how long/thanksgiving

Charles Bradley

I wish I could say everything that needed to be said all in one facebook posting read by everyone in the world in the same moment. “Did you read that shit?!”“Christ that shit was solid.”

That is all. All that needed to be said.The etymology of the word “Occupy.” The reversal of the European colonial project. The melody of Martin Luther King's soul. A link to a perfect song (for is this not text, too?), a song that would pluck every listener’s intimate heartstrings, creating internal glory, each being exploding with self-love.Words that carried with them the power to heal the demons of schizophrenia, to turn the dragons into princesses, all of the dragons touched and unmasked for their true princess selves. No evil, no regimes, no end games. Simplicity and folk, Somalian pirates sailing the seas for peace, to fix France and rid it of its racism. Somalian pirates pulling up on the American shore, teaching us how to play baseball and bake apple pies. Secret pleasures found by shy men who up til the moment of the post could only think of the ways they would woo the women with their talents.  The end of the death penalty, the end of economic disparity, the rise of racial equality, a woman with complete authority over her body and the decisions that affect her body, in perpetuity.

I give thanks for what is possible.

In the holiday spirit, I offer up these fine songs.  I hope you feel loved and are surrounded by family, however defined:

The Everly Brothers:

Cathy's Clown

As my friend Corch said, "don't sleep on the brothers."

The Tallest Man on Earth:

The Drying of the Lawns

"I'm leaving cause you don't fear what you're dreaming of"

Camera Obscura

Lunar Sea

The song ends at around 5 minutes. After that it's just quiet. Good opportunity to contemplate the best parts of your life.

happy thanksgiving,
Anthony

tits and mistakes

Warning: This post may contain explicit language (it does) and may be offensive (it is).

I've found in my life that tits and mistakes pretty much go hand in hand, or hand in glove, or hand on tits, or face covered in tits, or shove the spear up my virginal asshole. ouch.  I could write about tits for days because I have never cheated on my fiancee.  I came very close when we first started dating, before we were technically boyfriend and girlfriend. But before the girl came over, I called her and said no!  I knew it would ruin my integrity (underlined three, not one, times).  That's all I cared about, because a relationship must have integrity (underlined three, not one, times).  It must go to the depths of Moby Dick's Ocean.  A relationship must have a solid foundation, and my fondling some large-breasted young woman in that ambiguous time before we had explicitly, with words, committed to one another, would not have contributed to the type of mature relationship I wanted and continue to want with the woman I love.  I've done this kindof thing in the past: used the ambiguous pre-formal-committment-time to splinter off and shack up with a sex pot.  For those who know me, this should come as no surprise.  I learned, however.  I learned that what I wanted for myself was this integrity.  I wanted a relationship built on integrity and other pillars like love and support.  And I can say with integrity that it is, our relationship is beautiful, so much better than any huge-breasted unfamiliar woman working hard to unbuckle my belt.

But back to tits and mistakes!  And alcohol, lot's of alcohol!  Big tits are great.  So are small tits.  It often doesn't matter.  Bigger tits are great, too.  I will provide an example: it was my 29th birthday.  I had been dating a girl, we'll call her Sara, for about 7 months.  Cute little Indian girl, ex-tennis player, really thick hips, perfectly proportioned breasts on the smaller to medium side.  I had already pulled the shagging another girl during the ambiguous beginnings and had been "caught".  I faithfully argued that I had not committed any crime; the mutual, carnal, fantastic sex had occurred with a woman during a time when things between Sara and I had not been formally clarified.  I was innocent, if a little sleazy, possibly.  But not really.  I'm a good guy.  Sara was furious and pouted a great deal, but eventually came around. 

Four or five months later, it's October 22, 2006, and I'm at a bar drinking Guinness, PBR, Stella and Jack Daniels in the lower east side, 13th Street and Avenue A.  The place was called the Drop Off Service, which sounds worse than it was.  It was actually just a preppy bar.  A bunch of Sara's Columbia friends were there, not for my birthday, for some other reason.  But among these other friends was one of Sara's close friends.  Sara didn't really have close friends, as it turned out she was far too psycho (I must tell you that right now, as I write, I am listening to a nice little ditty called Snow Day by Matt Pond.  It's a song that Starbucks purchased for an advertisement, which was televised, commonly called a commercial.  The song is about a snow day, no school, no work, happy fun fun fun!), but she did have this friend whose name I can't recall, so I'll call her Laura because that was her name.  Just kidding!  In any case, I had a grand time that evening at the Drop Off Service.  Many of my new york friends stopped by for a drink, my sister and her boyfriend were in town to celebrate, I was riding that perfect intoxicated wave, waltzing around the bar singing Smiths songs in one minute and fiercely attacking some Guns n Roses Slash air guitar in the next.  I was the life of the party. (I'll let you in on a little secret: I may or may not have been the life of the party.)  Eventually, things got to the point when it was time to go.  People were pulling me out of the bar and into a cab filled with Sara, my sister and her boyfriend and other friends and acquaintances.  But no!  I was not finished.  My brilliant mind thought this was the perfect time to chat up Sara's good friend Laura.  Laura's tits will not win awards, but they were above average in size, and by God! that night I was ready to become THE HULK for a chance at suckling on them, stripping off that horrible shirt, horrible only because it stood in the way of my mouth and whatever other undergarments, they all needed to be torn to shreds, so my mouth could taste the nipple.  OH GOD HER NIPPLES! HOW I WANTED TO BRUSH MY FACE ACROSS HER NIPPLES!  And so I moseyed up to the bar where she and a friend were still sitting, drinking.  I don't remember what I said, but I do remember that nuance and subtlety may have broken down a bit and I think I made it clear that I had intentions of doing some wonderful things in the restroom.  I'm not sure how my mind was processing the fact that, Sara, my girlfriend of 7 months, and many other loved ones were waiting for me in a taxi, just outside.  The timing wasn't perfect.  I was really drunk, but I remember Laura looking a bit turned off when my message may have become clear.  I'm still not sure exactly what I communicated, but she didn't overreact, thankfully.  She only moved away and began talking again to her friend.  It's really strange today not knowing what I said and not knowing how Laura felt about the whole situation.  If I did make my intentions clear, Laura never said anything to Sara.  Because if she had, Sara would have done some crazy shit, which she ended up doing later anyways when I broke up with her on legitimate grounds, mainly on the grounds that she was crazy.  I'm happy the whole thing didn't blow up fecally in my face although I probably deserved it.

The shitty thing about me is that I'm pretty sure, given some better circumstances, I could have closed the deal with Laura. I won't bore you with details, but during my single days, I was pretty fantastic.  Aside from being a natural at the art and social science of seduction, I also understood magic.  Magic is such a critical part of seduction, so often misplaced or left at home or trampled on in favor of "What's up girl, damn you look good!"

I should be more disappointed in my behavior that night with Laura, Sara waiting in the taxi.  But my disappointment stems mostly from the fact that I couldn't pull it off.  But only slightly disappointed.  As I said, I'm a natural.    

(Listening to the remaining Matt Pond songs on his album have not impressed.  Snow Day, however, remains a winner.)

with so much love and bursting adoration,
Anthony

This Charming Man

I would go out tonight but I haven't got a stitch to wear.

Snow Day!

We can want more.

Diamond Rings

This kid was in a band called The D'Urbervilles.  Pretty much your standard fare indie band from Canada.  But in 2009, after dealing with some health problems, he decided to cover his eyelids with colorful makeup and go off on his own.  This side project, Diamond Rings, is basically just him, John O'Regan.  The video below is the first one I heard.  Thanks be to Emilie Raguso, friend and editor in chief at the Albany Patch, who posted this video on her facebook.  I did some research on Diamond Rings and found out that he used to be somewhat of a jock.  You can see him wearing an old Seattle Supersonics jersey in the video below.  In some other of his videos, he plays up his sports background (no pun intended), and appears to be a pretty good basketball player.  For example, he can make a reverse lay-up.  In one video he and some back-up dancers perform a flamboyant, choreographed dance on a basketball court.  By performing this dance in the hyper-masculine space of a basketball court, Diamond Rings creates the best kind of cultural confusion.  It forces us to think about masculinity and femininity, hetero and homosexuality, and the titles "man" and "woman".  Many of the articles I read about Diamond Rings discussed the androgynous nature of his look and performance.  There are many references to David Bowie, Grace Jones, Boy George, etc.  Bottom line is the music is really, really good, but the cultural conflict created by Diamond Rings is also very compelling. As a straight ally of the lgbt community, it's always important to remember that we live in a hyper-hetero-normative society.   Therefore, it's so important to embrace artists that create space for queer and/or potentially queer expression.  Diamond Rings doesn't answer the question, "are you gay or straight?", citing the lack of binary oppositions in relation to human sexuality.  In one interview, he said, binary code works with computers, but not with humans.

Diamond Rings

much love,
Anthony

First Guest Post: Saba Moeel!

Saba Moeel is the glittery literary buckshot that just left the cannon and adjusted your world view.  She is also the younger sister of one of my close friends and favorite people, Shaffy "Shafierson" Moeel.  Absolutely love the Moeel's.  Saba works as a (brilliant) designer during the day, but here I want to highlight her writing.  She has more pure writing talent than anyone I'm reading today.  Her writing is hot, bizarre, shape-shifting, mystical, Ayn Rand confident, and honest.  She grew up in El Cerrito and now lives in Brooklyn.

Guest Blog:

Day 95

Oh so let me guess u got a pot belly but still wear a mid riff revealing shirt no problem? WELL SO DO I so you cannot judge another person.

Oh so you drink chlorophyll and kombucha like there's no tomorrow for your 'health' but then again you eat something sweet everyday? WELL I GUESS I CANNOT CAST ANY STONES YOUR WAY

So..you have a long list of advice for every person in your life except for yourself? Join the club on this!

The last time you went to the club, did you have the time of your life and plus the owner had a crush on you so you got into the secret downstairs part WITH your whole crew INCLUDING all 7 of dudes, but then it was the worst night because at 4am you lost your key and had to call a locksmith, he ripped you off but you were so enraged and just done that u paid it and ended up paying 700 dollars that night, all in al? Wow me too thats weird

Did you, offer a Ganesh puja which means you cracked a coconut in a fiery camphor burning ritual in your Bushwick apartment, only to auspicously have your BRAND NEW ganesh necklace snap off your neck as you were dutifully taking out the trash like an adult, only to have some flukey student loan fiasco happen where u thought u had to pay 3 g's by next week, then out of creepy morbid, morbid curiosity u asked your shady pimp acquaintance how much his ho's get paid and this motherfucker said $25,000 A MONTH. Then he gently solicited you to join his prostitution ring, then you didn't respond? And this was all on text. Then you thought, let me delete this fools number then you were like, but NO I need to know the number so I accidently don't evr pick up, like EVER cuz this fool is so shady thank god I found it out before I worked with his producer friend. But did you then get so enraged at everyone trying to use you, which is hella imaginary anyway, that you texted the dude your dating demanding what the status was on ur relationship after a year of being too terrified to even call him on the phone? Then after he gave u the thumbs up, after first taking the opportunity to torture and tease you and pretend to be a 'handcuffed bachelor', which you loved because it was all very fake and annoying and much like a wayans movie, did the student loan situation dissapear 2 minutes later cuz your mom called and reminded you gently that your dad was helping you settle it with an agency and u just forgot, and then all the main things that were bugging you for the past year were instantly solved and you realized GANESH works in mysterious, angry, aggressive ways, but ALWAYS INSTANTLY IF YOU make a prayer to a coconut, crack that shit w a hammer on the ledge, PLUS 'accidently' break your spiritually energized piece of jewelry even tho the damn thing was brand fucking new!!! it served its purpose and you couldnt even repair it cuz you LOST THE DAMN THING THE NEXT DAY AT WORK!

That last paragraph wasn't a question that shit happened!!! And it was wack as hell!!! But hey, that is Ganesh for you. So Dont let your mouth make a prayer that your ass cant cash! Because I cashed it and it was awful, but it all worked out marvellously didnt it

Love Songs to Troy Davis: A Small, Free Concert to End the Death Penalty

Sunday, November 20, 1 to 2:30 pm, at Solano-Peralta Park (across the street from the 7-11 on Solano Ave., near the Albany/Berkeley border)
http://g.co/maps/kzjav

The execution of Troy Davis on September 21, 2011, made a great many of us feel sick and brokenhearted.  Our government injected deadly poison into the bloodstream of a vital, breathing man and ended his life.  For those of us not involved in the every-day effort to end the death penalty, the execution created feelings of helplessness, sadness and the sense that we could do nothing to stop these brutal acts of violence.  In response to these feelings of helplessness and sadness, a group of us have come together and organized a small, free concert.  The goal of this concert is very modest.  Everything will be acoustic; there will be no amplification.  This will be a peaceful vigil, not a protest.  It is our hope that the music played for a short time in a small park in front of a small crowd will ripple out and send a clear message that business as usual must not be allowed to continue.  Our belief is that the death penalty is racist, immoral, cruel and unusual and therefore not allowable under the U.S. Constitution.

We want to emphasize that this will be a peaceful vigil.  There is a time for loud, direct action, but on this Sunday, our hope is that the sound of acoustic and unamplified voices will speak louder than a bullhorn.

We are so fortunate to have three local, up-and-coming performers share their musical gifts for this event.  I encourage you to check out their websites or just show up and be ready to be impressed.  The music will inspire.

Performing:
Anthony Martinez - website under construction
Starr Saunders - www.starrsaunders.com
Aerin Monroe - http://www.reverbnation.com/aerinmonroe



We hope to see you there.

much love,
Anthony