The New Police

new collages by Brad Hamers

2012-01-28T12:47:00.001-08:00

Broke As Me. (Tom Waits Beat Tape). by Big Pauper.

2012-01-28T12:33:00.000-08:00

"This is "Bad As Me" by Tom Waits remixed track for track (in two and a half weeks time) by Big Pauper (Circle Into Square, Folktek) on some serious blowing-off-steam lighthearted i-wanna-feel-good-n-have-fun beat tape shit. This album was a creative exercise in rapid fire beat construction. While the two and a half weeks it took Pauper to create this isn't exactly light speed, it sure beats the seven year duration it took him to complete the "Beyond My Means" LP.

Remixes were constructed using the original songs, other Tom Waits material, a recent Tom Waits interview on NPR, 60's japanese gangster flicks, the occasional czech new wave flick, a bunch of instruments & a couple of stacks of records/tapes.
Short n' sweet, this record was created with nothing but the utmost respect for Mister Tom Waits & all sampled artists. It is unauthorized & unaffiliated with Anti Records.
Now BUY "Bad As Me" at http://www.anti.com/ .. and love that shit.Tom is back!!" ..-Big Pauper

an excerpt of 'Strikethrough' by Brad Hamers

2012-01-10T18:30:00.000-08:00

cop canister to the head
cry me an aluminum funnel
oil me a sharp but slippery sentence
stop me before ‘demands’
crop me out at the creamery
grab as many free condiment packets as you can
police beanbags to the head
the media was (a) hit (late) bruised and changing color
smoke makes the best protest
the medics form a line
at the grapevine all the way back from the telegraph
arms stiff from holding up out-dated math (and symbol)
rubber bullet to the head
runner full of what he said
(the vine) pulled a capsaicin on a starting gun
(we’re)bummed down to standing up
no-vote first through the bottom line
really, put my socks on my hand ?
okay the river wants to vote for the damn, half the creek only makes noise because it won’t give in, where clinton lands capital letter first through the support beams, like lobbyists ain’t sunlight, (and microsoft word can really read the bible) or both sides ain’t the same coin,
red line under my name, pig blanket over my head, cry me an oil drill,
both baskets are in it to make money,
kiss me a wallet, show me receipts
one flash grenade to the chest
two words away from a sound
a thousand steps back
and another country later
molotov breadbasket to a cop
every tear to my head
this puddle of rips
forms a pond
and swamps
every ipad afire
tear gas canister to the head
be dead on a bright light, the vacuum on a camera
attract all the moth you can,
until you lose your clothes
then farm
a hundred riot police later, when we become immune to pepper spray
some white-shirt scarecrow still hold their perch
as if they wasn’t just props
as if thanksgiving weren’t only dinner
i ate 3 states and a southern half of another
threw up like a parachute over Cayuse territory
landed like scotch tape on a rip in the dollar
thrown off the Blue Mountains
white flag first
red and black after that
linguistically independent
no one understood
understand my face to the ground
...
(TO READ FULL POEM..CLICK HERE!!)

Big Pauper's 2012 'Busy Year' List

2012-01-08T13:14:00.000-08:00

CHECK IT OUT!! CLICK HERE

Big 200 ART SHOW TODAY!!!

2011-12-10T13:09:00.000-08:00

250+ ARTISTS...ALL ART $40

Art by Brad Hamers for The Big 200 show

2011-12-07T15:27:00.001-08:00

Big 200 show...this Saturday! ALL ART $40 cash/carry http://peoplesartofportland.com/

Art by Jennifer Griffo for The Big 200 show

2011-12-07T15:22:00.001-08:00

Big 200 show...this Saturday! ALL ART $40 http://peoplesartofportland.com/

Art by Emily Bates for the Upcoming Big 200 show

2011-12-07T15:13:00.000-08:00

Big 200 show..this Sat. 12/10 at the Peoples Art Of Portland Gallery http://peoplesartofportland.com/

Dust On Snow (Brad Hamers & Frietboer) - You Were Murdered As A Kid ...OUT NOW!!!

2011-10-01T12:17:00.000-07:00

Dust On Snow – You Were Murdered As A Kid (2011)

Dust On Snow is a collaborative musical project, an agitated and frothing monster created by poet, musician and collage artist, Brad Hamers and beat-maker/producer, Frietboer. On this 8 track debut EP, Brad Hamers (Phlegm, Two Ton Sloth, New Police) provides the words and Frietboer (Frietboerism 1/5, Fiks, Fris & Dood) supplies the beats. Created back and forth over the internet (between The Netherlands and Portland, OR) in the course of a year, You Were Murdered As A Kid is 25 minutes of heavy, hard-hitting, head-nodding mayhem. The EP is AVAILABLE NOW for download at: http://dustonsnow.bandcamp.com/album/you-were-murdered-as-a-kid …for ONLY $2.99 (WITH THE OPTION TO GIVE MORE IF YOU DESIRE!!). Proceeds go directly to the artist. The album comes with all the lyrics (each poem in its own Word document) and all the associated Artwork (done by Brad especially for the project). READ ALONG!! And ENJOY!! ...(digital release only)...

Dust On Snow (Brad Hamers & Frietboer) - You Were Murdered As A Kid ...EP drops TOMORROW!

2011-09-29T17:17:00.001-07:00

POSTER #2 by Brad

Art Show TONIGHT!!

2011-09-29T17:10:00.000-07:00

work by Jennifer, Brad, Emily & many many other artists

Dust On Snow - You Were Murdered As A Kid ..(09/30/11)

2011-09-23T21:07:00.000-07:00

(DOS POSTER 1)
Brad Hamers & Frietboer will drop their debut 8 track EP next Friday..Sept. 30th 2011
check out the 2 tracks they've already released HERE

Big Pauper's NEW Official WEBSITE

2011-09-23T21:04:00.000-07:00

lots of goodies....CLICK HERE

New Paintings by Emily Bates

2011-09-23T20:53:00.000-07:00

COME TO THE 88 STRONG SHOW AT THE GOODFOOT THIS THURS. (9/29)

Video-Bending Instruments For Sale from Big Pauper

2011-09-23T20:41:00.000-07:00

Modified WJ-Ave3 w/ Control Box.
Big Pauper: "Expanding upon the design of Karl Klomp this WJ-ave3 is the ultimate live glitch visual production tool. Every professional VJ should have one of these in their arsenal. As far as bending goes these things are like the SK1 of video world. It has an amazing way of fragmenting, fractaliz-ing and freaking whatever video you process through it. It can take any incoming audio and (if loud enough) profoundly glitch the visuals in a variety of unique ways.. all in real-time. I built a control box with a number of body contacts and potentiometers, all patchable for added control. I find that I don't always want to rely on an audio input for my projects with this thing so that the control box allows you to bypass that and produce a variety of dry effects otherwise impossible to produce. My modified WJ has 9 glitch ports, 5 ports for the audio signal (one with it's own independent wet/dry knob), 4 patchable body contacts, 4 patchable potentiometers and also functions perfectly in it's original unmodified state."

FOR SALE at: http://djpz.com/

Fritz Control Surface.
Big Pauper: "The Fritz Control Surface is a grimy and glitchy circuit bent video effects box loaded with it's own strange charm and character. This device is capable of taking whatever composite (RCA) video footage you feed it and mangling it in a variety of noisy, disruptive and antisocial manners. It has a surprisingly wide array of different effects. It has ten knob based effects, three buttons that produce wild graphical noise and a patchable six-point sound-impulse based tonal manipulation section (put simply, music messes with colors). It is an incredibly stable series of bends perfect for producing dismal satellite transmissions, blocky 8-bit crap-scapes and vibrant lo-fi color drones. It is one of those beasts that the more I sit down with it the more new and weird effect combinations I discover."

New work from Brad Hamers

2011-09-17T13:01:00.001-07:00

some pieces to be featured at the upcoming 88 Strong show at The Goodfoot...last Thurs.

New work from Jennifer Griffo

2011-09-17T12:53:00.000-07:00

to be featured at the upcoming 88 Strong show at the Goodfoot in SE Portland...last Thursday...come check it out!

Big Pauper has an INTERVIEW in the new issue of HIGH TIMES magazine!

2011-09-17T12:48:00.000-07:00

HIGH TIMES ARTIST OF THE MONTH!

Brad Hamers' skit for Fiks

2011-09-17T12:45:00.000-07:00

Frietboer's NEW album/documentary: FIKS

2011-09-17T12:40:00.000-07:00

Direct download link: http://dl.frietboerism.nl/Fiks.zip

Documentary: http://vimeo.com/28395298

stream: http://3voor12.vpro.nl/speler/luisterpaal/45083818 Enjoy

if the day propelled..she was his gunpowder..by Brad

2011-08-31T09:13:00.000-07:00

Brad's wedding present to Drew & Martha! Congrats again!

Big Pauper's NEW music video for Big Spider's Back

2011-08-14T11:58:00.000-07:00

Video by Big Pauper. 2011.
(http://www.circleintosquare.com/artist/big-pauper)

Big Spider's Back - Black Chow.
Available on Memory Man from Circle Into Square
(http://www.circleintosquare.com/item/memory-man)

Surrealist Show featuring New work from Jennifer Griffo

2011-08-11T14:45:00.000-07:00

show stays up at The Globe in SE Portland through the first Thursday of September

New collage work from Brad Hamers

2011-07-19T13:19:00.001-07:00

Check out the new Big Pauper interview in the current issue of HUMANIZE (page 6-7)

2011-07-19T12:15:00.000-07:00

http://www.humanizemag.com/

Jennifer Griffo & Emily Bates Show at The Mash Tun

2011-07-19T11:53:00.000-07:00

Here's some of Emily's wonderful work:

CLICK HERE TO SEE MORE
The Mash Tun Brew Pub • 2204 NE Alberta St • Portland, Oregon 97211 • 503.548.4491
show is up until July 28th

Brad & Jennifer are NOW showing NEW work at The Globe

2011-07-19T11:45:00.000-07:00

show is up through August 4th, 2011

Dust On Snow - Perfect Flop

2011-06-08T17:25:00.001-07:00

Dust On Snow - Perfect Flop by brad hamers
Dust On Snow (Brad Hamers & Frietboer) - Perfect Flop
...song was originally released on a compilation by Chroniques Electroniques (out of France) called Beat Abstraction...GET IT FREE HERE: www.chroniqueselectroniques.net/article-compilation-chroniques-electroniques-beat-abstraction-75916776.html
....song will also appear on Dust On Snow's upcoming EP...dropping this summer!

here's the lyrics:

dinner was ruined over drug addiction and grudges
ancient ruins sunbathing in a century’s worth of camera flash
the dinner plate waits to be called a killer
the fork sits by sleeping in an (on duty) pig
the culture aint shit without its pen &pad, its badge and handcuffs
how does one unaffordable guitar become jimi
where does the jaw ajar crack open full of grape jelly
when does this hundredth whip and beating become a hit
(it’s either Katrina or the Dust bowl)
the way the swamp knows the clouds (and the clouds know the top of mountains)
everything about to rain was black and blue
blood in my kisses
cut knees on the bent end of my wishes
breakfast was spoiled over a turned up alarm that wouldn’t go back to snooze
i smack myself in the face and put my lips out for kissing
the round bell rang out sweat from last game
every contestant under a half-eaten donut spitting out rope and ice
god was ruined over by a bulldozer size camera light in its face
we all lived in the burnt down buildings that were left
i was in the library still caught afire with a dear friend
every mammoth in the room bleeding out imitation chocolate (in 2for1 wrappers)
every way to bring up the past had a hunter on its tusks
for every minute is ivory
every second a just passed saber tooth tiger (all yesterday’s are extinct)
dinner was ruined over keeping our mouths shut
couldn’t fit a pyramid in between these unspoken words
though we kept a desert between us
i can be your mirage at one end your endless gas tank your 3thousand foot drill
you can be the ripped up cactus the wheelbarrow of upturned weed
whatever you think i think of you
my weeds meant to be flowers
out-on-parole spirit pretending to swing his chains (above his head)
never meant to throw them at the fan or at you (i hope the world doesn’t become my pronouncement of it)
i hope you haven’t caught my heavy heart
only so many can float on this crashed space shuttle (in this little of lake)
before it sinks or bursts into flames
i hope you brought your empty pockets
(plenty to give if you don’t care about money)
i hope your star brought its planets and moons
this popped balloon never ends
only goes on repeating itself in the jumbled head of the cosmos over and over again
it’s laugh or cry sing or shut the fuck up
fast or get fat make a seat or sit in one someone else made
critical thinking sits out like spoiled chicken in its unregistered vehicle flipping through channels on the sun
…
tongues like fences white can’t remember where it first heard it ‘I just like the way the sheep jump over it’ the way it rolls off my numb mind, sterilized fork nothing to say
but what hits the laziest drum in the back of my ear
i say bring riots back
i say bring back confidence
(come back (with handfuls of face) laughing yourself to tears)
i say take back stimulation
fight off the security guards
stand outside your own magazine
fuck money and fuck money
putting your hand in it is like (talking your tie out of the fax machine) (or your way into a pair of gold handcuffs) (rock ‘em like a lonely mountain top) (just make sure you know you’re only worth the coal underneath you) (just know i meant everything as serious as a circus tent caught afire) (just know i lit it all up in flames for you)
we are what we are doing
we only are what we are doing
if i’m buying in it’s still got its censor tag (and aftershock of rent-a-cop)
if i’m selling out, i must be buried, deep as china
i don’t own my values
its running makeup precedes me

choked up on the sad dinner (banging my chest on the kitchen table)
dull stake knife in the Corinthian column
dust in between the spoons
dreams been sleeping too long
ad-savvy sheep mingling with the never ending pile of loose sweaters
clones fucking too many clones
if only the virus didn’t write itself
if only the earth wasn’t made of the space around it
if only gravity were something easy to explain
painting with my elbows on the table
a lion hit the window
we all leaned over
shoulder deep in civilization
asking for a hand to swat the flies
couldn’t get to work through everyone’s wings
you call it equal opportunity, i’ll call it air and light pollution
you call it Operation Would You Please, Operation Odyssey Dawn, i’ll buzz hitting the sides of my carved heart on the edge of the snare counting us all in

well i say fuck contemporary rich
i say write a new dictionary
define the reasoning gone into the definition of value
or myth i’ll die awake in a hat full of rabbits like loose change tails end up in an open guitar case each of us are these streets are the clogged veins ever-undergoing surgery pray for jello upon waking i say only get on one knee and ask to be engaged the elements are sluts no nerve-ending turns us down
(i say) jump from the closest built-up ruin and splash
perfect favorite number first into the muddy (displaced) current

the only seeing-mask you need is built in

Brad Hamers recently made an album cover for Freitboer

2011-06-08T16:58:00.000-07:00

brad calls the collage "baptism by television"

Siiiiiiccckk NEW VIDEO from Big Pauper...(song off his new solo LP)

2011-05-09T22:29:00.000-07:00

Video and Music by: Big Pauper (song off 'Beyond My Means' LP)
(created using Big Pauper's home-made circuit bent video instruments)

Brad Hamers & Big Pauper kick off their Europe Tour in London THIS FRIDAY!

2011-05-08T11:16:00.000-07:00

Beyond Our Means TOUR 2011 (Brad Hamers & Big Pauper) performing in Europe

2011-05-01T21:58:00.000-07:00

Beyond Our Means Tour - Europe - May 2011 (Brad will be on the road and in the air with Big Pauper...each performing separate sets)...check the dates below!

-Friday May 13th London, UK (Inspiral Lounge)

-Saturday May 14th Amsterdam, Netherlands (TBA)

-Sunday May 15th Hilversum, Netherlands (Het Wapen van Hilversum)

-Wednesday May 18th Muenster, Germany (SpecOps)

-Thursday May 19th Oberhausen, Germany (Drukluft/Oberhausen - skribble wohnzimmer)

-Friday May 20th Paris, France (The Gambetta)

-Saturday May 21st Berne, Switzerland (Raum)

-Monday May 23rd Zurich, Switzerland (TBA /unconfirmed)

-Tuesday May 24th Augsburg, Germany (Schwarezes Schaf)

GO CHECK THEM OUT! THEY HOPE TO SEE YOU THERE!

(US West Coast Tour Dates Coming Soon)

"One of the best patches from [Big Pauper's] Folktek Collection for Kontakt"

2011-05-01T21:50:00.000-07:00

The Folktek Collection Vol. 1 For Kontakt.
Available Now from http://folktek.com/vst

Seth Brown (Why I Must Be Careful, Merce Cunningham Duo) performing on an enormous MIDI keyboard keyed in to a mod-wheel based multi-sampled Folktek noise instrument from the Folktek Collection Vol. 1 for Kontakt. Rich and atmospheric sound designs are possible with the Folktek Collection. It's great for the Folktek fan on a budget (and a laptop).

Hallucinogenic brain-feed visuals by Big Pauper. (http://djpz.com)
Original Patches also by Big Pauper.
Based on the instruments of Ben Houston and Arius Blaze.
(http://folktek.com)

(Over 6 years in the making) Big Pauper's New Full-Length LP..Beyond My Means..is AVAILABLE NOW!!!

2011-05-01T21:38:00.000-07:00

Big Pauper has had a busy twenty six years on earth. Formerly performing under the name Panzah Zandahz, Portland's Big Pauper is an acclaimed producer, deejay and visual artist with a penchant for forgotten media and discarded technologies. His ten year stint managing the abstract hip hop label Token Recluse found a wide variety of projects in his lap. Pauper established himself with the notoriety of a full length cut and paste reinterpretation of first Radiohead, and then Beck. In their wake, Pauper performed at Scribble Jam & the Red Bull Music Academy, toured Europe a handful of times and worked with the likes of Two Ton Sloth, Cut Chemist and the Dandy Warhols. Big Pauper also has been producing circuit bent video work within the world-renowned sound art collective Folktek and gearing his projects towards a variety of video-art installations.

His most recent effort "Beyond My Means" sits comfortably somewhere between a 93 era instrumental hip hop record and some of the best downtempo electronic work out there today. It is a dusty, glitchy and often times noisy tapestry of found sounds, VHS beats and analog synth textures. The album has it's roots deep in sixties psych rock, the dregs of new age tape crustiness, our waning industrial society and most evidently, schlock cinema (everything from Portuguese horror, to the sleaziest of nunsploitation). The album draws comparisons to recent works from the Books, Broadcast, Odd Nosdam and Edan. Beyond My Means unfolds like a grindhouse double feature, that private press record you can't believe you found, or your third eye chakra babbling on after a group reiki session.

CLICK HERE TO LISTEN & PURCHASE

New collage pieces by Brad Hamers (to sell on upcoming Europe Tour)

2011-05-01T21:28:00.001-07:00

New FREE -Six Ton Armor- B-movie Psych Mix by BIG PAUPER

2011-04-19T11:53:00.000-07:00

SixTonArmor.com presents:

"At The Movies vol.1"
FREE exclusive VHS-movie-psych mix from Big Pauper...featuring some some rare and unreleased dirty psych bangers from the vault. Enjoy!

CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD MIX

New FREE Compilation featuring Brad Hamers (& many more dope artists)

2011-04-19T11:42:00.000-07:00

From Cooler Than Cucmbers Records (out of France):

"Cooler Than Cucumbers Records presents 'Salade de Concombres Vol. 1' is yet another step we take in the record industry. It's been almost a year in the making and it is today our greatest accomplishment, 34 songs featuring artists from all over the world (Japan, France, different parts of the US, Portugal, Hawaii and more). We decided to release it for free for people to enjoy freely without any constraints, for people to embrace music they couldn't or wouldn't in any other way, sharing is definitely caring.

credits
released 30 March 2011
2econdClassCitizen, AbSUrd, Authentic, Awards, Brad Hamers, Braden Smith, Brzowski, Ceschi, Felicis, Ghostpuncher Deluxe, Half Actors, Ira Lee, Iron Fillings and Sellotape, James P Honey, Jiké, Jo Jetson, Matt Gamin, Melodica Deathship, Mouse Kills Tiger, Mr Moods, Murmur Breeze, Noblonski & Morbidly O Beats, Nomar Slevik, Pangaea, Papervehicle, Pierre The Motionless & Swordplay, Pumpernickle, Summon and Smear, Rezult, Sapience, Selfhelp, The Beastmaster, The Infidels, Walter Gross, Wormhole & Kaigen, Ghost Notes, Agent 8, Mattr, Staplemouth, Nemeses, Cheese, 34 Pro, T-Pick, Manraygun, The Walrus Nose, Edison, Meiso, Lxor.

Demonic mastering by James Reindeer.
Artwork & graphic layouts by holy Albane.

CLICK HERE OR HERE FOR FREE DOWNLOAD

Some More Circuit-Bent Video Works by Big Pauper

2011-04-19T11:26:00.000-07:00

Fritz Control Surface. 2010.
Big Pauper:
"This thing is great, it has a variety of different startling lo-fi visual effects. It's good for wash outs, line seperation and by using the three buttons at the top functions as a visual noise generator. I added a weird little patchable sound glitch interface that creates throbbing horizontal distortions that effect only the colors."

Fritz Control Surface. 2010.
"A close up of the weird little patchable control for creating sound based visual distortions that effect only the colors."

Modified Panasonic Mixer. 2010.
Big Pauper:
"These are my favorite. This arrived in the mail with some issues so it never quite worked right to begin with. Sound triggered glitch splendor. I just knocked a television over on top of this thing and broke the control circuit. Major bummer."

Modified Panasonic Mixer. 2010.
"Also pictured is the television I knocked over on to it. I was not meant to have nice things."

CLICK HERE TO INQUIRE ABOUT PURCHASING ONE OF BIG PAUPER'S VIDEO-BENDING INSTRUMENTS

recent drawings & oil paintings from Jennifer Griffo

2011-04-19T11:07:00.000-07:00

Master Hushington MD

2011-04-11T18:44:00.000-07:00

Our Long March Toward The Apocalypse by Victor Sousa

2011-04-10T11:45:00.000-07:00

I read Zizek's First as Tragedy, then as Farce yesterday in its entirety; while my friends drank beer at the Brazen Head--typical proletarians all--I chose instead to think.

Having read a couple books by Zizek now, I have come to the conclusion that the thing I like about him best is his embrace of the notion that Action and Thought are not inimical to one another and, furthermore, that the latter is more important. When the financial meltdown of 2008 happened we were told that there was no time to think, that we had to act without thought. But, this wasn't such a special scenario: in the day-to-day run of things, we don't act because there is no time to think, we act instead of thinking--as a way of actively avoiding the horror of our predicament. We refuse to acknowledge that capitalism is fundamentally irrational and, followed through to its logical conclusion, will lead to collective suicide.

The irony is that, by definition, the engine of Capitalism is the rational, self-interested, activity of individuals; no one is arguing this point. In theory, there is a capitalism of goods and services that increases the productivity per capita in society and the overall well-being of everyone (the capitalism of "better mouse traps" and self-made titans of industry); but this "clean" capitalism is under-girded by a system of rampant speculation--in short, it makes a gambler out of society as a whole. How often have we heard populist demagogues deride Wall Street as a Casino? But I say to you, WTF did they think it was? Anyone involved with capitalist investment knows that it begins with the calculation of risk--and that the greater the risk, the greater the potential for reward. This is the same thing that goes through the heads of poker players.

Of course, this rational calculation becomes radically skewed when you can make a bet that someone else has to pay for when you lose; this is the very definition of moral hazard--and it's EXACTLY what happened when our government propped up the finance industry with a trillion fucking dollars! But, wasn't it a rational action on the part of the financial speculators to create a climate of legislation and political culture that made this totally insane policy decision a matter-of-course? And, after all, who can we trust with advice concerning our economic decisions besides the "experts"--the same people who are ripping us off! They made outrageous bets, and constructed a Ponzi scheme, on an epic scale, because they knew that they wouldn't have to pay the consequences when they lost. The government for its part really had no choice; the markets needed reassurance--credit default swaps may be an intangible abstraction, but empty bellies and riots on the street are a concrete reality.

Furthermore, Zizek argues that the notion that we can expunge corruption from capitalism by fostering a culture of responsible citizenship is absurd. Capitalism is corrupt by its very nature. I won't elaborate on this bold statement--but I will ask you to contemplate why history is so full of hostility towards the "sin of usury." Of course, usury in our society is the air we breath; we live in a system that is designed to make us debt slaves through credit cards, student loans, inflation, depressed wages, and the extreme excitation of consumer appetites. The natural compulsion that made people abhor the notion of wealth that was unearned, and did not contribute to the material/cultural/intellectual wealth of the society as a whole, is now totally gone. In our society, the financiers are the "Masters of the Universe." It's right there in front of us, as clear as day for everyone to see. We're talking about the moral equivalency of feudal serfdom here: the financial overlords are conspiring--weather consciously or not--to reduce the population into a servile underclass. And the way people act, this is just the natural order of things. More than anything else, the aspect of capitalist ideology that makes it so formidable is its ability to masquerade as an anti-ideology--a natural expression of human nature, the default mode of civilization.

And, maybe, there might be some truth in that; I'm not certain. It certainly seems to be the case that capitalism is ascendant; it has become internationalized and divorced from the Enlightenment Project that provided its original milieu. Just look around: China took from Western Civilization the capitalist mode of production, and said "no thanks" to liberal-democracy, while in the States Communism--a philosophy that embraces "equality" and "fraternity" like no other--has become an ethic that dares not speak its name.

Which leads me to a personal revelation: what the hell happened to the Radical Left in this country? They don't even get a seat at the table, while libertarians like Rand Paul get time on network TV to tell people that "there are no rich people or poor people, only one interconnected economy"--so let's just get off the corporations' backs, huh, because Exxon Mobile and Lehman Brothers are people just like you and me--and they want to be free too! Listening to this type of shit, it seems like the Right has already won; they won the battle of hearts and minds: "rare are those who dare even to dream utopian dreams about possible alternatives" because "utopias of alternative worlds have been exorcised by the utopia in power, masking itself as pragmatic realism."

Yet, and this is the part of Zizek's argument that I found the most intriguing, Communism remains a powerful idea--even though we dare not speak its name. It exists as a kind of Platonic ideal--always as an ill-defined, and barely apprehended, possibility--a yearning for an escape. Nothing can destroy it, despite the fact that the critics are right: it has failed in practice, in all times and places. It has always led to repression of dissent, and, frequently, to a totalitarian police-state, yet it remains a specter haunting the political discourse. In Zizek's formulation it remains our only hope: Try Again, Fail Again, Fail Better. Communism is "a dream which thrives on its own impossibility."

And, we have to try because the problems facing our now-global civilization are so vast that they can only be termed "apocalyptic." Furthermore, these problems are symptoms of the capitalist system--and they are not tangentially related, but directly. The pending ecological disaster, depletion of natural resources, the widening chasm between the plutocracy and the productive members of society, the inability of countries forcibly integrated into the "global economy" to feed themselves: all of these problems are part and parcel with the capitalist insistence that rational self-interest will save us all. The consequences of this non-ideology will be the End, my friends...

Do you hear the sound of the wind whistling through abandoned city-scapes? That's the sound of our future, if we can't wake up. After all, what do you think all those day traders and investment bankers were thinking during the 2000s? On some level, they must have known that they couldn't pass the buck of sub-prime mortgages around forever--that at some point someone would be left holding the bag (the tax payers, as it turned out). They wanted to keep on dreaming. It's like when you're a little kid and you don't want to get up for school; you say: "just five more minutes, just five more minutes..." Collectively, as a civilization, this is what we are doing. We dream sweet dreams, while on a fragile raft floating down a stream, headed for a waterfall with hard rocks below. The mother fucking apocalypse!

So where does this leave us? What should we do? Should you go down to Wall Street and start throwing bricks through the windows? Well, that would be a start! But, Zizek is not suggesting that. Zizek suggests this: Obey, but think. He seems to believe that there is some value in "just thinking." "Meme warfare" is not a term he uses--but, I think it's applicable. (If you don't know what a "meme" is, please look it up--it's important!) Maybe the battle of hearts and minds isn't lost; after all, remember the moment of Obama's election victory, only two years ago. The enthusiasm was real; people felt the sensation of the impossible become real, even as it remained seemingly impossible. The reality of Obama's continuation of policies that prop-up capitalist institutions aside, he reminded us that history is more open than we might suppose. It is this suggestion of a cognitive revolution that may be his greatest gift to us. A revolution that begins not with thoughtless action--a la Nazi thugs--but Thought before Action. As Gahndi formulated it, be the change you wish to see in the world. And, as Krishnamurti suggested: the only true revolution will be a revolution of intelligence.

For your edification:
a) http://zizek.us/tragedy/
b) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X2DRm5ES-uA
c) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hpAMbpQ8J7g

Support Brad Hamers & Big Pauper's Fundraiser for their Upcoming Euro Tour (& get one-of-a-kind ART in exchange)

2011-02-27T12:42:00.000-08:00

The Plan:
Brad Hamers (cult poet, musician, collage artist, mental gymnast) & Big Pauper (acclaimed mash-up artist, electronic/psychedelic hip hop producer, circuit bent visual artist and all around crackpot scientist) are fund-raising for their upcoming tour of Europe. With little cash, too many instruments and a suitcase full of art & records, they are headed overseas in May, 2011 to play as many shows as possible, promote their new solo projects and find themselves (with a tape recorder) in the middle of as many interesting situations as they can. Back in the Fall of 2007 Brad Hamers & Big Pauper successfully toured Europe together as Two Ton Sloth, then put out a record with the sounds and experiences they gathered while there. This time they will each be performing their own separate acts, specially cooked up (with secret ingredients) for the occasion. They will be creating and selling art & music on the road, as well as collecting field-recordings for the next Two Ton Sloth project.

Brad & Big Pauper are greatly appreciative of any donation amount you are able and willing to give. With that money, the two artists will be able to reach more cities and more people with their music & art, as well as create more music & art on their travels. In exchange for a pledge (depending upon the amount) they are offering (here on kickstarter only) a variety of unique packages, all containing either one-of-a-kind visual art, video experiments or an exclusive track. Each pledge reward will be entirely different than the next and will be for you and you only. This is a rare opportunity to receive custom-made work by both artists, and at a bargain price. If you'd like a chance to support good art and hard-working artists, here's your opportunity. Brad Hamers & Big Pauper thank you very much...And assure you that your money will be put to good use!

CLICK HERE TO DONATE!

and here's what they are offering for the different pledge amounts:

Pledge $20 or more:
Only Children: Exclusive one-of-a-kind hand-made art booklets containing an original collage on the cover and a hand-typed poem on the inside...each one is entirely different from the next.

Pledge $50 or more:
Exclusive Track: A recording created only for you, by either Brad Hamers or Big Pauper (or both of them together). You will receive your very own custom-made audio track, for your ears only.

Pledge $50 or more:
Experimental Video: Each video is made exclusively for you & created using custom-made circuit-bent-video instruments & original audio (either a song or spoken-word piece). Note: Each work is completely different from the next.

Pledge $100 or more:
You get an album of your choosing by both artists plus every other pledge to accompany it.

Big Pauper's long-awaited New Solo LP...COMING SOON!

2011-02-22T20:00:00.000-08:00

Art Opening TONIGHT: Portland Love Show

2011-02-12T11:57:00.000-08:00

featuring work by Brad Hamers & Jennifer Griffo + many other talented artists.

OPENING PARTY
Saturday, February 12th, 2011
7pm-12am
Free! All-Ages!!

Gallery Homeland
2505 Southeast 11th Ave
Portland, OR 97202

More info HERE

A Few New Collages by Brad Hamers

2011-02-12T11:44:00.000-08:00

Big Art Opening for Jennifer Griffo TONIGHT!

2011-01-27T09:00:00.000-08:00

Jennifer has 26 pieces for sale!
To view them...CLICK HERE.

New Solo LP..Post No Dreams..by Brad Hamers..Finally OUT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2010-12-01T23:59:00.000-08:00

Over 3 & 1/2 years in the making, Brad Hamers second official solo effort is finally here!
Post No Dreams is Brad’s most conceptually cohesive and accomplished work yet.
Capturing what wasn’t taken to the zoo before it was freed, this album is a snapshot of the (in-fashion) chains we find ourselves in, a hole one can only dig themselves out of. Most songs were conceived out of an unshaven and woolly keyboard with its heavy heart caught in an amplifier, rotted and humming; and recorded onto a computer from the last ice age with buboes. Layered with shit drums and cassette fuzz, almost all of the album’s 13 tracks evolved out of old keyboard sketches and then grew new body parts and extra clothes from there. It is sooty and astral. It is lo-fi and fizzes. It is for the pensive and the head-sick. For the sleepless and the sleeping. For the myth-less and the mixed-up. The album features some accompanying instrumentation by Big Pauper (the other half of Two Ton Sloth), who also mixed and mastered the album in its entirety. And as with all of Brad’s work, this album is best listened to while alone and reading along with the lyrics.

CLICK HERE TO LISTEN AND/OR PURCHASE

New Big Pauper Video

2010-11-30T18:02:00.000-08:00

"First Trimester. Second Month." From the Vanishing Twin EP (Token
Recluse Recordings)
available FREE at http://bigpauper.bandcamp.com

More free music from Big Pauper at http://circleintosquare.com

Video by Moondog
http://www.youtube.com/manthone

Big Pauper drops NEW FREE EP!

2010-11-30T17:45:00.000-08:00

From Circle Into Square:
"Take a gaze through the looking glass and in to the strange and surreal world of acclaimed electronic producer Big Pauper (Portland, OR's Drew McIntyre). You will bare witness to a dust-ridden phantom planet consumed by tape hiss, driven by earth mother's waning rhythm and haunted by discarded memories of the collective consciousness. You'll see the stars align with la luna, you'll feel the walls of time closing in on you and you'll hear the haunting cosmic flicker of mind at large! "Cops Eat Flowers" is your FREE introduction to said planet. With this extended play release Pauper primarily builds his atmospheric hip hop instrumentals from discarded artifacts and an army of analog mutants. Your typical Pauper tune comes densely loaded with hundreds of B-movie snippets and self-help cassette narratives. The aural palette lying within the mighty Arp 2600 synthesizer finds itself littered through-out as well (most notably so on the Aphex Twin-ish "Now & Forever Hopeful"). Aside from the waxing and waning of relationships (an apparent album theme here) a big inspiration on this particular release is Zeb Love X's VHS-cut n' paste production for the classic KMD release, "Black Bastards," an album Pauper recommends over any other hip hop release.

Cops Eat Flowers is like relaxing with your favorite schlock giallo flick (maybe a Master P movie is more appropriate) after a long day of play... or walking through the woods at night with a head full of red lebanese. Whatever way you liken it, you are sure to enjoy your peer off the deep end and in to the abyss of dust waiting for you in "Cops Eat Flowers!" Don't forget, Pauper's full length, "Beyond My Means," is scheduled to drop in April from Circle In To Square.

So... g'won, drink the kool-aid. Pauper mixed it up reaaaal good for ya'll. Cheers".

CLICK HERE TO LISTEN & DOWNLOAD FOR FREE!

Jennifer Griffo is showing New Work at The Goodfoot's BIG 100 show..this Thursday

2010-11-30T17:31:00.000-08:00

3 nights only. Cash & Carry. Everything is $50. Hope to see you there.

New Art by Jennifer Griffo (from recent and upcoming shows)

2010-11-30T17:10:00.000-08:00

Jennifer will be showing 15 pieces in the upcoming BIG 100 show at The Goodfoot on Thursday evening (12/02/2010). Come buy some inexpensive art. Everything is $50...cash and carry. Tell a friend.

WATCH OUT! ...Brad's New Solo LP dropping REAL SOON!

2010-11-15T09:19:00.000-08:00

IT's CoMING...fOR ReAL this time...WATCH oUT!

2010-11-12T19:09:00.000-08:00

photos from recent art openings

2010-11-08T12:53:00.001-08:00

Brad Hamers & Jennifer Griffo in another ART SHOW this month

2010-11-08T12:35:00.000-08:00

works are available for purchase for the rest of November

Frietboerism 5 mixtape OUT NOW featuring Brad Hamers

2010-11-08T12:27:00.000-08:00

CLICK HERE for FREE DOWNLOAD

DOPE NEW VIDEO: Big Pauper - Prairie Fire (Ambient Edit)

2010-10-02T12:42:00.000-07:00

Video from the FREE "Cops Eat Flowers" EP by Big Pauper.
Available for download October 26th 2010 from Circle In To Square.

Special thanks go to Sam Green & Bill Siegel.
More Big Pauper HERE
More Weather Underground sentiment: CLICK HERE

Circuit bent Atari Video Music (C-240) BY BIG PAUPER

2010-10-02T12:31:00.000-07:00

By Big Pauper: "I've been modifying Atari Video Music units to do my evil bidding. If you are unfamiliar with them, they were Atari's failed venture in to stereo visualizers (circa late seventies).... they produce blocky nauseating visuals to whatever sound you run through them. My bent version features much nicer visuals, a glitch patchbay, patchable potentiometers and best of all... composite video! I will post better video of the actual unit shortly."

Hit up Big Pauper HERE if you are interested in a bent version or if you'd like Big Pauper to bend yours. He also does commission bent video pieces.

Music: "Limp Dick (Computer Edit)" by Big Pauper

Big Pauper's Beautiful Circuit Bent Video Works

2010-10-02T12:12:00.000-07:00

Fritz Box v. 2

Fritz Box v. 2

This is the first in a series of fritz boxes utilizing the same primitive video circuit. It is based on the same circuitry as the first one only it has been improved upon greatly. More solid glitch design, physical build and reliable results. The circuit was built in to some bizarre old motel pay-tv speaker box designed to look like a stack of books. Very kitschy. It utilizes a patchable telegraph for rhythmic MPC-like cuing of distortions. It also has a nice blue light faintly seen in the photo upon powering it on. Movie of this in action coming soon.

Fritzbox v. 1 (prototype)

Fritzbox v. 1 (prototype)

This is a prototype of what Big Pauper's come to call the fritz box. It is a patchable video glitch synth capable of a wide array of visual distortions. It is excellent at creating many different forms of "poor communication." A wide array of static, snow & fuzz. It also has a line in that can create visual distortions to the voltage fluctuation in music (something Big Pauper likes to make standard on all this stuff). This synth was built in to an old antique turntable box making it too delicate for sale.

SOME PIECES ARE FOR SALE..CLICK HERE TO MAKE INQUIRES WITH BIG PAUPER

Trouble-Online Presents Frietboer - Kaputix (Mini Beat Tapes - episode one)

2010-10-02T11:43:00.000-07:00

CLICK HERE TO LISTEN TO & DOWNLOAD THE NEW 5-TRACK EP BY FRIETBOER

some older video art fom Big Pauper

2010-10-02T11:34:00.001-07:00

anonymous poem (found in our inbox)

2010-10-02T10:49:00.000-07:00

'Up Your Ass'

today I'm depressed
I comb through old lovers in my mind
draft letters to them that I'll never send

Send them letters that I've never written
Try to hold my composure and look cool
not let on that I'm in love

My Doris. Would you like to know how I seek out for you and all the others
to fill me up.
But it's you I want to fill.

My Lesley do you know you represent the over sexualized synonym.
How I fantasize over my sink of you and that night you gave me the scare.
In your ass with you passed out in the fridge
How I cried out when you passed out in my arms.

And then I think of Africa and the big black snake.
I was told the man in the house will put a spell on you and sneak it up
your butt.

Brad Hamers & Jennifer Griffo in ART OPENING THIS THURS.(9/20)

2010-09-26T19:53:00.000-07:00

"I am, therefore I think #4" at the Goodfoot (2845 SE Stark, Portland, OR). It is part illustrative memoir, part social commentary show. There are over 75 artists with over 300 works, and a variety of mediums (etching, painting, drawing, photography, collage, etc). Opens Last Thursday of the month (THIS THURSDAY), Sept 30th from 5-11pm. Show stays up until Oct 26th. Come and check out some of the latest work by Brad Hamers and Jennifer Griffo.

BIG PAUPER CREATES VIRTUAL INSTRUMENT COLLECTION. PRODUCERS SAY HOORAY!!!

2010-09-26T19:23:00.000-07:00

Big Pauper has been working on creating a collection of virtual instruments based on the world-renowned circuit bent electronic instrument designs of Arius Blaze & Ben Houston of Folktek. After over one year in the making and utilizing over 30 grand worth of gear, the Token Recluse outfit is proud to offer you the Folktek Collection volume one. It features sixty five high quality sample based virtual instruments utilizing Native Instrument's awesome software-sampler, Kontakt. Folktek is responsible for cultivating a unique and cutting edge sound. The Folktek Collection Volume One gives the producers working in avant garde, ambient, dance, electronic, noise and soundtrack their cutting edge sounds for a fraction of the price (Folktek instruments go from anywhere in between 400 and 4000 dollars). Come & visit the web site they had built for the occasion... you can check out sound samples, download demo instruments & buy your copy from what is the beginning of the New Folktek Site. CLICK HERE

NEW FREE EP, "VANISHING TWIN," FROM BIG PAUPER

2010-09-25T12:05:00.000-07:00

One of only a few goodnight kisses left from the ol' Token Recluse label. Big Pauper coming at you with a free unannounced three-track EP of symphonic ambeince and noise. "First Month, Second Trimester" is like an epic new age cassette melting on a sun-bleached dashboard somewhere. It follows the alleged Cynthia through her short but eventful two months in the womb. "Valor In To Dreams" reminds me of how dope the circuit bent medium is. Unwieldy and unpredictable, this one is not for the faint of heart. The album closer "Runaway Bunny" is a serene moog piece with written symphonic accompaniment featuring the beloved Shannon Steele playing the violin parts and also featuring three very talented cellists. Don't forget that Big Pauper has both a FREE mini-lp (October) & full length LP (February) coming out from Circle Into Square.

CLICK HERE TO HEAR &/or DOWNLOAD FREE EP

an excerpt of "Grandfather Clock" (the history of bells) by Brad Hamers

2010-07-26T17:10:00.001-07:00

every five minutes he
needs to be reminded that she didn't leave him
the gun is so well hidden someone hopes it goes off
pills are like doors only someone else has the master key to
she can't tell him it's not a prison
they haven't spoken since she bent over to pick something up
it's been physical therapy (since)
every audience member with a wad full of silly putty
every piece of newsprint faded from the photocopier's light
each day the sun became closer to being a Canon
the moments became more like counterfeit currency
every five minutes he needs to be reminded she's in the hospital
the nurse-bell is so well hidden no one knows it's a special event (or commemoration)
he doesn't know the person in gloves administering his medication
she can't tell him (we) hope he dies soon
they haven't spoken in over fiftyfour meals
some bells were invented for war and just burning things down
each day was another layer of sun
one more copy of the copy
no one can tell him what had happened 2 weeks ago
some bells lasted two&ahalf centuries (the audience clapping out into infinity)
we were tourists in a museum
tongues like bells behind glass
ziggurats to-be bell-towers counting the rings in our ears
the clock can be heard over long distances
the origin was a tree we carried from house to house
the roadrunner-clock left in his condo was a 78rpm record
every time it hit twelve
something no one could carry for too long on their mind
every five steps produces five more to climb
down
some bells
were too large
were (built) clamped mouth down (stuck inside a fire alarm)
the gun might as well not even exist
pills were seven more pieces of mail to open
each day he seems to lose himself a little more
(she can't tell him who he was)
a photocopier becoming obsolete
(less need for actual pieces of paper)
they haven't spoken in over fourteen signatures on prescription notes
she couldn't write out a schedule for his pills anymore
the audience keeps showing the stamp on their hand
everyone showed up because no one could bare to watch what they would become
the cannon he was shot out of was lit
(with a flame that was struck) possibly decades ago
and the cloud of smoke it produced lasted many days
many of us forgot how to count the years
he was another man when it came to dying
midnight on a compact-disc going off in a bell tower in the center of our now
how many pills does it take to hit 90(something)
they haven't spoken since sometime in the early thousands like they had in the 50's
and may not speak
ever
again
he needs to be reminded how much he loves us
the war is so well hidden it doesn't even have death
or anywhere to hide itself
we sat upright (or slouched) in a mass grave
washing stones (like blabber)
to build another rock wall
another discovered emotion that knows its own borders
one day we will walk over it all
far from now
in arms and walkers
i die every time before i walk into a room
(every dream out on display behind museum glass (like the next round of pills)
it was like one could actually prepare for being woken up
the rooster was a recording of a bell going off in
bumblefuck idon'tknow at hell in the morning
maybe pergatory is alzheimer's
incurable life
"a process of purification or temporary punishment"

the house had too many stories
the sun could never speak over it
the moon jumped to get out of the way of us
his body wanted to last longer than his mind
it was a race
of pills
down his hoarse(dirt-road)throat
to which could hit the bottom (the last house) first
her mind was well equipped to outlast her body
it was a matter of utilitarian choice
"no instinct goes extinct without willing itself too" (somewhere in its cells)(somewhere in its cages)
the row of knees and o(a)rs says from a water cooler on the sideline
the only cheerleaders were angels
(and everyone knew they weren't real)
it was always easier to complain
faking dancing was much harder than actually doing it
do we wish he would have remembered where the gun was (when it was possible) (and mattered)
does years off your life take years to live out (years of living it out)
where does the cuckoo(roadrunner)clock run out
of road
and highway

CLICK HERE to read FULL POEM

New Song by Brad Hamers & Frietboer (of The Netherlands) for an upcoming mixtape

2010-07-07T16:42:00.000-07:00

(click here to listen to "Without Modern Shoes" & read along)

More of Brad's Art from the Opening

2010-07-05T10:44:00.000-07:00

SOLD!!

Brad Hamers Art from the opening on Fri.

2010-07-05T10:37:00.000-07:00

More of Jen's Art from the Opening

2010-07-05T10:04:00.001-07:00

SOLD!!

Jennifer Griffo's Art from the Opening on Fri.

2010-07-05T09:59:00.000-07:00

Art Opening Tomorrow in Portland

2010-07-01T14:52:00.001-07:00

Brad Hamers & Jennifer Griffo are both showing some New Art in an Opening on the evening of Friday, July 2, 2010 in SE Portland, OR...come check them out if you are in the area...(SE Stark and 15th)

an excerpt of "fevered dreams" by raymond russel dias

2010-06-30T14:40:00.000-07:00

The vastness of ultimate solitude
crushes you and suffocates you
You were stillborn in the womb of time

You who live in the madman's house
and have locked him in the basement
You are not Lord of the Manor
Shame!

Fear made the bed you sleep in at night
It colors the phantasms of perception
The theater of recollection
and the projection of resurrection
The crucifixion of thine own Son

Who knows what strange things lurk
in the hearts of Men
A beast of passion
that devours his own Genius
A clever architect
that built the labyrinth too well

The corridors of the mind
twist always inward
and burrow downward
towards the lair
of dark Fantasy

Dream a dream and stumble
searching for the ghost
of a ghost that is your true-false self
These slumbers are pilgrimages
to a blasphemous Holy Land
Hidden but not Lost

Socrates drank the hemlock
A man of conscience
was born to die
To scale Olympian heights
with haughty confidence
And take flight
on the wings of conviction

A wise man is a critic
and a critic stands alone
at the center of a void
Shifting sands underfoot

All facts are provisional
And all men are the facts they choose
To judge without warrant
and hold the whole world in your eye...

If every man is a kingdom
This man is a republic of tyrants
A contradiction of contradictions
The most foolish of the Wise

-------------------
click here to read full poem (written daily, May 9th - June 8th 2010 AD)

New Single from Brad Hamers upcoming solo LP..Available Now

2010-06-20T12:59:00.000-07:00

click HERE to listen, read along & download

the New new police

2010-06-10T16:57:00.000-07:00

new New Police collage by brad

2010-06-06T19:09:00.000-07:00

a transcendent threat - by raymond russell dias

2010-05-08T15:06:00.000-07:00

One in full quest of the spirit
Knows that the goal of life is death.
He's a good man. Good at what?
Generally people are only as good as circumstances
allow them to be.

I believe that all systems of government are corrupt.
And that ours is less corrupt than most.
That China will wait 500 tears before they make a move.
They are that patient.
And that the Muslims own half of Manhattan!

Watch out for Nancy Pelosi.
She's had so many facelifts she can't stop smiling!
Experience has taught me that it is never a good idea
to tell the truth to a cop.
Q. Are you a PC or a Mac?
A. I'm a man god dammit, not a machine!

Your money is racist.
I have a hooligan for a son.
There are a lot of unstable, irrational, people out there.
I'm always nice to my kid.
I don't want him to beat me when I'm old and feeble.

Sometimes I feel like I went straight from being too young
to being too old.
No in between. Aint that always the way?
Everyone gets to be young. Not everyone gets to be old.
Listen, some things you don't want to know.
The insolent and undisciplined.

It's just gaping holes these days.
Man, porn is getting too violent.
I believe in pro choice because I believe in women's liberation.
Kant - categorical imperative - human beings should always be treated as ends, never just means

Some days I don't eat. I'm like a boa constrictor...
By going out of your mind you come to your senses.
If you go looking for a fight, you'll probably find one.
My heart is heavy like a stone.
It's funny isn't it, how quickly love can turn to hate.

This is the great mystery at the center of things...
No man is beyond redemption.

A Lightning Strike.
The Philosopher King!

If the sublimation of libido is the foundation of civilization.
And sex is the clearest expression of libido
then sex is more of a threat to civilization than violence.
pedophile is such a ugly word.
Look at this guy! Look at his face! Like a fucking movie star!
RE: John Fowles, The Collector, They give this book to kids to read?

Listen Man. I need this shit for my mental health problems.
He's asking for a different kind of physician...
What kind of physician?
A Metaphysician.

Obama is the most radical president ever!
Yes, agreed, he is TOTALLY radical!
We are "atoms of consumption"!
I'm listening... I like to think I have an open mind.

There's a lot of ill will in this country.
Pragmatism expressed in the sentiment
Anything that happens, it must be for the best.
A sociopath is someone who is incapable of feeling empathy.

The Grandest of delusions of grandeur. I am the God of Gods.
The heart is deceitful above all things.
What could the next ten years teach that the last ten have not?
I didn't make this world.
The crime is the art.

No one really knows you like the people that knew when you were young.
What do you do? I play video games.
a transcendent threat.
I'm not a loser, I just haven't won yet.

The fiction is the truth. It is true life that lies.
I don't believe in God or the Devil. But I do believe in hell.
"white glove" service
Emerson: "These young men owe us a new world."

Emerson was the superior writer, Thoreau was the superior human being.
He who lives best thinks least about life.
You want to put me down because I want to be a ballerina!
You know, in my life I've embarrassed myself many times.
But, most of those times were when I was drunk.

I've never held a baby.
A medium cappuccino very dry.
Do you have a very dry cappuccino?
All my life, I've always been too old, too young,
too smart or too dumb.
Dune teaches us that the great weakness of the Imperial Saurdukar
was that they never experienced defeat.
An excess of virtue is vice.

The intellectual capacity to understand evolution
with any level of sophistication or even accuracy
is rare.
And we wonder why?
Our whole civilization is a Ponzi scheme.

Big Pauper stays killing it ..(around the world)

2010-05-07T18:44:00.000-07:00

1st Ad for Brad Hamers upcoming Solo LP

2010-04-24T19:51:00.000-07:00

new collages from Brad Hamers

2010-04-23T22:34:00.000-07:00

Two Ton Slut (Brad and Big Pauper) collabo

2010-04-23T17:28:00.000-07:00

more art by Jennifer Griffo

2010-04-22T18:20:00.001-07:00

HUSH47

2010-04-21T16:49:00.000-07:00

'wide blade' by Brad Hamers

2010-04-20T20:54:00.000-07:00

a shovel was needed to move forward
the only way out was down
the conversation was
whether the cake his gramma left in the oven was what killed her
or did she die while baking
nothing was left without fire written into it
nothing in our dialogue jumped high enough to break earth
we couldn't get any closer to dieing than we already were
all of us tried
some of us with pianos and moving straps
some of us with boxes of wood and nails
the rain was paint thinner on Pine st.
all the scuffs run
jumping off planks
into the gaps (and under cups)
we were flipping coins
trying to pick our candy (how much sugar to put in the machine)
the only way out was in
we stood tongue and groove
talking our way around the security light (in each of us)
that each of us shone
mine was strobe
having a fit on the lawn with a burglar mask half on
we were each openings
cut for different size tongues and eyes
for different amounts of breath
we would each die at different times
each only using up so much air
a shovel was needed to move forward
the only way up was down
the talk was mold on the town was growing in the ears
of every last corn popping safely in its pan
did she die because the cake caught fire
or did the cake burn all the evidence
because there might have been something worth keeping inside
we talked mostly like night-lights
never coming unplugged
talked around the sewer openings and manholes into ourselves (by believing our steam was poison)
by avoiding ourselves
i found me for a second shouting from a balcony of memory
fleshy parts of the time that stuck
we were all gum under ceo's desks
chewing every last piece of paper closer to the bottom line
trying to eat our end(s)
every flower in the room was in 4/4 timing
every chair sat facing the question
closed shut and embalmed
every flower had a credit card receipt (never signed)
we sat down with our eyes somewhere else
we each held death in ourselves
some on a tire swing
some in handcuffs and moving straps
some on several tied together bungee cords
the conversation never jumped from its branch
we were all the same brand bird in one tree without leaves
each a different amount of sky away from flying
each an open question caught up in its clouds
like fishing net
like stock on the next hot selling breath
like the next most attractive moment
we each held our tags out
like what amount of this conversation is wall is fortress around the topic
where do we get off not dieing with her
where does all the system (of doing this) that burns us melt
(the car runs like a candle) (the exit's coming)
we get off
shooting around gas money
shaking ourselves upsidedown for a way to get there
and suddenly it happens
our cake starts burning in our ears
the rings around our eyes tell our age
we were born head first facing up into this long dirt road toward everything
they called it nothing everywhere else all the same
it didn't matter how his grandmother or my grandmother died
it was what it meant to those still alive burying their death
a shovel wasn't around
we rendered it no longer needed to move forward
our slowly poured tap milk on ice melts
and backwash becomes sustenance
we all hold each others breath together
to get off
(only death can come)
going only towards what can make us come
i walked toward a box on a corner with free written on it
the american dream was something to sleep in
an empire queen bed with a mosquito mask
i jumped as high as i could into the shovel
and broke earth
wallet under my fingernails
today's color sugar under my tongue
i sit plenty with death stuffed full of living
the cake says try harder
the chip on my shoulder yells dip
i die face first looking up screaming without a word
(they slapped me to see if i was birthed)
the shovel was used to cut me out
we reached the right shape to finally put it in the oven
we all walked away thinking a thousand miles of dirt road out
every unspoken word now had handlebars (with streamers)
to ride straight down a mountain
the cliff we each question ourselves as
i didn't know if i was holding on or on firm ground (holding them)
(or some variation of myself)
mostly it jumped back and forth between both
any way is really the way out
any way is really the way out

Big Pauper Exclusive track

2010-04-15T18:51:00.000-07:00

(click on title of post to listen)

New Interview with Brad Hamers

2010-04-15T18:39:00.001-07:00

(click on title of post to read)

47ER's biggest fan (this guy reps for the new police)

2010-04-15T18:16:00.000-07:00

collages by Big Pauper

2010-02-16T14:44:00.001-08:00

short

2010-02-03T15:09:00.000-08:00

more photos by raymond murray

2010-02-01T12:18:00.000-08:00

Two Ton Sloth (Brad Hamers & PZ) - Siphoning Dreams - FREE LP

2010-01-29T16:14:00.000-08:00

Two Ton Sloth..(Big Pauper(aka PZ)and Brad Hamers)...have finally released their newest album...Siphoning Dreams...for FREE download
...the album consists of 13 tracks ...most of which were created in 2007 in preparation for/and during the Two Ton Sloth Europe tour...the project comes with a bunch of free art from each of them...and a text document with all the lyrics...
get it NOW for FREE at:
www.tokenrecluse.com

Big Pauper (PZ) - No Chance To Shine - new FREE album

2010-01-29T16:02:00.000-08:00

the new FREE album by Big Pauper(PZ)...No Chance To Shine...
is a collection of unreleased production ranging from 2002-2006
...it features a variety of unfinished sketches, remixes & collaborative works..web exclusives and mix tape only tracks....
get it now for FREE at:
www.tokenrecluse.com

2010-01-26T23:39:00.001-08:00

umewe (poem by brad hamers)

2010-01-26T22:35:00.000-08:00

she had a small house she kept inside
her lawn had a pear tree that was now cut in half
they did everything for the amount of time it took to taste the fruit (for the amount of rings they could fit under their eyes)
if it didn’t happen right away they would spit it out
they’d rather stand around in their pigment (color) than run
i’d rather drip in place right over a spinning wheel then puddle in my intention
flash flood in my water bowl
my goal’s the high water mark i made with my happy tears
i’m my own goalie my own take cover duck duck goose and down feathered catcher’s mitt my own signal for the speed at which i drip the speed at which the wheel runs me over over and over and over again we’re lazy we’re lazy we’re lazy
like i didn’t build my own tears
out of the wrong fluid
oil would have been better
considering all the synthetics
easier to supplement the day
add myself to what’s already completed
money makes money predisposition makes the obvious
you think it out i’ll shotgun the couch
take a hit without ever being touched
doubt on the dial don’t touch the flame they’re all scared to touch the (flame) the temperature at which they were fired(burned)
burned and skin running off in thousand different directions
like a lost tongue feeling its way around on the walls
whichever corner gets me fastest to my own tendency and weaknesses
whichever cut gets me fast enough into a groove
lay the knife down (lie to a handgun) put the needle on one
forget your third eye dug out like a sponsored sports game’s warm up bench reaching for the seventh inning stretch all the way out inning number 28 i can’t remember my birthday they said it was the year of myself of the new pig pigged out on itself
jersey number was a series of onesandzeroes - a way to remember misinformed
full of bullshit and RAM
full of flower and power steering fluid
maple syrup all over my head
butter shoved up under my skin color
you can tell by the school you were given chase your fears (pulled out feathers) or your dreams
you choose and chose to sit eating the tuffet you were scared would give you spiders and mice
four mouse attached to my 24inch flat character
i was all attachment in every email
all clenched teeth and equipped with a shield for biting down
they all spoke an hour a minute
i held out my 24hour mouth guard
ahundred megabytes deep into the mold
we made pretend to compare our green
tending to our green
it’s not what you do but what you are
he was always eating while he was doing it
always nothing but what he took
objects in the mirror may be closer than they appear

she always had skyscrapers in her house
a thousand headed south birds in her sky
her (nervous) break-down was a ghost commune no one lived in
a bomb that kept teasing to go off
but we squatted in
her outlet like an extension of our own walls
we all talked like sledge hammers and wrecking balls
all swung in each other’s sleep
every tooth hanging out every shoe with a foot
we got nowhere (but in our own mouths) but where we wanted to be and could see ourselves
you bought the to-heavy-to-move furniture and slip cover
lie down on it
be all the can good that you can be
make cereal of your corn
numbering your coin flipping for which dead eye to cover first
buy you into heaven
every breath (taken) -a mugged old lady
a security camera crying in the street
she holds back what she sees
she keeps it like an ocean holding back its tide
washed up in its own bleach
harpoon through her ink
forgot it was used for defense
tried sticking (with) it through the time like sentences made of metal weighing down their word (their words were all ankles)
but who was counting
who was cutting off fingers and chopping down stilts
she made couch of her greatest height
slip cover out of her insecurities
we all sat down
the backs of our minds (top)heavy
the floorplan never big enough
i need enough room for the whip on back too
enough space for the cream
jerking off in my pocket
under the table (burnt on taxes) dream
we chase after
each other like chained dogs chasing crumbs
the next dinner table on the food chain
under hypnosis on me
get your rocking chair off
go get em get it rocking yourself to sleep
skipping like a stone over a stream
for the record i was a river
or the ocean it was leading to
number2-pencil-lead heart
always breaking at its point
she strays from her own ideas like light from a bulb
never returns
we grow old like light on a wall
like night is gray hair on day
as the day pops
and shatters out of us
how many times must i hit the “here” button
how many times can i multiply the past
me divided by myself by myself in a room with too much light
they thought i’d say the opposite (with too little light)
no police on my blocked up sidetracked mind
no new thoughts over this too easy (circular) street
she pulls day out of her like it was scotch tape
each moment to the next
right angles at every smile
bowing to the amount of target we have
closed curtains as eyes
i said i wouldn’t talk about my eyes
she said they were old
and growing the parts of her she couldn’t move
i said just blink
she said breathing in would make her drown
i try to have sympathy
but the water is all i am
so we drown together (as one)
but separate
believing in different boats
or the same one but by different name(or pronunciation)
or out of context in time
like armadas for Indians
even though the name came after the realization
we pretended we didn’t know ours
so as to we could learn to breath
trying to forget we’re under water
flash flood in my hard drive (by usb) (used to be)
bleached flag crashed up on its flagged down memory
we once hit the moon only digging for comfort food
his talent was a(n individually wrapped) snack
something he indulged in after work and between naps
she sleeps in the vending machine she bought her lunch from
a (break) broken off piece of herself that’s easy to chew
i brought mine (brown bagged) but still never ate it
worked through the breaking bones and bell like time
we carved dinner from the wild satellite we saw ourselves as
hawks circling smaller circles selling our highlighters for crayons
cold hard cash written all over the walls
an eagle in the ant web every lost hair in the net
inter-changing value for debt
she sat on her dreams
(inspecting her eggs)
the mirror that made her question herself most
the belief that we all were who we thought we were
i said as long as we’re doing it
they stayed cross hearted and limp legged
nothing jumped at (or like) the oil we had
to keep drilling for
nothing pumped faster than the hearts we swore by
and she was killed (b-flat)
roadkill on the freeway
if her car was a metaphor it would be the skin she covered with make-up to meet the day
wore her clothes like tax like something extra she had to say
over top of herself
we hung ourselves by the belt that held our pants up
that kept us deep breathing
i belted out cake crumbs and backwash
a bunch of frozen together tv dinners all playing at once
now they’re re-runs
furniture covered in plastic
they’re own grandmothers smothered in nap pillows
trade in your tongue for a walker
your begging-sign for a slave wage
your tap-dance for black paint (like stars through space)
nursing home heart
she looks to the person next to her to be unplugged
and recorded
we all woke up sound asleep
only some of us kept dreaming
i played my next move by each facial expression she made
turning over and over in her sleep
employee to the american dream
bald easel and uninspired speak clean and whistling through our fingers like loose teeth and time
whistle while you’re not working whistling each waged moment
sand in your whistle
rush hour train in your gut
but you’re never getting off
keep tugging on the (never) stop cord
whatever let’s you off at now
how’s the lemonade and chasers
the mold and window pain
she stayed
sitting in the glass
waiting for herself to break
kept counting on others
to sing in her place
duck the high note
grab the overcast sky (and all the goose feather in it you can)
ski pass yourself all the way to the bottom
whichever line feeds you first
whichever motivation leaves you unhungry
whichever thought stops short
whichever motivation leaves you unhungry
whichever motivation leaves you unhungry

(i hope you’re hopeful chewing it down)
(i hope you’re happy eating yourself out)

(a hundred overdone dinners on me)

(and because of that
on you)

(like your old house and all which/what it represented
in the spirit of us)

p.s. you is me

(and)other possible titles:

“lower middle beauty”
“a gallon of milk on beauty stamps”
“low rent beauty”
“disgusting beautiful”
“groceries on beauty stamps”
“funhouse mirrors”
“collecting unemployment and beauty stamps”
“ghost towns”
“ghost projects”
“stuck up ugly”
“mouth wash”
“pretty nothing”
“kicking god while he’s down”
“racing a dead horse”
“parking tickets”
“shooting the mirror” “holding up a mirror”
“don’t feed the birds”
“love letter”

self portrait series by Big Pauper

2010-01-23T18:05:00.000-08:00

art by jennifer griffo

2009-12-23T12:32:00.000-08:00

collages by brad hamers

2009-12-16T23:19:00.000-08:00

"selfest" by brad hamers

2009-12-13T18:24:00.000-08:00

i graph my orbit with my leash
know the distance from myself to my skin
from my ignorance to my knows
i snort the finish line
all at once
eyes like ground meat blood
flying straight into the sun (into the pan over the pilot light)
construction crane in a cloud
gravity was debt
pockets as parachutes
music was my straight line
eyes under par
best way to put it
dot-matrix ripped off edge and dubbed cliff
i pirate my newest latest thought
with each and every up and download losing quality
each plank loses another diver
i question the mark
score card eyes and bread rising arms
preheat to work 15 mile an hour wake-up
the exhaust pipe says it all
emotions like carved out roads
gravel in throat kicks up into my eyes missed the sign hit a church hood caught on fire woke up under water full of fish hook holes skin like curb hands like blacktop i pressed the sky like enter key eyes hot pressed sinter like graphite like pencils creeping over checklists like mouse eating windows through cheese i paid three pounds of my own mold for these heels watch how they click
hit home like religious missile to the forehead
(was)healed by a deeper wound
i graph my connectedness with my ball and chain throat
limping around my tongue
i regurgitate another gun
another long drawn out squirming chorus in bullet form
another set-up sentence behind stockings and bars
another epicycle sleeping through the ellipse
the night was even more night for a few going for seconds
i slept even deeper
pressing on my oxygen key
like a janked space bar
full face diving
first into the pencil itself writing this
blurry score card eyes and pirated mind
patch of welcome rug for hair
i sit and wait to get combed
by the right four feet of minute and hour(for our cut to start bleeding) for the right stomping foot of flood water on my bathroom door
knocking eyes
calloused pupils
knuckle down in the cake like text like blood running through the book
witness-stand legs
shaky decked out heart hanging off the front of my housed in sub-rural mouth (porch-dog howling at the moon - with home keys in his throat) a way to put my hands on the keyboard
i play the piano with my tongue
my drool electrocutes me
i shoot off dots
dead computers and dud language
make prints of myself
through the light of everyone else
i graph my time with my pen blinking twelve
with my prerogative pulled out of orbit
writing straight lines with my second hand
from my lowest gear to my mouth
from my piano to the sidewalk
four stories down
i sit
in myself
a straight line into space
a straight line up into forever

we feel around with our mouths at the lock and keyhole on the way
at the dock with our ties i wrote you around the ropes with my tongue
hung face first into the wake the 56k traffic the see level
like time going by
i missed the boat about her emotions
the way they sunk without sound in the bay
without borders or limitations in the demarcated land
most of the time we sat inland in her emotions
building apartments and comfortable ways to sit
like the sun in the sky

i measured my orbit by the point
by how many times i’ve seen the same plain
we know the distance from our self to our skin
and we sit in it
digging cul-de-sac and cob web
out of the corner of our eye
we saw a stage down
we scene a play
we sleep in rewind

(in orbit around the previous day)

photos by raymond murray

2009-12-11T21:59:00.000-08:00