Gothic Angst Webzine Reviews Vexations Volume 5

Mill Avenue Vexations Volume 5 has gotten a review on a goth webzine. Blogged also today on the Vexations blog. Volume 5: Drum Circle is one of my favorite volumes! It represents the first time I've been able to get a full color cover and it also has special editions released to give me money to get more full color covers.

Drum Circle also includes direct culture from the Ave, the drum circle, the street preachers, and other elements that just keep me coming back. It gives me a chance to display the strange interaction between the various groups. Take a gander at the blog post and Gothic Angst. Thanks!

The literary reviewer, H. M. Garber of goth e-zine Gothic Angst, has published a review of Volume Five from Mill Avenue Vexations. People should trot on over there and check it out.

Gothic Angst 'Zine Review of Volume 4

Mill Avenue Vexations Volume 4 has gotten a review on a goth webzine. Blogged also today on the Vexations blog.

Volume 4 is full of portents and strangeness foretelling the doom coming to Phoenix. Things have been going down that are a little more on the eerie side, the drought continues, and the heat is still rising. Vex is still trying to pin down clues and strange events that she's been a part of and thing plot drives forward like a taxi to its destination.

The literary reviewer, H. M. Garber of goth e-zine Gothic Angst, has published a review of Volume Four from Mill Avenue Vexations. People should trot on over there and check it out.

Party on Mill Ave this Saturday

Party on Mill Ave, Saturday! Marauders assemble!

Since this is the last day that I will be able to go out to Mill, I am going to be there will bells on. Take this literally. Bells. (Okay, maybe not bells.) The marauders have gotten themselves actual straight-up amplification, music, videos, and other interesting things.

There will also be a small number of signed books for anyone who wants one. Just ask.

YOU. ME.
MILL AVENUE.
8pm - 11pm.
Be there.

Overkill much?

Did up a little Demotivator-style poster for the hell of it. Having Vex Harrow on one of these is always fun and so far people seem to really like it.

Pass it around.

Mill Avenue Nights: Saturday, April 5th 2008

This Saturday was freaking amazing!

I will have to break this apart into various sub-segments outlining my anthropological research and the Mill Ave Marauders (the atheists, as I’ll call them) and other weird events.

First, I’d like to start with a pre-announcement for Volume 8 of Mill Avenue Vexations: The Rule of Lwa which was released on Saturday, but not fully announced. Take a click and gaze upon the gorgeous artwork. Also, if thou want a copy, they’re available until the 19^th of April out here on the Ave.

EXTREMELY PROPHETIC

Fredd took over writing the sign because Kazz happened to fail rather badly at writing things like, “THERE ARE NO GODS” on the sign. Intermittently, people did pause to see what was being written on the whiteboard, but few actually paused to say anything. Then, out of the blue, a small group paused and Kazz distractedly handed one of them one of his tracts.

Gazing at the man from the boots up (blue jeans over brown boots) I noticed suddenly that he had a belt buckle that was Jesus. And by Jesus, I mean clasp metal, arms extended, gloriole surrounding his head, belt-buckle-of-certain-doom. This was a savior-belt. Next: bright yellow jacket – and, sure enough, the words “Jesus Freak” emblazoned in bold bumble-bee black across the breast. And me, staring on in awe.

Oh wow, I thought, this is going to be an interesting reaction. Just about when Kazz noticed him and stood up.

I hovered around for a little while to get as many notes as I could. It seems that this group hit Mill after going to a conference for Evangelicals where they had learned to hear the “voice of god.” They are a sect punctuated by the belief that they can prophesize things—like vaguely guessing the health conditions of individuals who have obvious signs of them. The group is called “Extremely Prophetic Ministry.”

I spent a little while talking to a Dutch fellow in their group. A transplant from Miami, Florida where he spent his days making hundreds of thousands of dollars a week as a male model. Between quick-talk and sporadic gesticulations he told me all about sleeping with hundreds of women, making beaucoup bucks, slotting 8-balls, and generally living the high-“high”-life. Unfortunately for him, he’s one of those people who likes to bring up the etymology of every word. And he ran into an anthropological linguist.

No. Harder alcohols are not called spirits because they cause people to act crazily and the argument of this origin is hardly compelling because – non-spirit alcohols have the same effect, furthermore a multitude of other substances that also cause inebriation are not called spirits. Alcohols which are called spirits are the distilled alcohols, which, by the way distillations of other substances are also called spirits. There are multiple possible origins, mostly alchemical. (1) They’re called spirits because distillation is a process by which the essence of a product is left behind (i.e. the alcohol) and (2) they’re called spirits because spirit etymologically comes from a word that means “breath” and distillation is a process of vaporization.

“Did you know that craft means to twist.” (I made the mistake of saying that Vexations was about witchcraft.) Well, no, it doesn’t. Literally craft means “skill.” And etymologically it also meant skill. Yes, a definition for “craft” in the dictionary does involve lying. Of course, someone who is good at lying would be skilled at it, thus the usage of “crafty.” This is not the intrinsic definition.

“Do you know what witch comes from?” Yes. It comes from a German word that meant wizard. Witchcraft, etymologically, would just refer to a skill in wizardry. Yes, I saw what you were trying to do there.

I offered him a book. He gave it back, saying, “He didn’t want to have to read it.”

I guess he was a bit broadly outside my audience anyway.

MARAUDERS

We lacked some of our larger players like Todd and Ben, but we did have Kevin, Punk Rock Atheist, Kazz, Fredd, Omar, Jim, and a few additional situational players joining the Marauders.

During the whole circus that erupted – between the Extremely Prophetic people – some discussion did get had. Mostly Omar with his bullhorn turning up the volume on the one-voice of the preachers and adding his own important insights.

We did end up wandering down to Denny’s where we tucked ourselves into a table and blustered bawdy delights about the dimming night.

I haven’t talked to the people who run Urban Outfitters but it realize that they tolerate a lot with these groups setting up on the sidewalk corner outside. The crowds that gather are a nuisance to say the least and certainly noisy. Although they try hard not to block the entrance, there have been times that some have come to ask that people move.

THE DRUM CIRCLE

Sparse. I did get to see Osiris, but he wasn’t at the circle when I did. A few people took booklets – sadly, I did find three left behind when they moved along which means that a lot of people forgot them. Ah well, it is a danger of the type of advertising that I do when I hand them out. We’ll see if anyone else is interested next weekend while I get more passed out the more willing crowds.

Internet Griefers Cause Misery on Epilepsy Site

Now on wired.com

http://www.wired.com/politics/security/news/2008/03/epilepsy

The picture is of someone extremely special to me, and she has epilepsy. The salient and important facts of this matter are that forums and products on the Internet that cater to epileptic people should really take precautions that these sorts of events cannot occur so readily. There are more boards out there.

Also, these people who did this aren't just cretinous brats, they're flaming twits whom with I will not be sympathetic if they get caught and charged with assault and intent to cause harm.

Release of Mill Avenue Vexations Cranes

It's that time again! Another booklet has been published by Mill Avenue Vexations. This time something to cool the hearts of everyone who has been staring up at the now-constructing Centerpointe Towers and wondering what's going to happen to La Casa Vieja.

Condominums crop up like weeds, sprouting broad leaves among the wildflowers of Mill Ave and we're left staring upwards into the dark at the glitter of red lights on the cranes. Is this type of development the lifeblood of progress or the bêtise of our community?

I will be carrying at least 25 copies with me on Mill Avenue tomorrow night (Saturday, March 15th). Expect them. So, if you're out in the night wandering the Ave – I am pointing at thee, Jess – come and get one.

Technorati tags: mill avenue vexations, vex harrow, kyt dotson, construction, development, mill ave, mill avenue

Mill Avenue Nights: Saturday, March 9th - Marauding on Mill Ave

We had a lot of fun out there on Mill tonight.

But, to begin this story, I have to hearken back to the entire week that I spent on ASU campus. The most I’ve spent there in the past few years since I’ve started splitting my time between Michigan and Arizona. I don’t take classes there right now, but I wish that I still was, I love the academic atmosphere and I still have a lot of distance to go honing my discipline at English. Perhaps it’s time for me to actually put real time into studying the ancient masters.

This week on ASU I went to watch and study Brother Jed: a scary, fearmongering evangelical preacher who moves nomadically from campus to campus inciting anger and mockery with his abrasive, vitriolic campaign for the doctrine of his god, Jesus Christ. Of course, being the creature that I am, I brought with me a posse of atheists (mostly because one of them is who gives me rides places) and gleefully snowballed every theater major and interesting person that I could to help add to the carnival atmosphere of his visit – if for no other reason than to increase my own enjoyment or perhaps to make him more palatable while I sat.

News of this event was posted to the Mill Avenue Vexations news blog.

Mill last night certainly was a circus. I didn’t stay long to play with the preachers any more than usual, because I’m not out there to engage in the rabble with them – I’m there to study their effect on Mill Ave and I’d like to know them as people. Of course, the group gathered through the presence of Brother Jed also came.

Omar and his bullhorn created a lot of loud repartee. I got some notes on the subject, but was repeatedly forced to flee from the volume and the noise. Fortunately, there are numerous other regions of the Ave that interest me and need attention.

So, to escape the new confusion, I repaired to the drum circle, where I ended up settling to see people like Amish, Josh, Osiris, and others. A new group has been showing up on Mill of a few young people who named themselves after the Seven Deadly Sins and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Of course, there are less than seven of them so they happen to share names between the two groups from what I discovered – since I met, and chatted with Envy / Horseman Death for a little while.

I think that I’m going to be avoiding the preachers from now on; the rasping fête that is generated between the two groups is a little too much for me. Kazz and the troupe of atheists have them rather roughly handled, I think, and the dialogue there I am sure that I can study through their fliers and interviews will be more than enough.

There also have been some rumblings of potentially setting up a live debate between the two groups. I will probably attend that.

Here’s an excerpt from my notes from last night:

“The armies are marshalling, building on both sides. Handshakes and cordial greetings light up their faces—they prepare to take their places. The theists bow their heads in prayer and the atheists stand up proud. Voices are waiting in expectation and the thunder is gathering in watchful gazes.”

And to wrap it all up: one of the street preachers gave me a rose—which now lies on my desk right now.

I love roses.

Those Were the Days closing its doors

As many may know by now, Those Were The Days, antique bookstore on Mill Ave, is closing its doors forever.

I haven't had a chance to gather much information on them, nor prepare content to reflect their memory, but I will try to do so as soon as I can. I cannot get out to Mill but Saturdays and recent events have rather gotten up my nose with a vengence.

I will be carrying a camera at the Ave this come Saturday to get images of various aspects that I want in a comic book that I'm probably going to title: "Lost Mill Ave." A script is already written, but I don't know if I will include Those Were The Days or not.

As always, expect me between 9 p.m. and midnight. Camera, notebook, and shy smile.

Before I save tomorrow, I will record the past.

Mill Avenue Vexations Teaser Trailer

Teaser trailer for Mill Avenue Vexations using various covers and thus imagery of Vex Harrow. This is my first ever attempt at making a video file, there are some lovely (and strange) video editing junk out there and the one I used was extremely common.

I am thinking of doing some small bits on various elements of Mill Ave, so that once they're gone we have something to remember.

Release of Mill Avenue Vexations Volume 7 tomorrow

A pre-announcement on the release of Mill Avenue Vexations Volume 7 Doom in the Distance for tomorrow. I will be out on Mill probably between the hours of 9pm and 12am midnight passing them out. I have a batch of 50, but I will probably not carry quite that many with me.

For those looking for me, I tend between the street preachers in front of Urban Outfitters (or the post office), the Mill Ave drum circle, and Graffiti Shop. I will be wearing an outfit of Concost whites instead of my usual Whisper black garb in respect of Emmanuel's death earlier this week—since this is my people's mourning color. It should make me a bit more obvious than usual. Sadly, I do not have a white hat or gloves, so that'll be a little bit of a strange juxtaposition.

Below is a teaser of the cover for who might be interested.

 

Technorati tags: mill avenue vexations, vexations, kyt dotson, volume, mill ave

Requiescat In Pace, Emmanuel

I write this after I've learned that my friend, Emmanuel, has died. It is likely that few of my friends here know him, but I am recording my speech here nonetheless, lest my memory of him ever be forgotten. Those who read my blog will know of him as someone whose company I enjoyed greatly during outings to see the Street Preachers on the Ave.

Caidil e caidil e 's dhiot gach bron, Emmanuel.

Sleep, oh sleep without sorrow, Emmanuel.

- - -

It's not often that I have the need to write biographical speeches…and less so about someone that I cared about, found smiling in the Saturday Mill Ave lights, and now won't see there again.

So say "I barely knew you" rings hollow for anyone who likely knew him a lot longer, and a lot better than I. But here is my experience. 

As a person, Emmanuel was a welcome sight. Quick witted, truthful to his core, cheerful and thoughtful about his speech, his composure added something dramatic and driven to our little gatherings. Easy laughter and jocularity became the hallmark of his conversation and he used them often to soften the edge of his keen, curious intellect.

But the one thing that he left with the most of us – and what anyone who has spent time will them will carry away – is the warmth of his compassion and the comfort his company brought. 

Writing a speech like this is all about saying what perhaps doesn't need to be said, because everyone is already thinking it. I ask for everyone's indulgence by closing with what doesn't need to be said, because everyone listening already has it written on their hearts:

"Emmanuel, you will be missed." 

Kyt Dotson

Mill Avenue Nights, January 12th 2008

Strange weekend.

The street preachers moved from in front of Urban Outfitters to in front of the post office. In the past, this has actually been one of the places that other preachers would show up—the guys with the huge wooden cross. I haven’t seen them in a while. Of course, the Way of the Master folks can cheerfully take over that spot, it’s a good place for them. It appears they were displaced by a young man with an amp and a guitar.

A lot of interesting stuff happened tonight, so I’m going to try to cover it point by point again, but hopefully without losing to many people.

“Why don’t you atheists get your own corner?”

Kazz tells me that Lynda said this to someone in the crew. I’m pleased-as-punch, even if I am not atheist I still am filled up with joy about the dialogue that they’ve started with the preachers. It’s not about the disturbance that they create on the Ave—and the new presence of better hecklers and more disciplined dissenters is just a sign of that dissonance being noticed—it’s about the people that get brought up in the churn.

The preachers have been the only voice on their various corners for way too long. Here I’d say that they’ve gone unopposed for too long, but this isn’t exactly truthful. It creates a false sense of dichotomy, as if the street preachers are one of two voices, when they’re really one of millions and, in spite of the etymology of the word dialogue, there can be more than two parties involved.

The best part about the disruption that the street preachers create on the Ave is that the theater of the discussion between their amp and the newly added bullhorn creates an actual discourse. It requires the person with the amp (tonight it was Jeremiah again) to actually respond to the person with the bullhorn and it forces them to be part of the dialogue. They still tend to ignore a lot of questions in that slippery showman fashion, but at least it’s forging an actual forum rather than an ad hoc lecture.

But, really, what brings a smile to my lips happens behind the scenes, after the curtains fall. At about 11p.m. the preachers fold up and prance off, vanishing into the vehicles that brought them to the Ave (or they tuck into Starbucks for a while.) Without their mike and amp they become more personable, more like people; hecklers and preachers end up mingling and speaking to one another about personal lives, thoughts and ephemeral cheer. Very little animosity remains in the air, hands shake, and rivals take on a different level of discussion.

When the machine dismantles the components aren’t as hot-and-heavy anymore. At least then they’re people—which is what I come to the Ave for, after all, not for the moralizing lectures and sanctimonious priggery, but instead the reality of people and the wonder that is the story of their lives.

Where do good books come from, after all, but the humanity and the storytelling that binds life together.

This section is shorter than usual today because of…

Fred

Fred is the best thing about the night. She’s a tiny, slip of an emo chick, double-breasted black vest with a white “broken” heart, and raven-haired bowl cut—but the best part about her (aside form her gorgeous, giant spectacles of awesome) was the fact that when our eyes first met, and she smiled: I saw fangs.

Vampire fangs!

Nothing is going to catch my attention instantly than someone actually going out with a pair of acrylic appliqué fangs. The lovely thing about Goths who go with the fang look (or even emo) is that they can be kept as a subtle affect. If the person knows how to wear them, doesn’t spend their time drawing attention to them, normal conversation becomes a whole different experience. There’s no feeling quite like holding a giggling, grinning hanging-in-the-wind discussion with the leery looks of people making double-takes as they walk past.

Needless to say, I instantly delivered as many copies of Vexations into her hands as I possibly could. What can I say? There aren’t that many other Goths hanging around, and Emo are the new Goth as far as I’m concerned.

To say the least, I spent the three hours I should have been paying attention to the preachers and Mill instead paying attention to Fred. (Don’t worry about me, my research is fine. I did take a great deal of demographic notes and I’ve still got enough piled up from other nights to make up for a lapse. Why can’t I have fun some nights on Mill?)

She’s a chemical engineering major at ASU (a place that I wish that I was still a student at most days) and draws her own comic series. I cannot wait until she appears on DeviantART like she suggested she would. She even drew us some of her characters, who are interestingly thin figures similar to Johnen Vasquez’s Johnny the Homicidal Maniac. Just with a particularly straight-line-style emo flare. Also, her comix appear to feature a manic-depressive, suicidal vampire who just cannot seem to manage to kill himself (stakes don’t work, walking outside in the sun simply gives him a charbroiled sunburn, hanging fixes out-of-alignment vertebrae—some of which he received trying to run himself over with a truck…)

We managed a long talk about what it’s like living in Fountain Hills as a teen and why that’s a terrible experience for anyone. I certainly wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

She also managed to get herself booted from Bath and Bodyworks. Something about not buying anything and staring at other customers. This rather dampened our spirits later in the night when we decided that we were going to start an ad hoc coven right there in front of the street preachers (but for a lack of candles, which would have required braving B&B again…)

C’est la vie.

Cheers to another beautiful night on the Ave, and another day spent daydreaming and writing.

Psst. For those who want to know. Volume 7 is out of post-edit and is taking the finishing touches of artwork. So that’ll be appearing sooner rather than later.

Coyote Sightings

The sightings of coyotes this winter have been way up from normal. Over the past few weeks I've heard numerous reports from different people in the North Phoenix area that coyotes have been seen. I am fairly certain there has been more than one animal.

In fact, the sightings have been raised to the level of people posting on Craigslist.

Kazz, in fact, while he was walking the dogs spotted a coyote rambling through the streets of our little neighborhood. Of course, it abuts a region of actual desert here on the hard edge of the city, so that doesn't surprise me that much.

I believe that someone even rumored that one coyote had been seen near the fake lake in Tempe. Something that I'd already posited happening long ago.

Holiday Recovery

I'm still here. Really.

The last two Saturdays were indeed spent on the Ave, in my usual spot, offering up booklets to all onlookers and passersby. Notes are harder to come by because my fingers hurt.

I just haven't had a moment to retell the events of those days, which I will hopefully be getting on to when I have a chance. (And they'll be back dated after a week or so of letting them ride free on the blog.)

Gone is my Santa cap, which I wear primarily for Yuletide, and if I can only get my paws on a black fedora again, I'll be happy. Maybe I'll break tradition and wear a red fedora just to stand out (yes, a red hat on an all-black outfit, I should be obvious.) Nay, nay, I think what may end up happening is I'll end up with a tricorne pirate hat next round...

This is because Kazz wants to treat the street preachers to some good, loving noodly appendaged Flying Spaghetti Monster loving. And I have a "Kiss Me I'm a Pirate" t-shirt. So, apparently, I've been conscripted to be the cute-adorable-alternative to Kazz's usual brusque militant silhouette...

We'll see how that goes. I'm sure.

Mill Avenue Nights, December 15th 2007

It was cold.

I took the bus.

These two sentences do not actually have a causal relationship; they just accurately frame the beginning of this Saturday’s Mill Ave visit. I am not complaining—not loudly at least—but I think that I could see my breath. The chill in the air, I’m afraid, meant that I didn’t have much of a chance to use my pen and paper to scrawl down notes so I am working primarily from my own diligent memory.

After wandering the length and breadth of my beloved Ave, I finally settled around the drum circle where a girl (whose name escapes me) was selling tie-dye shirts. “Shirts make good Christmas presents; good presents make good friends!”

After spending some time with them, I made my way down to see Lawrence at the Graffiti Shop and to meet the author of the SociallyACCEPTABLE magazine. I had picked one up at Graffiti the weekend before and read it from front to back. The entire format is highly independent press, and they were offering advertising, so I figured, what the hell.

I ended up walking him down to where the drum circle usually takes place in order to show him where it happens.

Drum circle felt extremely sparse tonight. In fact, it was extremely sparse. I didn’t see half of the people that I normally see. I did hand out a great deal of booklets, and left three at Graffiti, I also have prints of Merry Vexing Christmas to hand out, which is only proper.

This finally brings us, of course, to the street preachers.

Today I lacked Kazz. Which means that I got to stand around and observe them in their “natural” element with little disturbance – oddly, Emanuel also didn’t show. Well, perhaps this is not that odd as he’s a college student at ASU and this is the dreaded Finals week, or, for those far more lucky: time to run away, run away home. (Like the ladybug.) Instead! Tonight the arrival of two new interesting parties caught my attention. People with bullhorn!

Yes, only one bullhorn, but two people.

Which proved to be fairly interesting because the preachers use a loudspeaker and a microphone and a bullhorn provides more than enough volume to counteract the “he who speaks the loudest is correct” atmosphere that crowd address produces. The real fun didn’t actually start until the preachers finally left for the evening (about 11p.m., which is boring because it leaves me with a few hours of no entertainment… No, I’m exaggerating. I usually just go back to the drum circle and sit next to one of my friends and listen to stories at that point.)

Tonight, however, the two young men with the bullhorn remained and decided to make up their own impromptu street preacher routine. Which included interesting statements. “The Church is not for you. Go somewhere else.” “God loves women, especially lesbians.” Among other equally amusing one liners directed at passersby and generally mocking the entire purpose of standing on a street corner with a bullhorn.

The drum circle, despite being sparse, did have some interesting characters. The number of rail jumpers has increased dramatically over the past few weeks, so I’ve been listening to people discuss what trains to catch, where, and how. Fingers pointed, limbs gesticulating. You can take a train headed east out of the train jungle over there and it’ll take you to Tucson and then eventually to San Francisco! I have received some promises from stories from street rats I have yet to know well.

Also, news of Helena, who is a sprightly lass that I met last winter—rather young, but extremely cute—who listened raptly with a charismatic smile (and I’d hoped to see her again this winter.) She was a little social butterfly and, as far as I could see, an excellent influence on everyone. I suppose that I enjoy her presence in no small part because she liked me. There is always something to be said about how much simple admiration can change an impression. (“Yeah, she really talked about you a lot.”) This all makes the news about her a little bit more dreadful.

Apparently, she’s ended up in a mental institution. Way back in either Alabama or Kentucky. That’s ominous news, she didn’t seem crazy to me…and being someone who spends a great deal of time on Mill, with a little experience of psychology, crazy is a little bit obvious. Of course, she is a street rat of indeterminate age…and I had my suspicions.

Sad. I need more perky, good listeners with interesting stories to talk to.

Next week I may not be able to make it out to Mill on Saturday. If I’m lucky, I’ll be there on Friday.

As always, keep an eye out for Vexations booklets in The Graffiti Shop!

And, well, when I’m on Mill all eyes on me. And stories, more stories.

Taglines

I just came up with another tagline for Vexations, tell me what you think:

Burning rubber where angels fear to tread.

And a poem:

Through the dry desert, across the painted sky; / Past the Mogollon forest, and under Coyote's watchful eye; / to Grandmother Spider's house we go!

Mill Avenue Nights, Saturday December 8th 2007

I am becoming cheerful of Emanuel’s company on Saturday’s when Kazz and he wait out their time amongst the street preachers. He’s intelligent, charming, and reflects a humor that I’ve seen lost on many people in my life. I think that I am extremely glad that Kazz met him. Of course, this extends the circle of atheists that I keep in my midst, so I think that this will create no shortfall of adventure in discussion on religion.

This Saturday, once again, felt cold to my bones, but it wasn’t as terrible as could have been expected—rain was forecast, a rain that did not crash down on us as we stood among the crowds of Mill. Sadly, we also arrived extremely late, which cut severely into my ability to peck out my usual haunts and check on the welfare of my charges…

The drum circle populated lightly and none of the usual haunts shook out many people to see, however, I did come bearing gifts: the preview release of Vexations Volume 6: Writing on the Wall (artwork visible after link).

I did get a couple booklets handed out, including one for Lawrence at the Graffiti Shop, because he’s special to me. Although, in retrospect, I probably should have remembered to sign it for him.

Interesting measures: I have come into possession of the response-tract to Kazz’s GOD LOVES SLAVERY tract. I have added it to my folder of tracts from Mill Ave, and I am going to include a timeline so that I can track this dialogue. To further that same dialogue, Kazz has produced another tract which develops the history of Christmas and its reflections in the Christian Bible. This time, he printed it in full, blazing color with a green Christmas tree on the front, and other colorful elements.

I wonder what the reply to that shall bring.

The street preachers seem a bit strained by our presence, I’ve noticed. They have started to speak out against Kazz’s tracts—telling people directly that they shouldn’t read his writing, “he’s a devil, [Emanuel,] you wouldn’t listen to a lying devil would you?” and such things as “throw that away, it’s not the truth.” To be pointed, this was all David speaking these words. When I was showing off Vexations and the Seasons works he refused to look at them—all the better, I fear that they would insult his sensibilities, which is why I don’t often offer my work to the preachers. They’re not exactly my audience.

Tension mounts, but I have my notepad and my camera.

 

Technorati tags: mill ave, mill avenue, preachers, vexations, atheism, christmas

Mill Avenue Nights, Saturday December 1st 2007

Tonight’s little narrative will start with our arrival at the Ave, which was slowed up slightly by discovering that people had noticed our little hidey-hole of a parking structure (no, I’m not telling where.) Kazz was forced to drive his brick-red SUV up an extra level to find a space—which caused some amusement when we returned at 2a.m., the place was mostly empty, and the vehicle wasn’t to be seen in our usual parking space.

The rainfall earlier in the day left a wet scrim of puddles and moisture on the sidewalks and buildings, but the best part about tonight was the closure of Mill Ave to motor traffic. It isn’t every day that a person can safely visit the circle of bricks in the middle of 5^th and Mill without being run down by a drunkenly driven bimbo-box. Today the shells of white tarp form the tents from the Art Fair. Which, I am told my the news, would not turtle itself due to the thunderstorm that rolled through that weekend.

The cold is into the mid 50s and just chilly enough to make my fingers ache as I clutch my Witch Hunter Robin messenger bag, the volumes sliding through numb fingers as I proffer them to attractive passersby.

Drum Circle

It took it a while to actually start up, to the point where the drum circle really only barely found its jive by the time we vacated the park in order avoid the baleful eye of the TPD and others. As always, it reformed out in front of the post office with the “No Loitering” sign sighing and drinking coffee bought from Starbucks across the street.

At one point during the evening Remy and a gaggle of other Mill rats stumbled past a warning on his lips, “A friend of mine – in with the cops – came and warned me that they were going to sweep through there, so be careful and don’t attract attention. Not that you usually do.”

So, of course, Kazz, Emanuel, and I went down to drum circle so that I could report on the cops “sweeping through” and catching people who attracted attention. We waited almost an hour (up until midnight exodus) and were met with a disappointing anticlimax. No cops. No sweep. Nothing so much as a peep of activity for my pen to eviscerate.

The Demographics of a Football Game Night

ASU vs. UofA? I don’t know. Football really doesn’t spin my wheels, but the people who crowd to these games do. So, after the finale of spattered fireworks lit up our eyes and deafened our ears, the Sun Devil stadium’s vomitoriums sluiced forth their spillage of humanity onto the shores of Mill Ave.

Mostly college age folks and some in their thirties take task to the Ave and wander past cheering together. Motley bunches of brightly plumed costumes (the maroon and gold prominent on sweaters) cheering and jeering their favorite team names. A fight even broke out near the preachers—the police intervened and it ended without much incident. Later on we saw a pack of TEAM leading an irate woman away from the area of Tempe City Hall (the upside-down pyramid.)

Street Preachers

An event that almost every social anthropologist watches for happened tonight with the street preachers—I discovered a cultural dialogue happening! This story starts during the previous Saturday (one that I neglected to properly blog.)

Kazz decided to take his atheist mores and approach the people talking to the street preachers with better and more defensible tracts than he did before. After poring over numerous documents he developed a quote-by-quote rendering of the King James Version Bible that directly supported the premise – and gloating title of the tract – “GOD LOVES SLAVERY.”

Once again, I let this develop on its own. Kazz and Emanuel passed out these tracts to passersby and even the preachers (one of whom, David, I believe, commented, “I want to read these lies for myself.”) This night he approached me with questions such as, “You didn’t read those did you? They’re perverting the Truth.” I have some qualms about this sort of attitude that I’ll get into later, now onto the dialogue.

One of the preachers—whose name I do not know—printed up some triple-length-fold-overhand tracts with a cute little ASCII cross and some equally ASCII art Jesus fish stating: “The Bible does condemn slavery.” In one week, these were written, produced, and printed in response to Kazz’s tracts! They are a new work. They attempt to speak to the direct KJV quotes from Kazz’s SLAVERY tracts. However, they also seem to ramble off into weird directions such as talking about Muslim slavery and then finally stagger into dark territory with the Flying Spaghetti Monster.

To document this dialogue fully I will have to get copies of both of these tracts and get them scanned in (and, I hope, permission to post them.) The real warp and weft of communities and cliques is visible where they rub up against each other, this is a brilliant example of one of those evanescent events. My next mission will be to talk to the originator of the counter-tract and get his take on the production of his reply and why he decided to go that route.

As I promised, my thoughts on “perverting the Truth.” Yes, Truth with a capital ‘T’. Why? Because when one of these people says the word they mean absolute, incontrovertible veracity in a supernatural sense Truth. And, of course, he’s referring to the dogmatic Christian Bible and the direct quotes from KJV that Kazz reflected in his SLAVERY tract. I looked at his straight and said,

“My people don’t hold up your Bible as a credible source. So, no, I don’t believe those quoted scriptures. Yes, I did read it. And, doesn’t it make you feel a little bit queasy that you have a supposed Truth that can be ‘perverted’ by directly quoting it?” This brings me distinctly, in fact, to one of my favorite dogmatic cop-outs that is designed to cover this exact eventuality (someone else using the Bible to disagree with you.

“The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.”

This quote is scintillating in its sheer insidiousness; easily comparing a detractor, who, quoting directly from the same holy book as they, to the personification of all evil—that Adversary of YHVH (or more properly humanity, being that Satan is supposedly prosecuting counsel in a celestial court...) But, in all its elegance it reflects a thunderously worrisome fact: not only can the devil quote it for his own purpose, people can too! It’s one thing when a supernatural power, quintessential to the very inner-workings of morality can warp the Truth into verisimilitude (being that it’s a supernatural Truth after all) but it’s totally another when the mundane, feeble mortals who toil beneath the benevolent gaze of the Lord can do exactly the same thing.

What kind of a moral authority is this that can be so easily turned against itself without even the supernatural leverage of a super-being?

I don’t quite know the answer but it concerns me greatly. The best way to knock down this behavior, of course, still remains critically examining even this holy book, not as the Truth, but as an ancillary tradition that reflects the history of the Christian people. And by this day and age it’s an ancient history. One that updates poorly to contemporary values because when treated as a Truth (including the reprehensible commands and laws from the Old Testament) practitioners are barred from modifying—and sometimes rationally thinking about—how this affects their daily lives and the lives of others.

“Don’t stop thinking.” Kazz’s tracts end. They may be dark criticism of extremely bad attitudes promulgated by ancient bigotry enshrined forever in a holy book, but the conclusion is still the important seed to take away. It’s not his job to give you something better; it’s your job not to do or facilitate evil.

Think about it is sound advice.

Technorati tags: mill ave, mill avenue, preachers, asu, football, game night

Hello Cory: Fan fiction and remix culture

I don't even know how to preface this...

HOLY CRAP!

So, I decided to get over being timid and send in my story, Hello Cory, to Cory Doctorow at Boing Boing and he put a link to it up on his blog.

Then, today I get in from going out to Mill, and check to see if anyone has commented -- and it seems that someone has made an mp3 of it!

I am really tired and wiped out from my Mill visitation and I normally don't post this late, but my thanks goes out to Paul Parkinson for adapting the story for audio...

(Suddenly I wish that I had edited it better.)

More power to Creative Commons.

So happy.

Goodnight folks. Adieu and have wonderful dreams.