Tuesdays are the new Fridays.

Right from the jump, it’s from within the bowels of the mail bag I got a real good one from Matt, which I liked a whole lot;

I was on the Sentinel High School paper, The Konah, in about 1988 in Missoula. The other local high schools in town would send us their papers. I remember reading in the Hellgate High Lance an article about a former editor from about ten years before that was a super smart writer and a real pain in the balls for the administration while he was there. That was the first time I ever heard of Steve Albini.

I suppose it’s no small coincidence that we now learn he was the alumni of a place called Hellgate.

And while we’re continuing to dabble on the topic of one Mr. Albini, I heard an interesting term regarding people freaking right the fuck out about some off-color things he wrote in old issues of Forced Exposure. ‘Outrage Archeologists‘… People dredging up long forgotten media/interviews/artwork, etc. and taking to the internet claiming that he was a pedophile.

For all that is good and right, don’t scour back issues of Big brother or even worse, ANSWER ME! (though admittedly, the mind behind the latter has proven to be hugely problematic in recent years). You’ll find out all kinds of dirt on people you otherwise would have thought were squeaky clean, and without perspective, off you’ll skip to your various Reddit threads to drag their names as well.

Here’s an easy breakdown for people devoid of any sort of critical thinking skills.

Using myself for example- Because I do a painting depicting a grotesque act, it doesn’t mean I myself want to engage in said grotesque act. It can be a social commentary, or it can even be simple garden grown provocation. Do I sell shirts encouraging people to worship Satan? Yes I do. Do I believe in Satan? No I do not. And sometimes, maybe people provoke just to watch the squares sweat.

Or, we can reference this quote I recently came across from Nick Cave;

The writer who refuses to explore the darker regions of the heart will never be able to write convincingly about the wonder, the magic, and the joy love, for just as goodness cannot be trusted unless it has breathed the same air as evil.

Albini’s life was spent as a role of provocateur, and as he’s proven even beyond his existence in this mortal coil, as people continue to get their panties in a wad in response to his efforts, he was real fucking good at it.

Pivoting from these observations to a nice text I recently received from Shellac drummer Todd Trainer in response to a drawing I sent him, some of which I would like to share here;

Hey Stevil-

At the moment I’m reflecting on all of the incredible times Steve and I had together. Bandmates for 33 years, and friends for 42 years. His achievements outside of the band were absolutely astonishing. And as a band, we accomplished everything and more than we ever could have imagined.

At the moment I’m celebrating everything we had together, not what we won’t have in the future.

That’s enough to last me a lifetime.

Hope all’s well with you.

TT

For many years I’ve attempted to maintain that perspective. Almost as if mourning is a selfish response. I’m reflecting on MY loss instead of all of the incredible experiences, unwavering friendship, hilarious exchanges, sage wisdom, etc. and so on. I even expressed this sentiment to the mother, widow and young daughters of a dear friend of mine at his memorial a number of years ago. I collapsed in grief not long after I left the venue which reminded me that both mourning and celebration are two equally valuable sides of the same coin.

Having said all of that is on my mind currently, would you now care to take a dip into the Revolting podcast and hear my last two brain cells rub together?

We’ve got you, boo.

Enjoy the week(end).