PHOTOS & SHOW REVIEW: BLACK LIPS, THE COATHANGERS, & UNIVERSE PEOPLE @ NEUMOS, SEATTLE, WA. 3/28/14

(I am super-stoked to bring you this awesome coverage by Seattle writer/photographer AJ Dent, who stepped in for me last-minute. THANK YOU SO MUCH, AJ!!!! And click on any photo to enlarge, of course! -- Marianne)

“Wear a helmet!”

While walking to Neumos this past Friday night, I received this text message from a friend about the show I was about to attend. The Capitol Hill establishment boasted a mosh-tastic lineup of Universe People, The Coathangers, and Black Lips. The fact that it was sold out only sealed the deal on how insane I knew it was going to get. I responded to my friend with gratitude for the warning, and a “haha” remark.

“I’m not kidding!” he sent back.


I MADE YOU A CHILDREN'S BOOK NOT FOR CHILDREN: "CAN WE EAT IT?"


IS YOUR RELIGION NO DAMN GOOD?: A CHECKLIST

Sometimes it can be hard to tell whether or not something is good or bad for you. Take packaged powdered donuts, for example. They are so sweet and tasty and make you feel all fluffy and cozy, yet in fact they offer no nutritive value, are filled with nasty chemicals, and will sit like a lump in your stomach for hours while it puts fat on you. Sometimes you have to rethink your choices.

Following a religion is a very popular choice -- most people across the globe, when queried, will state that they are religious. Religions can and do offer people lots of positives: a social network and support, a sense of belonging to something big and important, lessons of grace and service and humility, answers to the Big Questions of Life, and pretty good basement potlucks. But what if your religion is just like those donuts? What if it seems to be offering you everything you need and want, but is actually just terrible for you? What if your religion is using your good faith to guide you into bad thinking? How can you know if you've been had? I have made up a super-simple checklist so you can know if your religion is telling you the wrong things so the wrong people can control you and your brethren for suspect purposes:

1. Does your religion tell you that you are a worthless sinner and born bad and must strive to earn your way into God's graces/heaven?

2. Does your religion tell you that you should be ashamed and guilty most of the time?

3. Does your religion tell you to not trust or even hate those people who follow a different religion or have no religion?

4. Does your religion tell you to have as many children as you can, even if you do not want to have children or cannot afford them?

5. Does your religion tell you to shame other people?

6. Does your religion tell you to shun or hurt those outside your religion, or who might disagree with your religion?

7. Do your religious leaders ask you for money to help the poor, but they themselves lead lavish lifestyles?

8. Do your religious leaders threaten you with Hell, excommunication, social banishment, or worse if you question its tenets or wish to leave the religion?

9. Do the legends and stories that your religion is based upon quickly fall apart under the microscopes of reason, logic, and science, and if you mention this you are told to "have faith" or "believe that God has a plan we can't understand" or that "you are the Devil's doing?"

10. Does your religion ever make you feel angry, anxious, depressed, fearful, frightened, or hateful?

How many did you check? Any one of them is cause for concern. If a religion is used to generate the worst that is in people rather than the best, you can be sure that the organization isn't there whatsoever for your well-being or enlightenment, is telling you a big bunch of lies, and is wasting your precious time on earth, all to gain power and control.

Can we have a powdered donut every so often and be just fine? Indeed we can. But one doesn't really approach religion in the same way -- you should be in or out, otherwise you are simply picking and choosing which rules you want to follow or stories you want to believe rather than adhering to its overall principles. Compartmentalizing is such a human trait, is it not? It's how we can say, "Oh, I'm fine with gay people, my stylist is gay!" yet still attend a church that actively discriminates against homosexuals. It's how we can blame one religion for all the evils of the world, while turning a blind eye to the death and destruction caused by our own. It's how when you grow up, you know that your religious instruction was damaging to you, yet you go ahead and instruct your children in the same way so they have "a good foundation" and you don't have to disappoint your social set. Infinite ways to rationalize, yes? And there are infinite measures taken by some religious leaders to keep their follows right there, spinning away.

It is something to think about.






20 WEIRD RECORD COVERS AND KNICK-KNACKS FROM THE VALUE VILLAGE & ST. VINCENT'S IN LYNNWOOD, WA.!

These two thrift stores sat right next to each other in Lynnwood, and when I saw that I went "WHOOP!" at my good luck. Your good luck is to see these bizarre items that resided within! Please to enjoy!

OH BOY. PARTY TIME WITH THE FOLKS!


13 WEIRD RECORD COVERS AND KNICK-KNACKS FROM THE VALUE VILLAGE IN WOODINVILLE, WA.!

Another happy shopping/snapping day at the thrift store! Interesting things are everywhere, you know. Please to enjoy!

I'm not entirely sure what this is. It might be a frog, or it could be Christopher Walken. Just don't know.


I MADE YOU A CHILDREN'S BOOK NOT FOR CHILDREN: "CAT ACTIVITIES"


10 OF MY FAVORITE "SPRING" SONGS!

Oh, MAN, am I ever ready for springtime! I mean, granted, here in the Pac NW spring is still a continuation of grey rainy skies and cool temps, but at least we get these incredible blooming flowers to lighten the mood, eh? Also, my birthday arrives in the spring, which is celebrated throughout the season with fruity drinks and impulsive shopping jaunts. Feel free to join in! Anyway, I'm jumpstarting the loveliness by bringing you ten of my favorite songs with "spring" or "springtime" in the title -- please to enjoy!



1. "I Live In The Springtime," The Lemon Drops: I LOVE this song -- it's a perfect trippy amalgam of what 1967 sounded like. I can remember hearing this on the radio -- probably WLS or WCFL out of Chicago since The Lemon Drops were an Illinois band -- but it disappeared until the "Nuggets" compilation picked it up. I was ridiculously excited to hear it again.



2. "Sure As Spring," La Luz: Do you know our local Seattle band La Luz? You should! They've got the eerie/cool surf vibe down solid, and add a little Spector-style girl group thing over the top, and it's pretty, pretty great. Also, KEXP is pretty, pretty great and you can listen to it from anywhere, you know.



3. "Where Did The Spring Go?" The Kinks: Of course, from the pen of Ray Davies, the most DEPRESSING song about "spring" ever! The narrator is thoroughly bummed about aging and failed romance, and adds in overarching paranoia to boot! DANG, SON!



4. "I Got The Spring Fever Blues," Ella Fitzgerald with the Chick Webb and His Orchestra: Well, how adorable is 19-year-old Ella from 1936 here? You can hear the youth in her voice, which goes so nicely along with our theme.



5. "Spring Can Really Hang You Up The Most," Ella Fitzgerald: Fast forward a few years, and here's Ella with a richer, deeper tone, showing an absolute mastery of melody and phrasing. No one ever did this song better.



6. "Springtime Polka," Myron Floren with the Lawrence Welk Orchestra: I'm sorrynotsorry for including this, because as a Wisconsin native, I know the POWER of POLKA! Put this on and do some spring cleaning, ya!



7. "Magical Spring," Ride: These blooming sounds from '90s Brit 'gaze-pop band Ride seem sunny and sweet. I have an alliteration problem.



8. "Springtime in the Rockies," Gene Autry: My mom used to sing this to me when I was little (and not-so-little) so this makes me a touch verklemp.



9.  "Can't Stop The Spring," The Flaming Lips: Vintage Lips! A cool fuzzy pop thing with that weirdo edge that once demands from Wayne and Co.



10. "Spring Fever," Elvis Presley & Shelley Fabares: And finally, nothing says spring like these two singing an under-two-minute ode to spring romance while pretending to drive convertibles. Top down, people -- spring's a-comin'!

RIP L'WREN SCOTT

I was shocked and saddened to hear of the death of fashion designer L'Wren Scott this morning. A terrible accident, I first thought, or perhaps a sudden illness? My shock was compounded by discovering that Ms. Scott had committed suicide by hanging, in her own home, after texting an assistant to "come by." That assistant discovered her body. Her long-time partner, the Rolling Stones' Mick Jagger, was given the news while in Australia on tour, and is said to be "completely shocked and devastated."

How little we can ever know of another person.

Other than being familiar with Ms. Scott through her romance with Jagger, I admired her design work greatly. Her clothing followed the classic, clean lines of 1940s and 1950s couture; designs that were sexy without being gaudy, skimming over the female form in a natural, lovely, and elegant way. She was able to effortlessly adapt cultural fashion details from all over the world into her own style, which gave playful yet sophisticated elements to her clothing, which you may see here. No matter your body type, celebrity or civilian, you looked beautiful in Ms. Scott's designs, which requires that a designer not only have a deep understanding of fit and form, but of how clothes can make us feel, and how those feelings can translate into celebration and strength. She was a great talent.

It has been reported that Ms. Scott's design house was millions of dollars in debt, and that this may be the reason she committed suicide. It is unthinkable to most of us to feel such a profound sense of failure regarding a business that we would wish to end our existences on earth, especially when the means to clear the debt was likely more than available and would be gladly given. To choose hanging as a method of death is a very telling thing; there are such particular qualities of shame, guilt, suffering, and sadness to it, unlike other means where death is gunshot-instant or comes in a hazy pharmaceutical blackness. We can't know, unless Ms. Scott left written word, why or how she came to her decision. We just know that the pain she felt was overwhelming, and she saw no end to it.

Ms. Scott posted the most lovely photos of her travels around the world, and seemed to have such a joy and appreciation for all that she saw. From the rich colors of India to an island sunset to the little stocking-stuffers given to Mr. Jagger last Christmas, she saw and knew beauty everywhere. How tragic that she could not see it in herself.


I MADE YOU A CHILDREN'S BOOK NOT FOR CHILDREN: "A SURPRISE" AND "THINGS PEOPLE DO"


IF VINTAGE SEWING PATTERNS COULD TALK...


I MADE YOU A CHILDREN'S BOOK NOT FOR CHILDREN: "LOOKING AT THE THERMOMETER"


PHOTOS & SHOW REVIEW: PARTMAN PARTHORSE @ 2 BIT SALOON, SEATTLE, WA. 3/7/14 (NSFW)

Some nights out on the town are fun...and some are FUN...and still others are FUN FUN FUN until Daddy takes your T-bird away and/or your library card expires or something like that. Daddy and the Library Police were nowhere in sight last Friday night, so FUN FUN FUN was HAD HAD HAD seeing punk/performance art pals Partman Parthorse play at Ballard's 2 Bit Saloon, in support of their new and awesome album "Wet Sounds." (This is a subliminal suggestion which will cause you to click that link and spend six dollars to purchase this album immediately, and then return to this site. Don't you argue with me here; just let your brain do its thing.)

PMPH were part of a stellar line-up that night which included The Botherations, Le Shat Noir, and Dream Salon, but prior and post engagements had me landing at the 2 Bit late and leaving early, so I missed most of the performances, sadly. Please support these fine and very noisy bands with your money and attendance at their next public engagements. I was there long enough, however, to be able to greatly annoy Matt Nyce from wimps by poking him in the sides and making bunny ears over his head as he was attempting to become World Champion on a pinball machine with a score of 3, 940, 230, 239, 200, 011. 009 or something like that. I enjoyed that.

Rachel, Lisa, Marshall, and Gary make up the members of Partman Parthorse and, you know, just like HURRAY, because we need bands like this. PMPH channels the furious first days of hardcore punk with confidence, adds in a healthy dose of Iggy and the Stooges with a measure of Warholian "Superstar" fabulousness, and puts it through a meat-grinder loaded with fake blood packets. The result is a fine mix of noise, art, and flat-out fun that had the crowd at the 2 Bit mightily entertained. I think I got a little fake blood on my sweater, but I'm hoping it will wash out.

Anyway, as always, click on the photos to enlarge or click on the Flickr link to see more...and remember, these photos may disturb your child, your mother, your boss, or possibly you. Just remember that PMPH are all very nice people. Say it with me: "They are all very nice people." There!

BONUS FUN: Find which pic has the spontaneously-formed red heart on Gary!! Like, a Valentine heart, not an anatomical heart.

Partman Parthorse, 2 Bit Saloon, Seattle, WA. 3/7/14


I WAS ANNOYED BY A MAN AT THE SUSHI RESTAURANT

Miss Eleven and I, worn out and hungry from some productive evening discount shopping tonight, decided to hit one of the local conveyor belt sushi joints we frequent. All the seats circle the belt; no booths, so if it's busy you are seated next to other diners and it can be kinda close quarters. Well, GUESS WHAT? I got seated next to MR. SUSHI tonight. You may not be able to intuit my dripping sarcasm here, so I will detail my experience for you.

You know sometimes when you go into a restaurant and there's some loudmouth guy (it's always a guy...sorry, guys) who will CONSTANTLY be doing and saying things to get attention from everyone around him, like he's friggin' LORD of the place just because he goes there maybe once a week? Oh, man. Like most people, I just want to eat my meal in peace, but here's this huge dude next to me and his thigh keeps banging into mine, and he keeps calling out the name of the restaurant's owner like, "Hey Jack, hey! Hey, man, ah ha ha, hey! Hey, look at Jack, ha ha! Look at him! That guy, he's somethin' else! You da MAN, Jack!" while stuffing his maw with raw fish and dribbling miso soup into his unkempt beard. Mr. Jack for the most part ignored him, but gave a tight smile and nod every so often.

The WORST is that the guy is tried to impress his gal pal next to him (and I guess US ALL) by loudly talking about all the different kinds of sushi that passed by us on the belt, using OF COURSE the proper Japanese names for the fish and rolls EXCEPT that he mispronounced ALL OF THEM. Unagi (freshwater eel roasted with teriyaki sauce) became "UHN-ayyyy-gee," toro (fatty tuna) became "taro," and I nearly imploded in my seat when I heard him ask his companion if she wanted a "Cali Quad," which is the most painful way to reference a 4-piece California Roll that I have ever had the displeasure to hear. I winced, and Miss Eleven poorly stifled a giggle.

At the end of a meal in belt sushi places, the server comes over and counts up your different-colored little plates, each color representing a different price level for the sushi portion on it. They are always extremely fast and efficient at this, because they do it FOR A LIVING. But Mr. Sushi had to get in there as the server was trying to keep her figures straight by blurting, "Yeah, that's 5 orange, 3 purple, 4 dark blue, 3 light blue...NO NO NO, 2 light blue AH HA HA, 1 red, 2 black, and 2 soups and 2 "SAP-per-oh" beers. The server nodded, gave that same tight smile like Jack's, and silently re-counted for herself.

When Mr. Sushi and his beer-giddy paramour got up to leave, he slammed into my arm, causing me to drop my salmon into my soy sauce bowl, which splashed up and made a stain on my shirt. He bumbled away unknowing as I growled and mopped up.

I ate my sesame seed red bean paste balls dessert that I do not know the proper Japanese name for, stayed silent while the server totaled our plates, then walked over and gave Jack the ticket at the register to pay. I said, "Thank you," and did not call him by name.


TWELVE WEIRD KNICK-KNACKS FROM THE VALUE VILLAGE IN WOODINVILLE, WA. (MILDLY NSFW)!

Oh, boy! My friend Deb and I had a monumentally SCORE day at the thrift store on Sunday. Besides a pile of great clothes, vintage magazines, and kitchenware, YES OF COURSE I found some of the BEST WEIRDITIES in a long time! You! Please to enjoy, You!

Keepin' it classy, Pappy!


POPTHOMOLOGY IS SIX YEARS & ONE DAY OLD. THIS IS POST #2380!

If Popthomology were a 6-yr-old kindergartener, it would currently be learning how to tie its shoes, write in BLOCK LETTERS, and get along with its neighbor. But in average blog years, Popthomology is more of a 60-yr-old grandma, reading up on cruise brochures and dreaming about golden years adventures to come.

This is my 2,380th post here, and I feel good about it. Well, OK, that isn't totally accurate. I feel THRILLED and tremendously and sincerely grateful about being able to continue to see and do and make stuff and mutate stuff to share with you here. Thank you for participating in a little experiment that turned out to be a life-changing vehicle of fun for this here human, and hopefully provided you with lots of good things, too.

Let us celebrate with horsehead videos!