all the way live #13

well...here it is, you filthy pigfucker...

i guess around three years ago, we made that trip to see radiohead, traveled to cleveland or some other God-forbidden place in ohio to see this band, these people, this generation's answer to pink floyd.

i don't think that's such a bold statement. my feelings about them have been ambivalent of late. maybe they should only release ep's. i never did buy hail to the thief, and while kid a may be the best freakout record ever, i don't know if i'd really listen to anything new from them again with any kind of frequency. not like i did with kid a.

that shit's a stone- cold note-perfect masterpiece.

but i'm digressing. let me get to the nut of it all. what you really wanna hear about is the Doktor's pirate adventures. and by pirate, i mean gay. well, i don't know fuck-all about that, but i do remember smokin' up that bag of elephant tranquilizer on the way up. by the time we got to the parking lot, the Doktor was gnawing on the dashboard. i'm sure that Afghani babe he picked up was really sweet, and we should all applaud him for what he's done for Muslim-Christian relations, but he missed a show for the ages.

the band took the stage in front of some burned-out old steel mill. maybe it was a textile factory, or a power plant, but i'm surely splitting semantical hairs here. it looked exactly like the front cover of animals. when that fuckin' swine went floating by in the air, i hopped into a hearse that was parked near the back of the crowd. the Fatman burned his hand on the keys that were left in the passenger side lock.

"it's no matter," i said, "i'll hotwire it."

we got a ways away before the cops came down on us in a sallow yellow volkswagen, lit from the inside out and glowing like some kind of plastic basketball. i ran that fucker right up against a brick wall and jumped out with the engine still revvin', runnin' full bore into the nearest building.

it was a vietnamese florist, and there was a partially excavated dinosaur skeleton in the floor, covered by plexiglass. "don't step on it," i said, "something like that can't be good luck." she lead us around the shop on a gravel path to where we were surrounded by the sun shining through the floor-to-ceiling windows. in the back, in the pine-panelled room, they were selling sea creatures in plastic bags - baby leatherbacks, octopi, starfish. a man behind the counter nodded and breathed through his mouth, "hurry up and buy!!!"

get the fuck out, i remember thinking, and jumped through the glass, back out on to the playground. there were feet of snow, and we were throwing slushballs at dogs as big as buses, running in circles far down over the hill.

gutted crocodiles were scattered all around the ash before the grass, baby ones, fat legs, just the shell left like some tortured lawn ornament or a kid's piggy bank.

"get out," she screamed, "it's a test!!!"

well, shit. you don't gotta tell me twice.

i remember riding home, and the Doktor rising from his slumber, saying something about wanting to drive. "what did i miss?" he said.

i didn't say anything. where would i begin?

listen: radiohead - everything in its right place [live 8-21-2003]


buy: radiohead records