Showing posts with label Jeremiah Blues. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jeremiah Blues. Show all posts

Friday, August 22, 2008

Jeremiah Redux

"Jeremiah Blues" exist. It's somewhat like "Fight Club". Only "Lite"-er, decaffeinated, detoxed and Rated-PG (parents-need-guidance). Much of Jeremiah Blues doesn't make sense to anyone outside the Inner Circle of this insidious fraternity (truth be told, much of it doesn't even make sense to the Inner Circle of this insidious fraternity). Therefore, if you don't find anything useful here, please just move on. Go check out Hollywood Babylon if you're interested in porn. There's no porn here. In fact, the Inner Circle is very anti-porn because we once did a study on how it had zero effect in encouraging Pandas to copulate. Now, panda-extinction is a very real issue and panda-porn used to be presented as the cure for the apparent lack of sexual interest among the cuddly bears. Apparently, it had about as much effect as Jack Black's animated feature had in encouraging pandas to take up kung-fu! But for some reason, some weird SIN fundy (usually going by stupid Latin-sounding names like Vincit) actually think that there's a lot of porn here. There's no use reasoning with SIN fundies. They are even less sexually interesting that panda-porn. Anyway, my point is this: if you've had a healthy childhood playing Nintendo, watching Cartoon Network and fantasizing about aborted foetuses, then you'll probably find little here to interest you. In fact, you may even find Jeremiah Blues rather confusing. Some people actually said that we're writing/posting utter rubbish here. Not too far from the truth, I must admit. But then, so was James Joyce...

Last Saturday was an actual off-line, in-the-stinking-flesh gathering of the Inner Circle of the Jeremiah Blues fraternity. Aside from the usual discussions on the aesthetic qualities of European artists against the conveniently-sequential kitsch of American ones, we also ordered an indecent amount of food like normal, ordinary human beings. [Melvin provided the sound bites.] In other words, we had "dim-sum" at a local restaurant while talking about the state of local politics, history, art, philo-loco-sophy, theo-loco-gy and other really deep, introspective shit by the usual gang of idiots. [Melvin provided the sound bites.] The interesting thing about the live-meeting (performance?) was that if any casual bystander stood by and listened in, he/she would have absolutely no idea what we were talking about at all. Never mind that. Most of the time, we couldn't even understand what we ourselves were talking about. [Melvin provided the sound bites.] La Tey was fast asleep after the 20th hour. Pltypus and I were still going on and on and on. We ran out of topics and actually went into therapy (with Pltypus charging RM80 a pop). [Melvin provided the sound bites.] Shesha smoke was in the air, in our lungs and in our heads. That kept us awake. The shesha-man gave a lecture on how the shesha-pipe worked. We should probably invite him to chair future Jeremiah-meetings. Nobody could understand a word he said!!! But we all nodded in agreement anyway. [Melvin provided the sound bites.] My point (and I do have one) is this, the Inner Circle of the Jeremiah Blues fraternity is identical in real-life as they are in blog-life. Deep and nonsensical at the same time. But then, so was James Joyce.....

In some ways, Jeremiah Blues was about the struggle for independence. We had our little Boston Tea Party and decided that enough was enough. Some centuries down the line, historians will pore over every word that we've written down here and conclude that we were right in the midst of a revolution - heck, that our names will forever be linked to the greatest revolution ever in human history. But that is to be expected. Uncle Screwtape was said to have memorized "Ecce Homo" on his way to the school lavatory one day when he was in Primary Three. As for La Tey, he was said to have discovered the truth behind all existence in some weird S&M ritual involving a hammerhead-shark in latex and an electric-drill customized according to the diameter of one of his orifices that I will refrain from mentioning lest I offend the sensibilities of some of our more tender readers. As for Pltypus, he saw the light after the 58,239th viewing of "The Deer Hunter" and "Blade Runner" side-by-side on his TV screen and notebook LCD screen. It was said that his experience was akin to an epiphany and he finally figured out the real motives behind Rutger Hauer's mysterious actions saving Han Solo at the end of the movie. Pltypus was last seen sitting silently below the Virgin (probably the only Lady that could make him shut up). As for Melvin? Well, he provided the sound bites and we all love him for that. I don't know about James Joyce. I was told that he once made some list that provided him instant Nirvana. The list went something like that:

Stephen

Dublin

Ireland

World

Universe

God

Universe

World

Ireland

Dublin

Stephen

Wanna join up?

Jeremiah Blues is open for enrollment.

So you say you want a revolution?

Friday, May 16, 2008

The Gang's All 'Ere In Jeremiah's

T'was a hot night at Jeremiah's.
Free-flowin' drinks.
Drunks cussin' in the corner.
Even the horses outside were drunk.
Lord Steven let loose a mean guitar solo.
He was tryin' to be Ramli Sarip in a time when even Ramli Sarip is long gone.
[Last heard, Ramli Sarip was sellin' mee siam somewhere in the Land of SIN!]

Jesse Custer. They call him the "Rev'rend" or the "Preach'r Man".
He was drunk like a horse and smokin' like his life depended on it.
He started talkin' about God and this Genesis entity.
Scared the bejeezus out of us that night.
La Tey was there that night. Reading Barth and Rauschenbusch.
He wasn't payin' much attention but he knew Genesis.
Said it was a composite built from the remnants of other traditions.
Lord Steven let loose another mean guitar solo.
He was tryin' to be Ramli Sarip in a time when even Ramli Sarip is long gone.
[Last heard, Ramli Sarip was sellin' mee siam somewhere in the Land of SIN!]

Tommy Monaghan proposed a toast.
He was havin' this cigarette between his lips
while munchin' on a fat-ass burger.
He talked about Ireland and a friend who slaughtered chickens over a bet.
The friend won the bet but misunderstood the whole thin'.
Pltypus came in and mistook Monaghan for Michael Madsen.
Monaghan was amused and return'd the favour.
"Aren't you the bollocks called Mike from "The Deer Hunter?"
Pltypus gave a shit-eatin' grin and bought Monaghan another drink.
Lord Steven let loose another mean guitar solo.
He was tryin' to be Ramli Sarip in a time when even Ramli Sarip is long gone.
[Last heard, Ramli Sarip was sellin' mee siam somewhere in the Land of SIN!]

Lobo sat outside on top of a pile of SIN crap.
He just scared the bejeezus out of some SIN fundies going on and on about "meditations".
[Turns out that the pile of crap are made up of some SIN fundies lurking about outside Jeremiah's trying to anathemize the patrons ...]
Lobo sat outside on top of a pile of SIN crap.
He's not stepping into Jeremiah's as long as Tommy Monaghan is there.
Never failed to remind Lobo about that incident with Bueno Excellente.
Stupid bastich Monaghan.
Lobo will get 'im someday.
Lobo will get all 'em bastichs someday.
But not tonight.
Tonight, Lobo sits outside Jeremiah's on top of a pile of SIN crap.
He's enjoyin' the music but not the company.
Lord Steven let loose another mean guitar solo.
He was tryin' to be Ramli Sarip in a time when even Ramli Sarip is long gone.
[Last heard, Ramli Sarip was sellin' mee siam somewhere in the Land of SIN!]

Next came Jenny Sparks.
She spoke Brit while the rest of us struggled with our Engleess.
She's one classy broad. Calls herself the Spirit of the 20th Century.
Screwtape joined her at the bar.
Screwtape start'd talkin' about how his "mojo" is back
and he's gotta release some of that somewhere.
Jenny Sparks asked for a cigarette.
"I've only got one," Screwtape replied.
"I only want one!" Jenny said.
Screwtape gave her the cigarette and she explain'd
about how the world is now "under new managem'nt".
Screwtape thought she was talkin' about the Illuminati and all that shit.
She mention'd somethin' about the Authority and the Monarchy.
And 'bout the time they kick'd the blue-skinned rapists who invaded our galaxy.
Then she walked out and stretched her body.
Lobo nearly choked on his cigarette and accidentally let loose a fart on the pile of SIN crap.
Then Jenny was gone.

Screwtape stepped out of the pub nursin' a painful hard-on.
Looked at Lobo and gave 'im a shit-eatin' grin.
"She's quite a piece of work, eh?"
Lobo grunted and turned away.
Jenny was gone.

Lord Steven let loose his final guitar solo.
He was tryin' to be Ramli Sarip in a time when even Ramli Sarip is long gone.
[Last heard, Ramli Sarip was sellin' mee siam somewhere in the Land of SIN!]

'Twas a hot night at Jeremiah's.
The gang was all there that night.