Monday, August 17, 2009
{===}
(sorry about the short songs, haven't had the time to upload full versions)
(full band tunes coming as well)
(tapes done)
(want a copy?)
(a couple bucks would be nice)
(trapdoorproductions@graffiti.net)
-Patter Cubs
http://www.myspace.com/pattercubs
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Alan Ball loves the trangression
Alan Ball , creator of True Blood, on his pull towards the grotesque and representative.
"I don’t want to just sit there and let something that is predigested wash over me and not really think about all of the weird, ambiguous and scary parts of life. I think trying to avoid those is ultimately self-destructive and also destructive in a global sense, because as a race we face a lot of really, really terrifying problems, and we live in a violent, irrational world. I like to confront that in symbolic ways through entertainment. I’m interested in things that reach down into your soul and your psyche and force you to confront the monsters that live there."
"I don’t want to just sit there and let something that is predigested wash over me and not really think about all of the weird, ambiguous and scary parts of life. I think trying to avoid those is ultimately self-destructive and also destructive in a global sense, because as a race we face a lot of really, really terrifying problems, and we live in a violent, irrational world. I like to confront that in symbolic ways through entertainment. I’m interested in things that reach down into your soul and your psyche and force you to confront the monsters that live there."
Sunday, August 9, 2009
THIS TOWN by hayley
Child, inside this Book of Monsters creeps
not a thing unreal (I’ve seen the filthiest
claws stalk ‘cross the pages --
scratch the books of History).
Here, in this Town of Monsters,
I’ve walked up and down the darkest streets,
little as I am, (too tired to be afraid);
I have never heard a human name.
Once, I made a vow to keep
my soft hands clean of scaling skin,
but then, in bright-spark flashing flame
lightning struck and broke my teeth.
For my apartment shakes with monsters.
they never stay for long, they go
fast like cigarettes, (like men)
and now, Faith, my son is dead.
my darling son is dead.
So, to hide myself, and you, from them
I’ve draped over my perfect skin, my
perfect human body, a thick and shapeless drape.
(I will never be naked again).
I will hide until they leave
Or at least until they sleep.
Child, it’s overrun with monsters
and they still control the world.
not a thing unreal (I’ve seen the filthiest
claws stalk ‘cross the pages --
scratch the books of History).
Here, in this Town of Monsters,
I’ve walked up and down the darkest streets,
little as I am, (too tired to be afraid);
I have never heard a human name.
Once, I made a vow to keep
my soft hands clean of scaling skin,
but then, in bright-spark flashing flame
lightning struck and broke my teeth.
For my apartment shakes with monsters.
they never stay for long, they go
fast like cigarettes, (like men)
and now, Faith, my son is dead.
my darling son is dead.
So, to hide myself, and you, from them
I’ve draped over my perfect skin, my
perfect human body, a thick and shapeless drape.
(I will never be naked again).
I will hide until they leave
Or at least until they sleep.
Child, it’s overrun with monsters
and they still control the world.
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