September 2008 Archives
In my stress dream, I am Sarah Palin. I don't know anything. I don't know anything beyond the Cartesian basics: I am here. I think I am here, and therefore I am thinking, and therefore I exist. But I have no idea how I got here. I have no idea how we got here. I don't even remember walking into this room, putting on this body mic, smoothing my skirt over my thighs, concentrating on your hair. I don't know anything that's ever happened, ever - and not just in that isolated dream way, where there's no past and no future - this feels entirely real, entirely un-dreamlike. Everyone is watching. You're asking me questions and I don't know the answers. I only have answers to questions no one will ask me. I am naked. I am walking across the stage in heels. I should have never accepted this job. I should have said no. I should have said no when I had the chance. I no longer have the chance. I have no chance. I am Sarah Palin.Ladies and gentlemen, I am Sarah Palin.
(This is something I'm writing, not something I'm feeling. Hi!)
Love
Dan
1. So I'll be doing a bunch of college speaking gigs this year. I had my first a few days ago at Sarah Lawrence. Those kids are a trip. It looked a lot like this:
2. The Dan Fishback Songbooks at The Sidewalk Cafe ended last night. With a bang, I think! Novice Theory blew my mind. Cole was in top form as Joyce. Michael Schulman and Rachel Shukert sang "Rose's Turn" in unison. Josepha inspired me to become a better guitar player and a more adventurous lyricist. Over the course of the four evenings, I managed to get through almost every song in my repertoire, except, oddly enough, "Under the Gun" and "My Calendar," which are actually both songs I quite like. If I was Tori Amos, I'd say they didn't WANT to be played - that they were back in my apartment splitting a bottle of wine. But, ya know. I'm not Tori Amos.
3. Quite looking forward to:
Love
Dan
2. The Dan Fishback Songbooks at The Sidewalk Cafe ended last night. With a bang, I think! Novice Theory blew my mind. Cole was in top form as Joyce. Michael Schulman and Rachel Shukert sang "Rose's Turn" in unison. Josepha inspired me to become a better guitar player and a more adventurous lyricist. Over the course of the four evenings, I managed to get through almost every song in my repertoire, except, oddly enough, "Under the Gun" and "My Calendar," which are actually both songs I quite like. If I was Tori Amos, I'd say they didn't WANT to be played - that they were back in my apartment splitting a bottle of wine. But, ya know. I'm not Tori Amos.
3. Quite looking forward to:
- The next public reading of the Articles of Impeachment, this Saturday from 11am to 3pm at New York Theater Workshop. Free! You can read some too, if you want!
- Jeremiah Lockwood's "HIDDEN MELODIES REVEALED!" Jeremiah is one of the other Six Points Fellows, and his project - a super spooky, demonic, operatic mixed-media rock performance - is one of the most compelling spooky, demonic, operatic mixed-media rock performances I've ever seen. He is a weird little guy who makes weird big noises, and I like to watch. He's running on Monday and Tuesday at Le Poisson Rouge! Go get freaked out!
- Taking a nap!
Love
Dan
I guess I'm the dark one. I hope everything's okay with these two!
Love
Dan
Love
Dan
For my show tonight, I played electric guitar, exclusively. It was a fun experiment, but I had more fun a few hours later, singing "Luka" at Metropolitan Kareoke Night.
First night in months, wearing long sleeves in the backyard of the gay bar. The End Of The Summer is always wistful, but nowhere more than the backyard of the gay bar, after months of cut-offs and tank tops - the expectation of love and love's approximations. In the autumn, I put on my hoodie and remember who I am.
I'm a boy who wears lots of clothes.
My first college party was a "naked party," at the house of some queer grad students who I never saw again. I wore three layers of clothing, and hung out with two lesbians who did the same. Off in the corner, three gay boys in underpants were making out with each other. After a while, it became clear that two of them weren't interested in the third. Pretty soon, it was just the two of them making out, with the third boy standing next to them, sad. It made me sad too. I started crying, and ran home.
If that happened now, I suppose I would just go over and talk to him. I suppose?
Love
Dan
First night in months, wearing long sleeves in the backyard of the gay bar. The End Of The Summer is always wistful, but nowhere more than the backyard of the gay bar, after months of cut-offs and tank tops - the expectation of love and love's approximations. In the autumn, I put on my hoodie and remember who I am.
I'm a boy who wears lots of clothes.
My first college party was a "naked party," at the house of some queer grad students who I never saw again. I wore three layers of clothing, and hung out with two lesbians who did the same. Off in the corner, three gay boys in underpants were making out with each other. After a while, it became clear that two of them weren't interested in the third. Pretty soon, it was just the two of them making out, with the third boy standing next to them, sad. It made me sad too. I started crying, and ran home.
If that happened now, I suppose I would just go over and talk to him. I suppose?
Love
Dan
I've been known to remark (frequently, and in public) about my love of the Lehman Brothers building at 47th and Broadway.
At night, it looks like the whole building is made of screens. The screens look wrong somehow, like they're not supposed to be there - but in the best possible way, like something holy is just tearing through the darkness with a message of peace and strength. One night, when I first moved to the city, I was running through Times Square to the subway; I was feeling useless, dejected, lost. I stopped before this building, and ocean waves were cascading across the screen... then clouds... then fields of wheat... and finally this text slid into view:
I thought to myself, "Maybe I should get a job there."
I mean, these people BUILD VISION. I'd like to build vision! I'd like to manufacture perception itself, control the ways in which we perceive the world around us. If I was in charge of Vision-Building at Lehman Brothers, I can only imagine the reforms I'd make...
Except Lehman Brothers probably won't exist tomorrow.
Who's gonna make all the vision?! Anyone? Anyone?!
Love
Dan
At night, it looks like the whole building is made of screens. The screens look wrong somehow, like they're not supposed to be there - but in the best possible way, like something holy is just tearing through the darkness with a message of peace and strength. One night, when I first moved to the city, I was running through Times Square to the subway; I was feeling useless, dejected, lost. I stopped before this building, and ocean waves were cascading across the screen... then clouds... then fields of wheat... and finally this text slid into view:LEHMAN BROTHERS: WHERE VISION GETS BUILT.
I thought to myself, "Maybe I should get a job there."
I mean, these people BUILD VISION. I'd like to build vision! I'd like to manufacture perception itself, control the ways in which we perceive the world around us. If I was in charge of Vision-Building at Lehman Brothers, I can only imagine the reforms I'd make...
Except Lehman Brothers probably won't exist tomorrow.
Who's gonna make all the vision?! Anyone? Anyone?!
LoveDan
Sometimes, Google Alerts emails you, to remind you of something you wrote a long time ago, and it feels like a letter from a friend. And you remember that you're moving forward -- that your life is merely changing, not unraveling -- which means you can stop crying. Thanks, Google Alerts.
Love
Dan
Love
Dan
Not even I was prepared for how stupid this woman is:
Important thoughts soon.
Love
Dan
Important thoughts soon.
Love
Dan
Today I'm cat-sitting at Dibs' house. You know the part in Joseph Keckler's "Cat Lady," where his sad Aunt Carol wants to adopt the sad cat Mrs. Gummage because two sad old ladies would make each other happy, "the way two wrongs make a right"? This arrangement feels a lot like that. Rose and I are soul sisters. Spritely and playful, but with an underlying intensity that can be upsetting and tedious. Check us out.
Anyway, I'm getting lots of work done here. Dibs' kitchen is sunny and yellow, with billowing curtains and two buckets of kombucha.
I'm thinking today about:
-posture
-the difference / lack of difference between love and loneliness
-dreams, the realization of dreams, and the new dreams that come after the old dreams are realized
-imitations, voices and possession
-astrology, and how it is real
-anti-folk albums, 2002-2005
-life, and how much is hopefully left, and how little i can imagine it, and how petrifying that is
-how I've never seen "The Women," and how I will, tomorrow, with Cole, before MY SHOW AT SIDEWALK AT 8pm.
I think Rose gets upset when I practice guitar, but I need to run through some more songs.
Love
Dan
Anyway, I'm getting lots of work done here. Dibs' kitchen is sunny and yellow, with billowing curtains and two buckets of kombucha. I'm thinking today about:
-posture
-the difference / lack of difference between love and loneliness
-dreams, the realization of dreams, and the new dreams that come after the old dreams are realized
-imitations, voices and possession
-astrology, and how it is real
-anti-folk albums, 2002-2005
-life, and how much is hopefully left, and how little i can imagine it, and how petrifying that is
-how I've never seen "The Women," and how I will, tomorrow, with Cole, before MY SHOW AT SIDEWALK AT 8pm.
I think Rose gets upset when I practice guitar, but I need to run through some more songs.
Love
Dan
1. "CALENDAR BOYS" is finished! Listen to three new tracks, "Make Out," "Weird Again," and "Rue McClanahan Hands" here: http://www.myspace.com/danfishback. It's not available for purchase online yet, so come pick it up at my September Residency at Sidewalk! I'm playing again on the 9th, 16th and 23rd!
2. In the words of Fey Friend Bennett, "With all her kontradictions and komplexities, any thinking fey is left wondering: WHO IS THE REAL SARAH PALIN? By which I mean, what character on television does she most resemble?" I've already covered that, so I'll answer another way. Who is the real Sarah Palin? Well, she's MY WORST NIGHTMARE: an attractive Republican who imposes comical simplicity upon the most complex of issues - simplicity so comical she can get an arena of desperate whackos convulsing in laughter, weeping, jumping up and down, crushing their children's skulls. Sarah Palin is a Simplicist. We got oil? -- Let's go drill it out. People want to kill us? -- Let's kill them first! Community Organizer? -- Sounds kinda faggy!
Call me over-sensitive, but I feel like Sarah Palin's whole speech last night was just a really polite way of saying, "You are all faggots. My son and husband will kick your ass. You are all faggots." I'm imagining a talk show where Sarah Palin and Ann Coulter put on lots of make-up, look at pictures of Democrats, and go, "Fag! Fag! Weak fag! Stupid fag!"
Sarah Palin petrifies me, because she tells people what they want to believe -- that they're okay, that they're not racist, that they're not sexist, that they're not greedy, that they're not assholes. I like Barack Obama because he says, IN A MUCH NICER WAY, you ARE racist, you ARE sexist, you ARE greedy, you ARE assholes, BUT I BELIEVE IN YOU, AND I BELIEVE YOU CAN BE BETTER, AND I WANT TO HELP US ALL BECOME BETTER. Hard to hear, and even harder with this nice lady telling you the opposite. I don't like this. I don't like this at all!
3. In escapism news, this guy is my hero:
4. But this guy is my heroine:
Love
Dan
2. In the words of Fey Friend Bennett, "With all her kontradictions and komplexities, any thinking fey is left wondering: WHO IS THE REAL SARAH PALIN? By which I mean, what character on television does she most resemble?" I've already covered that, so I'll answer another way. Who is the real Sarah Palin? Well, she's MY WORST NIGHTMARE: an attractive Republican who imposes comical simplicity upon the most complex of issues - simplicity so comical she can get an arena of desperate whackos convulsing in laughter, weeping, jumping up and down, crushing their children's skulls. Sarah Palin is a Simplicist. We got oil? -- Let's go drill it out. People want to kill us? -- Let's kill them first! Community Organizer? -- Sounds kinda faggy!
Call me over-sensitive, but I feel like Sarah Palin's whole speech last night was just a really polite way of saying, "You are all faggots. My son and husband will kick your ass. You are all faggots." I'm imagining a talk show where Sarah Palin and Ann Coulter put on lots of make-up, look at pictures of Democrats, and go, "Fag! Fag! Weak fag! Stupid fag!"
Sarah Palin petrifies me, because she tells people what they want to believe -- that they're okay, that they're not racist, that they're not sexist, that they're not greedy, that they're not assholes. I like Barack Obama because he says, IN A MUCH NICER WAY, you ARE racist, you ARE sexist, you ARE greedy, you ARE assholes, BUT I BELIEVE IN YOU, AND I BELIEVE YOU CAN BE BETTER, AND I WANT TO HELP US ALL BECOME BETTER. Hard to hear, and even harder with this nice lady telling you the opposite. I don't like this. I don't like this at all!
3. In escapism news, this guy is my hero:
4. But this guy is my heroine:
Love
Dan
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