ACID LIVING ROOM still has a few tracks I recorded with Abusive/Consumer in the KBOO studios---the tracks are manipulated voice (effected by both Abusive and I, in turn)---part of the ongoing excellent programming of Jay Schleidt, host of ALR. Other artists on this show are recommended for deep listening, or music to write to. Music to type to. Enjoy, and check back with the ALR site as he updates it weekly with new programming.

Hi everyone, I just recieved a note from Word Riot that my interview with Chelsea Martin will be posted on December 15th. It's exclusive, it's blunt, it will turn your mind in fond and lofty directions. Chelsea Martin, in case you don't know, has a book called Everything Was Fine Until Whatever (Future Tense Books). If everything was just fine, what happened? Chelsea might tell you with endearing sketches of horned beasts, ceiling fans, and hormonal ambushes in the night. And a refreshing take (ah!) on the world of non-dating, solitude, the quirky growing pains and social awkwardness of coming of age in America.

Item number TWO: Munter Jack has agreed to allow me a reprint of selections from Kinetic Meditations (Fug Press: 2009). Munter Jack, based in the UK, will slice you open with visions of tepid squalor and bottles of booze that leak like battery acid into your frothy, cuddly heads. He will bring you an England like the League of Gentlemen on crack. Get loaded and take a shotgun full of paint to the latest print edition of Naked Lunch. (I doubt Bill would take offense to that, RIP).

More soon. Just a hint of what is to come: In December, the flash fiction stylings of David Moscovich will be featured along with the soundscapes of Abusive/Consumer on a The Belsona Archive podcast. And you. December will be featuring you.

"delirious, antagonistic, impossible, creatismiracole. there are two completely different kinds of imagination, one is the romantic....completely subjective, neurotic....in my case it is absolutely contrary....my mustache is the exact contrast of frederich neitsche." - Salvador Dali, in conversation with David Bryson in 1963.

"Ver ver teh teh. Ver ver teh teh oov upah gif." -Kurt Schwitters

This video was shot inside KBOO radio studios in Portland, Or August of 2009. I had been reading from Cannibal Cuisine but in this moment just improvising vocally with Fiasco Improvisation. Tim Alexander and Jerry Soga doing most of the sound works. Video by Alejandro. The video gets better the longer you watch it. Feel free to scream. Don't think too hard. As promised, more from the Federman files underneath the video.



This is a poem I wrote playing around Federman's name. He said he already beat me to it, he already wrote a poem about his name. So he had to title my poem as well. He gave it the title through emails that we shot back and forth. MOSCOVICH, he wrote. I found a name for your poem -- go see -- I attached it to my poem -- (I haven't included his poem just my version, his was written long before mine of course)

Here is my version of the Federman poem, titled by Raymond Federman:


what is great in man is that he is a bridge and not a goal

FEDERNAME

Federmaniacal
Federmundo
Federdumonde
Federdemain
Federmawatt
Federmanism
Federmanistic
Federmystical
Federmanthanyou
Federmanicpolarity
Federmanicstate
Federminnow
Federmannish
Federmonocle
Federmann
Federmostly
Federmaninacloset
Federmanisaman
Federmunich
Federmaparis
Federmokyo
Federsanpetersburg
Federmabuchurestii
Federmanberg
Federhamburg
Federradio
Federmanation
Federemanation
FedearmanFederman
Feedermeinkampf
Feedorforget
Federmanstairwell
Federmandossier
Federmanitoba
FedermuñecaFedermarzipan
Federmantilldawn
Federmanewyork
Federmanewshooes
Federmanlooseshoes
Federforyabedher
Federmanabetterman
Federmanafeatherman
Federmandeplume
Federhomme
Federbien
Federbesticoulddo
Federbombastic
Federthantelevision
Federmanicstatic
Federbomb
Federnommedeplomb
Federinaditch
Federmolloy
Federmoran
Federmalonedies
Federgodot
Federgigi
Federoldman
Federcomposite
Federscan
Federmalgamation
Federbeckettian
Federbeckettic[etic]
Federbeckettsamman
Federmoinous
Federmanamredef
Federmanoffame
Federmanthesun
Federmanatee
Federprophecy
Federfiveyears
Federyouneed
Federapprenticeship
Federbefore
Federyoucan
Federcallyourself
FederawriterFederitwilltake
Federfive
Federyears
Federhesaid
Federmansaid
Federmanette
Federsucette
Federmashima
Federsmachina
Federstashima
Federmacaffery
Federmadaily
Federmatology
Federmanology
Federmanânc
TheFederToEatYou
Federexpress
Federmanpress
Federmalicious?
Federmanever
Federromantic
Federmaarphy
Federmaanothingstory
Federmaallarmé
Federmaanure
Federmaasurf
Federmaacritique
Federmavorbeste
Federmapoveste
Federomanian
Federmantuform
Federmaswing
Federmanmiss
Federaining
Federveteran
Federmanterpret
Federmonthedouble
Federmanitorleaveit
Federmanoodle
Federmosaicfederman
Federmoimoi
FedermerikaFedamerica
Fedhillaria
Fedallergía
Federfonda
Federmane
Federinnerman
Federouter
Federmaltiplicity
Federnaacomplicity
Federmatural
Federmontreal
Federmundo
Federration
Feduration
Federbeckerette
Federmasturbation
Federmanofwords
Federmanofworlds
Federmannish
Federmaninspanish
Federfrench
Federungaric
Federgermanic
Federmanaddict
Federmalingual
Federmerengue
Federmatwostep
Federmawaltz
Federmachacha
Federmaswinga
Federmaninone
Federmaparker
Federaphona
Federmajazz
Federmatrench
Federmanicure
Federmansays
Federmaniquote
Federmawhen
Federmaone
Federmatakes
Federmaones
Federmadesires Federmafor
Federmaones
Federmaneeds
Federmaor
Federmawhen
Federmaone
Federmatakes
Federmaones
Federmaneeds
Federmafor
Federmaones
Federmadesires
Federmaeros
Federmavanishes

Raymond Federman (1928-2009)
For the moment I am still speechless and hungover with a sense of shock. I hope to write something of my memories of Raymond in the next few days as my fog clears up. I brought out his books, spread them on my writing table this morning. I've been shoving the emotions under a rock since I heard the news. It's time for me to face the music, and face that he really has changed tense. It's difficult to explain what this man meant to me. It's difficult to face the fact he is gone. I promise to post something of my tuna sandwiches with Raymond, something of my meetings with him in Chicago and San Diego. See you in the dreamworld, Raymond. See you on the written page. DM

I have re-posted the Interview I did with Raymond in 2005 for those of you who are curious: FEDERMAN INNER-VIEW

Clawfoot House Benefit Show!
Please come. Clawfoot House is a non-profit venue, a home, a place where local artists can gather and share ideas, host of the Clawfoot Salon, and the experimental series which brings artists to Lincoln, Nebraska who would otherwise have blown straight through. Thanks, Clawfoot House for putting Nebraska on the map.

This Saturday and Sunday is a benefit show featuring a new play written by Robert Stewart (The Living Room) just for our space and music by 9 different bands for our most eclectic lineup ever. Among these rumoured also to play Sunday night is Howlooseanation, with possible creepy remote phone call-in performances from members Mark Baldridge and James Barnes A.K.A Jaroba. More info on Clawfoot House is available at www.clawfoothouse.com.

Here's a fun writing exercise the artist Danny Smith turned me on to. He suggested taking the first and last entry on a page from Webster's dictionary and combine the meanings to create a new word -- he calls the exercise "Webster's Synthesized." He was reminded of this when I sent him a note about a word from James Joyce's Finnegans Wake -- now there's a book with thousands of invented words informed by Joyce's twelve or more spoken languages. Anyway, Danny Smith has come up with some royal ones. Instead of Webster's I used my Chamber's dictionary. Here are some of the ones I came up with this morning on the typewriter. At the end of the list are some unfinished terms which you, dear reader(s) I hope may fill in.


Coccid Cockatrice
a fabulous serpent with the wings of a bird and the head of a cock and a dragon's tail sprung from an infection that results from inhalation of the spores of the fungus coccidioides immitis, often affecting felines or small children, from whose nostrils this creature usually springs.

Hyman Hysteron Proteron
a very rare condition in woman where menopause precedes virginity.

Experimental Exsanguination
one of the various untested methods of Dr. Von Von Leibendorf, a Cuban vampire famous for draining the blood of his subjects using complex Goldberg style machinery (ex. a chicken pecks an egg which breaks the yoke which fills a thimble which drops into a water tank depressing a lever which releases piranhas that devour a mouse whose weight releases a seesaw with a hypodermic needle on the end which pricks the subject.)

Schlemiel Stone
a legendary stone in the northern reaches of Gallic country with a sword stuck inside of it. He who is able to extract the sword would gain extremely clumsy awful powers to lose any battle fought for centuries.

Lout Lozenge
a diamond-shaped parallelogram or rhombus, sweet, often medicated for the purpose of enticing then sedating an ill-mannered or aggressive man or youthful bumpkin.

Here are the ones I didn't write definitions for:

Reindeer Relapse

ICBM Ichthyic

Hack Haggis

Glucose Gnosis

Limbeck Limonite

Life's guarantee: You'll never get out alive.

LETTING GO


Getting into the elevator today the right half buckled and opened up into emptiness and I jump-gripped onto the edge, then climbed through the open door. Later some prick backed into my motorcycle then got out of the car and pissed on it. I saw that the prick was none other than Schneider himself, totally out of character for him to urinate on a motor vehicle. To make up for it, he lit up a joint, handed it to me, then got back into his car. I've never seen Schneider drive before in my life, and I've known him twenty years. Next thing I know I am watching a fresh oyster sparking and juicing it up on a grill. Then a guy in sunglasses sucks it up in a whiff of air. Two women dressed up as paper mache siamese turds, and another in a fly costume sticking to them. Want a shit sandwich? Two butter crackers and fudge. They ask me to empty my wallet. I oblige. The wallet is overflowing with kelp.

A message from Richard Francis.

Here's what we have lined up for this coming Monday's (Aug. 31) Desolo Luna Vox Theatrum(produced by Richard and Sean and many friends) from 8pm to midnight:

As the show happens at 20 S.E. 8th:

Weird Fiction projecting visuals on the outside walls of KBOO--Complete Show--Weird Fiction does interpretive visual projection. They will be listening to the FM signal and performing based upon that. None of their performance will go on the air, unless someone can set up a webstream.

Other Local performers:

Fiasco Music prerecorded, Dr. Id Live, Sean Ongley live

Voices from the Fictionary (David Moscovich) fuses with Abusive/Consumer (J Morales) to become Voices from the Consumer performing their own works plus (with Richard Francis)performing some works by Oliverio Girondo prerecorded in Spanish and English

Broken Hours produced readings (by RF) of Oliverio Girondo

Along with the writings of Oliverio Girondo, there will also be prerecorded performances of these works:

Leonora Carrington's "My Flannel Knickers" and "My Mother Is A Cow" produced by Ani Haines, Fernando Arrabal's "The Two Executioners" produced by Rolf Semprebon and "The Folly Stone" produced by Richard Francis, Tristan Tzara's "The Gas Heart" produced by Sean Ongley

Tune in and enjoy at 90.7 FM or on-line at kboo.fm or better yet come on down to the station at 20 S.E. 8th to both hear and see the show.

Thanks folks,
L O V E
raf

Oh, my. Interviewed in Word Riot [Good Writing No Remorse] by David Hoenigman, the author of Burn Your Belongings. David approached me with a few basic questions and I he answered them the bestest that I he could. Ish. Grab yer pint o fookin' Guinness an position your moose over theese:


Voices From the Fictionary Grilled Juicy Juicy Juicy

UPDATE! from Abusive/Consumer.

I have a gig lined up for us. Wednesday, August 12, 2009. Abusive/Consumer and Voices From the Fictionary [david moscovich].

My friend Matt Hannafin http://www.myspace.com/matthannafin has started a lil series of shows at his place. I'm supposed to play in August so I asked if you could be on the bill. The yard is small and the idea is for people to play small amps or speakers at low volume to blend with the sounds of the neighborhood. We would play a solo set a piece and then a duo.

A transcontinental outgrowth of Brooklyn, NY's AVANT YARD performances, presented since 2005 by electronics player Brian Moran and percussionist Matt Hannafin, AVANT YARD WEST presents improvisational music and art performances in an outdoor setting, for small audiences. Artists are encouraged to perform quietly, using the ambient sounds and atmosphere of the neighborhood as an integral part of their performances.

The Yard will open at 8:00pm and the performance will begin promptly at 8:30.

Where

AVANT YARD WEST is located in Portland's Concordia neighborhood at 5239 NE 31st Ave., two blocks north of Alberta. Entrance is via the wooden gate located at the right rear corner of the house. Please be careful entering and exiting, due to the construction taking place next door.

Fixed seating is extremely limited, so audience members are encouraged to bring pillows or other ersatz chairs.

Admission is free, though donations for the artists will be accepted.

This is where I want to go. And so by design, since you are reading this along with me, you must agree. You have no choice. You want to listen to their voice. Is. Voices. These. Are. Voices from the. Fictionary. Hand pictionaried. Be there in a red flyer wagon. Be there in a wheelbarrow. Be there floating in red gin and the ink of narcissus. Break your mirrors and listen.

It was a legendaryary night at the karaoke club. My evil twin, Rex Ruthore had come out burning with The Greatest American Hero, leaving the crowd in a puddle of mixed awe, rapture and nitrous ecstasy. The applause nearly knocked him off his feet which sent me reeling with an exalted Barry Manilow afterglow outside the 'Nights of Jenny' stripclub, where I was inspired to do an unprecedented air-guitar dropkick backspin luther van dross smooth move special which landed my ankle in just the right position to floor me onto the concrete. This is something I did all by myself, and can be proud of. I was then escorted to my friend's car and supplied with crutches and a boot. Since I have gained thirty-six pounds and have spent an egregious amount of time watching the films of John Carpenter. On the bright side of things, however, I received correspondence from a strapping young Scottish buck [Craig Buchanan] whose poetry is reminiscent at times of Billy Connoly and at others of a straight shot of Kentucky mountain whiskey. With a Scottish accent. Craig [Craig Buchanan], in his letter regarding The Dutch Wife Chronicles, said that he [Craig Buchanan] had written a poem for nearly each of the titles in the 'handbook'. Now, just to freshen your memory, The Dutch Wife Chronicles -- we write the titles you write the story [Paul Blair/David Moscovich] has a rubber doll on nearly every page. What does this have to do with the creative endeavor, you might add? You might try subtracting to find out. Which is what we did with The Chronicles. We subtracted the stories. As if we had ever written them. Seriously, though, the stories aren't there, just the titles. And it's themed around Dutch Wives, you got that. And so does Craig Buchanan. Now as I've stated in the introduction to the book, it's not that the authors are inimitably in love, in lust, head over wheels shoving fists into sex dolls or sweating over their every seam and stitch seeking them throughout the land in every sex shop imaginable peeking behind the lavender lingerie the leather the leather the cuffs the peepshows the flyers for whores the sex museums the girl in the jean skirt standing on the corner with a hello kitty bracelet and a tattoo of a sphinx in minx with the d-cup bra with the tantalizing pinky furry cotton candy handcuffs it's not that we're obsessed with these often meaningless objects of capitalism and creativity melting into one perfect union of woman and plastic, no, but as a rhetoric, as a subject for a rubber dialectic, a false philosophy of latex air, yes, it is for the fascination of human diversity that we have pursued this noble goal. And Craig [Buchanan] [Craig Buchanan] the Scottish poet, has written many things inspired by this book, one of which I am about to read to you right now, aloud, but which you might decide to read by yourself, here, in this electronica, below.




Airms and legs



The guy had these fucking
manky hands
always looked like
he’d just come off
a twelve hour shift
in a baby stranglin’ factory.
he was always whingeing
bout puncture repair kits
for the
blow-up dolls
which he bought
from my shop.
And always wanted to
closely examine
the latex vaginas
out of the boxes,
poking at em
with those
black hands.

Day in question
he was mumbling
some shit or other,
i must have been
feelin inquisitive
“eh?”
“uv funt a wiy ay keep thum blown up.”
“what?”
should have just left it there,
but went
“what?”
“u sez uv funt a wiy ay keep thum blown up –
likes.”
“aye…
what…
how?”
“u cut the airms and legs oaf ay thum un u
stuff thum wi auld paper und tights.”

My bewilderment
forced me
to enquire of
this
man
what the fuck
he was talking about
“where the fuck
do you git the tights?”
-“just ken lyin about the hoose, auld yins
likes.”
“Fuck –
and where do you cut the arms and legs off?”
“mu garage likes...”
“i meant,
never mind,
never mind what a meant
if yer no buyin anything
Then get the fuck
out a my shop…
sir.”




Craig Buchanan is a poet and writer from Scotland, an often grey country renowned for strong drink, third world level mortality rates and domestic violence. In the haar of this blue funk lurk chance encounters with drunk she-men, sexual deviants and the gentlemen of the road – channelling these unheard entities is this poets work. And it is vital, and often dangerous work, which probably won’t be featuring on any Scottish tourism brochures. Come to Scotland we’ve some beautiful mountains and islands, and we don’t use dogs for live shark bait, yet.

Sometimes you just have to hand it to French television.

New interview up on Rain Taxi. This one concerns David Hoenigman, a Clevelander who calls Tokyo his home, and it shows. The novel is called Burn Your Belongings, and it does not read like a grocery store paperback bestseller. And that's one of the reasons I like reading it, also because it's readable upside down as well as hanging from the ceiling. David would probably encourage all of that, based on what he said in the interview. There are many things about this novel that are hard to pin down, and soft to pin up. Take it or leave it, David Hoenigman's novel is atypical in your not so average way. And we, the atypical generation, are here to pick up what he's putting down. Have a gander at the interview here.

Today Whitney Woolf sent me a poem. Today this morning I recorded the sounds of birds in a city park. The rare red-breasted cardinal. The even more elusive pigeon. The city crow. The robin. Aviary rarities, ahem..... Whitney Woolf's poem:


visit in your cadillac,
trimmed with lace and feathers
riding on the wings of a boa constrictor
suffocating on raw cat food

them thar hills smell fresh
absurdists can't be absurd all the time
then they'd be consistent.

blink!
ww

ओल्ड इंग्लिश स्पेल्लिंग बी

Portland Bike Ensemble Live in Japan. Vinyl. 200 copies.

We played with the idea of calling it the Portland Bike Duo back in 2006, as Kelvin, Shane, Mark, Whitney and J.P. (all quite indispensible members) were unable to make the tour. That left Craig and myself. For filling out the sound we recruited Shayne Bowden, who played with us at the Tetra and Kitakyushu gigs. That left the two of us playing most of the gigs as a duo. With the bikes we were an ensemble. And I felt that we were faithfully carrying the sound. All in all I`d say we stayed true to the Portland Bike Ensemble credos, unspoken yet understood collectively by members, staving off the tempatation of rhythm and basically doing a lot of listening, allowing the music to reveal itself minimally and organically. The bicycle is not at all a gimmick instrument -- anyone who might try to approach it as such would be best to stay away. Each bicycle has its own resonances, its own tricks and switchbacks, just like any instrument. There is a vocabulary that has to be developed, deranged, detuned, magnified. It should be noted that following one of these performances, Paul Blair, mighty Scotsman, did innovate the sound by using his gluteus muscles upon the tire tread. Woe is me. What is the sound of one hand reaching for the pedal and the other hand listening to the sound of the hand reaching for the pedal?

EQUIPMENT USED: Two random bicycles donated by local folk, contact microphones, four channel mixer.

LABEL: Olde English Spelling Bee. PS. I have remained in Japan so I don`t know how things are developing back home, but I enjoyed this recent performance.