M is for Myg

Live your god damned dream

Archive for December, 2007

Your Top Ten for 2007

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The asteroid 1113 Katja orbits the Sun every 2000 days, give or take an hour.

Don’t give me your top ten for 2007; I already know what they are. Last week, when you were waiting in line for coffee and adjusting your scarf, I saw inside your soul. I didn’t mean to — but we’re so close, you and I. All of the sudden — I was calling the super to complain about the heat — there you were.

I wonder — did you see inside my soul too? Will my top ten get me into heaven? Do they have turntables there? What if I don’t have a top ten? Well, you’d certainly be on it — and this nasty wound I’ve been dealing with; that’s a big one, personally. The Chinese economy deserves a spot, and what about poor Lindsey Lohan? Can you see them, my top ten? What else can you see inside me?


Christmas Eve was a blast. You already know about the big proposal. No one noticed Romana, Benjamin, and my fine foxy self gettin it on in the corner. Lucky boy.

Watch this space for Clockwork’s New Year’s Eve schedule.

funk for the masses | 24 December 2007: play or right-click here to download.

Set list:

Big Sam’s Funky Nation: Big Sam’s Funky Nation
Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings: Tell Me
Four Larks: Keep Climbing Brother
Georgie Woods: Potato Salad Pt. 1
AC Jones and the Soulettes: Hole In Your Soul
Fred Wesley & The J.B.’s: Damn Right, I Am Somebody (Parts 1 & 2)
Malcom X [music Keith LeBlanc]: No Sell Out
Honeycut: Tough Kid
Mocean Worker: Hey Baby
The Pinker Tones: Sonido Total
Basement Freaks: Duru People
Ticklejunk Allstars: Hot Garbage
Mexican Institute of Sound: El Microfono
RD Stokes: My Sandra’s Jump
Nicole Willis & The Soul Investigators: Feeling Free
Miriam Makeba: Malcolm X
Aretha Franklin: God Will Take Care of You


Flesh for Fantasy

The recap:

[20:27]  Alexander Burgess: ok, doll
[20:27]  Alexander Burgess: take a breather from dancing for just a sec
[20:27]  You: k
[20:27]  Alexander Burgess: and click on that poseball by your present
[20:27]  Topgol: Meooww!
[20:27]  JellyBean Madison: *smiles* yay
[20:28]  Romana Wei: awww
[20:28]  You: oh no way
[20:28]  Sable Slade: omg
[20:28]  Alexander Burgess gave you RH Engel-Fantasia Engagement Ring-White Gold.
[20:28]  Alexander Burgess: Merry Christmas, Myg
[20:28]  Orchid Zenovka: omg
[20:28]  Alexander Burgess: I love you
[20:28]  JellyBean Madison: Awwww
[20:28]  Alexander Burgess: take that spliff out of your mouth
[20:28]  You: ….can’t type….hold on
[20:28]  Romana Wei: haha
[20:29]  Alexander Burgess: because you look so hot in that outfit
[20:29]  Alexander Burgess: especially the socks
[20:29]  You: bling fucking on baby
[20:30]  Moody Morrisey: yeah baby!
[20:30]  Alexander Burgess: is that a yes?
[20:30]  You: is it really a question?
[20:30]  Alexander Burgess: well, in a sense
[20:30]  Topgol: Meooww!
[20:31]  Topgol: Meooww!
[20:32]  JellyBean Madison: i always cryy at weddings
[20:32]  Moody Morrisey: awwwww
[20:32]  You: hahahaha sorry we were afk
[20:32]  Alexander Burgess: lol sorry just a moment here on this end
[20:32]  JellyBean Madison: lol
[20:33]  Alexander Burgess: <==big dope
[20:33]  JellyBean Madison: we figured
[20:33]  Sable Slade: haha
[20:33]  Romana Wei: absolutely not…we want your full attention in SL now!
[20:33]  Benjamin Bigdipper: that was quick though… 😉
[20:33]  Moody Morrisey: you goofballs we love you!
[20:33]  Alexander Burgess: shup Ben
[20:33]  Topgol: purr…
[20:33]  Orchid Zenovka: :)
[20:33]  Alexander Burgess: it was one kiss
[20:33]  Alexander Burgess: you hold your breath for 5 mins
[20:33]  Moody Morrisey: funky en espanol!
[20:34]  Scope Cleaver is Offline
[20:35]  You: No you CANNOT stand up
[20:35]  Alexander Burgess: my knee is killing me
[20:35]  You: stay right there!
[20:35]  Moody Morrisey: lol
[20:35]  Orchid Zenovka: lol
[20:35]  You: This is a once in a Slifetime moment!
[20:35]  Alexander Burgess: lol
[20:35]  Orchid Zenovka: hahaha
[20:36]  Moody Morrisey: take pictures!
[20:36]  You: I can’t believe you proposed to me in this dumb little hat!
[20:36]  Alexander Burgess: heheh
[20:36]  You: you are awesome
[20:36]  Alexander Burgess: that’ll teach you to dress 😛
[20:37]  JellyBean Madison: ty ty for doing this before i went to work lol
[20:37]  You: aww ty for being here
[20:37]  JellyBean Madison: but now i gotta jet for figgy puddin
[20:37]  JellyBean Madison: *mwuah* kisses & merry christmas all
[20:37]  You: You all have no idea how much I love this guy
[20:37]  You: well maybe you do
[20:37]  JellyBean Madison: Awww yay
[20:37]  Moody Morrisey: bye jelly baby!
[20:37]  You: merry Xmas Jell
[20:37]  JellyBean Madison is Offline
[20:37]  You: have a good one!
[20:37]  Romana Wei: bye Jellybean
[20:39]  You: Romana will you marry us?
[20:39]  You: As mayor of Topgol?
[20:40]  Moody Morrisey: a thrresome. of course she will!
[20:40]  Romana Wei: damn Topgol
[20:40]  Romana Wei: damn lag
[20:40]  Topgol: meeow!
[20:40]  Alexander Burgess: my ao is busted
[20:40]  Topgol: meeow!
[20:40]  Romana Wei: yes!!!
[20:40]  Moody Morrisey: oh “marry you” in *that* sense
[20:41]  Alexander Burgess: lol
[20:41]  Alexander Burgess: nice one Moody
[20:41]  Moody Morrisey: thx
[20:41]  You: hahaha
[20:41]  Sable Slade: i was thinking the same thing Moody
[20:41]  Alexander Burgess: you should check out the bread-meat-bread danceballs in the corner
[20:41]  You: we’ll all change our last name to Morrisey!
[20:41]  You: and we’ll all be married!
[20:41]  Romana Wei: that’s not allowed here Moody, this is Topgol, not godless Massachusetts!
[20:41]  Topgol: purr…
[20:41]  Moody Morrisey: MEAT IS MURDER
[20:41]  Alexander Burgess: lol
[20:42]  Alexander Burgess: Moody <3’s teh smiths
[20:42]  Topgol: Meooww!
[20:42]  Moody Morrisey: BTW, how soon is now?
[20:42]  Alexander Burgess: hang the dj
[20:42]  Romana Wei: you want to be married right now?
[20:42]  Alexander Burgess: lol
[20:42]  Alexander Burgess: noooo
[20:43]  Alexander Burgess: that’s a party deseving planning
[20:43]  Romana Wei: ok good…cause i’m stoned!
[20:43]  You: no we need to plan a hyoooge fucking event
[20:43]  Alexander Burgess: lol
[20:43]  Topgol: meeow!
[20:43]  Moody Morrisey: Hot Garbage!
[20:43]  Topgol: Meooww!
[20:43]  Romana Wei: did I tell you I performed a wedding in RL?
[20:43]  Alexander Burgess: ymmy!
[20:45]  You: wow!
[20:45]  Moody Morrisey: Hot Garbage!
[20:45]  Moody Morrisey: Everybody say it. Hot Garbage!
[20:45]  Sable Slade shouts: Hot Garbage!
[20:46]  Alexander Burgess shouts: Hot Garbage!
[20:46]  Moody Morrisey: that’s right
[20:46]  Topgol: meeow!
[20:46]  Topgol: meeow!
[20:46]  Romana Wei gave you Alex on Knees.
[20:47]  Topgol: Meooww!
[20:47]  Topgol: purr…
[20:47]  Topgol: meeow!
[20:47]  Sable Slade: brb
[20:47]  You: ty Ro!
[20:47]  Topgol: meeow!
[20:47]  Romana Wei: your welcome!
[20:48]  Romana Wei: you’re
[20:48]  Romana Wei: *
[20:48]  Alexander Burgess: lol
[20:48]  Moody Morrisey: Clockwork is a good grammar zone
[20:48]  Slowdance v6 whispers: synchronising
[20:48]  Slowdance v6 whispers: synchronising
[20:48]  Romana Wei: absolutely!
[20:48]  Moody Morrisey: awww look at ’em dancin
[20:48]  Romana Wei: Mr. Wendel is the subject of sentence, and what the predicate says, he does!
[20:48]  Alexander Burgess: uh oh, Myg’s against that
[20:49]  Alexander Burgess: lol Romana!
[20:49]  Alexander Burgess: nice one.
[20:49]  Topgol: meeow!
[20:49]  Topgol: Meooww!
[20:50]  Scope Cleaver is Online
[20:50]  You: Can I get a w00t over here?
[20:50]  Romana Wei: Woot!
[20:51]  Alexander Burgess: w00tt00w!!
[20:51]  Moody Morrisey: w00t! w00t!
[20:51]  Benjamin Bigdipper: /woot
[20:51]  You: w00t!


Christmas Eve at Clockwork!



Are you ready?



Yo yo yo! Ho ho ho!

We don’t mean to brag;
We don’t mean to boast,
But Christmas Eve’s
Gonna rock the most.

Let’s party, let’s party, let’s party.

Hey now. Get your fine foxy self down to Clockwork (SLurl Topgol 230, 138, 55) this Monday for the hippinest, happenest Christmas Eve music extravaganza and motherfuckin’ party funkdown this side of the Crab Nebula!

From 6-8 pm SL time, dj keTchUp takes you on a trip into the exploding super-nova blindness of your own musical consciousness with n(e)xT. (That means he plays new music, you n00bs.)

and then from from 8-9 pm or so, dj Esteban will hit you so hard with the funk connection, your whole family will get a groove on.

Plus: Morriseys, no doubt.



Mr. Linden broke mah Windlight


I was all excited for the new Windlight this eve.  It’d be better, stronger, less buggy and with less LAG, right? Fucking wrong. I got teh Wrath Windlight syndrome! See all those black stripes? Do you have any idea what it’s doing to the value on beachfront? For Chrissakes, it’s supposed to be an “update” not a fuck-update!

Am I over-reacting again?


We are the pretty, petty thieves, and you’re standing on our street.


Okay, this started a couple of weeks ago when this charming man, Wrath, the biggest Morrissey/Smiths freak that ever was, noticed that “Morrisey” was an available SL last name. Someone pointed out that it would be funny if we had a Smiths/Morrissey night at Clockwork and all came with alts with the last name “Morrisey.” Well, hang the dj, that’s a brilliant idea. (And yes, we understand it’s not exactly the spelling of Moz’ last name. Leave the second S off for sorrow. Or something.) We laughed about it and agreed we should. But, as we have brilliant ideas all the time (ha!), we didn’t immediately pursue it.

But last night we started talking about it again and began thinking of first names to go with “Morrisey.” Myg disappeared and then, faster than a hairdresser on fire, this ugly n00b “Myg Morrisey” tp’d into the club. It was on. Soon there was “More,” “KillUncle,” “JellyBean,” “HawksRock,” “Jillian,” and “Suedehead” Morrisey. By the end of the night we had “Sable,” “Nene,” “Piccadilly,” and “Zo.” It won’t stop there.


Morriseys are against rules. They are anarchic, friendly, and weird.

Morriseys generally travel in packs. Though there are no rules, Morriseys feel more comfortable in the company of other Morriseys. A lone Morrisey is a vulnerable target, and we don’t want to feel more vulnerable than we already do. Also, traveling in packs is a moveable feast, a transient Morrisey mob. While out traveling in packs, Morriseys will be noticed. Don’t panic. Stick together. Ask the people if they like The Smiths or Morrissey. When they say “yes” jubilance ensues. Encourage them to change their last name to Morrisey immediately.

What will come of this? I wouldn’t say, no. But you can bet there will be events, probably parties, sets, and Morrisey Mobs. Eventually, we will outnumber the Lindens. Get your Morrisey now. How soon is now? Today. Join the group -=Morrisey=-. Await instructions.

Update/Morriseys news:
My SLife with the Thrill Kill Morrisey Cult
Wrath Paine in Night of a Thousand Morriseys


How to Get Well

Wasn’t there something I could do? I asked the nurse. I was tired of being wounded.

“It just takes time,” he said.

Like I understand time, I thought. I’m a DJ, not a physicist. Ask most people about time and they’ll look at their watch. Like clockwork. Is that really what time is? A thing we count out like dollars at the bank? That can’t be. Isaac Newton, born prematurely, rode his horse from Woolsthorpe-by-Colsterworth to London and asked for a glass of water. The Queen made him Master of the Mint and he believed in the gold standard. Everything of value could be measured in ounces of gold. He drank mercury and died loveless.

Here’s what a DJ knows: a metronome isn’t music. Time isn’t money. Money isn’t love. So (are you following?) time doesn’t heal wounds; love does. That’s what time it is.

I smiled. “All you need is love.” And I kissed him gently on the lips.


Listen to it.

funk for the masses | 17 December 2007: play or right-click here to download.

Set list:

Earth, Wind & Fire: Shining Star
Earth Wind & Fire: Got To Get You Into My Life
Stevie Wonder: You Met Your Match
Johnny Griffith: I Want Some “Satisfaction” Inst.
The Detroit Sex Machines: Rap It Together
James Brown: I Don’t Want Nobody To Give Me Nothing
Marco Polo: The Radar (Remix Instrumental)
Ozomatli: Magnolia Soul
Joss Stone: Fell In Love With A Boy
Cake: Nugget
Beck: Hotwax
The Beatles: Savoy Truffle
The Clash: The Magnificent Seven
Cameo: Word Up
Earth Wind & Fire: C’mon Children
Aaron Neville: Tell It Like It Is


n(e)xT and the anti-Monday anti-gravity get down!

Gravitational anomaly

Here we go again. Yes, indeed. As 2007 winds down with a slew of excellent parties and sets, the great new music keeps pouring in to the Clockwork offices and do we have some aural gingerbread for you this week. If you show up at Clockwork (SLurl Topgol 230, 138, 55) tonight at 6 pm SL time to get the latest, newest, hottest, bestest, coolest, hippest indie/rock/electrowhat and then stick around for the finest in fresh funck from Clockwork’s own dj Esteban (8-9pm SL time) who will be throwing hot wax like s/he worked in a lips factory.

The schedule at the club is a work-week extravanganza, and if you missed dj Xaxoqual’s set of electronica last night, well, don’t come crying to us when you feel embarassed and shameful at the holiday parties because you don’t know anything about the latest tracks from Samim, Ost & Kjex, and Sneakthief.

Here’s our current lineup:

Sundays, 6-8 pm: Mandelbrot set with dj Xaxoqual

Mondays, 6-8 pm: n(e)xT new music with dj keTchUp

Mondays, 8-9 pm or so: Anti-Monday funk with dj Esteban

Tuesdays, 6-8 pm: Hawks Rocks with HawksRock

Wednesdays, 6-8 pm: Midweek mixup with dj Garrett

Thursdays, 4-6 pm: Start the party early with dj Guen

Thursdays, 6-7 pm: Skankin’ Thursdays (and all kinds of faves) with dj JellyBean

Come out and get your picture taken with Santa’s minions!

Christmas at Clockwork


I know I’ll get better — I planned it that way — but right now it hurts like hell.

The nurse said the wound had gotten infected. He cleaned it and filled it with gauze, like a dentist fills your mouth with cotton balls. If the wound were a mouth. What language would it speak?

In Dante’s wood of suicides, when the branches break, words and blood come out together:

…we made our way into a forest
where there was no sign of any path.

No green leaves, no spreading branches,
No apples growing there — instead, ashen leaves;
knotted, twisted boughs; and poisoned thorns.

…and then I extened my hand
and snapped a little sprig from a great branch —
and the tree cried out: “Why do you wound me?”

…so from that broken branch, out came inseparably
the blood and the words together. I let the twig
fall — and I stood like a man in fear.*

And if my wound could talk?

I will hurry away, shrink into memory where the quiet suffering lies. Think of me as a ripple on a lake, vanishing after the wind dapples the shore with the rustle of lilies. I am nothing to fear.

The nurse made me tea from nettles. He said a wound is a memory. I remember when I was a kid. My friend and I were riding our bicycles over a stone bridge. His knuckles skinned against the wall, and a hole opened up in his hand; you could see the bones.

We’ve all been there. We’re thousands of years old. We still need love most of all.


funk for the masses | 10 December 2007: play or right-click here to download.

Set list:

The Fabulous Counts: Jan Jan
The Fabulous Counts: Girl From Kenya
Brass Construction: Movin
Dyke and the Blazers: Funky Broadway (Part I)
Dyke and the Blazers: Funky Broadway (Part II)
JD and The Evil’s Dynamite Band: Haaa-Sheesh
Sir Joe Quarterman And FreeSoul: (I Got) So Much Trouble in My Mind
Shuggie Otis: Ice Cold Daydream
Commodores: Brick House
Daft Punk: Da Funk
Connie Price and The Keystones: Sucker Punch
The Whitefield Brothers: The Bastard
Lefties Soul Connection: Move What You Got
Fatback Band: Njia (NIJA) Walk
Funkadelic: Biological Speculation
Bettye LaVette: Your Turn to Cry

* Inferno XIII:

…noi ci mettemmo per un bosco
che da neun sentiero era segnato.

Non fronda verde, ma di color fosco;
non rami schietti, ma nodosi e ‘nvolti;
non pomi v’eran, ma stecchi con tòsco.

….allor porsi la mano un poco avante,
e colsi un ramicel da un gran pruno;
e ‘l tronco suo gridò: «Perché mi schiante?».

….sì de la scheggia rotta usciva insieme
parole e sangue; ond’io lasciai la cima
cadere, e stetti come l’uom che teme.


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