How did that mountain range get there? I don't know, does it matter... It's there, what else do you need? I'm hungry. Me too. Oh man.. yeah. Let's make breakfast then start working on the new song. Alright, sweet. I'll cut up the potatoes. Colin, what time can you practice tomorrow? I get off work at 3, got other practice at 6... 3:15. And I can do three to ten on Saturday. And work on harmonies after 9 tonight, if you guys are down. Yeah, let's do it. We got open mic at Artichoke, it'd be sweet to have you on standup. Oh man, turn that up! That smells so fucking good. Oh in the morning, I stumble, my way towards the mirror. Fig, I love Silkworm... it's so fucking catchy dude. My simple life, my simple love, it's my hell now, it's my hell now. Sung it, like, all day at work yesterday. Alright you guys ready? Yup, let's do this. To the jam room! To the jam room. Dude, grab your plate and bring it down. Where's Sam Tenhoff?! Sam Tenhoff, report to the jam room. Everybody, report to the jam room, I repeat, everybody report to the jam room.
If you're somebody with a passion and ambition, sometimes you have to ask yourself; what will you do when everybody else on the planet dies of a disease that you alone are immune to? You have plenty of food and water, plenty of comfortable places to live. There are no zombies or marauders. But there is no one else, no one else but you. If you're a writer, will you still wake up every morning, drink a cup of coffee, and write? If you are a musician, will you still pick up your instrument, turn the metronome on, and run through some scales? Will you hike to the top of a mountain and play until the sun goes down? It's just you. All the world's a stage, but there is no audience, and you are the only actor. If you are the only actor left and there is no audience, you have time to wonder if it's OK to give up the act, and after that, you have time to wonder; "what will I do now?". What's the answer?
Yesterday at work, my Mayan kitchen manager Miguel told me that there are black magic practitioners in Ecuador that have the power to cause hairy beasts to grow inside of virginal women, among other things. The most powerful of these voodoo shamans killed his entire family and drank their blood to get the powers he has. He will never die, he can grant good or bad luck, he can see your future. And while he stalks the forests of Ecuador and makes millions doing long range missile magic attacks for anybody with the dinero, Portland is worried about a little bomb scare that was set up by the FBI. Why even worry about Al-qaeda when every member of the FBI could be controlled by a wizard playing with dolls in Ecuador?
We've got some rough recordings up, but they are hardly worthy of the legacy we all plan to leave behind. So enjoy them, but know that they will pass soon, as all things must. Come January, Monkey Puzzle will begin to decipher the lost Monkey scrolls, and we will sing the songs that turned these apes into men, and these men into more than men. And we'll record it all, so you can all sing along.