THE SIGNAL from David Katznelson

“Life is very hard. The only people who really live are those who are harder than life itself.” ― Nawal El Saadawi

We are blacked out here in San Anselmo. Because of high winds and arid lands PG&E pulled the plug on us and 300,000+ other people. Without easy internet and multiple power outlets, the kids distance learning is impossible, so I’m taking the day off to be with them…maybe take a long hike, a drive. In Northern California this is such the norm, that as soon as we were told the power was going out, we bought ice to load our freezer with, pulled out our Jackery battery, set up our portable solar panel, and got ready for anther go of on-the-grid-off-the-grid living—thinking about the people who do not have it as good as us during these times.

And then there is the wonder and worry that the winds will trigger another fire and set off another period of smoke filled air.

We will make it through. What else are we going to do? It is just such a crazy new reality!

The song going through my head: Wait For The Blackout by The Damned

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This Song's a Killer: The Strange Tale of "Gloomy Sunday"

I was listening to KALX this weekend (so glad it comes through to San Anselmo) and heard the crazy story behind Gloomy Sunday. And with the power going out yesterday, it just felt like a good time to do more research. This is a great article about it. Be warned: it truly is gloomy.

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'My fascination with myself': Billy Childish's life story – in picture

There was a time in the 90s that Billy and I were in contact regularly. I even put out an LP & single by his band Thee Headcoats and went down to Kent to purchase paintings from him (which I still proudly have). His fame continues to grow and thus articles like this one pop up from time to time. You might see more of Billy than you bargained for in this “life story” but it is pretty solid regardless…

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Interview with poet Diane di Prima

I was on a call this morning with Ariana Reines who informed me of the passing of poet Diane di Prima, whose work I did not know….until I realized I had read a poem of hers in Arthur Magazine years ago (HI JAY BABCOCK!). Now I am doing a deep dive. There is not much on her passing on the web yet, but there is a short obituary with more to come, I am sure.

Revolutionary Letter #4
by Diane di Prima

Left to themselves people
grow their hair.
Left to themselves they
take off their shoes.
Left to themselves they make love
sleep easily
share blankets, dope & children
they are not lazy or afraid
they plant seeds, they smile, they
speak to one another. The word
coming into its own: touch of love
on the brain, the ear.

We return with the seas, the tides
we return as often as leaves, as numerous
as grass, gentle, insistent, we remember
the way,
our babes toddle barefoot thru the cities of the universe.