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Sunday, August 31, 2008



I know it's tempting to curl up and pretend that Bumbershoot doesn't exist—the crowds, the heat, the piles of fried rice you inevitably step in—but Bumbershoot is a necessary evil. Especially this year. Today's lineup is littered with acts that are worth your trouble, like thrashcore locals These Arms Are Snakes and the delightfully weirdo experimental solo act Final Fantasy. And assuming your Depends® aren't overflowing by 9:00 p.m., you oldsters can stick around for Stone Temple Pilots. (Seattle Center, 11 am–11 pm, $40, all ages.)


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Sure, everyone should go...especially since they released the gunman from Folklife back into society.

"A Snohomish man charged in the shooting of two people at the Northwest Folklife Festival won't see further jail time for the incident.

Clinton Chad Grainger, who spent 78 days in jail following the May 24 shooting, was sentenced to time served Friday after pleading guilty to two counts of third-degree assault."

Posted by John Bailo | August 31, 2008 11:34 AM

$40 for one day WOW, Seattle ain't for the poor anymore.

Posted by Sargon Bighorn | August 31, 2008 11:42 AM

Meh. This year's lineup is weak. Definitely not worth $100 for the entire weekend.

Posted by keshmeshi | August 31, 2008 12:11 PM

They Are Building The Perfect School?

Bumbershoot and The Weather Makers

The Economist
July 22ND-28TH 2006,

....reminds often for those who review in thursday print, statements facts and opinions on the actions and feelings of what is close at hand, far from near and saddened by the coarse obituary of forget me nots.

Journalism indeed.

Page 83 of that issue, Syd Barrett.

Certainly far from a forget me not, his life and band of jolly Rodgers is at once the happy and saddened reminder of adults in the stream of life and the stone of death... escape beyond where the clouds obscure.

The first time my eyes were obscurred by

Well.... of course for a January baby it was when the medicine of the moment directly applied to the temples by the physician, like clamps they pulled me from the womb.

Yesterday I was fortunate enough to hear the words of a man who came to a place to rest and eat where as he said, God had directed him to eat.

We spoke of topics that friends and aquaintances often speak of when traveling on the road.

Often forgetful of names, it is the faces of people and places that bring the story to life for my memories.

For that beautiful sad man and his words and tears... I felt we were sharing a requiem morning.

We did not agree on every thing we discussed, and that is how it is in life;

yet we did part as men shaking hands and smiling at one and another.

Further on still in the thoughts of responsibility... I do not believe that beautiful sad man is anymore responsible for my anger and confusion at the things individuals cannot change on their own than he is responsible for my words raining down like bombs on the shores of humanity.

Scott Weiland, did they send you my thoughts and lyrics and notes for

' Come On Chemist '?

I hope they have and if they have not my wish is that they arrive to you soon... very soon, the sooner the better.

I had a groove going on early in the morning recently ( music of course running through my brains...) and because I have come to rely on the outdoor observers to capture and transfer those thoughts words and vocal phrasings to hopefully pass them in fierce kindness, that reliance on my part is frequently in transition.

Paper Transfers:

The weather report continues today with the follow up storms against New Orleans again...
as if clouds and electricity have no place in the small hearths and warrens of the coasts.

really... yes it's true just like the cyclotonics and sound frequencies jamming in the skies.


yeah... page 37 on the 2006 version of that thursday...

" sooner or later it adds up."
Pioneer Town
July 22ND-28TH

Bumbershootists alignments and the frequencies of love and hate.

Why hate?

That's a word... I would prefer not to relinquish to the foolhearty.

Que pas sue pasa?

Your castle sue castle?

For these kinds of emotions I would like to share a dream I received this morning.

I don't kid around with these kinds of dreams.

Everyone who believes in their dreams and needs not the interpreter to define life for them understands what is manifest before their waking eyes...

and surely people love to have discourse hashing it out over the meanings and verification of those dreams.

Mine was like this this morning and I immediately walked out of the hall and called it,

63 blue.

I climbed through a map. The buss markings on the screen were replications; The second map a duo of the first for neighborhood higher up on the hill.

The second map of dots neighborhoods and bus lines seemed larger.. a different scale of size: in the dream that moved it shrunk again to fit superimposed over the first like a copy.

My grandfather was with me in a pool

My daughter was young then.

5 to 7 years old.

A bus drove down the hill like a surf board into the pool and I was the bus as my spirit eye floated out of the bus through the walls that dematerialized and I slid into the water.

I watched her as if she were holding her head up above the water... and she fell backwards into the lake.

Falling downwards into the pool her eyes closed.

She didn't come up as soon as I thought she might and I began to worry that she would drown.

Reaching down I pulled her into my arms and she came out of the deep and the surface revealed her eyes closed and no breath coming from her.

In my arms the water.... the water left her mouth, clearly... and she didn't breath.

Limp as she was, my hand to her back forcing the air and water to exchange form of earth and sea.

Her eyes opened and she had changed.

Wobbley and teetery... she fell back against the floor of the hallway screaming in pain with her hands to her head.

She died.

I was horrified.

I shit you not.

This was a horrific feeling.

The embelishment of prose here for your reading is to soften the fact that my 19 year old daughter is something that I would kill for... if, I could pinpoint the beam that skilled into her brain in electronic warfare.

And for that I know hell on earth.

Thats what I would give you oh maker of electronic warfare on my children.

That's why I know why I was tested in gasworks park.

I know as an adult in 2008 that these machines mankind has built up for protection can kill from space, in home spaces here on earth... in street spaces private and public.

Weather Control for the unbelievers?

Soilent Green?

This was your interpretation of shadaracht at the well not mine.

Indira Ghandi?

Benazir Bhutto?

Abraham Lincoln... John F. Kennedy....

When your myth and reality bears witness to all nations in all tounges and you have this dream for bad or good omen in a good land... then maybe you will think twice about judging others and condemning strangers to hell.

Posted by danielbennettkieneker | August 31, 2008 1:10 PM

thank GOD the libraries are closed tomorrow so we won't be subjected to your incomprehensible ramblings, danielbennettkieneker. to quote my good friend mr. poe, go kill yourself.

Posted by scary tyler moore | August 31, 2008 1:57 PM

Is that this weekend? That's how irrelevant it has become for me. The last time I went, coincidentally, was to see Beck, the night Princess Di was killed.

Posted by elswinger | August 31, 2008 4:20 PM

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