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There is a machine, and that is American culture and its Imperialism... it answers to Satan.
"But for the present age, which prefers the sign to the thing signified, the copy to the original, representation to reality, appearance to essence . . . truth is considered profane, and only illusion is sacred. Sacredness is in fact held to be enhanced in proportion as truth decreases and illusion increases, so that the highest degree of illusion comes to be the highest degree of sacredness." ~ Ludwig Andreas von Feuerbach
"I'm talking about something that's so impossible, it can't possibly be true. But it's the only way the world's gonna survive this impossible thing. My job is to change five billion people to something else. Totally impossible. But everything that's possible's been done by man, and I have to deal with the impossible.... And when I deal with the Impossible and I am successful, it makes me feel good because I know that I'm not bullshittin'." ~ Sun Ra
"America is the only country that went from barbarism to decadence without civilization in between." ~ Oscar Wilde
"Human beings will be happier - not when they cure cancer or get to Mars or eliminate racial prejudice or flush Lake Erie but when they find ways to inhabit primitive communities again. That's my utopia." ~ Kurt Vonnegut
"Madness is rare in individuals - but in groups, parties, nations, and ages it is the rule." ~ Friedrich Nietzsche
Feel free to give Satan a phonecall. Leave a message and we might use your words in a production: 413.437.0808
Biographies of the cast of characters that call themselves "Satan's Answering Machine":
Saint Stephen ( St. St. ) - He is a language he thinks he speaks, naked in the atrium of a spider’s heart. He is anticipatory---a zygote from a small god stoppered in an expensive glass bottle at the top of a towering shelf. He has the crooked throat of a key, & exhales the dream of kites. He is a verb without tense; grace determined by wind; a tooth that has snapped off. He is no longer familiar, but not yet imaginary. His breath: torch heavy, his thoughts, the cold flow of concrete. He is indeed a monster made entirely of eyelash; a penny that doesn’t know what it wants to be when it grows up. Ashamed of a Tupperware heart, St. St. is ready to lie awap in a meeting with ayahuasca to (en)fibrillate any kind of creative expression to use it as a weapon against Satan and the black cancerous soul that is hesitation & cliche, expectation & dissimulation, routine & saccharine perfunctory humans. Instrumentation - poetry; any bass guitar; heavy objects to bang/throw; microphone; mask; electric trimmer.
Experimental Human - Visionary and futurist. Born in 1948 in the small town of Southington, CT I always felt I didn't belong. Didn't belong to my family, my neighborhood or my school. I floated in and out of concieousmess untill I found I had talents in the arts. Portraits of famous people for school and country scenes for my self. When I was 16 I went to Camp Hazen in Chester CT as a junior counselor. I met Nick Krochina my first art mentor. I realized I was alive when I heard the goats hooves clattering above my head. They had woken my from a 1000 year sleep. Wiping away the cobwebs from my face and body, I was wracked by a jolting hallucination. Was my mother a spider? This remains to be seen or understood. I do like to wrap my victims in a tight head to toe covering. I was again 10 years old in this new life that I realized. I was hanging upside down all these years. It took me another five years to have my claws touch the floor. The next five years of being unstable but I finally managed to learn how to crawl. I was always afraid of light so I never ventured outside in the day. My only food was mushrooms and I ate them veraciously. It took the next ten years to understand my craving was for blood. I am still trying to figure out what this all means. Instrumentation - poetry, tuba, trumpet, trombone, bass, guitar, keyboards, harmonium, banjo, sitar, percussion, midi sax, midi drums, yodeling and pretty much any instrument I can get my hands on.
Lord Bobbio - The spiritual offspring of Filius Bonacci and Jimi Hendrix's guitar which burned at Monterrey, knicknamed "Esmeralda". I was born making weird noises, and haven't stopped since. Actively wishing that the world would wake-up to the fact that it's freakin' 2010, and time to drop all the bullshit, he does very little to help the situation himself and instead prefers to wallow in his own misery. At least as of late. Instrumentation - guitars, toys, circuit bent appliances and occasionally percussion.
Pronoblem Baalberith - Pronoblem was truly born from the seed of a dragon and nurtured in the womb of damnation. Entering this world in New Orleans via premature birth after his mother fell victim to an alligator attack; Pronoblem found troubles in his early life which could easily be considered a lost childhood. His mother, a retired trapeze artist finding work as a brothel manager was addicted to opium after the attack that took her right leg, a leg which was replaced with the most elaborate peg leg ever seen. It was a scrimshaw and jewel encrusted elephant tusk fashioned in the shape of a ship's figurehead carving of a mermaid. Pronoblem's father was a tortured Korean War vet exposed to the chemical weapon BZ then turned crooked cop. Role models and nurture were not part of Pronoblem's formative process. As long as Pronoblem can remember he has been tortured by out of body experiences and visions of monsters that he believes are repeated attempts at demonic possession. At age 6 his father died - murdered in a hit while collecting protection graft for the mob - it was later revealed that he was negotiating with the DA to be a key witness in a murder case in order to avoid his own prosecution for conspiracy. While having a roof over his head at the brothel Pronoblem was forced to quit school and find work to pay for his own needs while his mother spent most of her days in an opiate stupor. Pronoblem eventually found decent work selling doughnuts from a cart at the pier. It was here where his love for music began and it was here that he made his only real friend - a hepatitis afflicted tobacco stained and tuxedo wearing hobo named Will. Will played fiddle for pocket change at that corner and it was there he taught Pronoblem how to play violin. He also bought Pronoblem his very first handgun and his first bottle of bourbon. For five years the two occupied the same street corner. It was obvious that Will was living on borrowed time. The shopping cart that Will pushed his Earthly possessions in served more as a crutch to carry his ballooning gut as his liver grew and became heavier and harder each day. It was after a YMCA Thanksgiving Dinner that Will asked Pronoblem to perform last rights. There was no argument as it was obvious that the time had come. Pronoblem, at 14 years old, euthanized his only friend with a bullet in the brain and then buried him in the clay of a riverbank. The next morning while returning home from the burial Pronoblem witnessed his screaming mother being loaded into an ambulance. First expecting the usual, that she once again called 9-1-1 in one of her drug induced rages, Pronoblem was about to walk away from the scene but then he began chasing after the ambulance as it soon became clear that it was much worse than he expected - the EMTs were wearing clown makeup! The story goes that while his mother's old circus was in town she visited her "friends". In a deck stacked poker game she bet everything she owned on quads and lost to a flushed wheel. The circus came the next day to collect on the debt, she would not relinquish. So the clowns took her away peg leg and all. Pronoblem chased that ambulance on foot and screamed to no avail as it drove off out of sight. Realizing this was the end of the road for him in this city he returned back to the brothel where he settled some debts, said his goodbyes then headed west to Los Angeles with nothing but the clothes on his back, a case containing Will's violin and a revolver tucked under his belt. It was only a few weeks of busking and sleeping in the subways that Pronoblem realized he was in another dead end. Enamored by the possibility to travel the world, with fake documents and lying about his age he joined the Navy. This was a stint that lasted only slightly longer than the subway experience. Faking his insanity Pronoblem was discharged in six months due to his erretic behavior and ultimately the administration's discovery that he was in fact only fifteen years old. Using his New Orleans street wisdom, newfound health and buff appearance he decided to infiltrate the bourgeoisie world of the Hollywood elite. Pronoblem auditioned for a chamber quartet and soon found himself playing at the most exclusive of restauarants and elite socialite celebrity parties. Now living very high on the hog Pronoblem bought into this culture... he bought himself a 400 year old violin built in Cremona, Armani suits, a 1963 Corvette, the Harley Davidson driven by Peter Fonda in Easy Rider and he ate out every meal and bought gold, jewels and mountains of cocaine for the women he chased... but his membership in this club was ulimately never recognized. While performing at a private party he was approached by James Cameron with an offer of a minor role in a film, possibly the greatest film ever made, to be called 'The Titanic'... led into a private room with one of Cameron's agents to discuss the plans, pay an him advance and sign a contract Pronoblem was fed a powerful roofie martini. Awaking many days later Pronoblem found himself in the worst of situations yet. Chained to a wall in James Cameron's basement. Here he spent two years... his body sold to the entertainment, business and government elite. His hair, nails and tissue were trimmed, his blood and effluence collected all to be used in some dark esoteric Babalonian homunculi creation ceremony to summon the goddess Tiamat for the purposes of bringing about End Times and a despotic rule by the summoner and grand architect of the scheme, Oprah Winfrey. At age 18 he was broken. Too old for this project and his paid "suitors" his only options were death or new bondage in a lesser quality market. Through a modern version of the underground railroad for the sex slave trade in Hollywood and Washington DC Pronoblem's freedom was purchased by a kind gentleman and retired attourney in Lenox Massachusetts named Enoch Cohen. Enoch was a mystic educated in the Hermetic Qabalah as well as a master in several Eastern martial arts. He taught Pronoblem in these ways. He also helped fight the lawsuit that eventually ended in an undisclosed out of court settlement against James Cameron, Oprah Winfrey, Bill Clinton, George Herbert Walker Bush, Matt Damon, Allen Greenspan, David Letterman, Robert Plant, Bill Cosby and George Lucas as a result of the ongoings at Cameron's twisted mansion. Pronoblem, now with wealth beyond his wildest dreams finishes school to enter a Jesuit seminary program. Giving up all of his wealth and finally exploring the world as he always wanted to he did so as a missionary in the Amazon jungle. Here is where our story really begins. In an interfaith gathering Pronoblem met a shaman named Don Yayauhqui who convinced him to partake in Ayahuasca. Pronoblem did so and claims he travelled to the center of the Universe and to the beginning of time. He met God and She was pissed at him. She commanded him. He was given a mission to return to the USA. He was to use music as a weapon to fight against Satan and the black cancerous soul that is American culture. He now uses Satan's Answering Machine as one of his sonic pulpits. Instrumentation - sax, clarinet, Fluxboard, bass, synthesizer, Thundercane, pads, chains, bells, Hellhorn, sampler, anvil, short wave radio, metal detector, manhole cover, theremin, effects, various ciruit bent appliances and homemade instruments + effects.