javs blog

urban sprawl never ceases to amaze me. it always makes me think of two song lyrics.. the first being “inherit the wasteland” by EARTH CRISIS:

Mankind’s will has been imposed upon the earth as though we
were alone and if our actions had no consequences.
Man crushes all that bars the way on this path to annihilation.
Taking for themselves while the other inhabitant’s
lives are given no consideration.

the other is “novocain stain” by MODEST MOUSE:

Remember through towns
With fear and fascination
On what was here
And what’s replacing them now
Interchange plazas a mall
And crowded chain restaurants
More housing developments go up
Named after the things they replace
So welcome to Minnow Brook
And welcome to Shady Space
And it all seems a little abrupt
No I don’t like this change of pace

i know that those are two pretty contrasting bands, but that’s my musical taste.

ANYWAY… i even write about it because im here at my mom’s house, in Visalia, and every time i come here the town gets bigger and i see new development sprouting up on the 99. but i even see it at home, in irvine.. in aliso viejo… it’s crazy. to think of how much has grown.. i cant even find the right words.

san diego and phoenix have the highest rate of growth in the nation right now.

visalia has one of the highest band foreclosure rates in the nation.

BROWNTOWN is our new DJ crew name. it’s me and Efrem. we’ve both been djing for a couple years now, and decided to join forces. its been amazing so far. he’s a lot of fun to hang around, and we’ve been getting a lot of jobs.

check us out.. www.myspace.com/browntowndjs

robots scare me. movies like I, Robot and A.I. paint a picture of a world that i can see happening, and i dont like it. for further reading look here and here.

my dad is funny. today he told me he was going to stab me, then he asked me to take him to blockbuster to rent Ghost Rider. i could tell many stories about WHY he was funny, but that pretty much sums it up.

he’s not really my REAL dad. His name is Thomas Manuel VanHuss. We have the same middle name. i always thought it would be cool if i had a son to name him that, that way i could put a II after his name. it wouldnt be jr.. it would be “the second”. he is my stepdad, and he legally adopted me when i was in 5th grade, and i took his last name.

my real father is named Manuel V. Almodova. i dont know what the V. stands for. i have seen him for about a total of 45 minutes since 1993. once was in about 1998 when i visited me in a motel room in albuquerque. he was driving through to go to his home in arizona, and i was there visiting my grandma. he stopped by, said hi, gave me 400 dollars and said bye. the last time i saw him was about 3 years ago at my uncle Hender’s funeral. i sat between my parents for the first time since i was 2. no one in his life calls him Manuel. everyone, and i mean everyone calls him HACKSAW. i dont know why, but my mom says it has something to do with him being indian. ive always been jealous that he has a cooler name than me.

I dont know my dad’s dad’s name. i only know he was 100% Creek Indain, or so im told. i think his name might be ben.

here is a picture of my two dads. thomas is on the left, devin in the middle, and hacksaw on the right. notice how STOKED devin looks

my mom gave me a candle yesterday from San Xavier del Bac mission in Tuscon, Arizona. apparently it’s what i was named after. im pretty sure my mom had a pretty powerful mescaline trip there, and decided to name me after it. she told me once about how she used to deal mescaline and peyote.

today my mom told me that my uncle makes a living by growing pot and selling it to clinics, and that the city he lives in lets you have at least 25 pot plants, as long as they are grown indoors cause it makes the city stink.

my family is pretty awesome.

In 1995 i got a letter from buffalo, ny. it wasnt that strange, as i had put out a couple fanzines and people from all over the country had written me about it. this letter was from a girl named Andrea. Eventually, we started talking on the phone, and soon after i had a plane ticket to go see her.

it was easter, i think 1996. maybe 1997. i was to spend two weeks with andrea and her mother in the suburb of of buffalo called Cheektowaga. in these two weeks i saw some amazing stuff, from vampire graves to canadian falafel.

one night andrea, me and patrick took a trip out to pigman road. they told me the story was that pigman was a farmer who was terribly ugly, and kids used to party on his land. he would chase them off and they would taunt him and yell “pigman” at him.

we turned down a terribly dark road, and went under a bridge. we parked the car on the other side of the bridge and walked up a small path to the top of the bridge, which held traintracks. as we were walking, patrick told me that one night pigman couldnt take the taunting anymore and killed some kids and hung them from the very same bridge.

once we got to the top of the bridge, all we could hear was whistling. whistling all around comeing from frogs or bugs or i dont know what. the spooky thing about that was that whatever was whistling would mimic how we whistled.

we all looked down the tracks, and at the same time we all saw something cross them, silouetted in distant lights. i dont think ive ever ran so fast in my life.

we got in the car, and patrick decided that he wanted to ride on the roof of the car and yell “pigman” three times, which was supposed to call him. we didnt stick around long enough to find out if it worked.

if you dont believe me, look here.

i dont remember what year it was, but i was sleeping on the couch at a house called SOFTCORE, and playing guitar in this little band called THROWDOWN. i was dating a girl named lizzie at the time, and lizzie and i had caught wind of SUNNY DAY REAL ESTATE playing a reunion show in seattle. we were huge fans and thought there was no WAY they’d ever tour again, and we should go up. we booked flights, arranged to stay with my friend BIG JOHN, and found out that about 14 of our friends were also making the journey. (side note, SDRE toured like 4 times after this).

it just so happened that this was the weekend that THROWDOWN was supposed to record our demo. i told them i was going to seattle, couldnt do it, and maybe they shuold find someone else to play (securing Brandan’s place in history while i became a footnote. ha.)

the first day we got to seattle, we discovered that Big John lived within walking distance of the Green River, home of the Green River Killer. we took pictures by the river.

one night john decided to take us on a tour. we passed the diner featured in Twin Peaks, saw bats fly around Issaquah Falls, and eventually made our way down a deserted road, towards the 13 Steps To Hell. it was very dark, and the dome light in Tara’s minivan kept going on and off, even though she told us her father had fixed it the week before.

John told us that the steps were just these concrete stairs in the middle of the woods that descended, and with each step you took down it got hotter and hotter. if you stepped off the last one, you died within 13 days. according to him, John Pettibone was the only person he’d ever known who had actually set foot on the concrete.

we got out of the van, leaving the girls in it. it was a spectacularly moonlit night, which helped guide our way through the forest. we came to a tunnel, and john said we had to go through the tunnel, which led under the road, to get to the steps. he then said that farmers shot at tresspassers all the time. this scared us because the girls were alone in the van.

we hurried back to the van, and as soon as we got off the dirt road that led to the 13 steps, the light stopped going on and off.

if you dont believe me, look here

im in visalia right now, and its fucking hot.

a year ago i was living in san diego.

i took devin, leah, and icky vicky down to mission bay for a little fun in the sun. i usually hate the beach, but the bay was cool because the water was shallow and warm and perfect for dev.

we got down there around noon i guess. we drove around for about 20 minutes before we found a parking spot. there was about 5 feet between the car behind me and my car. as we were getting out, a guy drove up and asked if i could pull forward so he could park behind me. i told him there wasnt enough room, and he drove off.

we stayed at the beach for about an hour and a half or so. as we were walking back to the car, i noticed a guy standing by my car. he shoved a stick into my tire. i started walking faster and as i got to the car the guy looked very surprised. it was the guy in the car from before. he had one of those sticks with a nail in the end that is used to pick up trash, and he had stabbed all four of my tires. of course, i asked him what the fuck he was doing.

he said he was mad because i wouldnt let him in.

i told him i was going to kick his fucking ass, and he started running. i ran after and told the girls to stay with dev.

this man was about fifty or sixty years old. asian. glasses. looked like the Donger from sixteen candles’ grandpa.

i chased him for about a block and he turned around and pointed the stick at me. i looked down, and saw a brick. i picked it up and threw it at him. it missed and he kept running.

about a half a block later, i saw an unopened can of Dr. Pepper. i picked it up and threw it at him. it hit him in the back but he kept running.

we ran onto Ingram street, which is a pretty main road. kinda like Newport Blvd. the chase went on for another block or so, and he once again stopped and pointed the stick at me. at this time, a lifted truck pulled up and two bros came out, as it seemed like i was just trying to beat this guy up. i told one of the guys what happened, and he suggested i called the cops.

instead, i punched the man in the chest and he fell to the ground. i grabbed the stick from him and broke it in half.

the guy told me i just committed assault, and i should just go.

i told the asian man to give me all of his money. he opened his wallet, as he was lying on the ground, and pulled out a twenty. i clearly saw a stack of money in his wallet, and demanded more.

the bro told me i was now committing strong arm robbery.

i told the man i would put him in the hospital if he didnt give me all the money he had.

he gave me 160 dollars.

i walked back to the car, and we waited for a tow truck. it picked my car up, and we waited at a nearby liquor store for Shelly to come pick us up.

the next day i got a ride to the tire shop, where i had four new tires put on. i dont remember exactly how much it cost, but between the tow and the tires i had spent more than the man gave me.

i didnt care much because i knew it would be a time id always remember.

seven years ago i was in syracuse, ny. my band had played hell fest a couple days before, and since we were denied access to canada due to the criminal records of Biggie and myself, we arranged to play with The August Prophecy in a church. we shot fireworks at each other in the street, and took some of the clothes from the charity drop box and played in them. i think.
a couple months later i would play my last show with this band, but thats another story entirely.

today i got to work at 10. it took me about 15 minutes to realize i wasnt scheduled to work.
i dont want to go back.

i love america, but i hate the united states of america. if that makes sense. i love the country.. the states.. but i hate the government and what the USA has come to represent.

i have a story i really want to tell, but i dont feel like doing it right now.