I’m heading to Chicago tomorrow to attend the final two Guided By Voices shows ever. More than I care to reveal at this juncture, it’s fitting that long ago I elected to close out one of the kookier years of my life in the company of GBV, a band that, to my surprise and mostly because of my own stupidity, provided a good deal of the kookiness. I can’t say that I’ll be sorry to see 2004 go. Despite selling a book to a publisher of big-ass pamphlets and transforming Angry John Sellers into a worldwide strip-mall phenomenon (look for me right next to Fashion Bug!), I’ve had some truly regrettable things happen to me in these past twelve months. And when I say twelve months, I’m really just talking about six of them: April through August, and November. Would anyone care if I got superhumanly wasted one of the nights I’m in Chicago to celebrate making it through the year without sticking my head under Dick Cheney’s chair pillow and waiting for the cheeks to fall?

Motto for 2005: No more mopey bullshit, unless I’m listening to Joy Division.

One other thing: Back in June, I embarked upon something I called Operation Shutdown, which was a feeble attempt to quit being such a douche. Unfortunately, it didn’t really work, though I did finally get around to reading a few books I probably should have read years ago. Anyway, I forgot to inform the nation that Operation Shutdown has officially shut down. Ended in October, actually. My new mission, effective a few sentences from now, is Operation Shut-up. It will last until January 3. See you in ’05.


Cassie, my mom’s extremely fluffy, 15.5-year-old cat is on the verge of being put to sleep. May go today, damn it.