Transmissions from Dialup

I write to you this late evening from Northeastern Kansas where I have been forced to heed my own words and "unplug".

My cellphone has been rendered inoperable due to T-mobile's lack of care for the residence of this rather unpopulated state. My usual status of constant connection to highspeed internet has been taken away.

My parents have purchased 30 chickens which are currently laying 7 eggs per day. I ate 3 of them this morning for my breakfast, the eggs not the chickens. I commented on the state of these poor chickens which have been cooped up in a rather small pen. Somehow this escalated into a protest on my part.

I ended up in the pickup truck with my father traveling to one small town where the lumber store had apparently closed. I suppose they have been outsourced to India or China, but then again I'm pesimistic. We finally found a lumber store that was open 50 miles away and picked up lumber and chicken wire.

I spent the rest of my day with my father digging holes for posts, leveling them and building the frame for an extended chicken yard, which I have proclaimed will double the egg output.

We ended our day pouring concrete round the posts and drinking beer as we basked in the glory of the beautiful frame we have built. We then discussed my father's missionary trips to Peru and Ecuador. Sometimes I wonder if I could ever be as great as this man.

I wrote a song in the truck. Here are the lyrics. They're hokie. I don't care.


The rooster's out there crowin' and struttin' with his legs
It's time to feed the chickens and gather up the eggs.
This small town's really strugglin' but it's stronger than you think.
You can see it from the highway but you'll miss it if you blink.
It's time to feed the chickens and gather up the eggs.
throw some bacon on the skillet and some boots upon your legs.
The factories move to china and the people move away
but the ones who really love this town are out there bailing hay.
there's fence that needs a mending and there's cattle needing fed
they work till they're exhausted then they fall into their beds
till the rooster starts a crowin' and struttin on his legs then
it's time to feed the chickens and gather up the eggs.

These are my roots people.

My father said something interesting which somehow became profound. The only thing you hear out here is the ringing of your own ears. He's right. It's so loud. The city traffic, the subway, all of it. It rings in my ears. I cannot find silence even here where it is silent. K is in Canada. I am in Kansas. Tomorrow I finish the frame and pull the chicken wire round the posts and feel the satisfaction of a job well done. I will gather the eggs after I've eaten eggs for breakfast. It all is in balance and yet I miss my boyfriend. I miss the noise of the city. At the same time I'm content and happy out here on the praerie, hearing the coyotes howling after sunset, sitting with my father drinking beer and smoking cigars. There is a simplicity that I miss, yet there is a complexity of noise and clatter that I need to fill my scattered head.

Ethan Hawke or Golden Shower Sally?

(Ethan Hawke in Gattaca 1997/Ethan Hawke 2007)

Living in New York it is quite common to pass by A thru Z list celebrities, porn stars, and even occasionaly people you want to gush over who give you the evil I will rip your eyes out with a rusty spoon if you tell me you love my body of work look.
BTW, think twice before you approach Bjork in front of the T-Mobile store while she's holding a water bottle, wearing gym clothes and engaged in conversation with an unknown man. I'm not saying she's crazy or anything, cuz we all know she's brilliant, but then again, I'm not saying she's crazy or anything. I adore Bjork. I even saw Dancer in the Dark 4 times in the theater which many say qualifies me as a professional masochist. Don't click on that by the way if you just ate, are thinking of eating, if you're in public or just generally need to keep your shit together.

Anyway, this post is not about Bjork. So, I used to have this big crush on Ethan Hawke. Just thinking of him scrubbing the dead skin off his body in Gattaca gets me all hot and bothered down in my nethers. Yes, I know it's too much information.
Have any of you seen him lately though? I passed him in the street the other day pacing outside of Pinkberry. I think his kids were inside and he had this crazy paranoid thing going on and not in a hot way. It has been ten years since Gattaca. Oh gravity, why art though so cruel?

Before I ran into Ethan Hawke I passed a woman in the crosswalk who obviously was homeless and smelled so much of Urine that it made me sad. It wasn't even like a whiff. She was full on golden shower sally. I felt bad. I wanted to give her a hug, but for obvious and many reasons that would have been a bad idea. How strange that she made me want to hug her and Ethan Hawke made me feel creeped out. sigh.

Unplug Digital Pre-Release

The Unplug Single will be available for digital pre-release next week.
This is a pre-release available to members of the Elist only.
If You haven't yet signed up, get it in gear, cuz I know you're gonna love it...and of course you want to be first, don't you?

Join the E-List

Unplug & Reachout Til Oct. 25th

I have posted an unmastered version of Unplug (Reachout Mix) on Myspace.
It will be available for your listening pleasure until October 25th.

Lotsa Love,

Robert

Taxi Fried Chicken, Fireworks, Ashes & Dust

Photo by Carrie Thomas

I am at my nature a juggler. I don't know that my form is enjoyable to watch. I don't have a fancy polka dot costume. None the less, I am constantly spinning plates on sticks while throwing fiery batons over my head.

The one thing I consistently drop in this constant juggling act, is adequate sleep. It is the first thing that is sacrificed for the greater good. Perhaps it is the reason for my sloppy form.

On Saturday I decided to fully embrace the world of slumber, sleeping into the early afternoon. Oddly the act of doing nothing makes me extremely hungry, so I decided to call up Mr. Carpentier for a bit of brunch. After brunch we went to the playground to swing on the swingsets of course, but the children were in full command. God forbid the children use the swings and deprive us of one of our few life pleasures. How selfish. We eventually did get to swing.

We were later joined by K and enjoyed a few beers. K had to rush to the city and Mr. C had to rush home to greet his visiting sister. My mind was fixated on fried chicken. They decided to share a cab and convinced me to go along for the ride with promises of friend chicken in my future. We were riding in the cab when we saw the heavenly lights of KFC in distance.

The next thing I know we are in a cab going through the KFC drivethrough. It was such a perfect ridiculous moment fit for my Hello Kitty Scented Diary. In case you have any curiousity, I ordered 6 legs extra Crispy. K was yelling at the crackly speaker. Of course they didn't understand him so they initially handed me wings and then finally gave me legs original recipe. I somehow managed to eat the legs despite the trauma.

K headed into the city and I hung out with Mr. C for a while watching a backlog of television shows he had DVR'd for us. Eventually, I left the warm bossom of Casa Carpentier and headed home.

I had ambitious plans of getting up super early to work on "Lullabye" which was to be recorded in the studio on Sunday. Instead I overslept, shoved free samples of pumpkin soup and crostini down my gullet as I wearily stumbled through an art fair that had set up camp on my block. I grabbed some coffee and trudged through the park. About halfway to the studio something started filling my head, a new song. By the time I got to the studio I had scrapped all plans of working on lullaby and began laying down the tracks for this mystery song that popped into my head. The working title is Ashes and Dust. It has a very spiritual quality to it and really sounds great and much more developed than such new songs generally do. I wasn't planning on giving birth while crossing the gowanus canal, but stranger things have happened.

After the studio, I headed to Mr Carpentier's for some more backlog of DVR'd television shows as I have been a delinquent social caller and he had been in Italy for a spell.

We were later joined by K and ordered Italian food. As soon as marc put down the phone there arose a clatter outside like none I've heard. I was sure that it was happening. The bombs were falling. Retribution had come. Our arrogant American asses were under attack. I started getting frantic until Marc said that it had to be fireworks. K was on my side saying the sound was too close and too loud to be fireworks. We did the smartest thing possible, which is to run outside and run toward the sound. It was indeed fireworks, being shot from a barge east of lower manhattan down by the seaport. The fireworks were amazing. I cannot properly describe them with words. It was the best fireworks show I've ever seen in my life, beautiful gold ripples and streams across the sky. There were blossoming flowers, starfish, willow trees. They were so close that it was like they were coming right at us and reflecting off the buildings of manhattan, the perfect backdrop. Why the hell were they shooting fireworks on October 14th? Is there some new holliday of which I'm unaware?

All I found on Wikipedia were the following, and none seem firework worthy.

* RC Saints - Pope Callistus I, Angadrisma
* Teachers' Day, or National Education Day in Poland
* French Republican Calendar - Navet (Turnip) Day, twenty-third day in the Month of Vendémiaire
* Chişinău's (Republic of Moldova's capital) - national holiday (known as "Hramul Oraşului" by locals).

Radio Crystal Blue Feature

Dan Herman at Radio Crystal Blue plays a great selection of music from some really talented independent artists and has been extremely supportive of the album.

This Sunday my music will be featured on Radio Crystal Blue
in their Future Stars segment.

Be sure to check it.
This Sunday, October 14th
Starting at 7pm
www.radiocrystalblue.com

Radio Crystal Blue...where the freak flag of freeform internet
radio flies

The Rant Book Club [October]

This month's official selection of the Rant Book Club is

"The End of America"
by Naomi Wolf

Let's all read it and discuss.

Who do I think I am, Oprah?
I haven't read the book. It just sounds like it might be right up my alley.
I am sick of complaining. I want solutions. We must unite. We must organize. Ooh, I sound so revolutionary.

"This Country Does Not Torture"

"This country does not torture," White House press secretary Dana Perino told reporters. "It is a policy of the United States that we do not torture and we do not."

Oh Really? Tell that to the prisoners at Abu Ghraib...
I'm sure they'll back up this statement from the Whitehouse.

Tell that to the People being held in Cuba without any right to legal council or due process.

Does the whitehouse really believe that we are that stupid? I have not forgotten the images of Abu Ghraib. I do not believe the statements of an administration that used the tragedy of 9/11 to justify thousands of deaths and the illegal wiretapping of its own citizens. If there has ever been a president who needed to be impeached just for the preservation of this country, it is George Bush. This statement from the Whitehouse angers me. It is a flat out lie. I am sick of being lied to by this administration.

Homopod's Top 20

Recently Homopod Radio did a Top 20 for the Year,
voted by listeners.
I am pleased to announce that Open Wide came in at #3 on their countdown.

Hop on over to Homopod Radio and
Listen to the whole Show.

The Siren and The Sailor (Cycle 1-Part 1)...

Photo by Carrie Thomas

The Siren

Once upon a time, not that long ago, there lived a musical merman who lived on a forgotten Island. The merman spent most of his time staring out at the sea, soaking in the sun and watching the passing ships.

Though the merman was not a real siren like the ones in Greek, mythology, he was possessed of a voice that seemed to hypnotize the sailors and pull them often to their untimely death against the rocks. Though the siren's song was beautiful, it was drenched in a sadness that also consumed the merman.

Though there were mermaids who lived on the Island, the merman felt out of place and alone. He would raise his voice in song at the sight of every distant ship hoping that his true love would hear the song, and stear his vessel safely to the shore without hitting the rocks. Sadly, the shore where the merman sang was littered with trinkets, bits of wood and shattered things that once belonged to many a doomed sailor,

The Fishnet Sailor

until one day a handome sailor returning home from a long long voyage heard the merman's sad song and began to change course.



(To Be Continued)

OutVoice Top 40

I want to give a thanks and Shout"Out" to Rainbow World Radio and
The OutVoice Top 40.

Sirens of Brooklyn has been on the chart for the last 10 months! Yay!
It is currently #25.
The chart is based on listener voting.

Kitt & Kaboodle- Paper Bag