Um, this Portland band FINESSE? It's Avalon Kalin, the original drummer for Glass Candy ('member when they had a Shattered Theatre and she wore earmuffs onstage? Such a cute Luke) and, of course, the amazing SUSAN PLOETZ aka PASH(ly). I think they're just fantastic. Here's their video for their new single ELEVATE:

Finesse - Elevate from Experimental 1/2 Hour on Vimeo.

I love this video so much. Susan is absolutely 100% killing it.
Actually, wait. Can we stop saying "KILLING IT"? I've heard this a lot lately, from a lot of people I love and respect. Including me, myself. I've been saying it a lot. And just typing it right now, I feel like: do I really want to be conflating "killing" with "being cool"? Nope. I am hereby calling for us to stop saying "killing it". I'm going to stop saying it, anyway. Whatever.

So whatever, Susan is totally BEING REALLY COOL AND AMAZING in this video. Sort of Life-affirming, too. Giving me some serious Scandinavian Witch vs. Deee-Lite Lower East Side 1990s vs. Citizens from the Emerald City in The Wizard of Oz vs. Sylvester effects. So inspiring. I watch it every day when I get dressed. Seriously.

My friend Ben directed this fantastic show called PROJECT: LOHAN at La Mama. It was fantastic. Really. I loved it a lot. The show is comprised entirely of real interview quotes, and tabloid headlines. So it’s pretty factual. I was really deeply affected by it. The fucked up thing about Lindsay Lohan is that she’s aware that she’s a train wreck. You know? Maybe not e3ven a train wreck. But she’s really self-conscious. Probably because she grew up in the spotlight. She is aware of the eyes trained on her. She knows what the expectations of her are, and she knows when she is meeting these expectations. She knows we think she’s full of shit.

And I think that’s really sad and beautiful. I don’t know. I don’t mean, in any way, to compare myself to Lindsay Lohan. I’m a lot taller than she is. But I do have the same sense of, like, it being an okay thing to complain about: what people think about you. That complaint (what people think about you) makes you a narcissist. It makes you even less likable. It’s totally crazy. As even casual readers of the blog will note: I’m a huge fucking baby. A big baby with an ostensible project or goal in life. Lindsay often says that she is “just trying to act” and of course has not been thought of much as an actress. I, also, myself, think of myself as an artist. A performer and writer. But am, like Linsday, known mostly for not living up to these expectations.

I really like this idea of a personality or identity being up for grabs. Like, someone who is aware that you are laughing at her and can respond to it. It’s not that she doesn’t care—she totally cares. That’s why we hate her. Because she’s listening. Lindsay reveals the callousness of the public. And it’s complicated, too. She is a party girl. She does mean shit. She’s fucked up sometimes. She knowingly and willingly breaks the law. We’re repulsed and fascinated by her. These are things I would think of myself as striving towards. But I would refer to these phenomena as “audience engagement”.

Maybe what I am saying is that I want to be like Lindsay Lohan on a much smaller scale. I feel too old or something. I’m just really fascinated by this idea of someone who is a beautiful fuck-up. Who is gorgeously unlovable, and knows it. What do you do with that?

I did this reading last night with some amazing people: Gerry Visco (she organized it), Gio Black Peter, Slava Mogutin, Joseph Keckler, Jennifer Blowdryer, Michael Weiner, and Dale Peck. Everyone really blew me away. It was at the Munch Gallery. Just so much fun. And Miss Gerry had the event sponsored by Perrier. Which was so classy. I felt like I was in France or something. Monaco. Anyway it was a great time.

I read from this new piece I'm sort of working on, ENCOURAGER. But of course, wouldn't you know, I fucked it up. I printed the wrong version of the piece I wanted to read from. And I left some stuff out. So I am reproducing it here. It's from someone (Billy Cheer) calling the complaint department.

This big time book publisher wants to talk to me but not about my writing which is fantastic but about my ass. My capacity for taking it. He wants me to know that he used to be a bottom but now he’s a top and he wants to ask me how I like it? Do I want it to hurt? Do I want him to stop? How does it feel, with him inside of me? I’m thinking I don’t even need to be here. It’s like a puppet show. The loop is closed he wants to do the questions and the answers. Doesn’t wanna see my manuscript but wants to see something else.

He wants what any Publisher or Gallerist or Journalist or Poet wants. He wants revenge.

It’s like the television gets angry. The TV’s mad because all they ever want to watch on it is Westerns. Shoot em ups. The TV’s so tired of depicting violence, masculinity, some fake Western fantasy. None of this ever happened but the TV shows you pictures of it and then you train your guns on the TV. To shoot the enemy through the screen. Just unplug me. I have a headache. How do you say “TV” in French?

I kind of had to make up what I thought I left out. i didn't get it exactly right but I liked the way I got it. but I also like the way I meant to get it. So I guess you could say I like two things equally, they are:
- What's I get (the reality)
- What I want (the fantasy).

Maybe it's the same thing.
Writing horoscopes before bed, while 5HTP kicks in.

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