A tedious,

yet somehow annoying,

collection of overlong or overly repetitive audio/video projects,

all piled up over the past several months...

 Updated 3/26/2013: a playlist of 18 assorted videos

Played with a 4 string Richard Sanabia solid body. Hideously long and roughly edited.

3 string cbg. Way to long and meandering.

3 string cbg. Not very inspired sounding. I like the video though...

3 string cbg. Hm...

Experimental 3…

The following videos have been piling up for some time now. They are all rather long and meandering, from both an audio and visual standpoint, so instead of clogging up the video pages, I've made the odd decision to post them in a blog. The first and second is played with a Smokestack Guitars 4 string cbg, the third and fifth with a Swamp Witch guitar, and the fourth is with a D.B. Customs 3 string cbg.

allworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymakesclockadullboyallworkandnoplaymak…

http://www.cigarboxnation.com/profiles/blogs/the-hotel-delroy-short-story-goodland-county-series

(this link used to make sense, but some sneaky person changed some names, thus making me look like a raving lunatic...)

The ground rises up and smacks John "Uncle" Johnson clean in the face and he hurts and the dirt in his nose hurts and he keeps on hurting. 

Boots, big ones, impacting the earth, boots coming for him, hobnailed boots filled with the callused feet of very angry, no, enraged, men, and they keep on coming like a bad dream.

He gets up and staggers and rights himself and takes off running and running and running, and plunging head first into the raging river, and he swallows a big gulp of the foul water and gags but keeps on going, ploughing through the rapids like a human steamboat he is.

He keeps on going he does, because those men, they are serious men, and they aim to have justice at any cost for the wrong that has been done them, and the very sky is stained with the vehemence of their words as they curse him from the craggy cliffs that overlook the water.

He can feel it now and it is the feeling of sweet freedom and it is good and...

KKKKKKRRRRRRSSSSSSWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSHHHHHH!!!!!!

the water in front of him explodes, the crash/slap of a giant hunk of granite impacting the water, and all of a sudden all is dead still and even the ravens are playing possum.

Then another crash and splash and the cursing, oh the cursing, and the man called "Uncle" commences to windmill his arms like a demented cartoon character and actually rises up out of the churning waters and literally runs out to sea!

Back up on the cliffs the sinister mocking figures bellow out grotesque laughs and make increasingly…

This is what I think:

   BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH...

Anyway, that's what I think.

I went down to the crosswalk
fell down on my knees
I went down to the crosswalk
fell down on my knees
Asked the Great Pumpkin "Have mercy now
save poor Linus if you please"
Yeeooo, standin at the crosswalk
tried to get to the other side
ooo ooo eee
I tried to get to the other side
Didn't nobody stop for me Lucy
everybody pass me by
Standin at the crosswalk Lucy
risin sun goin down
Standin at the crosswalk Lucy
eee eee eee, risin sun goin down
I believe to my soul now,
Poor Linus is sinkin down
Oh good grief, oh good grief
tell my friend Charlie Brown
Oh good grief, oh good grief
tell my friend Charlie Brown
(th)'at I got the crosswalk blues this mornin Great Pumpkin
Lucy, I'm sinkin down
And I went to the crosswalk momma
I looked east and west
I went to the crosswalk Lucy
I looked east and west
Great Pumpkin, I didn't have no sweet security blanket
ooh-well Lucy, in my distress

As of today, I have:

20 cbg's,

14 stick dulcimers,

4 lap dulcimers,

2 acoustic dreadnought guitars,

3 bass guitars,

4 electric guitars,

6 resonator guitars,  

2 parlor guitars,

1 tenor guitar,

1 classical guitar.

1 trace cubano guitar,

3 banjos,

3 native american flutes,

and a clarinet.

This is not counting the assorted odds and ends I'm messing about with...

Also,

7 amps,

2 portable audio recorders,

2 usb mikes.

The question is this:

SHOULD I BE COMMITTED? 

                                             And now a word from OLD SCRATCH about the real Devil's Music:

             It's here! New and improved GUITAR QUADRAMULADROITECS, without which all of  your stringed

             lutelike instruments---from the cream of the crop beauties being hand-sculpted at the Tsing-Jian

             Fender Guitars Factory & Chow Mein Refinery, down to those useless cigar box "guitars" being 

             churned out by chronic malcontents and affiliated hooligans---yes, ALL of your instruments, are

             completely and utterly USELESS!!!

             You NEED it now! You must, absolutely MUST, have the NEW! AND! IMPROVED! GQRLD-TEC!

             If you don't, then you are not only a total and abject loser, you're probably also some sort of

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             order within the next fifteen minutes, we're calling the cops. I mean, really, it's not like the FBI doesn't

             already have people watching you, you stinking anti-American Jihadi. Order our product, and it will

             look good in your file... or else!

                                                      PO Box 666 Mammon, Mississippi 38769

                                                                            Once upon a time...

                      Many a tale has begins like that...  too many.  This one begins recently,  and really isn't

                       a "tale" as such, and really isn't much of anything.  In fact,  I don't have anything much

                    to say.  Darn,  okay,  I got nothing at all to say.  Why the blue heck am I even typing?  I'm

                          coming across as screwy as that Cap'n Crunch mascot.  Like I'm in a position

                  to criticize anyone?  Nope... or yes, as the case may be.  Rest easy,  my friends.  No one

                  at all is out to get you...  no one at all.  Everything is going to be all right.  Everything is

                                        under control here.  Move along now,  nothing to see here...            …