Thousands of nights have elapsed since I was a little boy, but I still have traces of that era, the intensity of my brain experiencing the sensations of the world for the first time, and meanwhile learning to communicate with itself, my body and spirit in the process. Much of what unfolds in our early years is foundational to our entire understanding — such as it is — of the world and the self, yet we discard or explain away the ineffable strangeness surrounding those times when we reach the “rational” plateau of adulthood. These explanations are often rooted in a sterilization procedure designed to demystify and desacralize our existence to push us to behave in a fashion that allows for little more than the basic rules of compromise required to maintain an agreement of consensus reality. A quick look around at the mediascape of the current world at large will give you an idea of how successful that project has turned out to be, which is to say, not particularly. We have sacrificed our golden time in the purity of sheer confusion and wonder for the pursuit of a sane reality that is tumored with violence, lies and corruption, all of which serve to strengthen the stranglehold of power for a tiny minority of some of the worst people our species has managed to produce. The situation is not excellent or ideal. We have murdered our imagination and fed it to the insane cannibal demons of Order in the hopes of being allowed more time to wallow in the horror of the vast killing fields of contemporary society, perhaps being given small treats and indulgences in recognition of our collusion with these powers of total extermination. We have traded away our dreams in the pursuit of striking a bargain with the soul-destroying masters of endless gluttony, rather than using those dreams to find a way to destroy them and live in a dignified beauty for which our language has no words. Do you feel good about this? Do you feel represented and happy with the order of the world? I sure fucking don’t, and as limited as my imagination might be by endless friction from the strictures of our abominable culture, I can still imagine that I’m hardly the only one feeling that way.
We still have for now, each other, and we still share, free of commercial intrusion, our dreams, which can shade our sleeping minds at night from the fumes of the rotten breath of the Leviathan. We also have the first record of the late American composer Harold Budd, from whose title named this column and inspired some of this intro. Take a listen if you are so inclined, and remember that it is never too late to dream. Even animals in the slaughterhouse pens find a temporary escape under the cover of the pavilion of dreams. We are never closer in our collective struggles than we are when we find ourselves there. And music remains one of our surest tools to find its entrance.
Thursday
Savage Henry Comedy Club rolls on with another heavy show tonight at 7 p.m. On the bill this evening is Fatale and Las Ratas from the East Bay, both with a crustier edge to their distorted sound, supported by the excellent local frenetic monsters Brain Dead Rejects as well as Radical Apes. Admission is $5-$15 sliding scale, and priceless at any amount to help keep the doors open at this treasured local venue. Friday
DJ dance duo HISPanic! At the Disco have been on fire for a while, a comet of pure Latin-sculpted dance pleasure burning across the stages of many local venues and special events, so it is my pleasure to announce another sighting in our night sky. Tonight’s spot is the Logger Bar, where, starting at 9 p.m., the fellas will be laying down the good grooves for masses with no cover at the door. Come count yourself among that lucky number if you are so inclined.
Saturday
There’s a very special event happening at the Arcata Playhouse tonight at 7 p.m. that has been a long time in the making. Some of the most skilled jazz musicians in our community are gathering for an evening of improvisation and live compositional recitation after many months of practice and development. Trumpet player Nicholas Talvola, tenor sax player Russ Thallheimer, bassist Ian Taylor, drummer Shane Fox and keysmith Alex Espe have designed a very special program called Strange Meeting, which is designed to stretch out beyond the waves of normal instrumentation and find textural majesty at the edge of expressions horizon. I highly recommend rolling through with $15 in hand for this can’t-miss experience.
Sunday
It’s the final day of the three-day, cross-venue Ouroborotopia festival, with two matinee performances at Synapsis at 1 p.m. and 4 p.m. Today’s close-out is a trio of delights, featuring a butoh performance by Rachel Noel called “Liminal,” a devised theater piece titled Barftopia —great name — by Lily Lina and a psychedelic punk rock opera named The Madness, performed by Hera Has a Heart. This close-out performance is, like its predecessors, produced by Mystical A/V Club and provided to the public for free thanks to support from Measure J and the Ink People. Come have a gander.
Monday
A quiet night, perfect for dreaming.
Tuesday
Another Metal Night at Savage Henry Comedy Club. As of me writing this up, this one’s only advertised with the headliner, which is a blackened crust metal band from Washington State called Xynox. Who knows what the bill will look like between my deadline and showtime, but I guarantee it will be interesting, as every metal show I’ve seen at this venue has its own charm. The fun starts at 7 p.m., and this all-ages gig coasts a mere $5 at the door.
Wednesday
It’s not my favorite Mel Brooks movie, but it’s still a classic and undoubtedly a fun experience to see on the big screen in all of its goofy sci-fi splendor. I’m talking about Spaceballs, the Star Wars send-up with a soundtrack featuring an unlikely line-up including ’50s R&B crew The Spinners, and the timeless interstellar power of ’80s masters The Pointer Sisters and Van Halen. Anything else I could tell you is probably already buzzing around your brain via cultural osmosis like so many particles of micro-plastics, so I’ll just say, RIP Pizza the Hutt. It’s all happening at the Arcata Theatre Lounge after the doors open at 6 p.m., and tickets will run you $6 to get in, $10 to leave with a poster.
Collin Yeo (he/him) hopes that you all find the roads to freedom in the architecture of your dreams.
This article appears in Global Solidarity at the Mouth of the Klamath.