Send This To Ten Other Bloggers That You Think Are Wonderful. Keep The Game Going, Make Someone Smile!!!

oh something is definitely up

with regards to distractions, do you think we should send emails to the same address?

if so, what would be better: things that the entity only half-understands, or things it fully understands? if, that is, we're right about what it is.

Yes! That should help tons. I don't have personal experience in communicatin' with the thing, so whichever option causes more of a pain -- I know when I get a headache, there's no tellin' up from down and right from left! I mean, I don't get headaches often. But I'm guessin' that's how it'd feel!

Though if you don't wanna hurt it, I understand --if you want, you could grab its attention and pull it away from Henry's area somehow, so I can mosey on in while it's gone! Sort of like the redolence of a lovely li'l' baked pie on someone else's windowsill, if you catch my drift. Vjgtg'u uqogvjkpi yg'tg cnn chtckf vq uca ctqwpf jgtg, kup'v vjgtg?

Thank you all. I'm still puttin' things in order, but I'm plannin' to head out soon, this week's end at the earliest! I'll wait for your go-ahead, though, in case you need to tie up any loose ends first.

I'll be gone fishin' for a while, so the places I'm livin' now might fall outta order for a bit, and I sure hope things'll be different once Henry's around (or, rather, I'm around Henry!) So if ya wanna give somethin' of mine one last look or show 'em to any pals you've got, now's the time!

Hey Will, pleasure to make your acquaintance (thanks for following me as well). What do you think of the night sky? Do you remember anything about it or when was the last time you saw it? And do you like stars?

Nice to make your acquaintance! The night sky kept me company for a while, 'round when I first began talkin' to Henry. Had a good view of it! The sky during the day too, of course, but I liked the nighttime a bit better. I remember seein' stars. I like 'em lots! Somethin' comfortin' 'bout the way they twinkle. Wonder which'll go first, them or me!

mods are asleep post let's get married by josé olivarez

huh. th at's certainly... interes ting. bu t, uh, no offe nse, but i'm not sur e i beli eve you all? i mean, this cou ld be me, or it cou ld jus t be a couple par agra phs writ ten by som eone who knows a h e l l of a lot about me, w hich you all see m to. and i d on't reme mbe r it the way i could with those email recordings you sent over. it's like anyth ing else i listen to on this place of yours - not rea lly a p ar t of me, yo u kn ow? I gue ss i kinda hope it's me, though. this guy so unds li ke he 's been t hrough he ll but he's a li ttle be tter for it. i wis h i was that st ro ng. and wish h e hadn't left it out the re.

@williamy3w Hi, Henry. This is the recording we asked if you wanted to see. We don’t have the actual audio from the recording, but we have the transcript:

Evidence File #81

Date of Admission: 8/23/1986

Evidence ID: 27.55555

Transcription Follows

YOUNG M. VOICE: uh. hi. um. my name’s henry bicknell, hb for short- it’s, um, well it was a sunny day today but now it’s night in the radio station. 1986. there’s some dogs outside, dunno if you can hear them. try to get a clear recording for ya if they don’t get too loud. 

yeah, uh, no way this is going in there, but will told me to record everything, so i’m going to record everything. but i got a theory that that’s because everything you don’t record kind of… disappears. i tried to ask will if i could transmit a photo of andrew mccarthy and then i’d look like him in there but he says it doesn’t work that way. bummer! 

if i don’t, i think i’ll just destroy it. or leave it near my car. i dunno, i like thinking about it existing somewhere. just in case. 

um, so, the reason we moved out of missoula- this year, in the spring, we moved and i remember… that it was still snowing when we pulled into the driveway of our place in chicago, and i thought we had bought the whole apartment building for a second. pretty disappointing, haha! but i really like it here. i think. i mean, i met will here, so it’s a nice place. 

but yeah the reason we moved out of missoula -- and i don’t mean to insult chicago by trying to leave it, and will says i can come back and listen to the radio here anytime i want. it’s lonely here but then again it’s lonely for me everywhere. i make a lot of friends but i can never get them to… stick. and they stay, i mean, people like me, but…

the reason we moved out of missoula is -– the thing is, even if i’ve got tons of friends, even if i’m surrounded by them, i always feel a little bit like i’m faking it. i’ll be laughing and talking and then i’ll be watching myself laughing and talking, and going, oh, boy, they liked that one, they’ll like me a little longer before i get found out. dunno what they’re gonna find out. i never stick around to see. 

because, like, we had to leave missoula, because, and i totally understand… okay, like, nothing was wrong, was the problem. it was, what, sophomore year? i didn’t have any college applications to worry about, i was doing really well on the track team, i had some friends. but every day it felt like something was hollow. like, i dunno, the colors in the world weren’t as bright as they were before. like when i heard music it was through a film. i love making tunes, i love making friends, i love finding new forgotten places in the city. like the radio station here! h3vn 33.3- boy, is that a spooky story!

but um. yeah, i really like those things. i know i like them. but i just… stopped doing them for a little while. like i’d lie on my bed and know i’d love to be up making a new tune. i’d hear it in my head. like this! 

​

MUSIC: [A short jingle]

​

YOUNG M. VOICE: but i just couldn’t bring myself to move one muscle over to the theremin and write it. i’d watch the light on my ceiling come up and go out and come up again. i could go to school more or less, but it was like whenever i was alone i’d just stand there, like a doll someone had stopped playing with. it took all my energy just to smile at someone.

so i guess the reason we had to leave missoula is that i kind of fell off a bridge. into water! deep water, like i bet i knew i wasn’t going to really- you know, but you do something like that and then everybody’s got a fucking opinion. i couldn’t really go to school. people talked about me. it was bad. i don’t remember too much about the time around it, just my dad kind of asking me when i felt like i could go back again and me saying whenever but not being able to move at all. 

i guess eventually someone gave me a potted sunflower. i think it was my mom? i uh, stopped seeing faces for a while, just like, didn’t care enough to look. but i bet it was my mom. 

so i don’t know why i really did it. i was watching it get all shrively and start to die over there on the other side of the room. and i knew i was the last thing standing between it and dying early. and just -- suddenly, i could move. i could water it. and then a week later there was a new little green leaf on it and i just… well, now i was responsible for this stupid little plant. i had to go outside to put it in the sunshine. and then i planted more. and then more. i grew a whole garden there. started making music. started going outside. and my dad finally felt like maybe we should move, get a fresh start in a new place.

i’m ok now. mostly ok. i find things to do with my time. but i haven’t been able to bring myself to make friends here, really. or, like, i feel myself running away from them again. and it’s because… like… everything is kind of a little fucking sunflower, right? like a friend. a life. it’s all for someone else. i feel like everyone else has some kind of power that i don’t- some secret, authentic way to make their own happiness. and until then what happens when the sunflower isn’t enough- when just, i’m not a good enough person, not selfless enough to make its existence my reason for existing… what happens? what happens to it then?  

so you see how i gotta put this here. i gotta leave this kind of thing outside. i really like will. like, really like him. i want this to be perfect. but i still can’t tell if he’s another fucking sunflower. i don’t think so. this feels different from everything else i’ve felt before. like my chest is all warm just from thinking about him. like i want to live forever just to be with him. but i don’t want any of this memory getting in there and making things… less than perfect. 

maybe i’ll plant it in the ground. or put it somewhere nice. somewhere with sky. 

I was never on the manufacturin' side of things myself but my guess is if ain't wax, it ain't workin'!

what the hell is cylinder restoration

Well, as far as I wager, it's a fella askin' for advice on restorin' his wax cylinder! A way to record and play tunes back in the day.

thoughts on codependent relationships? https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Codependency

Honest, I ain’t been in any relationships to have opinions on the matter!

Log #02

Second day of these memory logs. Today, Henry asked me my favorite memory. And I said I’m at this dance hall in Harlem, right? Maybe mid-twenties. Maybe the night of January 7th 1925. It’s hard to really cast my mind back that far, you know? It’s all some kinda mishmash, memories existing at the same time. Or maybe I’ve just got a real crappy memory. Well, I’m standing in a corner — must not be a huge one for parties, or maybe I knew I was a bit queer — and I remember everything glowing all golden-like. High ceilings, all decked out. It’s a gas. Dancers all crowding the floor, a man spinning his sweetheart past me as he fixes his tie with the other hand. A woman laughing to my right. The smell of booze. And that music. That swing. I feel the music surrounding me in my bones, shaking me from the inside out, just like it’s shaking everyone else in this joint. Just coasting along to the vibrations.

And then — fewer people this time. The night’s winding down, fellas are going home with their dolls. We’re giving one last hurrah for the couples still knocking it out on the dance floor. These kids are a bit more sauced now, swaying and laughing and bumping into each other. They dimmed the lights some. I’m still sticking around in my corner. Nobody by my side now. And that music. Still loud as hell, ringing out the night, shaking me from the inside out. And that’s kinda it, I told him. Great night.

hey howdy, friends!

i drew you two and figured i’d send it over so you can see!

now, technically it’s for the standoff, but since it might be a little late for that, now it’s really just an art piece haha

hope i captured your likenesses well!

WOW! This is stunning! Those are wonderful likenesses, and I love the composition of the thing as well! You got a real eye for design! Thanks a ton!

Also, there is still time! Vote here! We're fallin' behind! Votes end at 11pm Eastern Time!

th is is g orgeous ! i' d sure l ike to lie in a fi el d of f lowe rs wi th t h at d ream boat... bu t t oo ba d yo u di dn 't q u ite g et my h on ey's ha n dso me fa ce. it's lo ve l y!

Lantern slides showing movie theater etiquette and announcements, circa 1912.

 Excellent podcast etiquette for today as well, IOHO. Please, applaud with hands only as you listen to our latest. 

All images via Library of Congress.