Those Manson eyes can be focused on
everybody
if only you weren't so drowsy.

In England slash Europe, the people watch Satellite Tv,
In the US it is by cable.
Helicopters are ambulating in horror, airwolf.

What have you done to yourself for Halloween?

Day of the dead, I exclaimed at last.
Can't come to your party being in Belfast.
But I am cutting my brain, slowly.

Search for the neuron, love.

This is a response to a forum post questioning the merits of self publishing. It was a good question, so I decided to try to tackle it. The original may be found here:
http://www.purplewildebeest.co.za/forum/viewtopic.php?showtopic=1261

-------
Self Publication:

If you post a poem on poetry.com, the bitch will keep nagging you to pay a small fee, for whose sum you can be published in their next 'compendium' of poems, establishing yourself as a 'published poet'.

Currency is a cheap notion. Ron Paul wants to make it based on gold, but that is probably because he is secretly a freemason and an alchemist. I mean, they are making diamonds these days, after all. Who is to say gold won't be next -- then where will your gold-based economy go? And don't tell me that gold is an 'element', Watson.

Translating these concepts, the gaslight world of 'writing publishers' also just operates on a type of currency. You make an investment by spending time and effort to research 'How to get published'. Once enough cache is gathered, you start to spend and see what the outcome may be.

For bottom feeders, yes, there is a fear of being published. It is like any other economy. You will find these pasty, weaseling little scroungers, holding their purses or wallets ever so tightly, fearfully dropping one coin (poem or writ) into the Publisher hat, and ... cringing. Hoping that this will 'be the one'. Even though it is the first.

Smile Big boys and girls, however, know the nature of the game from the start. Mark Twain understood it due to some time spent arranging letters on a press at a local newspaper, as a child. So for these prescients, the publishing world becomes kind of just like the stock market.  read more »

Meg Hutchinson’s new CD of original songs confirms that she is one of the great voices of the next generation of acoustic musicians. Come Up Full is a lyrically rich record about encountering good things when you least expect them. Amidst war, loss and heartbreak, Hutchinson’s songs hold the promise of love, hope and homecomings.
--------------------
Martina

www.alcohol-rehab.cn

Is Meg still touring and recording?

And Meg... if you read this, I have some video you might like to disseminate to your fans, assuming you're running the Megly Fan Club!

Drop me an e-mail if you're interested.

Brent in L.A.

Before anybody wonders, my screen name is a reference to Seamus Heaney's poem "Whatever you say say nothing"--last stanza discussing meaning of life.

Meg, I wanted to give credit where it's due. I use your song "Nutopia" in my Intro to Phil class to get students thinking about certain issues--some get it, some don't--but it's another tool in the arsenal. "oh, he lives, but without thinking" goes the old Latin saying.

In particular, your lyrics "alive to the universe, dead to the world" lead to the best conversations. Did you mean it to be a metaphysical critique? Like space travel, we humans seem to love avoiding the here and now--the reality of the suffering we have about us and inside us--and the desire to flee. We don't even regard the reality of our death as necessity, but as some way station to something else. Like Krishnamurti wrote, when we delude ourselves with the illusion of continuity we destroy our creative potential. Some great stuff, Meg.

The thread of human hope is woven with the flax of sorrow.

When I was 18 I had a car and a job.

Why did I have a job?
To pay for my car.

Why did need a car?
To get to my job.

One day, I awoke from the spell and had a revelation that would change my life. I saw that I was trapped in a vicious cycle. So I sold my car and got a moped. I asked my boss to cut my hours down and spent my extra time at the beach singing. This has been pretty much my attitude to life ever since and I've never looked back. When it comes to a choice between freedom to choose what I do with my time versus the aquisition of goods, I choose freedom every time. Recently someone told me about this site which pretty much sums up that revelation.

http://www.storyofstuff.com

To this day I keep as few material possesions as I can. Everything I own gets vigorously used. Anything which isn't used is sold. I buy pretty much everything 2nd hand and when I do buy something new, I will pay a bit extra to get the best quality, most durable thing I can find.

I'm pretty happy with this lifestyle. It has afforded me the ability to be time rich. So many people are time impoverished. It's a shame, because advertising and mass media has brainwashed them into believing that consumption is more important than freedom.

Surrounding yourself with a bunch of throwaway useless stuff is one of the most tragic deceptions of modern life. The thing that is most precious in life is TIME. My goal is to be a time-lionaire.

Consume and Die!

Isn't that the point of it all?

I must I must I must increase my bust!

This track was recorded as a one day live studio session around 1991-2. During this session we recorded around 6 tracks. Each track only took 1 or 2 takes. Half of the lyrics weren't written, so had to be more or less improvised on the spot. The songs were only very loosely arranged. The song features:

ex-Lunachicks drummer Becky Wreck on drums
Sophie Stievet played bass
Noriko on guitar
Meg Lee Chin (me) on vox
Julian Standen was the engineer/producer

Sophie and I paid for Becky's plane ticket to come out to London to play with us on a big UK TV show, I think it was called "The Tube", but I don't remember. At any rate, it got canceled at the last minute so never really happened anyway.

Anyhow, Sophie was working in a greasy cafe for cab drivers and I was working as a barmaid in a pub. In England this means you get less than minimum wage and NO tips! So the plane tickets were a big deal for us.

My dear old friend from San Francisco had just left the Lunachicks and I jumped at the opportunity to have her play with us. (Becky Wreck and Martin Atkins are my two favorite drummers that I have ever had the pleasure to play with. I am grateful for having ever played with either of them!). Our guitarist Stephanie Pitsas had just ditched us and on top of that, we got dumped from our production deal with Beethoven Street Studios. This was all after the big high of having come back from the former Soviet Union. So we were pretty low down in the deep dumpity dumps...

Becky arrived at Heathrow Airport with the normal level of chaos, unpredictability and frantic exhuberance she brings to everything. When we got on the tube, she announced in her loud American voice , her pleasure at having got through customs with her drugs...

Sophie and I braced ourselves for a long ride....

To be continued.

Meg Lee Chin

Run from life's low lows and you'll miss all the high highs!

Here are trax featuring some of my poet mates over at http://poetryslag.com

Single from the upcoming album.

Nothing deep or meaningful about this song. Just me pissed off and disappointed by yet another failed relationship. (Yawn...)  read more »

Single from the upcoming album.

This song is about the kinky S&M relationships between our great world leaders.

Here's a single from the upcoming album.

Venus is a bag lady. She wears a soiled and stained sheet. She is the Goddess of Love reduced to a beggar.  read more »

This is the pre-Atkins/Invisible records demo for "Swallowing You". When I first heard Atkins version, I was nearly in tears. He had brought up the middle 8 bit where I said:

"I watched the sun come up over the tower blocks and cried for what could have been. Is it real or is it just an illusion?".  read more »

Shove it in
Shove it out
Shove it round
Me old sausage

My world is a cruel world
My life is a mystery
My world is a cruel, cruel wicked place

Ok, so you see me
That's right
I'm alright
I'm alright
Anyway
Anyway

Down on me
Here with me
Scream to me
Talk to me
Tragedy
Shut your fucking mouth
Wicked Dyke

You say u don't know me
I know that's a lie
But its alright  read more »

She's Leaving
She's moving faster than a comet can fly away
And wondering, where the hell am I going to land?
The motion... the streets are crackling with a fire tonight
Slow motion... the neon screaming on an endless night

And maybe you, you're in the middle
And maybe
You're in between
And maybe
You feel the pressure
Silencing you

You fake it  read more »

I am wondering why I cannot post personals when I am logged in, like where I am from, occupation, etc. when I click on the "personals" link, everything below is blank, there are no boxes.