a word on that "special thing"

soon, dear and beloved non-existant readers, i hope to download some clips of the new anti-zen lineup doing what we do best to this wasted little desert corner of cyberspace.

i would've already, cept i am certainly not the technically savvy member of this operation.

but we have a new drummer: give a hearty non-existant reader welcome to d, the newest addition to the anti-zen fold, and the replacement of the asshole drummer who shall heretofore remain nameless.

p and i have long cottoned to the fact that he and i have that "special thing" that allows us to play together and read off of each other, and, quite often, improv sensational bits of musical anarchy for others' amazement and enjoyment. the asshole nameless drummer did not have that.

d does. oh my sweet jesus on a bicycle backwards on sunday through redlights, my droogs and only friends, does he ever.

we were practicing last night. at some point just past the moment where i had completely destroyed my hands, forearms, shoulders, and knees (on certain songs, i do a crapload of jumping), and just before my brain became aware of this fact, i launched into the bassline of ministry's so what. (now, of course you know, if my brain had clued into the fact that my body was turning to jello around it, i wouldn't have launched into an eleven-minute, angry, bass-driven song, but hey!)

p has heard the song once, and did a fair bit of coming up with suitable guitar to follow along. d made me smile by picking up the fucking exact drum line, and kicking it in like a crazy motherfucker at just the right parts.

so when my arms fell off, and the song petered out as a result, i said to d, "you know that fucking song!"

he replied, "what were we playing?"

o, yes, dear, sweet, beloved non-existant reader, we are going to do great things. and i'm completely unconceited when i say that.

darth sardonic