February 29, 2008

FUCK AROUND AND GET YR WAFFLE SPLIT!

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Long lost twinsicle Teeter was in town on tour. Nigh nine years back we lived and worked and played together day and night. Life partners. She taught me how to skateboard and we'd go downtown and roll up on crews of idle teenboy skate thugs bombing parking ramps and challenge them to race her and she would win every time. Every time. It was like living in the movie of my dreams. Loose Trucks Idol. Remember the HIOQI Locust roundtable? About macho violence and power violence and Locust fans pulling the chandelier out of the ceiling at Michigan-fest in 98? I am mistakenly credited for Teeter's discussion of the Locust making it hard for fat kids in hardcore. Sizeism is an issue punk will never really address. We tried! Back then, I think we blvd something good would happen if we could save punk with our puritanical love rage. Now, with the benefit of time you think "The Locust? Who gives a fug?" The other person who was in on the round table, Mikael Wood, turns out he and I are both still contributing to the same fanzines a decade on! His Gutter Twins interview follows my Chicago hip hop fashion spread in this months SPIN. Hey, at least we're all selling out together.

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For a real study in contrasts, we took TT to the Tim's-back show of Make Believe, as she is spending the next three months on a stadium-n-bus tour with New Jerseys finest. Singer opened. Way less face touching this time, more mime trapped in a birth sac. When they don't all do the clowny bits so much, it makes the US Maple guy look like a painfully hip thumb. He is really dialing the invisible hamburger phone. Otherwise, they were pretty great. Make Believe is more fuck you heroes than ever. America-misery, shanking gtr leads, electric piano filigree and pure punch. Tim had on a pajama top, khakis and wingtips and he kept folding in half over his middle aged middle and screaming at the kids, up in their eager faces about apocalypse through the ages. I think they are the Born Against of the middle west in many ways. Their return is feted by the gods, surely: Welcome back, man.

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Last night, JR came over so we could write this long, long review of Times New Viking for good old Plan B. It's about 60% jokes about the first five books of the bible, Railroad Jerk and handjobs. In between turns at the writing, we browsed through some of Dworkin's most brutal work for inspiring quotes (we can only cite Foucault so much, ya know). (PS. This is not a posed picture. JR is real admirer of her work.)) If you haven't read her testimony (or read it lately) to the Minneapolis City Council on the porn/human rights ordinance, her erudition will make you break a sweat. Also, this same book features speech she gave at Yale Law School in 1980 where she takes the entire audience to task and tells them everything they have done is still not enough, and until they are out in the streets getting their asses busted along with the rest of the activists, on top of whatever feminist work they do, they're complicit. PWNED! I think she considered anyone who disagreed with her part of the problem, but then again, nobody fought the patriarchy with such whole life and soul ferocity. I hope she is resting in peace now.

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Also, speaking of feminist reality terror masterworks, 4 months, 3 weeks and 2 days is still playing at the Music Box. Possibly the scariest movie I've ever seen, every day life situations that are just...unyielding horror. Kind of Dworkin meets Von Trier meets the oh-no-oh-no feeling of Jaws. Except here the shark is the communist patriarchy.

Posted by Jessica at February 29, 2008 05:14 PM | TrackBack