jacobjacobjacob

Dirty South Goth Weed Zombie. www.thisisjacobshelton.com

Dumpster Diary 1: The Dumpster

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The dumpster isn’t meant to be destroyed but I know it’s inevitable. I’ve been dreaming of destroying it for days, weeks even. Every time I sit down to paint a wall, create a molding for the front or glue another piece together I imagine pouring it into the ocean, setting it on fire, or tearing it to pieces.

I finally put the whole thing together this morning. It’s not a question of if it falls apart, but when. In transport? During a sudden thunderstorm? Maybe the whole thing will fall apart in the middle of a scene, wouldn’t that be brilliant? I’ve only now realized that I still need to build a door so we can get in and out of the dumpster without resorting to Olympian feats. Also I need more zip ties.

What I Think Of When I Listen To OK Computer

OK Computer makes me think of a guitar teacher I studied under in college, he was a nightmare. A pedantic, completely coked up jazz freak, who worshipped at the altar of Radiohead – specifically OK Computer. We had a one on one class two days out of the week at ten in the morning and more times than not our time together was spent with the teacher, let’s call him “Liam,” telling me how genius Johnny Greenwood was for creating his own musical scales, and berating me for not sharing, or caring about this particular form of genius. Then he would either play John Coltrane on the guitar (the best way to hear the bird), or he would tell me why playing a Steinberger was better for intonation and staying in tune. That may be true, but it’s also for nerds.

Liam’s devotion to wonky guitar nerd music, and seeming need to direct all of his vitriol about not being lauded as a guitar genius, was so traumatizing that whenever I hear anything from the first three Radiohead albums I immediately think of him and feel embarrassed. When the opening chords of “High and Dry,” a song I had to “noodle around on” for my final, waft through a super market I tense up, worrying that someone will hand me a guitar and asked me to play through the scales, inventing variations as I go.

The only victory I was able to hold over Liam was the morning when he lugged in two guitar cases into our cramped practice space. One held a stock, white, Stratocaster, the other a gold top Les Paul. He had just joined a 70s, 80s, and 90s cover band and had been told that he had to play an instrument that fit the band’s aesthetic. As we tried to play through whatever song he felt that I could handle he kept stopping to complain about the guitar; the action, the neck, the bridge, everything, while switching between the two of them. Then he explained that he would do what he to do to make money before bringing our lesson to an abrupt end. After that day he grew more passive aggressive about my playing until I stopped going to class, vowing to listen exclusively to post-guitar Radiohead for the next 12 years.

Garth Brooks Eats Like a Dog

Have you ever discovered something so strange that you have to tell someone about it but don’t actually know anyone would appreciate this knowledge? If so, then you know how I felt when I read this People Magazine article about Garth Brooks. The stand out piece of information here is that Garth Brooks eats like a dog. I don’t know if he does this all the time, or when he’s just trying to be VERY cool, but I love the way he describes what he does. 

I said, ‘Just take your fork in your right hand. Okay, we’re going to beat it against the table three times then I want you to throw your fork over your shoulder.’ I said, ‘It’s okay.’ Beat it, beat it, and they hurled those forks, I mean just threw ’em. ‘What do we do now?’ I said, ‘Now, you eat like a dog.’ ”

Now you eat like a dog. 

I made a thing for all you Halloween heads out there. 

Fog of Sound

In another life I made music that a specific group of people seemed to enjoy. Yesterday I was cutting up guitar parts on a plane, and today I’m sitting in a hotel waiting to watch people watch a short film I directed. Disassociation sounds overwrought but it feels accurate.

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Anything To Mean Something

Why am I making myself worry about the Blair Witch and Ring reboots? I don’t care about either of them. For the most part I still like The Ring, although all the gothic atmospherics won’t save your film if the monster’s reveal is a dud, and I’ll talk your ear off about my capital L Love for the Blair Witch and its what could have been sequel if you let me. But there’s no reason that I should be wringing my hands over multi-million dollar properties.

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What a spooky morning!

What a spooky morning!