Can I be a king? I think I would like that very much, but first I would have to lay down some ground rules. No organizing of friends and/or labor into "networking", this promotes communities which in turn can build group identities that aren't faithful to me, the king, and which I will have to root out and destroy (or co opt! a much cheaper option, I think). Another rule is that all will pay a stipend, as such as to be determined in due time (the stipend will most likely be that of livestock and vegetation, or first born daughters.)Adultery will not be tolerated! Make that idolatry. Actually, both, I mean neither, will be tolerated.I say!
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Well, well, well....................our own w.a.s.t.e place.
Hello and welcome to w.a.s.t.e central!
Come in, take your coat off, pour yourself a coffee and enjoy.
Mel @w.a.s.t.e x
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There were no pigs sailing through the skies, flaming balls of historical landmarks didn't come crashing down to the earth, the sun didn't melt and California didn't fall into the sea--in other words, the world did not end. It didn't even come close to an apocalyptic state, yet I somehow managed to meet the very person I have worshiped for 10 years. That's right, Thom Yorke himself shook my hand in the alleyway off Michigan Avenue after one of the two sold-out intimate Chicago gigs that have now changed my life. I have his autograph, which somehow didn't run due to my pails of happy tears. I can now officially die and not regret a single thing. My life is complete.It all started on a humid Monday evening. After a day spent meeting fellow Radiohead nerds---mingling and betting on possible setlists before enjoying a fantastic show from the tenth row at the Auditorium Theater, I came to the conclusion that this set of gigs would be the only chance to finally come face to face with my heroes. After all, Radiohead normally plays to 40,000. Now here they were, tangible and accessible to a modest 3,900 rabid crowd that pulled all-nighters, sold souls and bribed just to get a glimpse of the new material. I was a part of the lucky group that scored pit tickets for both days. I was a happy little clam.I grabbed food and made my way to that fateful alley in the wee hours, dried sweat and exhaustion clung to my skin. As it turned out, I wasn't the only one with this meet-and-greet fantasy. I walked towards the mob of 200 hovering around the unmarked vans and tinted cars, all grasping sharpies and memorabilia. Swarms of uniformed protection acted as a fence, clearing the way for the vehicles to speed past. "I just saw Colin!" Someone exclaimed."Oh that one was Jonny!" The man to my right proclaimed.Great, there goes my only shot, I thought. The police shouted that everyone in the band had exited the premises and suggested we go on our merry way. Now, if there is one thing I know, it's that you don't exactly believe what bodyguards tell you. Fortunately, many did and the crowd condensed immensely. Suckers.About an hour passed, and about 30 remained. The cops and security guards went home and all that was left was a long dark alley, a few stagehands and a van with an open door. Things were not looking good. Just as I was about to lose all hope, a bald British man greeted us with stern and sudden instructions."If any of you so much as touch your cameras, Thom is out of here."Did I hear this right? Did that man just use the name 'Thom' and 'here' in the same sentence? It was then that I realized what was about to occur. My heart began to pound and my mind wasn't made to comprehend such a scenario. We were led into the alley, single file, and were told to stand against the wall. It was then that everything I had worked for had finally come full circle. Thom Yorke opened the door, smiling and a bit amazed at our organization, and began to work his way down the line.It was at this point that I lost it. Tears started streaming down despite my many efforts to control them. This was really it. My idol, favorite singer, inspiration and the mastermind behind the most respected band in the world was only several handshakes away. He acted interested as people gushed at him, I vaguely recall two small Brazilian girls begging him to tour South America, it all became soft and fuzzy. When it came time for him to meet me, I extended my right hand, as if a handshake could do an entire decade of innovation any justice. All I could really muster was "You have changed the way I view the world". I'm not sure if that was commonplace, intriguing or incredibly lame---but it was the most heartfelt thing I have ever uttered.He pensively grinned and responded as he signed my poster, "Yeah? I have people that have done that for me too."I was escorted out of the gangway dazed and confused, and still choking back tears. Laugh if you will, but rest assured, any moment that shall follow will merely be an afterthought.
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