too smart to live, too cool to die

I’m sitting in the parking lot of an Irving Big Stop in Salisbury, New Brunswick. Last night A/V played with Windom Earle in Charlottetown, PEI and it was a packed sweaty house party of dancing fun. I just remembered at the end of my set that a magical robot girl appeared out of thin air and kicked the asses of the fake robot girl poseurs, and then some dude stepped on my power bar and shut off all the music, and yet the vocals continued as people clapped and sang along. Then the real robot summoned Windom Earle out of the swirling vapours of the Atlantic night and they were wearing pirate costumes or some shit and proceeded to blow the barn doors right off the place.

That was the first A/V show I’ve played in a month.

I was working on a new CD and my Juno-106 blew a power transformer. I was the guy who used to go around saying “Oh I have to lug so much gear around, I wish there was a way I could strip down my setup.” So I finally got my idiotic wish, what with the shitting-of-the-bed of my main synthesizer. I briefly considered ditching the whole unreliable mess of a band, but then I thought maybe there would be some way I could salvage recording an album by using my iBook instead of a synth, even though I hate that, you fucking electronica nerds, moving a bunch of coloured blocks around on a laptop screen, it’s not even remotely analogous to “rocking out.” But fuck it, give me some tools and I’ll get the job done.

My iBook was too old and weak to run the recording software properly. So I ordered some RAM off the Internet with my poor aching credit card. The package arrived on Thursday and I installed the new RAM. So now my computer can run the software. I’m in business. The very next day, on Friday, I had my spiffy rammed-up laptop and I was sitting in the armchair that looks out over the forest and trying different things on the computer, and I set the computer down on the floor to gaze out over the expanse of trees, and got lost for many minutes in reverie and silent contemplation of Nature. And then I stood up and put my heel down on the iBook and was rewarded with a nice crunching sound much like the teeth of Jesus Fucking Christ chewing on my bones at his last god damn cannibal supper. I opened my laptop and I’d cracked the screen. It wasn’t too bad, a little crack and some hairline offshoot cracks, but it pissed me off. Today I turned it on and the damage had grown much worse. The cracks are actually bleeding now, in pixels of red and holy blessed purple, and the Internet has just now told me my computer’s days are probably numbered, hold on while I try to take a picture of this shit: