RyanTomorrow's blog

mate silently and out of sight = less conflict

The person with autism or Asperger’s syndrome may say that your haircut is awful, and this may be true. He means no offense in such a personal remark. He is simply saying what he thinks, and don’t see the purpose of saying the opposite of what he thinks..

Jul 25, 2007 7:53:47 AM

You Shouldn't Leave a Lover Alone Too Long.

Last one, I promise. I don't know why (try not too read too far into it, unless you're supposed to).

You Shouldn't Leave A Lover Alone Too Long

David Dondero

Shouldn't leave a lover alone too long,

lover find another then the lover is gone.

Find yourself alone in the setting sun,

gonna take a couple years before the next dawn.

If your light is gone,

and my love is gone.

Lonesome leads to bitters and the bitters leads to pains

and the pains start bubbling from your heart to your brain.

Swear you'll never ever make her cry again-

tears start welling in her eye again.

she was your best friend,

but you did it again.

(and again).

And i know that you're tired of the drama,

know that you're tired of the strain,

know that you're tired of our love affair-

so honey, why don't we

just be friends?

well I'm the type of the guy with the wandering eye

had a couple drinks and i don't know why

every time i see another girl walk by

wandering eye starts to objectify, yeah

and i don't know why...

I'm a natural guy

Chains like little pendants are disguised as love.

We were smothered by the touching and the kissing and the hugs.

Guess you know now I'm not the marrying type,

don't want kids and i don't want a wife -

just a friend for life.

(not a typical life)

And i know that you're tired of the drama,

know that you're tired of the strain,

know that you're tired of our love affair-

so honey, why don't we

just be friends?

Well, you shouldn't leave a lover alone too long,

lover find another then the lover is gone.

Find yourself alone in the setting sun,

gonna take a couple years before the next dawn.

Jul 24, 2007 11:05:03 AM

White Trash Heroes

, originally uploaded by Ryan Tomorrow.

Frozen out of focus, the sunday crowd
Started dreaming of television turned up too loud.
And coded conversations, half baked and tired,
Left us sleepy on blacktops burning the motor mile.

And underneath the arcade, details collide
There's good shopping, but all those patrons have too much style.
And moving in slow motion the boulevard started seething
With hip half-ravers in techno bars.

It ends life along the neon sign (It is like a long, imperfect time)
all speeding past, collide and crashing, I'm in paradise (on the motor mile).

Sealed in concentration (Soaked in complication), the lantern lights
Started shrinking (seething) on dead men drinking white liquor wine.
And iced with complication (condensation), the methane gas
Started leaking on bastards burning half red and black.

We can ride along in perfect time
Or speeding past, collide and crashing, I'm in paradise.

And standing at the gates of NC State fair,
I saw you smoking with all those new friends you've got to spare.
And melting back in focus the sunday crowd
Started sleeping with (dreaming of) white trash heroes, TV's turned down.

In their eyes, along the neon sky (It ends like a long, imperfect time)
All speeding past, collide and crashing, I'm in paradise (on the motor mile).
We can ride along in perfect time
Or dreaming of the white trash heroes on the motor mile (I'm in paradise).

It ends life along the neon sky (It ends life along in perfect time)
All speeding past, collide and crashing on the motor mile.

We can't lie along in perfect time
All dreaming of the white trash heroes, I'm in paradise.

Jul 24, 2007 12:58:59 AM

Make a Deal with God.

And this came around today to compliment the rain.

Running Up That Hill

Kate Bush

It doesn't hurt me.

(Do you want to feel how it feels?)

Do you want to know, know that it doesn't hurt me?

Do you want to hear about the deal I'm making?

You.

It's you and me.

And if I only could,

I'd make a deal with God

And I'd get him to swap our places.

Be running up that road,

Be running up that hill,
Be running up that building.

Say if I only could oh...

You don't want to hurt me
(But see how deep the bullet lies?)
Unaware I'm tearing you asunder
Oh there is thunder in our hearts.
Is there so much hate for the ones we love?
Tell me we both matter don't we?
You.
It's you and me
It's you and me, you won't be unhappy.

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God
And I'd get him to swap our places.
Be running up that road,
Be running up that hill,
Be running up that building.

If I only could...

You.
It's you and me.
It's you and me, you won't be unhappy.

Come on baby, come on darling
Let me steal this moment from you now.
Come on angel, come on, come on darling
Let's exchange the experience, oh...

And if I only could,
I'd make a deal with God
And I'd get him to swap our places.
Be running up that road
Be running up that hill
With no problems...

And if I only could
Be running up that hill
With no problems.

Jul 23, 2007 11:20:05 AM

You Can Never Leave.

I saw it performed live twice this weekend. The first time I heard it it caught me off-guard, a glancing blow. The second time, I took it in the chest.

You Can Never Leave

Crooked Fingers

You Can Never Leave

Crooked Fingers

Blue eyes of fire
sweet desire
is bitter torture,
You are no fathers daughter,
No man has this much to offer,
Skin dark as sin,
Soft and when,
We took cover,
From the rain,
And the thunder,
Under stained glass we did slumber,
Till the sun came out to blind us,
Till we could not see anything,
So we knew at once we were meant to be,
And we heard the gods all rise and say,
The love we made is no lie.

And with 30 years of hopes and fears breathing down my neck,
Such a sad sad thing i set you free,
'Cuz I can't get you back.
You are fire, you are water.
When you dance, it is torture.
Maybe some night by the grey light of the dull moon we can meet,
Tangled, intwined, we have climbed, we have wrangled, shiny sequence sparked and spangled,
Our hearts are cuffed and mangled,
We speant the night,
By the side of the water,
Passed the breakers and the markers,
We swam out into the darkness,
Till we could not feel,
The bottom.
Till we could not feel anything.
And the shoreline slowly drifted out fo reach,
As the moon shone down and the ocean heaved,
And darkness gave to light.

And with 30 years of hopes and fears breathing down my neck,
Such a sad sad thing i set you free,
'Cuz I can't get you back.
You are fire, you are water.
When you dance, it is torture.
Maybe some day on the bottom of the ocean we can meet.
Though we know if we do, we can never leave,
'Cuz the moment that we turn away
The gods will say
The love we made
Was a lie.

Jul 23, 2007 10:03:15 AM

I'll be your Mirror.

Hey, so many of you ask what exactly I do all day. Well, here's what I do: http://www.mcleodmirror.com/ Created by The Barbarian Group. Case by Ben Durrell. If you want one, let me know.

Jul 11, 2007 9:13:16 AM

AUSTIN! TONIGHT! ALRIGHT!

Jun 14, 2007 11:49:41 AM

Save McSweeney's!

McSweeney's is in trouble. Basically they lost a sizable chunk of revenue from their distributor's bankruptcy. But they're not looking for handouts. Oh no. They're selling off AWESOME stuff in their store. Stuff you'd want anyway, like signed copies of McSweeney's 13 by Chris Ware, discounted subscriptions to Believert, McSweeney's Quarterly, and Wholpin, as well as rad one-of-a-kind auctions.

As someone who's been involved in small press publications ( BOX Magazine - relaunching Summer! ) I know how hard this biz has become. So if you were planning on picking up the Music issue of Believer or some back issues, now's the time.

REPOST!

xo Ryan

-----

As you may know, it's been tough going for many independent publishers, McSweeney's included, since our distributor filed for bankruptcy last December 29. We lost about $130,000 -- actual earnings that were simply erased. Due to the intricacies of the settlement, the real hurt didn't hit right away, but it's hitting now. Like most small publishers, our business is basically a break-even proposition in the best of times, so there's really no way to absorb a loss that big.

We are committed to getting through and past this difficult time, and we're hoping you, the readers who have from the start made McSweeney's possible, will help us.

Over the next week or so, we'll be holding an inventory sell-off and rare-item auction, which we hope will make a dent in the losses we sustained. A few years ago, the indispensible comics publisher Fantagraphics, in similarly dire straits, held a similar sale, and it helped them greatly. We're hoping to do the same.

So if you've had your eye on anything we've produced, now would be a great time to take the plunge. For the next week or so, subscriptions are $5 off, new books are 30 percent off, and all backlist is 50 percent off. Please check out the store and enjoy the astounding savings, while knowing every purchase will help dig us out of a big hole.

Many of our contributors have stepped up and given us original artwork and limited editions to auction off. We've got original artwork from Chris Ware, Marcel Dzama, David Byrne, and Tony Millionaire; a limited-edition music mix from Nick Hornby; rare early issues of the quarterly, direct from Sean Wilsey's closet; and more. We're even auctioning off Dave Eggers's painting of George Bush as a double-amputee, from the cover of Issue 14.

This is the bulk of our groundbreaking business-saving plan: to continue to sell the things we've made, albeit at a greatly accelerated pace for a brief period of time. We are not business masterminds, but we are optimistic that this will work. If you've liked what we've done up to now, this is the time to ensure we'll be able to keep on doing more.

Plenty of excellent presses are in similar straits these days; two top-notch peers of ours, Soft Skull and Counterpoint, were just acquired by Winton, Shoemaker & Co. in the last few weeks. It's an unsteady time for everybody, and we know we don't have any special claim to your book-buying budget. We owe all of you a lot for everything you've allowed us to do over the last nine years, for all the time and freedom we've been given.

Once this calamity is averted, we'll get back to our bread and butter -- the now-legendary Believer music issue is already creeping into mailboxes everywhere; Issue 24 of our quarterly is in the midst of a really pretty silkscreening process; and in July the fourth issue of Wholphin, our DVD magazine, will slip over the border from Canada, bringing with it some very good footage of Maggie Gyllenhaal and a Moroccan drummer who messes up a wedding in an entertaining way. And then a couple of months after that, we'll publish a debut novel from a writer named Millard Kaufman. This book is exactly the kind of thing McSweeney's was created to do: The novel came through the mail, without an agent's imprimatur, and it was written by a first-time novelist. This first-time novelist is ninety years old. It was pulled from the submissions pile and it knocked the socks off of everyone who read it. Millard may well be the best extant epic-comedic writer of his generation, and he stands at equal height with the best of several generations since.

Whatever you can do to help in the coming days, we thank you a thousand times. We'll keep updating everybody on how this is going over the next few weeks; for now, pick up a few things for yourself, your friends, for Barack Obama. More news soon -- thanks for reading.

Yours warmly,

The folks at McSweeney's

Jun 12, 2007 8:58:59 AM