A writer friend of mine is fond of saying: "If you fear something enough don't run scared, confront it directly." The idea being that no single thing is as terrifying as the fear itself, but you can't ever know that without doing some sampling. Armed with this tenuous consolation, I went to a recent Frank Zappa concert at the Felt Forum in New York. My memories of Zappa consisted of a few rococo fragments that had enlarged as time went by, like a pet nightmare. I had long ago lost touch with his point blank sense of humor, the indolent frescoes that permeated his atmosphere, his blend of classicism and absurdity. Dog Breath Variations and Burnt Weenie Sandwiches were not exactly integral elements of my press party repertoire. All I could conjure was this tall, barmy-eyed maniac who tore the limbs off dolls and engineered a lot of madly gyrating noise in assault upon my sweet pink ears. (read more)

Source: slime.oofytv.set