tall hands

TALL HANDS WARMS UP!

2007-08-11T22:38:00.000-07:00

All L.A. All world. Solid state radio brothas. Cliff jumpas. Manics. West massive 808 bangas.

TALL HANDS LIVE WARM UP. NEW SET. NEW LOCATION. SILVERLAKE LOUNGE.
MONDAY AUGUST 13TH. 11 PM.

Bring a good head.

Ruthless, Wild.

Trailer for "Intense" directed by Razor Sharp

2007-07-20T17:56:00.000-07:00

I've decided to make a film series. Here's the trailer for "Intense." It comes out in the Summer of 2008.
INTENSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LOOT THE WORLD WITH FLASH JORDAN

2007-07-17T15:12:00.001-07:00

How do you get down?

or maybe

or maybe

the Razor Sharp Intelligence: Volume III

2007-07-17T09:43:00.000-07:00

Worlds apart: The moment the tallest man met the shortest
from the the Daily Mail UK

The world's tallest man, Bao Xishun today shook hands with He Pingping who claims to be Earth's shortest. But these two men actually hail from the same region of Inner Mongolia. While Mr Xishun, 56, towers above everyone at an astonishing 7.9ft, 19-year-old Mr Pingping is a mere 2.4ft high.

Bao Xishun, a herdsman from Chifeng, Inner Mongolia, was recently married in a traditional ceremony to a 28-year-old saleswoman from his hometown. At 5ft 6" Xia Shujian only comes up to his elbow and is half his age. He claims he was of normal height until he was 16 when he experienced a growth spurt and reached his present height seven years later.

Mr Xishun was confirmed as the tallest person by the Guinness Book of Records last year.

Mr Pingping was born nearby in Wulanchabu city, Inner Mongolia. His father claims he was only the size of an adult's palm at birth.

He is now seeking to be registered as the world's shortest man by the Guinness Book of Recrods. He could be in for a disappointment though. While Mr Pingping is 73cms tall, the current holder of the title Lin Yih-Chih was measured as 67.5cm.

****
Tell me these guys aren't the next dynamic duo. Flash and I were chatting the other day and we decided getting these guys behind a lense together is our ticket to an easy grand.

Cuts Off the Razor's Edge: Volume IV

2007-07-13T09:30:00.000-07:00

Alright, now. The clip above is from one of my favorite films of all time. By luck or by chance, last evening an old classic paid me a visit. The undemanding words of Chance the Gardener played by the legendary Peter Sellers rang once again like bells in full delight. If you have happened to accidentally skip over this film in your short time here on earth, be sure to no longer skip. For your hop is insipid and in need of some savor. When in doubt, put your hip to the hop, and your face to the screen with my hand on your head. Trust me. Also, for you're listening pleasure straight from Being There, it's "Basketball Jones."

FRAMES: Being There
BEATS: Basketball Jones by the Studio and Cheech

2007-07-09T09:42:00.000-07:00

Cuts off the Razor's Edge: Volume III

Live Free or Die Hard, huh? More like, "the Best Fucking Movie Ever Hard." As far as frames go, let your eyes snatch these. And, don't forget when you get home from the theather you have to give your ears a chance to catch up with your eyes. So, bump this fit and swiff a J on a Black Moth Super Rainbow. KA BOOM!

Frames:"Live Free or Die Hard"
Beats: "Early 70's Gymnastics" by Black Moth Super Rainbow

STORYTIME WITH FLASH 4

2007-07-03T11:00:00.000-07:00

MANIFESTATION BON VOYAGE

...OUR HERO DUNCAN NIVOY, NOW INHABITING THE BODY OF HIS EX-RIVAL MR. POTS, SURVEYS THE SCENE WITH HIS LOVELY DEAD GIRLS...

"Let's get 40s!" shouted the girls in unison as they fluttered around Duncan in circles. "Yeah!" "40s!" "40 time!"

Duncan dropped to his new knees. He wrote on the ground with his dead cell phone, then dug his fingertips into the soil, thick dark dirt collecting under his nails. A smile washed across his face and he rose in a fashion not unlike William the Conqueror, sifting handfuls of earth between his fingers.

"Oh dear lovely dates, sweet ladies. You shall never again taste the warm kiss of malt liquor; you're deceased." There was a pause for dramatic effect.
"AND YET... if we can get to Furious Canyon by sunrise, we might be able to secure you a paranormal liquid more delicious than any earthly brew: GHOSTY FROSTY PUNCH!"
"Oh fuck yeah!" came the response from the ladies. "That would make it all worthwhile!"
"That's the attitude. But the canyon is a good four hours away... we can't hoof it from here. We'll need a ride. A fast one."
"Let's steal your, i mean, his car!" said Mandy.
"What's Ghosty Frosty Punch?" asked Katiedid, but she was ignored.

"Let's shut up a little bit. Now, the car." Duncan dug into his pockets and found the keys. He tossed them into the air. "Yes, I suppose we could. Yeah. A magic car?" And then, "A magic car... for a magic night. Yeah. Where's my turtle?"
Shaman was chewing on a tire. Duncan plucked his guide off the ground and walked around to the driver's side and saw the inscription under the door-handle:

MANIFESTATION 2.
MANIFEST DESTINY FOR THE REST OF US.
HAWKMEN COLLECTED.

Our hero let out a hearty laugh. "This sounds fuckin' awesome! Get in, come on get in," he said as he cracked the window for his companions. They slid inside and all four set off down the highway as the night skies tossed mystical fire behind them.

Only Shaman knew that Sergio Moondog was the engine. They spoke in meditation.

YOU'RE DEAD IF YOU TRY ANY WEIRD SHIT, SERGIO.

DON'T THREATEN ME, BUDDY BOY. YOUR FRIEND KILLED MY BROTHA.

YOU KEEP QUIET AND MAYBE I'LL GET YOU THE KEYS TO THE PEPPERMINT STORE.

YOU LIE.

TAKE US TO FURIOUS CANYON AND WE'LL SEE ABOUT ALL THAT.

THE FRESHEST

Large palms and cyprus trees formed the majority of the living wall that stretched across three quarters of the perimeter surrounding the oceanside Freshest House Estate, corporate headquaters of HAWKMEN COLLECTED. Carefully placed lupins and elevated service-berries gave the wall a lush, dense exterior. The whole shit was mechanically watered, well lit at night, and notable for providing a friendly habitat to several endangered species of poisonous salamander imported from Madagascar.

The house itself, which to the un-educated eye might have seemed a bit derivative of the Kaufmann residence at Fallingwater, was actually the design of an alternative universe Frank Lloyd Wright known only to our dimensia as Donnie Cho. It was lifted off the sand on a metal frame (simply mammoth) with its roots over 400 feet under the ground. The frame, composed of parallel materials invisible to the human eye, gave the building a floating/levitating effect that always seemed to impress investors and the finest of shorties.

The rooms were tremendous, borrowing enough atomically grafted space from an unspecified location over the Pacific to triple the physical size of the house within. Walls were four feet thick, woven out of bamboo and feathers. The offices, where his wives worked and which occupied the first two floors, were tastefully arranged with tables made of stainless steel, a long bar made of solid gold with a limestone counter, and couches and chairs upholstered in handcrafted red and black elephant leather. Large circular windows overlooked the Pacific, and a large stuffed mammoth had been refurbished into the most glamorous medicine cabinet of all time. The pleasure rooms on the second and third floors featured time-imported beds made from Lebanese cedar, gorgeous inch-thick silk curtains, and gentle monkey servants, as well as serving as the homes for various curiosities/antiquities (books stolen from the library of Alexandria, Copernicus' telescope, Francis Bacon's original steam engine prototype) the Hawkman collected during his travels. Things got a little more modern in the master bedroom on the 22nd floor, where furniture was made from a composite of carbon fibers and light. A great many sculptures, ranging in dates from the distant future back down to the Assyrian Empire (in fact, the bas relief winged bull was a prized possesion), were scattered elegantly about the room. There was also a large collection of beautiful paintings hung in the studio (36th floor), mostly from the Dutch "Golden Age".

In the main conference room on the 85th floor visitors were delighted to discover temporaly warped leaping marlins, porpoise, and sharks bursting out of thin air and splashing down into the deadliest of lazy rivers. Mechanically cleansed and managed overflow was ionized, directed towards the east side of the house, coupled with recycled fresh water from the great stone baths, and finally sent toppling over slate ledges in a cascading waterfall (breathtaking). The waterfall than in turn emptied into a large pool (depth 6,356.750 km)that was naturally heated by the earth's core. It was here in this very pool where the Hawkman both enjoyed cocktails and operated his fiery submarine of wonder, Happy Funtime.

The Hawkman, as you might have guessed, had been a very important man for quite some time, and was now in the midst of his glory days, a period stretching from 74 B.C.(fall of Masada)-4200 A.D. (first self-conscious plant). He had nine golden teeth in the front of his mouth, each featuring a laser-cut portrait of an original Wu-Tang clan member, and one ivory tooth featuring an autistic child's engraving, "Roy Orbison's Strength". A gigantic collection of over 100 other customized teeth were kept safely in a Louis XIV jewelry box. These were his prized possessions, and the Hawkman was known to leave a tooth behind inside the mouth of a victim he considered worthy of respect. Many teeth had been left in many dead open mouths, and the Hawkman barely respected anybody.

Tonight was a special night in the life of the Hawkman. A night he had returned to thousands of times. The best night of his life. He rested with his assistant Salvatore in the pool on a lovely pink raft. The temperature of the water was a refreshing 74 degrees fahrenheit, the temperature of the air 76 degrees fahrenheit. There was a nice breeze, and humidity was low. The moon was full.
One of his wives stumbled out onto the patio overlooking the pool. "That Mr. Pots couldn't hold it down. He's driving to Furious Canyon as we speak."

The Hawkman took a sip out of his martini, blinked slowly, and emptied his drink onto his chest.

"Salvatore."

"Salvatore." He stretched his fingers out, analyzing his cuticles.

"Salvatore."

"Yes Hawkman." Salvatore sat naked behind the Hawkman on the pink raft.

"I want to get another tooth."

"Great fucking idea Hawkman."

The Hawkman turned around to face his assistant. He flashed a luminous smile.

"Mussolini."

"HA HA!" Salvatore smacked his thigh. "That's a fucking great one Hawkman."

"Let's get it yesterday."

"Should I prep the Happy Funtime boss?"

"Let's have at it, skipper. I want a new tooth and that's all there is to it."

new links!

2007-07-02T11:26:00.000-07:00

how exciting is that. more to come.

- Flash.

STORYTIME WITH FLASH 3

2007-06-30T20:17:00.000-07:00

THE ORIGIN OF OUR HERO'S EXTRAORDINARY SHAPESHIFTING ABILITIES...

So that was how it went with Sergio the human engine reuniting with his long lost driver/speaker. The two had hit it off and become the fastest of friends so long ago, so long ago nobody alive can remember! Those two were pimps. No doubts about that, but what's next for our hero? Surely you jest. Duncan is amazing. He's a shapeshifter, ever since that time at the peppermint store. What, you weren't there? Shut the fuck up. I'm not even kidding: an entire world of wonder awaits.

WHAT'S A SHAPESHIFTER? or WHO IS OUR HERO?
...by said hero...

Yeah, whatever, sure, I was known as a collector of turtles. Everyone always says, "but you're so fast and turtles are so slow, you amazing man," but then I always say, "relax. they are faster than you might think."
As far as turtles, I'm not in it for the pussy. I'm in it for the system.

Yeah you heard me.

What's that shaman? By shaman i mean turtle. My main fuckin' man. He's cold blooded, just like that icy Pots. Don't worry though. Shaman is no joke. He's been my guide through my recent exploration of shapeshifting. He's *MY* hero.

HAVE YOU EVER BEEN TO A PEPPERMENT STORE
by someone who worked there

I'm not talking about mints. You better sit down now, because I've had just about enough. I am well good with the mints and I care about people. Don't talk to me about mints, you're out of your league. I'll tell you all about them, I worked at the Funtime Pepper Suprise. Surprise was they had no peppers, just the mints. Everyone woke up. They saw a new future and we all dove in. All day, every day, the whole city was packed full of minters. Yeah, so what, I took the money. They couldn't make any more mints. Closed up shop. I used the money for the mega mint, oooooh yeah. Shapeshiftin' Orange, I took some lovely girls out to a dance and then we sucked the whole shebang. After that, I was so bad, I died, right outside the rollerderby. Good thing that Shapeshiftin' Orange gave me the power to jump inside that fat asshole and kill his soul. One day I'll become a beautiful woman, and we'll all get together and have a good cry.

WHERE DUNCAN INHABITS MR. POTS.

We last saw our hero when he shot himself out of frustration over the dates and the cell phone. It had been a long night, and the soul theivery was just too much a burden for him to bear. Well since Mr. Pots was the only living inhabitant at the scene, Duncan had no choice but to leap inside his rival and delete his existence. Every memory was erased, every opinion tossed into negative space for all time. Mr. Pot's cold blooded body was now completely under the control of Duncan. Well, not completely: all of Mr. Pots various nervous ticks and involuntary physical habits continued, the body still programmed by its previous inhabitant. Which is exactly why we find our hero in his new self blinking furiously and biting his lip.

"Wow! That was a lot of pain." And then, "Oh my poor dead ladies."

Duncan popped the trunk and let his dates out. They looked like all ghosts, which is to say they looked so sad that any well-connected, properly reared individual couldn't help but cry.

"Oh you poor things," said Duncan as he opened his arms to the awful sight.
"He told us we would be sold to weapons manufacturers!" said Mandy. "Oh, and there is nothing to do. Wherever I am is where I am."
"Your lives may never be the same, no, but a new life awaits. A life forever! I'm not even joking." Our hero, always so encouraging. A true friend to the end. But the spirits still had more questions.
"Can we still go out and have wonderful times together?" asked Katiedid.
"Times so wonderful, you can't even imagine! Fucking yeah." He would have embraced them, if he could. "Come, ladies, the night is young, and i promised my dates a good time. HA HA!!"

STORYTIME WITH FLASH 2

2007-06-30T19:04:00.000-07:00

A BRIEF REUNION BETWEEN MR. POTS AND A MYSTERIOUS OLD FRIEND...

Mr. Pots had often spoken of his automobile. Whenever down grabbing a frosty pint at the local dive with his minions, whenever shopping for deals at the local bread outlet... whenever, always, always he spoke of how he missed his car.
"Car is magic. You can pack it fulls of ghosts. Tells *ME* WHAT *I* need to hear."
"But how do you know you're not just imagining that, Pottsman? how are we supposed to believe you?" one of his compadres might implore.
"Asshole!"
KA-BOOM!
"Never a mutiny. Never a munity." Mr. Pots was ice cold. He wasn't lying.
"I'm not fucking around."
"Mr. Icy Pots. Get the fuck outta here."
The Pottsman. He wasn't lying. The car was magical. Now he had it back.

***
"Look at that teeeerrrrrrrible shit!" said Mr. Pots the day he regained possession of his prized automobile. He slapped his hand on the hood.
"Wowie! That's some shit. That's some shiit!"
All of his disciples crowded around the vehicle. There was an inscription just under the driver's-side door handle, an incription of gold.

MANIFESTATION 2.
MANIFEST DESTINY FOR THE REST OF US.
HAWKMEN COLLECTED.

"Pottsman, lay it on me!" Sergio Moondog slid out from under the hood in a cloud of smoke. Sergio Moondog, the mortal engine! The human machine. The disciples gasped. Who knew what await them?
Mr. Potts laughed. "My minions, how much you love your new lives, you fuckin' brothers!"
"Brotha brotha brotha." Sergio's eyes were made of liquid gold.

STORYTIME WITH FLASH

2007-06-29T17:13:00.000-07:00

THE COLD NIGHT IS DUSSELDORF

Our hero Duncan Nivoy found himself at a difficult crossroads in his heretofore care-free life. Things were bad enough, what with both of his dates crushed under the wheels of a rival's car, but he'd only just now realized that his cell phone was dead and there was only one bullet left inside his revolver. Tears welled up over Duncan's pudgy cheeks, but it is important that we do not mistake his emotion for fear. Duncan was an emotional man, a man who cared, a man who above all cared for his dates, and here they were, dead! A cell phone dead to boot. These negatively charged events simply converged into a powerfully disheartening trinity which our hero simply could not ignore.
"You fucking Duncan!" shouted his rival, Mr. Pots. "I got the car back, and everythings else fell into place. That's because it's a magic car, you stupid little piece of fat shit."
Duncan couldn't help but admit the automobile had a strange, mystical aura, probably mostly due to the fact that the backseat was packed full of spirits.
"Next time I get you some shit, Duncan, you fucking pay me back, baseball. We're not cool."
The recently-released souls of Duncan's two dates clawed from inside the trunk of the car. It was a futile. The trunk was a magical trap!
"Let them out, Mr. Pots. Let my dates go. I promised I would drive them home. I always keep my promises." Duncan stuck his gun inside his mouth.
"Asshole! Asshole! Asshole!"

DUNCAN, OUR HERO, WAS A BODYSNATCHER!!! But it was a painful process.

"Asshole!"

KABOOOOOM!

tbc.

the Razor Sharp Intelligence: Volume II

2007-06-29T13:00:00.000-07:00

72 Year Old Man Pummels Pickpocket Suspect:
from Alternative Press
GRAND RAPIDS, Mich. — Bill Barnes says he was scratching off a losing $2 lottery ticket inside a gas station when he felt a hand slip into his front-left pants pocket, where he had $300 in cash.

(You Must Watch Video with the Audio at the bottom of Post; click on the audio and then scroll up and click on the video. Then enjoy the magic)
He immediately grabbed the person's wrist with his left hand and started throwing punches with his right, landing six or seven blows before a store manager intervened.

"I guess he thought I was an easy mark," Barnes, 72, told The Grand Rapids Press for a story Tuesday.

He's anything but an easy mark: Barnes served in the Marines, was an accomplished Golden Gloves boxer and retired after 20 years as an iron worker. Jesse Daniel Rae, 27, was arraigned Monday in Rockford District Court on one count of unarmed robbery.

Barnes said he had just withdrawn the money from a bank machine and put it in the pocket of his shorts before driving to a service station in Comstock Park, a Grand Rapids suburb.

He remembers noticing a patron acting suspiciously, asking the price of different brands of cigarettes and other items. While turned away, Barnes felt the hand in his pocket, so he took action.

"I guess I acted on instinct," he said.

"There was blood everywhere," said another manager on duty, Abby Ostrom, 25.

Barnes was a regional runner-up in Golden Gloves competition in the novice and open divisions before enlisting in the Marines in 1956.

After retiring as an iron worker, he now works part-time as a starter at a golf course.

"I wouldn't want my wife to give me hell for lettin' that guy get my money," he said with a smile.

the Razor Sharp Intelligence: VOLUME I

2007-06-27T10:08:00.000-07:00

From NBC10:
Apple Juice Tantrum Causes Plane To Make Emergency Landing

A child's tantrum onboard a Delta commuter flight forced a pilot to make an emergency landing at Philadelphia International Airport.

Chopper 10 was over the scene.

The forced landing was caused by a fight over apple juice

A 4-year-old wanted apple juice and when the stewardess didn't get it quick enough, the child threw a tantrum, NBC 10 reported. The Delta commuter flight landed around 5 p.m. Tuesday. The flight originated in New York and was headed to North Carolina before the incident.

Passengers were spending the night in Philadelphia, NBC 10 reported.

Authorities said there would be no charges filed in the incident.
****

If Algernon has another little sister he never mentioned to us, I'd bet my bottom dollar this chick is her. She landed a plane."It's on C.D." Enjoy.

News Flashed Jordan: Volume I

2007-06-26T16:24:00.000-07:00

From The Daily Mail (UK):

"A driver who was high on cocaine destroyed an entire cornfield in an attempt to escape from the police. Four police cars were destroyed before the 35-year-old crashed into a ditch and was arrested, near the village of Dussen in the south of the Netherlands."

source.

There will be a party at the Tracy Street house tonight in honor of this incredible individual, who is no doubt already talking over book deals with Random House and receiving dinner invites from the likes of Tony Blair, Andy Dick, and Barack Obama. Danno will buy a cool t-shirt for the first person to get us a name/picture of the cokehead.

"What I Do For A Hundred"

2007-06-26T09:21:00.000-07:00

Today we've decided that we're going to give the World a sneak peak of a ROUGH-CUT of the best new song to come out of the U.S. in 2007. People may say, "that's completely opinion based, bro." But, unfortunately for those there nay sayers, they're dead wrong. It actually is the BEST new song to come out of the U.S. in 2007. Though, it probably won't be released until 2008. And, then at the point, it'll be the best new song to come out of the U.S. in 2007 and 2008. The best part? We wrote it at the close of 2006! Try to get your head around that. The next best part? Hundreds have been around for hundreds of years.
- the Razor "...now you do."

FLASH ROCKS THE CRYPOD

2007-06-25T16:23:00.000-07:00

it's 4 am at the club and all the grizzley bears have returned. they've already hit the hay once tonight; now they're back for more. they're rubbing vanilla pinkberry on each others' chests, and their beards are scratchy like Pat the Bunny, but you don't know if you can help it, because you're just too damned lonely. you miss her so much, and if her heart can't rest inside you, then maybe, just maybe, one of these lumberjacks could fill the void. you sink into the crowd, your eyes blown wide open in oblivion. all is lost...then...out of nowhere...just as you begin to collapse into the arms of a sweaty man-beast...this song drops in. the kick sends warmth through your spine. the strings wash through the room like an icy synth rainbow (pow!). you inhale deeply, the strobes hit full-tilt, and you realize you're not alone. stay alive.

Love, Flashie

Robyn & Kleerup - "With Every Heartbeat"

L.A. is for Pussies?

2007-06-25T10:37:00.000-07:00

Pussi of Pussi Stout is pictured in a t-shirt above that reads "LA is for Pussies." Now, when he saw this shirt, he wasn't actually thinking L.A. is for wimps or weaklings. His thought process is very literal and boy does that Pussi love L.A. He was actually thinking L.A. is for me and people like myself...His name being Pussi and his style being "fresh or pimp," he pictured a gang of Pussies running around the streets of Los Angeles dressed to the hilt, drinking Pussi Stout, and break dancing to the rhythms of Groove Armada. After his imagination set fire, he picked the shirt off the rack, walked to the register, and bought that shit. Thus, when Pussi of Pussi Stout is wearing the shirt that he is pictured in above which reads, "LA is for Pussies," in the mind of Pussi the shirt really reads, "LA is for Pimps." So, lets all give Pussi a hand for supporting our new city. What a Pussi, huh?

Pussi will be DJing tonight under the name Chicken and Waffles at Savalas in Brooklyn, NY. Check out "Move to Your City" by Pussi Stout.

****

-the Razor

you are constantly being watched

2007-06-23T14:45:00.001-07:00

always

one eye open,
thwill.

Cuts off the Razor's Edge: II

2007-06-22T16:24:00.000-07:00

What will the kiddies find out about today? You're always fired. Just remember that. Always.

BEATS:
Group: DIGITALISM
Album: IDEALISM

FRAMES:
Film: FREE JACK
starring Emilio Estevez and Mick Jagger

Always four stars. Out of four.

****

- the Razor

expansion

2007-06-22T15:03:00.000-07:00

After careful consideration i have decided i would like the marimba ponies to join tall hands. if not all of them, at least the little asian kid who plays the cymbal. the kid is a P.I.M.P. Him teamed up with the "kicked in the penis kid" CAN'T BE STOPPED! it's like our own little Team Zissou.

love,
thwill

the Terrible Three: Tall Hands Road Crew?

2007-06-22T12:46:00.000-07:00

Tall Hands have been surfing the U.S.A. trying to put together a young and talented crew for our live performances. We narrowed it down to three candidates. Please let us know what you think. Who's gonna carry the weight?

In fact, they may just work as actual band members. But, I definitely think I'm going to take number 3 as our tour manager, if the other lads don't want him in the band.

****

- the Razor

Root Canals are a drag!!!

2007-06-22T01:20:00.000-07:00

I find it difficult to stay in tune with myself after visiting the dentist. And, my head's too big for this bed. Leave me alone, please.

- the Razor

****

summer friend

2007-06-21T16:25:00.000-07:00

Has the summer weather left you yearning to dance in white linens while drinking Campari and soda with a sexy Mediterranean co-ed? Me too. No need to reach for that passport just yet. Ween's new track "Friends" is enough to transform any environment you're in into the discotheque you desire. Now you can use that money you would have spent on an airline ticket to Italy to feed your need for other summertime fun. (read: bbqs, drinks, kiddie pools) thanks to our special friend Mike for pumping this jam last night.

love your special friend,
thwill.

Warp to World Five

2007-06-21T16:00:00.000-07:00

Here's a clip of my first guitar teacher. He's pretty Nar Nar! After being warped to world five, I led a pack of tortured Luigis by torch to a hidden underworld. There we fed gorillaz tongue to foreign speaking koala bears and practiced our blues scales. Carazy!

- the Razor

****

LOOT THE WORLD WITH FLASH JORDAN

2007-06-20T11:16:00.000-07:00

"Instead of tending towards a vast Alexandrian library the world has become a computer, an electronic brain, exactly as an infantile piece of science fiction. And as our senses have gone outside us, Big Brother goes inside. So, unless aware of this dynamic, we shall at once move into a phase of panic terrors, exactly befitting a small world of tribal drums, total interdependence, and superimposed co-existence. [...] Terror is the normal state of any oral society, for in it everything affects everything all the time. [...] In our long striving to recover for the Western world a unity of sensibility and of thought and feeling we have no more been prepared to accept the tribal consequences of such unity than we were ready for the fragmentation of the human psyche by print culture."
- marshall mcluhan, the gutenberg galaxy

*****

*****

THE HISTORY LIE

"history is not doomed to repeat itself. history cannot repeat itself. history, as commonly understood, does not exist... history is a drug: it provides an illusion of control where none exists." - flash jordan, the felt way

how can we explain the seemingly obvious cycle of time? the cycle of creation, collapse, regeneration? the cycle of our shift from an oral society to a literate society and then back again?

much like a man is said to see his life flash before his eyes before experiencing certain and sudden death, time remembers itself as it collapses (the man who loses his hand to an axe thinks only of the joy and pain his hand has brought him). time recognizes itself, leaving an indelible imprint. in turn, humanity has its own recollection of time, and this is known as history. there is no field more wrought with distortion than history, because history exists for the sole purpose of distortion. the closer humanity comes to its own collapse, the more religious humanity becomes about history. the distortions lead to distruction.

why is there history?
man cannot predict events in time or change the course of time, he can only choose:
1)to accept it/reject it
2)to remember it/forget it

and neither of these choices can even be made consciously! this does not mean that humanity is a slave to time, but rather that time is something broader than what man would have it be. man does not yet have workable maths with which to massage time (time moves with humanity as the moon moves with the sea). man can only work with his own recollections, and his recollections of others' recollections: history. history is man's attempt to fool himself into believing that he is in control of time. history is one of man's greatest lies, and its vaulted importance in our society is integral to its own survival as "truth" (one cannot mangle the untouchable; one cannot open a lost box).

how humanity bought the history lie
how has history acquired untouchable status in the western world? through fear. any commonly accepted view of the history of humanity contains terrible events. this terrible remembered past, coupled with the misconception (by the public) that the future can be altered through collective effort, gives the public the illusion of history being a useful tool (history is the bomb that can destory the terrifying unknown coordinates of the future).

the secret danger of history
instead of serving as a tool for the good of humanity, history can only act as chains, wrought by their author for the purpose of furthering the acceptability of the author's decisions regarding his own personal opinions/recollections. all of humanity wants to be loved, and every individual is the conscious center of their own universe. we all desire the great mass of humanity to gather around our perceived order. when an altar is built for history, the scrifices are offered up to the opinions of the men who wrote it.

in conclusion
the statement that "those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it" is false on several levels:
1)no event in time can be replicated willfully or accidentally
2)the chaos of mass individual opinion leaves us forever powerless to change the course of history
3)history is memory. the memory of others. we could only ever learn from history what we could learn from each other. whether this learning is accompanied by the stamp of 'history' or not is irrelevant.

Love, Flash Jordan

Cuts off the Razor's Edge!!!

2007-06-20T10:39:00.000-07:00

Welcome to my new column of grand recommendations. Here you'll find out about music worth listening to and movies worth watching. It's a place to enlarge your head and shrink your heart...or Vica versa depending on the type of lad or lady you are...Watch your step and your mouth as your enter into a world of curiousity and complete utter shine. Here's your first Cuts off the Razor's Edge!

Beats:
Justice †
Frames:
Baraka

Slice of Justice.

Slice of Baraka.

****

- the Razor

Eva Gardner hits Europe with Pink!

2007-06-19T13:41:00.000-07:00

Eva Gardner, one of the best bassists from the great city of Los Angeles leaves tonight for Europe. She'll be playing her first show with PINK at the Malahide Castle on Saturday, June 23rd in Dublin, Ireland. This is the first concert of a three month tour stretching over two continents: Europe and Africa. We all wish her the best of luck, the best of health, and the safest travels. Pink is lucky to have Eva around, not only as a musician in her band, but as an incredible human being.

- the Razor

****

Eva truly is a "Universal Traveler."

Right to the Top, Boys!

2007-06-19T00:11:00.000-07:00

Let's hit it up boys.

Love, Flash

the Rooster Returns to NYC.

2007-06-18T16:45:00.000-07:00

His moves were too quick and the city couldn't handle him. The streets were too narrow and the ceilings too low. The mountains were dominant, but not dominant enough. Everything was dry! So, the rock is dribbled back to the East with the West left on its tippy toes, just trying to look the monster Rooster face to face. Bon Voyage.

- the Razor

Snoqualmie Falls

2007-06-17T17:04:00.000-07:00

i don't care what china says

2007-06-16T12:34:00.000-07:00

you people may be convinced that it's the year of DingHai, or Pig for our English only fans, but here the year of Rooster continues. Last night was one of intoxicating liquid, suspect clouds of smoke, dogs, and dancing-and dancing with dogs, which leads to this day of bloody marys and retreating to the hills of Malibu. so sit back, relax, keep it easy and let the fresh prince take it home.

love,
thwill.

LOOT THE WORLD WITH FLASH JORDAN

2007-06-15T11:39:00.000-07:00

As Father's Day approaches, we in Tall Hands pause to reflect on the wisdom and knowledge we have acquired through our fathers and grandfathers.

THE EMERGING NEW ROLE OF THE MALE
Though recent scientific developments point towards the possibility of a future where the male is no longer an essential part of reproduction, such laboratory-assisted biological progress may actually point towards a more pleasant, relaxing (and yet adventurous!) lifestyle for males.

Freed from the constraints of genetic responsibility, a new male renaissance can flourish, as females repossess their familiar mammalian roles as group leaders, hunters, and providers (Kristeva's dream of the woman perpetual realized "in process"). As man in turn embraces his new role as luxury biological entity, he will be free to immerse himself in art and discovery. Much like Adam, before the creation of woman, was said to freely traverse the earth (naming all of the animals, playing with fire, moving stones from one location to another), the negation of man's bondage to reproduction will free him from his bondage to structural responsibility. Science will loose itself from Greco-Roman confines and find a new intellectual pattern more in line with our biological code.

Without the faux-natural order of typical civilized life hanging over the head of man like the sword of Damocles, Sisyphus can finally toss aside the stone and, for the first time, run without fear. Hopefully, the human brain can once again return to full comprehension for the first time since the cancerous seed of civilization was planted (now we can grow new life without names). Scientists have discovered that only two activities (both spiritual) utilize the entire human brain: 1)speaking in tongues and 2)transcendental meditation. Perhaps, finally cut loose from his own creations, man can once again return to peace (a return to a time when man realized his proper fit).

Love, Flash

***
Complicated Dance Steps.
A great blog packed full of forward-thinking music and lovely, calming tones. Check out new releases from:

TUNNELS
BJORN TORSKE
DEERHUNTER
CIRCLE

among others.

ROOSTER SETS HIS SIGHTS FOR LA

2007-06-15T09:38:00.000-07:00

On this very fine morning, an east coast hoops star known as the Rooster sets his sights for LA. Weaving through terminals and fellow travelers in le port de travel, his killer cross-over dazzles and punishes security checkpoint officers, women, and children. JFK turned MSG echoes in its full glory as each mechanical bounce of the Rooster's golden sphere blasts the ears of nearby civilians with digital pleasure. Rubberneckers in full form, stuck in a still, begin to lurch, screech, and vomit in bewilderment. The feats of a Rooster are too awesome for the conventional being; the beat of his orb too massive for the City of Angels. Thus, in hope of finding a metropolis that can contain his force, "Rooster sets his sights for Los Angeles."

- Razor Sharp

*******

Get Pumped on B-Boy Rock!

FLASHED

2007-06-14T11:33:00.000-07:00

we've been working pretty hard on the new full length, with plenty of songs about violence and political unrest. if it really is true that the medium is the message, then medium is actually large (hopefully well-suited for our times). admittedly, if said medium is also a massage, then maybe the message is too large to suit the masseuse, since (after all) the medium's massive. meditate on that, we're off to barney's for some campers, but you never can find a suit to fit all the world's men. (selah) no matter, modus ponens and all that, sky, lightning, (blankets), giving the cops a hard time: things have been great in los angeles and everyone is missed, but not too much, because we've all got to find a balance, and there's no harm done if the envelope is pushed. soldier on, and we'll all bask in the light of the sun together soon... all in good time, the right time is always best (and always west).

*****

we're going to have a new regular column here on the tall hands page:

LOOT THE WORLD WITH FLASH

that's right, loot it. today we are going to strip germany of everything it has. the merkel backrub was only the starting pistol, and now we're going full-on Dresden on those genetically perfect supermen. "flash, how are we going to do it?" actually, the question is, "how are you going to do it?" because, as far as i'm concerned, it's already done. you have to take it, no one is going to give it to you.

krautrock team.

albums by:
NEU!
CLUSTER
KLUSTER
LA DUSSELDORF
FAUST
HARMONIA

this is only a start, a primer, to the wonderful discoveries that await you. all and all, it's enough to possibly make up for WWII, especially if one considers the contributions to style our german friends made during that momentous time in our world's history. even so, let's go on one last crusade and resdiscover analog sound. hear it again, for the first time (you can't find life in books).

Love, Flash Jordan

What the Fuck LA?

2007-06-14T09:56:00.000-07:00

Tall Hands has arrived in sunny Los Feliz, but we never thought we'd get this warm of a welcome. I mean it's like we're Frenchmen. I guess it may be because everyone knew we were going to put this blog up. Translation: NON-STOP finding out about hot shit for everyone all the mother fucking time. You'll have to wait for our first recommendation which will come from the freshness of the Flash. Don't piss him off.

- the Razor

*****

here's a little tune you can hum that will remind you where we're from....

GO DEEP

2007-06-03T09:47:00.000-07:00

After calling around the whole damn country, we finally found these guys and asked them to go out for sushi. At first they were hesistant, but then we sent them a picture of the couches in our apartment and they were sold. Oddly, when the waiter came over to take our order, they all tried to order cheeseburgers. They ended up drinking a shit of ton of sake and hitting Jack in the Box post our dinner. Overall, a good night, though.

- the Razor

****

The Safe Houses: The Dranks House

2007-06-02T16:30:00.000-07:00

Mania Sets In

2007-06-01T12:00:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the Official Tall Hands Blog. This is Tall Hands' outlet for commentary, new songs, information on events and shows, games, contests, recommendations, discoveries, etc. We're furious and we're not taking it.