Showing posts with label Art Walk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Art Walk. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

How to Get Shit Done

Forget your past and do not fear your future; do not worry about your health or what your environment thinks of you; consume as little as possible while feeling overweight. Do not listen to authorities who slander your name; wake up and act on your first thought every day. Sing the songs you hear in your head.

Perseverance

Perseverance from Andy Riverbed on Vimeo.

That night, Rilly slept on an inflated mattress.

Becoming Famous

Riverbed and Rily both won free copies of Chris Killen's upcoming debut novel, the Bird Room. It's gotten a lot of praise; you can check out the career-changing video (for Rily and Riverbed) HERE.

If someone emails andy.riverbed (at) yahoo.com with the two verses that belong, respectively, to Rily and Riverbed, then they'll send that person some free stuff too, and then they'll make a video of it and eventually that'll be posted up, and that person who wins could possibly become a tad bit more famous; and if not, that person could make their own video and have it posted on the next Manual update, and not only will their name become a tad bit more famous, but maybe even their face and body.

So do that, or something.

On Wall-Attacks

People need to expand their hearing because the walls of the streets are singing songs, are telling stories. If you have trouble hearing, then open your eyes. To those who have sung back messages of warmth,
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the culprits send appreciation of your enjoyment, or in some cases, concern; to those who leave words of hate,
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the walls of the street only respect those who can make them sing better than they’ve already sung. The walls of the streets want to feel more alive.

To those who write messages en el cibernet, the culprits have eyes on the prowl for them; we can hear ever note you hum, every beat you tap.

And it has already begun; more culprits are appearing on the streets. The Riverbed would love say that he is the only one causing the walls to sing, that he is the only one the walls respect, but this is not true.
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And some want to say we aren’t artists.
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- Wall-attack #1, La Perla, Old San Juan, Puerto Rico

Fuck art, fuck public taste. Read the poets’ rights here:

slap in the face of public taste
by d. burliuk, alexander kruchenykh, v. mayakovsky, victor khlebnikov
15th december 1913

To the readers of our New First Unexpected.

We alone are the face of our Time. Through us the horn of time blows in the art of the word.

The past is too tight. The Academy and Pushkin are less intelligible than hieroglyphics.

Throw Pushkin, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, etc., etc. overboard from the Ship of Modernity.

He who does not forget his first love will not recognize his last.

Who, trustingly, would turn his last love toward Balmont's perfumed lechery? Is this the reflection of today's virile soul?

Who, faintheartedly, would fear tearing from warrior Bryusov's black tuxedo the paper armorplate? Or does the dawn of unknown beauties shine from it?

Wash Your hands which have touched the filthy slime of the books written by those countless Leonid Andreyevs.

All those Maxim Gorkys, Kuprins, Bloks, Sologubs, Remizovs, Averchenkos, Chornys, Kuzmins, Bunins, etc. need only a dacha on the river. Such is the reward fate gives tailors.

From the heights of skyscrapers we gaze at their insignificance!...

We order that the poets' rights be revered:

1. To enlarge the scope of the poet's vocabulary with arbitrary and derivative words (Word-novelty).
2. To feel an insurmountable hatred for the language existing before their time.
3. To push with horror off their proud brow the Wreath of cheap fame that You have made from bathhouse switches.
4. To stand on the rock of the word "we" amidst the sea of boos and outrage.

And if for the time being the filthy stigmas of Your "Common sense" and "good taste" are still present in our lines, these same lines for the first time already glimmer with the Summer Lightening of the New Coming Beauty of the Self-sufficient (self-centered) Word.

David Burliuk, Alexander Kruchenykh, Vladimir Mayakovsky, Victor Khlevnikov



Bands!

Tons of shows this weekend in Gainesville. The Riverbed tried to catch them all; sorry to those he might’ve missed. He’s noticed that all the online hipsters are using Vimeo to show their footage, but it can’t hold that much footage, so this will probably be the only post in which the Riverbed uses Vimeo, even though it does upload a lot faster than YouTube. Enjoy.

Mad Happy

Mad Happy from Andy Riverbed on Vimeo.

ARS Phoenix

ARS Phoenix from Andy Riverbed on Vimeo.

Wayland Thorton and the Heavy Hands

Wayland Thorton and the Heavy Hands from Andy Riverbed on Vimeo.

Zombies Organize!

Zombies Organize! from Andy Riverbed on Vimeo.

The Nervous Systems


Savages


Raarfaction




Wayward Art Show

is January 30th. La Cara Oculta (del rock n rol) and Kenesaw Mountain Lenois will be playing.

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Stephen Morse

has a book available to purchase; it's about his trials with cancer. Check that out HERE.

Mud-Luscious Press

MLP chapbooks are now available to purchase at the Wayward Council, and every month three volumes by three indie-writers will be available as well.
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Soon the Wayward will have Tao Lin books, and MuuMuu House books as well.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

How to Gain Respect

Before Obama ever was President-elect, he was just a simple teacher in an inner-city school. The day he first got hired, after spending eighty dollars on detox drinks and self-piss-tests to make sure he’d pass the screening, he scoped out the scene. He tried to be incognito, but it didn’t work; the pearl necklace he wore that day called him out; he was a separate class than the students. The students saw Obama walk above their heads. But despite this setback, of not being able to blend in, Obama did not allow himself to miss an opportunity. “We need change,” he told himself that day, floating above the crowd. He took mental pictures of the students, and went home to make a plan. The next morning, Obama arrived, dropped off by a two-story limo that had illegally tinted windows. The door of it was opened, and Obama back-flipped out, landing with a bounce he set up with his knees. He turned around and opened his lips the way Mick Jagger does when he’s done too much coke (the way Obama thinks it’s permanently stuck because of too much of it), and gave full-view to his new platinum grills. The students, children of ethnic groups—poor, poor, poor—could finally see him for what he was: one of them. Obama had their respect. He swaggered down the halls, through metal detectors (letting them ring annoying songs, but allowed to continue because he was faculty), through gang beat-downs, through aggressive and sexual stares. Obama stood in front of the board and wrote, “OBAMA!” and turned around, bent at his knees and leaned back. He said, “I fucking listen to hip-hop! I’m fucking street! My life’s laughable but I’m fucking doing what I want! I’m fucking the shit! I’m a piece of shit! When you’ve been through what I’ve been through, when you’ve been fucked by life though all the consequences are your own breeding, and you’re still being a piece of shit, then I’ll respect you.”

*DISCLAIMER*

Andy Riverbed does not support the formation of suburban ska-punk bands. When questioned as to why he would represent himself with such crap on his blog, he answered, “It exists. It must be documented. Shitty-suburban-ska-punk-bands are an anthropological enigma that must be looked into to prevent in the future. Ska-punk sucks!”

Circus Circus played their second show without, Rilly, their drummer on December 13 along with LARF, TBH, Amish Electric Chair, and the Roaring Twenties. Props to AEC, the RTs, Greg, Matt, Spence, Brian, Brett (for showing up), and anyone else that my mind might have slipped, for representing and staying to watch Circus Circus. Fuck little kids that got to be home by 12 AM.

Circus Circus


The Roaring Twenties


Amish Electric Chair


LARF


TBH



ART BENEFIT

The Wayward Council will be participating in the University of Florida’s January ’09 Art Walk. Last year’s at the Wayward was a success; artists from all over the country donated pieces. If interested in donating art to be sold at a gallery-type-thingy at Wayward, followed by a band show, feel free.

Check out the flyer here.

If you need details such as a contact address, send an email to andy.riverbed@yahoo.com


Zachary C. Bush is getting shit done.

Zachary C. Bush, a good poet-friend of mine, has a collection of his available through Lulu press. You can check that out here. He is a great poet who really likes to push shit. He also has two other books coming out next year from some pretty cool publishers.

They are:
1) AT SWAN DECAPITATION (Vox Press: Spring/Fall ’09)
--concrete/graphic/language-experimental poetry
2) ANGLES OF DISORER (BlazeVOX books: Summer ’09)
--surrealist/fabulist/futurist odd blend of prose poetry

ZCB also founded a new lit journal named KORA, check it out here.


Not everyone hates Andy Riverbed.

People are appreciating the social work that the Riverbed partakes in. Check the praise here.

There's also another interview with the Riverbed at What to Wear During an Orange Alert? Check that out here.

Don't forget you can pre-order the debut Andy Riverbed collection throughout the month of December here.


New Translations

Knowing his Country had a Weak Legal System

Some half-wit
Asian
dude tried to save face
once
so he murdered
his girlfriend
cause she accepted
his
ding-a-ling
wouldn't work right.

- Ra Gabriel

Sabiendo que su país tenia una mierda de sistema legal

Un asiático
medio
moron trato de dar cara
una vez
asique mató
su novía
porque ella aceptó
que su
bichito
no funcionaba.

- Translated from English by Andy Riverbed


Easier Than Betty Crocker's Chocolate Cake

my fingers smell like pussy (mine)
my husband is in bed (snoring)
life has become a painting by an
auto mechanic who inherited his mama's trailer
and can't keep a woman
cause he listens to Mahler instead of George Strait
and he'd rather eat garlic mashed potatoes than pussy

the painting is of a duck
the duck looks puzzled
and out of place
in the IHOP parking lot

- Misti Rainwater

Mas facíl que un bizcocho de chocolate Betty Crocker

mis dedos huelen a chocha (la mía)
mi esposo esta en la cama (roncando)
la vida se ha vuelto una pintura por un
mecaníco quien heredó el tráiler de su maí
y no puede quedarse con una mujer
porque escucha a Mahler envede de a George Strait
y prefiere comer papas majadas con ajo envede de chocha

la obra es de un pato
el pato se ve confundido
y fuera de lugar
en el estacionamineto de IHOP

- Translated from English by Andy Riverbed