At this moment (02.29.04):
Leap year. Thanks to all my friends, and occasional enemies, that came out to see Zerostars play at the Beat Kitchen last night. It was an emotionally draining show and one worth remembering. It was a truly wonderful evening, and not just because of a great show. Here are three pics I took before our set. More pictures are available at zerostars.com.

Mark at sound check

Mark at sound check		Amps

Album: One All - Neil Finn

At this moment (02.28.04):
Saturday sun. Explosions in the sky. A night of well needed and restful sleep. I'm prepared for the mission. I'm an unstable molecule. I'm a Molotov cocktail at your grade school party. I'm the distance between two like objects. You're my parallax and my hope. You're my kick drum.

At this moment (02.27.04):
My friend Jason sent me this questionnaire today. Here are my responses:

1. IF YOU COULD BUILD A HOUSE ANYWHERE, WHERE WOULD IT BE? The moon

2. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ARTICLE OF CLOTHING?
The kind that mannequins wear

3. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE PHYSICAL FEATURE OF THE OPPOSITE SEX?
The opposite sex

4. LAST CD YOU BOUGHT?
Susanna and the Magical Orchestra

5. WHERE'S YOUR FAVORITE PLACE TO BE?
In a book

6. WHERE'S YOUR LEAST FAVORITE PLACE TO BE?
On tv

7. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE PLACE TO BE MASSAGED?
Gums

8. WHAT'S MOST IMPORTANT, STRONG IN MIND OR STRONG IN BODY? Strong in soul

9. WHAT TIME DO YOU WAKE IN THE MORNING?
6:58

10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE KITCHEN APPLIANCE?
Blowtorch

11. WHAT MAKES YOU REALLY ANGRY?
The words "basically" and "interesting"

12. IF YOU COULD PLAY ANY INSTRUMENT, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
Cello

13. FAVORITE COLOR:
The color of sound

14. WHICH DO YOU PREFER, SPORTS CAR OR SUV:
Neither. I prefer running shoes.

15. DO YOU BELIEVE IN AFTERLIFE?
Only if it believes in me

16. FAVORITE CHILDREN'S BOOK?
The Lorax

17. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SEASON?
Time of the Season - The Zombies

18. IF YOU COULD HAVE ONE SUPER POWER, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
To have no super powers

19. IF YOU HAVE A TATTOO, WHAT IS IT?
My glasses

20. CAN YOU JUGGLE?
Only knives

21. THE ONE PERSON FROM YOUR PAST YOU WISH YOU COULD GO BACK AND TALK TO?
My grandma

22. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE DAY?
The day the Earth stood still

23. WHAT'S IN THE TRUNK OF YOUR CAR?
So that's what they call that thing

24. WHICH DO YOU PREFER, SUSHI OR HAMBURGER?
Sushi

25. FROM THE PEOPLE YOU WILL EMAIL THIS TO, WHO'S MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND FIRST?
Me

26. WHO'S LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
God

27. WHO DID YOU RECEIVE THIS FROM?
Jason

28. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CARTOON?
My life, oh the hubris

Okay, so we have a show tomorrow night. All are invited. $7 at the door, Euros will not be accepted. Beat Kitchen 10PM.

Song: One of These Things First (Nick Drake)

At this moment (02.25.04):
Thinking a lot about Nick Drake.

At this moment (02.22.04):
Last week at work I had to make a video. I did a pretty awful job, at least I think so. I took out all the dialogue, added music, and made a few changes. View it here (Quicktime required). It really is lame. At some point soon I'll make something better, or maybe I'll have some of the upcoming Zerostars show taped and I'll edit it down for the web.

Listening to: Johann Sebastian Bach - Suites for Cello solo. I've been listening to these suites on repeat since I received them. I've tried to listen to other music (The Coral, Electrelane, and The Elected), but I'm finding it ugly. Everything else sounds fake. But this is inspiring. I've never heard or listened to anything like it. Truly beautiful. This is a whole new world for me.

At this moment (02.18.04):
I'd rather be here...

At this moment (02.15.04):
10PM Dublin time. Sitting here, in this quiet solitude thinking that for some reason, I can't quite figure out why, I feel like some sort of novelty, a museum curiosity, but I'm not on display. Such a strange realization to have or to feel. Earlier in the day I had a vague notion that I would run into someone that I knew, some past or long lost ghost of a friend—maybe my other self—Damn, it's not Marlow, but who the hell is the author? Maybe it was out of loneliness wishing for a conversation other than the one in my head as I walk past foreign voices, blackened stout thick Irish accents, or the occasional German or Spanish tongue. Occasionally I pick out an American accent. I wonder, "Is that a voice I know, or maybe one time knew?" I do that a lot, even when I'm at home. One of my friends is always missing people. Sometimes I wonder why. Maybe it's Dylan Thomas, or is it Sylvia Plath? Does anybody follow my line of thought? My friend is a lot like Ireland. If I told her she'd ask why. It's the kind of thing only shared over pints and long conversation.

I didn't take a lot of photos today. I think that when I return people will be disappointed by my lack of photos. Some will probably ask why I took more pictures of graffiti than monuments or other sights. I've learned that I don't make a good photographer, which is strange considering I'm best in support roles. So I don't make a good photographer, and I wouldn't make a good scientist. It's these brief moments of self doubt when I wish I was 20, and it was summer outside, and my grandparents would be visiting from Florida...

Christ Church		St. Patrick's Cathedral

Near Dublin Castle		Dinner, not as good as Wildfish

I feel sorry for anybody who tries to download this page off of a 56k phone modem.

Album: Old Low Light (Kathryn Williams—An added bonus to foreign travel is the ability to pick up albums unavailable in the states. Kathryn Williams is a rare find. I came across her on a Rough Trade sampler and fell in love with her voice. She writes very quiet songs, simple instrumentation, yet gorgeous. She has more talent than Norah Jones or any female American singer currently topping the Billboard charts in the states. Highly recommended.)

At this moment (02.14.04):
Valentine's Day in Dublin. I woke expecting a hangover, but none was had. Grabbed a piss cup of coffee and a salty croissant and set out. Seriously, the coffee was piss and I only took two bites from the croissant and threw the rest out. Found a nice coffee shop, and had a much better cup of coffee there along with some breakfast. Then, I went up to Dublin Castle, which is closed because well, the government is in session. So I went to the Chester Beatty Gallery and had a look. I eventually broke down and grabbed a tourist bus and figured I'd let it take me to all the other places I wanted to go without walking. Ended up at the Museum of Modern Art, and followed that with a visit to the Dublin Writers Museum. Then off to Temple Bar, which I guess is a bit like Rush Street in Chicago and kind of touristy like Navy Pier. Saw the hotel owned by Bono and the Edge. I might stop by the bar tomorrow for a drink. Tonight being Valentine's Day might be a bit mad. It also houses their club, but I don't plan on going there.

Until tomorrow...

At this moment (02.13.04):
I'm drunk. Just a bit. No. A lot. No. More than a lot. If I was in Chicago the time would be 3:59PM. It's 10PM in Dublin. Drunk. Wasted. A bunch of pints of Guinness. Some Jameson. Some wine. Dinner. Tea. Now this. Hahahaha... Don't look forward to sleep, nor do I look forward to whatever hangover may occur. No, a hangover will occur. I think back to when Kim and I sat in Murphy's that one night and drank pitchers of Guinness. I didn't drink pitchers of Guinness, but I'd say I drank at least seven pints of Guinness over a few hours. Oh Guinness...

So today I wandered and strayed, sometimes lost, around Dublin, a city that is as confusing as it is beautiful. I could easily spend the rest of my days here.

Moonlight, is so overrated.

So first an awful breakfast. But the Irish aren't known for their breakfast, nor their food. I'd say such a shame, but it isn't. First, an umbrella, then Trinity College, then St. Stephen's Green, which is a beautiful park. I think of Boston minus the swans, but only as a comparison, a point of reference. Every so often somebody would ask me to sign a petition, but I'd say, "Sorry, I'm from the states and I'm not well enough to talk." They'd laugh and ask me about my trip. If they were a cute girl I'd fall in love. More often they were cute, so I'd say that I fell in love at least ten times today. I'm always falling in love, be it with the girl at the checkout counter, or...

Yeats #1 — St. Stephens Green

St. Stephens Green #2

I saw this and I thought of Sarah. Graffiti in America doesn't have the same sense of urgency. Does that make sense?

So true.

Of all the books I bring to Dublin I bring Salinger. Probably has something to do with how I've been thinking a lot about Salinger these past few days. Of course I ended up doing more writing than reading. I scrawled all over the cover. The back four or five pages are littered with half drunken thoughts and ideas. After visiting the Guinness Storehouse, which is a complete joke, but not really. It's just that the tour makes Arthur Guinness out to be some sort of God, or if you will, savior to the Irish people. A bit laughable. But I will admit that the Guinness is best in Dublin. So this shot was taken in Brazen Head, the oldest pub in Ireland. I drank four pints there. So I'm sitting at the bar, and these two college kids walk in, I say kids only because they're younger than me, and they order some shit beer, and then they say to me in their southern accent, "Excuse me, but, do you tip in Ireland?" I say, "Out of all the people in this bar you manage to ask the only American." They laugh and we share a few words about globalization and the lack of Starbucks. I told them that I was amazed, and thankful, that there are no Starbucks in Dublin. Seriously, none. Fuck, they have a Starbucks in Beijing, but not Dublin. This is a beautiful country, and I pray to God that Starbucks never invades this wonderful land. I was amazed at how they thought the Walmartification of America was bad. Maybe there is hope...

At this moment (02.12.04):
Sleeping aides and razor blades... In Dublin. It's been four years since I was last here, Ireland that is. Looking at my passport I last entered Ireland on February 5th of 2000, but that was Cork, not Dublin, business, not vacation (although I did stay an extra day then to wander around Cork, Cobh, and Blarney).

We landed at a bit after 9AM. A fairly, and thankfully uneventful flight. A small amount of bumpiness, and I felt bad for the person sitting behind me as I reclined my seat in an effort to sleep. He rebelled by keeping his overhead light on the majority of the flight. I took two Tylenol PMs before we took off, but I'm the type of sleeper who requires total darkness and complete quiet. They kind of worked in that I was able to keep my eyes closed for the flight. I probably even drifted in and out of sleep. Although, about two hours into the flight the stewardess, all of which were beautiful Irish girls, woke me from a sleeping aid induced daze and asked me if I wanted chicken or pasta. I mumbled pasta and she slid a tray of ravioli in front of me and asked that my seat be brought into the upright position. Stoned on the sleeping pills I wasn't really aware of what was going on. I fumbled for my glasses, found them and put them on. I began eating, but I forgot that I put my glasses on, so I frantically began searching for them not realizing that they were already on my face. I swear, it took me almost ten minutes before I figured out that my glasses were on my face. And then all is a blur until 7AM when the stewardess once again slid a tray of food and a cup of tea onto my tray. Still goofed and dazed I ate the food like the stoner that I was.

As we began our descent the morning's fog lifted and I caught a glimpse or two of the sun, and then we landed. Passed through customs, grabbed my luggage, tracked down a taxi, made it to my B&B by 10:30AM and passed out on the bed until 2:30PM. Woke up, and wandered in a complete zombie state around Dublin, primarily Grafton Street. Passed in and out of a few record stores, bought a few albums that I've been trying to track down in the states, and kind of got lost. But I blame being all jet lagged and still out of it. Eventually I got my bearings and found a pub called O'Sheas for some pints and dinner.

Guinness tastes better in Dublin, so does shepard's pie, and tea. Everybody smokes, including infants. Tonight it's a good night of early bed and rest. Tomorrow it's across the River Liffey I go.

At this moment (02.11.04):
Sitting at Chicago's O'hare International Airport. Slightly exhausted but looking forward to Dublin. Just wish I didn't have to contend with sitting at the airport for three more hours before my flight even takes off. The security guard was a complete ass. I asked him if I had to but my beverage through the X-ray machine but he said no. As I proceeded to try and walk through the machine another security guard yelled at me to put my beverage through the X-ray machine. He grabs it out of my hand and yells at me. I probably act the same I guess. Stupid tourists. But then, I get yelled at and told that I can't walk through the X-ray machine with my scarf. So I take it off, place it on the conveyer belt and walk through the machine. It doesn't go off. Thank god. But then the conveyer belt machine eats my scarf. I tell this to the security guard and he gives me a nasty look. I tell him again that my scarf is missing. He looks around and finds it on the floor and mumbles something to me. A fellow traveler looks at me and expresses empathy. I thank him and as I'm walking away I whisper "Fuck off" to the security guard. Reading that over I see that I'm rambling.

Merci. A woman is speaking French over the PA system. The plane next to me is boarding to Iman.

I managed to grab an aisle seat, so hopefully I'll be able to stretch out a bit and sleep. But I forgot my sleeping drugs. Yet I just scored some Tylenol PM. Sweet.

Dinner: bottle of water, king size Mounds, Erythromycin (which is hilarious as I'm self medicating for no good reason but the fact that I think I have a sinus infection. I laugh).

I will say that I feel like some tech-geek with my digital camera, digital video camera, and hilarious camera phone. If I didn't document this experience well it'll be my own damn fault. I always have so many grandiose ideas, but they never turn out as grand as I think that they'll turn out.

The guy sitting across from me is carrying on a microwave. But something tells me he's not flying to Dublin. I'm always amazed at what people carry on to planes.

Song: Nancy Whiskey (Shane MacGowan & The Popes—I plan on grabbing a pint and a whiskey as soon as I set foot in Dublin, and I don't care if it's at 9AM. My friend Kim and I went to see Shane play the Metro years ago. What a great show. Shane was totally mad, but I didn't expect anything less. As soon as the band would finish one song Shane would yell, "How 'bout another one!" and the band would rip into a glorious punk rock Irish-tinged anthem. Great explosive stuff.)

At this moment (02.09.04):
What are we supposed to do to protect ourselves? That is the question for the day. I stumbled upon this question as I glanced at Franny and Zooey on my way to work this morning. Maybe we all need to slow down and breath. We really are moving a bit too fast for our own good. Americans are making hubris their national past time.

Wired on coffee. Mistake. All is discourse.

Kafka had a way of making the mundane bizarre. Day to day life events are what interest me more than say patterns or constants. Of course it could and should be argued that that the day to day lead to somewhat structured patterns, but I am not sure how much they lead to predictable patterns. I am not all that sure if I believe in patterns. Yes, there are certain habits we perform daily, but should these be categorized or defined as patterns? Just because I brush my teach after drinking coffee in the morning does not mean there is a specific pattern. All of a sudden I am being plagued by this sort of fine line between habits and patterns. This all seems so small or insignificant, but the insignificant make up the significant.

Album: Dead Cities, Red Seas & Lost Ghosts (M83—Slowdive with layers upon layers of keyboards instead of layers of guitars. It took me a bit to get used to the drum machines because they sound so straight, but after a few listens they make total sense. They've been compared to My Bloody Valentine too, but I think they're better. I'd even say I prefer this album to Loveless.)

At this moment (02.08.04):
Listening to Strand by The Spinanes. I really think this is one of the sexiest albums ever made. Rebecca Gates has such a warmly seductive voice. Totally underrated, which is a shame. I've always been amazed that two people could make such a beautiful noise with just guitar and drums, and they were way before the White Stripes, who don't even come close to such a huge, original and beautiful sound.

The days keep extending. And in four days I'm in Dublin.

My brother's dog Nala		My nephew Nathan.

Keeping slowly falling I travel backwards through space of time unknowing feeling it all.

Old writing rediscovered:

Song: Madding (The Spinanes—For a friend)

At this moment (02.07.04):
Listening to Harold Budd. Exhausted, but good exhausted.

Song: The Rat (The Walkmem—Holy Shit. The first great urgent pop song of 2004. This is a call to arms, a ponding on the door. My god this is...!!!!)

At this moment (02.06.04):
From yesterday's recording session:

Photo: J. Moody

Photo: J. Moody

So today, this morning, I decided to kill my hotmail account. Goodbye geneticresearch. Really, no great loss. If you're a friend email me and I'll send you my new email address. If you're an enemy, well, email too and I'll direct you accordingly. I've just been fed up with hotmail. The amount of junk mail is out of control and it appears that the account was actually generating spam/viruses. Plus screw Microsoft. I'm Mac based and I'm tired of looking at that damn MSN page. Plus, since it's a .Mac account I get 100MB of file storage and a webpage that I can use if the need ever arises. It's not free, but who cares.

Song: The Charming Man (The Smiths—This song was playing in my cube, and as I talked with a co-worker I noticed she was tapping her foot. Classc song. )

At this moment (02.05.04):
Numbers are random.

Jason and I recorded a bunch of bass guitar tracks tonight. Things were sounding good. Managed to get a nice tone out of my bass, which shouldn't be surprising, but it is. Even more surprising is that I pretty much did everything in one take. Kinda strange just playing to drums with no guitars or vox. Even stranger is how I really only listen to the kick. The importance of a click. But I empathize with Mark because I couldn't just play drums without hearing all the other parts. Jason took some pretty great photos. He's going to put them up on the Zerostars site, but I might put one or two of them up here.

Listening to Greetings From Michigan. Genius. I've probably listened to this album close to 50 times since I got it in mid-December. It's just so rare to hear such honesty in music. Romulus has to be one of the most heartbreaking songs ever recorded. This album needs a larger exposure than it's getting.

Ireland is a week away. This time next week I'll be wandering the streets of Dublin, the same streets as Leopold Bloom and Stephen Dedalus. I found a literary pub tour. Two actors take you to different pubs in Dublin and do monologues from literature and plays written by Irish authors.

Song: Blooms Eventually (Pulseprogramming—Simple ambient/electropop with some nice vocoded vox. There's a strange sense of urgency to the lyrics. Earlier in the day I listened to this song, and I thought of a friend. I do that a lot.)

At this moment (02.04.04):
I look forward to 04.04.04. The world is an angel as the jet sweeps past my window. I stop.

Listening to Sigur Ros' Ba Ba Ti Ki Di Do EP. It's wonderful. I should have my headphones on. I should be sitting out in the snow. Longpigs sing like a razor in the... Today I conceded victory to another long lost. Or maybe it was yesterday afternoon before the night. And so a relaxing night yesterday.

Yesterday (I'm always in the past tense) I was (see again the past) thinking about Coltrane. Silence at 4AM. God's hour. Then Kerouac. Awake. I'm addicted to using parenthesis, but incorrectly. They () house my tangential thought process. Grammar rodeo.

Album: Ba Ba Ti Ki Do EP (Sigur Ros—Seriously, this is fucking brilliant, especially when the third movement erupts in rhythmic syllables and feedback.)

At this moment (02.02.04):
How cool is this? I love the creativity these scientists have in naming these new elements. Maybe I'm in the wrong field as sometimes I find all this particle theory stuff utterly fascinating.

Song: All I Want to Know (The Magnetic Fields—This song is genius. The 70's electric piano, the brilliant dry drum part, the insane sitar, and some damn fine lyrics that only Stephen Merritt could have penned. It's from the Pieces of April soundtrack. Hopefully this is the direction that The Magnetic Fields go in for their upcoming album.)

At this moment (02.01.04):
Slightly hung over, and listening to some old Holiday Costume songs. Sometimes it kills me listening to these recordings because the songs were so good. At one point we were at our peak. Oh well...

Last night a whole bunch of us were supposed to go to see 30 plays in 60 minutes, but it wasn't written in the stars. Instead Sarah and I went to Danny's in Bucktown off of Dickens. When we arrived there it was nice and empty with some great punk on the speakers. Eventually the bartender put on Nick Drake's Bryter Layter and it was nice (although he started with side two first). I think we only planned on a few drinks, but that led to four, than five, and maybe six. I cut myself off at four, three Absolute and tonics and a glass of some French red wine. It was either the French red or some zinfandel. The bartender warned me that the red was a bit chalky. I wanted to ask, "Then why are you serving it?" And it was chalky, but I needed the healing power of the wine's antioxidants.