I remember being in preschool and being fascinated by rust and decay. There were a bunch of tricycles available for our use during the play periods. I remember a couple of kids with crewcuts always getting the "speedy" bikes, as they called them. It didn't matter to me, I always wanted the rusty, beat up old tricycle - the one that tended to lose wheels when ridden. There was a certain aesthetic to that worn out old trike that clicked with me. Maybe I was subconsciously drawn towards the underdog - the abandoned and unused. Things other kids wouldn't have anything to do with. As I grew older, this fascination would manifest itself in different ways - my choice of pets, the music I listened to, books I read... If too many people like something, then there has to be something wrong with it. Personal taste should not be decreed by some outside force - some marketing ploy. Do people really like the star with the flashiest ad campaign? The one with the sexiest outfit? ...or do they just think they do? Do the insipid songs on commercial radio overcome people's defenses through sheer repetition? Does the initial urge to regurgitate disappear after somebody in a DJ chair tells you that the song you just heard is an "instant classic"? These are the things I ask myself at four in the morning.

cds I listened to while driving around in my beat up old car: Hollenthon "Domus Mundi", and "With Vilest of Worms to Dwell", Utah Phillips & Ani Difranco "The Past Didn't go Anywhere", Tara Jane O'neil "TKO a record by tara jane oneil", irr.app.(ext.) "not hidden, but concealed" and "radiant black future...", and Varttina "Seleniko"

now: Popol Vuh "Coeur de Verre"