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WRECK: Blankety Blonk vs 6 Pak-Sa

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  • ninplant@xs4all.nl
    wReck thiS meSS ~ Radio Patapoe 97.2 ~ Amsterdam Ethno-Illogical Psycho-Radiographies: no. 255: Blankety Blonk Blonk vs 6 Pak-Sa Maandag, 24 May 2004 (17.00 to
    Message 1 of 1 , Jun 8, 2004
      wReck thiS meSS ~ Radio Patapoe 97.2 ~ Amsterdam

      Ethno-Illogical Psycho-Radiographies: no. 255: Blankety Blonk Blonk vs 6 Pak-Sa

      Maandag, 24 May 2004 (17.00 to 19.00)

      SIMUL-streaming <http://freeteam.nl/patapoe/>

      "Brieflicher Alpengruß nebst Brunnvergiftung durch Jodeln"
      [Alpine greetings with well poisoning courtesy of yodeling]
      * the Dadaists in their book Dada Au Grand Air / Der Sängerkrieg in Tirol
      ("Battle of the singers in Tirol").

      You got that Manson, that Charlie Manson look... put your sunglasses
      back on ... you're makin me nervous"
      * Erika Stucky

      Värät Gäng > Alice Babs & Swe-Danes [1]
      Ursonate: Erster Teil 1986 > Jaap Blonk [2]
      M.O. > Pak-Sa [3]
      Ursonate: Largo 1986 > Jaap Blonk [2]
      Sherman Tanks Are Just Toys > Pak-Sa [3]
      Ursonate: Scherzo 1986 > Jaap Blonk [2]
      Pyong Pain I am Feeling > Pak-Sa [3]
      Ursonate: Presto 1986 > Jaap Blonk [2]
      Metal Tekno-no [out of Key Mix] > Pak-Sa [3]
      Ursonate: Presto 1986 > Jaap Blonk [2]
      Kermit the Fog / Play Musty for Me [Tekno Remix] > Pak-Sa [2]
      Ursonate: Erster Teil 2003 > Jaap Blonk [2]
      Straight, No Chaser > Leon Thomas [4]
      Ursonate: Erster Teil 2003 > Jaap Blonk [2]
      When I Give 'Em > Sensational [5]
      Ursonate: Erster Teil 2003 > Jaap Blonk [2]
      Faulisch > Stimmhorn [6]
      Ursonate: Erster Teil 2003 > Jaap Blonk [2]
      Rhumba Bomballett > Edwin Torres [7]
      Ursonate: Largo 2003 > Jaap Blonk [2]
      We Speak Saying Nothing > Edwin Torres [7]
      Ursonate: Scherzo 2003 > Jaap Blonk [2]
      Love Hurts > Erika Stucky [8]
      Ursonate: Presto 2003 > Jaap Blonk [2]
      Pak-Sa Hidden Card > Pak-Sa [3]
      Ursonate: Scherzo 2003 > Jaap Blonk [2]
      MR > Pak-Sa [3]
      Ursonate: Presto 2003 > Jaap Blonk [2]
      Kum Into My Bad Housey, You Aphex Twins > Pak-Sa [3]
      Cadenza 1986 > Jaap Blonk [2]
      Rasta Roulette in a Korean Kasino > Pak-Sa [3]
      Cadenza 1986 > Jaap Blonk [2]
      Ursonate: Merz #24 > Kurt Schwitters [9]

      [1] "The Collection" on Disky. This mellifluous and charming Swedish
      vocalist got her start as a teen yodeler in Sweden and she continued
      to lace her jazzy and loungy material with abstract vocals that
      included yodeling. She worked with Duke Ellington as well, doing
      vocal work for him.

      [2] "Ursonate" on Basta <www.bastamusic.com>. This consists of 2
      versions of the Schwitters composition, one recorded in 1986
      [Amsterdam] and the 2nd in 2003 in a chapel in Breda. Kurt
      Schwitters was a loner Dadaist after being rejected by the Berlin
      Dadaists. Maybe they were right to do so because he eventually
      created 2 masterpieces [contrary to Dada principle] Merzbow and
      Ursonate. The Dadaists were right [maybe not first, however] to show
      that logic and reason and clear-headed thinking did NOT lead to
      enlightenment but instead led lockstep to war and ingeniously
      efficient methods of oppression. Schwitters fled the Nazis in 1937
      and ended up in Norway where he died in 1948. The Ursonate is set up
      as a classical 4-movement symphony although the result was a
      provocation of poetic expectation: audiences could not get around the
      fact that he was not saying anything profound. The Ursonate was open
      to interpretation based on specific and general notes left behind by
      Schwitters. Blonk is a natural heir to the Dadaists as he grew up in
      the exact sciences and worked in hierarchical office organizational
      systems. This verbal break out was like a man finding consciousness
      as improvisation led to satisfaction. Since 1979 he has learned the
      Ursonate by heart and has performed it on record twice. Both are
      included here. His early recitations meant [Dadaistically] performing
      in the Amsterdam zoo, on the street, in malls, train stations,
      pastures, the office of the insurance company where he was employed
      and eventually taking in bars and cafes and readings. The Ursonate is
      an incredibly powerful paean to the joys of heady and irrational
      ululations - and there are some yodeling gestures in his section 4
      Presto of the newer version. This is not as odd as it seems - the
      Dadists seemed quite at home with the absurd powers of yodelingŠ

      [3] "Revolution / Emotion" on Sony Japan. The worst of the
      Eurovision-meets-Idols style but with a catch - this guy is unhinged,
      Major Tom to ground control - more helium. Is he the doppelganger of
      the man formerly known as Prince but with one testicle removed? This
      Korean singer seems to pillage and sample and abuse and misuse every
      musical genre ever invented including drum n bass and classical in
      one tune. Nothing is sacred except the image of E-Pak-Sa - he's like
      a guy the Rat Pack sent out for black coffee and he got lost along
      the way and ended up in some time warp disco-hippie clothing shop. A
      comment somewhere on the internet concerning his music: "stomach
      stopping falling down, in surprise heaven dynamic area sound". Either
      that is a Beatnik or a Korean attempt at English. He sashays easily -
      altho his voice sounds sounds like Woody Woodpecker being strangled -
      among all genres, feeling equally like the alien humanoid who fell to
      earth in each musical setting. In any case, me and my daughter were
      dancing like crazy in among the basement dust and discarded James
      Last LPs and dead sound technology. As E-Pak-Sa himself notes in
      almost Bauhaus poetics: "what the CD release is done very much is
      difficult forcing thing in Japan, such a I can produce the album,
      with because it was either the imagination not to be possible, to be
      very happy and the chest umbrella - it increases." What he means is
      that the Japanese market has until he came along been very difficult
      for Korean singers who sing their own Korean songs. He continues:
      "With your own appearance you persevered with utmost effort and
      increased, but entrust the result to everyone it does. And, something
      when you hear my album just, worried something forgetting entirely,
      adjusting to my rhythm, riding song, please dance. If it can solve
      stress even a little with thatŠ [thanks to Maarten Minkema for the
      loan of these CDs.]

      [4] "Leon Thomas in Berlin" on RCA/Bluebird/BMG. Genius jazz yodeler
      thought he was possessed of ancient Pygmy voices. Combined humor,
      licks, Back-to-Africa-isms way before Muhammed Ali, political
      radicalism, a rare gift of relevant abstraction when it comes to
      vocals. Prominently profiled in my book on yodeling,

      [5] "Natural Shine" on Wordsound <www.wordsound.com>. One of the
      coolest vocalists between concrete and low-hanging storm clouds.
      Somewhere between P-funk, Scott T. La Rock, Sly, the Jazz poets of
      the 50s is this guy.

      [6] "Inland" on RecRec <www.recrec.ch> <www.stimmhorn.ch>. A couple
      of crazy guys who do for alphorn what jazz vocalists did for the
      trumpet or saxophone. What I mean is this: they seem to scat sing
      with the alphorn the way Ella or Louis Armstrong or Leon Thomas could
      talk to the brass in a jazz combo to the point that they were
      conversing and imitating and pressing the brass onward. They yodel
      along the way. Scat and yodeling being first cousins.

      [7] "Holy Kid" on Kill Rock Stars <www.killrockstars.com>: From an
      article/review in an old American Book Review - Edwin Torres' debut
      makes a delirious shambles of all the logical ballast attached to
      language. He honed his quirky conniption-sashays and confabulissimo
      verbalocious gymngnostics on the Lower Beastside where attitude is
      the designer clothing of spirit. And somehow he emerged with impish
      heart intact. Lewis Carroll as tongue-twisting rapper? Burroughsian
      cut-up of e.e. cummings and Dr. Seuss? Scatty metathesis duets
      between Kurt Schwitters and Ricky Ricardo? Yesyesyes. Torres' unique
      DIY Cuban-meets-Dada style - a playful mishmash of lo-fi effects,
      cultural tipsiness, outlandish Esperantine word play - giddily
      deflects us away from linearity, perfect margins, and the collateral
      damage of late-corporatese . "Holy" captures Torres digging up our
      collective tyrano-thesaurus-hex while managing to amass significant

      WTM: can words with their rotten freight of meaning still have an
      effect? do we need to strip words of meaning first?

      ET: fgueheh jsi oa oa oa klllpmm ejs wdtt bv bssn az ... i.e.
      moonsun's just a word ... the alchemist's invention; a poet inventing
      alchemy. emotion, thought & image/objectified into a thing called;
      words. So I place words, my words...I lay claim to these zipps that
      fall from m'mouth/screamer inside screamer assaults tonguelashed
      haven at despair for anti-word creetin called; sounz. Placed
      wordsounz in certain order to scramble their meaning/painting strokes
      using colors always seen, the unseen color appears at every new
      viewing. language o'mine exists on many levels...sound, vision,
      experienceómeaning is where you find it, where you let yourself find
      it. I find a sort of madman's joy when I am plowing down what's stood
      before to let what's new replace it...feels good to destroy what's
      been inbred for new meaning to come full force. in poetry the tool
      itself becomes the craft...using the tool itself to invent a new one.
      like baking a stew using yesterday's stew or fresh ingredients...what
      are you hungry for? words remain beautiful...as thought monsters...as
      sound bridge.

      WTM: words have becomes so debased by jive, pick up lines, pop
      lyrics, disingenuous talk on all levels, lying, fabrication,
      political speak, economic mumbo jumbo, bald promotional language -
      how can we best recuperate words and communication?

      ET: not meant to be recuperated, nature of times we live in. best
      chance is to educate audience/society into learning how to
      listen...impossible in over-information age. there's too much talking
      about stuff not the doing itself don't know if words need to be saved
      (merely writing that is a sentence in search of praise), it's more
      likely that people need to be recuperated. the minute I think words
      are used up and foolish, I discover another wordsmith...under the
      surface, unknown to me in this country/this body/this tongue, who
      strikes such a lifeforce inside me that I'm made a believer again. in
      over-langulated world, you can drown trying to lift one zoomer out of
      the mess. I continually soak up what's thrown around me, finding
      myself adding to the maze. The romantic in me likes to think I can
      save the world with my poetry but it's me I need to save. there is no
      more theory ... push for individuality has led to selfishness has led
      to a huge sameness of safe selfness. words become theory when
      mispronounced, in theory-less world the consonant is king (variation
      on something I heard last year). communication becomes identity when
      mispronounced by all who may benefit from mispronouncement. self in
      search of selfness...

      WTM: with the recent proliferation of abstract/sound poetry is there
      something happening - suspicion of words freighted with meaning - or
      a kinship with abstract art or jazz?

      ET: It's a searching for words - not a suspicion. In effort to mine
      sense out of meaning, core of substance is what's attractive to
      hungry ears, language's purity: sound. abstract art/jazz allows for
      multiple interpretation - it's as alive as the moment you're in it.
      changing at every new moment: sounded text/abstracted poetry allows
      organic misinterpretation. babble is breath of freshness, allowing
      mistakes in calculated worldŠ

      [8] "Lovebites" on Traumton <www.traumton.de>. ES's follow-up to her
      cabaret catches fire and you burn your ass first disc. This has
      unsettlingly interesting covers of songs that you are not supposed to
      cover. She covered the Police & Aerosmith on album one and here
      covers Hendrix [totally unconventionally and convincingly]. She
      convincingly covers classics like "Temptation" dragging them out for
      full make-over effect. She even yodels at times and does amazingly
      abstract and avant garde things with her voice but is also able to go
      Carol Burnett and Lily Tomlin and Mae West along the way. Incredibly
      dynamic, compelling and entertaining especially live.

      [9] "Luna Park 010" on Sub Rosa <www.subrosa.net> is an incredible
      collection of word mangling heavyweights. Highly recommended. With
      Apollinaire, Mayakovski, Joyce, Artaud, Tzara, Duchamp, e.e.
      cummings, gysin and others. words have never seemed so alien and
      other and have never served so little purpose while seeming to mean
      so much without knowing quite why.


      o We consider politicians well-versed in the mundane, the straight,
      the logical, the bottom line, the towing of some religious line
      making them appear to be grey and straight and anathema to hip and
      cool and enlightened. But nothing could be further from the truth:
      the best politicians or perhaps what I mean to say, the most
      insidious and dangerous are those who have a penchant/"gift"
      [Midas-in-reverse?] for dealing in the undertow, the illogical,
      hysteria, manipulation of base emotions, etc. Don't get me wrong,
      this doesn't make Hitler or Mussolini or Bush or Amin or Reagan or Le
      Pen or DeGaulle or fill-in the blank Geniuses but it does mean they
      are capable of handling the concept of the power of evil in a manner
      however they feel fit to maintain their power. They have the capacity
      to convert evil into something bureaucratic or compartmentalized as
      ur-patrioticŠ [An asie: Reagan is dead and I have never heard such
      drivel concerning his reign. OK, he is dead, respect that and his
      family but don't go drooling on the way to making him Jesus H. Gandhi
      or something. I mean, right now it looks like he was the greatest man
      alive until he died. And check out below for the elements that evade
      "normal" analyses of power.

      Tom Hayden, "When Bonesmen Fight" [via

      I hope some journalist has the guts to ask John Kerry (Skull and
      Bones, 1965) and George Bush (Skull and Bones, 1967) whether they
      have any qualms about belonging to a secret, oath-bound network since
      their college days. Did they discuss Skull and Bones in code when
      President Bush called Senator Kerry to congratulate him on his
      primary victories? Will they agree not to leave the room if the
      reporter blurts out "322", coded references to Demosthene's birthday
      and Skull and Bones' founding.

      Am I scratching the blackboard yet, dear reader? Or are you smugly
      dismissing these questions as paranoid and unsophisticated? I don't
      consider myself a conspiracy nut, but is it really all right that
      four decades after the egalitarian Sixties, and some 225 years since
      the Declaration of Independence, the American voters' choices in 2004
      are two Bonesmen? The lesson is that aristocracy still survives

      I was a member of a secret society during the same era as Bush and
      Kerry, at the University of Michigan, and can testify that these are
      profoundly lasting experiences. As a junior, I was tapped for the
      Druids, which involved a two-day ritual that included being stripped
      to my underpants, pelted with eggs, smeared with red dye and tied to
      a campus tree. These humiliations signified my rebirth from lowly
      student journalist to Big Man on Campus. Soon, however, I became
      alienated. None of the bonding could make me feel I actually
      belonged. Perhaps I was an outsider by nature, an Irish Catholic
      descendant of immigrants, first in my family to attend university.
      The clubbiness had one purpose, as a source told Alexandra Robbins
      for her book on Skull and Bones. It was "to make the other people who
      didn't get in feel bad." But even as an insider, I felt bad,
      undeserving, resentful. When I was tapped in my senior year for the
      most prestigious secret society, Michigauma, I decided instead to
      hide out in a girlfriend's apartment, becoming the first refusenik in
      Michigauma history. But I still felt like something was wrong with
      me, that I didn't have the right stuff, that I was blowing my future.

      In summer 1960, I experienced the same self-doubt at the national
      convention of the U.S. National Student Association, which then was
      controlled by an older clique of student leaders who seemed, as they
      say, to the manor born. On the one hand, ambition inclined me to
      challenge the clique by running for national affairs vice president,
      a path I would eventually follow twenty years later. On the other
      hand, the radical civil rights and student movements, like the
      fledgling Students for a Democratic Society, were pulling at my
      heart. Should I work within the establishment or create something new
      and risky? One night I came across a yellow pad left on a desk by the
      NSA leadership. At the top of a chart was written "Control Group". On
      the left was my name and that of Alan Haber, a founder of SDS. On the
      right was a box marked "YAF" - Young Americans for Freedom, the
      conservative group founded at Yale by William F. Buckley (Bones 1950).

      Seven years later, it was revealed that the CIA secretly controlled
      and funded NSA, and that former editors of the Michigan Daily were
      among the spooks they recruited. I went south as a Freedom Rider and
      drafted the SDS Port Huron Statement. In those years, George Bush was
      a Yale cheerleader and devoted Deke. John Kerry became a Navy
      lieutenant shooting up the Mekong Delta. Bush never seemed to
      question authority, while Kerry's loyalties were shaken by war. But
      they both belonged to the vast, safe, surreptitious Affirmative
      Action Program for old boys. It seems like a lifetime since those
      days, but we still suffer from many gaps based on privilege. The
      political system is a moneyed oligarchy underneath its democratic
      trappings. The vast majority of voters are like fans in the
      bleachers: We participate from the cheap seats, supposed to enjoy our
      place, and vote for whichever Bonesman we prefer. Our taxes even
      subsidize their corporate box seats.

      Sometimes Bonesman fight over status. For instance, about 75 years
      ago, Dwight Davis, U.S. secretary of war, created the Davis Cup, and
      George H. Walker, grandfather of George W., volleyed back by
      establishing the Walker Cup. The differences today between Bush and
      Kerry are about as serious as they get, short of a duel. Karl Marx
      (London School of Economics) would describe the split a contradiction
      in the ruling class. Bush is the unilateral builder of empire, while
      Kerry stands for the multilateral alliances long preferred by most
      Bonesmen. Though both the Cowboy and the Brahmin may be quarreling
      members of the same old club, their differences are existential for
      the rest of us.

      Ralph Nader doesn't see this. Instead, he argues that the two parties
      are a duopoly within the same plutocracy. Maybe Nader is nursing
      resentment over not being tapped himself, but his is a dangerous
      blindness. The differences between Bush and Kerry over Supreme Court
      appointments, religious fundamentalism, civil rights, the
      environment, John Ashcroft and the future of Iraq are fundamental,
      dividing the two parties at the constituency level. Bush genuflects
      to the Christian Right while Kerry sings Kumbaya. The Bush people are
      scary and destabilizing, which is why the CIA types seem to prefer
      Kerry (covertly, of course). For the record, this November I am
      voting with the CIA. They represent the lesser evil in the choices
      before us. But like Ralph Nader, I want democracy to mean more than a
      choice between two candidates chosen by dueling Bonesmen and their
      major donors. I still stand for participatory democracy, the original
      1962 vision of the SDS, which grew from our generation's experience
      in organizing among the excluded, from the Deep South to the Peace
      Corps. Students in those days were drafted for war, but considered
      too immature to vote. Southern blacks and Mexican immigrants could be
      sharecroppers in the fields, but not equal citizens in the ballot
      box. For us, democracy meant who had the most votes, not who
      controlled the most money. It meant the free flow of information, not
      suffocation under corporate advertising and media.

      We have always wanted more than the right to choose between two
      candidates already vetted by the establishment. We wanted a more
      direct voice in the decisions that affected our lives. We wanted a
      democracy of participation, not a democracy regulated by secret
      societies. We wanted all the closets emptied. We are a more open and
      democratic country as a result of the Sixties and earlier generations
      of radicals. We owe the Abolitionists, not merely Abraham Lincoln,
      for the end of slavery, the suffragettes for the right to vote, the
      populists for regulation of Wall Street, the industrial strikers for
      collective bargaining, the environmentalists for cleaner air and
      water. In this election, the anti-war and global justice movements
      have helped shape the agenda over Iraq and trade. And the gay-lesbian
      community is turning marriage into civil disobedience.

      Yet, it remains the peculiar character of America's elite to absorb
      reform from below while remaining atop the pyramids of power. When a
      majority of Americans still feel inferior to Ivy League candidates,
      or identify vicariously with their dramas, we do not live in a
      democracy psychologically. That must eventually change. Closeted
      dynasties should have no moral legitimacy in a democracy - which is
      why they have become increasingly secret. Two years ago, students at
      the University of Michigan broke into, occupied and exposed the
      secret space of Michigauma, finding stolen Indian artifacts among the
      items hidden there. Michigauma moved off campus. When I heard the
      news, I wished I'd done that long ago instead of making such a
      private and ambiguous protest. It took a new generation to smash the
      old idols. Maybe Leonard Cohen is right, democracy is coming to the

      [Tom Hayden was a leader of the student, civil rights, peace and
      environmental movements of the 1960s. He served 18 years in the
      California legislature, where he chaired labor, higher education and
      natural resources committees. He is the author of ten books,
      including "Street Wars" (New Press, 2004). He is a professor at
      Occidental College, Los Angeles, and was a visiting fellow at
      Harvard's Institute of Politics last fall.]

      Send all sound material for airplay and review to:
      Wreck This MeSS
      Radio 100 / Radio Patapoe
      bart plantenga
      Zeilstraat 23 / II
      1075 SB Amsterdam
      the Netherlands

      o "plus another few hundred when it hits the BSI list!" Ezra
      o Old playlists archived at <http://www.wfmu.org/~bart/>
      o Selected Playlists at http://www.romanapoli.com/black/wreckthismess.html
      o Soon, the unveiling of new juggernaut: <http://wreckthismess.com/>
      courtesy of Pavement Tulip, a genius stuck in the body of a Polish
      skier in Brooklyn's inner denouement.


      CONTACT ninplant@... FOR REMOVAL

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