Canned Butter

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Electric Peace Piece… a good bit of the yarn

I had a strange experience this evening and that was this:

The photograph that is attached to this story is one that I had pondered taking for quite awhile, as I often pass the ‘hopefull’ scene on my bicycle-return from the grocer within the normal course of my life.  Tonight, for whatever reason I finally grabbed up my tripod and set off to complete the endeavour.  Now what you’re looking at is a peace sign (hopefully obvious) that is covering the frontside of the porch on a middle-class family residence in Anytown, USA.  And it’s a fairly sizeable bit of light sculpture, so it goes glowing boldly, calling out into the January air.  I setup with my camera across the street from this ‘electric peace piece’ on the sidewalk in front of a church, of all things.  (I ‘spose it is a rather peaceful neighborhood, now isn’t it?)
As I was toying with the concept of long shutters, some sort of young adult gathering was just concluding at this church.   Suddenly I was surrounded by activity in the middle of a serene evening.  Cars with headlights leaving parking lots, people with conversations circling,  Activity.  Anyway, anyone who came around me, I simply said to them, “good evening!”  …
  This is the “strange” aspect of the tale.  My response, as a human-being (thanks Existentialism @ PSU) trying to connect with another on some sort of basic-“good evening to you”human-level was NIL.  Zilch.  Nada.  Now,
this is not a bit of rubbish bashing the whole organized religion thing.  This is a bit of rubbish highlighting the awareness that organized religion and all other bull-shit in the world can SUCK- FUCKING SUCK!!!- out of YOU.  How can you exist in a state of isolation so absorbed that you can not return a friendly salutation to a damn artist dood in the middle of a sidewalk with a tripod taking an extended photo of a GodDamnFucking PEACESIGN!!!!! …glowing boldly, calling out into the January air…  Are you, YOU, not the peers of my generation leaving a church, not them!, YOU.  Whoever you are reading this!  Are you aware of the reality that is happening all around you?  Are you aware?   How much further do I have to go in this time of life to extend the love that I crave so badly to give back to our world?  ’tis sad to consider the answer to that question.
Bless it and god damn it! fucking peace signs and shit –

…and that my friends is a good bit of the yarn. szczęśliwy dni! and thanks, for your time.

A Meeting of Minds – #100!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is officially the 100th post!!! 100 postings of CannedButter to make things better.
Happy 2011 everyone. Enjoy and never take yourself too seriously.

The Black Keys Sell Out the CrystalBallroom Again.

Portland loves this band!  Their shows sell out instantly every time without hesitation.
Anyhoo- Due to my SmashingPumpkins catastrophe earlier in the year (see 12 September) I caught The Black Keys last night here in Portland at the sold-out Crystal Ballroom, and I’d like to thank the idiot who booked the worst live act I’ve seen in a long while to open for them.  Sleigh Bells was what the duo was called, and I just want to say to them, “I love the way that you two press ‘play'”  I won’t even invest the time or attention to investigate, but you two idiots to have to be from L.A. because only there can your lameness and complete disregard for ability possibly be spawned and rewarded just because you have a cookie cutter ‘affliction’ image.  You guys suck and that’s why I held up a thumbs down high in the sky for most of your excruciating performance.

As for the rock duo The Black Keys, they were marvelous super!  Drummer Patrick Carney and guitarist Dan Auerbach are so tight in their grooves it makes you drool and dance in revelation.  Their sound seems to send you into a state of rhythm and motion outside the confines of real time of a clock.  Up and down they take you like rhythm and blues messiahs from a land where passion for making music is ingrained in their brains.  Carney hit his snare like he’s wiping out weakness and fatigue, steady and constant like a rock god.  What a badass drummer.  Auerbach’s tone on the strings was tasty and solid straight through the show as well.  Mighty rocknroll must never die!  Thank sweet Jesus and Satan that they made up for the super complete buzz-kill cursed upon all of us by the opening act.  If you need some new music check’em out furshur.

The Black Keys @

Halloween 2k10, oh my!!!

Halloween once again was insanity everywhere in this humble town of Portland.  I took so many photos that I’m bogged down with sorting so I’ll give all you eagers out there just a taste of what went down. Then I’ll post the slideshow when it becomes available.  Since Hallow’s Eve fell on a Sunday this year there was a whole weekend of absurdity.  Friday/Saturday/Sunday…I’m just now getting back to 100%.  Amongst all the imbibing I did happen upon some culture and that is what I mean to report on here and now.  Sunday the Oregon Symphony provided the city of Portland with greatness.  The event was centered around (appropriately enough) Alfred Hitchcock’s 1960 film ‘Psycho.’  As the backdrop of the huge Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall a huge screen was hung and as the movie (with dialogue only) screened the symphony filled in Bernard Hermann’s score for the feature.  Excellent!  I’ve never seen a section of strings attack staccatos like that before.  REEE!REEE!REEE!  What a great time watching a classic film with a wide-ranging age capacity crowd in a concert hall.  Tongue-in-cheek jokes are waaaay more fun when you hear other people laughing with you.  Laughter is contagious as they say.  Gotta love Hitchcock.  Gotta love Norman Bates.  Gotta love Portland.  Hello November.

Feed Your Head.

Wow, people… it’s been awhile. Life is what happens when you step away from cannedbutter. Anyhoo, ’tis late and I cannot find sleep anywhere so I figured I’d grace this diary with the makings of a recipe. A secret breakfast dish that guarantees a beautiful day even during the Northwest-rain-gloom-dog-period. It’s a seasonal update on a longtime fave of mine, and I call it ‘the Chantrelle-Crimson-Scrambler.’ Ooh-lala! my mouth is yearning from the mere typing of these wonderful words………………..

There’s main ingredients and there’s options. For the sake of my readers I’ll stick with the standards. chantrelle mushrooms/eggs/red pepper/onion (if I have it)/shredded cheese/salsa.
It’s fall people in case you haven’t notice. Leaves come down and mushrooms come up. It’s the circle of life. Remember Simba?? and Elton? Anyhoo- take advantage of this temporary culinary uprising. at the breakfast table. Here’s what you do for a hopeless romantic bachelor sized portion:
buy chantrelle mushrooms or pick them in a woods near you. Wash them, decap them, and halve them, about a cup full. —> 1/2 Tblspoon of butter (canned if you have it) in a hot frying pan and add the chantrelles. You want to dry these babies up! Make sure they’re pretty shriveled and then add a palm full of diced red pepper. While this frying pan sizzles crack 3 large eggs and beat them like a red headed step-child. Pour this into the frying pan and scramble. (Everyone has their own way of scrambling…I know) Now once your scramble is showing signs of dehydration add 2 tablespoons or more of your favorite salsa into the mix and stir it up. Then add some cheese on the top, let it melt a ‘lil and mix it in. Now pump the brakes on the heat and let all of that coagulate. The trick is to get the salsa-liquidity to a fork-able level. It should also be a nice H.G.Wells crimson hue. Serve and enjoy. Eat slowly!!! I find the flavour of the chantrelle to be delayed on the palette… atleast mine. If you devour the Chantrelle-Crimson-Scrambler too quickly…like many things in life… you’ll miss the beauty. Stop and taste the chantrelles…sort of like roses. And ALWAYS remember what the door-mouse said!


William Morris.

Eight Legs to Hold You… HELP!

All right, all right.  It’s time to learn about the single biggest threat in my world right now.  These wood spiders are currently everywhere.  They’re like the LadyGaga of arachnology. I have to use a broom to hack and blaze a trail through the webs just to take the garbage out… Indiana Jones style.  This is a quick film about these lil’bastards, and the most interesting thing you will come across today guaranteed!!!!

pure, unadulterated COLOUR

I’ve been doing a lot of reading lately.  I recently finished 500pages of Dickens’ Great Expectations.  Which was fabulous.  I took it as fabulous simply as a study in which the sociological interactions of people in the Mid-Nineteenth century differ so drastically from the ways modern humans interact.  Plus ‘Charlie D.’ can tell a hell of a tale with luscious words and jagged (or Jaggers ha-ha) twists up until the very end.  I think I’ll read it again soon actually.
For now I’m on to bigger and ‘brighter’ things.  Colour has been the main topic I’ve concerned my imagination and wonder with for the past two weeks.  German ‘renaissance man’ Johann Wolfgang Goethe (pronounced Ger-ta) published a 1400 page treatise on the topic of colour in 1810.  In 2010 I’ve become enthralled with this piece of work.
  The bound book is known as Goethe’s Colour Theory to the English language, and it’s a slightly rare book to come across which makes the whole situation even more curious.  I’ve started to make my way through Goethe’s words of analysis and thought of colour using a ‘reference use only’ copy at my library here in Portland.  Very interesting stuff, these colours around us that we take for granted.  What secrets could they hold within their vibrations?
I’ve been lead down this rabbit hole after pulling a book out of a dumpster.  The small work was titled Healing and Regeneration Through Color by Corinne Heline.  Strange stuff let me tell you.  The book is out of 1943, and inside it lays reference to chromotherapy studies going on during that time in which color was actually showing grand results within the realm of healing.  Psych wards and Veteran hospitals were discovering that color combinations within patient rooms were actually progressing recovery at a noticeable rate.  Very interesting.  Even more interesting is the fact that none of these ideas are still used today.  Have you been to a hospital recently?  Drab and dreary, almost as if the very atmosphere lends itself to prolong recovery.  Guess who benefits from that equation?  So my conclusion is somewhere along the annuls of time the medical/healthcare gargantuan deemed ‘chromotherapy’ unprofitable and did away with any trace of the practice on a mainstream level.  What a drag… life could have been so much better for so many people.

Smashing Expectations and Pumpkins.

Life’s a bummer when you’re a hummer.  Whatever that means Billy Corgan??
Here’s a story for you all out there in story-reading-land that I’ll type out just to get rid of, if ya dig?

My brother arrived Wednesday to visit me in Portland.  It was great to say see that guy.  What a guy.
Not a minute was wasted between us for what amounted to 3 days straight.
Friday was a good day.
5pm: in my kitchen.
me: preparing a spaghetti dinner
us: bantering on, probably in some esoteric nature and listening to the radio
Suddenly a contest announcement comes over the radio.
Text ‘smash’ to 44624 and be the 94th texter and win 2 tickets to the sold-out SmashingPumpkins show tomorrow night!!!!
I reached for my phone and typed the word and then waited.  What do you really wait for in that circumstance.  You know you can’t just push ‘send’ right away.  Ya know?  94th is a lot of texters.  So I waited for something and then pushed ‘send’.
I won the tickets.
My name and a +1 on the guest list tomorrow (Saturday) night.
My brother was scheduled to fly out at 3pm Saturday.  What else could we do other than attempt to extend his northwest vacation?  In the end is would have cost minimum 3hundo to do the deal.  Eeeek, sorry broseph, look’s like your not coming to the concert.
I take my roommate.  We were stoked to see this show! Stoked!
I go up to the box office window and relay my situation to the kid behind the glass.  My name is not on the guest list and there’s no tickets waiting for me!  uhhhhhh… What?!?!  I disarmed him with a smile and tried to approach the situation with composure.  The unhelpful peon behind the glass tells me those contest-tickets were all mailed out.  Obviously in my case that was impossible because I had only won the tickets at 5pm the previous day.  Whoever this dude was in this box office was worthless.  What a cold, worthless human.  What a chump.  He wouldn’t even let me talk to a higher up to try and correct the situation.  What a loser.  He was born to lose.  I haven’t been that angry at another human for quite awhile.
Anyway my roommate and I used every phone number we could gather to try and get in touch with a human who could remedy out woes.  I even texted the original contest number.  In the end we had to submit to defeat.  What a hell of a buzz-kill.  Come Monday morning I’ll be seeking retribution from the radio station.  As I tend to be more of an optimist than a pessimist these days I’ll say this: atleast my brother didn’t pay to extend his trip.  That would have been just plain infinite sadness.

The seedy world of Need and Greed…