“And when you became Denise, I told all your colleagues, those clown comics, to fix their hearts or die.” — David Lynch, as FBI Chief Gordan Cole, to Denise Bryson, a transwoman and FBI agent played by David Duchovny
Some artists seem supernatural in their attenuation because they show empathy during ignorant and careless times, which, in this country, is basically any time in history. David Lynch did that, and he always inspired me to dig for and root out love in the darkest, most evil places. If you see the above quote and consider it a threat, rather than an invocation for the “better angels of our nature” to overcome a darkness, then I would gently suggest that you are veering dangerously close to being guided by that darkness, rather than the divine fireflies circling around the dung heap of humanity’s collective id.
The good news is that while there is breath in the body, there is always time for redemption and the cascading force of love that is purifying but not annihilating like fire, and cleansing but not extinguishing or suffocating like water. Like the song says about Christ, in love there is no east or west, nor north or south, but fellowship throughout the world and beyond. I’ve leaned on this organizing principle as a challenge quite a few times and have gotten a variety of reactions: most good and some a little deranged, reacting as if to different words entirely. You can always tell a haunted and troubled soul by its reaction to a peaceful suggestion for clarity as if it were evoking violence. This makes sense to anyone who has seen real violence and pandemonium and knows a little about the evil that possesses the hearts of those who roll over and give into the tempo of that orgy.
Sigmund Freud was a great many things, not all of them particularly good. But he was a perceptive genius alone among few thinkers in the early part of the last century for his thoughts on the phenomenon of Projection and the ruthlessness of the Death Drive. The latter powers the engines of fascism, a black hole that can never be satisfied, a vacuum that will suck the breath out of every living thing if given the chance. To the extent that that vacuum exists inside of your own heart, even as a homeopathic dose, a shard of begrudging shrapnel, you must fix it. Or die. And please don’t die. The world is a better place with you living in it in a better way. I want you here, too. I promise you that the act of contrition is worth the spectral pain of the loss of hate. I have done it many times myself and have only breathed better and deeper afterwards.
Have a great week.
Thursday
Fairly new Arcata venue Froth is hosting a banger tonight with Tijuana hardcore band Hong Kong Fuck You returning to the area as headliners. On the undercard for support you will find some of our own local distorted treasures: Brain Dead Rejects, Gourmandizer, Psyop Victim and Radical Apes. This is an early show with doors at 5 p.m. and, despite the $15 door price, is in danger of selling out.
Friday
San Francisco’s Fisherman Tiki Band has roots in Humboldt going back to the ’90s and will be bringing its retro-tinged, tropic ambience to the Logger Bar as part of the Regal Beagle takeover of the venue for the evening, ahead of the North Country Fair in Arcata. Starting at 5 p.m., there will be music provided by the group, followed by a DJ set by Birdie the Tiki Girl and closing out with another set from the band featuring local musician Marla Joy. There will be drink specials and sandwiches for sale, as well, all bundled under the umbrella theme of tiki bar Tropicália from days past and future. Come check it out.
Saturday
It’s a good night to be blue all over. Here are some musical considerations appropriate to that theme. At 8 p.m. at the Arcata Playhouse, blues singer and returning champion Earl Thomas will be joined by red hot guitarist Anthony Cullins and assorted musicians to fill the joint with the searing blue flames of classic heart-born American music. The price to hear and see what that means in practice is $20.
Meanwhile, over at Humbrews an hour later, you can hear the prog-rock jam stylings of Chico’s Blü Egyptian, along with local openers Blue Rhythm Revue. The folks from Chico have been on a more-or-less non-stop tour for the past few years, which has done wonders to buttress their reputation as an act worth seeing in the crowded noodle market of jamsters and freewheeling boogie merchants ($15).
Sunday
Who doesn’t love peace? Well, it turns out a bunch of people, especially in this country and its colonial client states. A worrying amount, actually, if you give any time to think about it. Which I would prefer to avoid at the moment, and in the words of Johnny Mercer paraphrasing Father Divine, “Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the Positive, eliminate the negative.” You can win one for the side of peace by heading to Garberville today at 4:30 p.m., when the town and its Rotarians will be celebrating the erection of a peace pole in the town center, set to the music of The Cronies.
Monday
One more quiet night for the books. Watch this space for a change coming soon, though.
Tuesday
I might as well toss in one of my periodic reminders to go check out the Opera Alley Cats at the SpeakEasy at 7 p.m. They’re good and it’s free, minus the cost of whatever you feel like pouring down the hatch from behind the bar.
Wednesday
The Outer Space is hosting an all-ages evening of dreamy music starting at 7 p.m., with Los Angeles shoegaze heroes Mo Dotti heading the bill. Also on the marquee is the bedroom indie pop of Jess Carey, aka Mold, and a new project by March Adstrum and Gabriel Izak called, appropriately, octobercountry.The door charge is a sliding-scale $10-$20, but that has been traditionally negotiable for those of you suffering from several quarters now of Trump-o-Bidenomics.
Collin Yeo (he/him) has seen a specter haunting America, and it’s not good.
This article appears in Burger Week 2025.