So I broke down & made a Facebook page for Remora. I’m not sure how to make it something useful, but it exists. It was a way to waste a few minutes. One of the reasons I did it is the thing where some venues & reviewers ask for it to post links & act like a link to an actual website where people can listen to the music & buy it is old-fashioned. & I guess it is unfortunately….
I also built a potential proxy server page on Silber. We’ll see if it works or not. Theoretically it should be low enough traffic that it won’t get blocked anywhere, but I don’t know if it works or not until I get a couple of folks to try to use it from work. There was one script for building it that I tried already & I know doesn’t work, but hopefully this one will be good.
I sent out a potential REH script to Andre White. He agreed with my synopsis that this script isn’t as strong as the others as far as painting a dichotomy of his fantasy/reality. So I want to re-work it a bit. We’ll see what happens….
Printed out about 80 comics. We’ll see if I can get them assembled for this weekend.
Also I got word from Kurt Dinse that Star #3 might be ready for April.
Here’s another sketch:
Last Night’s Dreams:
I wander into an old industrial part of town that I’ve never been in before. It’s all old factory & warehouse buildings, half of them appearing to have been set fire & left to rot at some point before I was born. One of them is a bar with a metal band playing & I go inside & there’s a sheep & a chicken walking around. No one is in the bar besides the band & the bartender. When I come back out there’s a few people milling around out front on broken lawn chairs. The only light is coming from the doorways & windows of the few occupied buildings, when I look straight up the sky is just pure & absolute black. I try to say something to one of the people, but they don’t respond (I’m not sure if they are ignoring me or just don’t here me). Then I see a goat who has been coated in some kind of dust that leaves a little ghost trail of him while he walks. He’s had his horns twisted together into a unicorn horn. He makes eye contact with me & starts coming towards me slowly & deliberately. I’m shoving people in front of me to try to break his stare; but it doesn’t help, he keeps coming towards me. I run & go into one of the other buildings. The interior walls are painted black & the whole place is coated with dust. It’s a hallway with countless doors. Occasionally a door is open & inside someone is selling used leather jackets & butterfly knives & the like. I go into one of the open doors & it’s a bathroom. I ask an old biker dude how to get out of the building & when I hear my own voice I realize I’m on the verge of tears. He tells me which door to take & it leads to a half flight of steps & another door. There are two other people standing in the stairwell & when I open the door it floods the room with daylight & they scatter like cockroaches. I dash out & it’s blindingly bright. The street is coated in dust & eerily deserted. I see someone dash into a doorway & I rush & go in the same doorway. I follow the sounds of the person I followed in the building & I have to climb through some weird fence barricade on some stairs in pursuit & they empty into a wide open room & there’s a 90 pound twenty year old girl talking to a guy sitting on the floor with his legs cut off above the knees & some blood still coming out. She turns quickly standing in front of the man to guard him & says, “Who are you? What are you doing here?” I tell her, “I don’t know.” Then I hear foot steps on the stairs & I back away from the entrance of the room. The girl says, “Don’t come up here unless you’re going to grant amnesty to everyone in this room!” A woman’s voice responds, “Who all is up there little girl?” The woman ascending the stairs has a shaved head & in one can she’s carrying a white five gallon bucket with what looks like coloscopy bags full of blood & she has a scalpel in her other hand. She’s wearing a white dress that leaves the back exposed & the skin on her back is removed & replaced with some kind of clear plastic & she has open wounds on her arms. The man with the missing legs stands up on his stumps & says to the girl, “Just let her take me.” The girl says, “I can’t do that, you’re my brother.” “I’m already dead.” Fuck, I gotta get out of here, I don’t want to see what’s about to happen.
I’m walking downtown & I see my old co-worker Bruce. He looks like a heavy metal guy, but he’s actually a hair metal guy into Poison & Ratt & bands like that. I yell to him & cross the street & walk with him. & when we get in the shadows this guy comes up to us & hands Bruce a six pack of beers in a plastic bag & says to him, “Watch out, they’re on to you man.” Bruce digs into his pocket to grab a pack of cigarettes & hits his keys first & hand them to me saying, “Hold on to these a second. We get to his car & he opens the door & then some shots are fired & he’s slumped into the car & I see a dude in a suit with the CIA ear piece in rushing towards us. I sling Bruce into the car & get in & the guy shoots something strong enough it blows the doors off the hinges. The car cranks & I drive. I’m not sure if Bruce is alive, but some of the beers definitely did not survive.
I used to read record guides and magazine record reviews a lot, but must have stopped before Pitchfork got big. Strangely enough, I only use Pitchfork reviews because they are built in to Spotify as a music discovery type service. The more you know!