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Friday, March 31, 2006

San Francisco! Show Tonight!

Just a reminder for our SF friends...

We're playing a show tonight at the Independent with the Grates, Foriegn Born, and the We Are Scientists.

The show is sold out, but if you have tickets get there on time, as we take the stage at nine pm sharp!

Full details of our visit to the Bay Area will be posted to this space shortly!

We love you all! Exclamation point!

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Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Art Brut, How Great Thou Art!

Oh [Art Brut] when I, in awesome wonder,
Consider all the [songs] thy hands have made,
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed.

Then sings my soul, my savior [Art Brut] to thee:
“How great thou art!”
“How great thou art!”
Then sings my soul, my savior [Art Brut] to thee:
“How great thou art, how great thou art.”

When thru the woods and forest glades I wander
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees,
When I look down from lofty mountain grandeur
And hear the brook and feel the gentle breeze.

When [Art Brut] shall come with shout of acclamation
To take me home, what joy shall fill my heart!
Then I shall bow in humble adoration
And there proclaim, “[Art Brut], how great thou art!”

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Friday, March 17, 2006

Things We Like


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Wednesday, March 15, 2006


I am a good judge of character, even from afar. It is one of my strong suits. If I see a gentleman help an old lady across the street, I can tell you faster than anyone, now that guy there, he is a good man. Conversely, if the same gentleman snatches the purse of the old woman he has just helped across the street and runs, I will quickly revise my initial judgment and tell you that while some of the man's actions were good-natured, on the whole, he is, in fact, a bad man. If I am then told that the man had previously witnessed the old woman heist the purse from a group of Darfurian orphans, and was merely trying to avoid the elderly thief the embarrassment of being confronted about her crime in the middle of a busy intersection before the man scampered off to return the satchel to its rightful owners—I will return to my initial judgment faster that one can say lickety-split.

As in the hypothetical case detailed above, I am usually correct in my character judgments at first glance. Spot-On-Judge-of-Character Lee, they call me. (They are excellent judges of character as well.) In order to get a feel for just how uncanny my gift is, observe how well I first-judged the following celebrities:

George MichaelTotally awesome!
Sir Elton JohnTotally awesome!
PrinceTotally awesome!
Dick CheneyTotally awesome!
JordyTotally awesome!

So it makes sense that when I overheard one businessman this afternoon asking another like-suited individual what his hobby was—to quote him specifically, he asked, what is your hobby?—upon which, after a long, awkward pause, the businessman being queried answered, I dunno? I was perfectly confident in labeling the cohorts boring, or more specifically, two boring dudes who don't know what their hobbies are. But then I thought about it a little. Do I have a hobby? What is a hobby? I was at a loss. Had these men keyed onto something, some incredible level of Russian Math that sailed clear over my head? I ran home and set pen to paper, desperate to find a solution… What is a hobby?

A hobby, I soon determined, is a recreational activity one pursues for pleasure, without aim for fiscal, sexual, or material gain. This definition troubled me somewhat, for I had hoped with all my heart to count my equestrian competitions, squash tourneys, my painstakingly collected catalogue of Victorian First-Editions, and my emcee gig with The Blood Arm amongst my hobbies. Unfortunately, with riches these pursuits have saturated the very fiber of my being—fiscally, sexually, and materially—and I would be a liar if I said I did not take to these paths with knowledge that they would lead to as much.

Still then, I knew there must be a term to describe the limbo between the broke-and-happy hobbyist and the broken-and-miserable wage earner (who has no pleasurable pursuits) in which I dwell, and I’ll be damned if it’s not a grand place to be. (Of course, children who died before they had a chance to sin or accept Jesus aren’t allowed in this limbo, as it is wallpapered with sex and the meals are all carved from horned beasts.) Then it hit me… I am a Jobbyist. A jolly jobbyist who has one hobby: Judging people. And damnit, those two boring dudes who didn’t know what their hobbies were are Russian Math, after all.

Speaking of jobbyists, The Blood Arm finished recording Master of Ceremonies (not the real album title) last week, and will reconvene with Ariel next week to mix and master the record. Details from Dyan coming soon!

-Ben Lee

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Friday, March 10, 2006

Belated Birthday Wishes

It was Zachary's birthday yesterday, and he's very upset you forgot. Buy him a gift and make nice.

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Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Spirit Animals

Spirit animals of The Blood Arm posse. (Not their real spirit animals.)

David Kleiler - Lion

Ariel - Hawk

Zachary - Sleepy Tiger Cub

Zebastian - Wolf

Dyan - Puma

Nathaniel - House Cat

Ben Lee - Manateen

A tour date in San Francisco with We Are Scientists, Foreign Born, and The Grates has just been added as part of the NOISE POP festival, check the web site for details! Also, the band is just wrapping up its time in the studio, an update from Dyan is coming soon! Exclamation point!

-Ben Lee

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Sunday, March 05, 2006

Overheard during The Blood Arm's Studio Sessions...

•When I squeeze here, does it help you hit the high notes? How about here?

•Another shot? Don’t mind if I do!

•We’re gonna have to close down if you stage dive… You cannot stage dive, okay? Someone just broke his nose, okay?

•Come on—it’s only homosexual if you like it.

•No seriously, Bloc Party is the greatest band

•It really hurts my feelings when you leave without saying goodbye.

•No mom, people do not confuse me for a girl… No I will not get a haircut… I stopped… I said I stopped having to listen to you when I turned eighteen! I’m twenty-five! I have to hang up

•I respond better to
positive criticism.

•Another beer? Don’t mind if I do!

SERIOUSLY. Bloc Party is the greatest band EVER.

•It’ll die if we kick it out of the studio… Can we keep it? Please?

•Don’t like it? Write a letter to your Congressman.

•A turducken is nice, but the turduckencorphesail is truly Russian Math.

•Whiskey! Why not?

•Shouldn’t we be recording an album or something?

•Pants… Disappear!

-Ben Lee

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