Official Inc.

Rex Nitro - Laserjumanji Comedy Album

2011-03-09T18:57:00.000-08:00

From the Bay Area's foremost conceptual comedians Sammy Franco and Jesse Elias comes- Rex Nitro Laserjumanji!

WHOA- Rex Nitro is a totally awesome grown-up with a brain filled with flavor-blasted green-apple toxic waste from the 90s. HEY KIDS - Get advice on safety, arcade etiquette, extreme sports, changing the world and saving the rain forest! Don't listen too loud - hearing damage is totally lame-o! N-N-N-NITRO.

Click here to Download the Full Album

Preview Tracks:
Rex Nitro - Laserjumanji Preview by Official Inc.

THIS WILL BE THE MOST EXTREME+ HILARIOUS COMEDY ALBUM YOU WILL LISTEN TO ALL YEAR.

YEAH ARROW & ATLANTIS HAUNT

2011-01-25T11:37:00.000-08:00

Newish pre-barbershop-era jams from What Have the Unborn Done For Us? for That Ass. Or mind. Or ass. Mindass. Assmind. Hear em:

YEAH ARROW/ATLANTIS HAUNT EXCLUSIVE 7" by What Have the Unborn Done

What Have the Unborn Done for Us? Live at KZSU with Brick

2010-12-31T17:59:00.000-08:00

Thanks to Brick at KZSU 90.1 fm for hosting an all night show with members of What of the Unborn Done for Us? The show was an undeniable success devolving into pure nonsense and neo-glossolalia as the hours disappeared into the morning. Since the band neglected to bring any instruments the set is mostly acapella. For those who didn't stay up for the craziness, the live performances of WUDU have been compiled for your listening pleasure by the folks here at Official Inc. Start your year or end it with this mind-blowing journey into minds of 4 truly twisted individuals. Make sure to catch Brick's show Orangasm on Wednesday nights from 0:00-12:00. Happy New Year!

What Have the Unborn Done for Us? Live on KZSU w/ Brick by What Have the Unborn Done

LISTEN TO THE WHOLE THING YOU WILL NOT DISAPPOINT. Or skip around.

"this album is everything that's right and wrong with our generation." - Sammy Franco, Producer

Buckingham Wines & Spirits 2.0 Mixtape

2010-11-20T11:54:00.000-08:00

Buckingham Wines & Spirits is the redux of the secret mixtape by LIL BEN remixed by Ex Princess. The mix features music by LIL BEN, What Have the Unborn Done for Us?, Flora and Waverly, Joel Reber, and Ex Princess.

Buckingham Wines & Spirits 2.0 Mixtape by Official Inc.

Track list -

01 BIG LOOKS - LIL BEN

02 Green Bottle - What Have the Unborn Done For Us?

03 WAIT - LIL BEN

04 CHUPA LA CHEAPA (Instrumental) - LIL BEN

05 Decivilize - What Have the Unborn Done For Us?

06 THAT IS HOT DUDE (Instrumental) - LIL BEN

07 Food (Against U) - Flora and Waverly

08 VIP Technique - LIL BEN & Joel Reber

09 Lost Guardian - Ex Princess

10 KA KA BOOM (Instrumental) - LIL BEN

11 WHO THIS (Instrumental) - LIL BEN

12 HONKY (Instrumental) - LIL BEN

13 APPLE JACKS - LIL BEN

14 TIME WARNER (Instrumental) - LIL BEN

Local LA Bands - When.i.o.d, Anus Kings, Fantastica Bastidas

2010-10-13T12:53:00.000-07:00

These are a few videos of some smaller bands I have enjoyed seeing live in the past few years.

When.i.o.d
I saw these guys play when they were still in highschool and was blown away. They were a part of what was called the AMAR Collective with bands Naima Earth and Not The Government for a while. I don't know where they are now.

Anus Kings
I had the fortune of hosting these two at a house show in 2008. Total sweethearts. Punk as fuck. Video by LA art champion Vim Crony.

Fantasticas Bastidas
I'm pretty sure this band is going to blow up eventually. Notice Brian from Anus Kings as the skeleton boy. Again, video by Vim Crony (shot at The Smell).

Gumshoes Reviews - Soul Kitchen (2010)

2010-10-11T17:44:00.000-07:00

Firstly,

I wanted to congratulate Los Angeles for the success of its first CicLAvia on Sunday. Modeled after the original "Ciclovia" of Bogota Colombia, CicLAvia will hopefully become a monthly tradition in Los Angeles as it has in some other US cities and slowly bury its reputation as an auto-dependant city.

CicLAvia's blog: http://ciclavia.wordpress.com/

Now... Gumshoes Reviews: Soul Kitchen (2010)

The 3^rd directorial effort by director Fatih Akin, Soul Kitchen is a quarter-life crisis comedy a la Friday and is equally as good. It follows Zinos (co-screenwriter Adam Bousdoukos), a struggling restraunteur in Hamburg who looks like Jim Morrison and named his restaurant after the song "Soul Kitchen" by The Doors. Zinos’s Soul Kitchen, is a depressing chow house that caters to a steady clientele of dock hands and warehouse workers. When his girlfriend Nadine moves to Shanghai for her career, Zinos becomes dead-set on joining her there. In order to get to Shanghai, Zinos must spruce up Soul Kitchen and sell it. This proves to be a troublesome endeavor that leads to a rollercoaster of misfortune and crime punctuated by exhuberant dance parties.

The comedy pushes hard to breach the heavy layer of trial and tribulation that drives the story and some reviewers have considered of the gags forced, but maybe that’s the point. Zinos is constantly frustrated by life's little snags, a character trait that gets him into bigger trouble. The bursts of comedy provides us with a way of relief from the heaviness of Adam's perpetual frustration, allowing us to stick with him emotionally, which is important because, aside from his temper, he's a great guy. Every performance shines and the soundtrack is full of both contemporary and classic dancehall jams. Akin and Bousdoukos play with their ethnic heritages (Turkish and Greek respectively) and turn Soul Kitchen into a multicultural salad bowl of eccentricity and camaraderie. Ultimately a feel good movie about self-discovery, Soul Kitchen will appeal to anyone who's every been young, confused, and frustrated.

Fatih Akin's dizzying directorial style has all the sass of Martin Scorsese, but with focus on stylized violence and more on character (yes, I'm implying that he's more emotionally mature than Marty). He's THE young filmmaker I'm keeping my eye on right now. Be sure to catch his directorial debut, Head-On. I think it is one of the greatest movies about agonizing whirlwind romance ever made.

Feel free to comment. Peace!

Foot Village - Lovers with Iraqis - Video

2010-10-10T16:01:00.000-07:00

FOOT VILLAGE - LOVERS WITH IRAQIS from rob heppell on Vimeo.

Los Angeles based Foot Village has always been more than just a band. From the visceral, gestural, and cathartic experience of their live show to their product packaging, the band has always challenged expectations. Their video for the 7" 'Lover's with Iraqis' goes beyond the typical form of a music video. Rather than creating a video juxtaposed with the form of the song as whole, producer Rob Heppell has made a video cut on the drum strikes and the raw nature of the sound. Go to the vimeo page to read the directors notes about the concept of the video.

Foot Village's last video for "Anti-Magic" took similar approach but with a completely different subject matter and spirit. This a really fun video that captures another aspect of Foot Village. Seizure warning on both videos.

FOOT VILLAGE "ANTI-MAGIC" from Deathbomb Arc on Vimeo.

Beth Stephens' and Annie Sprinkle's Purple Wedding

2010-10-10T15:07:00.000-07:00

For the past 6 years I have been collaborating with San Francisco based artists Beth Stephen's and Annie Sprinkle on their 7 year chakra based project the The Love Art Lab. The Love Art Lab is inspired by Linda Montano's Project "7 Years of Living Art." Every year, Annie and Beth live their life and perform in accordance with the color and theme of chakra of the that year. Each year they also have at least one huge collaborative performance art wedding.

This year is the year of the third eye, the purple year. As leaders of the ecosexual movement, Annie and Beth have been committing themselves not only to each other, but to the earth. In the green year (2008) they married the earth itself, and then went on to marry the ocean, the sky, and next the moon and mountains.

At this year's Purple Wedding to the Moon, I'll be the Flower Girl (as my alter ego "Lucky") and also doing a short performance piece. Reverend Billy of the Church of Life After shopping will be officiating the ceremony. This is an event not to be missed. Want to support and learn more about this amazing event? Please watch the kickstarter video below, and consider making a donation, even if it's small. Also visit loveartlab.com for more info about the 7 year project.

Gumshoes Reviews: Nothing But A Man (1964)

2010-10-06T16:09:00.000-07:00

This the first of what I hope to be a series of movie reviews.

Nothing But a Man (1964)
Shot in Birmingham, Alabama in 1962, Nothing But A Man tells the story of Duff (Ivan Dixon), a Black man in his mid 20s who has a habit of standing up for himself against the White man. Duff starts off as one of an all-black team of nomadic railroad builders. When he meets Josie (Abbey Lincoln), a preacher's daughter, he decides to quit the railroad and settle down with her in Birmingham, a venture that may be tougher than he imagined.

Nothing But A Man was written and directed by two white filmmakers (Robert M Young and Michael Roemer), but the film maintains a gaze that is fearless. The social realism of the film is quite raw for a pre-Vietnam film, depicting authentic poverty and self-abuse. Though the story is mostly bitter, there are sweet moments that feel genuine. The white characters are insensitive, but not demonic. The filmmakers thankfully saw no point in catering to Hollywood-style pandering. There isn't a token non-racist white guy or girl, which would have just been a distraction. Duff's understanding of what it is to be a confident but confused man of African descent in his time and place is what the film primarily aims to explore.

The story moves along at a constant jog, which does not allow the viewer to wallow in the misfortune of Duff and Josie, but rather to breathlessly stagger through it. I found this to be in some ways a disservice to Josie, who's quiet but refined character becomes pushed to the sidelines halfway through the film. Nonetheless, her character is never tarnished by hysteria, as young wife characters are so often tarnished in movies, even nowadays.

The soundtrack is amazing and before its time. It features singles from Motown Records artists such as Martha and the Vandellas and Stevie Wonder. These songs are used as a sly juxtaposition with the somber story. the film depicts Black life in the South without the sugar coating, offering raw, sobering kitchen sink realism that was rare in its time and still uncommon today.

If you are interested in a similar film made by a Black filmmaker, also check the landmark micro-budget indie film The Killer of Sheep (1977) by Charles Burnett. It follows a young Black father working in a slaughter house in Watts.

"RANDOM ISH FROM MY LIVING ROOM" MXTP FROM LIL BEN

2010-07-22T16:00:00.000-07:00

"RANDOM ISH FROM MY LIVING ROOM" is that rare type of Scrabble player rattle snack music.
Complete with two remixes on its front end.
Enjoy!

RANDOM ISH FROM MY LIVING ROOM MXTP by BenSinclair

Circuit Bending on New Histories for New Times! - 9th Floor Radio Show

2010-06-25T03:44:00.000-07:00

I was on Ben Sinclair's experimental 9th Floor Radio talk show "New Histories for New Times" and circuit bended a toy drum live. Circuit bending is when you take an old electronic instrument or toy, and short circuit it to discover new sounds, and eventually create a "new" instrument. You may have seen Altered Beats on this blog.

The demo includes my personal history with circuit bending, and how you can get started. The live bend gives you a taste of the process. If you want to circuit bend you can, it's very easy. To learn how to circuit bend visit anti-theory.com/soundart/ .

Overall this New Histories adventure was particularly extreme. It began with JaMile Jackson's album Experience and an explanation of the states of consciousness it evokes using alpha, beta, gamma, and theta frequencies. And after the live bend we we read an unpolished script I had just written the night before, radio play style! Tired of hearing about it yet? Listen to it already-

Listen to New Histories for New Times

For more awesome radio shows check out 9thfloorradio.com

Photos by Melissa Dale Neal

Pine in the Cemetery by Eric Eisher

2010-04-27T17:46:00.000-07:00

Pine in the Cemetery from eric eisher on Vimeo.

While putting together the last episode of Cardboard Transmissions, I stumbled upon this beautiful video of Pine playing in the Piedmont Cemetery by Eric Eisher.

Cardboard Transmissions Episode 10

2010-04-25T23:03:00.000-07:00

Episode 10 features Pine, Chen Santa Maria, Daddy Crimbo, and Max Forman. The genres in this episode go from acousmatic/tape folk to noise to balls-out rock and ends with a beautiful ambient composition. CBT is produced by Adam Harms. This episode is the last of Cardboard Transmissions ever. New and Improved™ Cardboard Transmissions, coming soon(ish)!

Total Running Time - 14.5 mins

Download Here (Right Click Save As)

Play Order:
Click the artist's names for more music/info

1. Pine - Syntax
2. Chen Santa Maria - Demo
3. Daddy Crimbo - The Thirsty Continent
4. Max Foreman - Deep Freeze

Click Here for more episodes.

Copy the feed link and paste it into your aggregator: http://officialincorporated.com/podcasts/cardboardtransmissions/feed.xml

Subscribe to this podcast with iTunes

If you have any music you'd like to contribute to Cardboard Transmissions, where ever you are, email us at OiDistro@gmail.com

Brought to you by Official Incorporated Radio

Official Inc. Music Store/Distro is Here!

2010-04-02T14:44:00.000-07:00

Official Inc. now offers quality music from talented musicians for purchase. Browse our selection of tapes and CDs. Click here for our store.

Swanifant - Wilder web release

2010-02-19T13:18:00.000-08:00

Swanifant's new album is completed and released to the web for your enjoyment by Sonic Experimental Labs. We here at Official Inc. are big fans of Swanifant and have included them in podcasts and covered their various exploits in the past.

Preview Wilder

Download Swanifant - Wilder

Cardboard Transmissions ep 9

2010-02-05T16:12:00.000-08:00

Episode 9 features three bands from around the San Francisco Bay Area, one from Oklahoma City, and one from Los Angeles. The genres in this episode range from Neo-New Wave to acoustic guitar, from Surf-y Soulful Rock n Roll to scientific beats. CBT is produced by Adam Harms, and updated monthly-ish.

Total Running Time - 18.5 mins

Download Here (Right Click Save As)

Play Order:
Click the artist's names for more music/info

1. Kite Flying Robot - Solid Gold
2. Shannon and the Clams - When You're On
3. Telegram Sam - une mélodie à la guitare
4. JaMieBux - Calirock
5. Spider - Untitled

(Intro music - "Electric Enchantment" by Mecha-Shiva)

Click Here for more episodes.

Lil Ben Videos and Music Downloads

2010-02-03T19:01:00.000-08:00

Hugs For $, Love For Free

Lil ben - Hugs For $, Love For Free directed by Tylor Norwood

Close Ranks

Lil Ben - Close Ranks directed by Tylor Norwood

Lil Ben is a smokin' Oakland artist who makes elaborate trance inducing sound-scapes, as well as toe-tapping, knee-slapping flith-pop hits. You may remember him from episodes five and two of our podcast. Two of his must-listen eargasmic releases are available for free download below, courtesy of Sonic Experimental Laboratories.

Download the Albums:

NOW EVERYBODY LP

WELL ANYWAY EP

Visit the Lil Ben Myspace Page

Cardboard Transmissions ep 8

2010-01-03T20:36:00.000-08:00

Episode 8 features five bands from around the San Francisco Bay Area. A golden Casio epic sounds off this episode, then a ponderous synth-folk song, followed by some silly-dirty hip hop. Lastly is some good ol' fashion rock and roll followed by some twangy experimental music. CBT is produced by Adam Harms, and updated loosely monthly.

Total Running Time - 19.5 mins

Download Here (Right Click Save As)

Play Order:
Click the artist's names for more music/info

1. Magnanimous - They Can't Stop Us
2. Swanifant - I Have a Secret
3. Pop Demon - Cock in a 40
4. Teen Wolf Jr. - Witch from Water
5. Brosis (feat. Gordon Gross) - Brosis Side B [Excerpt]

(Intro music - "Warmer" by JaMile Jackson)

Click Here for more episodes.

Livin' in the Bulb ep 4 - Season Finale

2009-12-18T13:30:00.000-08:00

The season finale of the post-apocalyptic mini-series is here! This episode was predominately shot in LA. In this chapter, after our heroes are split up during the terrors of the night, we see what happens to James.

Haven't seen "Livin' in the Bulb" yet? Watch the entire four-part series in sequence, with the added bonus of the pilot episode at the end.

New Roy Gover Tape from Spike Priggen

2009-12-09T02:40:00.000-08:00

Reader Spike Priggen sent us an MP3 of his Roy Gover tape that features Roy singing over an opera. Roy Henry Alexander Gover is a Bay Area cult figure that Jesse Elias wrote an article about for Official Incorporated in October, which included rips of our Roy tapes. Spike has also written about Roy, and has a collection of Roy tapes. Enjoy this brand-new Roy goodness thanks to Spike!

Download (right-click save as)

Do you have any Roy tapes you'd like to share? We'll host your tapes on our blog! Send us your mp3s to OiDistro@gmail.com or even mail us your tapes (email us for the mailing address) and we can digitize them for you and send them back.

Livin' in the Bulb ep 3

2009-12-03T17:57:00.000-08:00

Part three of a four part post-apocalyptic mini-series, shot and set in the Bay Area. In this episode, after losing their modest shelter, our hero's have to face the horrors of the night, and the subsequent aftermath the morning after. Stay tuned for the season finale, coming soon!

View Episode One

View Episode Two

Cardboard Transmissions ep 7

2009-11-21T13:32:00.000-08:00

Episode 7 features four acts from around the San Francisco Bay Area. It starts off with some slightly surf, slightly Fugsish rock and roll, continues with an electronic/IDM song, then a beautiful noise epic, and ends with a meditative and zoned-out noise-scape. Produced by Adam Harms, and updated sporadically.

Total Running Time - 19.5 mins

Download Here (Right Click Save As)

Play Order:
Click the artist's names for more music/info

1. Hobocop - I was a Beautiful Hippy

2. Summer Final - Summer Final

3. J0N G - Protractor Races

4. protoghost - Circuit Boards and Mountain Ranges [excerpt]

Click Here for more episodes.

Copy the feed link and paste it into your aggregator: http://officialincorporated.com/podcasts/cardboardtransmissions/feed.xml

Subscribe to this podcast with iTunes

If you have any music you'd like to contribute to Cardboard Transmissions email us at OiDistro@gmail.com

Brought to you by Official Incorporated Radio

Swanifant Music Video - Steps

2009-11-10T19:36:00.001-08:00

Directed and Edited by Easton Grainer

Music by Swanifant

Also- See the music video for the first four tracks of Swanifant's EP 1

Livin' in the Bulb ep 2

2009-10-28T11:13:00.000-07:00

Part two of a four part post-apocalyptic mini-series, shot and set in the Bay Area. This episode our hero's find themselves in a harrowing situation, held captive in their meager shelter by an invader, and facing ejection into the wild.

View episode one here

Cardboard Transmissions ep 6

2009-10-19T21:20:00.000-07:00

Episode 6 features three artists from the San Francisco Bay Area and one from Philadelphia. It starts off with some high-society breakcore, goes into a punk-rock noise track, followed by an electro/IDM song, digresses into experimental spoken word weirdness, and ends with a meditative piece of electronic music. Produced by Adam Harms, and updated sporadically.

Total Running Time - 20 mins

Download Here (Right Click Save As)

Play Order:
Click the artist's names for more music/info

1. Nero's Day at Disne(Y)land - Civilizing People

2. Mincemeat Or Tenspeed - Infinite Girlfriend

3. City of the Asleep - Electrodarks

4. John Staedler - In the Stomach and You Will Like It

5. Max Foreman - Ride Tide

Click Here for more episodes.

Copy the feed link and paste it into your aggregator: http://officialincorporated.com/podcasts/cardboardtransmissions/feed.xml

Subscribe to this podcast with iTunes

Brought to you by Official Incorporated Radio

Livin' in the Bulb ep. 1

2009-10-14T20:45:00.000-07:00

Part one of a four part post-apocalyptic mini-series, shot and set in the Bay Area. A cataclysmic change happens, a rift in reality, and survival becomes the focus of our humanity's existence. Long, long after the rift, our heroes struggle to navigate a mysterious and dangerous world. The series is a mix of comedy and drama. You may remember "the bulb" from the 2007 pilot episode, which gives some back story of our heroes' meeting but otherwise doesn't match up significantly.

This is also the debut of the the Official Inc. Youtube channel, more to come there.

View Episode Two

Roy Gover: Our Message in a Bottle

2009-10-12T22:42:00.000-07:00

Part I: Analog Discovery

Roy Henry Alexander Gover was born in London in 1929. In 1959 he moved to the San Francisco Bay Area to pursue a career in art. In 2003 he passed away at age seventy-four.

To many, Roy was a dear friend and colleague. To the rest of us, he is an echo; reverb-laced words traveling to us from the past like radiation from a distant star long since burned-out. Roy has left this world, but his legacy survives in a plethora of homemade albums recorded on audio cassette during the 1980's, chronicling his personal experiences in song and spoken word. These tapes are modern archeological relics recovered from a bygone period in the Bay Area's amateur art and music scene when digital distribution and reproduction did not exist. Surviving copies of his work are therefore extremely precious, as Roy only produced them for his own circle of friends and acquaintances. It is only through imperfect analog copies and re-gifting that Roy’s work has traveled outside its intended audience – a mimetic labor of love that has long since been obviated and automated in the age of the Internet where original content can be reproduced and transmitted infinitely with little for the original object.

I therefore consider it an honor to have acquired some of these tapes from my dad, who in turn acquired them from one of Roy’s old co-workers. It feels like a privilege, being privy to the intimate thoughts and musings confided in Roy’s albums. In many ways, it’s like the classic trope of finding a message in a bottle washed up on the shore: there's a common spiritual experience in discovering the trace of another soul in the void, a strong feeling of solidarity with this fellow human being the delineated within a text happened upon by sheer circumstance.

A typical Roy Gover album goes like this: Roy comes home, sets the radio to some easy listening orchestra music, has more than a few drinks of "scotchy-wotchy," and then starts sing-talking into the microphone about whatever's on his mind. It's a sort of musical diary/therapy session. He often talks to himself in multiple voices, creating the illusion of two characters named Tommy and Danny (his fictional recording engineer and band leader, respectively). If Roy doesn't like the music playing on the radio, or if there's a technical difficulty, he will often blame Tommy and stage a verbal argument with his alter ego

Many of Roy’s songs revolve around his troubles in life. He alludes to suffering from alcoholism and depression. He laments that people no longer smile at you when you pass them on the street, which is why he chooses to stay home (apparently he was living in a basement in Novato a the time when most of these albums were recorded). His alienation seems to have been compounded by failed attempts to socialize outside of the office with his co-workers from Bonsfield Associates, whom Roy characterizes as a bunch of lame squares who don't understand his genius (this is the subject of the first two tracks from his session on February 14th, 1987). Another common theme in Roy’s work is food and cooking: on certain tracks he sings about going to a place in Novato called "Red Cart Market" and preparing delicious meals such as a "nice rack of lamb on Saturday night." Roy has been known to divulge some of his favorite recipes during songs.

Part II: Digital Rediscovery

One day I decided to put Roy’s name into the Google search bar. Certain that he represented the pinnacle of obscure vintage local music, I was almost positive that I wouldn’t find anything.

Much to my surprise, I found a great deal on Roy and his exploits. It turns out that Mr. Gover had made an album called "Life Goes On," which he produced in a real recording studio under a real record label. The album was printed on CD and is currently available for purchase on Ebay and Amazon.com. Having known Roy solely through his tapes, learning of "Life Goes On" came to me as somewhat of a shock. The thing about the message in a bottle is that its recipient feels privileged in finding it: he fancies himself the sole heir of the knowledge contained within, the only person on earth aware of this other being who has entrusted him with his proof of existence, who has chosen him from across the abyss, like a spirit medium. Imagine then this person's shock at discovering that the message in a bottle was written by a published author! To finally see the face of the voice that he has confidentially known for years, and on the internet for everyone else to see, no less! And to discover that other tape-holders have written blogs about their own experiences with the man, as well as recorded and posted mp3s of his work… it turns one's world upside-down!

Much of the fun in listening to Roy’s work has been in the exclusivity of it. Analog media will always have a special value in its intimacy: cassettes and LPs wear and age like wine; copies become blurrier with each degree of removal from the original. Yet there is no value in a broken tape: it is only proper that after his death, Roy’s legacy should be immortalized in mp3 format and shared with this brave new wider world of the web. I have therefore been working with the wonderful people here at Official Incorporated to bring you two of Roy’s albums for download. I hope you enjoy them as much as I have.

"I have immensely enjoyed the 17 years of singing to other people's music. I never intended this to go out to the public, but if some people enjoy these songs, then who am I to complain? ... For me it's all been one long marvelous fantasy..." -- Roy Henry Alexander Gover

Sample Tracks:
Red Cart Market -

Download (Right click- save as)

Happy Birthday Christopher-

Download (Right click- save as)

I'll Be Raising My Sails Again

Download (Right click- save as)

Full Download of Exclusive Tapes:
1983 Roy Tape-
Side A
Side B

1985 Roy Tape-
Side A
Side B

Note: If you or someone you know has some of Roy's recordings, we encourage sharing them online with the rest of his fans. Official Inc will happily host the files and give you credit for your contribution.

SXL Mixes - Fresh Tunes

2009-10-08T21:05:00.000-07:00

Sonic Experimental Labs released 3 new mixes for your aural pleasure, featuring music by many different artists including Swanifant, Lil' Ben, and JaMile Jackson. Click the pic below to download these great mixes.

Direct Link to Mixes for archival purposes:
SXL Sound Exhibition Sample Vol. 0004
SXL Sound Exhibition Sample Vol. 0005
SXL Sound Exhibition Sample Vol. 0006

Altered Beats - A Noise Making Monster

2009-10-02T18:28:00.000-07:00

I circuit bended an old Alesis HR 16 drum machine to make an entirely new instrument, "Altered Beats", named after the Sega game "Altered Beast." As you can see I did more than just change the inside, I transformed the exterior as well.

Patch Bay (on the right) and the Patch Bay Combiner (on the left)

This is where all the magic happens and changes it into "Altered Beats"

Here is a demo video of "Altered Beats" so you can get an idea of how it works and what it can do. This is just a small sampling of the different songs it can make-

This instrument will be used in my new band, with Ben Sinclair and Jesse Elias "What Have the Unborn Done for Us?" Look out for us!

Circuit Bending is something that anyone can do! Click here to learn more about circuit bending and how to do it.

Foot Village "Chicken and Cheese" Cover at Free Music Archive

2009-10-01T21:00:00.000-07:00

Foot Village made an open call for musicians/friends to cover "Chicken and Cheese" to include on the CD, tape, and vinyl versions of their new album "Anti-Magic". My new band with Ben Sinclair of Lil Ben and Jesse Elias participated in this by recording our first Single, a cover of “Chicken and Cheese”. Our new band is called “What Have the Unborn Done for Us?” Our song will be a part of a collage on the tape version. But you can listen now! All of these covers are available for free at the Free Music Archive. Our song is at the bottom near Lucky Dragons.

So give our first single a listen! Click here

Also listen to "Anti-Magic" for free on Last.fm

Cardboard Transmissions ep 5

2009-09-29T00:22:00.000-07:00

Episode 5 of Cardboard Transmissions features five artists from around the San Francisco Bay Area and one from Berlin. The first half of this episode is more rockin'/band based and the second half is more electronic/beat based, but each song is a different genre. Produced by Adam Harms, and updated sporadically.

Total Running Time - 22.5 mins

Download Here (right click save as)

Play Order:
Click the artist's names for more music/info

1. Lil Ben - Proffesor X

2. The Moral Tourists - Calling in Dead

3. New Thrill Parade - Tie Dyed Bat Cave

4. notURbrokentoy - Coming for the Game

5. 4cantons -Veïna

6. J0N G- Esidadrap Satsgnag

(Intro music by Zenrootin)

Click Here for more episodes.

Interview with Dylan about Ranomafana Rhythms

2009-09-25T17:54:00.000-07:00

You may remember the joyous sounds of the Children of Bevohazo that I featured in episode 2 of Cardboard Transmissions. The track was taken from Ranomafana Rhythms Vol 1, a compilation CD produced by my good friend Dylan Chapple, lead singer of the noise-folk band Swanifant. Rhythms is a musical documentation of Dylan's journey throughout Madagascar: the album captures and compiles the various regional flavors of Malagasy music with unspoiled authenticity, with tracks compiled from three different local musical groups. I sat down with Dylan to talk about his experience creating Ranomafana Rhythms, the personal and cultural significance of the project, and Malagasy music in general-

Adam: How did you come to start this project? Why did you decide to make this compilation?

Dylan: I first visited Madagascar as a student in the Institute for the Conservation of Tropical Environments/ SUNY Stony Brook Study Abroad Program in 2005. The program takes place at Centre Val Bio, a research station close to both the town of Ranomafana and Ranomafana National Park. The park is home to a wealth of plants and animals not found outside of the country. Before the trip, I spent a lot of time listening to nature recordings that my friend Ryan Huber made during his time is Costa Rica, and I knew that I wanted to capture some of Madagascar's unique sounds. The idea of recording music there didn't occur to me until I got there and started seeing people with instruments walking along the roads. I asked around at the research station and people referred me to Dadalira, who at the time was said to be 100 years old. Watching him perform as I recorded was a powerful moment, and after hearing his music I knew I wanted to figure out some way for his music to reach people outside of his community and for him to benefit from this sharing.

My aunt, Dr. Patricia Wright, has been working in Madagascar since the 1980's, and was a major force behind the establishment of Ranomafana National Park. The park was established with a good deal of community involvement, and this model was a major inspiration for the compilation. After my trip, I discovered that much of the field recorded traditional music that I loved mostly cut the performers out of the revenue stream, which seemed unfair. I realized that having long standing family connections in the area made it possible to set up a system with people I trusted that would make sure the individuals and communities featured on the compilation could receive the money that was due to them. The staff of Centre Val Bio is in charge of sales to the tourist economy in Ranomafana and I'm in charge of the stateside sales. All profits past basic operation costs (which has only consisted of a few major CD mailings) is divided for each CD into 3 dollars for each band and one dollar for Centre Val Bio.

Adam: What equipment did you use to produce this project? Who else was involved?

Dylan: During my first trip in 2005 when I recorded Dadalira, I used an iRiver HP 120, which is an early iPod type device that happens to have decent preamps and an external mic input. During my second trip in 2007 when I recorded the Ambatolahy-Dimy band and the children of Bevohazo, I used a Zoom H4 hand-held recorder.

The mixing and mastering for the project was done for free by Aaron Emmert at Silent Planet Studios in Corralitos, California, and the package design and CD printing communication was done by Ryan Huber. Without the work of these guys and Christopher Chapple and Patricia Wright who helped raise the start-up costs, this project never would have gotten off the ground. I have been lucky to get a lot of help with the technical aspects of the music making process over the years, and a big motivation for this project has been paying this help forward.

The Ambatolahy-Dimy Band, also pictured at the top left

Adam: The description at the Rhythms store mentions the cabousy. (Pictured in the top left corner of the article.) How is a cabousy different than a guitar? Is it a common instrument in Madagascar folk music? What other instruments or ways of making sound are used?

Dylan: Most of the cabousys that I saw were somewhere between the size of a mandolin and a guitar. They are tuned in a major triad, and their fretboards are not uniform like a guitars. They are strategically placed to allow the chords found in a major scale to be played by simply placing one straight finger across the neck. To my ear, this allows for more rhythmic playing than a guitar. The cabousy is used by the Ambatolahy-Dimy band at the beginning of the compilation.

The children of Bevohazo employ voices, shakers, and bamboo shoots pounded on the ground to create drum-like tones. Their leader blows a whistle to direct the band. Dadalira plays an instrument that i have heard referred to as a valiha or marovany, depending on who I asked. His is a homemade instrument that is essentially a rectangular box with nine or ten strings on each side that produce banjo-like tones when plucked.

Dadalira with his homemade marovany

Adam: How is music a part of life in Madagascar? What role does it play? How is it different than music in the United States?

Dylan: Many of the Malagasy i talked to about it joke that they haven't met one American who can sing. In my experience, singing and music were a much more integral part of parties and gatherings in Madagascar than they are here. After the performances in Bevohazo found on the compilation, the group of American students I was with stayed up singing with some of the villagers and a team of guides from Centre Val Bio. Songs were pieced together through the memory of almost everyone involved; where someone forgot a verse, it seemed that there was always someone ready to jump in and lead the laughing group through it.

After about a half hour of Malagasy songs, they asked us to sing something, just one song. All we could muster as a group was a terrible version of Sitting on the Dock of the Bay, after which we quickly resumed the Malagasy songs. I think that our culture emphasizes the new and valorizes individuality to an extent that makes it hard for us to tap into a common source of music. The iPod seems to be a good metaphor for this; your own private musical history contained in the palm of your hand. Music in Madagascar seems to revolve much more around shared experience and a connection to those around you, and I think that our culture has a lot to learn from this.

The Children of Bevohazo

Learn more about and purchase Ranomafana Rhythms Volume 1: Traditional Music from Eastern Madagascar at the Ranomafana Store. (Scroll to the bottom of the page to buy.)

Spin-off Blog

2009-09-10T16:17:00.000-07:00

As you know, I am a frequent contributor to this blog; not long ago I decided that it would be in everyone's best interest to save the more irrelevant topics and inconsequential blather for my own personal blog. Adam wants me to promote it here:

http://cavetext.blogspot.com/
http://cavetext.blogspot.com/
http://cavetext.blogspot.com/

Mincemeat or Tenspeed plays in a Cave

2009-09-08T08:15:00.000-07:00

An awesome video of my brother playing in a cave by the ruins of the SF Sutro Baths. I was at this show and it was really cool to see noise artists play in a cave by the ocean as the sun set. There also was the added bonus of confused tourists walking through the cave.

Cardboard Transmissions ep 4

2009-08-26T15:18:00.000-07:00

Episode 4 of Cardboard Transmissions features six artists from around the San Francisco Bay Area. The genre of each song is different. The first half of this episode is more frantic and the second half is relaxed. Produced by Adam Harms and updated sporadically.

Total Running Time - 21.4 mins

Download Here (right click save as)

Play Order:
Click the artist's names for more music/info

1. Battle Hooch - Special Place

2. Zenrootin - iPod Song (City of the Asleep remix)

3. Nero's Day at Disne(y)land - Stretched Linen Over Contorted Bodies

4. Spencer Owen - Biker with a Death Wish

5. Adam and Jesse: MIDI - The Cereal Song

6. Eric Crawford - Organ Jam

Click Here for previous episodes.

Copy the feed link and paste it into your aggregator: http://officialincorporated.com/podcasts/cardboardtransmissions/feed.xml

Subscribe to this podcast with iTunes

Brought to you by Official Incorporated Radio

Something for Everyone

2009-08-25T13:26:00.000-07:00

Jesse Elias (that's me) performing at the swanky Bliss Bar in beautiful San Francisco. Watch me curse, stammer, and drunkenly stumble through my delivery while staring way too long at the notes on my rubber gloves (I'm sick of writing on my hand, can you dig it?) Camerawork and 90% of audience laughter is credit to Adam Harms.

stoned daft-punking

2009-07-28T09:24:00.000-07:00

New Blog

2009-06-19T19:55:00.000-07:00

Hey Offinc-ers,

Just wanted to pass along my new blog about doing one good deed a day. That is all!

Brett's Good Deed of the Day

-brett

Cardboard Transmissions ep 3

2009-06-09T17:35:00.000-07:00

Enjoy episode 3 of the music podcast featuring inventive independent artists from around the San Francisco Bay Area and beyond. The genre of the music featured varies from song to song, so there is something for everyone! Produced by Adam Harms and updated sporadically.

Total Running Time - 24.5 mins

Download Here (right click save as)

Play Order:
Click the artist's names for more music/info

1. MONODROME- R0TARY8

2. Brass Knobs - Crucify All the Trolls (I'm Burning Bridges on this Island)

3. Hate Truck - Freedom (A Life Without Regrets)

4. Foot Village - T.A.K.E.

5. JaMile Jackson - Grrerruff

6. Mystery Schools - Subtraction is Division

Click Here for more episodes.

Copy the feed link and paste it into your aggregator: http://officialincorporated.com/podcasts/cardboardtransmissions/feed.xml

Subscribe to this podcast with iTunes

Brought to you by Official Incorporated Radio

First Annual Official Inc Caption Contest

2009-06-02T13:54:00.000-07:00

A caption contest, a caption contest!

Submit comment to this post suggesting a caption to any of the following pictures. The best entry will receive a mystery prize pack. Lack of participation and/or quality entries will result in the contest being killed off and discontinued forever.

1.
2.
3. 4.

did someone say community television??

2009-05-29T16:46:00.001-07:00

my other band nate's action playset (all-midi btw!) just recorded a hilariously low-budget special for a show called 'spilly chili's bowl of rocks,' which is currently playing on santa cruz community tv channel 27.

The Golden Age of Games

2009-05-29T11:25:00.000-07:00

I remember going to LaVal's Pizza on Telegraph and Durant to play the arcade games there. It was in a dark nook filled with intimidating and cool adults who drank beer, smoked cigarettes, played pool, and listened to loud abrasive music on the jukebox. I played Street Fighter II with a burnt-out rock-for-life type who looked like the human version of Evil Ernie. Arcade games, particularly the ubiquitous Street Fighter II, were a conduit intersecting all walks of life. No other venue could have produced an opportunity for a little kid like me to hang out with such a bad dude. Long before there was the “gamer community” (patent pending) with its webcomics and LAN parties, there were games that brought the community together.

Download Official Incorporated tracks on Last.fm And an Awesome New Logo!

2009-05-23T15:58:00.000-07:00

All of our musical releases are on Last.fm! Now you can freely listen to albums from bands such as Zenrootin, Horse Sheets, and MIDI. All of our music is free to download and enjoy anytime you want. And don't worry... It's RIAA Safe ;)

Visit our Last.fm Page

And as you can see we have an amazing new logo by Jesse Elias!

Lessons from Charley and Humphrey: Solipsistic Nostalgia of a Local Boy from Richmond Raised on Televison in the Late 80's

2009-05-02T18:16:00.000-07:00

Part 1: Searching for Charley and Humphrey

For years now, the practice of going around on websites like Retrojunk to ask for help in identifying some vague pop-culture phantom from one’s childhood has been a common diversion on the internet. The person with the fuzzy memory will post something like, “what was that one show where they had the girl who could stop time by touching her fingers together? It’s drivin’ me crazy!” And then someone will invariably chime in: “Out of This World!” It's a genuinely effective system: with all the zillions of people on some of these forums, the law of averages dictates that at least one of them is going to know what you’re talking about.

But until today there was one memory of mine that no one on the internet could identify.

Here’s how I described it:

"A short spot featuring puppets, namely a white horse with a big red mouth and a fire helmet housed in a brick building (possibly a fire station?) I remember him teaching me that borrowing without asking is the same as stealing."

To improve my chances of stirring someone’s recollections, I made a sort of police sketch to go with this description; working the best I could off a fuzzy, almost twenty-year-old memory, I rendered this visual aid in MS Paint:

Yet all was vanity, to paraphrase Solomon; even with the help of my picture, no one in all the internet found any of this even vaguely familiar. And so, after many, many attempts in this vein, I gave up and became resigned to the prospect of never knowing where this mysterious memory had come from. I even went so far as to consider the possibility that it had never existed beyond my own mind: perhaps I remembered it from a dream; perhaps my memory had confused impressions from several different puppet shows and thus shaped something entirely original from their residue.

Today, however, my memory was redeemed with startling precision.

Like most good things, it happened by total accident. I was on Youtube digging up some 80’s independent Bay Area TV station nostalgia (KBHK 44 bumpers, things like that) when in the related videos column I saw something that took my breath away:

That's it! The reason why nobody on the internet could help me remember Charley and Humphrey was because they were from a local, independent broadcast!

Still, I wonder how my memory substituted a firefighter helmet for a naval cap. Anyway...

Part 2: A History of Charley, Humphrey, and Independent Television Stations in the Bay Area:

(Hey: If you watch only one of the videos in this article, watch this one.)

As the video above clearly demonstrates, Charley and Humphrey were a product of KTVU Channel 2, the first independent television station in the San Francisco Bay Area (as we are informed by Ronnie Shell, "a local boy from Richmond"). The song at the beginning of the clip, though written over twenty years ago, resonates more than ever with today’s wistful melancholy in wake local programming's decimation: "I know yesterday is gone forever/ but my favorite dreams are still in black and white." Gone forever indeed. Gone are the days of local B-horror M.C's like Elvira, Vampira, and Dr. Gangrene, who would lovingly present the night’s schlocky horror film and answer fan mail sent from kids around the area. Gone are the local game shows you actually had a chance of appearing on. Gone are Charley, Humphrey, and the other puppets. The only thing local stations do anymore is the news, presumably because they’re evil and they know that the only thing more depressing than no local broadcasting at all is local broadcasting that pops up only to tell you that there's a serial rapist in the neighborhood.

Sigh. I don't about you, but I could really go for a time machine right about now. I want the happy back. I want to escape into my naive, unjaded fantasy world of bright city lights, cloying saxophone solos, sparkly electric piano samples, and cheap puppets. I want to go back to a world where there weren't so many haters, where men could wear rainbow suspenders and not have their sexuality questioned. I want to go back to a world where guys could look like this and still be able to "score big on Love Connection" (i.e. women would still have sex with them). And I want to go back to where I can find a pair of glasses like Perry's, goddamn it!

But I digress.

Above: "Where is the familiar and friendly announcer’s voice to say goodnight to us now?"

As silly as it sounds, watching all this local broadcast stuff as a wee preschooler had a profound effect on my malleable little brain. How to describe it… it’s like it made me feel more connected to the place where I lived… like it made the TV seem less cold and distant and more like an integral part of the community. Okay, so that is silly, but compare that to the way we have it now: where is the familiar and friendly announcer’s voice to say goodnight to us when it’s time to go to bed and the station signs off? Where’s the part where that voice invites us to submit our questions and comments? Or the part where he gives us the address of the station so we could even go down there if we ever wanted to? And why don’t these stations still sponsor and put on events we can actually attend? As an impressionable child, all these little touches went a long way towards making me feel somehow involved. I'd see the stock footage shots of San Francisco, watch "Big Bird in Japan" on KQED, and then have my aunt (who always sent me stuff from Japan when she was living there) come and visit and take me to Japantown to get sushi and play a coin-operated Centipede machine. I was there, I was living the dream! It was like one big nebula of reality and fantasy all congealed in a delicious consommé of recycled stock muzak with one foot still in the 70's.

What I have shared here represents a great deal of what I consider to be the most deep-seeded and sacred of my personal aesthetics. What will become of them another twenty years from now, I wonder? Will they vanish further into obscurity, or will we dust them off and build something new from them? Will our culture descend into further alienation and cynicism, or will we rebuild our innocence and once more allow ourselves these tacky little gestures of community? I guess it’s important to remember that it's all relative, that one person's nostalgia is always created by someone nostalgic for something else.

Well, that's it for tonight's broadcast. Have a good night an a great weekend. And now, one last relic of Bay Area television to rock out to (in stereo):

Cardboard Transmissions Ep 2

2009-05-01T23:47:00.000-07:00

Episode 2 of the music based podcast featuring inventive artists around the San Francisco Bay Area and beyond. The genre of the music featured varies from song to song, so there is something for everyone! Hosted by Adam Harms and updated sporadically.

Total Running Time - 23.5 mins

Download Here (right click save as)

Play Order:

1. Tenebre - Platinum Standard - (Tenebre Myspace)

2. RAGS - Cauldron Spasm - (RAGS Myspace)

3. Shannon and the Clams - Heart Break - (The Clams Myspace , The Clams' Radio Show)

4. The Children of Bevohazo from Ranomafana Rhythms Vol. 1 - (Ranomafana Store)

5. Swan Elephant - tumbleweed - ( Swan Elephant Myspace)

6. Horse Sheets - kfdr (notURbrokentoy remix) - (Horse Sheets - kfdr page)

7. Future Dog - Glide - (Future Dog Myspace)

8. Lil Ben - Streaming - (Lil Ben Myspace) (Lil Ben Facebook)

Click Here for More episodes

Copy the feed link and paste it into your aggregator: http://officialincorporated.com/podcasts/cardboardtransmissions/feed.xml

Subscribe to this podcast with iTunes

Brought to you by Official Incorporated Radio

Protect Yourself

2009-04-30T00:07:00.000-07:00

New Photos by Adam Harms

If You Touch Poop: An Excerpt from "The Book of Germs"

2009-04-30T00:05:00.000-07:00

If you touch poop you are in trouble.

Poop if full of bacteria, red blood cells, viruses, and facultative anaerobic organisms.

Fig. A: Touching poop is so dangerous that you need a hazmat suit to do it safely.

In the event that you touch poop, it is important that you remain calm and take immediate action to purge your hand of its fatal contaminants.

First off, you will need to wipe away as much poop residue as possible. Using your uncontaminated hand (assuming that you have one) grasp a wad of toilet paper from the nearest bathroom. Assuming that the bathroom is stewarded by a responsible adult who keeps it properly stocked, there should be some wound around a cardboard spool on a collapsible spindle installed next to your toilet. With your uncontaminated hand, unwind an ample length of the toilet paper and separate it from the remaining plane of paper with a sharp tug. It is important that you tug sharply and swiftly at the paper so that linear acceleration overcomes angular inertia, otherwise the toilet paper will fail to tear and simply unwind further.

When you have obtained an ample handful of toilet paper, use it to wipe off as much as you can of the poop residue on your contaminated hand. To prevent your uncontaminated hand from becoming an also contaminated hand, take care to maintain a centimeter-or-more-thick barrier of clean toilet paper between the soiled hand and the one cleaning it. If the barrier between your clean and dirty hand is any less than that, the poop particles will be able to wriggle between the paper fibers and contaminate your uncontaminated hand. However, no protection is absolute: there are billions of particles contained in single speck of poop, so even if you follow all these precautions with perfect precision the law of averages dictates that some of these particles are bound to slip through the layers of toilet paper and leave your uncontaminated hand contaminated to a microscopic extent.

Ignoramus sez: “Microscopic? So what?”

So what? I’ll tell you what so, Ignoramus! The Ebola virus is so small you need a microscope to see it, and there’s nothing "so what" about contracting Ebola!

Fig B: Typhoid Mary killed hundreds of people by touching poop.

Now, as I was saying, when you are finished, flush the soiled toilet paper down the toilet. Now that both your hands are contaminated to varying degrees, you should depress the toilet flushing lever with your toe.

The next step is to wash the remaining film of poop off your hand, as well as the stray poop particles from your microscopically contaminated hand.

To wash your hands, you will need soap and water. Water can be accessed from the sink. However, to release water from the sink you will have to turn the handles, which are called handles because they are hand-operated. But your hands are contaminated. You could turn the handles with your mouth, but that would be a fatal mistake.

Question: What’s the most common thing people touch with unwashed hands after pooping?

Answer: The bathroom sink! (other acceptable answers include the toilet seat, the soap and/or soap dispenser, and the toilet-flushing lever.)

Are you starting to get an idea of how deep this conspiracy goes? The one place we rely on to rid ourselves of germs is actually the most germy! The lever you pushed down with your toe? It has contaminated your toe, and your toe will contaminate everywhere you walk until it’s sterilized. How fucked up is that?

Anyway, my point is this: if the bathroom sink handles are already contaminated, you have nothing to lose by handling them with contaminated hands. Ergo, the most logical course of action at this point is to use your microscopically tainted hand to turn on the water and access the soap.

By now you should realize that you are contaminating the hell out of the soap and the basin of the sink. Yet these things, like the rest of your bathroom, are probably already crawling with poop germs. And if you like virtually everyone else use your bathroom and then proceed to move about the rest of your home, you have trafficked these poop germs everywhere from your dining room table to your pillowcase.

I know, I know… it’s awful. But it’s the truth, and as bad as it sounds, becoming aware of this bleak reality is the first step toward remedying it.

But back to more pressing matters: you still have a film of poop on your hand that needs purging. Using soap and water, lather and rinse your hands no less than ten times. Doing this will remove a great deal of the contamination. However, by rubbing your hands together, the remaining germs will now be equally divided between both hands.

The soap has now been tainted; throw it in the garbage for later disposal. Make sure it doesn’t touch the top two inches of the trash bag lining the trash bin; eventually you will need to touch this part of the bag when disposing of it and its contents, and it would be tragic if you were to recontaminate your hands in doing so.

Now then, If have done everything I’ve said, you will have killed about 99% of the germs on your hands.

Ignoramus sez: “Alright, looks like I’m golden!”

Wrong again, Ignoramus! Remember that there are billions of germ particles in a single speck of poop. Also remember that all it takes is two germs to have germ babies and populate your body with their disease. What is one percent of a billion? A fucklot more than two.

So now both your hands are 1% contaminated. What now? What now is that you must soak your hands in ethanol, a volatile substance that kills germs a lot better than soap.

Remember the germ played by Lawrence Fishbourne in that one movie?

You guessed it: killed by ethanol.

To sterilize your hands with this magical chemical, empty six bottles of it into two buckets (three bottles each). If you don’t own six bottles of ethanol and/or two buckets, go to the store and buy thirteen bottles of ethanol (and buckets if you need them). You will need the extra seven bottles because by going to the store to buy ethanol you will have contaminated your car, your keys, your doorknob, your wallet, your pocket, and the store.

Now then, back to the task at hand (pun!): once you have successfully filled two buckets with six bottles of ethanol, dispose of the contaminated empty bottles following the same procedure from when you disposed of the tainted soap (remember: two inches f garbage bag untouched). Next, plunge your hands into one of the two buckets and soak them for fifteen minutes. When you are finished, dump the contaminated bucket and its contents somewhere where you won’t have to deal with it, possibly in a neighbor’s trashcan. Then soak your hands in a clean change of ethanol (the second bucket) for an additional fifteen minutes. Dispose of the second bucket and its contents accordingly. If you contaminated your car and other things by going to the store, use the additional seven bottles of ethanol you bought at the store to sterilize them. Then go to a different, uncontaminated store to buy five hundred more bottles of ethanol for sterilizing your bathroom and the rest of your house (dining room table and pillowcase, remember?) Don’t forget to sterilize all your clothes, furniture, food, appliances, and the terrain leading from your driveway to your front door.

That's it! You are now germ free! Remember to keep several bottles of ethanol on hand for sterilizing your bathroom every time you poop, lest the vicious cycle should reoccur!

Intimacy Quiet Circus

2009-04-27T00:31:00.000-07:00

An experimental film by James De La Loza from Official Incorporated's L.A. branch. Meditate on this!

Open Call for Submissions: The Official Inc. Zine

2009-04-22T17:02:00.000-07:00

Hello everyone! Official Incorporated is working on it's first zine. We are opening up the submission process for anyone who would like to participate.

The zine is a printed publication, that accepts comics, writing, drawings etc. Pretty much anything you can print. The first issue will be formatted with 4.25 X 11 sized pages. (Brochure Style) So keep that in mind when submitting drawings or comics. It will be in black and white. We are also accepting advertisements, contact us for (competitive!) rates.

The deadline for submissions is May 20th, 2009.

Send any submissions/inquiries to OiDistro@gmail.com.

Cardboard Transmissions Episode 1

2009-04-10T18:12:00.001-07:00

A music based podcast featuring inventive artists around the San Francisco Bay Area and beyond. The genre of the music featured varies from song to song. Hosted by Adam Harms and updated sporadically.

The first episode of Cardboard Transmissions is full of awesome new music from independent artists around the Bay Area, and one from Philly! No one of the songs in this episode really fit into the same genre. The first half is electronic based, ranging from chip tunes to noise and hip-hop. The second half is less electronic and more spiritual.

Total Running Time - 19.5 mins

Download Here (right click save as)

Featured Artists:
1. City of the Asleep - No Mean5 Go

2. Jesse Elias - Theme Song for an 8bit TV Show

3. Mincemeat or Tenspeed - Guns 'N Rosa

4. Pop Demon - Retail Water Trap

5. John Staedler - Filling with Light

6. Swanifant - Steps

7. Brass Knobs - Triassic Period

Click Here for more Episodes

Copy the feed link and paste it into your aggregator: http://officialincorporated.com/podcasts/cardboardtransmissions/feed.xml

Subscribe to this podcast with iTunes

Brought to you by Official Incorporated Radio

A General Dislike of Poetry

2009-04-09T16:21:00.000-07:00

I'll be the first to admit that poetry is one of my least favorite forms of artistry, either to make or be subjected to. This being said, here are a few poems I have written.

Poetry Courtesy of Webster
By Dusty Heaton

Please, come sophisticate me
with your sophomoric reverie.
Take time to unwind your cluttered
mind, in front of me preferably.
My infantile craving certainly
can't be quenched yet.
The paucity of clarity
is clearly my excuse.

I want to pray to a golden god,
Just so I could have a heart to heart with Jesus.
My infidelity surely won't be forgiven this time.
Me, with my spindling, spineless frame.
I've reached my terminus,
just let me theorize with the time I have.

Survival is my courtesan to court.
I want to galvanize my body,
send my neurons on vacation.
I suppose I'm willing to accept
what I've become, in fact I can't
wait to see what else the angels
have in store for me.
Oh, by the way, tell Jesus
he's not in the dictionary.

Covenant

Hey Mister
Can I come in
I've been waiting so long

Zephyr blows me
In a new direction
Wander my way through time

Stigmatize my very being
Make me a black king
Hey Mr. Calamity
Make me part of your dream

Spiders whisper
In my ear
Telling me secrets about the ocean

And whales sing
Lullabies
To their forgotten children

A union of significance
A brotherhood of sheep
A harbinger of my destruction
I hope this doesn't leak

funk incorporated

2009-04-03T07:25:00.000-07:00

Live concert footage from Brett's 24th Birthday in Santa Cruz.

Strunk and White

2009-03-23T22:13:00.001-07:00

Click to enlarge

Have you heard City of the Asleep?

2009-03-18T17:32:00.000-07:00

If you haven't heard Igliashon Jones' solo project, 'City of the Asleep' you are missing out! Jones, of Zenrootin fame, has recently released his new album "Map of an Internal Landscape" for free online distribution. City of the Asleep is a pleasantly eclectic sonic experience, ranging stylistically from electronic and industrial to rock and roll. You can also download his other four albums at the link below. My personal favorite is “The 5ound of De5olation,” an extensively thought out album which is reminiscent of the best of NIN. If you haven't heard this yet, Click the link below!

City of the Asleep Albums

City of the Asleep Myspace

The Miniature Missing Box - Those Whose Heads are Red

2009-02-25T23:33:00.000-08:00

In this episode, host Alese Osborn explores the world of those whose heads are red. You will hear about redheaded experiences from the US to the UK, redhead fetishes, the pubic hair question, and the numerous terms and sayings for redheads.

Total Running Time: 24 min

The Self Portraits of Ian E. Pines: Varying Levels of Abstraction

2009-02-22T19:44:00.001-08:00

Inspiring abstract painter Ian E. Pines has painted a series of self-portraits, a departure from his usual subjects. To see more of this series and rest of his impressive body of work:

Visit the artist's webpage

Edit: I forgot to mention the scale of these pieces, they are 5 ft tall!

The End of Futurama: Memories, Dreams, Reflections

2009-02-13T02:05:00.000-08:00

Disclaimer: The following is a documentation of my thoughts on the new Futurama movie, “Into the Wild Green Yonder,” as well as the Futurama film quadrilogy in general and its value in respect to the TV series. If you have not watched all of these things, the following may contain spoilers and/or not make sense.

Well, this is it: the final outing for the Planet Express crew is here with the release of the fourth Futurama feature-length film, “Into the Wild Green Yonder.”

The way the movie handles the big goodbye offers a little closure, but in the end it left me feeling for the most part sad and empty. To wit the way they concluded Fry and Leela's romance was just so… unceremonious. I mean, this is an arc they've been building from the very first episode! It’s the arc that was tragically cut short by the untimely cancellation of the series, before the creators were given a once in a lifetime opportunity to rectify that injustice somewhere in the ample span of four feature-length movies. So how did they use all this screen time when working up to a conclusion to the series’ longest running plotline?

They wait until the very absolute last minute to tack it on at the end, that’s how.

And when the moment finally arrives (seemingly out of nowhere), they ruin it have by literally not allowing so much as a millisecond to pass before they throw in the next unfunny joke. Now you see it, now you don't.

I don’t think you’ll find many Futurama fans that appreciate the "I love you too--WORMHOLE!" gag.

Even if this isn’t the end of Futurama and they somehow get a second second chance to continue the series, nothing they add to the continuity will change the fact that the moment they’ve been building up to from the very first episode is now over and done with, and the climax was the kind you have when someone knocks on the door and startles you into cumming. It’s even more disappointing when compared to the skillfully crafted emotional escalation and climax in episodes like “The Sting” and “The Why of Fry” – it begs the question: we’re supposed to believe that those episodes were all building up to THIS?

Seeing Futurama go out on such a tepid note is pretty sad, especially when “Bender's Big Score” brought it back from the abyss with such a bang. As far as I’m concerned, the first film was a fan's dream come true. In contrast to the unceremonious dispatch with which Green Yonder ends Futurama, Big Score was a triumphant return for the series, complete with a healthy dose of jabbing at the network bozos that stole these dear characters from us all those years ago. The rest of the movie was similarly packed with in-jokes and references strictly for the fans, mining the show’ rich history for several plot points, many of which allowed fans to return to some of the shows most emotional unresolved subjects (e.g. seeing Seymour again). And while on the subject of emotional unresolved subjects, the Fry/Leela relationship was handled in wonderfully. Seeing him suffer as she gets engaged to another guy only to find out that the other guy is actually him was a more clever and emotionally compelling plot twist than anything featured in any of the remaining three movies.

Yes, the remaining three movies… After Big Score shows Fry pining over Leela while his alternative self pines over her for 10+ years in another time line, where does the next movie pick up? Well, it starts off with Fry having forgotten about Leela and hooking up with some skank. Urgh. After that, the third movie completely ignores their relationship, which then returns in the fourth for a few odd minutes before the writers wave their magic wand and magically bring Futurama’s central arc to its door-knocking-ejaculatory conclusion.

The result is a resounding : /

I end with this. The gentlemen shown make valid points.

-- Harold Farber

The Rockafire Explosion

2009-01-09T00:09:00.000-08:00

The Rockafire Explosion is an animatronic band that played in Showbiz Pizza Place Restaurants until the 90's when they all closed. The Rockafire Explosion is also the name of a documentary about the Rockafire Explosion, it's inventor, and a tenacious community of fans who held on until the Rockafire Explosion's recent revival on Youtube.

Trailer for the Upcoming Documentary

The Rockafire Explosion has reemerged on Youtube, on multiple channels. On Aaron Fechter's channel, who is the creator of Rockafire Explosion, the robot band plays popular songs such as MGMT's "Electric Feel" (the band also appeared in the official video) and Usher's "Love in the Club." Aaron Fechter programs the band to play songs chosen by the highest bidders. The band is scheduled to play Nine Inch Nail's "1,000,000" which I am particularly excited about.

Hips Don't Lie - Shakira

4 Minutes - Madonna

The documentary is just starting to hit festivals, check out the website more info: http://www.rockafiremovie.com/

New Mildew Trailer

2008-12-21T20:09:00.000-08:00

A new trailer for the short horror film "Mildew" coming 2009 from Roiling Skies and The Tor Hansen Collective.

Adam Harms' Flickr Page

2008-11-26T20:46:00.000-08:00

Visit Adam Harms' Flickr page to see more abstract paintings, photography, and cardboard art.

Candyland is Dangerous

2008-11-02T01:23:00.000-07:00

Immolation of Lauren

2008-10-18T12:19:00.000-07:00

Tor Hansen submitted this great short to the AMC Greatest Fear Contest. Click here to vote for it in the contest.

Sacred Industries - Zenrootin Honor Ritual

2008-10-17T16:44:00.000-07:00

As apart of the Mythical Renegade Corporation of Sacred Industries, Zenrootin seals a contract through ritual and live musical performance.

"Sacred Industries uses performance art to enhance our business practice. One way we do this is with Honor Ritual Performance Pieces. The Honor Ritual is an elaborate practice of mutual agreement and understanding. The Honor Ritual replaces the cold tradition of the contact. Participants are bond by honor to uphold the terms of agreement. Videos of the Honor Rituals are posted on Google Video as a record for the global community. " - Sacred Industries Manifesto

We Got a bit of a Makeover

2008-10-17T16:42:00.001-07:00

As you can see the blog got a bit of a make-over. Thanks to Jesse Elias for the awesome animated "Hedge" banner.

More quality content is coming soon!

notURbrokentoy Remixes NIN

2008-10-02T21:49:00.000-07:00

Noise/pop/emotrash artist notURbrokentoy has created an awesome remix of the NIN song "Survivalism" check it out at the NIN remix site here-

http://remix.nin.com/play/mix?id=11395

remix.nin.com is nifty site where anyone download multi-track Nine Inch Nails songs!

Lovable Turkey Eating Dog

2008-09-23T18:23:00.001-07:00

Don Coyote Defeats the Ocean

2008-09-21T01:50:00.000-07:00

M83 Kim and Jessie + America's Next Top Model Cycle 11 Music Video

2008-09-17T03:38:00.000-07:00

Fan Music Video for M83's song 'Kim and Jessie" comprised of scenes from America's Next Top Model Cycle 11.

FREE DIRT!!! SKATE AND DESTROY!!!

2008-09-16T19:31:00.000-07:00

This is Free Dirt. I will credit Alex, Craig, and Ian on this one. I know them together, so they get their props together. First off, this is a Brain Drain production, a crew formed out of Baltimore Maryland. This is only the intro part to the video, (whose entirety is available on youtube). It is a blend of media formats ranging from 3 chip hi quality death lens digital video film, to low fi pocket recorders. Artsy, scattered, and fucking fun!! I highly recommend watching the whole piece. The skating featured is shred-worthy and I even have the first trick in the west coast wookies friends section!!! thanks guys!!! It's got that nostalgic documentary feel with good footy from S.F., Oakland, Albany, Baltimore and other east and west coast spots. My favorite part goes to Steve Strand!! Now go watch it, then go skate!!!!!!

Study What You Love

2008-09-07T11:56:00.000-07:00

Dougs Recital 2008 from Ken Wagner on Vimeo.

I met Doug Leveton when I was in high school, at the pre-college program at ccac in Oakland. We were room mates for the month of July in 2003. After our departure, he stayed in his home state of Oregon to attend the Southern Oregon University. At the pre-college program, he was in the architecture dept. Upon completing the month long program, he decided to scrap architecture as a career path to pursue his passion for drumming. And so, the "follow your heart" scenario lead him to Ashland to study percussion, musical theory, and music business. This is a video of his final recital, that he organized and performed in with some of his fellow musicians. It is evident that his time in colllege was spent mastering his skills and now, from the perspective of my own naive musical talent, Doug has become quite accomplished. Don't think about the money, the career, the societal pressure to succeed financially. If you are going to go to college, study what you love, and you will be a better person for it. Doug is in my extended network of out of state friends, and he is an outstanding human being. His genuine talent and his vigor for feeding the fire inside has given me much hope for us all who choose to do what we love over what would be the most lucrative. I am excited by what the future holds for Mr. Leveton's musical creations as well as our inevitable collaborations. Can you hear it ?

Roller Painting Performance

2008-09-06T17:40:00.000-07:00

Watch as Adam Harms paints 12 paintings in 7 minutes on roller skates, fully decked out in pads. See this combination of abstract painting, slapstick, and safety P.S.A. Performed at UCSC open studios in 2006.

Every Morning by Alese Osborn

2008-09-03T00:53:00.000-07:00

Click Image to View

Adventures in Ink

2008-08-29T00:27:00.000-07:00

A comic made the old fashion way, with pen and paper! Click to view larger image.

looking thru the filter.....

2008-08-27T11:41:00.001-07:00

looking out over a landscape of rooftops can be a bit unnerving. if you're surrounded by the younglings on a somewhat regular basis, or happen to be in touch with your outer child, you may hear whisperings of chim chim cheroo or the like. when was the last time you tiptoed across a geometric up and over? were you down and out? buh-duhm ching.....

all inuendos aside, i had this wonderful view a few months ago thru a skylight across the ajoining rooftop, thru the trees, fluffy clouds and all, and it stopped me for a moment. just a wee one, mind you. i was, after all, on the proverbial clock. the skylight in reference has been gifted with a remote control that opens and closes to the owner's delight (i know....i don't want to hear it. i just work here). so, of course, you would need a window screen to keep the outside out and the inside in.
and it is this screen that i peered thru as i longingly rested my tender visage upon those clouds and cursed the bandana covering my mouth, protecting my lungs from insulation particles and sawdust alike.

gazing thru the mesh grid that filtered my view of the sky and trees below, i began to ponder my place in the world. (at this point, if you are becoming bored, go ahead and go back to whatever you were doing before you came here. but remember, i didn't give up.....you did). as i was saying, i began to ponder my place in the world. not in some sappy esoteric "hey, are you there god, it's me _________," but more in a "fuck, why am i in some yuppies' attic looking at the sky behind glass thru a mesh screen?" sort of way.

and then i went back to work.

that's right. i didn't climb down the ladder and walk off into the woods. i didn't close my eyes and float off into the heavens to converse with ghandi and einstein and kermit the frog. i picked up my hammer and commenced with constructing the matrix (i don't care what you might say to your friends, it's a great analogy). i had gazed thru yet another filter at the great and mighty wonder that is the living world around me, and for all practical purposes, i was unaffected.

now, at this point you may be judging me a little. no, it's okay. admit it to yourself. i'm quite sure there are any number of thoughts tugging at your psyche right now. i don't know what they are, you tell me. it doesn't matter to this guy. you see, your filters are creating them.

that's right.....your filters. created and assembled by everything you've ever seen or done. and that's what this is really all about......at least for me it is. you are born and brought to conception with nothing but.........................................................................................................................................
if even that (i don't remember). beginning in the womb itself, your filters are being assembled.

by the noises filtered thru a sac of amniotic fluid. by that first moment where you are no longer breathing viscous liquid, but oxygen. stale hospital air vs. redwood forest is just one of the first filters. by the time you can talk, you are no longer recognizable as a pure piece of awareness, but are an assemblage of gender, race, religion, and whatever other filters you have picked up/had placed on you up to that point. and it continues on and on until that little piece of awareness blinks out, or goes back out into the everything, or whatever the hell it is that happens when our human body ceases to function properly, and gives up the ghost.

now there's not supposed to be a whole lot of judgement here on my part. i'm just making an observation. and so what, right? i'm sure you've thought about this twice today already, and there's no point to it anyway, and aren't you fuckin' hip and all that.

and, well, yeah.....i am. hip as all hell. but don't take my word for it. go find your rose colored glasses, and sit on top of a skyscraper and stare at the people below you.........until you're bored enough to turn your gaze upwards and gaze at the sun until you find something worth looking for.

let me know what you find. i'd do it myself but i get a headache after a couple minutes.

cheers,
chuck.

Barack Obama Looks Like Two-Face from Batman the Animated Series

2008-08-25T21:09:00.000-07:00

Two Face from Batman the Animated Series

Wataru is going back to Japan

2008-08-21T22:32:00.000-07:00

I met Wataru Nakamura at the california college of arts and crafts. we both had studios on campus in san francisco and everytime i went there to paint, he would be there painting as well. I have a feeling now that all the times i wasn't there, he was there painting. He is a surfer, sushi maker, and a most talented artist in all respects. Now he's going back home to Japan, and this shall be posted in his honor. You can see his paintings and drawings on his new website http://watacea.com/ or if you come to my house you will find "cheeseburger" and "sleep through" in my collection. I am currently holding on to "my dome" which you can see on his site. That painting is potentially on sale to the highest bidder so, take a look and contact me if you are interested in owning an original painting by Wataru. His paintings wander into the ethereal possibilities of acrylic/oil based atmospheres, often times locating small figures in fantastic and vaporous realms. The colors and textures promote slight hallucinatory effects when viewed correctly. Overall, his paintings are heavyweight, hand crafted, thick and skilled pastures that turn weightless when passing from your hands to your eyes. The above painting is called "California Sushi Wave/should i stay or should I go". We'll miss you my friend. Travel Well ! ! ! !

Various Titles Featuring Rafiki

2008-08-18T23:14:00.000-07:00

News Flash: The Olympics are for Douchebags

2008-08-17T17:01:00.000-07:00

Hey everybody, it's your old pal Harry, and I've got a new bone to pick.

So I was walking by the newsstand today on the way to and I noticed a curious picture in the NY Times:

Fig. A: two dudes about to throw a kegger

I've never watched the Olympics before, so I think, "Holy shit, those guys are Olympic atheletes? They look like douchebag fratboys getting ready to pull out the old beerbong and go on a drunken joyride in their hummer with one guy sticking out of the sunroof while shouting lewd comments and thrusting his erection at random pedestrians!"

I don't give a shit about sports, but I always thought the Olympic athlete was supposed to maintain a more noble image than your average jock, sort of like this guy:

Fig B: the myth

Then I get home and do a little research, and I find out that the douche in the picture goes by the name of Michael Phelps. The media is currently fellating him and calling him an American Hero or some shit because he won eight gold medals, which is something nobody has ever done before, apparently.

Anyway, although we're supposed to believe this crap about how the Olympics represent some magical time when the human race comes together for a common cause (to compare penis size) like we're told in that stupid Visa ad with Morgan Freeman (Goddamn, is there any gig this guy won't do? I swear, no matter how many blockbuster roles he lands, he'll appear on the Honey-nut Cheerios box if they ask him to), the hype is bullshit. The Olympics are about as humanitarian as college football is academic. While the games might be a peaceful gathering, they're an expression of the same base impulses of rivalry and aggression that form the basis of all bloodshed and injustice in this world. But because these expressions are confined to a safe, controlled environment, it's supposed to be productive healthy competition and shit.

Example:

Fig. C: sports are a safe and harmless outlet for multicultural tension

Speaking of Edward Norton with a swastika tattoo, why do you think Hilter loved the Olympics so much?

But anyway, this article isn't about the Olympics being evil and racist or anything like that; it's about them being an extension of the same douchebag jock-worshiping ideology that makes high school a living hell. My point is that this ideology doesn't end with high school; the Olympics are proof that this exact same bullshit is ultimately waged on global scale.

Whether he is a gold medalist or captain of the high school football team, the athlete hones his physical form not simply for personal power, but as an agent of ideology. His perfect, Apollonian physique becomes the body of the state, just as Foucault reasoned that the broken body of corporeally punished criminal becomes the body of the enemy of the state ("Discipline and Punish"). No matter how physically powerful the athlete becomes as an individual, he always serves his ideology first, surrendering his volition to "The Man". This is why we often see the curious sight of a lumbering quarterback who could rip a phone book in half lowering his head like scorned child when his fat old coach who can barely chew gum without having a heart attack yells at him for dropping the ball.

All his life, the athlete has had the motions of his body dictated by what the coach says. If Coach says straighten those legs, he straightens those legs. If Coach says give him fifty, he gives him fifty. When these young men enter high school, the coach evolves into something of a pederastic mentor, instructing them in the ways of manhood. If there's a party happening that night, Coach will say something about drinking responsibly and then, with a wink and nudge, something about proper condom usage. Without Coach's tacit approval, these boys probably wouldn't even be able to get an erection: his word is more deeply ingrained in their physical being than the word of God Himself.

The athlete's body is not built for his own pleasure, but for the vicarious pleasure of others. He performs so that his physically inferior coach and obese, chili-dog gobbling spectators may share in the triumph. The idea is not to become the ideal independent body, but the ideal appendage. The athlete's destiny is to become the giant throbbing cock on America's flabby, diabetic body, a proxy phallice for The Man to fondle as his own.

Fig D: fondling and pride

-- H.A. Farber

Georgian Bigfoot Hoax Actually a Cover Up

2008-08-17T03:24:00.000-07:00

Truth is a Lie
Above Average Paranormal and Supernatural News

Georgian Bigfoot Hoax Actually a Cover Up
By Pal Paxius

Right: Photograph of alleged Georgian Bigfoot.

It was a suspiciously slow news day in Palo Alto when two hacks from Atlanta made a stink about a poorly conceived Bigfoot yarn. Go to Matt Whitton and Rick Dyer's “Bigfoot Tracking Website” (http://www.bigfoottracker.com), and you are accosted by Reggaeton music, a video playing, a flashing tree background, text in all caps and hideous web design. This site is offensive and abrasive on all fronts. It is clear that this is not the work of serious professionals. These men are compromising countless individual's research of merit, but is there something even more insidious going on?

The offending site.

A Testament to the Legitimacy of their claims.

Rick Dyer was a corrections officer and an army ranger, which means he has an L Chip installed, and he could be easily controlled by the Department of Homeland Security's Invisible branch. While Matt Whitton is an officer who is on leave from a gunshot wound. He most likely received his implant at the hospital following the gunshot.

This sham is definitely meant to divert our attention from a much juicer scandal.

I have a few theories-

DHSi captured the real Bigfoot, alive, probably deep within the caves of Mount St. Helen's. What better way to discredit a whistle blower than spread an unbelievable mockery of the truth?

The 8th Coming of Ra, the Egyptian Sun God, again in Silicon Valley. Although there hasn't been a good “Xth Coming of Ra” in a while.

Loose Alien Hypnotist. It could be that the government ties are a red herring.

Mildew - Short Film Trailer

2008-08-14T12:28:00.000-07:00

Mildew, coming soon from Roiling Skies.

D.I.R.E. podcast

2008-08-13T18:36:00.000-07:00

Songs Songs Songs

home made music from san mateo and around. dire friends.

Corpoculta - Short Film

2008-08-11T17:30:00.000-07:00

(click video to get into YouTube and watch in High Quality)

Corpoculta is a student film produced by Adam Harms during his stint at the New York Film Academy in L.A. in 2001.

This was shot on 16mm Black and white film and edited on a West German Steinbeck.

The soundtrack is from the album Twelve(12) by the Midnight Dozen, soon to be re-released by Official Incorporated.

Fozzie's Camouflage

2008-08-08T19:08:00.000-07:00

Hey there, True Believers! Can you spot everyone's favorite stand-up bear in this picture?

Who's hungry? Wocka wocka!

--G.L.

Doomsday Device to be Activated for Purely Wank-related Purposes Later This Year

2008-08-07T21:29:00.000-07:00

Hey there, folks! It's you're old friend, Harry Farber! Boy, have I got a scoop for you! As it turns out, the world could very well end in a month! That's right, I'm talking about a real bona-fide doomsday! I wish I was just making a dumb joke, but no, it's actually true. Just click on the image below and all will be explained.

Fig. A: click the techno-sphincter and learn the truth

Okay, so maybe the visual aid takes some liberties, but I can assure you that this thing is real. As Levar Burton always says, you don't have to take my word for it. Here's proof:

http://www.worldnetdaily.com: Big-bang Machine Raises Doomsday Fears

From what I've read, it's obvious that these guys don't know what will happen once they start playing with dark matter and micro-black holes (otherwise they wouldn't spend five billion dollars to find out, would they?), and yet they insist on going ahead and pushing the button because they're just too damn curious. If this sounds more than a little familiar, there's a good reason: like many of the threats we face today, we were warned about this shit years ago by a very prophetic piece of science fiction...

Fig. B: we were warned about this shit

Well, it's been nice knowing all of you, but it looks like we won't get to see the end of this movie called life, and all because some asshole is more interested in taking apart the projector to see how it works rather than paying attention to what's on the screen.

-- H.A. Farber

iPod Song - Brand New Zenrootin song

2008-08-07T13:48:00.000-07:00

The newest creation from exspiritualmental band Zenrootin is a Pop Love Song. This song is very beautiful and is sure to touch your heart.

Look out for the "iPod Song" single and the new Zenrootin album coming Fall 2008, released by Official Inc.

Zenrootin's Myspace

Hedge - Video Game By Adam Harms

2008-08-05T01:56:00.000-07:00

Explore and escape the amoral micro world of hedge! But beware, Hedge is not always as it may seem!

For Windows 95/00/XP/VISTA etc.

Download

note: joysticks are no longer supported

Braided Belt Batman

2008-08-04T00:41:00.000-07:00

The Missing Box Radio Show - Ep. 20

2008-08-02T15:29:00.002-07:00

The latest installment of the Missing Box on 9th Floor Radio about Zines is a must listen! Host Alese Osborn and special guest Melissa Neal (Ms.Catatonic) read snippets of Alese's and other's Zines, touching on topics such as:

- Living on a budget ( a real budget not a "$100 Coffee Table" budget)
- P.T.S.D.
- How to pee outside for girls
- Feeling comfortable walking alone at night (by acting crazy)
- Coping with Addiction and finding other stuff to do
-Sexual Abuse
- Big Miss Moviola
- Make your own Panties
- Lists of Lists

Listen Here

Listen to more episodes-
The Missing Box

The Missing Box Myspace
9th Floor Radio

The Grand Croutons - Short Film

2008-08-02T14:14:00.000-07:00

-Part One-

-Part Two-

Run time: 20 min

A movie about a restaurant feud between the "Yellow Jacket" Lounge, and the Maroon Lagoon. At the Maroon Lagoon, employees are slacking, foreign dignitaries are rampaging, and the food isn't quite ready. Meanwhile, a spy posing as the entertainment plans to poison a desert bound for a very rich, very powerful, and very strange customer. Will the Maroon Lagoon be in ruin?

This short film was produced by James De Loza and Adam Harms, with an original score by Jesse Elias. This surreal melodrama will have you laughing, confused, and never bored. Dive into restaurant politics in another dimension. A different sort of "Comedy of Manners"

Credits:

Written and Directed - James De La Loza and Adam Harms
Original Score - Jesse Elias
Costumes - Ashley Rogers
Song Vocals - Danny Echevarria and Amirose Eisenbach
Lighting - Ian Paul
Production - James De La Loza and Adam Harms

Cast:
(in order of appearance)

The Chef - James De La Loza
The Chef's Assistant - Ben Samuel
Wally Perkins - Brett Wiltshire
Dusty Sanders - Dusty Heaton
The Man of Bad Manners - Ian Pines
The Translator - Nathan Kosta
The Hungry Ghost - Adam Harms
Cherry - Ashley Rogers
Nappy - Nick Dickson
Barry the Manager - Dan Mack
Francis Squash - Adam Harms
The Drug Dealer - James De La Loza
The Drug Dealer's Apprentice- Sandra Markarian
Thomas Scheckellberger - Jesse Elias
Mom- Celia Harms
Kid- Adam Harms
Porno Guy- Jesse Elias
Stella Davenport- Monica Avellino

Dana Foster: In Memorium

2008-07-31T02:13:00.000-07:00

You know, disinterestedly clicking on a throwaway Youtube link can sometimes make a huge difference in your day. I mean, never in all my years could I have predicted that I would be writing a eulogy for a character on such a stupid show. It had appallingly bad writing. The sanctimonious conservative moral at the end of each episode was retarded. It was arguably the lamest thirty minutes of television in its time.

But goddamn, the girls on Step by Step were hot.

Like every other sitcom, it was the show’s depictions of burgeoning teenage sexuality that kept the teenybopper core watching, and these scenarios were invariably conveyed with the same perverse air of forgery and hypocrisy as the pharisaic morals that accompanied the titillation. The end result always left a bad taste in your mouth, an empty void in your soul as meaningless as the hollow, canned laughter.

Case in point:

Fig. A: simple joys made grotesque

In Step by Step’s All-American world where premarital sex and tattoos will ruin your life but step-incest and twelve year old tits are dressed up as fun for the whole family, Dana Foster was the voice of reason. The oldest daughter in the family, she was the a liberal feminist stock character who always expressed her dissenting opinions in the snarkiest, most pompous manner possible -- and rightfully so, considering the crap that went on in her world every Friday evening.

Oh, and she was a knockout!

Fig B: RIP: 1991-1997

Dana was the babe meant to appeal to the atypically critical viewer. She was a rare flower in the desert of American idiocracy, a beautiful, insubordinate bitch...

But then something horrible happened.

Fig. C: a snuff film

Behold, the soul-crushing video that suddenly made me realize that I actually care about a character on Step by Step. Watch it and shiver in horror. Yes, the jokes are excruciatingly unfunny and the writing flows like the birth of siamese twins, but let’s ignore all that for a moment; there is a much graver crime on display.

What we are looking at here is a murder. Dana, the desert rose, has been trampled into the sand, assimilated into the fornicating collective of churls. She has been bound and defeated by some contrived screwball comedy plot device, this meet cute “opposites attract” Preston Sturges wannabe bullshit. I mean, it wouldn’t have been that hard to set Dana up with a sensitive, deep poet boyfriend or something. After all, the only trope more prevalent than the opposites attract rule is the trope of the clones in love. Think of the Chipmunks and their genetically engineered girlfriends, the Chipettes. That would have been the expected route to take.

Instead, the writers purposely contrived this scenario knowing that it would warm Middle America's flag-wavin' heart to see such a majestic, untamed cunt dominated and wrangled up by one of the good ol' boys, a red-blooded American anti-intellectual role model who would rather be shooting hoops than reading Shakespeare. Are we really supposed to believe that an academic like Dana is willing to overlook the flaws of Rich “nachos rule” Halke because she’s impressed that he can use the word “inhumanity” in a sentence?

Yes, that is the problem with sitcoms: we are supposed to believe.

All this time I’ve spoken of Dana Foster as if she were a real person. However, if we are come to a sensible conclusion, we must eventually acknowledge the obvious: Dana is a fictional construct, one ideology's superficial caricature of another. She isn’t really an intelligent independent thinker, she is what ignorant agents of consumer culture consider an intelligent independent thinker to be. In short, Dana was born from the same decayed values that she appears to rise above. She is not really an oasis in the desert, but rather a mirage. She is a feminist straw man, and this moment of moral immolation in the embrace Rich Halke is what she was created for.

And yet, even though she was shaped from the same corrupt clay as the rest of the show, I feel as if something of actual value was lost.

There was once an episode of Batman: the Animated Series titled “Growing Pains.” In the episode, Robin develops feelings for a girl named Annie, who turns out to be a lost part Clayface, the evil shape-shifting blob of mud. As Robin finds out in the episode’s heart-wrenching climax, part of Clayface’s body had broken off and taken on the shape of a young girl, which eventually forgot its origins and came to fancy itself a real girl: Annie. At the end of the episode, Clayface tracks her down with the intention of reabsorbing her into his body. Robin vows to save her, but Annie, upon learning the truth, replies, “Save what? I’m not real.”

Fig D: Annie's fate compels us to reexamine our views on Dana

Still, when Clayface finally does reabsorb her, Robin grieves Annie’s “death” and grumbles that Commissioner Gordon ought to add murder to Clayface’s list of charges. Who are we to say whether or not his feelings are justified?

Similarly, Dana Foster was not the hero in this tale, but rather an unwitting illusion serving as part of a much larger villain. And like Annie, although she was never real, to see her assimilated back into the muck from whence she came breaks my heart. The moment at which she was robbed of her illusory volition and made to succumb to Rich’s “charms,” she was, in fact, murdered.

-- H.A. Farber

Les Liaisons - An Adventure in Bourgeoisie Excess - Videogame

2008-07-31T00:22:00.000-07:00

"Paris, 1825. You are a rustic lad from Normandy, freshly arrived to the city. Although crude in appearance, you are well-read and versed in the refinement of high society. Your task is to metamorphose your facade into that of a distinguished gentleman and infiltrate the most prominent social circles in Paris."

This release by Team Prolific Virtue is not to be missed. Experience 19th Century social climbing in this unique RPG game. Produced by Jesse Elias and Dave Hansen

For Windows 95/NT/ME/XP/Vista Only

Download Here

Additional Screenshot:

SHAMS has new song "SEAFCKING" on myspace

2008-07-30T23:03:00.000-07:00

Virginia based electronic musician, SHAMS has an awesome new song, "SEAFCKING" on his myspace profile. Check it out, it hits hard and is very dance-able. It's been released by Flish records on a split c-20/3" with Synt.tofs. This is a track I would love listen to while speeding down a bridge in/out of a metropolitan area with the windows down feeling especially human/cyborgish.

To listen Click Here.

Livin In the Bulb Pilot

2008-07-29T15:17:00.000-07:00

The Pilot episode of "Livin in the Bulb" the post-apocalyptic web show that is filmed in the San Francisco bay area. A mix of drama and comedy, follow the exploits of our heroes surviving in an age of ruin, scarcity and uncertainty.

James De La Loza on Bulb Pilot episode-
"Improvised in Albany Bulb without a tripod or mic one afternoon... A little bit of gold dust and elbow grease! "

Production: Jesse Elias, James De La Loza

Dilbert® By Jesse Elias

2008-07-29T12:33:00.000-07:00

Jesse Elias, some one who doesn't read "Dilbert" by Scott Adams, brings you Dilbert® by Jesse Elias, a scathing satire of so-called "nerd" humor. Remember legalistic folks, this a parody, so its not really copyright infringement.

Swanifant LP 1 Music Video by Adam Harms

2008-07-29T03:48:00.000-07:00

Official Music video for the beginning of Swanifant's "LP1." Created from
photographs.

Kids of Transylvania Junior High Start a Band by Jesse Elias

2008-07-29T03:47:00.000-07:00

It all began in the south hall when Principal Boogeyman put this one poster up by the lockers:

Come to Family Night on Wednesday the 15th!

Dessert Potluck and Talent Show will be held!

$500 goes to first prize in the Talent Show!

Events will begin at 3:00 Am in the cafeteria. Participation in the talent show is open to all students.

“Frank, check it out!” exclaimed Mummy, nudging me as he pointed to the poster.

“Five hundred bucks! Just think of what we could do with all that money!”

I looked up at the poster and felt my neck-bolts tingle with excitement. In the past, Mummy’s crazy schemes had gotten us into all kinds of wacky misadventures, but this time it seemed like he was finally thinking down to earth.

“So Frank, what do you think?” Mummy was still awaiting my reaction eagerly.

“Sounds good,” I said. “But what are we going to do?”

I watched my best friend’s wrinkled brow crease as he racked his brain for ideas. “Well, we could do a magic act.”

“No way!”

“Alright, alright! Got any better ideas?”

I shrugged.

Mummy scratched his dusty head. “I know!” he declared triumphantly, “We’ll start a band!”

“A band?” I felt my stomach jam in my throat. Neither of us knew how to play an instrument. I’d taken a few organ lessons in 5th grade, but that’s it.

“Come on, man!” He then added with a wink, “This could be your big chance to impress Morganna!”

Oh man. He just had to drop the M-bomb: Morganna, the girl of my dreams. Everything about her was perfect, from the top of her pointy witch-hat to the toes of her pointy witch-shoes. But there was no point in trying to get her to notice me; she was one of the popular girls, and popular girls only go for popular guys.

I was about to remind Mummy of this simple fact when our conversation was interrupted by a loud voice across the hall.

“That five hundred bucks is mine, and if any of you losers think you can win, you might as well stop thinking you can win, ‘cause that five hundred bucks is mine!”

“Oh great, here comes Bigmouth,” Mummy grumbled.

Bigfoot overheard. “Did one of you dorks say something?” He and his gang of hoodlums darted around to face us.

Everyone in the south hall froze in anticipation as the 8th grade ape lumbered toward us. “I asked you a question!” he roared.

Mummy cowered. “I didn’t say nothing man, honest!”

The entire hall flinched as Bigfoot slammed my best friend against the wooden, coffin-style lockers.

“I’ll let you off this time,” he growled, “but you better watch yourself, bandage boy, because I’m sure as heck watching you.”

“Yeah man,” one of Bigfoot’s lackeys chimed in, “You don’t want something like last Tuesday happening again.”

Last Tuesday, Mummy was in Coach Death’s class when Bigfoot and his gang had snuck into the locker room. They had broken into Mummy’s locker, taken his clothes, wrapped them around a few cardboard tubes, and put them in the bathrooms. Mummy was only able to get about half his stuff back by the time he found out what happened. Even though it was obvious that Bigfoot and the others were behind the crime, Principal Boogeyman couldn’t do anything about it without some kind of evidence. Instead, all he could do was make things worse by relating the events in a grave announcement over the PA the next morning. As a result, Mummy had been the butt of every joke at school for a week.

With memories of the incident fresh in my mind, I was angrier than a vampire bat during daylight savings. The rage swelled up inside of me, burning in my throat as I prepared to shout a million names at Bigfoot before jumping on top of him and knocking his lights out. I could feel it coming on; this was my big moment.

“L-l-leave him alone!” I managed to stutter.

“Or what?” Bigfoot put Mummy down, turning his attentions on me.

“Or I’ll…I’ll…” I could feel his ego sucking my willpower dry.

“Ha! That’s what I thought!” He pushed me just enough so that my stiff limbs caused me to tip over. “Timbeeeer!”

The south hall erupted into a fit of laughter.

“Maybe you can get one of your dads to lube up your joints next time, stitch-face.”

More laughter ensued.

“Oh, and one more thing…” Bigfoot knelt down to make sure I heard him. “Stay away from my girl, you got that? Me and Morganna an item now, so you can forget about making her part of your dorky, miserable existence.”

And with that, he stood up with an air of satisfaction and turned to his posse. “Alright guys, let’s roll.”

Once Bigfoot and the others left to finish their routine bully patrol, the south hall resumed conversation and movement was again -- business as usual in Junior High.

“That jerk!” Mummy muttered as he helped me to my feet. “Don’t listen to him Frank, Morganna wouldn’t go out with a scumbag like Bigfoot.” His scowl became a grin. “You can bet they’re gonna regret this once we rock out the entire school!”

“Did you guys say rock?”

We turned around to discover Wolfman and Dracula standing beside us.

“Well actually --”

Mummy cut me off: “We’re in a band!”

“Oh cool, for real? Can we join?”

“Hang on a sec --”

“Sure! You guys are in!” That was the second time Mummy had interrupted me now.

“Rock and Rollll!” Wolfman howled in approval. He then added, “My dad’s also in a band; there’s a ton of instruments and stuff like that at my house. You guys should come by after school.”

Mummy’s face lit up. “Sounds like a plan, eh guys?”

The more he said yes for all of us, the more I was beginning to feel Mummy’s confidence. Then again, that’s how our crazy episodes always started.

When we got to Wolfman’s house, I realized that I had never been there before. Although I didn’t know what to expect, I certainly couldn’t have imagined the weirdness that awaited us there.

As we walked inside, a mild but concentrated odor rushed to greet us. Wolfman’s dad was lying on the couch, looking pretty spaced out. The fur on his face was greasy and tangled. He probably hadn’t showered for days.

“Let me do the talking,” Wolfman whispered to us. “Hey dad, me and my friends want to start a band. Can we use your stuff?”

“Uh…sure, like, whatever. Just don’t mess anything up. And don’t touch my sock drawer!”

“Okay dad, cool.” Wolfman whispered to us again: “my dad’s pretty laidback, except for when it comes to his socks. He takes them real seriously for some reason. Anyway, just wait here for a second; I’ll be right back.” And with that, he ran upstairs into his dad’s room.

“So, you dudes are starting a band, huh?”

“That’s right,” Dracula answered proudly.

“Right on. Chicks dig guys in bands. That’s how I met little Wolfy’s mom -- Chicks dig guys in bands.”

“See, what did I tell you?” Mummy looked at me with a teasing grin.

I quickly changed the subject: “Mr. Wolfman, do you have any advice on how to get good really fast?”

“Uh…” He paused to think. “You just gotta, like, get in the music--”

“What the heck does that mean?” interrupted Mummy.

Wolfman’s dad chuckled. “I guess it’s something you can’t understand until you discover it for yourself…like love.” He nodded sagely. “Yeah, music is all about the love: you just have to let yourself get lost in the moment.”

The three of us were speechless.

“So,” he said, “what are you guys gonna call the band?”

“Transylvanian Boogie Rock-a-thon!” Mummy shouted wildly. We actually hadn’t discussed a name yet.

However, before I could protest, my attentions were turned to Wolfman as he came downstairs, amp and guitar in hand. “Okay guys, let’s go,” he said with a fanged grin. “The rest of the instruments are in the garage.”

When I got home that evening, Igor hobbled to the door in a fit.

“Frankie, where have you been? Victor and I were so worried!”

“I was practicing with the band at Wolfman’s house.”

“You could’ve called, you know!” He scratched his hump. “And since when were you in a band? You never tell us anything anymore!”

“Leave the boy alone, Igor!” my dad’s voice echoed from the laboratory, “He’s just in a phase right now!”

Igor looked at me pleadingly. “You should go down there and talk to him. Whether he shows it or not, he’s really concerned about you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Alright, fine.”

When I entered the lab, my dad was busy as usual with some experiment. This time he was boiling a flask of some green stuff while looking at something under his microscope. I’m not sure what he was doing exactly; every time I asked him about his work or anything else, he would give these complicated explanations that confused me even more.

“Francis, did I hear you say that you’re in a rock and roll band now?” He talked to me without looking up from his microscope (I hated it when he did that).

“Yeah: me, Mummy, Dracula, and Wolfman.”

“Really? Are you playing the organ again? I thought you gave up on music when you

quit your lessons.”

“Actually, I’m playing bass.” I answered sheepishly. “Mummy’s on drums, Dracula’s on keyboard, and Wolfman’s --”

“When did you learn how to play the bass?”

“I’m teaching myself.”

“That’s no good.” My dad let out his patented sigh of disapproval. “Intuition is nothing compared to the tried and true results of an established method.” He pointed to the flask of green stuff. “Nitro-fluoride, for example, boils at 74 degrees Celsius. I didn’t have to waste my time testing every single temperature to know that, because someone already performed such an experiment. All I had to do to was study. If we figured everything out for ourselves, there would be no progress at all!”

“But Wolfman’s dad says that music is something you have to discover on your own.”

“Well!” he puffed. “I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Wolfman at one of last year’s parent teacher conferences, and I can tell you that he’s nothing more than a common deadbeat.”

“Well at least he cares about his son!” I shouted, running off to my room.

The next day at school, I was feeling pretty lousy. I hadn’t talked to my dad since our argument. To make matters worse, Mummy had managed to tell the entire school about our band, promising everyone that we’d “rock the place till they begged us to stop.” The truth was that we were just beginning to learn how to play, and the chances of having even a barely decent song ready for the talent show were about the same as Dracula’s family becoming vegetarians.

As the hype spiraled out of control, I realized that I’d fallen prey to Mummy’s infectious pride and optimism once again -- a mistake that we’d pay for with the embarrassment of a lifetime, as usual.

Pacing around nervously between periods, I tried thinking of some way for us to get out of this whole band mess, but my mind was clouded with doubt and despair. The only thoughts that came into my head tormented me.

“Dad was right. You should stick to what you can do, and that means no more music, no more standing up to Bigfoot, and no more trying to impress Morganna.”

“Morganna...”

I let my thoughts peacefully settle on her, finding some comfort as I imagined her face, moving toward me with those soft, candy-apple-colored lips. “Morganna…”

“You say something, Frank?”

Snapping back to reality, I opened my eyes and saw Morganna, the real Morganna, standing before me!

“Did I really say her name out loud? Oh God, I did say it out loud! Why did she have to be right there at that exact moment? She must think I’m such a freak!”

“Oh! Uh, hi…” I stammered pathetically.

“How’s it going? I hear you’re in a band with Mummy and those other guys.” She looked at me with eyes that made my neck-bolts burn.

“Are you in a band or not? Make up your mind, Frank!”

“Uh yeah, well, kind of, I guess. I mean, yes! We’re playing at the talent show!”

“Now you’ve done it. When she sees you can’t play, she’ll think you’re a phony!”

“Oh,” she said. “Bigfoot has a band that’s playing in the talent show too. Sasquatch is getting some of his musician friends to help out.”

Sasquatch was Bigfoot’s older brother. A proud participant in one of Transylvania University’s many jerk-magnet fraternities, Sasquatch never failed to provide his younger brother with inspiration. I swear, it seemed like Bigfoot was bragging about his brother every five minutes. He’d always tell the same story about how Sasquatch raided this or that zombie sorority and stole these certain body parts from the girls there, or how Sasquatch drank this or that many cans of Pabst Blue Goblin or Supernatural Ice in one night. And now Sasquatch was going to help Bigfoot cheat in the talent show so he could steal our idea and make our humiliation all the more unbearable? I was so angry I couldn’t believe it. And as if that weren’t enough, there was the matter of Bigfoot and Morganna. The thought of him caressing her with those hairy, un-opposable thumbs made me feel less like an animated corpse and more like a corpse corpse. I couldn’t bear it anymore; I had to ask.

“Morganna, do you…” I gasped for air, as if the words were rancid: “do you like Bigfoot?”

“Oh geez, I don’t know.” She looked around to make that sure no one was listening.

“The girls I hang out with tell me I should go out with him, but…”

“But what?”

The bell for next period rang.

“I’ve got to go, Frank. I’ll talk to you later.” And with that, she disappeared into the torrent of students rushing to their next class.

I didn’t know what to think. She said that she wasn’t going out with Bigfoot, but was she considering it?

“Well Frank, one thing’s for sure: when the talent show comes around, you’ll lose whatever chance you have of her considering you.”

After school that day, me and the guys started heading back to Wolfman’s house for more practice. We all heard about Bigfoot’s band one way or another. Apparently they called themselves “Gore Fever”. Anyway, Mummy remained optimistic, but the rest of us were more nervous than ever with all the hype he built up that day.

“Did you have to tell so many people?” Dracula asked as we walked to Wolfman’s house.

Mummy grinned. “Why should we wait to cash in our ticket to fame?”

“Because maybe we don’t want to be famous for something we suck at,” I replied.

Mummy froze dead in his tracks. “How can you even say that?!” He took a moment to calm himself. “It’s like my mom says: ‘once you start thinking you can’t do something, then you’re always doomed to fail!’”

“Oh yeah?” I snapped back, “Well that philosophy certainly has gotten you far.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

Wolfman and Dracula were starting to get pretty darn uncomfortable at this point.

“It means,” I continued, “that every idea you think of always fails, and you’ll keep on failing until you wake up and realize that you’re just as miserable as the rest of us!”

“Hey, I like my life just fine!” Wolfman butted in.

“Me too,” added Dracula.

“What happened to you Frank? You sound just like your dad.”

“Screw you guys!” I ran from them as fast as I could, making sure not to look back.

“Fine!” I heard Mummy’s voice shout behind me in the distance, “We don’t need you anyway!”

I spent that evening sulking in my room. Everything had fallen apart: things were going horrible with my dad, I lost my chances with Morganna, and now I lost my friends. Could it get any worse?

I heard a soft knock outside my door.

“Oh great,” I muttered to myself, “The doctor is in.”

“Francis, is everything alright?” a muffled voice asked.

“No dad, it’s not alright!”

“I’m sorry about what I said the other day.” He let himself in, even though I never said he could (I hated it when he did that).

He sat down slowly on the foot of my bed, easing his weight into the springs with an audible crunch. “You know, I looked around the study for something that might help you become a better bass player, but all I could find was this book on electro acoustics.” He set a big dusty volume on the floor.

“I’m not in the band anymore, dad.” I still hadn’t turned around to face him.

“Why not? You seemed so excited about it yesterday.” He sighed. “I only wish that I could have noticed that sooner.”

“Yeah? Well I got into an argument with the guys, so it’s all over anyway.”

“I’m sure they’ll forgive you.” I saw an encouraging smile reflect in the window.

“How do you know?” I snapped.

He took a deep breath. “You know Francis, when I first constructed your body from a composite of various cadaver parts and reanimated it, I never once asked myself if I was ready to be a father. Looking back, Igor seemed far emotionally prepared than I was.” He paused a moment, searching for the right words. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes, not being there for you when I should have, not supporting you enough. I keep on trying to do a better job, because deep down I think I can make up for old mistakes. That, I think, is what it means to be forgiven.”

“Alright,” I said, “but how do I apologize?”

“Well, what did you think of my apology?”

I turned around. “Yeah,” I said, unable to restrain my smile. “This’ll do fine.”

The next day at lunch, I found Mummy sitting by himself in the cafeteria, sulking over a carton of chocolate tarantula milk with a blank expression on his face.

“Can sit I here?”

“Do whatever you want.”

I began picking at my stitches, trying to relieve the nervousness. It didn’t work.

“So, how’s the band?”

“The band’s finished.” He balled up the milk carton in a linen-covered fist.

I jumped from my seat. “Listen Mummy, you’re my best friend and I’d never say anything to hurt you!”

“You already did,” he replied, still deadpan. “Look, I’ve got to go.” He reached for his backpack.

“No, wait!” I grabbed hold of one of the straps before he could put it on. “I’m sorry! You were right! I want to save the band!”

“Oh yeah? What for?” He jerked the backpack from my grasp and began heading for the door.

Whatever I wanted to say never made it past the lump that had formed in my throat. It was too late now. I could only watch as my best friend shrank in the distance, leaving me forever.

Or so I thought.

Something clicked; I don’t know exactly what. It was like this familiar electricity suddenly appeared inside of me, shaking me from a deep sleep.

I sprung into motion. “I’ll tell you what for!” I shouted, running after him. “I want to save the band so we can show ourselves and everyone else that we’re capable of more than they think we are!”

He brought his walking to an indecisive halt. I took the opportunity to catch up.

Mummy had his back to me, still on guard. “Do you promise to stick with us till the end?”

“I promise!” I blurted, pinching off a flood of passionate appeals as I waited for a response.

Finally, Mummy spoke: “good to have you back, man,” he said, audibly choked up.

“Are you alright?”

“Hmph, of course!” He spun around and flashed that arrogant Mummy smile of his, the tears in his eyes quickly replaced with flickering determination. “Now let’s go show Bigfoot and everyone what Transylvania Boogie Rock-a-thon is made of!”

“Uh, yeah, about that…I was actually thinking we could all come up with a name together.”

“Yeah!” Mummy cheered, “We’ll start over, and this time we’ll do everything together!”

That afternoon, the band reunited in Wolfman’s garage with fresh resolve. We tried a bunch of new approaches. For instance, my dad actually dissected an eardrum the night before, trying to gain some kind of knowledge that could help me come up with a better bass line. He may have not found anything, but every time I thought about my dad sitting there all night in his nerdy lab coat as he sliced through some smelly old ear, I felt like a better player for some reason.

Wolfman’s dad helped out too. Sometimes he came into the garage to give us a few cool ideas for a riff or offer to help with some of the songwriting, but only every now and then. I think he kept his distance because wanted us to discover the music that was inside of ourselves, or something like that. I’m also pretty sure it had something to do with him not wanting to get up from the couch very often.

We practiced countless hours every day. Mummy’s drumming got better real fast. He carried his sticks around with him wherever he went, practicing on anything and everything he could find. His parents even had to ground him after he broke one of his great grandfather’s canopic jars when he tried drumming on them. He didn’t mind being grounded though: he just found more things to drum on in his room.

Dracula, like me, had taken organ lessons when he was younger, so he was able to quickly get back in the groove once he started playing again. His dad, the count, had a lot of money, so it was no surprise to us when he showed up at practice one afternoon with an authentic Horror Clavinet D666.

At this time we also changed the band’s name to something that we all agreed upon, just like Mummy had promised. From then on, we would no longer be the rushed and uncertain Transylvanian Boogie Rock-a-thon; we were now The Gravediggers, a confident group of musicians ready to rock our school to its foundations. And not a moment soon either: the talent show was only a few days away!

On the morning of Wednesday the 15th, me and the guys arrived at school pumped-up and ready for action. The day couldn’t pass quickly enough; all we could think about was our big debut at the talent show later in that evening. We planned to have an early celebration together at lunch, but when the time came for us to meet in the cafeteria, Dracula was nowhere to be found.

Fifteen minutes later, he showed up, looking like someone had put garlic in his shorts.

“Guys, I’ve got some bad news.”

“What?” We all started from our seats in unison.

Dracula continued: “you know Mr. Chupacabra?”

“The Spanish teacher?”

He nodded. “So the other day in his class, one of Bigfoot’s lackeys copied the answers off my test.”

“That’s not so bad.” Wolfman let out a nervous laugh. “Right guys?”

“Let me finish!” interrupted Dracula. “So anyway, today, after Mr. Chupacabra saw that the answers matched, he sent us both to Boogeyman’s office.”

“So, what happened?”

Dracula’s face was pale -- even for him. “He suspended us both until further notice,” he answered in a shaky voice.

Mummy shrugged. “Well, I mean, that’s bummer man, but at least tonight we--”

“He said I can’t play in the talent show while I’m suspended!”

We all fell silent. I stared blankly at our celebratory lunch, now reduced to a cheerless mass of empty calories.

Wolfman lifted his head back and let out a series of long, drawn-out howls, each more tragic than the last.

He spoke for all of us.

Our families had planned to meet for dinner at Dracula’s house in honor of the band’s performance that night. However, with the last minute cancellation of our act, things took on a different tone. Instead of celebrating over dinner, our parents just ended up talking about what a real jerk principal Boogeyman had been. At one point my dad called him a “pedantic wretch”. Anyway, they eventually got tired of complaining and began talking about grown-up stuff, at which point me and the guys excused ourselves from the table.

After a joyless meal of blood pudding, sangria, and kidney beans, we hung out on the floor in Dracula’s room and talked for while.

“At least we went the distance,” Mummy said with a dull flash of pride. “Right guys?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “All things considered...”

“Yeah, but it’d be even better if we could play tonight!” Wolfman whimpered.

We all groaned.

“Look,” I said, “There’s no use in tormenting ourselves. We’re just going to have to think of something else to do now.”

“Like what?”

The room fell silent.

“Well,” Dracula’s voice murmured from the back of the room, “We could still go to the talent show…if we wanted to, I mean”

Wolfman scoffed. “And watch Bigfoot’s band play our venue? Yeah right.”

“Hang on a second!” Mummy shouted, jumping on top of Dracula’s desk. “Don’t you guys remember why we started this band?”

“I dunno,” Wolfman answered, scratching his head with his foot. “To win the five hundred bucks?”

“No! We started the band so we could show the rest of Transylvania Junior High that we won’t just stand by and take their shit anymore!”

We looked up at Mummy in astonishment.

“You guys can sit around moping all night like Bigfoot expects us to, but I for one plan on going out fighting!” He jumped off the desk and held out the back of his hand. “Who’s with me?”

I laid mine over his. “I am.”

“Me too.” Dracula said, offering his hand.

The three of us looked over at Wolfman.

“What the heck,” he said, throwing in a paw. “The Gravediggers don’t run away, right?”

“Right!” We shouted in unison, leaping with our collective fist in the air.

We arrived at school with our families later that evening. We hadn’t missed the talent show, as the dessert potluck was still going on. And while most of our parents were too angry with the school to bring a dessert, Igor had insisted that my dad bring the spider-egg marshmallow squares he’d made the night before. Wolfman’s parents, true to their good nature, also contributed to the potluck with some of Mrs. Wolfman’s homemade brownies. In fact, Mr. Wolfman seemed a bit too good-natured for the situation, chatting with Principal Boogeyman over dessert and offering him a brownie.

Meanwhile, Bigfoot’s parents, the Yetis, made it no mystery where their son got his attitude from. They boasted in front of everyone, declaring with absolute certainty that their sons’ band was going to win first prize, whooping and pounding their chests where they felt it necessary. Bigfoot followed suit, telling all the kids how Sasquatch and his college buddies were going to show up any minute, at which point their band, Gore Fever, would cream the competition. That’s when he spotted me.

“Hey dweeb,” Bigfoot grunted as he approaching me, his gang trailing behind as usual. “Did you come here to watch Gore Fever sweep the talent show?”

“No.” I asserted plainly.

“Uh…well that’s what you’re gonna end up watching, because Gore Fever’s gonna sweep the talent show!”

“Yeah,” one of the goons in his posse added, “you’re lucky I copied your buddy’s test, ‘cause otherwise Bigfoot’s mad skillz would’ve put your little geek squad to shame!”

“Oh really?” I asked coyly, “Just what are you playing, Bigfoot?”

“The cowbell!” he said, puffing up his chest. “W,why, you got a problem with that?”

“The cowbell?” I chuckled. “Sounds to me like your brother and his friends are the ones playing all the music.”

“Oh Yeah?” he growled, “Well it’s more than you’ll be playing tonight, ‘cause your act’s cancelled. Get the picture, box-head?”

Suddenly, I glanced over Bigfoot’s shoulder and noticed Morganna standing on the other side of a window. She smiled and signaled for me to join her outside.

“Listen, Bigfoot,” I said, “have fun winning first prize; I gotta go.” I walking away grinning as he and his posse made chicken-noises behind me.

I made my way out the back, running as fast as I could to where I’d seen Morganna (I slowed down to a casual walk when I got close). Sure enough, there she was, sitting by herself and watching the night sky.

“Hi Frank.” I could see her smile in the light of the full moon.

I smiled back confidently, letting myself get lost in the moment. Wolfman’s dad was right: it was like playing music.

“What’s going on?” she asked, “You seem different tonight.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been through a lot lately.”

“Oh.” She looked at her feet timidly. “Well, you seem okay with it.”

“You know, I actually feel pretty good.”

“Even though your band’s act has been canceled?”

“You know about that?” I looked at her puzzled.

“Of course! One of Bigfoot’s lackeys was blabbing all day about how he sabotaged your act by getting Dracula suspended.”

“Yeah, that was pretty low of him.”

“Bigfoot’s such a twit.” She sighed. “I can’t believe I almost let him talk me into going out with him. I feel so stupid.”

My heart had almost skipped a beat. “You’re not stupid!” I blurted. “There’s a lot of pressure around here to be someone you’re not.”

Morganna paused a moment as she thought about it. “Yeah!” she finally cried triumphantly, “I’m sick of having to deal with nothing but phonies all the time! Who needs them?” She turned to me and took off her pointy hat, letting her long, dark hair tumble down her back. “It doesn’t matter to me if you’re in a band or not, Frank.”

I shook my head. “That’s not it at all! Sure, at first I thought the band was just another long shot at becoming popular, but now I really think it’s taught me a lot.”

“I can see that,” she said softly, resting her head on my boxy shoulder. Nothing could spoil this moment.

“Hey Frank!”

We started around to find Mr. Wolfman sticking his head out the window next to us.

He smirked. “Did I come at a bad time?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Good, because it’s time to get ready to go on stage! You and the other guys are on tonight!”

My stitches practically ripped. “What?!”

“I got Principal Boogeyman to de-suspend Dracula.”

“You did? How?”

“I got him to see things the my way.” He chuckled. “But explanations can come later! Let’s go!”

Following the Tap-dancing Skeleton Troupe’s act, Principal Boogeyman awkwardly stumbled on the auditorium stage.

“Wasn’t that awesome?!” he shouted far too loudly into the microphone. “Seriously, the way they did that thing with those clicky shoes and--”

Mr. Phantom, the vice principal, quickly whisked him off stage with a light, ethereal touch. “Excuse the principal, ladies and gentlemen,” he said apologetically. “Mr. Boogeyman’s not quite himself tonight.”

My dad shot a suspicious glance at Wolfman’s parents.

Mr. Phantom continued: “on another, more sobering note, I’ve received word from the local authorities that Sasquatch Yeti and the other members of the band “Gore Fever” have been arrested this evening for driving under the influence and committing indecent exposure from a moving vehicle.”

“My baby!” Bigfoot’s mom shrieked, rushing out of the auditorium to call the police station.

“Good-for-nothing son of a…” Mr. Yeti stood up indignantly. “Come on Bigfoot, let’s go!”

“But dad!”

“You can come with me or you can get a spanking!”

Bigfoot’s face went red as his dad yanked him out of the auditorium. Everyone in the audience was laughing hysterically.

“Ahem!” Vice Principal Phantom shouted over the audience in his drafty voice. “In light of recent events, Gore Fever’s act will be cut from the program and the evening will end early with our final act.” He motioned backstage. “Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for the GRAAAVE-DIGGEEERS!”

As the curtains drew back, Wolfman turned around to face us one more time. “You ready, guys?”

We nodded.

Mummy could no longer contain himself. “Let’s do this!” he shouted, raising his drumsticks above his head. “One-two-three-four!”

In that moment, when the raw energy pulsed through the equipment and the music sprang from our instruments, I could see my dad in the audience, beaming with pride as he mouthed the words, “it’s alive!” Seeing him (and Igor) there at that moment, I felt a strange yet familiar electricity flow through me. It was the same sensation that guided me along every step toward this moment. Suddenly, it all made sense: it was the power that my dad had given me life with. It had been giving me strength all along; I’d only forgotten, after guys like Bigfoot distracted me from it.

But now, having reclaimed my father’s gift, I channeled all of it into my bass. And just like that, I felt my fingertips spring forward like ten little soldiers, tearing their way through the most perilous barrage of notes ever committed to funk.

It was beautiful. I let my mind drift into the music, becoming a passive listener to what we were creating. I could hear the other guys: Mummy’s drumsticks cut the beat so close that he came within inches of drawing blood; Dracula’s chords, calculated with NASA-like precision, sent Wolfman’s guitar solo into space where the notes drifted weightlessly, until finally, our song re-entered the atmosphere in a blazing hot finale.

And as that final, scorching chord burned away into silence, from the ashes there arose a deafening roar. Barely able to comprehend the sounds we had just created, me and the guys quickly became lost in the sea of applause.

As I stood there adrift in that surreal moment, something suddenly exploded at my feet, wrenching my mind back to reality. As the puff of smoke cleared, I saw there materialize a delicate, black rose. I glanced back up at the audience and spotted Morganna, waving to me with one hand and holding a book of spells with the other. I picked up her gift and held it to my heart.

“Yeah,” I said, unable to restrain my smile. “This’ll do fine.”

Wake Up Bobby - Web Video

2008-07-29T03:29:00.000-07:00

Bobby's day to day life is a waking nightmare.

Another surreal video experience about the modern human condition by Adam Harms and James De La Loza.