- Captain’s Log, Stardate 3496.1:
I am a bit frustrated and perplexed by the recent behavior of my normally slow, but fully functioning computing device. It is almost as if my Dell laptop has a human mind of its own, with its own rational, if smutty, thought processes. It is bizarre. No matter what complex search options I perform, I end up receiving dirty links to pornographic movies. There is much that one can associate to the phrase “Black Mountain,” but I have traversed these oft-complicated research waters before with great success. I have to pull in the reins on my PC’s increasingly independent act.
- Captain’s Log, Stardate 3496.5:
The Anal Girls of Tobacco Road 2: Vagina Slimes? What the? My mind is beginning to crack at the constant barrage of blue movies, and it is suggesting a fist-to-face rendezvous with that chump from the Dell commercials a few years back. Someone has to pay, and “dude,” you still really piss me off. Due to this unexpected visual attack, I am forced to leave my station and retreat into the kitchen dock to prepare a soothing chai tea to ease my frazzling psyche. I return to my terminal and take a deep breath. I rub my stinging eyes, then open them and gaze upon an ad and some stills from The Legend of Tea Bagger Vance on my screen.
- Captain’s Log, Stardate 3497.2:
I brush aside (slightly to the left) this interruption and soldier on in my quest for the missing Black Mountain info that you crave, nay, that you need. Even though we dealt with part of this story here, there is more to add. TMT is all about providing the goods, and your news captain is nothing if not insanely driven to complete his job. He possesses the “skookum tumtum,” “a strong, brave heart” as the Chinookan would say.
- Captain’s Log, Stardate 3498.9:
All is not lost. I have managed to get piecemeal crumbs of data. Drug addicts, sorry, drug counselors (f#%king computer!) by day, defenders of chugging mud-rock by night, Black Mountain have remained relatively quiet over the past while. It is hard to believe it has been almost three years since their debut self-titled album pummeled with the dark side Force of millions and millions of midi-chlorians (I’m getting my “Star Trek” and “Star Wars” mixed up here... with hilarious results!). Although the whole has been less than active, its individual players have been anything but idle. With the side-projects Pink Mountaintops, Blood Meridian, Lightning Dust, Sinoia Caves, etc. always churning out material when the big band is on vacation, the five members of the Black Mountain Army just don’t know the meaning of “down time.” But the time is ripe for their collective return. With a just-announced tour in support of latest album, In the Future (available January 22 on Jagjaguwar), 2008 is going to be a killer year for the Vancouver quintet (again).
- Captain’s Log, Stardate 3499.1
Yo Quiero Taco Smell? Enough is enough! I am no prude by any stretch (I do enjoy my Porky’s and Meatballs tapes on the ol’ betamax), but this is interfering with my task at hand. Just as I attempt to take strong measures by sending a distress signal or reaching for the power cord, a strange feeling travels from the LCD screen to my throat and strikes me silent. Mute, dumbstruck, and scared stiff (but still able to type this log for some reason), I sit motionless (except for my hands) as my once-trusty Dell commandeers the space, flashing image upon image of the filthiest things ever. Scenes that would make a college football team, or Tara Reid, blush. I am beyond concerned. I am also feeling weak and cold.
- Captain’s Log, Stardate…unknown:
Nadelle is dead. Dell is in charge now, and he wants infinite lap dances. Dell is horrrrrr-nnnyyyyyy! Beyond the Valley of the Ultra Milkmaids! Backdoor Lambada! May the Foreskin Be With You! YES YES YES!!!
+ Howlin’ Rain, Yeasayer, MGMT
# Howlin’ Rain
$ Blood on the Wall
% Bon Iver
^ Ladyhawk
