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

Holland, 1945

(best to turn your volume down)

Holland, 1945

(now you can slowly turn your volume up)

A little background: the song was inspired by and/or is about Anne Frank's life.

Consider these lyrics:

"now she's a little boy in Spain
playing pianos filled with flames"

I'd like to ask you to do a little writing exercise, no more than 30 minutes.  I know you are super busy, but I'd still like to ask you to do the following: Think about these lyrics in relation to your life and then start writing. Think about these lyrics in the context of the song and these lyrics alone. Of course, there is no right answer.  Are the lyrics confusing?  Do they make you feel something?  Are they about a relationship, a woman, history, war, life, death, music, creativity, meaning?  If you decide to do this, you can use my prompt about these lyrics to get started and then just write wherever it takes you.  10 minutes, 20 minutes, 30 minutes, whatever amount of time works.  If you do this freewrite, please email me whatever you finish with.  I'd love to read your reaction.

much love,
Anthony

#Broke my camera

I dropped my brand new camera on the sidewalk.  It scratched the lens.  Now there is a black splotch in the middle of all the pictures I take.  This is depressing.  I haven't called Amazon, but I'm pretty sure they're not going to give me a new one.  I bought it a week ago.  If they don't, I'm probably going to buy the same camera again: the Canon Powershot A1200.  It costs about $100.

Also, the world is changing. #occupywallstreet.  http://www.adbusters.org/

with sadness and hope,
Anthony

Unspectacular Musings and Then...

My mind is kindof blank at the moment.  It's not really coming up with anything significant to write about.  I could write about #occupywallstreet.  (What the fuck does the # mean?)  My baby just got home, that's a good thing.  She's going to make dinner.   a stir fry with vegetables and cajun style sausages.  That sounds delicious.  Things have been a little crazy of late.  I became famous when my first professional piece of writing was published on the Albany Patch.  The link is in the blog posting just below.  I've had to deal with a whole new level of celebrity.  My friends all ask, "How did it happen?  How did you do it?"  all eyes staring at me with this enthusiasm and curiosity, sparkling, and me comfortable in my new level of celebrity, answering, "well, it happened like this...blah blah blah (but very confident/laid back, funny, witty and self-effacing), so they all think, "yes, he is a good writer!"  just by the way i talk about my writing.  it's all been a bit much.  and then my parents, who I wrote about, are being recognized now on their Solano walks.  they are now famous, too.  I have to come back down to the earth, the earth of New Mexico, the dusty red, earth of Taos, where the snake shaman is practicing for the ceremony.  He will keep the bullet-noesed-rattler snake, indigenous to southern New Mexico, in his mouth, bitting softly around the mid-point of the snake, coaxing the snake into a mild trance.  And I will sit and chant as the sun burns away in the south-western skyline, dark edging out the burnt hues of the light, now comes eagle and lands to take the snake out of the mouth of my celebrity coach.  The shaman.  And the eagle flies away.

But I must remain rooted in the earth.  I cannot let the winds of change, albei-them positive winds, i cannot let these winds of change ruffle my feathers.  I must not let the new connections and conversations allow my brain to self induce serotonin labor, and spike goes the euphoria, which i've discussed enough to make you nauseous.  As i go from your average sailor to Moby-fucking-Dick, I must keep the little people in mind and remember i get sad.  I do get sad, all the time.  For no "reason" yes there are reasons, but not reasons for making people sad.  I get sad and need to cry because I went to a work retreat and I didn't know anyone and it felt weird.  I get sad and need to cry because i feel overwhelmed with good things.  I'm already working on Patch article number 2 and i've got the interview for Patch article number 3 lined up with my doctor.  Does it get any more significant or miraculous, this new level of fame and fortune, writing for the Albany Patch?  The patch pays me between $25-100 per piece depending on if it's good and if it has a lot of photos.  I'm fucking rich.  I don't know what to do with the money.  I invested the money from the first article in a new camera, which makes hellof sense because i get paid more when i take more pictures, i think, but then i interviewed my Patch #2 guy and felt too awkward to take pictures even though i had my brand new camera right there.

But the point of this article/post is I need to stay grounded otherwise, best case scenario i get sad, worst case i have a physiological panic attack, meaning i have horrible chest pains which i interpret as the beginning of death, the clear, incontrovertible, absolute beginning of quick death, and so i panic and there is a horrible hysteria.  That I would like to avoid.  So i have to remember that even though I want to open my soul to the stars and make little connections like a kite with all the stars from my soul, i can't make a connection with every fucking star.  There are hellof fucking stars.  Just Think About It.  So, my guts are open and I'm trying;

FUCK EARTHQUAKE!!!  AHHHHH I"M GONNA DIE!!! I"M 21 FLOORS UP!!!  okay, I'm okay, seriously, but gotta go put away my laundry.

love you guys,
Anthony

My first professional piece of writing!!!

http://albany.patch.com/articles/my-fathers-solano

much love,
Anthony