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Monday, April 23rd, 2007
6:37 pm


Just created this LJ and joined this community. I recently started a vinyl based record label dedicated to releasing experimental/avant-garde and underground music, with the eventual aim of releasing more and more Mississippi based bands. The blog itself is mainly to post pictures of rare vinyl or show off some of the more elaborate record packages that I come across from time to time.


Just wanted to introduce myself to the community at large, basically say hello.

So, hello!

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Friday, December 29th, 2006
7:15 pm

Celebrate New Years with me as I watch my friends Circus of the Seed and The Try Force rock out 2006 and in 2007. Sunday at WC Dons. 10PM.

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Thursday, July 13th, 2006
9:37 pm - TRANS need 1 MS leg & overnight near Hickory, MS! for pit pups Saturday 07/15

Hello! Excuse my interruption, I don't live in MS, I live in TX.
I recently rescued two Pit Bull puppies. They were brought into the vet office I work at to be evaluated for an animal cruelty case. Both puppies were very thin, had no hair due to demodex mange, had severe secondary infections of the skin and intestinal parasites. The previous owner told animal control there was no cure for their skin condition, even though he had never taken them to the vet and was treating them with Udder Butter! The puppies were then taken to the shelter where they were scheduled for euthanasia.
There are some gruesome pictures here and here of what they looked like 6 weeks ago.
And here they are now.
I agreed to foster these dogs so they could heal and prepare for their long journey to an approved Pit Bull rescue group in New York who offered to pay their vet bills and adopt them out.

Little "Bobby Buttons", a six-week-old Pit Bull puppy, will also be joining this journey to save him from being put to sleep because of his breed. Once you see his picture, you won't be able to resist him! See?

The way it works is that individual people offer their time and their car to "relay" the puppies to New York in one hour shifts...
Since this trip is so long, the puppies will make half the trip, foster in SC for one week, and then complete the trip the following weekend.

There are a couple shifts in Mississippi that really need to be filled.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
LEGS #1-6: Dallas, TX to Jackson, MS / 400 miles / 6 hours 10 min.
Til-12:00pm ***FILLED***

LEG #7: Jackson, MS to Hickory, MS / 72 miles / 1 hour 10 min.
12:10pm-1:20pm ***NEEDED***

***OVERNIGHT in Hickory, MS – NEEDED***

Sunday, July 16, 2006
LEGS #8-9: Hickory, MS to Tuscaloosa, AL / 115 miles / 1 hour 45 min.
9:30am-11:15am ***FILLED***

If any of you could donate a couple hours to these puppies - they would greatly appreciate it! :) Please let me know if you're interested.

More information about the dogs are in the cut..
Read more...Collapse )

Please leave a message if you are interested.

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Thursday, April 13th, 2006
10:47 pm

from unityms' myspace message...

Hosted By: Unity Mississippi
When: Friday Apr 14, 2006
at 9:00 PM
Where: Hal & Mal's
200 Commerce Street
Jackson, MS 39206
Description: Incredible live tour featuring Eric Himan and Levi Kreis touring through Mississippi on the KnockOUT tour. If you missed Eric during OUToberfest now is the time to see him!

$10 at the door / 18+

i've seen eric perform live and i've been a fan of his music for some time now--i can't tell you how good it is. if you want a preview of the sound, check out his myspace page (http://www.myspace.com/erichiman). levi also has a page up with some tracks available (http://www.myspace.com/levikreis).

well worth the cover!

(x-posted to qyanms)

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Monday, April 10th, 2006
8:19 pm - roomie needed

3 bedroom house . one is used as an office. i have pets. central heat and air. cable. internet. phone. about $550 a month.

give me a call if your interested.

day 664-2228
night 366-3059

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Monday, March 6th, 2006
2:45 am - tonight roomie needed

my roomie informs me tonight right before getting in the shower that she can no longer afford living here and will be moving next month. great im screwed. i cant lose my house its the only place ive ever been safe you wouldnt understand unless you came from a family like mine.

anywho i need a roomie fast . the bills are a little under $500 a month . so we each would pay a little under $500 a month please pass this along.... to not crazies.

she said i guess we will have to put a ad in the paper . i really dont want to live with a complete stranger that no one i know can vouch for not killing me in my sleep.
pass it on please :)

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Sunday, January 22nd, 2006
1:41 pm - free pup!

so i found this puppy 2 days ago and he is really sweet and good. he is slightly house broken and hes learning quickly! please message me if you know of anyone who wants a pup! ive been calling him jackson brown.

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Sunday, November 6th, 2005
11:01 am - roommate needed!

im looking for a roommate move in as soon as possible! rent would be $600 a month including internet and utilities . i have two kitties and an outside dog .i have a three bedroom house one room i use as an office and can be shared . contact me if your interseted :)

3 bedrooms 1 bathroom washer dryer hookups and central heat and air.

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Tuesday, October 4th, 2005
8:50 am

If anyone in or around Jackson is looking to buy a car, I am looking to sell my 1995 ford contour.. only because I have moved to New York and it is no longer of use to me. The car is still in Jackson with my mom.

So far it has been completly reliable, I have had no engine problems or any major problems at all really. (squeaky windows is the only thing I can think of). It has been cared for very well with all the necessary checkups and regular oil changes. I have kept a record of all work that has been done on it (the bands that have been recently changed, new battery, etc.) and would be glad to show this to you.

It is a standard (manual shift), which means it gets better gas mileage.

I'll sell it for $1,000... you can pass this on to anyone who may be interested.

xposted to mhferrell

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Tuesday, September 20th, 2005
10:00 pm - Photographer/Artist Needed

My company, Jade Liqueurs, is building a new website and we are looking for an up and coming photographer/artists to do some nice shots of our Absinthe line (photos of bottles, paintings, drawings, etc) for the website, promo pics, etc. Since we are an up and coming company we really can't pay but the photographer/artist will be given full credit on our website anytime that their photos/artwork are used which is a fantastic way to build a portfolio etc. We will include email address and links to a website if the photographer likes for any photos/art used.

If you are interested or know someone that might be drop me a line at justin@bestabsinthe.com and we can chat about it.

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Sunday, June 12th, 2005
5:37 pm

now that i've finished Fortress of Solitude, I wanted to share a complete list of all the quotes Iiked from it:

The girls murmured rhymes, were murmured rhymes, their gauzy, sky-pink hair streaming like it had never once been cut...

The girls, Thea and Ana Solver, shone like a new-struck flame. ...

But Isabelle Vendle only lurked like a rumor, like an apostrophe inside her brownstone where at this moment she crept with a cane... Isabelle Vendle was a knucle, her body curled around the gristle of old injuries.

stinking of radicalism and a tenuous marriage

conversational checkmate

moved like a sprained knee

he flashed a s mile like a torn photograph, his voice crept around corners in the air

Fifth grade was abstract art, painted one frame at a time.

The Incredible Hulk, if you followed him closely over time, lost the use of pronouns.

Mingus was a rumor with himself Dylan couldn't confirm

Seventh grade was sixth grade desublimated, uncorked.

Bodies ranged like ugly cartoons, as though someone without talent was scribbling in flesh

an operation of mass adjacency

to retie the frayed laces of your years

I was unexpectedly moved, forgot the room, forgot my headache, suddenly wept for the triangle's efforts, a tragedy in no acts.

No one clapped. They had forgotten how - or perhaps the film had persuaded them to fear that their hands, urged together, would fail to meet.

Smoke scribbled in the air between them, like exhausted language, Senior's unmentioned name etched in fume.

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Tuesday, May 31st, 2005
11:31 pm

Love Poem

There is always something to be made of pain.
Your mother knits.
She turns out scarves in every shade of red.
They were for Christmas, and they kept you warm
while she married over and over, taking you
along. How could it work,
when all those years she stored her widowed heart
as though the dead come back.
No wonder you are the way you are,
afraid of blood, your women
like one brick wall after another.

-Louise Gluck

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Monday, May 30th, 2005
11:39 am

breathy-beautiful, excerpts from the first two pages of "The Fortress of Solitude" by Jonathan Lethem:

The girls murmured rhymes, were murmured rhymes, their gauzy, sky-pink hair streaming like it had never once been cut...

The girls, Thea and Ana Solver, shone like a new-struck flame. ...

But Isabelle Vendle only lurked like a rumor, like an apostrophe inside her brownstone where at this moment she crept with a cane... Isabelle Vendle was a knucle, her body curled around the gristle of old injuries.

DAMN, i like this guy's descriptions.

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Thursday, May 5th, 2005
7:01 pm

join the exies_community !!!!

check them out they rock!!!check them out at  www.theexies.com

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Thursday, April 28th, 2005
1:14 am
quenchdani Defending Despair While Balancing on Cobblestones by Susan Minot (I have fallen in love with most of the poems in her book Poems 4AM, and had never heard of her before reading some of it. If you know of anything else by her, please share)

He spoke
just a peep,
made the slightest of pleas
not to be branded as someone
who's scared,
but to be more nobly seen.
I choose, he said, my companion

And where,
she asked,
do you go from there?
Where will you end up
in that endless, shoreless sea
drifting facedown?

What's the
difference, he asked,
between being frightened
and being resigned
to constant

It's the
difference, she
said, past being resigned,
between breathing air
-as if he didn't
and breathing

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Tuesday, April 5th, 2005
9:09 pm - more food for thought

Diving Into the Wreck

First having read the book of myths,
and loaded the camera,
and checked the edge of the knife-blade,
I put on
the body-armor of black rubber
the absurd flippers

the grave and awkward mask.
I am having to do this
not like Cousteau with his
assiduous team
abroad the sun-flooded schooner
but here alone.
There is a ladder
The ladder is always there
hanging innocently
close to the side of the schooner.
We know what it is for,
we who have used it.
it's a piece of maritime floss
some sundry equipment.

I go down.
Rung after rung and still
the oxygen immerses me
the blue light
the clear atoms
of our human air.
I go down.
My flippers cripple me,
I crawl like an insect down the ladder
and there is no one
to tell me when the ocean
will begin.

First the air is blue and then
it is bluer and then green and then
black I am blacking out and yet
my mask is powerful
it pumps my blood with power
the sea is another story
the sea is not a question of power
I have to learn alone
to turn my body without force
in the deep element.

And now: it is easy to forget
what I came for
among so many who have always
lived here
swaying their crenellated fans
between the reefs
and besides
you breathe differently down here.

I came to explore the wreck.
The words are purposes.
The words are maps.
I came to see the damage that was done
and the treasures that prevail.
I stroke the beam of my lamp
slowly along the flank
of something more permanent
than fish or week

the thing I came for:
the wreck and not the story of the wreck
the thing itself and not the myth
the drowned face always staring
toward the sun
the evidence of damage
worn by salt and sway into this threadbare beauty
the ribs of the disaster
curving their assertion
among the tentative haunters.

This is the place.
and I am here, the mermaid whose dark hair
streams black, the merman in his armored body
We circle silently
about the wreck
we dive into the hold.
I am she: I am he
whose drowned face sleeps with open eyes
whose breasts still bear the stress
whose silver, copper, vermeil cargo lies
Obscurely inside barrels
half-wedged and left to rot
we are the half-destroyed instruments
that once held to a course
the water-eaten log
the fouled compass

We are, I am, you are
by cowardice or courage
the one who find our way
back to the scene
carrying a knife, a camera
a book of myths
in which
our names do not appear.

-Adrienne Rich

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4:58 pm - it's national poetry month. let's celebrate

tell me your favorite lines....


What am I ready to lose in this advancing summer?
As the days that seemed long
grow shorter and shorter
I want to chew up time
until every moment expands
in an emotional mathematic
tht (sic) includes the smell and texture
of every similar instant since I was born.

But the solstice is passing
my mouth stumbles
crammed with cribsheets and flowers
dimestore photographs
of loving in stages
choked by flinty nuggets of old friends
undigested enemies
preserved sweet and foul in their lack
of exposure to sunlight
Thundereggs of myself
ossify in the buttonholes
of old recalled lovers
who all look like rainbows
stretching across other summers
to the pot of gold
behind my own eyes.

As the light wanes
I see
what I thought I was anxious to surrender
I am only willing to lend
and reluctance covers my face
as I glue up my lips with the promise
of coming winter.

-- Audre Lorde

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Wednesday, March 23rd, 2005
10:13 am - Sestina (Part Two by Sapphire)

(A play on the particularity of form - a game of lament that manages to slow-dance and shadow-box all at once. Fondren needs this woman - and yes, I have seen flowers at Dachau.)


Last night after school I finally got around
to looking at the formula for a sestina
& thought of Crazy Horse dancing in the desert
& I asked, Is god gonna appear here?
I want god
a blue light so dark
it stains everything for centuries
radiative hallucinatory rood smelling
like urine & frankincense.
One hip has always been higher
one breast longer
& my thighs & belly at midlife,
like stupid teenagers
are totally out of control
like Billie
& Bessie or diamond black Big Maybelle
bawdy ballad red
throat cut in the sign of the cross
sodomized with a black cat bone
full moon
crossed with lye
road sign turned around
early death
gun shot
roach wings floating
in the semi circular canal
(a white boy in the workshop, hip downtown grunge, shaves his
prematurely bald head, tattoos [you know, the whole bit], wonders
aloud if roaches get in poor people’s ears when they sleep)
A girl says, Yeah, yeah they do, running like roads
out of nowhere, out of lines, & I fall back twenty-five years
before most of them were born & I whisper to Chris:
It didn’t make any difference which side of the line you were on,
did it? When the wheel hit that dip & the motorcycle flipped
in the air in the light of a cervical vertebra
snapped in infinitum electrons spinning like wheels
around a dying nucleus of light scurrying
under cracks in some linoleum in Queens
& sometimes under the concrete the city is walking on
I see the cotton fields my daddy ran away from;
& his face, the love pulls me like an eclipse
to the worn envelope of poems I found in his drawer
when he died—
lines crossed in gasoline, burning.
& you know those ol’ niggers back then
had about as much a chance of making it
as butterflies at Auschwitz.
Is that why he did it?

Now time is a light dimming as it burns brighter
turning me toward the dark then the light again. I hope.

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10:06 am - An Ordinary Evening (Part One by Sapphire)

This chills my bones like no cold one has:

An Ordinary Evening

My sister tells me it was just an ordinary evening, but evening is never
ordinary is it? Once the sun has started to climb down the sky things
change. You and she were sitting in the den—the olive green vinyl
couch, sports trophies, new color TV, pictures of Kennedy and King we
keep turning to the wall, plate glass door, concrete steps to the back-
yard. You were sitting in the den, by the tone of your voice you could
have been asking are there any more hot dogs left or saying let’s go get
high. She said you just turned around and looked at her and said, „Let’s
kill him, let’s kill the old man.“

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Tuesday, March 22nd, 2005
10:42 am - Only a guy who turned down the position of Britain's Poet Laureate could've written something so....

Philip Larkin - This Be The Verse

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.

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