triphop, old-school goth-rock, IDM, noise, power-tronics, etc....

[manny@telerama.com]

Quoting Jeremy David <epistemology at gmail.com>:

 the venue in Garfield didn't even have a soda
> machine, or an operating bathroom. Not that I required one, because
> there was nothing to drink anyway, unless of course I wanted to walk
> to the convenience store down the street.

Hey shitbag!
Garfield Artworks is an art space. It's not a nightclub. If you can find a soda
machine at the Mattress Factory, or Modern Formations, or Roboto Project
(I don't think 'DIY punks' understand your precious little needs..), then I will
put one in. If you can find a soda machine at Vox Pop in Philly, in the Eyedrum
in Atlanta, in Soundlab in Buffalo (all spaces fairly similar to Garfield
Artworks) then hell yeah I'll put one in. I think a soda machine would look
pretty crass in an art space and people pressing the button and the cans
constantly clunking down would suck in the middle of a Devendra Banhart show
(much like the kitchen noises and the cappucino machine at Quiet Storm).

But hell, if you want to invest your money and open a whole fancy upscale cafe
like the Warhol has, be my fucking guest. I have other things to do than spend
time folding up pita wraps or whatever.

It just so happens that now I *do* have snacks and drinks here. I've had them
here for many months. And when you were here I might have already had coffee.
But you're too much of a pretentious douchebag, used to your little comfy
oonce-oonce nightclub, to come back and see, and too lazy to go across the
street and patronize a locally-owned business (2 convenience stores, 2 pizza
shops, Vietnamese restaurant, Indian restaurant, and two bars where you can get
6 packs, all within a block, asswipe!) like you *should* be doing. Or you could
have saved some money and just brought your own, douchebag - being that it's an
ART GALLERY, not a bar - but then you didn't think of that and when you get
there what? you blame me for not attending to your alcohol needs?

As for your little one-act play-
I never said anything about 'McDonalds' or 'you must be joking', in fact the
whole conversation below *never happened*. You imagined it and fabricated its
hyperbolic content in your spoiled little mind after you didn't get a soda
conveniently handed to you. So now I will hand your ass to you instead.

As for a bathroom, we always had a working bathroom and we still do, Maybe you
were too stupid to figure out where it was, and doubly stupid not to ask. We
also have heat that's just fine, if you were personally too cold, then either
put on a sweater or ask me to turn up the heat, dickweed.

Let's face it, you're a lazy fuckface. This is Garfield, not Shadyside. You
can't roll out of your dorm room - you have to take a 54C or a 86B to get here.
This art gallery has been here for 12 years and people are more than fine with
exhibiting art here, showing films, and playing music here. You have a problem
because you are a shallow cocksucker who likes to whine and complain when
things aren't exactly like they are at the precious mall where you grew up. So
don't come to Garfield. And fuck the hell off while you're at it. I'm sure the
bars on the South Side, with their overpriced drinks, will enjoy ripping you
off instead.


> Here's a short play I wrote entitled, How To Make Sure That Someone
> Who Actually Likes Music Never Ever Comes Back To Another Stupid
> Concert Of Yours
>
> ---
>
> Act I
>
> Patron: "Boy, I sure am famished. Can I have a beer?"
>
> Promoter: "No."
>
> Patron "How about a Pepsi?"
>
> Promoter: "Nope."
>
> Patron: "Sprite?"
>
> Promoter: "You must be joking."
>
> Patron "OK then. How about a glass of water?"
>
> Promoter: "We don't have fancy things like 'water' in this
> establishment. Are you so concerned with your mere physical needs that
> you can't appreciate this *intelligent* dance music?!"
>
> Patron: "Fine. Where can I go take a piss?"
>
> Promoter: "Good luck! I think the McDonald's might still be open. It's
> only about a half mile away!"
>
> Fin
>
> ---
>
> I don't think I'm being unreasonable when I think that sitting on an
> old folding chair in an under-heated tenement with no refreshment, and
> not even a literal pot to piss in is no way for a human being to spend
> an evening out on the town.
>
> Look. Most punk music blows, but even the most DIY punks understand
> the basic elements required for a dance party: food, drink, a working
> bathroom, climate control, and a band containing at least one person
> who can play an actual instrument.
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