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Goner Girlr

I am very much over editing photos for the past two weeks.

Time to kick up the ol' dogs, put The Cramps in the air, crack a seltzer or twelve, and juggle a few books about ethnobotany, Brian Wilson, and bipolar Norwegians in 19th C. Oslo/Christiana.

With all the friv. ado all a-done, here are some faux toes from the best fest east of the west:

Gonerfest 14: The Freshman Class/Baby's In High School Now

To view the gallery above all on one page go here.

To see way more of each band and others (from G-14 and otherwise) go here on my site vicio.us, where I stash all my band photos and miscellany.

They're categorized by band and in order or appearance over the weekend.

Now I'm going to sleep for about nine years. No more, though. That would just be decadent.

Debbie Harry's Daughter

I found somewhere warm in Memphis. It led me to New Orleans, got lost along the way.

And then I had a dream about Debbie Harry’s daughter, rearing up out of some other nowhere and into my own.

She said, “An island loves a mandala, even as it scatters with the sands.”

And she could only sting the sky as it lifted, as her dullard’s hands hung bullion from her shoulders.

When colors and shades unseen for years leave their burns on the nerve,

you chase them like floaters and flashes, but they’re never not another bit too far.

As the afterimage dies, every shadow gets swallowed in the pulse.

And all night long, the rods are spared of seeing stars.

So should it reach the drums down in south Louisiana,

High-tearin’, I’m issuin' an aisle of view.

March of the Juggalos

On September 16th, 2017, I photographed the Insane Clown Posse's March of the Juggalos and the following concert on the National Mall in Washington, D.C.

The protest regards their designation as a "gang" by the FBI.

They're not.

Being a fan, going to a concert, having a sticker on your car, etc., has led to people losing their kids and their jobs.

The "Family" compare themselves to Deadheads, rather than a gang. This is an entirely appropriate analogy. They were all sweet, welcoming, ridiculous people who like some music and like hanging out and meeting one another.

The struggalo is real.