I am not drinking so much lately, not really for any reason other than I am testing to see how crisp my mind is compared to when I drank a lot more. The results thus far have been inconclusive. I think the overabundance of techno-waves going straight to my brain may have been working in cahoots with the alcohol to start making me stupider, but by quitting the drinking, I’ve had good spells, but also very blank long periods, as has been evidenced by how fast I’ve been catching up on these song listings. I think the best solution would be for me to just start writing exclusively on my laptop using the battery power only, preferably standing in the middle of my now empty pigpen with four old milk crates stacked up on each other to make a typing stand, at night, just pacing around at the edge of the woods in the dark. I found a genuine redskin arrowhead back there one time that got kicked up by my goats, so feet have stepped through that area. There is so much psychic pollution on this part of the Earth I scratch around the surface of that it’s easy to think, “I need to stop drinking,” or “man, fuck TV forever,” or really anything. Cell phone towers of Babel, which always look most appropriate when there’s a pack of turkey vultures lurking on the metal bars, putting their turkey vulture shit all over everything. I have satellite internet now, and a giant computer screen that is a portal to all that is evil and monstrous for my children to be corrupted by. Honestly, I would rather have turkey vultures than all this technology, like seriously. I do not pretend to be some sort of luddite because obviously I use all this dumb shit. But it would be funny to me if turkey vultures started going crazy because of all our human psychic pollution and just started attacking living human beings and kamikaze bombing our vehicles. Were I ever to become a billionaire through some sort of sketchy chronology of actions, instead of trying to help Sudan or fight homophobia in American society or find a cure for autism, I’d probably mostly just dedicate my wealth towards training monkeys and vultures to kill people.
By the way, you may not know who Hayes Carll is. Do you remember when Lucinda Williams had that self-titled CD but hadn't done Car Wheels on a Gravel Road yet, and some musically inclined people plus dork critics were like, "blah blah blah Lucinda Williams is the greatest shit ever," but nobody really believed it, and then Car Wheels on a Gravel Road came out and she became the famous Austin City Limits NPR segueway type person she is nowadays? That's where Hayes Carll is.
STEAL "Wild As a Turkey"
NEXT UP: The absolute perfect greatness of one Sir Too Short, coming straight out of Oakland!
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