Welcome to nowhere
Not sure what you're doin nosin around here. I got rid of the staff from last year. And when I say I got rid of 'em don't you worry about what I did with 'em. Just rest assured they won't be yanking my anchor chain anymore.
They call me Cap'n Merkin and I recommend you clear out and head over to EXTRACTIONS on Substack.
FORMER STAFF FROM 2021, NOW MISSING
Howdy-do with a no-charge Ha-Cha-Cha!
I'm the new web host, Scooter.
...volunteer host, I should say.
The Kickstarter didn't get far on its broken clutch of a project statement.
I split my time between this gig and a Florida motel room home/office, virtual life-coaching on a pay-what-you-can basis that doesn't because my website was hacked by someone from a place I've never heard of, but may have visited in my early "wild days", who says I need to send a ransom or else they'll release a video of me doing something that I don't remember doing unless it was that night I ended up beer-ponging with that sword swallower in the circus green room at an open-bar after-hours meet-n-greet. Oh, youth!
We're negotiating, but I can't find a credit union that offers bitcoins. What the H are those things, anyway? Are they like toonies? because I have some left over from when I was a personal shopper at a Manitoba renaissance craft fair.
Enough about ole me, though.
The website staff from 2020 went into lockdown and stopped replying to my WhatsApps, so I hired a second-in-command.
The job post on CareerBuilder was searching for a regional manager, but I got a terrific resume from an applicant in a stable relationship with no kids and an employment history including past experience as an assistant ringmaster/children's magician, so I hired them on the spot after agreeing to change the job title to "Enthusiasm Czar".
Fine with me. Dreamers-R-Us is my motto.
So, let me just past the flaming baton.
Say hello to Dr. Dinky!
A little update for Scooter: it's Professor Dinky now.
I had my musicologist license revoked for overusing the term "alt-country". Nostalgic addiction can be a bitch. Happy to report I've switched to "Americana" and my probation period is almost up. I'll be opening a new practice as soon as No Depression announces its festival cruise on the AARP Travel Center site.
All aboard, motherfuckers!!!
Luckily, I had enough non-credit audit hours from Boise State to teach. Seems all you need to qualify in the open-carry state is a Sam's Club card and a Gadsden flag designer belt clip gun holster.
Presto chango, I'm a sage!
Also, to clarify, I chose to not have children. I just don't like 'em. And the reason I'm in a stable relationship is because my roommate-with-benefits is well-off on a balloon artist pension.
Keepin' it compos mentis, ya'll.
But, I digress...
So, yeah, I oversee all of the pages on this website now. Scooter's cellphone has been disconnected or whatever you call it, and that leaves me to keep this mean machine well-oiled and exhaust-braking.
Just DM me on Twitter with vaguely personal questions or contact info for any up-and-coming music bloggers.
The twang must go on!
staff alumni 2020 mission statements
Hi. It's me.
I'm what ya call an interest-grabber. I'm part of the revamp team behind the 2020 website.
The old site went out for a Spudnut, and, as the Springsteen song goes, "never went back",
so, let's just move on.
Here's a few tips for a new attitude & a fresh start:
1. Change your name.
2. Buy a cowboy belt & put your new name on the back so people know who you are as you walk away, muttering or humming or a combo of the two.
3. Move to a refurbished homeland; refurbished as in it was better before it was gentrified. Adopt a regional dialect or make one up that makes you seem more like a para-professional yokel and less like a hick.
4. Write a letter to JC but address it to Jeez, like you're casual friends.
5. Go for a long, slow drive in the wrong direction then turn around like you're returning home but pass your exit, tricking yourself, you rascal, you.
Yup.
The name's Farnsworth. That's what you can call me now,
Farnsworth:
but say it like Tom Bosley on Murder She Wrote: "Farnsworth!?"
Go ahead. Say it aloud.
That's it; with an interrobang happy ending.
Let me introduce you to someone:
She's a real excitement-generator!
Yup.
That's what I'd call her.
Everyone, this is Brandy!
FFS, Farnsworth! Excitement-generator?
Okay, Hi. It's Brandi with an 'i', actually---
And Farnsworth, adding a Spudnut image to "Hungry Heart"?
Expect a letter from Bruce's lawyers and possible harassment from Reddit donut trolls.
And, yeah, The Boss and I are on a first name basis. He just doesn't know it.
Yet.
Whatever.
Soooo,
I manage the product and promo portions of the site like a mascot trainer for a team of benched capitalist adventure zombies.
There's a page for the Black Sparrow Press publication CUTTINGS FROM THE TANGLE, which dropped like a dead leaf December 8th 2020, just in time for the holidaze.
If you're into that...
I used to be;
long story.
The MUSIC page takes you to the Merge Records store.
"dents & shells" was re-issued on white vinyl November 22 2019, right before the you-know-what.
So, believe me, there's plenty of those left.
Last thing to mention here before I go to the breakroom
to make an avocado toast and Irish cream coffee on ice,
there's an empty EVENTS page as well, w/ links to either:
or
There's a Twitter account as well, but who cares?, so its not mentioned on the page.
Yeah, yeah; heart me, heart me... etc.
There might be some public soirées planned, depending how slowly the empire collapses.
There'd better be a junket or whatever at some point; websites don't pay for themselves.
At least, this one doesn't.
So, just check back in betwixt the breaking no-new-news and all the hell that won't break loose from casually-unmasked brunch table yelpers scrolling, swiping and sighing in contradictions as slavering anti-vaxers virally shoot their dick-gun blanks into their pig-protected heavens, do-si-do-ing in rapturous celebration of collective self-inflicted demise.
Come to think of it now, I'll make that Irish cream a double...
with free refills...
and a silly straw.
We'll let you know of any general announcements ahead of time if you sign up for the email list or you can also just follow along with the delayed timelines of the usual social media suspects as you lie in bed next to your lockdown cellmate numbly poking at the smartphone when you've run out of things to not talk about except when you flip it around to show a funny cat video or footage of a politician announcing they're stepping down from their dirty soapbox to spend more time with their family or board of directors.
It's why Jesus made Twitter.
Jeez, here:
JTBC, I don't do Twitter.
And Brandy/Brandi, doesn't even get "The River".
She's more of a "Nebraska"-type: dark & tense.
Just ask Farnsworth; they used to go out;
before he went by Farnsworth;
when he was just Kip.
What's Kip even short for?
Anyhoo, I don't have my own website.
I'm more of a brick & mortar guy.
Franchises everywhere.
Weekends are our busiest days.
Funny how destiny finds you:
My wood-shop biz went belly-up after some permit violations.
Turned out to be a miracle.
With the extra time on my hands I started throwing pop-up interventions and they really took off!
Nailed a good logo, lobbied for tax incentives and Behold!
Suddenly I'm a savior!
WTF!
If I can just interject...
Thanks, JC, but I'd like to upgrade for no commercials, okay?
Bye & bye, lord.
This is Fritz:
I'm Brandi & Kip's proof of a tryst that went on too long between Boxing Day eve and a New Years Day morning sloppy hangover some years back.
I might be a teenager but can't tell because of the make-up.
And, yeah, I'm half-Canadian. So, what?
I consider myself a deal-closer, but I'm somehow in charge of the CONTACT page.
For inquiries about CUTTINGS FROM THE TANGLE or music licensing or whatever your hang-up is, ya gotta go through me,
got it?
I sit at a little desk in an attic twiddling my clown-glove thumbs, just waiting.
It's a living.
I also live up there.
Like this Buckner character, I also write verse.
Mines's kinda dark shit, though. I'm working on a chapbook. Goth font. Self-published because fuck 'em. Not for children or conjoined-party moderates.
You might dig it.
If I may:
I'm a proud Spudnut (TBC, maple nut variety). Not sure what a Springsteen is.
Also, the clown freaks me out.