i hate the pop industry and its rituals of control and the weird obssession of its jewish masterminds with living in washington connecticut. washington connecticut? all i have been able to theorize is that the evil is truly in the rocks and that those underneath washington connecticut emit some strange addictive radon. in the bar of wetlands franny from travis tells me: "quin, soots have their place." franny you're sweet but you're a stupid scotsperson. soots are gonna take us straight to baghdad every fucking time. i don't know why. the evil is in the rocks?
daddy used to theorize that the sprawl contingent to the expansion of the highway system had fused boston/ new york/ washington d.c. into one city as say dallas/fort worth is a city and that connecticut performed the highland park function. daddy was sort of the prototypical highland park punk.
seattle cries its mis-matched plaid plaint and sure enough there goes daddy the crazy loon in one last gesture of defiance, one last crazy road trip. daddy had a genius for punk. centralia, washington the perfect dying place for the slum-loving fool. in the spring of'94 there's bloods and crips graffitti everywhere and narry a black face. "what the fuck's this shit?" i ask boo boo. "they learned to franchise." boo boo shrugs. you can't buy anything but beer in the bars. the bars have signs: 'the patonage of ladies is not solicited'. the pool hall has wanted posters in it. daddy's dying of pancreatic cancer in a one room apartment cut from what had been a whorehouse run by the wife of the town's sherriff.
centralia washington is daddy's final fuck you to the aesthetics of washington connecticut. centrailia washington is daddy's gestural ying to washington connecticut's yang.
we're watching nirvarna on m.t.v. "i don't know why they should want to play unplugged," aaron moans. (in quin's head:) that's because you're a stupid scotsperson and you put tobacco in your weed. anyway, if you look real close, you will note that everybody is still fucking plugged in.
1994 was the last year there was any good pop music. kurt started to race my daddy to death and he won. and then pop died.
11:55:51 AM 
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