Wow, these are totally not terrifying or anything.
More here: Clown Portraits
Dear Buffalo Wings,
Do you mind if I call you Buffy? Wingies? B-wings? Is that last one too Star Wars? Whatever. You need a nick name, but I am not sure any of those are sticking, Buffs. Wingers. Bwangs. Bwangs??? Where did the A come from? Regardless, Buffles, we need to work this out.
But the real point of this letter is to talk to you about your deliciousness. You are, even when you are not, one of my favorite things to eat in the whole world. There are few things I find as pleasurable as getting sweaty and having my nose run from your spicy, buttery sauce. I dare not touch my telephone or eyes or light colored clothing while tearing meat free from your delicious bones. When I’ve finished, I walk directly to a sink with my hand held out so as not to spread your delicious sauce on things and people and then I wash my hands with tremendous sadness. Come back, buffalo wing sauce! Come back! And when my ritual is finished, I always want more.
The bar next to my house has ¢25 wings on Sunday nights. It is a rare Sunday I do not stop in and spend 3 dollars. One Sunday I spent 6. I wouldn’t be surprised if, at some point down the road, I spent 9. I just can’t help myself, but, then again, I don’t see the issue. There is no issue. I love you, Bwingerz. I love you a lot.
I remember once upon a time, Juli and I were on vacation up in the Finger Lakes. We stopped into a local brewpub for dinner one night after a long day of hiking around. I scanned the menu and saw that they had wings in the appetizers in four heats: mild, medium, hot, and nuclear. I asked our server, a young man of dubious sobriety, how hot the nuclear wings were. Were they really as hot as they wanted to seem or were they just tooting their own proverbial horn? He replied that he didn’t really like spicy things and that he had never tried them. Of course, he was not quite so eloquent. I cocked an eyebrow, decided to throw caution to the wind, and ordered the nuclear wings. That’s just the kind of guy I am. When they arrived at the table, they were pink and black and covered in pepper seeds, not unlike the merciless peppers of Quetzalacatenango. Juli took a single bite of a wing and put it down unable to take the heat. I ate 9 of the 10 wings on the plate.
Let me tell you, B-Ws, these things were fucking hot. Hot enough, in fact, that I got high on endorphins. Literally high. I was tripping balls on neurotransmitters released by my pituitary gland because IT THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE. That is awesome. I’d never gotten high on food before. I hope to achieve that success again, Wing Beezies, and you will help me get there.
Until Sunday (or perhaps sooner),
The Black Laser
Now that it is embeddable, here is Huoratron’s new track from his forthcoming album Cryptocracy. And it totally rules. Charles described this video best, I think, when he wrote, “so much danish forest bloodrave zombies”. I don’t think I even need to say anything else about this, except that they are probably Finnish forest bloodrave zombie, not Danish forest bloodrave zombies. Watch the video. If you have epilepsy, don’t watch the video. The warning up front is accurate. Lots and lots of flashing things.
Firmly at the top of my “Am I Secretly a Lesbian” playlist in Spotify, Austra is a Canadian group that I sort of stumbled on somehow but that I really dig. They’ve written an excellent record of dark electro-pop that is kind of Bat For Lashes, kind of Fever Ray, kind of old school Ladytron, but still totally their own thing. I’ve been listening to it a lot on my commute.
As far as the video goes, I have no damned idea what’s going on. Probably some super cool, next level, Canadian artsy lesbian shit that I don’t know about. Whatever it is, they seem to having a very earnest time. Good for them.
This is Huoratron’s other single. The video for this thing is highly work unsafe, so go ahead and heed the warning at the beginning.
I don’t have anything terrible smart to say about this except that it is an awesome track with an equally awesome, terrifying video. Get pumped for the release of Huoratron’s Cryptocracy in April. Doesn’t that sound like a super metal name? Maybe it’s just how close it sounds to Cryptopsy, but Cryptocracy could easily be the title of some old school death metal record and 12 year old Joe would have been all, “Damn, that is fucking metal, dude.”
I read that Huoratron is coming out with a record and thought, “Man, did I ever post that on The Black Laser????” And guess what?!?! I hadn’t! What the hell! How could I let you all down like that?!?
On the strength of this one track, Charles and I went to see Huoratron (pronounced “whore-a-tron”) at Webster Hall. Prior to the show we sat in front of a college dorm and drank a couple 4 Lokos (the old, good kind) each. They we went into the seething madness that is a party at Webster Hall and danced until we were sweaty, awful messes. It was great. Huoratron’s set was fucking awesome and jarring and dissonant. A lot like this video, but, you know, like an hour long.
I am pretty psyched about the new record coming out. I just preordered the LP on Amazon. I wanted to share this with all of you. There’s another one coming later on.
I have these new buddies who have this band called The Click Clack Boom. They’re damn good. I like to describe them as a spacey, modern, prog-rock jam band if that makes any sense. Actually, that description sounds like complete bullshit, but go see them live and I think you’ll understand what I am talking about. I am totally right in this.
Today, during a slow moment at work, I youtubed them to see if they had any music videos. Lo and behold, they did. This is it. They have some other performance videos on their channel, but this is the only legit music video. I like it. It’s simple and beautifully shot and cut nicely. You should watch it and, if you live in places where they play, you should go see them. Check out their Facebook page. Support them.
Now good. Spread their names to the corners of the Earth.