"Adding and Subtracting" A Revolution in the Genre of Body Mods or Just Plain Strange.

http://www.bmezine.com/news/people/A10101/addsub/


check it out.....

Bands With Jews in Them

NOFX
Yo La Tengo
The Clash
Blondie
Bad Religion
Beastie Boys
ANTRAX
Megadeth (Dave used to be in Metallica)
Bob Dylan, of course.
Courtney Love, kind of....
New Found Glory
Peaches
Tom Petty and the heart breakers (the drummer)
Red Hot Chili Peppers
Veruca Salt

Grey H. Portrait

Basement Madness!

Interconnectivity of Versus (duality)

The Beginning of my essay...

Within “A Curtain of Green”, Eudora Welty examines Mississippi through its inhabitants, specifically Mrs. Larkin, a rich old white woman, and Jamey, a young black boy. In her short stories, Welty displays the reality of racial relations during the 1940’s. However, through the use of conceptual duality Welty looks past race and uses her novel to encompass the magical, unreal and odd beauty that Mississippi portrays. In fact, Welty utilizes the use of conceptual duality throughout the entirety of “A Curtain of Green.” Apparent, are the contraries of life and death, chaos and order, humanity and nature, illusion and reality.
The use of contraries appears in daily life. Female and Male, Mind and matter, good and evil, Black and White, and big and small are all dualities associated with the every day.

Both science and religion believe, strongly, in the fact that there are two opposing forces in many systems of society. For example. on a magnet there are two forces, the north pole and the south pole that cause a magnet to push or pull onto itself. Just as there is a connection in physics to particles and anti-particles so it is with dual subjects like life and death. It is with the use of duality that the church claims there is an afterlife in death thus accepting the dissimilarity between life and death.

According to Zhuang Tzu’s Taoism the the world is classified by the conceptual dualisms.

“With reference to positive and negative, to that what is so and what is not so, . .. if the positive is really positive, it must necessarily be different from its negative: there is no room for argument. And if that which is so really is so, it must necessarily be different from that which is not so: there is no room for argument.”
(The Identity of Contraries)

On the contrary, I do believe there is room for argument. I believe that there is a spectrum between the positive and negative and that the idea of there being only positive or negative is only a cliché idea instilled into our minds throughout our life time. I do still believe in the presence of the dualites though. Unlike Disney movies, there is no evil figure in our lives. Even if there is a person with whom we loathe, we still do not consider that person evil for there is without a doubt some positive characteristics in them.

Blood and Guts on West 4th Sunday Morning

This weekend I had the experience of witnessing the action of bad piercing. My friend J.J had his birthday this weekend and so his four best friends and two of their girlfriends came up to Brooklyn from Rutgers and D.C. to visit. One of the girls, Margo, decided on a whim to get a piercing. She wasn't sure what she wanted or where she wanted it. She just wanted to spend money and get a piercing. First mistake, on her part. It was 3:00 A.M.. So Steve, Gray, Margo and I went to West 4th (despite my objections due to the uncleanliness and lack of skill that West 4th tattoo/piercing shops are infamous for). We went. We got there. I went to the back with Margo to get her vertical labret piercing (I guess I inspired her though I thought she should have gotten a septum). 1. The Piercer didnt clean her lip, but he did clean the needle. 2. He didn't measure with any kind of tool. He simply did it by eye. He probably should have measured because its lopsided and not centered. I didn't say anything to Margo because I was afraid I would offend her. 3. he didn't use any kind of tool to guide the hollow needle through the bottom hole to the top hole. I realize that this isn't completely necessary but the piercer stopped pushing the needle through in the middle of piercing Margo's lip to see if he was pushing it to the second dot. What a retard!
I'm just really appreciative that Rob (Thanks!) pierced me and not anyone else less capable and retarded.

The one thing that bothers me the most about piercings and tattoo shops on West 4th is the lack of creativity that people (both customer and employee) use. Picking tattoos out of books??!?! YUCK! oh and how gross their are.....CLEAN YOURE SHIT UP ASSHOLES!

Post-Ratatat Show

Mackenzie, Sean, Kailin, Jackie and I all got pizza afterwards...and then, exhaustedly ventured home.

Ratatat Show- April 18th, 2007

A Brutal Youth: Young Artists, Designers and Photographers of Central Florida

To Whomever It Concerns,

I’m really interested in starting an annual young artists’ show in Orlando this summer. Living in New York City this past year has opened my eyes as to how culturally desolate Orlando really is. Although we have great arts festivals and the amazing Orlando Museum of Art I still feel that Orlando lacks the cultural diversity it is capable of. More importantly, the only ones heavily involved in the area of the arts in Orlando are all above the age of 35. I’d like to see more involvement with high school and college/grad school age amateur and professional artists, photographers and designers. We are the future of art in the Central Florida Area and I believe that we must be allowed to be involved in this community as artists and not necessarily in a classical style either. I’d like to see art as part of everyday life as it is in New York and not as just a gallery that you happen to go to once a year. I’d like to see those not normally interested in art to be interested in the art show I have in mind.

I have already started to search for talented young artists, photographers and designers for this event and everyone I’ve talked to seems interested.

I’d like to call for sponsors who can assist to provide a venue or gallery space for this event and show. I see this as a non-profitable event but if money is made off of it I’d like to donate it to a youth arts organization. I was thinking that the money could go towards scholarships for less fortunate kids to attend The Orlando Museum of Art Summer Camp.

I promise that this is no scam. My name is Ilana Engel and I’m a student at Pratt Institute of Art in Brooklyn majoring in Communication Design (i.e Graphic Design, Illustration, Advertising). I grew up in Orlando and all throughout my childhood I was not exposed to art the way I have been this year in New York. However, I grew up with many kids that were talented in the are of the arts. I just really want others to be exposed to the youthful talent in Orlando the way that I have been.

Thanks,

Ilana Leah Engel

Watch the Weather! Lightning Bolt is playing at Pratt!

Lightning Bolt will be playing at Pratt Institute in the next few weeks. This is one of my favorite bands.


Its like trippy, noise that fills the heart with demon-inhibited candy and sunshine! Its one of those bands with whom I refuse to identify a genre with. They are their own genre of music. <3

Check out Wonderful Rainbow. Its their best album, in my opinion...although..ALL of their albums are pretty radical.


Check out their website. It can explain them alot better than I can.
http://laserbeast.com/

Club Midway WILL go out of business sometime in the next year because their attitude and sucks.

New York's Most Badass Bar

Okay, so I'm 19 and I'm not old enough to drink. So what? Siberia is, by far, my favorite dive bar in New York City. In fact its my favorite bar altogether (and I'm a drunk so thats saying something) . It also is the most notorious punk rock joint in the city (fuck CBGB's) and you do have to be part of a kind of an elite to go there AND be welcomed.
For you sober kids: What is a dive bar? A dive bar is a establishment of drinking with a rundown or shabby look to it. Most dive bars have a laid back atmosphere and cheap drinks. Siberia has semi-cheap drinks for being in the city and its atmosphere is laid back...but...only for those who frequent the bar.
The 1st floor looks like a shitty warehouse with a toilet hanging over the bar on a chain hanging from the ceiling. In the toilet (as of March 2007) can be found Dustin's (a bartender at Siberia)'s Rockstar Bearing's skateboard. The story behind the toilet is...well..I was too drunk to catch most of it..but it involved Japan and the toilet and rioting about the closing of Siberia (a year ago although... its been closed several times so it might have been years ago that this occured). Anyways, its a relic. Speaking of toilets, the bathroom looks like it hasnt been cleaned in years (which it hasnt) and this is one of the reasons why I feel so at home at Siberia. If you break the seal, ask for toilet paper from either Christian or Dustin, the bartenders on Saturday nights. Girls, dont plan on picking up any boys here. Its not allowed (house rules!). Tracy will kick your pretty ass out if he sees any foul play and you will not be allowed back. However, if you're into loud music, interesting and intellectual drunks and friends this is the place for you.
I have seen some of the greatest shows at Siberia than I have seen in any other venue. In the basement of the venue is where its at. Its cozy in a punked-out "this-is-what-a-bar-was-like-when-you-went-to-shows-as-an-11-year-old" kind of way. Okay, maybe that was just me. A year ago Against Me played a private show. Bands like the Dandy Warhols, Through You, Arcade, and X27 have played there on various occasions.
One of the more shallow reasons to go to this bar because it is known to be frequented by mad celebs like Jimmy Fallon, Winona Ryder, Heather Graham, Julia Stiles, Lou Dobbs and countless other A-listers. But if this is the sole reason you go to this bar that makes you pretentious asshole and you will be sorely disappointed





Remember! Its on 40th and 9th with the Black Door and Red light.
http://www.siberiany.com/

Orlando's faults

Here is why Orlando is going to the 'shitter'. Oh, Orlando, you are baby city that lacks all the culture, open-mindedness and beauty that New York City has. It is a sad and tragic thing to admit. http://www.bigpond.com/news/offbeat/content/20070406/1891544.asp

What? Feeding the Homeless in Orlando is illegal?!?! What has this motha-F***in republican bullshit come to?!!?

I have alot of friends that take part in Foods Not Bombs. Check out the organization.
http://www.foodnotbombs.net/

Blogs

http://www.arch102-07.form-ula.com
http://www.freewilliamsburg.com
http://blog.myspace.com/sldofficial
http://blog.myspace.com/southfloridaundergroundmusicscene http://thelmagazine.com
http://brooklyn.about.com/b
http://community.livejournal.com/pratt
fav blogs

Poetry Rooftop Reading

Bushwick's Boar's Head Factory on Moore St and Morgan Ave.

Gabriel is hosting a Rooftop reading at his apartment, 250 moore st. #407.
Come for a night of reading, listening and drinking in Bushwick.

Directions From Pratt: Take the G towards queens to Metropolitan/Lorimer. Transfer to the L towards canarsie. Get off at Morgan.

New Piercing

New Piercing.

Show on April 9th, 2007

Identifying a 'Slut'

I call someone a “slut” when they use sex to get something, be it a physical object or someone’s affection. In essence, we are all sluts in our own regards.

II. Kind of a Narrative

Amelia suffered from broken relationships. She rejected the concept of God, which for a college student wasn’t exactly rare, but feared in believing in one {God}, giving in to her loneliness, resentment, self-pity, and self-blame. She told herself, “"No one would love me as I am." She had a medical condition. Yes, an addiction. She had never resisted her addiction, obtaining a recurrent failure pattern with which she supposed would be a life-long trend. Amelia continued such behavior even after acknowledging her problem. Constantly, she felt distress, anxiety, restlessness, or irritability if unable to engage in the behavior. At the young age of eleven she had been diagnosed with ADD. It seemed to be too simple an answer to her complex, and multifaceted problem. No, this could not be the right answer. In her later years, like a narcotic, she would venture out to find her drug. Amelia found herself to be compulsive, habitual and uncontrollable. One could say her addiction did not require substance. It was merely psychological and that it was. It required touch. Often, in her dorm room, she found herself searching, constantly, for something to turn her on. Normally, this resulted in ignoring homework and school projects. Do you find yourself looking for sexually arousing articles or scenes in newspapers, magazines, or other media? Sometimes she called in sick from work so she could masturbate. Even if Amelia tried, she couldn’t persuade anyone to understand her life-long secret.

Her relationships. Oh, Amelia’s relationships were full of lust, and fire but they were void and empty of care and commitment, love and kindness. When she fucked (one could hardly call it “lovemaking”) she did it to avoid feelings. Yet, when she orgasmed, she recognized her sex addiction as the source of all her pain. Her actions were degrading to her self; making her susceptible to the men she met. Each new relationship continued to have the same destructive patterns which prompted her to leave or destroy the last relationship. Once she met a boy whom she believed she fell in love with. Eventually, their relationship went from friendship to a weekly or bi-weekly ritual of sex. Like, before her relationship was empty but because of who he was she doubted it. She hoped for a commitment. Yes, he wanted her but she wanted more. That scared him. She became conscious of her fear of abandonment. He took advantage of Amelia’s need for him. Did I mention the video camera? Even when she physically couldn’t stand anymore…lube or no lube Amelia couldn’t say “No.” Recognizing her partner’s ability to take advantage of her she exposed the final straw of self-hatred. She felt a great degree of helplessness. Amelia knew she was a good person, with a good personality and first-rate morals (even with her psychomatic problems). I used to call someone a “slut” when they used sex to get something, be it a physical object or someone’s affection. Amelia was never a slut, raunchy, vulgar or even perverse. Her sexual lifestyle was inconsistent with the rest of her personal life. Amelia took a lot of showers. She thought it would help. She felt remorse for ever beginning this sexual escapade with this man.

Mantra of Compassion

OM MANI PEME HUNG

OM MANI PEME HUNG

OM MANI PEME HUNG

I. Quantum Theory

They are ‘the everyone else’ that loves to hurt or

rather be hurt on dim lit streets in warehouse districts of Brooklyn.

We already live in speed driven element, lacking of loving gesture.

We are the epitome of the Humanity, the population and the violence

(Human Papilloma Virus.)

We never meant to depict our lack of vitality,

eventually she did in preserved fearfulness.

As long as its bud, and bowls full of cremated ash,

it was acceptable as long it meant you could be through with her.

We are the deteriorated. We decompose

You positively wanted to see her, dead.

We stand for the deterioration and decomposition of a young starving race

Cremate, cervix; burn baby, burn.

We constantly wonder if omniscent contenders contend in our well-being.

Never.

We stand for the deterioration and decomposition of a young starving decrepit race.

The asshole that gave her cancer.

A second couple of lips opened and then pain.

Pain-pleasure, pain-pleasure.

Generation of aggression and manipulation.

He cut her into pieces of blood I draw from a present boyhood

Boyhood that necessitated to cease.

We polluted her mind with videos and optical illusions of ‘paintings’

Love? What the fuck? He wanted to see her, though.

”We? Love? What the fuck are you doing here?”“If he had loved me, he would have really seen me”

For seven seconds, every night one hundred demons haunted her body.

19 years old, apathetic and stagnant,

and she said, “You need to get tested”

Only continual replies, “what the fuck!?! Here’s to the whore!!”

Accusations from a rock-star 23 years old and

Sado-masochism, bites fearful partakers at 19 Thames.

Scars were the only films they made.

”Here’s to the whore!!” screams throats with too much blame to reason.

We are the epitome of the Humanity, the population and the violence.

He was the immune glorification of godly manhood and selfishness,

While she was struggle, sexy aggression, continuous anger and feverish insomnia.

We are those for whom fearlessness was godliness

Criticizing the serenity of suburbia hipster fucks,

We used to be choking and always meant what our intellectulite told us.

We leaned on the walls of subway stations entwined,

Reckless with our own covetousness,

Or rather hunger for Perfection,

Or to a certain extent hunger for perfecting mutual loneliness.

Always meant what we said, young and dumb.

Older and even dumber, took the choice to feel nothing or feel pain.

We are those who for whom immunity was godliness.

So now she’s just a 14 year old girl, or so he said. I bet she was fat too

”Here’s to the whore!!”

We are the optimal Humanity, the population and the violence

Technorati Profile

IV. Random Poem

She needs a ventrilouquist or
needs to learn how to answer
a question. She exhibits symptoms
of pyschosis, echopraxia...
thats whats its called, "repeating reflexively
what is said without thinking."
Maybe she should shut
up and answer questions
by telepathy, but that would out
her as psychotic to everyone.
Presenting your counter offer,
Telling her that "moving
as far away as she can will
change everything." She needs
to believe that she knows better.
Still, she will want
nothing but solitude and you.
She is "paying attention to her inner
workings and pulling back the layers"
Skin Layer by Skin Layer.
By Skin Layer number three
She will conclude that
In acts of selfishness
we tend to ignore what we are
really living for.
Yet, she aims to recoil
considering herself a whore.
How sick and diseased she
says she has become just
for the sake of getting attention,

getting the attention span cut short.
Little did she know.

She replied to the boy, "Do you want this struggle?" Implausible.

III. Part A

"It is a gross and yet a very common error to lower the standard of attainment."

-Ilana Leah

Upcoming Shows

Ratatat
Hot Chip
Inswarm (previously Still Life Decay) @ Club Midway
Head Automatica @ Pratt Institute

Happy Almost-Fucking Birthday To Her

Happy Almost-Fucking-Birthday to Her.

She laid there on the surgical table, her skin peeled off her body like an open book. Maybe it was melting. That’s what it felt like but she wasn’t quite sure. There were strings, attached to hooks, attached to her skin, holding it in place, off her exposed organs. She could feel the blood spraying and pouring out of her insides like a boiling pot. “Best fucking birthday ever,” she thought to herself. She didn’t say anything to the doctors (were they doctors?) about being conscious (of the fact that her guts lay before her)… she just held her tongue. That was the beautiful thing about indifference. The simple act of not caring, the apathy. And what reason did she have to care? “None,” she noted. Devoted friends, disappeared, just showing they lacked the devotion they claimed to have held. From Loyalty, Compassion, Dependability and Trust, her friends names had become, “Manipulation, Intolerance, Deceit and Abandonment. These muses played heavily on her heart. “Oh, god it burns,” she thought. Burning flesh. God, my flesh burning. An old wound causing present pain? “Put pressure on it,” she contemplated, forgetting her situation at hand. “Maybe it will stop.” It wasn’t even fall yet when she was presented with a foreshadow of what to come. A single cigarette burn. It never occurred on purpose but the scar was still there. She looked at it in her misery. A constant reminder of those she called friends who only repaid her friendship in ounces of stress and on-setters of depression.

She instinctively pushed them away just as they seemed to have done to her. Similarly, she knew his intentions. In truth, she always knew. She woke up next to him on a Saturday morning not to long ago and asked him if he loved her. He didn’t say anything so she knew. She didn’t even really need to ask. In fact she knew the answer in the same kind of way that you know someone is staring at you from behind your back when you are standing in the subway. Its innate. He had torn her to pieces in the same way that girl he dated before her, tore him to shreds. That cannibal. That flesh-eating mongrel. He transferred his apathy onto her.

On a very recent trip to Las Vegas she came upon a Hopi Spirit Master. This decrepit old man, whose eyes glistened of many a moon, told her that her spirit animal was, and I speak only the truth, a skull. Yes, a dead human bone. A piece of a person who is no longer alive. White and hollow. Lacking all things that make a person human, the heart and the brain. The compassion and the thinking power. Numb and dead. And it made sense. She became stagnant. She was not changing nor growing, emotionally. She just was.

Before this moment her hands were constantly sweating with worry, contemplating decisions, life, future. But at this particular moment they were as cold as the winter weather outside, cold like her personality and cold like her heart. Every decision she made felt wrong. Even this decision. She wanted to go home, drink, drink, drink, and collapse. The year was wasted, wasted, wasted. She loved to get wasted. The numbness was helpful. She is only on her 19^th birthday and she already fears life. It’s like breathing and not wanting to. It doesn’t matter what you want, you have to. You grow older and you can’t help it. Her mind told her, “You will never get older. You, alone, will stay young forever.” If she could have only been so lucky.

Some birthdays you hope never come, like when you turn 20 and you realize two things. 1.) You are not a kid anymore. And 2.) You have ten years till you are 30. Or like when you turn 50 and all you have before you is retirement and death, and what lies behind you are your years of empty success or sweet failure most of which are unfulfilled hopes and dreams. Her apathy became anger. And so her solution: to become a totally different person in and out.

If they couldn’t love her as she was. She would change. She would play the part just as long as….well, that is irrelevant.

First Post Ever- Irish Shoegazer's band and Nights on the Town

I proclaim last night's one of the best 'shoegazer' bands' shows I have been to in a very long time. Aloft Records and Loveless Music Group put on a great show. The lineup included Monocle, Soundpool, Butterfly Explosion, So L'il, and Misty Roses and a few DJ's. All of the bands were very amusing but Soundpool and Butterfly Explosion blew me away. Soundpool, on one hand, was an unexpected orgasm to my ears. Each song was a throbbing pinnacle of musical madness.

Similarly, was the Butterfly Explosion 'musical madness'. However, instead of throbbing the music was more rhythmic and better put together. The singer's voice was drowned out by the guitars and keyboards for a melodic symphony conducted by the drummer and the keyboards. Their music is airier than Soundpool but both bands The Butterfly Explosion's singer reminded me of Jenny Lewis from Rilo Kiley with an Irish accent. Which in my opinion is NOTHING to be ashamed of. The Butterfly Explosion with be playing again in New York on April 3rd at the Mercury Lounge in New York City.


Shoegaze or Shoegazer is a form of U.K. Indie and a form of Anti-punk. The term comes from the fact that those in Shoegazer bands would spend more time looking at the pedals of their effect pedals than looking and interacting with the audience. Bands like The Butterfly Explosion are considered 'Nu-gaze'.



Pictures will be posted in due time.








http://www.soundpoolmusic.com/
http://www.butterflyexplosion.com/