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John Cage loved sounds just as they are — he didn’t want a sound to pretend to be a bucket. He associated himself with Kant. He let a black cat love-bite at his hand. He articulated the insight that Schopenhauer tripped over (undercutting his own argument by engaging in the Critic’s perviest fetish of constructing [...]
After his conversation with Nora about House of 1000 Corpses, I didn’t run into James Mann again for a couple weeks. I continued to see Donna around the neighborhood, though—practically every time I went to the store. She seemed to always be standing outside some joint or other smoking and guffawing and lifting up her [...]
The second time I encountered James Mann was only a couple days after the first—again at Uptown. He was sitting alone at a table back by the kitchen reading Julio Caro Baroja’s The World of the Witches. I considered talking to him, but he looked absorbed in the way one imagines a medieval monk copying [...]
James Mann is dead. He died two years ago this November at the age of 53 when a blood clot moved from his leg to his heart and put his ass down on the Seattle snow. He was my favorite writer. As far as I know, he never published a word. I first noticed James [...]
SEATTLE It’s 2004. I haven’t been back to the Midwest in three years. Since I saw David Bazan in Austin, he has done a lot of tours and risen and fallen in fame around Seattle and nationwide a couple times over. Two years after the subculturally sensational Control, Bazan has forsaken the concept album and [...]
