Tequila Mockingbird

Rathole Radio 42 – 26th Dec 10 | RatholeRadio.org
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January 27 at 12:05pm · Like · · Share · Promote

“If there was an answer, he’d find it there.” My father was a man of few
words, ambiguous and insinuating, of metaphysical poetic statements that
were never open for discussion.

But I suspected my father thought I had the right answers; mostly, I was
only offered broken questions.

I suspected my father knew, as did I; nothing would ever be the same.

I was often suspicious during those wild childhood days; without a doubt,
that suspiciousness had a direct psychological connection: frequently,
when trouble surfaced, I consistently proved myself to be a suspect.

No one had to tell us where we were headed, because there was no one else anymore, anyway. My brother sat next to me and never spoke as we all
watched the present transform into this future we were living in – fading
sunlight, golden against the spinning clouds, our little boxcar clicking
consistently over the tracks; moments suspended into a timeless sensation that roused
a sense of apathetic optimism – while we chased the sun as it plummeted
into the vague horizon; the dark would be upon us soon; we just had to stay on
the right track.

I had fallen outside myself that evening; my wandering mind guided my
eyes to trace the image of my epitaph on the beautiful canvas of the cloudy
sky.

Whispering my last rites, I abruptly stumbled over my words when I was
nearly finished, because I could not, for the love of Pete, recall my own
name! I theorized that I existed somehow; slightly, I knew I was thinking and slightly I was amused; I wanted to speak to my companions, just to verify that I was concrete in this abstract story. I weighed my
conversational options, and but rather wanting to explain to them my
philosophical meanderings – that not everything in life had meaning or
sense to it; life was a mere dream: got to “row, row, row your boat gently,”
and my mind went to another place, another time. I was lost in the chaos of
nothing to lose but my mind yet genuinely as well surprised that I could
sit and handle the sail of our boxcar so coolly.

Out of left field, my grandmother turned to me and inquired, “What is
going
to be there?”

I repeated her question back to her, but slowly and in the form of a
sentence, not a question. I didn’t look at her for a while. I wasn’t sure
if
she was messing with me. As smart as I was, I knew that she knew she was
smarter. I was quiet.

She waited, though, and I finally angled an eyebrow in her direction –
suspiciously – and we locked vacant stares.

I sighed, and finally responded, “Nothing is going to be there until you
have found some good in something, I guess, amidst all the nothing
good.…..
the light, maybe,” I paused because I wasn’t finding the words that
connected to build that symbolism, then I wandered back to her eyes,
“sometimes, if you let yourself go, completely and profoundly, you can
find
some sort of meaning, grandma; the light may only be there – in how you
look
at it just right.”

“Then what happens?”

I shrugged and replied, “Well, maybe we will know when we get there.”

“No plot?” She blinked hard. “That’s not a plot.”

“You see,” I said, “if you don’t have a plot, you can make your own way.”

She softened her gaze and turned to face the distance and beautiful
elasticity before us, surreal as the steamy splashes of the bluest water
on
either side of our car.

“Good story,” she whispered. She smiled at the last of the day. I
proceeded
silently into the night toward a destination unknown.

I was a writer.

I made the story as I went along. I was recharged – my mind was mad with the infinite spectacular phenomenon which engaged my beingness, a gleam in my young eyes, I was on my way there.

by wendy clark hudson

I was listening anyway
And you weren’t there
The fuckin holidays are all the same

No really, the internet has taken a turn for the worse this past quarter, the trend seems to be a direct impact of the current industry trends, notwithstanding the holidays, most of which are recognized as days to target as potential customers. Unless the market is smart and dull as all the humanity. They are those kids you totally understood what someone meant when you said, “So, like, what’s the deal with that guy?” to your mutual friend or roommate and your mutual friend said, “Oh, Pat is an engineer major,” and you knew from experience and campus legendary stories passed on as fact that engineers were recluses and had to be targeted as such.

Tequila Mockingbird Live at the D-Note Tonight 11/4

Second, a must is also – http://www.thesixtyone.com.

And of course, http://ReverbNation.com.

http://www.jamendo.com This is an awesome way to get some free exposure across the globe. We have songs played through the licensing agreement in France, Spain, Australia, Japan, and more. We have songs in two Australian documentaries as well. People can download your songs for free though, so we waited for a few months after we sold a bunch of CDs to upload or full albums. But it also indexes really well.

This is hit or miss: http://one-track-mind.com

http://www.musicxray.com

http://hypem.com

http://bandcamp.com

http://www.musiciansnetwork.com

http://www.ilike.com

http://www.last.fm

http://soundcloud.com

http://grooveshark.com

Not sure about this one, but it’s worth a shot for the social media saturation, if you feel like learning how to do it like the pros. http://headliner.fm

These are constantly changing, so I will update you with more as soon as I collect the top ones that I have received feedback from.

La rubrica di libri “A parole, in breve” (CC-BY-SA) parla di Nato: colpito e affondato di Gianni Lannes, uscito con la prefazione di Andrea Purgatori per le Edizioni La Meridiana (collana Passaggi. Clicca qui per sfogliarne un estratto). Dalla scheda di presentazione:
Il 4 Novembre del 1994 nell’Adriatico orientale cinque uomini e il loro cane pescano come sempre. Il “Francesco Padre”, la loro barca, ora è un rantolo contorto e i loro corpi giacciono in fondo al mare. La vicenda rientra tra quelle su cui vige il segreto di Stato. Quella notte, in quelle acque, era in corso l’operazione della Nato “Sharp Guard”.
Il brano che ha accompagnato questa puntata si intitola Drunk Again, è contenuto nell’album Alien-American dei Tequila Mockingbird ed è rilasciato con una licenza Creative Commons BY-NC-ND.

“Grayscale” and “In words, in short: two appointments on GNUFunk Radio
Antonella |
18
NOV
Double date on GNUFunk Radio. While the archives of the broadcasts are going to move even on Archive.org (and to see that there is, just visit this page), on Thursday evening at 20.20 except for the first episode of the book of books in words, in short. Released under CC-BY-SA and aired every week at the same time, this initial appointment consists of these elements:

The book of books “In words, in short” (CC-BY-SA) speaks ofbirth: hit and sunk by Gianni Lannes, released with a foreword by Andrea Purgatori by Edizioni La Meridiana (Steps series. Click here to browse a extract). From the presentation form:
On 4 November 1994 in the eastern five men and their dog catching as ever. The “Father Francis”, their boat, now is a rattle, and contorted their bodies lie under the sea. The story is among those on which is subject to state secrecy. That night, in those waters, was under the NATO operation “Sharp Guard”.
The song that accompanied this episode is titled Drunk Again, is contained in the album Alien-American of Tequila Mockingbird and is released under a license Creative Commons BY-NC-ND.