I am doing some updates to my promo list. Takes longer than expected. I also finally found something I can use Twitter for that is useful as far as making new connections. I can find bloggers that would be into Silber by finding bloggers who follow pier labels. So I’m trying to get going on that before Twitter gets so dense that it’s useless to try to go through it by hand.
I think I’m getting close to done on the first commission song as far as the audio (still need to do the video). So at the rate of $1 an hour, it still makes a ton more than the average Remora album!
I’m having an in depth roundtable discussion with a bunch of other label owners about at what level of targeting does something stop being spam & become info-mail &, surprisingly to me, no one but me does any targeting & just spams.
The girl I’m going out with has five heads. She switches them out to perform the different tasks they’re designed to specialize in.
I am at church & I think I’m in a communion line, but it’s actually a laying on hands thing (strange how some 2000 year old traditions seem sensible & others freak me the fuck out). After the laying on hands I get such a massive headache that I can barely make it back to my seat & in fact I don’t make it back to my seat; I sit down in a random pew feeling like something is about to burst out of my head just above my left eye or maybe I’m going to have another seizure or maybe I’m going to start gibbering in tongues until I pass out. The guy kneeling next to me puts his right hand on my left shoulder & asks, “Hey, what is there that you think is really scary?” I look at him, confused by him talking in church & in particular talking to me; but finally answering, “That none of this is real.” “Oh, that the world’s all in your mind. Yeah, I hear you.” “No, none of this religion.” He looks at me like I’m crazy; then says, “What are you doing here?” He gets up & walks away.
I joined the revolution because the government killed my family. We’re at the wedding of the president’s daughter to commit assassinations hiding in the rafters of a large gazebo & I realize the only other person here that’s part of the revolution is the leader of it, Dustin Hoffman. I realize there is no revolution. There’s just a nut I’ve been following around. Then Dustin drops out of the rafters, AK47 in one hand & a machete in the other. He’s not killing indiscriminately in that he first takes out anyone with a gun & then just keeps firing until he has used up all three clips he brought with him. Smiling, he takes the machete & cuts off the hand of a man still clenching a gun & picks up the gun & hand & squeezes on the hand to pull the trigger. What is this going to fix? I wish I’d died with my family.