Leave Michael Jackson alone

Dear world, will you please stop treating michael like that.
I'm sure Michael is a wonderful man. And I'm sure he meant no harm.
Next time, you want to throw stones from a glass house, ask yourself, who has given the world more, than the king of pop.
As well as giving us great music, he also supplied us with the dance moves britney and justin are using to this day.

misskilin kaldhæðni

mér finnst bara hamingjusamir endar full kaldhæðnislegir. þeir eyða öllu þessu púðri í hetjuna sem sigrast á óvininum og fær ástina í lokin, en lífið er svosem ekkert svona vont eða svona gott, það er bara allt annað innihald í því.

þ.e. það eina sem ég átti við var bara, hversu ólíkur hollywood raunveruleikinn er frá raunveruleikanum okkar.

Nine Inch Nails: With Teeth (Halo 19)

love exists

Miramichi sunset
Originally uploaded by Frodotim.

but not for me.
i just watched crazy/beautiful, and it had a happy ending, and i felt like shit.
why?
because in real life, theres no fucking happy ending.
it just gets worse.
hehehe
so it just occured to me, is that the reason they make those movies, so you can worship the illusion of happiness.
its a strange reaction.
then again, i guess there is something seriously wrong with me.
at least i FUCKING HOPE SO.

fuckers.

in heavy rotation, currently. i recommend it

.

death of a salesman

So I took my guitar
And I threw down some chords
And some words I could sing without shame

And I soon had a song
I played it around
For some friends but they all said the same

They said music's for fools
You should go back to school
The future is prisms and math



So I did what they said
Now my children are fed
'Cause they pay me to do what I'm asked

I forgot all my songs
The words now are wrong
And I burned my guitar in a rage

But the fire came to rest
In your white velvet breast
So somehow I just know that it's safe

Keiji Haino

5. A death never to be complete

This is is this happiness?
This is is this happiness?
This suffices for delight?
This is is this delight?
To played with a death never to be complete
This is is this exultation?
This suffices for exultation?
This is is this me?
This suffices for me?
When nerves are cut unable to become anything
This is is this a dream?
This is is this rapture?
This suffices for rapture?
Playing with a death never ever to complete
This is is this joy?

81

.

81.
   On many an idle day have I grieved over lost time. But it is never lost, my Lord. Thou hast taken every moment of my life in thine own hands.
   Hidden in the heart of things thou art nourishing seeds into sprouts, buds into blossoms, and ripening flowers into fruitfulness.
   I was tired and sleeping on my idle bed and imagined all work had ceased. In the morning I woke up and found my garden full with wonders of flowers.

81.
   Durant plus d'un jour de paresse j'ai pleuré sur le temps perdu. Pourtant il n'est jamais perdu, mon Seigneur ! Tu as pris dans tes mains chaque petit moment de ma vie.
   Caché au coeur des choses, tu nourris jusqu'à la germination la semence, jusqu'à l'épanouissement le bouton, et la fleur mûrissante jusqu'à l'abondance du fruit.
   J'étais là, sommeillant sur mon lit de paresse et je m'imaginais que tout ouvrage avait cessé. Je m'éveillai dans le matin et trouvai mon jardin plein de merveilles et de fleurs.

-BPB

the great depression

i'm a better person after my great depression. The great depression is the timespan, of the last 4 years. That is, since, when i got single again. I began by turning my life around by getting a shitty ass job at the mental hospital. I spent a year there. It did not help. Then, I finally, went back to school. It's funny, you know, a lot of good things, have come out of this most miserable time in my life ever, not counting the year i was bullied at school, when i was 12, cause thats different. That was suffering caused by someone else than me. I cannot really say anything about the time, since i finished high school, that its anyone elses blame, how miserable my life has been. Its been a steady downhill. But I think I've hit the bottom already, and the pendulum is spinning back into the other direction.
There was a different feeling in the air, in my early twenties, there was a spirit of 'i can do what ever i want, and fuck you all'. In a bit naive way, because theres only one person thats going to take the consequences, and that is yourself. I felt very unsatisfied, in my passion, in my work. Not with the work itself, but not having the proper ground to relish it upon. I had a lot of girlfriends in my early twenties, when i look back, about 3, and that was all real, at least partly. I haven't felt any real love for the last 4 years, except for my child, which is different. I guess it's just not as easy to fall in love with just about anyone anymore. I mean, the relationships i had were all hopeless, just in a different way.
Brita I met in my exchange deal in Norway. She was pretty OK. I hadnt really had so much sex before, and I was 20, so it was about time. But we didnt really have much to say to each other. so eventually we got bored (after about 3 months). It's funny how terribly heartbroken i was, considering the way we didnt fit together. But that was all different then, she was my only chance up until then, so I thought there wouldnt be anything more. I met Z in my high school the following autumn. She was turning 16 and i was 21, but we had an affair. She won't really admit it though today. We werent a couple, in the way people are couples, but we definetly had something going, it was strong for about a month and a half. It did not matter, but it pulled me out of my depression, and kicked my ass. I fed from it.
Then it was time to finish school.
I didnt feel happy about doing anything but music, so i decided to give it a shot, but i didnt know how. I was still in the jazz school at that point, i knew i didnt want to become a jazz player as a main thing, but basically i just didnt know what else to do, but continue what i was studying. unfortunantly my parents didnt like the idea, and after several months, i was living in an attic, and surviving on unemployment checks. It was in this phase of my life, that i met Maarit. I thought she would save me, and make me a happy, functional part of society, but thats not the way it went. She was just as depressed and angry as me. I was still as unsatisfied in my situation. The time that we lived together, at least the first months, is probably my only encounter with happiness, but still there was just too much wrong with us. I mean by that, that we were young, and we hadnt gotten alot of things decided in our minds.
In that time of my life, i took everything for granted. My parents, my health, my craziness, i believed it would all be alright. Unfortunantly thats not the way life is. Even when i had a girlfriend and had a brief chance of actually being happy, i was still sinking deeper into a nasty way of thinking.
Back then it was so different. I though I had all the answers for my own life. There was just one way, and i knew exactly which way that was.

But everything is different now. They strip away your skin, layer by layer. until theres nothing left but your bones. I don't take anything for granted anymore. Thats why i feel so depressed. But I'm also a better person for it.

I'm still in the belly of the beast. But I know there will come better days. Something will happen. Something will come. I can feel it.

tristan

athyglisverð spurning, doktor...



já ég veit ég er mjög sætur

Myndir eftir Heiðu Dögg (+comment)

Líkn, TONLEIKAR!

Kæru vinir.
Hin ótrúlega hljómsveit Líkn, sem spilar melódískt rokk (sem biggi segir að sé næstumgotneskt hippasýrurokk, en ég vil ekki viðurkenna það) með vænum skammti af geðrænum stemmningsdjassi (ath. hljóðdæmi á http://nemar.lhi.is/~hallvardura/ ) hefur risið upp á afturlappirnar eftir að hafa legið í værum fráhvarfseinkennum, sem stundum kallast cold turkey, en er engu að síður okkar leið til að hlaða batteríin. Skepnan hefur gengið í svefni við upptökur, meðan 'führer' hennar, Hallvarður, hefur verið að sjúga blóð úr litlum sígaunum. Endurnærður af nýju blóði, hefur dýrið tættan hnefann til himins.
Þ.e. við erum að spila í Stúdentakjallaranum næsta föstudag, þann tólfta mars, ballið byrjar klukkan 23:00, og mun halda áfram þar til áfengisdauði skilur okkur sundur. Það er hlægilegt miðaverð, 500kr. við innganginn, allir eru velkomnir, ég myndi gjarnan vilja sjá framan í ykkur.
Sumarást, hamingja, osfrv.
Yðar einlægur þjónn,
Hallvarður

Likn CONCERT!

The incredible band Likn, which plays melodic gothic folk rock, (Biggi says is more like almost gothic acid hippie rock) with healthy dosage of psychological mood jazz (hear the link here to the right: it says LIKN) is risen again from its zombie state of always almost near death, sometimes called cold turkey, which is just our way to recharge our batteries. The beast has been sleepwalking-recording, its 'leader' Hallvarður Ásgeirsson, sometimes called Varði, has been sucking the youth out of a band of baby almost gypsies. After recharging on the young blood, the mutilant hand raises its fist again.
That is, were having a concert in Stúdentakjallarinn next friday, 12th of march. the ball begins at 23:00, and will continue until alcaholic death do us part. there is a humble fee of 500 kr. at the door, and we welcome you all, i'd like to see some of your faces.
Endless love, summer, etc.
Hallvarður

musical archives

i should have done what i'm doing now a long time ago. (that is, finally working towards the LP format, and actually planning to release the music). But what the fuck, at the time i just kind of went along with it, i didnt follow things through to the end. i wanted the world to come to me and ask me for music. I've played pretty many concerts though, though I haven't officially released much. I always wanted to wait until i could 'make it right', but there is nothing like that that exists. You just gotta move on. So here are my archives, in mp3 format. Maybe i can sell this some day as my back catalog. Doesn't hurt anybody to give some of your work away, though. Some of more of this stuff is in 12tónar on cd-r, if anyone is interested.

Dóri og Varði: this is an experimental project, although we had one or two songs we would play. Dóri playes a homemade instrument he calles Dorophone or the feedback fiddle. Its got a speaker right under the strings, which feedback constantly. amazing.

Varði- industrial: this stuff is actually going to be on an LP, i'm working towards.

Ciam: a pcychadelic jazzrock project i had with Einar-bass and Krissi-drums. pretty cool band, too bad it didnt stick together

Varði-andrými: this is me in full blown ambient electronica mode, with guitar and sampler.

Varði-rafindustrial: this is a kind of electronic nightmare project i did.

Fortral: me and Jóhann Gunnarsson on bass and effects, this is ambient jazz.

Varði/síra Jón- Las Casas: a music me and Jón Indriðason did for a play by a friend of mine, Þorvarður Helgason.

Stína, Varði, Nonni, Davíð Þór at Grand Rokk: a beatnick-freejazz thing.

Tríó Dr. Benways: a beatneck poetry project.

http://xs1.lhi.is:16080/~2508764839/vardi/

New York City Light

I'm into New York, in the same way i'm into a new lover. You know the way she opens up a whole unseen universe of possibillitie. A curvy redhead, or a skinny dark one, or a blond french one, i absolutely don't mind at all. As Sartre would write, the woman is a metaphor for beholding the whole world. Therefor it does not matter who the object of desire is. I like the streets of manhattan, i had just mentioned to my friends how many the scyscrapers were, when they told me, that they weren't scyscrapers at all, they were in another part of the city. Where it's possible to fall in love twice a day just walking the street. I took your advise, Bella, and walked and walked for miles, 10 hours in the same day. I cannot remember much, because, my timeline was fucked. The timedifference is 4 hours, and then there is the thing, that you lose sense of linear time, in a new place. It is only the sense of things around you, that governs your attention. The second day, i walked alone, and got lost, in the darkness of manhatten, I walked for blocks, not wanting to ask anyone, getting a short grunt, whenever i did. I felt so lost, like i could have disappeared and never be found again, in the world. I walked the womb of the city, into her darkness, her cruelty, her ignorance. I became an insect. It felt like being born, into the Vault anew. i don't know how, but time past and i found myself again at the central station, being cleansed of all my sins, mistakes, 28 and a half years of fucking things up. What a relief. I returned to my drinking again, refreshed.
The first concert went sort of well, although i had to spend 4 hours of saudering, to get my banjo pickup together, which then did not work. So i had to lend one, which luckily was in the owning of one of the people there. It was the loft of bubblecore records, and the people kind of dropped their cool for a moment, and danced. The second concert was a different story in front of 400 NY hipsters, we had a medium good day, opening for Animal Collective. I was pleased, but not everyone in the kammergroup. Then we played in Bowery's Ballroom the following day, opening for Animal Collective again. I had a shitty time, because i had some technical difficulties with a fuzz pedal. It's kind of annoying when you don't know if the sound is going to deliver inself out of the amplifier. oh, well, a lot of sacrifice is needed for playing the banjo. It has worked well though, expanding the sound of the group. 3 guitars, kind of wasn't working out. There was too much of a muddy sound. The banjo has a different resonance then the guitar, and a wonderful percussive attack.
But the guitar is shaped like a woman.
i spent my last day, walking through central park, which had been packed in orange cloth, hung over the walkways. I hadn't realized how hugh the thing is, it's like 50 blocks. And in the middle of the biggest city in the world. I went to the Dakota, where Lennon lived, and the corner where he was shot. Yoko still lives there. It has a quite gothic, in it's gloominess.
I came home tired, but somewhat recharged, although i didn't really feel like coming back at all!

New York City Blues

Það var fínt í NY. ég skemmti mér við að sofa á gólfinu heima hjá Adam. Hann var með hús á 3 hæðum, með fullt af leigjendum, sem voru allir eitthvað að grúska í tónlist. Þeir voru líka allir miklir hausar. Svo the love of Jah var látin ganga. Tímamismunurinn var örlítið vandamál, en þar sem maður fær aukna orku við að fara til útlanda, truflaði það mig ekki mikið. Við Gestur eyddum fyrstu dögunum í að labba um stræti Manhattan. Við löbbuðum tíu tíma á dag. Síðan hófust giggin. Við byrjuðum að spila á svokölluðu 'loft' hjá Bubblecore records. Okkur var nú sagt að þetta væru miklir New York hipsterar. En það merkilega skeði, að fólkið virtist aðeins slaka á, og droppa kúlinu aðeins ögn er við vorum komin í smá búlgarska sveiflu. Partístemmningin var því alls ráðandi, og strákarnir hjá labelnum voru bara hissa, sögðu að venjulega skeðu hlutirnir ekki svona hratt. Auðvitað er músíkin ekki 'authentic', þannig ég held að það hafi ekkert allir gert sér grein fyrir að þetta væru búlgörsk lög. Þetta er jú meiri popp og rokk nálgun, á þetta efni. En þarna virtust sameinast metalhausar um black sabbath áhrifin í ballöðunum (tilvitnun í Rob úr Dimond Knights) og aðrir hausar um dansstemmninguna. Eftir viðeigandi sukk var keyrt á rót og næstu tónleika daginn eftir. Ég var reyndar þreyttur, enda tókum við snjóinn með okkur frá íslandi. En það var í ultraunderground stað á Manhattan, sem leit út eins og Nýlistasafnið. Þar inni var kalt, og klósettin voru einungis varin með plastpokatjöldum. En þangað komu samt 400 manns. Við áttum nokkuð ágætan en þó ekki gallalausan konsert. Eftir rót og annað rugl var skellt í konsertinn á föstudeginum á Bowery's Ballroom. Því miður lenti ég í nokkrum tæknilegum örðugleikum, þar eð það var eithvað sambandsleysi í fuzzpedal sem ég fékk lánaðan, en það var að duga eða drepast, og ég efast um að nokkur hafi tekið eftir því svosem. En ég var semsagt ekkert að fíla mig neitt sérstaklega.
En eftirá var þetta fínt. Ég eyddi laugardeginum í að skoða myndverkið í Central Park, þar sem garðinum hafði verið pakkað inn, og fór og skoðaði Dakota, þar sem Lennon bjó, og hornið þar sem hann var skotinn. Yoko býr þar enn.
Við rótuðum og fórum heim, ég fékk fyrsta eiginlega dauða tímann í ferðinni. Ég var búinn að sofa svona 6-7 tíma á dag, í viku, á hörðu viðargólfi.
Ég kom heim í gærmorgunn algerlega gegnum þreyttur og svaf mestallan daginn og nóttina líka.
Mér fannst gaman úti, og mér finnst margt skemmtilegra heldur en hérna heima.
Mér finnst satt að segja ekkert voðalega gaman, að koma heim aftur í skammdegisþunglyndið. Þessi vetur hjá mér, hefur farið að mestu leyti í að leysa gamla lausa hnúta. Það voru samt ljósir punktar, einsog það þegar Tristan fæddist. Ég get ekki sagt að það sé beinlínis slæmt að hann hafi fæðst, þó að það setji okkur í undarlega aðstöðu. Hlutirnir fóru einsog þeir fóru, og ég veit ekki hvort ég hefði getað gert neitt í raun og veru til að afstýra þeim. Það sem getur farið úrskeiðis, fer úrskeiðis. Tristan er það eina í lífi mínu eins og er, sem getur fært mér einhverja ánægju. ég get unnið, og haft gaman af því, en það er ekki nóg.
Eina leiðin út núna, er annað hvort í gegnum fíkniefni eða geðlyf.
Hm... ég verð að sofa á þessu, hugsa málið.