27 April 2018

These are getting worse I know but who the X is forcing you to read ’em?

Dear diary,

Yes, I’ve said it before; now let me say it again, cuz I really mean it. When the weather is nice outside—sunny, for instance, with a light breeze, like today—it seems that the world is mocking me. For I feel fear about the future, and the weather should reflect my anxiety. The weather should always be frightful. The outside world should remain in tune with its most intense perceiver. Now, you might disagree that the maddest mind of all belongs to ME; however, one thing is certain: No truly functioning mind is happy. Not now, anyway. So this planet should be boiling over with lava, or there should be thunder & lightning nonstop, & rain flooding the interior of every convertible. (In 2018 A.D., the term “convertible” referred to a motor coach with a detachable roof. Can you believe it?)

Today I was reading further in the Stevens bio (I’m still engrossed by the biography of Wallace Stevens that I bought last week) and suddenly I encountered FIVE FULL PAGES dedicated to Duchamp! (For those among my readership who’ve never read me, I should explain that I’m a great admirer of Marcel Duchamp.) I did not expect this. I knew that W.S. and M.D. had a run-in or two, but I wasn’t aware that it would justify eating up so much of Stevens’ own Official Life Story. But, according to what was written (and words cannot lie), the two met in person: they dined together, they spoke French together.

So that’s what excites me nowadays. Encountering the name of one long-dead hero, in a book about another long-dead hero.

I was going to quote a bunch of stuff about Duchamp and Stevens, but now I’ve changed my mind. I can tell that you’re not interested. You’re just sitting there, staring at your computing device’s screen with sad, sad eyes. So I’ll try to cheer you up by talking about some junk.

I have a brother-in-law who lives in Colorado. He came to Burnsville recently, to visit his biological parents. He sent me a text message and we rendezvoused at a park. He had nothing going on, that day, so he decided to accept our offer to come and ride to our apartment in our car. (We drive a battery-powered plastic Toyota that has a battering ram affixed to its stainless-steel grille.) So we spent the rest of the day listening to a lot of the music that Will is interested in (my bro-in-law’s Christian name is Will), because he brought some albums with him for show-&-tell (show-&-tell is an exercise in which schoolchildren display an item and discuss the detrimental effects it has had upon their development). Then we dropped Will off at his parents’ house.

The next day, Will borrowed his parents’ vehicle; so he didn’t need a ride. He arrived in the evening, just prior to the Hour of the Wolf. He said, “Let’s watch a movie.” So I said, “Do you have a preference which one we watch?” And he said, “Let’s watch whatever you would’ve been watching if I hadn’t come here tonight.” So we ended up enjoying ALL FIVE SEASONS of Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job! (2007-2010) – or, rather, just the first season-and-a-half, because, after that, our guest stood up and left—he said “I gotta go,” and then he said, “goodnight”—for it would’ve been logically impossible to watch all five seasons in just one single sitting: there’s too many eternal moments to fit into clocktime. But that would’ve been my desire, to screen the whole shebang (which, for the record, we did—my sweetheart and I—yet again, over the next few days).

But, since that evening, I haven’t heard back from my brother-in-law. I hope our choice of programming didn’t offend him.

But the part where I left off reading in the Stevens biography deals with his time on the road, laboring for his beloved corporation. (“Being the young capitalist he was, he was looking for even greater opportunities for getting ahead.”) So the following sentence made me want to try contrasting some indoors ideas with some outdoors ideas.

You don’t even see the country; you see law offices and hotel rooms.

Are we ever going to experience anything good? Any of us? Or is life just a torment? The bad comes instantly and unasked-for; whereas, what is desired must be striven after for YEARS until it is finally skirted past while remaining out-of-reach.

Woods and fields. That’s outdoors material. Indoors material is vinyl paneling with a wood-like pattern pressed upon it, and paintings of fields. Fake grass to golf on, like a putting green near a mahogany desk.

Already I love both outdoors and indoors ideas. Who doesn’t love the actual woods and fields? But this law office’s walls are eerie: you won’t find THIS on Jupiter. Therefore I like it, because of its rarity. My boss’s old trailer had walls just like this. And paintings are often more interesting than their overt subject, because they’re like nature dipped in mind.

Not all fruits are better when coated with chocolate. Is the same true for landscapes? Are some landscapes ruined when they’re churned through a painter’s impression of them? I tend to think not. My stance is that everything improves when marinated in intellect. I think that God even yearns to think like humankind thinks. Sloppy and sexy, our thought never says no. Not even to nothing.

The negations are never final: The father sits
In space, wherever he sits, of bleak regard . . .

He says no to no and yes to yes. He says yes
To no; and in saying yes he says farewell.

That’s from part IV of Stevens’ The Auroras of Autumn. It’s one of the poems that my sweetheart and I have read together repeatedly at local parks – we even spent a portion of last summer reading this very autumnal poem; so it came to mind now, being that our subject is the great outdoors.

Now I’m thinking of a stone. A gray stone. What is the office or hotel room’s equivalent of a gray stone? Is it a chair? A swivel chair? With a high back, shiny and purple? Or perhaps a bar stool? Built to last? From a choice qualified vendor?

A hermit on an island, and a lawyer at a table.

A skiff on a lake. A bar of soap in a sink.

The reflection of one’s face in the clear water. The image of the president on television.

A living tropical bird versus a battery-powered animatronic toucan.

Alright, I’m getting tired of this game, so now I’ll react to an email I received from the state, titled “New Job Opening of the week”:

Imagine a career where you are a first responder to a medical emergency or other critical situation. Do you got what it takes to become a Firefighter?

No. I am sure that I’d be bad at this job. In order to succeed, I need to be able to fail. I like to fall flat on my face and then revise the take so it looks like I flew into heaven. If you apply this attitude to the realm of emergency medical technicians, you get fill-in-the-blank. So I’ll have to turn down your offer.

Join a team of dedicated professionals of the Eagan Fire Department who will seize every opportunity to provide compassionate, prompt, state-of-the-art services to ensure the safety and well-being of our community.

OK, you talked me into it. Now I WILL become a firefighter and perform cardiopulmonary resuscitation on . . . Would it be better if I end this unfinished lie with the phrase “six pussycats” and then explain how I rescued them from trees, OR should I end with a list of commonplace names instead, so that you must imagine so many sinners being made to suffer the touch of my lips to their nose: “Peter, Paul, Priscilla, Pilate, and Potiphar.”

And the LORD God breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and the clone became resuscitated. (Genesis 2:7)

Watching snowflakes fall softly on the grass outdoors is exactly the same as gazing at a toy snow-globe after giving it a shake. You found this item, by the way, on your hotel room’s desk. (Jiggling the globe agitates the particles that are suspended in its liquid so that their movement more accurately resembles a genuine cataclysm.)

P.S.

Below is the next full rap demo from my big bin of rap demos. This one has no defining traits beyond the fact that all its background beats and rhythms were stolen from my brother’s drum machine. As I explained before, I bought my brother Paul a drum machine for Christmas, wayback when, and he toyed around with it for a while; then I borrowed it from him, once upon a time, and discovered that he’d saved a bunch of patterns inside of its memory: the funny thing is that, because this mechanical medium was as informal as a sketch pad, many of these percussion patterns that my brother had stockpiled within it were obviously aborted ideas or just plain screwings-around, so it amused me to try to rap over them. That’s why some of the beats on the album sound a little too sparse, a little too janky. It’s all by design.

And if you’re wondering why the title is Free-Form 5 when the only other album I’ve released from that series is Free-Form 3, the reason is simply that this was the cassette that came back when the crane went clamping. It’s like Bingo, and I’m the host drawing random numbers. (In the United States, Bingo is a game of chance in which each player matches numbers printed in different arrangements on 5×5 cards with the numbers that the host draws at random, marking the selected numbers with tiles.) I hope someday to release 1, 2, and 4, so that we can all yell the famous, five-letter catchphrase. (When a player finds the selected numbers are arranged on their card in a row, they call out “Bingo!” to alert all participants that a state of peak fun has been achieved. This prompts the game host to examine the suspect’s card for verification of the win. The host’s job is then to find any technicality that will disqualify the winning player from taking home the jackpot.)

As usual, I’ll attempt to embed the tape from both YouTube and Bandcamp, so that you can enjoy the illusion of having a CHOICE in healthcare providers. And I’ll paste the lyrics below.

(Here’s the full cover and insert. Click to enlarge. I screwed up and made the image too small when I rendered the video file below, but it took so long to upload the thing that it wouldn’t be worth fixing.)

YT:

BC:

Free-Form 5
by Bryan Ray (MCB)

LYRICS:

1.
Untitled (Bolling Vs. Cherry Point)

I’m so hot when I rock
I wear two socks and a halter top
I drink soda but call it pop
I put ice cubes never rocks

Bolling Air Force Base Little League Cardinals
Cherry Point Marine Corps Air Station Devil Dogs

MCB I’m like Batman
Cuz I have wings that flap and a yellow black hat band
Cuz I like to rap real hard
That’s why they call me The Hard Bard
MCB with pink hair
Now I’m on the mike like a raging bear
I’m so crazy I’ll rap
With lazy rhyme schemes maybe and perhaps
Now I’m in freak mode wearing my propeller hat
Filling up your belfry with cellar bats
Feeding my hellcat ambrosia swimming with Sonia
But then Sonia died because she caught pneumonia
I am the soul-body concoction of dirt
But you are the divine spark snobby jerk
I’m fancy MCB the lassie
I always curtsy when I’m thru dancing
Now I’m like rummaging around your trash
Cuz I heard you be throwing out awesome crap
But a giant space monster robot from Mars
Came and pummeled me hard now I’m behind bars

Bolling Air Force Base Little League Cardinals
Cherry Point Marine Corps Air Station Devil Dogs

MCB the pregnant earth goddess
Buy my product and I’ll remain modest

2.
A Serious Message

I like to wear the fishnet nylons
Right on MCB fight on with your fishnet nylons
Thank you finally my fans support me
You can’t abort me
I’m not even born yet
Blowing my horn fresh
Now it is harvest time I’m dying a corn death
Only to be reborn as a fish
But I broke my neck falling into my niche
Now I’m undead Fish Man red eyes unclosable
Throwing my camera at you cuz it’s disposable
I don’t even know what you thought I would say
I’m a lot like Snoop but I’m more like Dre
MCB rock the mike
Round them all up and expedite

Live life fully each day thru
Believe in health, believe in you

MCB in the garden of evil
Petting the trees nice and eating the people
Flying around on a cherub
Throwing a bomb grenade straight at your marriage
I have blue hair shaved in the shape of a coxcomb
Spiking it up and cold poking your box fro
My name’s Bryan I’m selling you vacuums
You better buy one or I will attack you
Now I’m on the top of the mountain of evil
Eating the trees nice and petting the people
Total disaster mayhem strike them slay them
Eating my Golden Grahams

I’m the teen werewolf and he is my girlfriend
Rolling down the block in my Caddie / Jeep / Celestial Whirlwind

MCB rocking sweet
Cutting the cut board with my teeth
I am MCB I’m on the beat and I’m ready to speak
I haven’t speaked in weeks

Spin ’em around and watch them fall
It’s dreidels y’all yeah dreidels y’all

My name is MCB you know me
All my shows are free because they’re only three
Minutes long, cuz I perform three songs
Always going way far when the way is wrong
Now my hair is dyed orange I’m dying of mold
My estranged daughter she is like 60 years old
But I’m only 23 so I make this statement
They should really lower my child support payments
I have no hair, that’s better than yo hair
Cool it now MCB don’t even go there
I’m a hypnotist hypnotizing people to get into this
I’m St. Nicholas homiciding vehiculous
Tricky B stargazing coming out car parking
Joyriding your house and going up stargazing
Now I’m rapping to the hip hop ghetto
But I’m making a mistake putting in heavy metal
On the DAT machine. Now I get pelted with tomatoes
Cuz nobody liked my new song about dreidels
Now I’m at my house and I’m grounded to my room
With nothing else to do but practice my bassoon
So I kill myself in seven different ways
Cuz I’m allowed to do that cuz this is my tape

3.
Rap with Thread Spool

I have sharp fangs that grow for miles
And a four-track with fourteen thousand dials
Now I’m north-by-northwest my mouth is foaming
Gimme the keys mom I wanna go boating
I have an orange peel the shape of a horse
And I’m totally in love with the bearded Gore
I’m convinced that Texas is a Mexican brothel
And plus I’m apostle but nobody wants those
I go dash thru the snow with Prancer
Until Prancer caught antler cancer
And I got lanced by the Hanson trio
Next year I turn the great big 3-0

[Super cool thread spool]

I’m so old I think Cher is cute
Wait that’s not Cher that’s the 2 Live Crew
Oh now I’m on a snow blower plowing your garden
Calling my dolly back and begging her pardon
When she denies that, I enter a dither
Hey that was no dolly that was Theodore Wizard
My name is Butter Bryan I like to eat butter
I live in an igloo the shape of an udder
That is squirting out ice milk and making you cry
Although there is no reason to cry over milk ice
Now I’m dressing like a peacock listening to bebop
Finding a street rock and giving it sweet talk
Look at your nice curves you lovely rock
Now I’m being attacked help it’s pelting stop
Now I’m stoned and helpless and my bones are pelted
And plus I’m so lonely cuz my snow cone melted

[Thread spool, thread spool, super cool thread spool]

Thread spool totally dead cool
I’m at med school using this red tool
To spool my thread spool that spools out thread for miles
Don’t give me a ticket for kicking my two styles
Dang this thread spool helps this red tool
Spool thread over my head real smooth
Lurking around med school
With this thread draped over my head
Playing it dead playing it cool
Pulling all the girls Shannon Krystal and Cheri
Who wants to touch this thread spool I married
Everyone’s staring med school is going crazy
I’m totally lazy having only one baby
Lacing my baby with thread
Tracing a path back thru the avalanche now my baby is dead
Did I say avalanche oh I meant labyrinth
I have a thread spool that makes me invincible
Critically beating myself turning me black and blue
You are just Mister Who
I went to med school
Now I am Doctor Who
Kicking my soccer spool
Threading and mocking you
Even threatening blocking you
Shannon and Cheri plus Krystal stole my toga
I drive a battery powered plastic Toyota
With a batter ram substituting Spam for humans
Equal opportunity looting
Asking who’s the best
Doing it real good like Brutus says
I’m on a one man mission to save Budapest
My name’s Love & Respect I’m your lawyer
I’m also a cosmic bad person destroyer
And now you’re destroyed and your checks are void
Your name’s Timbaland my name’s Voit
I’m from Detroit my rap is cool
That brought me back to thread spool fool
Now I’m spooling out everywhere
Thread sewing ghetto ware
I wear ghetto ware thread from med school
I’m from Kansas whipping up avalanches
Building a labyrinth inside of Atlantis
Put down the stillborn Minotaur, Captain Wet Nurse
Winding in reverse with Reebok fever

4.
Brown Rice & Drinking Cups

Brown rice
We got the brown rice
You want the brown rice
I got the brown rice

Brown rice it’s good to eat
I’ll tell you once it’s a tasty treat
High fiber very good tasting
I would say it’s tasting better than pastries
I like the rice cuz the rice is white
But then even the brown type of rice is hype
When I’m on the street and I need to eat
I be moving my feet to the brown whole wheat
Meaning the brown rice that’s what I meant to say
My name’s MCB I’m not MCA
And I’m back on the track with a paper bag sack
And I’m twice as wack with the rice that’s black
Pump the mike with words about rice
And I like to bite the brown or white type
But I gotta let my rice cool off
Cuz I made my rice way too hot

Brown rice
We got the brown rice
You want the brown rice
I got the brown rice

Drinking cups
We got the drinking cups
You want the drinking cups
Here’s a drinking cup

I like to drink out of cups a lot
Because cups are cool yeah cups are hot
They’re great for storing some liquid in
And if you got a pen you can stick it in
Cuz I use my cup to hold my pens
But if you do that be careful then
Cuz you may want to take a drink sometime
And next thing you know then you will die
Cuz you got a pen lodged in your throat
I use my cup to scoop the moat
I use my cup to drink some suds
We use our cup to shovel mud
I sail the seas in a giant cup
And went down under and came back up
I bought my cup at a retail store
Probe all you want I won’t tell you more
I paid two bucks for this cool cup
And these two cups cost like four bucks

Drinking cups
We got the drinking cups
You want the drinking cups
I got the drinking cups

5.
Awesome Rapper

Look at me the awesome rapper
Awesome rapping really cool
Listen to my awesome raps
And watch the awesome things I do
I’m the awesome funky rapper
Funky dancing to the beat
I have really awesome hair
And super funky awesome teeth
I’m so awesome look at me
Spreading awesomeness around
Sprinkling some awesome powder
On my awesome funky sound
Now I’m dancing up and down
I’m awesome in my dancing shoes
Dancing really funky super awesome
Till I fall and bruise

Here is a good style to listen to
I’m MCB I’m as tight as a shoe
When I roll down the river inside my canoe
I am sporting a crew cut but lacking a crew
I’m the ghetto rap dragon the rap destroyer
Rolling thru the hood with fourteen lawyers
Going to a Chinese restaurant and fasting
Up on the table is my boombox blasting
Why do you only sell Chinese food
How come no fries or burgers too

Look at me the awesome rapper
Awesome rapping really cool
Listen to my awesome raps
And watch the awesome things I do
I’m the awesome funky rapper
Funky dancing to the beat
I have really awesome hair
And super funky awesome teeth
I’m so awesome look at me
Spreading awesomeness around
Sprinkling some awesome powder
On my awesome funky sound
Now I’m dancing up and down
I’m awesome in my dancing shoes
Dancing really super funky awesome
Till I fall and bruise

6.
Untitled (MCB You Rap So Good)

I make rap that’s as big as the sun
Plus I’m always putting processed meat between buns
And my hair is pink and my eyes are yellow
My sword is made of jelly that wiggles like Jell-O

Now MCB now you’ve gone too far
Cuz we caught you doing that in your car
Cuz you shouldn’t do that but now you’re busted

I’m MCB and I’m dripping with mustard
I’m crawling thru my window like Dukes of Hazzard
Cuz I’m working for Hazmat but that doesn’t matter
Cuz nothing really matters even working for Hazmat
I’m rapping mad on the track with a bad hat

MCB you rap so good
We are so glad that you’re in our hood
And we are happy you rap for us
You have a rap style we can trust
We love your trustworthy rap style much
Cuz just like a truck it revs and bucks

Yes I’m happy that I rap like this
Cuz it’s truly unthinkable for me to ever quit
What could I really do if I retired from rap
Probably stand on the corner selling buckets of crack

Oh MCB no don’t do that
Don’t stand on the corner selling buckets of crack
Just keep saying raps that slam the track
You’re awesome cool rad totally wack

Why did I come to your choir concert waving a gun
Oh I think I remember yes because it was fun
Plus I hate all singers and I only like rap
Plus I’m a true gangsta like Lil’ Dap


A NOTE FROM THE RAPPER: I Bryan do hereby pledge to continue uploading my old rap demos at Bandcamp & YouTube (I still have a half-empty dustbin of cassettes that I need to archive), because I understand that my artistic output constitutes important evidence, which shall aid futurity’s alien historians in determining what went wrong with humankind.

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