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One of the weirdest things about this trip is the peek it gives on how I could have turned out.

I’m a bit of a celebrity here, because I’m the only one of Flint’s children who made it to his sister’s funeral (the big man himself was explicitly uninvited, and was smart enough to stay away).

Of course, no one here really knows me. They know a part of my story, or what I was like when I was eight or ten or fourteen. (One aunt refuses to refer to me by my name, she calls me “the genius” instead, like I’m from a different world.)

I’m asked a lot why I never moved back to montreal, why I’m not moving back now. There’s opportunity abound (this cousin just bought a fido store on a whim, that uncle runs a very successful new media firm, etc.) and it’s difficult to articulate my reasons in ways that make any sense to them.

The stories shared over drinks (congac that I could never afford, let alone appreciate) are equally alien: turning Bill Gates down for an opportunity to invest in Microsoft in ’73, trying to call a cab to a family-owned factory in the heart of Compton at 4AM, or paying off a hit on a brother to save their life (and then telling them years later how much they regretted it).

More to come as I get the chance to post it.

tbgo

I’m in Montreal for a funeral. It was for one of my aunts, someone who helped take care of me when I was young, after my dad kidnapped me. (I didn’t post about it before, because I didn’t want to advertise that the largest gathering of clan Kaya in twenty years would be in range of one well-placed grenade.)

This is the most involved that I’ve been with my father’s side of the family since those days, and it feels like I’m through the looking glass. Limos, private restaurants, multimillion dollar homes, arguments about who stole the will from who…

It’s all very surreal. I’ll try to take some photos.

If I want to see you, all I have to do…

Last night, I dreamt that I was surrounded by old friends, close friends. We had pulled an art heist, a big one, and despite how perfectly orchestrated and executed it was, the police were closing in on us. They didn’t have proof, but they knew it was us, and they weren’t going to stop until we were caught. All I could see was everything I owned, everything I’d worked for, gone; replaced by a set of handcuffs.

I wonder what that means?

40 Years Later – The Last Four Remember Dr. King

“…martyrdom also forced onto King’s dead body the face of a toothless tiger. His threat has been domesticated, his danger sweetened. His depressions and wounds have been turned into waves and smiles. There is little suffering recalled, only light and glory. King’s more challenging rhetoric has gone unemployed, left homeless in front of the Lincoln Memorial, blanketed in dream metaphors, feasting on leftovers of hope lite.

White Americans have long since forgotten just how much heat and hate the thought of King could whip up. They have absolved themselves of blame for producing, or failing to fight, the murderous passions that finally tracked King down in Memphis, Tenn. If one man held the gun, millions more propped him up and made it seem a good, even valiant idea. In exchange for collective guilt, whites have given King lesser victories, including a national holiday.

But blacks have not been innocent in the posthumous manipulations of King’s legacy. If many whites have undercut King by praising him to death, many blacks have hollowed his individuality through worship. The black reflex to protect King’s reputation from unprincipled attack is understandable. But the wish to worship him into perfection is misled; the desire to deify him is tragically misplaced. The scars of his humanity are what make his glorious achievements all the more remarkable.

Both extremes of white and black culture must be avoided. Many whites want him clawless; many blacks want him flawless. But we must keep him fully human, warts and all. In the end, King used the inevitability of a premature death to argue for social change and measure our commitment to truth. There is a lot to be learned in how King feared and faced death, and fought it too. What we make of his death may determine what we make of his legacy and our future.”

AVS

Three years later, Bone Music is finally done. 13 tracks, just under 77 minutes.

Ancients
Waiting For Gira
Friends of Father
Bone Music
International Dark Skies
No Exit
Number Nine
Just
Epilogue
Friends of Father (Tonikom Remix)
Bone Music (Antigen Shift Remix)
Number Nine (Synapscape Remix)

Bonus Track: Urusai - Learned Helplessness (Destroy and Contaminate Mix by Ad·ver·sary)

Yann came into town for the weekend so that we could mix it down and get the master ready, and he worked some kind of audio voodoo — it sounds so much better than the old International Dark Skies demo. I have to finish some final level adjustments to the mastering, and then the album is ready to press — I’ve decided to mix the album to an average RMS level of about -14 dBFS, rather than the much louder -8 to -5 dBFS that’s currently standard for most electronic albums. (For reference, My Bloody Valentine averages at about -17 dBFS, Cyanotic at -9dBFS , and DJ? Acucrack at -6dBFS.) This means that you’ll probably have to turn up the volume when you listen to it, but it’ll sound much better for it.

The art will be done in the next few days, and then everything gets sent to the CD replication house early next week, in time to release at the Kinetik festival in May. There’s also a remix EP coming in the fall (which I’m very excited about), with Cyanotic, Imminent, Stendeck, Asche, Iszoloscope, Synkro, JF Coleman (Cop Shoot Cop, Phylr), Mo (Zykotik K9), Totakeke, Shane (Fiveways) and more.

When Bone Music is released I’ll be making the tracks and artwork available for download on my site– payment optional — and I’ll post here with details on how to buy or download the album. I’ve redesigned the Ad·ver·sary website in preparation, and I’ve put together a new look-and-feel for the Tympanik site, which I’ll be handing over to them next week sometime. Then to design some new merch: stickers, buttons, and maybe hoodies, hats, or new shirts. (Any preferences?)

And maybe, if things work out, a tour in the fall.

Things I need more of, in no particular order. (first in a series)

– science-fiction
– coffee
– Super Paper Mario
– Eric B & Rakim
– weird sex
– sun
– N2O
– time
– Amsterdam
– robots
– teeth
– teeth made from robots with smaller teeth inside them so that they chew my food for me when my mouth is closed
– lucid dreaming
– Strongbow
– the responsible abuse of pleasure

My pyrokinesis training at The Shop goes well

After 3 or 4 sessions, I’m starting to get into the groove with neurofeedback. We’ve been mostly working on one or two areas of focus so far, and the “reward” headspace is starting to become familiar, when I manage to get there. I can’t really describe that state of being very easily. It’s much more nebulous and indistinct than the headspace from, say, threshold-dose MDMA or a light D/S scene. At least for now, it is. The ultimate goal is to become so familiar with that state that I can very nearly wear it as a second skin, or better yet, that it’s indistinguishable from my own.

This is a results screenshot from the end of the last session I did. I don’t have the ‘before’ screenshot to compare, but there were a lot more mountains and a lot less gently rolling slopes. The bottom view is probably the clearest of how things progressed over the 8-9 minute session. I was in a foul, foul mood when I arrived (so much so that I very nearly cancelled), but despite my own anger and scepticism I found myself thinking much more clearly as the hour went on.

I’m still looking for appropriate music to make a DVD with, knowing that whatever music I choose will be forever associated with the training. Current thinking is Synaesthesia or Rapoon.

My life still sucks

Dear Diary,

So one of my favourite artists (that I met at Maschinenfest and gave my demo to) just released a new album. This album is on one of my favourite labels (one of the labels that was supposed to release my album, in fact), and is a fairly high-profile release.

This would usually be a good thing. Unfortunately, the first 45 seconds or so of one of the tracks on this album are exactly the same as the first 45 seconds of one of my songs (my best song, in fact).

I emailed the act and the label, and according to the people who wrote the album, we just happened to sample the same sounds from the same place and arrange them in the same order. An “unhappy coincidence”, as one of them put it.

I dug up the extremely-early-and-rough version of my song to see exactly where each of the sounds came from (this song in particular is a collage built almost entirely out of samples), and it would seem that it’s theoretically possible that they went through the same creative process as I did in selecting/assembling the sounds.

Honestly, at this point I don’t even care if they ripped it off on purpose, if it was cosmic synchronicity at work, or if they heard the track and then subconsciously rebuilt it. The most frustrating thing about this is that there’s no way I can release it now. Everyone knows I’m a fan of the artists involved, and everyone knows I listen to everything the label releases. If I put out the track on an album tomorrow, everyone who buys it will think that I’m ripping them off.

I’m so tired of music bullshit already, and I don’t even have a fucking album out.