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smog-soot covered rose in west hollywood

braingarbage has been collecting dust.  in fact, with ever microgram of particulate los angeles soot in my lungs i feel sicker and more apathetic than ever before.  all the aromatherapy in the world can't green my lungs enough to make sense of this decrepit city.
as i wind up my semester here (in hell) i realize i have to keep going, and will do anything to stay in school especially if i can study something amazing like environmental policy at portland state university.
braingarbage began as a way to kill time until my series of courses at los angeles city colllege began february 2008.
i would have never imagined school to become blog-wothy, but actually dishing the dirt on my school has become in a sense more fun than writing artsy stuff.
http://thereallacc.blogspot.com/
i teased nick maybury that braingarbage is secretly a fan page with a few arts stories in between to make it look diverse and objective.
if anyone can break my creative blocks, it's nick maybury.
so here's more about him.
like i know anything.
Leif Garrett is some brilliant child star of disco who is scooping him away to korea in a couple of days.  how does nick do it, keep focussed on making contacts and working, living another day?
he saw charlotte gainsbourg at coachella.  her IRM and 'voyage' pick me up off the floor.
beyond that, i have secret wind of a DJ niky may gig at bungalow eight in london late june or july.
i really love london.  for no reason except all the proper dandies and architecture.
and then cameron powell told me thunder from heaven plays cinespace june 6th, which selfishly will make a good soundtrack for my LSATS the next day.
metal and logic!  what a winning combination.

more on the nick maybury.
remixes.
electro.
so what i heard last night, no one's heard, it may be safe to say.
i have to admit i am almost a little proud to have decked up his studio with the most colorful collages and obsessive portraiture i could keep in the closet.
he looks like a character out of a book.
he in fact is, a character in my book.
the newer book will be about the evolution of fantastical love and eternity.
this old one was about androgyny and pain.
http://www.myebook.com/index.php?option=ebook&id=19575
nick, is the character who brings light and optimism and sensitivity into the aftermath of apocalypse.
i think he does this for a lot of people.
not just me.

all the rad power girls are making it okay for liberation from gender!!!
go la roux!
http://www.myspace.com/larouxuk for pioneering the androgynous future!
allison mosshart, ladyhawke, MIA!!!!  thank you all you tough girl chic powerfemmes!!!!
can we fix our civic inequality too???  not just music?
ipso facto?

as for this secret nick maybury/niky may unpublished music,
the electro loops are too fast for ears, too happy.
and then, add layers of patient, intricate ambient maybury guitar. the contradiction thrives.
i told him i saw fashion.
he said maybe he should give it to stefan dahlquist over at http://www.moodsofnorway.com/

i told him what we need more are sentimental melodies.  that people don't have enough of that.  that that is his forte.  among many.

his new secret solo work, first off, always reminds me of beck.
we need to beg nick maybury to do a show.  yeah lalala, he's an amazing guitar player, really.   but the whole secret side of things are that that is the tip of the iceberg.   his voice is clear and strong and unafraid to go into melodic landscapes that would frighten others.
a friend i knew told me of the folk music called between from the mountain tops in sweden to communicate the whereabouts of sheep.
i thought of this.
of sigur ros.
celtic things and the music of afganistan.
i don't have frame of reference for this.
except we sung last night together.
more so than ever.
really there were only a few occasions.
october 5th.  sometime in march maybe, for the "break free" remix which is here:
http://www.myspace.com/nikymay
once with the slide electric.
and then last night.

it was really tempting to start recording what happened for youtube.
as melody can create images for those cultivating synesthesia, i told him, i felt the blood of my dead child aborted in 2002.  i saw those mountaintops . . . and then the character in a book.
radiohead kept jumping into my head.
and choir music.
plain chant.
i bet nick would like the chansons francaise of neo-classicist francis poulenc.

coachella was less exhausting via five minutes of specator facebooking.
i saw perryetty at an old marc jacobs show on style.com raving about fashion . . .
aren't they sweet?

i can see the green trees, as my brother gabriel and david koci (electro artist reberhead) deserted nashville in september 2003.
we drove out on I-40, to get away from the hatred and bigotry of the South, despite all the good music.
modest mouse saw us all the way here, to this smogpit called LA.
underworld's 100 days off saw us too, with "dirty epic" resonating in my brain.
i remember when music had the power to help me.
i am beyond help now.
i want hebrew, and arabic, and swedish, the music of many languages and world peace.
music does little, except the maybury holds.
i have known that you don't need very much favorite music at all.
just enough.
KID A for years.
if charlotte gainsbourg survived her brain cancer scare and wrote IRM to tell it, might i survive this terror of los angeles which has made my days a waking nightmare of panic????

that nick could make some music to make me stay, like the swedish nineties band SALT's "stay," do you wish to stay?
absolutely not.
nothing in the world could make me fill my lungs up with another year of LA smog, nothing, not even the music of nick maybury, free tuition in hell (LACC), or more financial coups suing my landlord/boss/creepy violator type.

i have to give it a rest.
exist in memory.
process it.
write about it.
live simply.
garden.
jog through the forest park in the southeast, through the rainy mist.
inhale the rosemary and lavender.
learn how to see beauty everywhere.
go visit my father at the retirement home.
help my mom to not be so homophobic.
tell her its killing me.
all the hatred everywhere.

study environmental law.
go to the lawyers guild.
protect activists.
i told cameron powell, that he is the reason i want to help the environment.
i want a beautiful world for people like him.
he said it's there. the ocean.
i believe him.
like i could leave the house .  .  .

and as the BP oil spill pumps black gold into the gulf, every day since 4-20-10, the day nick and i were dreaming up his future website . . . climate refugees will go where they might . . .
and find a way to make music between the walls of guantanamo, and all isolation tanks, pits of sensory deprivation, hells of cruelty/civilization, including our own skulls.

whatever happened, with a call and chant and vocal layering, over the electro and with the guitar loops, was the most wonderful experience of my life, last night.
a conversation without words, communicating with the dead, and with the unborn, the future undead.
i don't know if i will be the one lucky enough to collaborate with nick maybury in the future.
but the transpersonal ellisions do occur, except he is so unique.
and our ears have a love of similar things.
i sang him the melody of a song i wrote for him, last week.

then the imperative, let's practice.
annie gaia may come back from memphis with her vocal chords.
but what is really critical is, how life-and-death this all is.
i never feel okay about planes, cars, food.
life is so fragile.
any day seems a good day to lose life and limb.
plenty of people are dying, of smog, cancer, hunger.
if we are going to live, what are we doing it for?
why can't our generation pick up the pieces of the broken world and stop spreading hate and lies?
why can't we feed people and end war?
why does los angeles crucify the poor on the streets every night, with a raging homelessness epidemic, so severe it scares the tourists.
how is this humane?
how can we just listen to music and have another drink?
will music set us free?
or law?
who will write the laws of the future that protect human beings, animals, the earth?
who will take the bloody carcass from their lips, and admit, meat is murder, and civilization murder, too?
this city built on the bodies of the poor, crushed by immigration law and corporate cruelty, will crumble, is crumbling.
welcome to the future.
cam powell said, "he is from the future."
i told cam, that when i get sad about stuff i talk about the future.
saying things like, "the men of the future will respect women, and speak peacefully of them."  or "in the future, there will be no need for war."
"in the future we will care about the environment."

i want to go to a tiny corner of rainy portland and meditate on what i have seen and heard here.
it will not take so long for me to get to the end of all these thick books that weigh on me like war and peace.


i have a sixty year deadline.
afraid i will last at least until ninety-two, especially if i get out of this carcinogenic smogpit city.
kudos to mr. brainwash for giving me a perspective on what its all about.
http://www.mrbrainwash.com/
goebbels had it too, that master propagandist flare.

but when will people take the wool from their eyes and realize they are being robbed blind of their dignity, until every being is fed and respected, educated and treated kindly?
down with all false binaries, fascisms, violence in speech, and violent social policy, foreign policy.

i want to go to a place where the men call me "sister" and not "bitch."
the women of los angeles need to understand the internalized misogyny of crap pop culture will delay the future of civil rights for all.
the men aren't helping.
stop calling each other bitter names, and realize we are one.
i am so sorry everyone.  it's like water for chocolate.  trying to make something out of nothing.
i like nothing better than something sometimes.


all the negativity of pop-hatred is on my last nerves.  has been for years.
it would take a thousand nick mayburys to make me stay.
http://www.myspace.com/nickmaybes
so bye bye, los angeles, hell, crematoria of the poor, misogynist propaganda channel.
plus sorry about the internet.
the emperor has no clothes.
http://agoraphobicfashion.blogspot.com/

listen to zomby, get out while you can, and have a very merry death.
http://www.myspace.com/zombyproductions

hey and nice to see you looker steve campo of the downtown train, los angeles blues band.
thanks for surviving the smokepit of cinespace's carcinogenic "smoking patio."

PS cinespace, cam powell, elmo, abe, los angeles haters, tell your illiterate DJ's we were tired of prodigy's "smack my bitch up" in the nineties.
you know, back when you were ten years old.
we don't need a bunch of adorable emo kids like skrillex to regurgitate nineties tweaker misogyny all over us.
it just makes them look like idiots.
it hurt enough the first time.
thanks.

and hey, i'll just go back and read my domestic violence caselaw book. and leave you two-bit four-word sieg heil women haters to yourself to listen to the same boring hateful song until the end of eternity.
and then go back to school where the creepy old professors harass . . . the job where bosses harass . . . the city where i was almost killed  . . . blah blah blah
f-u
and i don't curse, you know that by now.
but really f-u from the bottom of my heart, los angeles and haters and cinespace and prodigy.
i'm the idiot who goes there, right?
but i just wanted to bump into nick and cam.
they would never say BS around me.
not now, knowing me a little better, and knowing how prone i am to cry.