link>: 
I wrote an obituary for Brian that came out in this month’s Maximum Rock ‘n’ Roll magazine (March 2008 issue).
(Thank you Barbara Vaughan for the wonderful photo, and thank you Pat Libby for helping make this happen!)
A very cool guy named Torodd Eriksen from a town called Kirkenes (in Norway, on the Russian border) asked me to come tour the region with DIY or DIE and do Q&A and filmmaking seminars. He wrote me:
And after Kirkenes and Norway - you do the same thing in Russia. Russian societies are so hungry for artistic and political impulses. Generally speaking Russia is a safe country, but still it is one of the most unsafe countries for journalists. For that reason alone the skills and tools of citizen-journalism and documentation is very important in Russia……..
Beautiful sunny downtown Kirkenes:
I replied:
Three years ago I would have jumped to do this, and probably would have tried to meet a pretty girl there, get married, and stay.
However, now I’m married here, really happy, and feel I don’t want to travel in an unstable region where journalists get kidnapped. I basically believe I would be considered a “journalist” by some people, because I write for this well-known media company O’Reilly, for the O’Reilly Digital Media site:
http://www.oreillynet.com/pub/au/3220
How about this. Why don’t you tour this region in my stead, show DIY or DIE, keep the money, and you can bring a laptop and I’ll do a Skype Webcam question-and-answer period at each show? You can hook me up to the video projector, you’ll take questions from the audience, translate to English, ask me, I’ll answer, and you can translate back.
Much respect,
MWD
http://www.punktv.ca/?c=131&a=3124
Same is going to be printed in the upcoming issue of Maximum Rock ‘n’ Roll magazine.
MWD
Back when I was in college with Skip Lunch, in Jamestown, NY, Skip moved to Omaha, Nebraska (!) to “make it big in punk rock (!). He went to live with some women who ran a zine called BEEF, and played in a band with them. Band was called BEEF. HERE is a kick-ass 80s punk rock song by Skip with him on guitar and singing, called “Smell The Shit”. Check it out.
When Skip got back from Omaha, returned to the town he swore never to see again, I interviewed him on my college radio show on station WTJU. I said, excited, “So? How was it, man?” He replied, “Well, Michael….I slept on the floor a lot. Can I say ‘lesbian’ on the air?”
————
Here, in Skip’s own words, is the story:
The recording was done in a bedroom on an 8-track Tascam cassette recorder. (I thought surly Skip meant “Tascam 4-track”. I’ve never heard of an 8-track cassette recorder. He said, “Nope. 8-track. About 3 grand in 1982.”
Skip continues: I had a vision. Made 6 songs for a demo. Sent them to bars across the country and every night at 5:30 PM I’d break into _______’s dad’s business and use the office “Watts line” (old-school business phone line) to call all over the country. Then we travelled to the last gig in Portland …where the van died.
Here’s the thing: I approached the whole thing like an instant gestalt. I got a daily planner and went to work while I was on welfare in Jamestown sleeping on the couch in a 17-yr-old runaway rich kids house. From the moment I committed, it all JUST HAPPENED , like an EST forum or a “Create Your Dream” seminar or something. I mean, I formed the band at that moment for that purpose and then just MADE IT HAPPEN.
Oddly there was no pressure or stress, just inspiration and free phone calls!!! (I remember breaking and entering, very spiritual!) The point is, it was all done from conception to finale in 3 MONTHS!!! Completely positive energy just rocking the whole time, like MAGIC. I’m sure some of the members fell from the perfect grace along the way, but not much.. We rocked Portland along with bands like POND.
And actually the most intense thing was this…before the eureka moment , I asked myself “What do I want to do with my life?” “Dunno” I said to myself “Well if you can’t make a long-range plan, choose a short-term one, and by putting ENERGY into that, the future will reveal itself.”
Well, it did. In Portland at the end of the tour, I met a Jamestown friend from the early 10,000 Maniacs there and he was in acupuncture school. (I now do acupuncture) *bing0! Whole thing was the point in my life actually and inspirational too!
–Skip
P/S My guitar on that recording was later stolen from me from the building where I made my free phone calls. Karma rocks!
Debra Jean Dean reads the US Constitution:
http://www.debrajeandean.com/constitution/index.htm
Free Creative Commons audio book.
United States Constitution (with all amendments), read by Debra Jean Dean, engineered by Michael W. Dean
Audio file covered by Creative Commons, feel free to share and link.
“The best recording with the best voice of any free, non-DRM audiobook of
the US Constitution, anywhere.”
Beef People vinyl coming soon! read about it here.
The Beef People at Muldowney’s Pub in Charlottesville, Virginia, in 1985. Brian on voice, Willie on bass (looking 12), me on guitar (looking 16).
When our hardcore punk band the Beef People went into Inner Ear studio in 1985, we had a totally inspired slam-bam-thank-you-ma’am drive-by drive-through recording experience.We set up, Don Zientara twiddled some knobs and did a quick check, and we recorded a half hour of AMAZING sounding amazing punk rock.
Half of this ended up as our only record, a 7″ vinyl E.P. called “Music For Men” (on John Beers’ “Catch Trout Records” label). (Download here.) The other songs never saw the light of day. We considered releasing them as a second EP called “More Beef”, but it never happened. Drummer Jack Massey sent me a CD the other day, and I was so friggin’ happy! I haven’t heard these songs in over 20 years.
They’re GREAT!
I think they’re better than the stuff we put out on vinyl.
I’ve digitally remastered them, and put them online for free downloads.
Click to download the song “Lots”
Click to download the song “Industrial Jelly”
or, DOWNLOAD A ZIP OF THE WHOLE THING (15 meg zip of Mp3s)
(MP3s removed because a very cool UK record label, Damaged Records , are releasing VINYL of the Beef People EP, combined with the unreleased tracks, which are great.)
These nine new (old) tracks are:
Fetus In Formaldehyde
Industrial Jelly
Living in a Gas Chamber
Lots
Move It
Pavlov’s Dog
WTJU Beef Talk
Kicked Out (demo)
Kids Under 12 Eat Free (Demo)
The six tracks from the Inner Ear session are: “Fetus In Formaldehyde”, “Industrial Jelly”, “Living in a Gas Chamber”, “Lots”, “Move It”, “Pavlov’s Dog”.
I play guitar on the them. Brian Childers sang, Willie MacLean played bass, and Jack Massey played drums. In addition, Brian played paper cutter and I played keyboards on “Industrial Jelly”.
To the best of my recollection, the songs are about the grind of work (”Industrial Jelly”), air pollution (”Living in a Gas Chamber”), consumerism (”Lots”), conformity (”Pavlov’s Dog”), laziness (”Move It”), and having dark secrets (”Fetus In Formaldehyde”).
I did not play on the demos:
“Kids Under 12 Eat Free” and “Kicked Out” (Though I sang on “Kicked Out” on “Music For Men”.)
Jack says of these demos: “Either Rob (Buckingham, the first guitarist, who got kicked out of the boarding school for having a girl in his room) or Willie played guitar on “Kicked Out” and Childers sang. I think Willie played guitar, Brian played bass and sang on “Kids Under 12″. I wrote the music and lyrics (sophomoric to say the least-I couldn’t touch Childers in the lyric department). We recorded both at Blue Ridge on a Tascam 4-track cassette recorder. I remember recording Childers’ vocals in the large shower area for the reverb effect!”
The last track, “WTJU Beef Talk” is John Beers talking on the radio about the Beef People (and the show the band had upcoming with Social Distortion).
The Beef People at Muldowney’s Pub in Charlottesville, Virginia, in 1985. Some cute girl is checking me out. (Donna Bible, my girlfriend at the time.)
Brian plays dead at the Blue Ridge School. Beef People bass player Willie MacLean took this photo. It’s so awesome it should be in a museum.
left to right: Stephan Sadovic (friend of the band, student at Blue Ridge School), Brian, me. (taken at Blue Ridge School).
Happy ending photo.
left to right: Brian, Willie, Beef People friend Tony. (taken at Blue Ridge School, though it looks like it could have been at a council tenancy in london).
In addition to finding out my buddy Pete died, yesterday was my dead daughter’s birthday. She would have been 24.
On top of all this, our cat Charlie survived a coyote attack last week. I saw her in the coyote’s mouth, yelled, coyote dropped Charlie. Rushed to vet, no punctures, she’s doing OK:
The coyote attacked her about 40 feet from our front door. Good thing I’d gone out looking for her. Ten more seconds and she would have been dinner.
Amazing. Week.
I need a nap.
By the way, we used to let Charlie out in the day sometimes, but she snuck out at night when the beast caught her.
Charlie’s an indoor cat from now on, no matter how much she complains. She’s grounded for the rest of her life.
—-=
Follow-up, Feb 15: Charlie is FULLY recovered, and doing fine. She’s a little mellower, and doesn’t clamor to get outside any more. And we don’t let her. She really is grounded for the rest of her life.
But she’s happy and mellow, and even getting along better with our little Squittens. Charlie is even sleeping with Peanut now, though she still occasionally still hisses at Fuzzbucket McFluffernutter.
We’re SO glad Charlie made it!
MEW!
Just got this from Allison, who got it from Marie:
Subject: R.I.P Pete Matzdorff
Body: you might not know that Pete came down with the
leukemia in July. he fought it as hard as he could
but on mon. January 7 he lost his fight..
we will all miss him.
I do miss him.
Pete Matzdorff was my roommate in San Francisco for a year shortly after I got sober.
I didn’t like Pete all the time, but I did love him. And I felt a mystical connection to him because we were both born the same day and the same year.
Pete was a sexy, troubled, smart, punk rock body builder. Pete was a man’s man who worked on the docks in Hunter’s Point as a welder while everyone else I knew was either waiting tables or designing Websites for a living.
Guys wanted to be him, and girls wanted to be with him.
I saw him in LA about three years ago. He walked up to me from across the street, had seen me and recognized me. Out of the corner of my eye, as he walked up, I thought it was Henry Rollins.
Chatted a minute, he seemed happy to see me, asked for my phone number. I gave him my number, number, he never called.
Pete had his demons.
Jim Goad is my favorite writer. Hands down. I’ve only read one book by him, The Redneck Manifesto (Full title - The Redneck Manifesto: How Hillbillies, Hicks, and White Trash Became America’s Scapegoats, and I’ve read a few posts on his blog, but I love the guy.
There aren’t many books I’d consider reviewing ten years after they came out, and this one tops that very short list. I’ve read The Redneck Manifesto four times, and am reading it a fifth time now. I’ve bought about a dozen copies on Amazon (used, sorry Jim…like most of your readers, I can’t afford retail for luxury items), one at a time, and sent them to friends. I think this book is the most no-nonsense explanation of the history of the western world ever produced. (And it’s heavily annotated, if you wanna check the sources. I did. They checked out.) The Redneck Manifesto should be required reading in college, if not high school and grade school. (Though I’m sure that would lead to lawsuits.)
Many people consider The Redneck Manifesto to be a dangerous book…Racist even. I maintain that it is not racist at all (if anything, it’s anti-racist), but it is indeed dangerous, as are most less-than-popular truths.
There are a few basic premises of the book. First, that poor white people are the ONLY racial/ethnic/social group that it’s still OK to make fun of. That if you were a person in charge of a TV or movie studio, or the editor of a paper, and you treated Jews, blacks, lesbians, Mexicans, Asians or anyone else the way they treat rednecks on TV and in movies, you’d lose your job. Many examples are given, but one of my favorites is that newspapers (including the New York Times) often spell out southern white speech phonetically in interviews and articles to show the accent. If you did that with Ebonics, you’d be fired, and probably sued.
Goad goes on to give a pretty compelling argument of why white guilt for slavery is a crock. At least poor white guilt. Says that the descendants of plantation slave owners are far more likely to drive BMWs than pickup trucks. And maintains that white indentured servants suffered as much, often more, and in greater numbers, than black slaves. (Indentured servants were not owned, and were whipped harder, sort of the way people beat the shit out of rental cars, but not cars they themselves own.)
This is stuff that’s basically true, but makes people want to kill you when you say it out loud. Which is a sort of racism on it’s own. It’s OK for any group to bemoan their past, except poor whites.
He states that white people are blamed for everything, but as a poor white man, as is with a poor man of any color, he has no control over the policies of his government, the media, or his ancestors.
He writes that questioning economic policies he has no control over is often looked at as racist, even when it’s not. He says that the questioning world banking (a concept so fucked and complex that many it takes an advanced degree to even begin to understand it) is not anti-semitic, it’s just anti-getting ripped off. He says that suggesting welfare reform is not racist, it’s just about money. He states: “I don’t want to pay for anyone’s baby, no matter what the color.”
Goad contends that racial prejudice has its current and historical basis in rich whites wanting to keep poor whites and poor blacks divided and fighting…That if poor blacks and poor whites realized that race wars are all bullshit and banded together, they would be a majority, and could take over the world, possibly in a very bloody manner for the rich whites.
Goad points out that rich whites find it easy to be politically correctly racially sensitive because they live in mostly-white gated communities. They don’t have to deal with black rage because it can’t reach them. And that rednecks and white working stiffs have always lived in neighborhoods that are far more racially integrated than the rich whites who poo poo the rednecks for noticing that race exists. Says that while there are no more segregated water fountains, people still are, and always will be, segregated along the color GREEN.
Goad says again and again, in funny and eloquent ways, what I feel is a very important simple truth: It’s not about race, it’s about class.
I love this part:
For all the showboat sympathy that the white middle and upper classes display toward black suffering, they don’t spend much time living or working alongside their downtrodden jungle bruddas. The redneck truck driver and the black gas-pumper share more life experiences than either guy shares with the corduroy-jacketed college professor or perfume-stinking society matron whose tear ducts gush with self-serving weepiness over abstract notions of injustice.
and:
Both Martin Luther King and Malcom X were shot to the ground at a time when they seemed to be transcending narrow white/black divisions and phrasing the battle in class terms.
Goad talks about how there aren’t many great working-class writers because the working class is too damn busy working to write.
I love this, because I lived it. It was harder than eating nails to launch my professional writing career while holding a day job. I had to work hard 60 hours a week in the evenings and weekends while still working 40 hours a week for over a decade. My dad couldn’t just write a check to send me to an expensive journalism school.
(My siblings went to good colleges, but parents took out second and third mortgages to send them, and kids took out loans.
(My parents were farmers until the year I was born. My family looked middle class, but were struggling.)
True to his name, Goad (which is his real name), loves to goad the reader. Some of it has a bit of a “a Modest Proposal” feel, especially the title of chapter ten: “Several Compelling Arguments for the Enslavement of All White Liberals”, which is actually one of my favorite chapters, even though I don’t favor the enslavement of anyone. And don’t think Goad does either.
I love Goad because he’s got a lot to say, but just wants to be left alone. I can dig it. He and I are both widely read people who both probably have a better day when our phones don’t ring. Goad complains about society because he doesn’t comfortably fit in to what it expects of him. One of my favorite lines in the book nails this well:
Interracial dating doesn’t bother me, but the very concept of dating does.
The Redneck Manifesto is all stunningly great. It’s amazing writing about amazing thoughts, and I highly recommend you buy the book today….Especially if you’re rich…buy ten copies, new, and hand them out at the country club.
Come January 1, 2008, France will extend its ban on smoking to bars, discotheques, restaurants, hotels, casinos and cafes.
It’s the end of the world, and I feel sick.
(Photo of Brian Childers by Barbara Vaughn. Used with permission)
Well, I just finished writing an obit for Brian that’s going to be in Maximum Rock ‘N’ Roll magazine. Was the third hardest thing I’ve ever written (after my daughter’s obit and my mother’s obit.)
So, let’s party. Put some Brian music on your pod and rock out for life.
The Beef People EP, “Music For Men”: DOWNLOAD THE RECORD
(Most of the MP3s removed because a very cool UK record label, Damaged Records , are releasing VINYL of the Beef People EP, combined with the unreleased tracks, which are great.)
Click to download the Beef People song “Lots”
Click to download the Beef People song “Industrial Jelly”
Other music that Brian sings on:
>>Brian is also the voice saying “I’m happy all the time”, and he does the scream right after that on the Bomb song “Power of Suggestion” on the Warner Brothers Bomb record, Hate Fed Love. MP3 of that song is here.
>>Two songs by Drooler, the band Brian sang with in Berlin (he sang under the name “Brian St. Brian”): King of the Coal Mine and One Night on the SS Bahn
I’m still trying to get a hold of some Crawlpappy.
Love,
MWD
here: http://punktv.ca/?c=105&a=2932
Me interviewed recently, on a day that I was in fine form. On PunkTV.ca (great site.)
excerpt:
PunkTV.ca: How did you create natural and essential elements of story telling in your process?
MWD: I didn’t consciously know anything about storytelling, but I was always the kid when I smoked pot when I was twelve and all of the older kids would get me high so I could tell them stories. I was always someone people listened to because I could but a paragraph together on the spot. But I had never heard of three-act format, I’d never heard of it and since I’ve heard of it I’ve come to like it but at the same time I have lots of problems with it. We had a cut of two hours and 70 minutes, and they both just dragged on, so we felt that 55 minutes was where the film wanted to be, but I think that really the format of it is less of film making and more of an essay – basically this movie is a mission statement while the people in it kind of float by, and then there are six chapters, and they kind of start with the problem being stated and then people give their take on the problem. I guess it is kind of three-act format, but I feel that is follows more of a twelfth grader’s essay.
Photos of Brian Childers, my friend who recently passed away. Photos by Barbara Vaughan, used with permission.
————–
Brian in 1985
————–
Brian (middle) in front of CBGBs in 1988
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Brian (left) with cute girls (Barbara Vaughn on far right)
————–
Brian (left) in 1990
————–
Brian in cool creepy makeup while in Bomb.
————–
Brian eats the worm.
————–
My good friend and old roommate, Kurt Shute; Greg Johnston, Brian Childers.
—
(click here if you are over 18 to see this photo, it’s got Jay’s dick in it.)
Brian when he was in Bomb. L to R, Michael Dean, Tony Fag, Brian Childers, Jay Crawford.
——-
Obit I wrote for Brian is here.
Guestbook for Brian, put up by his friend Dave, is here.
Edgar Ivan Carranza (”Eddy Sky” to friends) was my good friend, and a was a roadie/go go dancer on tour for my band Bomb.
Eddie died of AIDS in 1995.
I am really missing him today for some reason.
Eddy was a really sweet guy. Great painter. Smart. Funny. Very beautiful. Very bisexual. And loved pleasure in all its forms. Including needle drugs.
His grandfather was the president of Mexico:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mexican_Revolution#Venustiano_Carranza
Eddy told me that his grandfather’s heart is in a clay jar in a museum in Mexico City.
Here’s a song I wrote for Eddy:
http://www.kittyfeet.com/lil25.htm
http://www.kittyfeet.com/stuff/little25.mp3
It’s got an answering machine message from Eddy at the end of it. Telling me to come visit before he dies. I did.
Here’s the list of dead people I know:
BOMB STORIES FROM BACK IN THE DAY, WITH JEFF RAMON, RABID BOMB FAN!
Thur, 29 Nov 2007
Michael W. Dean visits with his dear old friend Jeff Ramon in Phoenix. They talk about the early days of Bomb, seeing Bomb open for horrible metal band ‘Flotsom and Jetsam’ in Chicago, and people wanting to kill Bomb, people (including Jefff) stealing Bomb records, Jeff seeing Bomb play with Toxic Reasons in Palatine Illinois in 1988, Michael and the crazy stuff he did on tour, Jay Crawford trying to warn young Jeff about how being a Bomb might ruin his life, Tony being “the band Hitler”, some amusing Bad Brains stories, GE Smith, how to get Spin Magazine to write about your band at an empty show, why you shouldn’t beg for an encore…..and how it all worked out in the end for Jeff and for Michael.
Entire episode recorded on location with the Zoom H2 portable handy recorder.
From the Clone The Homeless podcast.
Today, as part of our honeymoon, Debra Jean and I drove on a whim to the Grand Canyon. It took almost four hours each way from where we’re staying near Phoenix, and was TOTALLY worth it.
The Canyon is awesome, and I’ve never seen it before. DJ has been there, but not as an adult.
We loved every minute of the day.
There’s a few pix here on StinkFight, but the rest of them are at
http://www.debrajeandean.com/GrandCanyonWeb/grand.htm
I know it sounds like a cop-out, but I don’t really have any words to describe the awesomeness of the day. I’m speechless. And the pix speak for themselves.
Me representin’ for my homies, The Echo Park Film Center.
Me representin’ for my homies, The O’Reilly Digital Media site
Jesus, I’ve had two friends younger than me die in the past two months. I’m depressed about it, depressed about the loss of Brian and of Liza, and don’t really have the energy to write an obit for Brian that does him justice, but….
Brian Childers was a great guy. Met him in Charlottesville, Virginia 1984 when I started playing guitar in his band, The Beef People. We stayed in touch, and he later moved to New York and was in the popular hardcore band, Crawlpappy. At some point, Brian joined my band Bomb for one tour, singing some and playing bass some, to free me up to just sing.
Brian lived in the Red Hook section of Brooklyn, which is literally the Last Exit To Brooklyn, and the setting of the novel and movie by the same name. Rough place. Last time I saw him (when Bomb played at CBGBs and was recording with Laswell at Greenpoint Brooklyn in 1990), we stayed at Brian’s house (directly across from the Red Hook Projects, the largest housing projects in the world, and a damn dangerous place to be). Brian showed me the spot three blocks from his home where some kid had shot him through the shoulder from a distance for target practice. He thought the kid was aiming for his head and missed. Brian was a tough motherfucker, and sweet as hell.
I am told Brian died of kidney failure.
Brian died last Saturday, November 17th, 2007, in Washington DC. I’ve confirmed this with two friends of his, including Rick from Crawlpappy.
Photo at top of Brian from six years ago sent to me by J Braltar. Thanks man! More photos of Brian are here.
(I have been trying to find Brian on the Internet for a few years, and don’t have a photo more recent than the one below, of me playing guitar and him singing, in the Beef People in 1985. If anyone has a more recent photo, please e-mail it to me and I’ll post it.)
Every month we pull out our couches and vacuum under them.
These photos show what awaited us yesterday…..A cornucopia of cat toys, both store bought and improvised.
Wife: “I’ve been LOOKING for that bobbin!”
Whenever you’re dealing with the “biz” or a “mogul”, and they say something like “I really like your demo, I think we could do business”….Ask them, “Which song do you like best, and what do you like about it?”
(Or if you’re a writer, ask them which character they like, or if you’re a filmmaker, which scene they like.)
The reason is this: Businesspeople often sign bands they don’t understand. This isn’t always a bad thing…Sometimes the person who gives you a good deal but looks at your art simply as “units shipped” can do a better job marketing it then then well-intended person who loves art but doesn’t understand business. But it’s good to be able to tell if the person you’re dealing with really “gets” you. It will help you make better decisions.
When Bomb was getting courted by the majors, a guy from Atlantic records told us he really liked our music. When we asked, “Which song do you like?”, He said “You know, the one about….um…..girls.”
MWD
(Post on Web forum board of Cavern Club, a very cool bar in the city of Exeter, UK where I showed DIY or DIE. Post is some punker’s response to the club owner posting my “DIY or DIE on Zune” press release. Below the punker’s response is my response to him.)
———————
edx wrote: Am I missing something here?
I presume the films makers at the very least empathise with the subject they are documenting? Actively choosing to hand this over to a multi national like Microsoft hardly seems inline with what I imagine the subject of this film to be.
The film itself might be available for free but it’s not being hosted by Microsoft for any reason other than to help shift some corporate product.
Hey! Maybe this is some sort of ironic comment on the relationship between DIY and corporate ideals circa 2007?!?
——-
Michael W. Dean replied: This is a ridiculous statement. And these sentiments are usually posted by someone who lives with their parents, or eats out of a dumpster. And the poster was usually six years old when I started putting out my own records booking my own tours.
I’ve been defending this film for five years.
I made this film to share art and to reach people, not to make money. And no money was exchanged in either direction with Microsoft (they got content, I got hits.)
And for what it’s worth, Microsoft came to me, I did not go to them.
I made money at the film over the past five years, but put it most of it back into promoting the film. (Not that there’s anything wrong with making money, but personally, after food and shelter, I basically spend all my money on art supplies, and on getting my art out to the world.)
(I toured US and Europe with the film, among other things, to bring it to the people. Showed it at Cavern Club too, had a blast. Thanks guys!)
I’ve replied to this “punker than thou” accusation at length, by the way.
Here:
http://www.stinkfight.com/2007/11/13/punker-than-thou/ (post “Punker than thou”)
and here:
http://tinyurl.com/39u6ur
Here is a list of the artists in my film who are selling their songs on the Zune Marketplace: Mike Watt, Fugazi, Lydia Lunch, Dave Brockie (in Gwar), J Mascis, Madigan Shive (in Bonfire Madigan), Steve Albini (in Big Black), Lynn Breedlove (in Tribe 8 ), J.G. Thirlwell (as Foetus) and Eric McFadden.
They are all selling their songs on Apple’s iTunes store too, except Steve Albini (though the record he engineered for Nirvana is certainly on there.)
I had nothing to do with getting these artists on either site, but none of these folks are fools. (Which is why I chose to interview them.)
All these artists’ songs, on both sites, are encoded with DRM (Digital Rights Management) restrictions. And are for sale.
Not that I feel there’s anything wrong with selling music, I do it myself with my own songs.
But note: I am GIVING away “DIY or DIE” for FREE, in NEAR DVD QUALITY, with NO DRM.
————————
All of “DIY or DIE” is also free on YouTube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rDE5vvs1WxY
–Michael W. Dean
Director, “DIY or DIE: How To Survive as an Independent Artist”
The new dedication for the update of “$30 Film School”:
——————
To my daughter Amelia Laine Worth,
The only shows I watch are “Cops” and “The Colbert Show”. “Cops” doesn’t have writers, so it’s still airing. But I needed my daily dose of the man who will lead our Nation to victory, so I bought his book I Am America, and So Can You!
It’s pretty damn funny.
I especially liked the line “Upper-middle class is a meaningless term created by the Upperclass to keep the Middle class from joining with the Lower class when the revolution comes.”
And for you Chinaphiles in StinkFight land, the disclaimer on the back of the book reads:
WANING! Several reportages of illegal produced issues of this book from Glorious Peoples Republic of China stealing into bookstores. Do not! Buy only likely copies only authorized STEPHEN COLBER’S I AM AMERICA AND SO ARE YOU books like this one itself!
-Yours, U.S.A. Publisher
I got an e-mail from the company today casually asking out of the blue if I could compile all of my updates for the next printing by, oh, say….Friday.
It’s not a new edition, just little touch ups of the second edition, but there’s always a lot of them. People move, people die, Web addresses change, software gets updated, etc.
I’m busier this week than a long-tailed cat in a room fulla rocking chairs.
But that’s what they call “a quality problem”……..I’m damn happy. It sure beats having nothing to do, and I’ve done that before.
(Photo of me with Amelia, July 2, 2006, Echo Park)
(More pix of Amelia, some talking I did right after she died, and her obituary.)
My daughter, Amelia Laine Worth, died November 7th, 2006, from complications of leukemia. She was 22. She was an amazingly wonderful person.
It’s been a tough year for me. I’m sleeping more now, but still having troubling dreams and trouble sleeping a full eight hours.
But I’m hopeful. There’s not a lot to say that I can fit in a blog post, so I’ll just say I’m not despondent. I’m thinking a lot about Amelia, but am going through the routine of a semi-normal, if very introspective, day.
(I wanted to share with my friends on here about this. Feel free to reply on here, but except for family, I ask that you please not call me on the phone about this today. I’m having a OK day considering, and it’s honestly not going to make me feel better to talk on the phone about it. It might make you feel better, but it might make me feel worse. Thank you very much.)
I petted my cat Charlie today, and thought about how Amelia loved Charlie, and how much she loved cats.
I’ve decided to reprint here a few e-mails here that Amelia wrote.
The messages are personal, but not intimate in any way I think Amelia would have found embarrassing to share. I mulled it over, prayed on it, and also ran it by my spiritual adviser (Debra Jean).
I just want to share a bit of Amelia’s sparkly spirit here. These e-mails are from right before Amelia got very very sick.
I saw her again after this, and was about to fly up and see her again when she died.
—————————
7/2/2006
Hey Dad,
I had a great time hanging out with you two today! I can’t stress how much I enjoyed your new movie. I feel like for a while now I’ve just been surviving, getting to the next dr’s appt, the next class, trying to survive and trying to graduate and not focusing on the little things…I guess in the overarching things, you know, not the day to day.
And maybe it’s the day to day that I feel that’s getting lost, even though I’m making my art, and growing, and creating, and doing what I need to do, you know? But really, the movie put it all in perspective. Reminded me not to be so fucking selfish. I’m not the only one in the world that will overcome hardcore stuff. It really struck a chord with me that a lot of people mentioned that he looked like he was on his dying bed for like fifty years and you can still live, create, survive tragedy and bullshit like that and come out a really great and powerful little buddha man.
I thought all this today watching the movie but didn’t have time to tell it all to you in person and besides, it’s all still stuff I’m going through and trying to sort through and it just didn’t seem the time or the place. So these are all kind of jumbled thoughts as I sit in a room with four other people listening to AFI blasting from computer speakers. But mostly I just wanted to let you know that I really dug the movie and it was a bittersweet reminder that life is worth a lot more than I may give it credit for when I’m bummed about cancer.
Anyway, yeah. DJ seems like a super rad sweet gal and I’m really excited for you. You two compliment each other a lot and she seems to have calmed and centered you in a way I’ve seen no one else be able to - all without damaging your radness or ruining your grooviness. I really hope nothing but the best for you both and was super happy to meet her. She’s nifty.
Anyway, I really am glad that we got to kick it today. Thank you so much for dinner and ducks and the observatory and everything.
love,
amelia
====
8/4/2006
hey Dad. sorry I didn’t answer your call today, the doctors were in here. Here’s what I wrote in my blog today which basically sums up the last few days:
First off, YAY! I’m in remission!…but they still wanna do another biopsy in a week because there’s like…1-2% blasts still present. But isn’t under 10% in remission? Whatever.
Apparently I’m an anatomical anomaly. That bronchioscopy thingie that I had? Apparently I have like, an extra bronchial tube thingie in my lungs. So…cool. Right? haha right.
I had the spinal tap yesterday, and of course it was clean. Those fools. The doctor who did it looked like she wasn’t even legal and when I asked her how many spinal taps she’d actually done, she was like “less than ten.” Um…1? 2? 3?…9? And then she didn’t use enough lidocain to begin with. It turned out okay, except for this FUCKING HEADACHE that I’ve had all day today. Gooooooooooo morphine!
so…yeah. Have a fun time at DJ’s!
love,
amelia
“Dream as if you’ll live forever, live as if you’ll die today,” James Dean
====-
8/15/2006
I may or may not be out for a few days as soon as we get this stupid infection under control. I’d like some time alone during that time, if that’s okay. I don’t know when I’ll be back in the hospital, but when I know, I will let you know. You will be welcome to come then.
love,
amelia
“Dream as if you’ll live forever, live as if you’ll die today,” James Dean
====-
8/22/2006
those are great pix! I’m glad you had a good time.
I’m still not going to be admitted because of the infection. I’m kind of bummed and kind of relieved. I’m staying in Portland since I have more appointments later this week. Andy’s stayed with me during the weekend, but he has to work, so kym came up. Not much else is new. 
love,
amelia
“Dream as if you’ll live forever, live as if you’ll die today,” James Dean
====-
I joked to the wife tonight that “if I were put under house arrest, I wouldn’t notice.”
Also, my attention span for most things outside my head is very limited. Here’s an example:
Every night before the wife goes to bed, we turn off the phone and put it on the charger. If I’m busy, I’ll ask her to do it. Turning the phone off makes a sound like it’s ringing. But in the 30 seconds it takes her to walk into the other room and turn it off, the creative conversation in my head forgets I asked her to do it, so when I hear the phone ringing sound, I always think someone’s calling.
Yet despite my brain working like this (or perhaps because of it), I am able to do all the damn nifty things I’m able to do creatively.
Debra Jean is not only my wonderful partner in life, she keeps my brains from figuratively leaking out my ears, so I’m free to work.
I just got word that my friend Liza passed away from complications from treatment for Leukemia.
She was a great person, a wonderful dancer and had a really sparkly personality. Quick-witted, sharp mind and I really dug her.
Meh.
I hadn’t had an e-mail from her in a while, and just got the news.
She’s in DIY or DIE. I’ll upload her extras segment today.
MWD
Thurs, 25 Oct 2007
YUP! IT’S BEEN ONE YEAR TODAY!
EPISODE 55
976-BeckyChat! (3)
Michael W. Dean and Debra Jean Dean have a chat with our special little friend, Becky Haycox. (Part 3 of 4)
Checking out womens’ racks over your wife’s shoulder, sexism, ominsexual people, San Francisco, how to deal with your boyfriend working at a strip club, feminist strippers, couples who like the same pornography, taking your girlfriend on a date to see the strippers, why women like romance in their sex, other ways that women differ from men, why these chicks hate male bashing, sleeping with more than one person without being a slut, how to get rid of a panhandler, why there’s no such thing as spare change, seeing the Sex Pistols in San Antonio on January 8, 1978 at Randy’s Rodeo, Pink Floyd never murdered anyone, Syd Barrett rocks, and how to freak out the youth of today.
Photos of the day here.
Entire episode recorded on location on the street in Ventura, California on the Zoom H2 portable handy recorder.
My dad just sent me another cool thing connected with John Eddy being flim-flammed in the oil scam. It’s a letter that John wrote from a mental hospital in Los Angeles to his sister Ida (my great aunt, who lived with us when I was a little kid.)
My dad said John was shell shocked from WW I, and ended up in the sanatarium. The letter is rather paranoid, talking about the different times someone tried to poison him to get his land.
I don’t think the letter was ever mailed, it was in this envelope (note three-cent stamp.)
The envelope is pre-addressed to one of the companies that was ripping him off. (It was probably a pre-paid envelope to make his monthly “land development” payments with.)
By the way, I talked to my buddy John Murphey at the New Mexico historical society today, he’s going to be the Los Angeles area this weekend and may be able to come over to get the papers and have dinner. Yay!
Here’s the letter:
Instead of bragging all the time about how cool it is to be a privileged White-boy in Red China, this kid quit teaching English and took a job here in a local barbershop. Why? He wanted to see for himself what the lives of the Chinese people are really like. Bravo! I now step down from my yellowed ivory tower to present:
BEN, a Midwesterner in the middle Kingdom. http://www.benross.net/wordpress/?p=56
He crunches some numbers and makes some interesting comparisons:
Teaching English in China: 919 hours per year (230 work days)
American job: 1936 hours per year (242 work days)
Job in Chinese barbershop: 3542 hours per year (322 work days)
So there you have it. My job in the barbershop requires me to put in almost twice the hours I would put in had I been working in the US and nearly 4 times the amount of hours I would have put in as an English teacher in China, not to mention that it also requires nearly 100 more work days per year as well.
If I were to work at the barbershop for one year, making 600 RMB per month and accounting for the first month going unpaid, my hourly rate would be 1.86 RMB per hour. That comes out to a walloping 24.47 cents per hour.
http://www.benross.net/wordpress/?p=56
Song for my sweet, departed daughter.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RqZNMO3oIdc
Song I sang for my daughter, Amelia Laine Worth shortly after her death from Leukemia last year. Haven’t been able to listen to this song I sang it in memory of my daughter, Amelia Laine Worth shortly after her death from Leukemia last year.
Finally listened to it again yesterday. And today I went up on a hill, recorded another track of vocals. Wife held the camera, I edited the video. I like it a lot. Made me cry, and that made me feel better.
JESUS, I miss my daughter.
—-
Song: “Hallelujah” by Leonard Cohen.
Arrangement: Jeff Buckley.
Arrangement: Michael W. Dean.
Vocal: Michael W. Dean.
Drums, guitar, bass and organ: Cliff Truesdell.
Pedal steel guitar: Charlie Kramer.
For those of you in China, or who just want a better-looking encode than the YouTube, here’s the 85-meg file. (right click to save.)
A couple years ago my gave dad me the deed to two parcels of land in Kenna, New Mexico (Roosevelt County). This land is fairly worthless in a monetary sense. It’s assessed at a total of 1200 bucks. I pay 7 dollars a year tax on it. I’ve never been there.
But the story behind the land is priceless.
The two lots belonged to my deceased great uncle, John Eddy, of Jamestown, New York (where I went to college.) John died in the 60s. He got the land in some oil scam that ended up taking a lot of money from him.
I knew John’s sister, my Aunt Ida, who was sweet and senile when she stayed with us, when she was very very old and I was very very young. I clearly remember her putting envelopes in the freezer, thinking she was mailing letters to her dead brother.
She influenced me in a way. She was often very “spacey” (her words), and made me feel that it was OK to think and say strange things.
Anyway, a company called The Dalies Oil Company sold land and stock to war vets (among others) like my uncle. Then they milked the “investors” for their money in frequent requests for continuing payments to “develop the land and drill for oil.”
My dad also gave me about ten pounds of wonderful papers connected with this land, stock certificates, newspaper clippings, maps, and much of the correspondence between John Eddy and this Los Angeles-based scam company.
Among the papers are hand-typed postcards that the company sent each month to the “investors”, talking about how well the oil search was going, how many feet down they’d drilled, what new equipment they needed to purchase, the frequent snags they ran into, how much more money they needed to complete the important work, and of course, how they were still absolutely positive they were going to make everyone rich.
The notes are so over the top that I doubt any actual drilling was ever done.
I don’t know what I’m ever going to do with the land, and have had no plans for the huge pile of musty documents. I’ve thought about writing a sort of docu-drama movie and using my great uncle’s misfortune at the beginning of the oil boom as a parallel for what’s happening now as the oil starts to run out. But probably not.
My wife and I did write a cartoon script (called “The Plump Buffet”) that will most likely never be produced, that takes place on the land. It’s about a sex cult run by cats.
When I phoned up the Roosevelt County clerk to find out how to transfer the title from my dad to me, she seemed to think it was hilarious that a father in New York was giving this worthless New Mexico land to a son in Los Angles. I think she figured us both for city slickers. I had several calls with her and she always seemed pretty jolly about the whole situation.
I asked her what I’d have to do to build out there. She said, “Well, first you’ll need to scrape the land with a backhoe to get rid of the rattlesnakes.” I asked her what permits I’d need. She laughed and replied, “You don’t need permits. You can do whatever you want out there. If the neighbors don’t like it, they’ll just shoot you.”
The population of Kenna proper is “estimated at less than 25 people.”
(Google satellite image of Kenna)
John Eddy also owned oil-scam land in Valencia county, New Mexico that actually ended being sold for a lot of money to build a mall. Unfortunately, the lazy bank my dad put in charge of paying the taxes defaulted and my family lost that land.
This oil scheme bilked John Eddy out of a lot of money, a few bucks at a time, over a decade.
No oil was ever found. The whole thing reminds me of a Nigerian e-mail scam, but from the 1950s. And John Eddy ended up in a mental hospital.
My brother James pointed out “These people were able to continue this scam, simply because in those pre-commercial airplane days, no one went there to check on it.”
OK….Here’s the really fun part. I got an e-mail the other day from an old friend named John Murphey. Cool cat, we played music together in the Bay Area right before I formed Bomb. He found me after 20 years, while searching info on the H2 digital audio recorder. He plans to get one to use for recording interviews on his job, which just happens to be as a state historian for New Mexico.
John Murphey wrote:
I startled when you mentioned John Eddy; I thought you were related to THE JOHN EDDY, the big-shot cattle baron who once owned half of SE New Mexico. Your life may have been a little different if your great uncle was cattleman, John Eddy. Land/oil scams were big in the 1930-50s. You are actually the second person of our age to tell me they own worthless land in Kenna. Yeah, I’ve been there and helped the community write a history on the sole surviving commercial building - the grand Midway Service Station. An extract of that narrative appears on the State Historian’s web site:
http://www.newmexicohistory.org/filedetails_docs.php?fileID=21168
Do you have the exact coordinates or lat/longs for the land? Does it have an access easement? Can I camp there? Send me the screenplay.
Attached are some pics I took of Kenna’s Hi-Lonesome landscape.
I wrote him back:
I forgot to tell you the best thing in the collection of John Eddy papers that I have. A big fold-out map of the ground plan for Kenna, with lot numbers, and street names like “Oak” and “Elm”. It looks like a map of an existing town, which may be what they were telling people on both coasts as they sold them the dry swampland.
Also, THE John Eddy (rich cattle dude) was no relation, but my dad says my great-grandfather invented the cattle chute, and some neighbor stole the idea under him and patented it.
—-
I have wondered what I’m going to do with the two lots. I registered the domain name TimeShareFromHell.com two years ago, but let it expire this year.
Maybe I’ll just content myself with being a proud member of the landed gentry, keep mailing in my seven dollars a year in tax, and know that when California starts falling into the sea, me and the wife will have a place we can go camp.
—-
So the upshot is that John Murphey asked if the State of New Mexico could have my John Eddy papers. As nifty as the collection is for me to have, I’m probably going to donate it, as it’s a lot more useful in the hands of a state historical society than in a box the back of my closet.
Link to a bunch of photos and scans from the John Eddy file.
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(This is a response to “…Living on Chinese ROCK! [pt 4 on “Skip Lunch on/in China”]“), but I thought I’d start a new stink, as I’m sort of splitting this into a different stinky direction:
Stephen Deng Says:
“…..Oh, Stinkfight! so does mr.Cheetah makes sound prescription (Why you #3). To constitute funny happy blog can try your best on “life style” exactly, e.g. gear, self-promotion, BDDSSM…..”
—-
Michael W. Dean replies:
I love this passage, Deng. Your north-of-the-border yankee chinglish makes for some unintentionally poetic and random beauty. (Sometimes I wonder if you, and maybe also Mr. Denisson, are not in reality Boston-born PHDs laughing while running drunken ramblings through “AltaVista - Babel Fish Translation” into Chinese [or Greek] and back to English again, just to pull my leg.)
Yet your words contain more truth than those of many who were razed hear. You see, I make a lot of “Notes to myself for things to do in the future.” Some end up as books, songs, films, software programs, TV shows, photos or blogs loved by thousands. Many others end up in my trash.
But last night I grabbed a napkin and wrote a quick yet important outline, one that will be realized and affect the world in a big way: “Mission statement for the Dean Foundation“, ideas for the non-profit I will start with my millions near the end of my life. The main focuses of this tax-free organization will be:
Mission statement for the Dean Foundation:
1. Preserve and spread all the art of Michael W. Dean (which may or may not include the PodBot)
2. Help people who rescue, care for and spay/neuter cats.
3. Help young starving artists by giving them one-time grants to pay their rent for three to twelve months.
4. Help spread understanding for compassionate/healthy BDSM.
See, Deng, you got Dean figured to a “T”!
Keep on stinkin’ on.
–Xenophobically yours,
Michael W. Dean (Master of cats, electrical gear, art, BDSM, and self-promotion.)
(Helios checks his e-mail. Photo by Michael Dean)
I wrote a song this week called “Alien Symptom.” It’s very much in (my interpretation) of the style of my friend/hero/influence Helios Creed. Helios heavily influenced Ministry, Butthole Surfers and Flaming Lips, among others.)
I played drum loops, bass guitar, keyboards, and sang. Charlie Kramer played the guitar (over the Internet, and e-mailed me the files.) Mix is still a little rough, but I like the song and the singing.
I’ve never really tried to write / play / sing / produce in someone else’s style, but this came very naturally, and I like the results.
I’m especially proud of the lyrics. And they’re are about being scared late at night and contemplating my own mortality, something I tend to do occasionally between, oh, 2 AM and 6 AM or so, especially when the wife’s asleep and the cats are being crazy and it’s very very quiet.
(Video we made for the song is here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=InugVk1bxxM )
Here’s the lyrics:
Alien symptom -
feed the parasite
alien symptom -
complete the path tonight.
Feed the little parasite
complete all the paths all right.
Neuro-illogical restructuring
dressing room Mabuhay gardens
we shared a glass of sleep.
Alien symptom -
spaces between the light.
alien symptom -
Forgive the fortune of the night.
Access interrupted for
authentication protocol
speak to me
in silent terr0r-bytes.
File is offline
attribute missing
isolation modules in
synaptic silicon.
Feedback loop of
late-night protocol
crystal membrane landscapes tell the truth
in forgotten pentathol.
So to further convince y’all that the PRC is way happening, I’d like to tell more about the local music scene here in Beijing, China. Besides shamelessly plugging my own punk band, Y0u MeI Y0u, and my Surf group The CLAMPS!,.. today’s offering include ALL the links you need to get a taste of this New Music Mecca. [second only to Berlin] Here goes:
http://www.myspace.com/chinamusicnetwork
Industrial music pioneer Martin Atkins of PIL, PIGFACE etc.. came a ’scouting and snapped up SNAPLINE, who play darkish electro-punk. See him making a new PIGFACE record in Beijing, and also see these Chinese kids recording with him in Chicago.
http://www.myspace.com/beijinghangonthebox
The cutest girl punk band ever! They were on the cover of Newsweek magazine [the one with Chairman Mao], unfortunately their use of swear words got their Visas revoked and they were unable to tour….just when they were gonna break. However, NPR just played them yesterday. Podcast @ http://www.npr.org/programs/asc/
Be sure to check out the US tour video..at the singers myspace. http://www.myspace.com/giagia
http://www.myspace.com/rebuildingtherightsofstatues
One of my post-punk favorites ever. I first saw them at a Joy Division tribute show, and their set was truly Sp00ky. They nailed it. The Chinese JD, for sure.
http://www.myspace.com/carsickcars
This 19 year old kid started a Beijing NO WAVE movement, emulating the late 70’s NY avant-garde scene and ENO produced record “No New York”. Soon after this, he was flown to NYC to play with Glenn Branca and Elliot Sharp. They just got back from touring with Sonic Youth. I mean how cool is that? His pure noise side project [Produced by Blixa of Einsturzende Neubauten] is here:
http://www.myspace.com/whitebeijing
D-22 Club is the CBGB’s of Beijing , really. Lots of bands play 5 nights a week, the music is incredibly diverse, and the place just drips with the BUZZ.
Here are some good articles about the D-22 scene from the soundman at the
club: http://www.myspace.com/lveus
My Band The CLAMPS! played there once, and we cant wait to do it again. Check us out :
Download episode 0059
