTICIPATE IN ANY ACTIVITY THAT DOES NOT POSSESS THE PRIOR TACIT APPROVAL OF FELLOW YREKANS
2) ALWAYS WAIT FOR OTHERS OF THE YREKAN CITIZENRY TO DO SOMETHING BEFORE THOU EVEN THINKS ABOUT DOING IT THEMSELVES
3) DO NOT PARTICIPATE IN ANY ACTIVITY THAT HAS ANY OUTSTANDING SOCIAL OR MODERATELY ARTISTIC RELEVANCE (UNLESSS IT'S SOME KID'S AP ART SHOW OR COWBOY POETRY, ETC.)
4) IF SOMEONE IS DOING SOMETHING YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND (OR ARE AFRAID TO DO FOR YOURSELF BECAUSE OF FEAR OF FAILURE OR REPRIMAND (DAG NASTY LYRICS!), PRETEND IT DOES NOT EXIST OR MAKE DISPARAGING REMARKS ABOUT IT OR THE PERSON DOING IT
5) WAIT UNTIL EVERYONE IN THE FUCKING NATION HAS BEEN DOING IT (i.e. any gathering or activity...think Karaoke or Bowling)BEFORE ATTEMPTING IT YOURSELF
6) DON'T FORGET TO COMPLAIN ABOUT HAVING NOTHING TO DO
7) STRICTLY ADHERE TO ONLY THOSE DAYS, NIGHTS, TIMES and LOCATIONS THAT OTHERS USE FOR RECREATION
8) NEVER BECOME INTERESTED (OR UNDERTAKE) ANYTHING THAT MIGHT POSSIBLY SOMEHOW MAKE ANYONE THINK THAT YOU THINK (OR ARE) SMARTER OR MORE CREATIVE THAN ANYONE ELSE
9) ACCEPT YOUR SORRY FUCKING LOT. THAT MEANS...IF YOU ARE A DRAMA PERSON, ONLY PARTAKE IN DRAMA RELATED ACTIVITIES SO YOU CAN BE KEPT AN EYE ON...SAME GOES FOR ARTISTS AND POETS). THAT ALSO MEANS, BE DISCREET. DON'T GO OUTSIDE YOUR PRE-ESTABLISHED PERAMETERS!
10)IF SOMEONE (SUCH AS MYSELF) TAKES THE TIME AND EFFORT TO POINT OUT YOUR ABSURD BEHAVIOR, RATHER THAN ACKNOWLEDGING IT (OR ESPECIALLY CHANGING IT)...FIND SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME FIRST AND PUT MY COMMENTS (WHICH ARE, OF COURSE, DEAD ON ACCURATE) OUT OF YOUR MIND BY GETTING PISSED AT ME!
Well, ya'll, that being said...I am a stoked sonofabitch because I done procured Jason and the Scorchers first two albums. Excellento! And don't forget, for all ya'll who are near Y-Hicka, that we're a havin' LIVE FUCKING COUNTRY, ROCKABILLY (AND WHATEVER ELSE) MUSIC at the goddamn MINER STREET PUB every frickin' Tuesday (I know, a non-sanctioned Yreka day). PABST BLUE RIBBON is just two bucks a pint. Be there or be square (literally). The people here (and, suddenly, everywhere) are pretty fucking square (but that's another Blog). As ever, your Ra-Hoor-Khuit, FELIX

SOME GOOD NEWS...I GUESS Soooo...I done went out t...

2006-05-17T22:33:00.000-07:00

SOME GOOD NEWS...I GUESS
Soooo...I done went out to Corrigan's (in Etna, CA) again for their regular tuesday nite music extravaganza. It was excellento. The Berry Pickers done played (as they do every Tuesday)...an awesome blend of vintage folk and outlaw country (I reckon). They did Hank Williams' "Ramblin' Man" and a song by Townes Van Zandt that I'd never heard before. PLUS they gave me a burned copy of the latest Paul Westerberg CD...which skipped like a sonofabitch in my antiquated car stereo. AND C.T., who did some Mary Robbins-esque material and an interesting cover of The Count Five's "Psychotic Reaction". And then I played. The first song I did was Merle Haggard's "Kern River" which I dedicated to our dearly departed Ann Marie. The folks in Etna didn't know Ann Marie. But they knew what happened to her via our globally incessant media. And then SLAP SHOE FLY (whom I mistakenly monikered SHOE FLY SHOE) in a Blog of yore proceeded to kick out the jams playing some damn good stompin' Rebel Folk. Check these guys out. You can buy their CD at the Village Grind Cafe and Espresso Bar in Yreka (or at one of their live shows). I can't believe that Etna is soooooo much fucking cooler than Y-Hicka. The people are more intelligent, interesting and fun than Y-Hickans--no wonder the two tribes don't get on. Anyway...oh yeah, and Corrigan's has my favoritist bartender, Steve, who kicks mucho ass!
SO ANYWAY...I thought to myself (glutton for fucking punishment that I am)...maybe I should try something similar (again) in Y-Hicka. So I went to the damn Rex Club (where I used to hold open mics). Ben, the bartender, was way for it. But when I returned to talk to the woman in charge, she said there was a lot to consider, etc., etc. Yeah...right. Like anybody goes to the fucking Rex Club on a Tuesday night! As if. Then I remembered her as the owner of a club in Mt. Shasta (that evidently went out of business)...one time I tried to book a show there. And she asked me to audition. Hmmmm. Being accustomed to the ignorant-as-fuck (especially when I'm in Siskiyou County), I merely remonstrated that I had a CD. Then she proceeded to tell me that anyone can sound like anything on CD (this is Mt. Fucking Shasta remember) and she'd prefer an audition. What a dumb fucking woman. So anyway...that was then. Oh yeah, and she spun me some tale about how she knows all these Bay Area club owners (maybe she does...but so do I...big fucking deal) and how she really knows what she's doing etc. LEt me tell you Agents (and Spies) that when someone assures you that they really know what they're doing, you can just assume that they fucking DON'T. So back to present day...I'm supposed to meet her in a week to "discuss" this really complicated, high-maintenance "open mic" ideer. By the way, she was not familiar with the term "open mic". SO I SAID FUCK IT. And I went next door to the Miner Street Pub and talked to one Joe Burkus (bar owner and proprietor,etc.) and in five minutes we decided that TUesday night would be fine. FIVE MINUTES! So, ANYWAY, starting next Tuesday we'll be having TUESDAY NITE MICs starting at 7:30. And Pabst is two dollars a pint! And you Siskiyou COuntians will probably not even go because fucking Survivor or American Idol or something is on and that is sooooo much more important because you're soooooooooo fucking smart. And you get even smarter when you drink, believe me. And, oh yeah, I really DO consider you my intellectual equals because your name-dropping bullshit sooooo impresses me and us well-read types are so easily fooled. Or whatever. Whatever. But for you committed agents...come and drink PABST and listen to country music (yeah, I don't like Pabst either...but I drink it anyway). You will hear more from me, C.O.T. Agents (and SPies), I assure you. As ever, your Wesley WIllis Fiasco, Felix

SAD NEWS TO REPORT... I was reticent to post anyth...

2006-05-16T10:28:00.000-07:00

SAD NEWS TO REPORT...
I was reticent to post anything, but since it's national news I figure I might as well. I am sorry to report that a dear friend, Ann Marie, has died from an alligator attack in Florida this past weekend. I know it sounds very surreal...and it is. It's difficult to communicate how tragic A.M.'s death truly is. A.M. was 23, brilliant, and beautiful. This is not me just waxing nostalgic (as people ignominiously tend to do after someone dies)...these words (however cliche) truly described her. I will miss A.M. very much...who can estimate what contributions she would have made to art and the world. She was so very young. I looked forward in watching her grow as an artist, intellectual and woman. She was extremely rare and unique. At least I am a little consoled by the fact that A.M. truly lived. Maybe she had outgrown life. She always seemed to me a very old soul anyway. I am not sure of all of the facts of her death...and I'm not sure I want to know. I have been told that it was very gruesome. Hopefully she did not suffer any pain. I know that I am not being very poetic...but I don't think it's necessary. Good luck beautiful Ann Marie wherever you are and wherever you're going. Perhaps we'll see each other in another life. As ever, F.

668, THE NEIGHBOR OF THE BEAST (A.K.A. GET IN THE ...

2006-05-11T00:33:00.000-07:00

668, THE NEIGHBOR OF THE BEAST (A.K.A. GET IN THE OVEN!)
Howdy again C.O.T. Agents (and Spies)! What's this, two Electric Blogaloos in less than a month? Yassir, you are correct-a-mundo Agents! Why? Oh...BOREDOM! FRUSTRATION! ENNUI (No, it's not the same as boredom...not quite)! ANGST? Nah. Well maybe. So anyhoo...after admonishing ya'll for not attending the damn SUNDAY MORNIN' COMIN' DOWN (@ THE VILLAGE GRIND CAFE AND ESPRESSO BAR AND EXOTIC FOREIGN ANIMAL DEPOT AND MASQUE)...what do ya know...people done actually showed up...so it wasn't just me and A/K/A Ray playin' the same damn Merle Haggard and Johnny Cash songs fer once (well, actually, twice). Our strange friends from Hornbrook done showed up and played proper as well as a bearded guy with a pony tail (and not, like, a "sensitive" pony tail either...more like a guy who listens to Johnny Paycheck and drives a frickin' semi pony tail). Even the often-elusive Honorable Reverend Garren Hanon was to be found there...though it was well-after the event was on the verge of a-shuttin' down (of course). And this little tiny elderly lady who often shows up (who could whip some ass in a bar fight a few years ago)...who is also a drummer and veteran of many Honky Tonk Bands. And, of course, Siskiyou Daily News reporter-at-large, Brad Smith. So...what I'm-a-tryin' to say is: it was worthwhile. Well, worthwhile enough that I decided not to change the weekly event's moniker to "PYGMY LOVE CIRCUS" as I had threatened to do the night before. No, you didn't know about it Agents (and Spies)...only Knights of the Five Sided Castle can be privvy to such information before it goes public. Ummm...oh yeah, and there was this pretty girl there, too, that looked completely bored--especially while I was massacreing Social Distortion songs. But, at least she was reading one of Bill's many gun catalogs which are on hand for all to peruse. Viva La Revolution! What else what else what else? Oh yeah, and check our Corrigan's in Etna. It's a bar. It's a cowboy bar at that and it's a shit-kickin' good time, I swear...or my name really ISN'T Felix Thursday! And...the Miner Street Pub actually had some good live music last Saturday (featuring the something-somethings and The Siskiyou County Homewreckers. I'm not trying to be disrespectful but I can't remember the band's name...fuck...OH...SHOE FLY SHOE! That's them. They're cool...in a stuff that Ryan Adams is doing now kind of way. And THe Siskiyou COunty HOmewreckers are way hot! I love 'em. They rock like DOkken! OH, I'm in Siskiyou County...people might take the Dokken reference seriously. Okay, they just plain rock. Super unique and unpretentious. Lots of Valley Folk (that's, er, Etna and FOrt Jones) were on hand...even a few Y-Hickans. Not that many Y-Hickans, though...no Hippity-Hop, no Y-Hickans. Oh well. This is long long long long long. As ever, your Ewige Blumenkraft, F.E.L.I.X.

MOST PEOPLE ARE DICKS! (M.P.A.D) Howdy there C.O.T...

2006-05-05T10:02:00.000-07:00

MOST PEOPLE ARE DICKS! (M.P.A.D)
Howdy there C.O.T. Agents (and Spies!)...I realize I haven't been a-keepin' my promises (as far as updating the damn Blog and posting additional C.O.T. Agents)...so fucking sue me! I reckon I should at least apprise you of the events of my dull life. Where I come from two white parallel lines connecting streetcorners indicates safe passage for a pedestrian to cross the street. Oh, wait, nevermind...I come from frickin' Y-Hicka. These goddamn Clats think a crosswalk means "yield". I am losing count of the times I've almost been hit in the damn crosswalk by Y-Hickan motorists. And, if'n they stop (or slow down) to "let" me cross the street...they scowl as if they're doing me a frickin' favor. I'm doing THEM a favor by not climbing the nearest clock tower with my Swedish Mauser and picking them off like ants under a microscope! Actually, the town's architects have done them a favor by not erecting a clock tower anywhere in Y-Hicka--otherwise...
So okay, we've been a-doing the goddamn "Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down" at the Village Grind Espresso Bar and Cafe for pert near a month now...and no one's a-showing up (which doesn't really surprise me). The Honorable Reverend Garren Hanon is correct when he labels Y-Hickans "The greatest group of non-participants West of the Mississippi"! Well, okay, I added the West of the Mississippi part. But the Hon. Rev. is correct-o-mundo! Oh well, as the equally honorable Casey Stengal doth quoth..."if people aren't going to come out, no one's going to stop them".
I saw a grrreat frickin' band, The Sawyer Family, for the second damn time at my favorite Southern Oregon haunt, Johnny B's. You must check them out! But you won't. I know. Because I know you and your non-particapatory ways. Oh wait, I'm addressing C.O.T. Agents in addition to Evil Weevils! I must remember this and apologize forthwith. Um, that's all fer now Agents (and Spies). And my phone hasn't been tapped for going on six months (that I'm aware of). Please remember that most Y-Hickans are humorless fucks (and, of course, are not to be trusted). And remember as well that if you're on a damn road trip and stop to get gas or visit a relative confined to a correctional institution in Y-REKA, to stop by. I might be persuaded to have coffee with you and discuss the relationship between Dr. Suess and the Marquis De Sade. Or I might not. As ever, your Sheb Wooley, Felix.

FORTEAN TIMES... Oi! Long time no talk at C.O.T. A...

2006-03-28T08:42:00.000-08:00

FORTEAN TIMES...
Oi! Long time no talk at C.O.T. Agents (and Spies), but lots to report (sort of). Uh, first of all, some tragic news. Mr. Buck Owens, the originator of the Bakersfield Sound that influenced (among others) Merle Haggard and Dwight Yokham, diedd last Sunday--he was 76. When I was a wee one I used to watch me some Hee-Haw and I thought Buck was frickin' cool because he played a red, white and blue guitar. When I got older I thought Buck was frickin' cool because of "Streets of Bakersfield", one of the best damn country songs ever written. Go buy yerself some Buck and mourn his passing over a few Miller Lites!
Good News! I done went and saw this Yreka band, Kanybl Kaow (that's, uh, cannibal cow). They're sisters and they're really young, and they haven't been playing long, but they rock in a sisters who are really young and haven't been playing long kind of way. They hold these free concerts in Y-Hicka from time to time and give out free stickers and free CDs and even free guitars and basses--really! How they can afford to do this I have no frickin' ideer--but it's none of my business or yours. So, if'n yer a Y-Hickan, go see yerself some damn Kanybl Kaow. Their songs are uber-long, but they are in fact pretty frickin' unique. I bet these gals will go somewhere (if'n they don't have a Kinks/Oasis style sibling blowout somewhere along the way. You can go to their website (www.kanybl-kaow.com) and see how much they rock if'n you want. It think K.K. are rad on so many levels. I mean, how cool is it that they're doing something besides smoking weed and playing Nintendo. Plus, how rad is it that they're all girls...thus introducing many Y-Hickans to underground rock NOT via the typical/traditional MALE way. That means that the first experience many kids round these here parts will have with seeing live music will be attributed to some young women, rather that angry young Metalhead men. This could make a difference in how people perceive gender roles. Or it could not.
And, lastly, we had our first-ever SUNDAY MORNIN' COMIN' DOWN at the Village Grind cafe in Y-Hicka...basically just a gathering of musicians and songwriters. It was excellento! It doth featured myself, and Tony Deal, and Tim with the Hat, and Levi, and I'm probably forgetting someone. It was great to spend Sunday morning in the midst of a ghost town type environment playing Merle Haggard and Led Zeppelin songs and revolting against the apathy that pervades Siskiyou County. You should come next time. It's every frickin' sunday (at 11:00 a.m). You should come. But you probably won't. But you should.
Okay, enough! As ever, your High Cabal, FELIX