A SHITTY ZINE FOR A SHITTY MUSIC FESTIVAL
Jack Evan Johnson
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Founder Executive Director
Tsvetelina Stefanova
Angie Randazzo
Nate Bruce
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Director Sponsorship Manager
Dive Bar Owner Head Of Security
Dive Bar Owner Chairman Of The Beard
James Howard Adams
Design and Layout By : Sebastian Pozos
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Artistic Dictator
KNIFEPLAY. CO
TABLE OF CON T
ENTS
Words: Jack Evan John son [1, 38-39] Girls Rock Veg as [18-19] Robert Carter [22] Brian Gibson [2 2] Kris Krainock [28-30] T.G. Miller [34 ] Meredith Hasp el [36] Joseph Brailsfo rd Dr. Joshua Ellis [41] [42-43] Images: Erin Case [20-2 1] Samantha Wh eeler [22] Karin Miller [2 3, 29, 31, 34] ERIDAN (Eri K ing James H. Adam / Daniel Greer) [24-25, 32-33] s [26-27] Jorge Catoni [3 0] T.G. Miller [35] Tsvetelina Stefa no Karina Stanton va [37] [39] Ian Racoma [4 0] David Davis [4 1] Special thanks to Pabst Blue R ibbon, Pisos Dispensary, an d The Dive Ba r. Color me in!
Life is Shit is like a Dylan song “Life is Shit is like a Dylan song,” is something that I actually found myself texting to a couple other Life is Shit organizers recently. We were discussing this very zine in your hands - the first Life is Shit zine, made to accompany the fourth annual Life is Shit Festival! - and specifically, our call for art and writing submissions representing the theme of the festival. The conversation went kinda like this: “The theme?” “Yeah the theme!” “Cool… Wait, what’s the theme again?” “Uhhh…” We didn’t really know, or at least we couldn’t say, and we are the ones running the thing — I even came up with the name. I mean, I know what Life is Shit means to me. But short of a quote I have given to a newspaper or two, and conversations with friends, I have never gone out of my way to define what it’s all about. I guess I felt like the name said enough, but sometimes I wonder. Last year, prior to Life is Shit, one friend and well-known member of the Las Vegas music community told me that with Life is Shit, we tapped into a zeitgeist — basically meaning we did the right thing at the right time — and based on the support we first saw for the festival name alone, before we even announced any bands, I believe it. But in the same breath, my friend wanted me to pull the plug on Life is Shit, claiming it injects unnecessary negativity into the scene. I asked him if he had even been to Life is Shit. He said he had not, so it was hard to argue anything from that point on — that it was basically just a huge, rad local show. That it can’t be that bad or Pabst Blue Ribbon wouldn’t be sponsoring it year after year. That every year we raise money for a local music camp by raffling prizes donated by dozens of local businesses and individuals (and last year we even gave money to a charity that builds toilets in Africa). Negativity? C’mon, man.
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I get it, though. The name of the festival is Life is Shit Festival, and it’s no secret that it was founded in part as a big “Fuck you” to the mainstream Life is Beautiful festival, which had blown into downtown Las Vegas with deep pockets, displacing another local-run festival and rubbing a lot of people the wrong way for many reasons I won’t get into here. Sure, there was an axe to grind, but for me at least Life is Shit has always been more about supporting local music than trying to tear down any castles made of shoes. Understandably, not everyone sees it the same way. We’ve had everything from fellow musicians claim that we were doing Life is Shit because of some sort of “sour grapes,” to having guys with picket signs show up at Life is Shit trying to recruit likeminded people to go down and protest at the gates of Life is Beautiful. I don’t even know what they were protesting. I was probably too busy drinking and watching a band to care. But like a Dylan song, this ambiguity has revealed itself as one of the best things about Life is Shit. It is whatever you want it to be, and I think that aspect has attracted more people than it has turned away. You think the bands at Life is Beautiful are shit and you’re disgusted by downtown Las Vegas gentrification? Life is Shit is your festival. You wanna watch over a dozen badass bands for five bucks? Life is Shit is your festival. You wanna support a local charity? Life is Shit is your festival. You had a bad year and you want to laugh about it to keep yourself from crying? Life is Shit is your festival. Like a good poop joke? Life is Shit is your festival. You just wanna smoke a cigarette in the parking lot with a friend you haven’t seen in a year, while standing next to a 12-foot tall inflatable PBR can? Life is Shit is your festival. If you want it to be, that is. I guess more than trying to make a political statement, more than trying to get everyone’s favorite local bands and friends in one place at the same time, more than trying to get 12 hours of free beer from Nate and Angie at The Dive, and even more than having an excuse for DANGERBONER to play our annual show, I just wanted Life is Shit to be something inclusive and organically created by locals, for locals, at a time when Las Vegas needed it. Maybe I’m full of shit because I don’t even live in Nevada anymore, but like I hoped, Life is Shit has taken on a life of its own thanks to people like Tsvet and James of Same Sex Mary stepping up to help. As this zine shows more than ever before, Life is Shit has become a product of not just a few people and a cool bar with a ridiculous festival name, but a community. So, life may be shit, but as the fourth festival approaches, I think it’s safe to say that Life is Shit isn’t shit. Everyone may not agree with me, but then again, some people think Dylan is overrated too.
Jack Evan Johnson Nashville, September 2016
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ASKA Our shitty band name: AL eat a lot of beans and do shit, a lot. Our band is the shit because: We
ed to us: was when we were The shittiest thing that’s ever happen w in Florida, and we got in a driving to get some food after a sho that moment. trailer crash. Life was very shitty at . Check it out Our shittiest song is: Hashish Christo ible bachelor in Vegas but I’m Life is shit because: I’m the most elig always so far from home.
ANDELLE Our shitty band name: CH playing Life is Shit. My band is the shit because: I am
ed to our band: I guess nearly The shittiest thing that’s ever happen tion on black ice was pretty dying on tour when the car lost trac banks of snow, our trailer shitty. After ping-ponging off some or. Somehow the car started right jackknifed into the rear window/do ept for a scuffed up guitar)! We back up and no one was injured (exc window and jammed door. had to finish the tour with a busted ays forget the lyrics. Our shittiest song: “3 Words”. I alw : Dangerboner reunions!! A favorite Life is Shit Festival memory is Shit. Life is Shit because: I am playing Life
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ONER Our shitty band name: DANGERB t give a shit. My band is the shit because: Because we don’
band: We were on The shittiest thing that’s ever happened to our use the bar was our first tour, our last show was cancelled beca essentially ended tour The apparently closed and sold that same day. blamed each other with everyone bickering and yelling after we all time a plane crashed for how awful the tour was. Or there was that spaper) was late to in Boulder City and Jack (who worked at the new a show. The band broke up after that night. to play. It Our shittiest song: That one we always forget how iral” is Adm “The , Also e. probably doesn’t even have a nam iral” we Adm “The essentially a bad Shellac rip-off of their song somehow didn’t realize we were doing. (sound guy) John A favorite Life is Shit Festival memory: That time we only had one if mics demanded to know why we needed three mics. Joel threw the singer and made us promise not to damage the mics off the stage after the first song. e. Life is shit because: Eve just had to eat that appl
BOLD Our shitty band name: GO play Life is Shit. Our band is the shit because: We
ed to our band: Playing Life is
The shittiest thing that’s ever happen Shit.
k. (Happy Songs Suck) Our shittiest song: Happy Songs Suc or story: Throwing a shitty A favorite Life is Shit Festival memory ing some money for our local all day show with my friends and rais charities. We love this Shit. Life is Shit because: You want it to
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be.
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IM REEFER Our shitty band name: GR play brown metal sludge shit rock Our band is the shit because: We
ed to our band: It took us 4 The shittiest thing that’s ever happen rd years to finally release our first reco e we’ve been playing that song Our shittiest song: Devil’s Piss becaus and now we can’t even play it for so damn long since we’ve started right anymore. or story: Psycho Las Vegas was A favorite Life is Shit Festival memory now every show we go to or the mecca of our people/sound and play is definitely shitty as shit Life is Shit because: We are from Las
Vegas
Our shitty band name: HAUNTED POLTERGEIST HARAMBtEbad timing, two parts we suck. Our band is shit because: One par
ed to our band: We ended up The shittiest thing that’s ever happen ing. And a semi almost smashed sideways on the highway in Wyom k cool? into us. It was terrible but do we loo g would be Chicken and Waffles, Our shittiest song: Our shittiest son estic abuse, a woman’s right because we write songs about dom all anyone wants to hear is a to choose, and police violence. But fucking song about brunch. or story: Not seeing Alex and A favorite Life is Shit Festival memory His Meal Ticket. ause of Rayner. Life is Shit because: Definitely not bec
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Our shitty band name: Indigo Shitt.. Oh shit, I mean Indigo Kidd genuine standup guys.
Our band is the shit because: We’re three into the bathroom, Bonafide even. And everyday, we as a group walk t right.” And we’re look into the mirror, and say, “Yeah, that’s abou okay with that. We don’t give a shit. band: We were once The shittiest thing that’s ever happened to our make that shit up. accused of being pimps. No, for real. You can’t t
you ask? I don’ Our shittiest song: Auto Erotic Asphyxiation. Why know, just listen to that shit.
of us matter. The only Life is Shit because: We’re all alone and none the worst part is and sure thing in this life is we’re all going to die, k of carbon in the we will be forgotten. Because we are but a spec and neighboring ever-expanding universe that hosts our small sun Your biggest planets. Remember you first kiss? Your first love? go extinct. The will accomplishment? None of it matters. Humanity as if we were on go sun will consume our world. The universe will whether our ideas, never here. It almost solicits the hypothesis of ement of the consciousness, and mere essence are but the excr her question: Is anot universe. So let me answer your question with life shit? It very well could be.
DDEN LEVELS Our shitty band name: HI all LOVE Creed and model our Our band is the shit because: We sound after them.
ed to our band: Skiing
The shittiest thing that’s ever happen accidents.
it’s about being bored of your Our shittiest song: Sour Vin Diesel, normal routine. t
or story: That one time tha A favorite Life is Shit Festival memory one guy got wasted and puked. ed Zima, fuck that. Life is Shit because: They discontinu 8
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EVAN JOHNSON Our shitty band name: JACKsica lly trained and have My band is the shit because: We’re clas t too. Clearly. music industry connections. Good publicis
to our band: We were The shittiest thing that’s ever happened ic festival a couple years offered an opportunity to play a large mus use we didn’t have enough back, but then told that we couldn’t beca facebook likes. sister’s birthday once called Our shittiest song: I wrote a song for my k. I don’t know why we “Butt Dirt,” about shitting my pants at wor never play it. time Nathan Fairbanks A favorite Life is Shit Festival memory: The to only a few people and a closed the festival at about 4 a.m., playing e about the time he sucked bartender, telling a graphic story on stag about a mojito he made a dick, and heckling the bartender so bad had to intervene over the earlier in the night that (Dive owner) Nate phone to keep him from being thrown out. Life is Shit because: I live in Nashville now Fuck that.
and The Dive is in Vegas.
ETTIEST Our shitty band name: THEstPR and god the father writes all our band is the shit because: jesus chri of our songs.
the shittiest thing that´s ever happened over coke or pepsi.
to our band: couldn´t decide
the century” written by god, our shittiest song: is called “the artist of king, they´re only making approved by jesus, and professionally spea won´t even tell us we did. us play it to punish us for something they story: i won two thousand a favorite life is shit festival memory or everyone at the venue a dollars at the poker machine and bought a red room of sorts with round of drinks. i later woke up naked in rding me. turned out i got two video cameras operational and reco . turned out by some creepy crappos kids life is shit because: the ending of se7en. 11
ERS Our shitty band name: THE QUITT ness. For 12 years
Our band is the shit because: ... we mean busi people of Las Vegas. we’ve been delivering fire to the good & shitty n; hope you’ve got You got a stage? The Quitters are burning it dow insurance. band: Three days The shittiest thing that’s ever happened to our two tires on our van before the end of our first tour in 2009, we blew we got pulled over for within 2 hours of each other. Then, that night, AZ and fined $1500 ie, a busted license plate light by the cops of Bow ters became men for possessing less than a gram of weed. The Quit that day. because we hate how Our shittiest song: Our shittiest song is Hipster t because of being poppy and unlike our sound it is. But hey, it’s grea hing about music can so poppy too, and people who don’t know anyt sing along to it. : This year is The A favorite Life is Shit Festival memory or story make some shitty Quitters inaugural appearance, so get ready to memories with us this year!! !! Oh shit, son!!
Life is Shit because: ...of yo mama’s stank breff
SADGIRL Our shitty band name: love Crunchy warm tones Our band is the shit because: we
ed to our band: when Alan The shittiest thing that’s ever happen fight Friedman Lang Handler and Sterling Bosey tried to has shit in the title so it wins by Our shittiest song: “feel like shit” it default L
Life is Shit because: NOTHING IS REA 12
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SHIT MARY Our shitty band name: stSACatME egory-Busting Musical Act of Our band is the shit because: “Be 2016” - Desert Companion Magazine
ed to our band: Drummers. The shittiest thing that’s ever happen Man, Shit Song. Also, we do a Our shittiest song: Good Women, Bad dads at Wurstfest love it. pretty shitty cover of War Pigs. The or story: Timmy’s Organism A favorite Life is Shit Festival memory crash. We made it home before and The Rebel Set needed a place to of where Timmy and his band dawn with The Rebel Set with no idea t day we woke up. The Rebel of merry men had ended up. The nex m had somehow taken their Set was gone and Timmy’s Organis place. We haven’t seen Joe since. ked you into playing 52 pick-up. Life is Shit because some jerk kid tric nce has no place in this cold and It was then that you learned innoce unforgiving world.
THE SCOUNDRELS Our shitty band name: do whatever the fuck we want. Our band is the shit because we is Bianca’s period. The shittiest thing to happen to us All our songs are the shit. ;) oles. Life is shit because people are assh
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Our shitty band name: TITO MOJITO AND THE NEW CONQUERORS give a shit...to nobody. We just
Our band is the shit because: We don’t id of our shit. Not even a stockpile the shits. My garage has an aztec pyram there anymore. well crafted one either. My wife doesn’t go in band: one time I played a The shittiest thing that’s ever happened to our it became a battle of wills song in Bm but it was actually in C#m..so then I would relent. whether the other guys would transpose or if which is about trying to Our shittiest song: That has to be I Wanna Rot, so you can decompose die in a place where nobody can find your body ...into soil, then into oil. properly like some animal shit on the forest floor : My boy BG showed up with A favorite Life is Shit Festival memory or story d Life is Shit. Those guys are a bottle of tequila when Lenguas Largas playe a sedative and they are still usually violent, but the Costco tequila acted as n over a period of 4 hours, are unaware their set was played in slow motio only buy sanctioned liquor which is an important reason why you should from the bar. we are conceived to the Life is Shit because: We suffer from the moment thing in between is just moment our last molecules are incinerated. Every worthwhile. Hi mom! enhancing the delusions that make it all seem
me: TOTAL GHOST r ear holes. Our shitty band naWe make electronic sex to you Our band is the shit because:
ed to our band: We were almost The shittiest thing that’s ever happen too fast on the Autobahn but instead arrested by a lady police for driving she came onboard of our tour bus. ned in a song that was so good it was ban Our shittiest song: We once wrote Europe, so nobody can ever hear it. or story: The future memory of A favorite Life is Shit Festival memory ying in our hotel instead. Oops. forgetting about this festival and part it. faster than we can fill a hot tub with Life is Shit because: Caviar goes bad
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partner with Life Is GIRLS ROCK VEGAS is proud toseek s to empower girls Shit for another year! Girls Rock Vegas ance. Since and women though music creation and perform girls, held our founding in 2009, we have reached over 300 ool programs at eight summer camps, and conducted after-sch five schools.
to play Girls ages 9-17 come to our programs and learn t picking up electric guitar, bass, keyboards and drums, mos their own their instrument for the first time. Campers form inal songs bands, and over the course of a week, write orig of camp. which they play at a showcase concert at the end body image, Bands also participate in workshops on positive otion. prom women in the media, Riot Grrrl, and DIY band y Warpop, Local artists and bands like Coco Jenkins, Cand teach, play Katy Marosok, Misty Day, and Girls and Wolves role models lunchtime concerts, mentor and serve as positive ician. mus le for girls who may have never met a local fema s show that the Survey data taken at Girls Rock Vegas’s program body image, tive experience elevates self-esteem, develops posi ce. and increases academic and creative confiden have Donations like those we receive from Life Is Shit could who p allowed us to accept many girls to attend cam rs, you otherwise not afford to attend. For twenty dolla a pair of or can help ensure a girl has an instrument cable re she has drumsticks. For fifty dollars, you can help ensu essional a morning of instrument instruction from a prof ensure she musician. For one hundred dollars, you can help has an electric guitar. ion and a Girls Rock Vegas is a Nevada non-profit corporat e to Girls Rock federal 501(c)(3) public charity. Donations mad rnal Revenue Inte Vegas are deductible under section 170 of the Code. rmation. Visit us at www.girlsrockvegas.org for more info 19
“A Toast!” Why must it require confession to practice outside of convention? You see I would not so mind so-ciety if it did not so demand my so-briety. I mean to harass and I intend to offend when I implore you, my friend:
TRANSCEND! TRANSCEND! -Robert Carter
Softest Dirt. Not what you imagined it to be. Not as rhyming, or structured, or good, as you’d hoped. That would have been nice, you think, drinking your girly coffee on your daily morning walk, by yourself. By yourself. Your sense of community takes from your rite to blend in with others. You don’t need to, though. You know that, and that’s what’s the worst. The softest dirt to tow in doesn’t want the action. Leave it be. -Brian Gibson 22
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Uh Oh! What happened to Nate and Angie’s Tattoos? Better give them some new ones before today’s patrons start arriving!
$2.50 I’ve begun an affair with a customer from the dry-cleaner she’d come in with her husband’s shirts to press but she always flirted with me twitching the flesh colored mole on her upper lip everything she said in her Russian accent made it seem playful, sexy and her short shirts let her bellybutton free to look like a little brown almondHer husband had a dirty neck and wrists I’m greasy too, I tell her yes, yes but he doesn’t know how to pleasure a woman, she says I don’t know much better but there’s just something about you, she tells me, something powerful I never get tired of hearing that,
I say, I’ll come over tonight what time does your husband leave for work? Around midnight I’ll be there at 12:30That night I knock on her door and she answers in a nightie her pubic hairs coming through it’s been a while since I’ve been with a woman who had a little hair do you not like? no, no a guy like me can’t complainAfterwards we lay there in bed her rubbing my fingers What are these black marks on your hands? those wire hangers get this grease on them, it sticks to my fingers and no matter how hard I scrub it won’t come off I guess it’s the mark of the dry-cleaner, I remark jokingly let me try, she says as she puts my fingers in her mouth and sucks on them
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you’ve got such strong hands, she says after a while she went over to the table and opened a bottle of pills she popped a couple in her mouth want some? no thanks, I said, do you have a beer? only my husband’s and he’ll know some is missing I’ll go get us some beer I crawled out of bed and started to put my clothes on
get me some cigarettes while you’re out sure, what kind? camel ultrasWhen I returned she was almost asleep from the pills and the slurring of her words mixed with her accent made it almost impossible to understand her I shook her shoulder and showed her the beer did you remember my cigarettes? I threw them on the bed you should knock off the pills, I tell her they’re the only way I can get some sleep she puts a cigarette in her mouth clinching just the ends of her lips to the filter my husband detests smoking and he knows I only do it after sex, he’ll know someone was here tonight is your husband a big man? I asked are you afraid? she taunted me lighting it up I’m not afraid of anything goddamn it hell, I’ll carve my name into your arm she laughed and rubbed my belly 29
in your dry-cleaner how much is wool to clean? $2.50 what about silk? $2.50 how can you afford to be so cheap? we’re the best in town, baby you do not seem like a dry-cleaner, she tells me I think about telling her about the writing but I don’t have enough strength a lot of people don’t become what they want to be.
-Kris Krainock
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sepia-scope by tg miller 34
summer lumber ochre umber peanut timber clench then limber choco lotto avocado mocha creamer bronze’d steamer brown reclusive pecan juices fibrous amber palette pampers
Live Long And Raw Dog! By Meredith Haspel Life is shit. Adulthood is shittier. And Kevin Hart recently ruined my day. I was sitting in the perfectly chilled atmosphere of an Arclight Cinema theater, when I had a spell of anxiety. All because Kevin Hart made a joke in a movie trailer about how embarrassed he would be if the world saw him ‘raw-dogging a toilet seat.’ The term ‘raw-dogging a toilet seat’ piqued all of my insecurities about my inadequate state of adulthood. Simply put: I don’t feel like a real adult. Examples: · I don’t know how to hang art properly. I once ruined drywall by attempting to hammer screws into said drywall. · I still don’t understand what a tunic is. Is it a shirt? Is it a dress? Will it go with my favorite grey pants I bought in the men’s section of Forever 21? · I don’t use toilet seat covers. They seem wasteful to me, and the mechanics of the actual toilet seat cover always flustered me at a time when it helps to remain unflustered. But you know, once I heard that fateful joke, I had to examine some life choices. Am I gross for rejecting toilet seat covers? Wouldn’t I be embarrassed if someone found out I raw dog toilet seats on the REGS?! Oooof. After some thought, I decided I was going to give toilet seat covers a try. For at least a week. It couldn’t hurt, I declared confidently. It was a Monday. My first three attempts at toilet seat covers made me feel prettay, prettay dumb. I am smart about many things in this life, but apparently I am not smarter than a toilet seat cover. Nevertheless, I was starting to get the hang of it. On my fourth trip to the bathroom that day, I was rushing to meet a man I very much respect and admire. I found myself in a lavatory with no toilet seat covers, but wanted to honor the agreement I had made to myself. “What Would Kevin Hart Do?” I pondered. He would put toilet paper on the toilet seat. So that’s what I did. I left the restroom feeling proud. “See, Meredith, you CAN be the adult you want to be.” I greeted my companion, who seemed excited to see me. His excitement quickly dissipated as he gently said, “You have something sticking out of your pants.” I had a tail made of toilet paper sticking out of the backside of my jeans. Life is shit. Adulthood is shittier. And damn you Kevin Hart, for planting that evil seed of ‘raw-dogging a toilet seat’ in my mind and ruining my day! I gave up on toilet seat covers that evening. Long live raw-dogging! 36
I hate white people By Jack Evan Johnson
I hate white people With their lattes and their smoothies Their made for TV movies I hate white people with their text necks and e-checks Their brand ambassadors and ride share passengers I hate white people in what used to be the bad part of town I hate white people every time they come around I hate white people with their suspicious eyes looking out the cracks of their doors Violent crime is on the rise, or at least that’s what we heard Of all the white people I hate, Americans are the worst They’ve never left their front yards But God bless the U.S.A.! The greatest country on Earth! But I also hate white people on vacations On staycations On conservative network news stations I hate white people with their Donald Trumps Their anti-vaxers with mumps I hate white people with their white Jesus Their white chocolate Reese’s Their white picket fences Their white water rafting experiences Their white line fever Their Leave it to Beaver Their Norman Rockwell portrayals Their trembling white hands opening their white mail I hate white people with their their six-hundred-dollar smart phones Posting stupid white faces from free wifi zones I hate white people with their white wine tastings And white meat turkey bastings With their white active shooters And white football rooters White guilt White pride Crying over spilt milk with the whites of their eyes Makes me wanna jab a white hot stick into mine At least then I wouldn’t see anymore white Just black 38
In fact, I wish I were black If I were black I’d have an afro and a pick And if you didn’t like it you could suck my big black dick If I were black I’d never call the cops on my neighbor But I wouldn’t be afraid to call a hoe a hoe And a hater a hater If I were Mexican I’d eat a taco every day I’d shoot my pistol in the air on New Year’s And yell, “Olé!” If I were a Jew, I’d have more money than you… Okay, okay I’m getting carried away with these racial stereotypes We whites seem to be pretty good at that And that’s another reason why I hate them But seriously, blacks do have cool hair I’m just a white guy with split ends Mostly white friends Ah, this deep, white, whiteness It just never ends I’m a snowman in a blizzard Whiteout on a page A white man in the White House? I’d rather be a monkey in a cage But white people aren’t the only things I hate I also hate parking enforcement Paying the rent My old boss and her fat ass Hippies who don’t buy gas Spiders Business insiders Real estate developers Walgreen’s film developers Motorcycle gangs My ex getting banged Utah beer A friend in the rearview mirror A dying tree The letters L, M, N, O, and P But mostly I hate white people How about you? 39
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i don’t want to tuck in by Joseph Brailsford
i don´t want to tuck in but in this town everyone must look the same don´t judge the donna street crip gang when you´re made up like nazis at a hitler parade when you look up read the sign that says it´s friendly where you´re at a load of shit to fill a tourist trap and it´s where everybody got kidnapped they come round for their conventions and they come round to get fucked we´re one night stands we´re yes we cans we´re dump trucks and in this situation what´s the remedy a violent gathering you always get more than half christian rock makes me laugh does that make me bad well five eighths is in your bag
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MY PENIS IS A KILLING WORD: A MEMOIR OF THE CRIMEAN WAR They asked me to write about community for this zine, which is funny, because I suck at communities. I hate being a part of things. I hate joining things. I’m a shit-talker, a cynic, a lone wolf of the urban night. A misanthropic asshole, in other words. Nobody needs me and I need nobody. Right? A couple of years ago, I left Vegas. I’d left before, but this time I thought it was for good. I was going to put this desert fever dream behind me and go live in a more honest place, out in Middle America where they lock their doors and say their prayers at night and grow their own food and don’t wander up and down the sidewalk in Tapout shirts covered in vomit and Axe body spray. I was going to be free. Start a new life. Be a new man. And yet, here I sit in my new house in the Huntridge District, listening to cop cars siren by on Eastern, here on this night on the edge of autumn in the desert. Here I sit, in the belly of this Chinese dragon made of cigarette smoke and neon and the lure of easy money and sex and the smell of perfume and pussy and Mormon starched shirts and the shit under the streets and the dust blowing in off the Mojave. Why? Why did I come back? Why does everybody come back - and if you live here long enough, you know that’s one truth in the universe, that Vegas is a black hole with immutable gravity that almost no one really escapes in the long run? Because right now, if I got out of this bed and put on clothes and stepped outside into the lukewarm night, I could get anything I wanted: groceries, an exquisite meal at Pho Kim Long in Chinatown, a tailored suit, a shot of whiskey, a line of coke, a 1969 Cadillac convertible and a set of Mexican tires for it. I could get my cock sucked, I could get my palm read, I could find Jesus in a strip mall or attend a rite of hermetic magic in a suburban house on the Westside. I could find my own death, if that’s what I wanted. I nearly have, half a hundred times. That’s part of it. Vegas is the place where they give you what you ask for, whether you need it or not, whether it’s good for you or not. Everything is poison, nothing is poison, as the alchemist Paracelsus once wrote. The only difference is the dose. You can have anything you want here, even if it kills you. That’s a powerful drug in and of itself, a seduction in and of itself. Especially for people like me. That’s part of it, but it’s not all of it. The fact is that Vegas is a terrible place with some of the most amazing people on this planet. There are people here who labor day in, day out, year after year, to make this city in their own image. They open art galleries in the suck part of town. They bring kitchen gear to the Huntridge Tavern and make ahi poké and chicken skewers for the tattooed punks drinking PBR and listening to Flogging Molly. They put together food festivals and they sneak incredible acrobatics and the commedia dell’arte into shows for dimwitted tourists on the Strip. They plant community gardens in a place where nothing by rights ought to even grow. They put on local music festivals. There are the others, sure: the jerkoff urban rednecks and the endless stream of hustlers and grifters and shitlords. They talk about “community” like they know what that means, but if you live in Las Vegas long enough you learn to spot the scam from a mile away. You can hear its shitty dubstep bassline and smell the vinegar stink of douchebaggery long before
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you ever get close enough to look into its dead little eyes. You live here long enough and you develop an immunity to bullshit, the way you develop an immunity to smoke and noise and the distraction of bright lights, because if you didn’t you’d be dead long ago. And if you live here long enough, you find people you love. Some of them you love a lot: you meet them for drinks every night at the Double Down or Champagne’s or Atomic Liquor long after the rest of America has gone to sleep, or you invite them over to your midcentury mod-con cinderblock house to eat carnitas by the pool and watch everybody’s kids run around in Black Flag jammies - and how the fuck did they get so big, it was just last week that you and their mom were doing lines in the bathroom of the Art Bar and how many fucking years has the Art Bar been closed? Some of them you love just a little: you smile and say hi to them at shows or when you see them at Starbucks or the Coffee Bean or just wandering the 18B on First Friday, in between the one-love hippie craft booths with the shit paintings of Bob Marley and Captain Jack Sparrow and the fried Twinkie food trucks and the upscale galleries with art that everybody respects and nobody can afford, or maybe you see them at Smith’s at two in the morning grocery shopping after a swing shift shaking their ass for horny businessmen from Topeka or slinging Jell-O shots for hordes of horny coeds in town for their best bitch’s bachelorette party. You talk about how much it sucks that this bar or that burger joint closed, or the new one that just opened, or who got drunk at Frankie’s the other night and took who else home. (What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, but that’s a double-edged sword, homes. And you part with a smile, until the next time you’re standing shoulder to shoulder at a Black Camaro show at the Bunkhouse or a DJ night at the Hard Hat. And some of them you love forever; they’re the ones you buy the mid-century mod-con cinderblock house with and have the kids with. True love happens here; shocking, I know, but it does. I’ve seen it from A to Z, from the first night two of your friends meet for the first time at the local dive bar (“I can’t believe you two don’t know each other!”) to the day you show up to meet their first kid. Not much grows in the Mojave, but what does is often tough as fucking nails, and survives even in the harshest of climates. And eventually, if you hang out long enough, you realize that you’re part of something, even if you’re a crabby old bastard who’s spent half a lifetime telling half the town to go fuck itself. You realize you actually give a shit about these people and what happens to them, and the city itself. You’ve become part of... oh, goddammit... part of the community. I’ve thought a lot about community these past few years, how it fails and succeeds. I think a community fails when it puts up a velvet rope and only lets the right sort of people in. I think a community succeeds when it realizes that every kind of person can be part of the community if given half a chance; that everybody can be valuable. Even a cynical prick like me. That’s the community in Las Vegas that I love. That’s why this is home. It’s why I came back, and why I will probably die here. You fucking people. Life is shit. Wallow in it. Learn to love the smell. Bright light city gonna set my soul on fire.
Dr. Joshua Ellis
September 8, 2016
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