Except for the neon sign which didn't come into play till years later my make believe hideout looked a lot like this when I was still a kid. Breakups weren't exactly an issue since I didn't ponder about girls too much in those days but I'm pretty sure that loneliness in general is an all ages ordeal. Maybe it was just me and all the choices I've made but I must've been a boring kid due to the social retardness that seemed to be my shtick ever since I started to mingle. Seeing how I'm the world's most repetitive blogger today not much has changed. I just wanted to point out though that in spite of the heat it's been a real good summer if you're into deep blueish stuff that stretches out for miles and miles and way over your head. At this time of year 9pm bike rides definitely deliver after a humid day. I would also like to establish once more to all five of my followers and possible other readers that poppunk still has that special in my heart right next to my GF, my memories and Regi ca. 2002. God, it's so hot right now.
Some five years ago an old lady bought a box of junk at a Michigan yard sale. When unpacking her junk at home she bumped into an 8mm film with a tag that said “GABLE CASE #MPO41177-1”. After finally obtaining a projector she seemed a bit shaken by what she saw on the film so she passed it on to local radio DJ Steve Cook who, in that area, is also known as the creator of the Michigan dogman song and a somewhat questionable character. He somehow obtained the rights to the film, had it examined by ‘experts’ and just put it up on youtube when those ‘experts’ couldn’t come up with anything conclusive. The film caused quite a stir in crypto circles and was taken offline again all in the span of a couple of weeks somewhere in mid-2007. I missed the boat on this one the first time around but luckily for me the film made a huge comeback a month or so ago when somebody uploaded the full version on youtube. Fox news picked up on it and all of a sudden thousands of theories as well as a new piece of film (gable film part deux) started to pop up all over the world wide paranormal web. Despite the shakiness of the back story and the pretty big Blair Witch vibe which I already find quite charming the film itself is actually really cool. Whereas the first one just depicts the attack the full version added a lot of background to the original. The first few minutes show random footage that seems pretty typical for a kid that just got his hands on his first camera. A lumberjack family doing their lumberjack business. Fooling around on snow scooters, chopping some wood, fixing their Ford pick up truck and rocking more flannel and sketchy haircuts than a 1991 grunge vid. If not actually shot in the seventies it’s clearly intended to look that way. All items stem from that era and if this really is a hoax then somebody went well out of his way in obtaining all this stuff and was actually clever enough not to make any mistakes in that department since it all seems to add up. Things really start to get going when this kid decides to take his camera out on a little roadtrip and appears to be looking for something. You briefly see him filming himself in the side view mirror before he spots something unusual. This is sort of unnoticeable when played at regular speed but somebody blew up the frame and it shows a human type of being doing some sort of stretch-out in a field. A lot of shaking ensues and the person holding the camera, could be the driver at this point, gets out and films the following: for half a second it looks like a person crawling on all fours in a bear suit or something and a human leg can actually be seen very briefly. As it’s moving sideways, keeping an eye on the guy that’s filming, it’s sort of looks like the gait of a silverback gorilla and when the beast decides to make its move it does so in a way that makes it look impossible for a human in a suit to pull off. At one point it actually leaps over a log or a trunk and whilst in the air it seems to be morphing into a raging bull. Some more shaking follows which probably means this dude is making a run for it and the last thing you see of the creature is a canine snout taking a bite at the camera. That last shot is so over the top it almost seems like it’s added for dramatic effect but there’s some weird shit happening nonetheless if you open up your mind to this type of stuff. As far as theories go, some claim it’s the family dog running around wearing one of those bear rugs you put in front of your fireplace, others say it might actually be a werewolf due to the morphing thing that seems to be going on. If this is fake I’d go with CGI as I can’t really think of any other way to hoax this or maybe somebody tampered with the footage of an actual bear attack. For now I’ll just say that this was one of the coolest hoaxes in a long long time but as with any other paranormal case we’ll never really know what did or didn’t happen. And that, my dear friends, is the life and death of cryptozoology.
It’s like when I close my eyes and I can still see everything I want to see. As if life itself becomes something tangible and is being boxed and crammed inside my bewildered head and my mind starts playing all these tricks and starts pulling all these strings. I grow a heart and a pulse and it collapses walls and I’m out in the open, following power lines. I can feel the electricity as I’m tagging all the streetlights across this town and across the country and straight into the real world. I can see the real world. I can see it upside down. Sometimes prettier and sometimes uglier than reality really wants me to believe. I can still see all the signs flickering on and off. Sometimes slower and sometimes faster than reality wants me to believe. I can still see a life that’s miles away from mine without there being any connection whatsoever. It’s all just a misunderstanding and it’s all just really easy to unravel but courageous people rarely breathe and I breathe rather heavily when I sleep and when I dream and when I’m wide awake in the faintest morning after sun. Nightlife defragments me and I always make the same mistakes. A billion pieces left wherever I go with hopes of someone tracking me down and I end up finding myself scattered across the floor. A veil of nothingness covering hundreds of non-plussed kids out in the streets that are supposed to be familiar but never shake the feeling of being lost. When I open my eyes I see cars spun out of control hugging telephone poles and it’s a lifestyle I’d love to call my own. Fuck me for holding out and fuck you for holding in.
I haven’t bought a twelve inch slab of vinyl in ages but I bumped into KNAPSACK’s Silver Sweepstakes LP last weekend and got pretty stoked. I’ve known this band for so long now and this was actually the first time I came across some of their recorded output irl. I paid a tenner, which is way over my usual price for flea market finds, and went home with a record still shrink wrapped yet worn out by years spent in a curver box. The chances of this ever getting played are slim to none though. Locating a record player in my room is like one of those where’s Wally drawings and I have a digital copy anyways so I’ll just leave this with all my other stuff and know it’s there somewhere in my room or in my house or in my life whenever that digital copy is doing its digital rounds. Fans of SAMIAM/good music; click and rejoice.
I also picked up Henry Poole Was Here (or A Perfect Day For An Imperfect Man as it appears to be called over here) and thoroughly enjoyed it. The feeling of watching your former self go to the places you’ve come to fear the most is fully backed. You get nothing out of it but it passes the time and what else are you supposed to do on hot summer days or cold winter nights?
Last Monday, when I was on my way to work in the wee hours, I saw a rabbit getting caught in a headlight. Then the next day, about 24 hours later, I saw a person being caught in an ambulance. Both might be dead by now. This week’s soundtrack to the 5 am eeriness was carefully selected by myself and consisted of LED ZEP’s Achilles Last Stand, AYWKUBTTOD’s Source Tags And Codes and large chunks PORTER HALL’s Everything I Know Is Stolen. The latter is a record I tend to dig up every couple of months ‘cause songs from it get stuck in my head on a real consistent basis. This band hailed from Alberta, home of the Albertosaurus, and they sorta remind me of the stuff JIMMY EAT WORLD did way back when Tom Linton was still singing lead(singles comp ftw). The vocals on Everything I Know are a bit harsher and gruffier and their sound also has a slight Midwest tinge to it so they basically meet all your nineties emo requirements. Hooks are catchy as hell but somehow no one ever got hooked besides me and that guy from Dead Serious Rex of classic NYHC reissue fame. Still no clue as to why he decided to put this out as it took the band well over a year to record and another year to find a label and, posthumously, get it out. It’s just really weird they couldn’t even get the attention of any of the billion smaller indie labels out there. Anyways, I checked and it’s no longer up on the DS webstore so the link I’m posting might actually be legit. Plus I got this as a freebie myself anyway when I still visited the Good Life office more regularly. It was either this or the ENEMY OF THE SUN EP.
Except for the neon sign which didn't come into play till years later my make believe hideout looked a lot like this when I was still a kid. Breakups weren't exactly an issue since I didn't ponder about girls too much in those days but I'm pretty sure that loneliness in general is an all ages ordeal. Maybe it was just me and all the choices I've made but I must've been a boring kid due to the social retardness that seemed to be my shtick ever since I started to mingle. Seeing how I'm the world's most repetitive blogger today not much has changed. I just wanted to point out though that in spite of the heat it's been a real good summer if you're into deep blueish stuff that stretches out for miles and miles and way over your head. At this time of year 9pm bike rides definitely deliver after a humid day. I would also like to establish once more to all five of my followers and possible other readers that poppunk still has that special in my heart right next to my GF, my memories and Regi ca. 2002. God, it's so hot right now.
