December 31, 2002

Greetings, my little chickadees. Here we are again at the same point in our solar orbit as last year, poised to begin yet another headlong swing around the hellish unquenchable flames of our nearest stellar neighbor. The new year is almost upon us, in other works. Even as we speak, an eternal loop of Guy Lombardo’s band playing “Auld Lang Syne” fills the air here in Mundoblaineo. Hephestus, my vulcanologist and Clothilde, the chief eunuch must work overtime to keep the bubble machine topped up with rare and costly perfumes from the mystic east. (This would be the east of Athens where the noble fragrance “Axe” may be had for two dinari the hogshead. Ah, heady days!)

Those deluded fools amongst you who swallow the rabid dog drool that is chinese astrology may be curious to know that 2003 will be the year of the goat, and/or the sheep. sheep sounds about right as dubya saunters lazily into war, just for the hell of it and the u.s. congress and the american public just bend over, grease themselves up and show him which part of their collective anatomy will pleasure him up most.
And far in the East, Typhon doth crack he cheeks for to blow a turrible tempest upon ye infidel slugs! Woe! Guai! Guai! Fie! Pi r squaRED! and so on….

Apropos of pretty much nothing, I came upon two bons mots about art while reading Kurt Vonnegut the other day. (Yes, Kurt still alive, occasionally worth reading.)

“I say in speeches that a plausible mission of artists is to make people appreciate being alive at least a little bit. I am then asked if I know of any artists who pulled that off. I reply ‘The Beatles did.'”


“Artists are people who say, ‘I can’t fix my country or my state or my city, or even my marriage. But..I can make this square of canvas, or this piece of paper, or this lump of clay, or these twelve bars of music, exactly what they OUGHT to be!'”

So, in conclusion, my steaming love dumplings, let all of us in the dirigible moored on Mount Olympus which is Mundoblaineo Galactic Headquarters wish you and yours the best time possible as we observe the coming of 2003. Be reassured that even Scientific American now tells us that “Time is…probably an illusion.” God rest ye merry, Mary, with Nietzsche’s notion of eternal re-occurrence, be good because you JUST MIGHT HAVE TO GO THROUGH ALL OF THIS CRAP AGAIN!

blessings upon ye

sri guido

Elvis Past Life Readings,Xmas Gig, Pacman


Elvis past life readings,Xmas gig, Pacman

Greetings. You have 4 of your earth shopppping days until the festival of your deity, Santa Christ. My sources inform me that you must burn all of the paper entropy symbols for which you strive so earnestly the rest of the year in order to keep the howling void at bay for another orbit. I have made similar preparations and shall be burning my EURO “coins” with my quantum spin cancelling pistol in my usual sacrifical locus, MacDonald’s. Merry New Year.

Be advisled that Blaine will play with two of his buddies at the admirable Athens establishment known as “To Mikro Theatro Musikon” or “The Small Musical Theatre”. This place is renowned for being:
a. small
b. a musical theatre

I will be destroying a series of seasonal ditties in the company of two of my Athens chums, Christopher Silvey and Pan Pirakos. The show will begin at 22:30 on Sunday, December 22, 2002. Be there or be rhomboid.

I would like to welcome new members on board. You know who you are. Don’t you?


I’d like to, like, hip you dudes to new additionizations sitewise. First, we got a new additionization to Elvis’ much-loved game zone
PACMAN! Of course, I wanted to ‘theme’ the game to fit in with the (pretty flimsy) Elvis flavor of the region, but it’s just pacman.
Pretend you are in 1982 in your favorite disreputable dive, pumping quarters (and/or francs, pfennigs, yen) into a flickering radiation-emitting color tv attached to a 5hz CPU. As David Boweed has said “In space it’s always 1982”. Ain’t it the truth? Don’t you wish you’d said that?

chuck it out, dodes.


After the smash hit of my ASK ELVIS section, the King has agreed to sit in for PAST LIFE CONSULTATIONS, right here on Mundoblaineo.

ain’t that wonderful.

No one remembers Lucas Samaras. When I began taking photos of myself all over the damn place with the auto-timer function on my camera, I used to say “This reminds me of Lucas Samaras” and people would say “WHO?” or “WHUT?” Well, there’s a picture of this seemingly forgotten man up on my site now. People will still say “whut?” but they can’t say I didn’t try. He used to do SX70 art. “SX 70? Whut that? A new Palmtop?”

And that’s about it for today, gang.



Oh yes, if I don’t speak with you before then


Avant Pop Manifesto, Christmas Deconstruction Site

*****The latest from******

The site that would be a man, this man.


Greetings ladies and germs. Forgive me if I am preaching to the converted here, and/or boldly going where everyone has been before, but it seems like my conscious mind is finally catching up with the instinctive, butt-sniffin’ dog that is my artistic neandearthal self. I have been just diggin’ in to arty endeavor pretty much my whole life and puttin’ my pinky up to the wind, followin’ my nose and not exactly knowing why. “what the hell are you on about?” I hear you say.

Surf, sample, manipulate. surf, sample, manipulate. sounds good to me. I have been taking xmas carols from a MIDI file site. I want to play Christmas songs with some other cyboid geeks and destroy them. Why? Because I HATE CHRISTMAS THAT’S WHY!!! HE HE HE HE.
Not really. I love christmas.
I am lying.
everything i say is a lie. including the previous sentence. not really. maybe.

(p.s. you may have noticed my failure to capitalize words. sometimes i don’t, then my inner grammar school teacher
steps in and I must do as I am tole. i am ee cummings. no i’m not.)

I went online to find some kind of post mo manifesto, found one, some wordy geek named uh…let’s see
Mark America. Lives in Boulder as it happens. seems like this guy has been thinking as I have all this time, what with my notion of Joeboy the Electronic Ghost and all of that. We are what are known as “bricoleurs”. this is claude levi-strauss’ word for those who cobble together ‘texts’ in whatever medium. It seems that a text in this sense is different from what our print-driven minds would suppose. anything can be a text. a website is a text. a song is a text. a text is a text.

none of this is new. this is that whole semiotic/structuralist/postmodernist thing that has been kicking around for some time, especially among the more intellectual types who have haunted the new wave punko part of the cultural spectrum.

it’s just that I have come to realize that there is and has been a method to my madness. my webbing and bricolage over the years are an integral part, not a side effect of this exciting epistemology. my last coupla shows have been a vindication of sorts. yes, virginia, i do have a new direction. yes, it is cynical as hell. “let’s download midi files of christmas songs and pictures of car crashes and give the proles what for!” yeah. viva la revolucion.

oh yes. i forgot. “Americans don’t do irony.”
innarestin’ thing about irony is that those on the receiving end of the ironical must believe, along with the ironizer, that the ironizer is better, smarter, wiser and more moral than his material. americans are not used to coming into a discussion with any kind of preparation, thus often find themselves in the dark. everything must be dished up on a plate for americans. to expect someone in the audience to actually KNOW SOMETHING a priori is asking too much.

oh yes oh yes oh yes.

I found some wonderfully terrible midi files of xmas songs online. I also found a place, not a porn site, where on the first of every month a group of people (somewhere in california) have a sort of orgy onlines and the online audience, connected via chat and video interface are asked to masturbate along. the purveyors of this event, called ‘globalgasm’ profess to want everyone to orgasm in synch in order to raise the planetary consciousness. well, I know where I will be on January 1st.

the whole goddam thing is just too damn excitin’.

The small music theatre of athens presents Blaine L. Reininger’s Christmas Deconstruction Site. We will deconstruct a series of well-known Christmas songs, mostly from the American-English tradition which has declared itself world culture thanks to mass-media. Greek songs will not be immune, however.

Participating will be Blaine L. Reininger on violin, vocals, guitar, FM radio, found objects and visual heresy,Christopher Silvey on trumpet, video, and DJ, and Pan Pirakos on keyboards, didgeridoo and hair-do.



mark america


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