fjb, local currency: solo 1992-1998 (fayettenam)

the human hearts, civics (tight ship)

the human hearts on myspace

nothing painted blue, taste the flavor (shrimper)

info on older band and solo work; I have no idea who compiled the scarily complete discographies


the fate of the diaristic

"The only thing we have words for are appearances."
-- Rod Smith, Leslie Scalapino panel, Poetry Project, 11/11

"History doesn't happen to animals."
-- Rodrigo Toscano, same

Thought something interesting might come out of seeing Borat (2006, Larry Charles) and Zidane, un portrait du 21e siecle (2006, Douglas Gordon and Phillippe Parreno) on the same day, but the NY premiere of the latter (at MoMa) was sold out well in advance. Also missed, on account of various conflicts, Rivettes I may never see in Queens.

"You do not need emotions if you order the Song In Your Head service."
--Heriberto Yepez, "A Brochure on Futureless Science Fiction Poetics," The Recluse 2

"An unusual person founded the New Town movement."
-- Martha E. Munzer and John Vogel Jr., New Towns: Building Cities From Scratch

Lucille Ball: "You know what I always say?"
Allan Lane: "No."
Lucille Ball: "That's right."
-- Panama Lady (1939, Jack Hively)

Nicely Nicely (Eugene Palette): "A fat guy's always listenin' to a lot of stories, but he ain't ever got any to tell."
-- The Big Street (1942, Irving Reis)

Attempted to walk across Central Park to vicinity of the Whitney, managed to turn myself around and end up on the same side I'd started on, just five blocks down. Gave up on the derive, took a cab, perused the Albers/Moholy-Nagy and Kiki Smith shows.

"A pony has a phone."
-- Jacqueline Waters, "A Ploy," Zinc Bar 11/13

"Lame as fast words."
-- Laura Mullen, Murmur book party, Teachers & Writers, 11/14)

"No one knows what the city of the future will look like."
-- translated (and possibly slightly paraphrased) subtitle, Two or Three Things I Know About Her (Jean-Luc Godard, 1966)

Sighted Robyn Hitchcock (checked shirt clinching i.d.) after midnight in Westside Market, B'way near 76th. Didn't see what he was buying. Fairly certain I saw Cyndi Lauper a day or two later, leaving a car park three blocks further north. Looked grim, trailed by (I'm guessing) husband and child.

"Despite a lot of literature which promises clarity on the future, none of us can really see or know what the future will bring or what will be the future of cities."
-- Holger Magel, "About the Future of Cities," The Future of Cities, United Nations Human Settlements Programme, 2003

MoMa, again: the snakes of color in Brice Marden's newest paintings strongly resemble one particular Moholy-Nagy, of which I was not allowed to take a picture. It looks to me as though Marden substitutes an illusionism of mobility for one of depth; all told, I was more taken with "Eye On Europe," a wide-ranging exhibition of multiples and ephemera that inclued a modest selection of Ian Hamilton Finlay cardworks. Finally remembered to remember the name (Gerald Murphy) of the painter of Wasp and Pear, stuck in a hallway and noted with pleasure every time I pass it; discovered that John Latta (no permalink; scroll down to Nov. 15) had posted on him just days before.

"Spools in the airport's slot/machine painted solid black."
-- Johanna Furman, "How Jejune Is This Apocalypse, Hon?" Ugh Ugh Ocean

Bree reports that, a few days before my return, she was approached by another Scientologist (we think) asking about her reading habits, somewhere in the Valley. Said she didn't read fiction at all, which was true and ended the conversation.

"Fucking leaves everything in place."
-- Maggie Nelson, "Bluette," The Smell, 11/18

"willing to die for a great last line"
-- Geoffrey Young, "Grail Fabric," Fickle Sonnets