Bush Fans and the Flaming Lips

Jesus.

NicePeter.com has been down for a few days.
Why? I don't know, something, or someone,
or somecomputer, fucked up at my webshosting company.

I was on hold for at least a total of 3 hours yesterday.
I had no email, no website,
it sucked, but I still couldn't
find it in me to really complain.

I had food, and a few beers,
and a roof, and central air conditioning.

I got the website back up and running today,
there will be a few quirks to iron out.

Now for the news.

Our second show in Springfield was cancelled last week.
I was very distraught, as I told the crowd at a show in Chicago.

There was someone giving away tickets to a music festival called
Hedgpeth,
and when they heard the story of my cancelled gig, they gave the
tickets to me.

sweet.

Two free tickets to camp and see the Flaming Lips, They Might be Giants,
our new friends Bottle of Justus, and Hello Dave.

although I missed Hello Dave because I was too zonked out on drugs.

We arrived Friday afternoon, set up our tent,
and got ready for a night of music.

This festival was not crowded.

It was barely even comfortably full,
it was sparce, it was beautiful.

We saw the Flaming Lips,
but not before we saw the show-
stealer of the entire festival,
a man named Rocco Deluca.

Holy shit.
I can't even explain it,
the drugs helped,
but you will like it even now,
www.roccodeluca.com

The Flaming Lips,
I don't know if you've ever seen them,
but they put on an unbelievable show.

Literally, I sat there thinking,
"I can't believe this is happening..."

There were balloons, and aliens, and streamers,
and Wayne Coyne was beautiful and charming.

He had a camera mounted to his microphone stand,
so between songs, his face would appear huge on
a screen behind the stage, and we all watched him talk,
it was incredible.

I got a lot of ideas,
philosophical, mostly.
The Flaming Lips put a great
deal of effort into making a great show.

That's something I aspire to.
I want to put on a great show,
I want some fucking aliens,
and a camera on my microphone,
that's a dream.

Now,
in closing,
I must tell you about the Bush Fan in Springfield.

There are Bush Fans everywhere,
some of them even like Nice Peter shows,
which baffles me, but, whatever.

Your political views are not my business.
My political views are my business,
and if you are at a Nice Peter show,
I will probably make sure they are your business too.

I enjoy getting a crowd riled up about Bush,
because we should get riled
up as a crowd more often.

If you are sitting in the audience,
and you are having a good time,
and then my songs about Bush come out,
and they bother you... good.
I want them to bother you.

You should be bothered,
you should feel uncomfortable,
and you should feel the anger
and frustration of the people
sitting around you cheering me on.

That is an important feeling,
that anger, because I don't think you have it.
If you are a Bush Fan, you must be lacking
some central nerve that tells you to be upset
with our country, with our leaders, and what
they are doing to our world.

If you are not angry at Bush,
then I want you to witness the anger
of your friends and neighbors,
and I want you to think about it,
and maybe, just maybe,
you'll be surprised enough
to question some things yourself.

But,
that is all.

I just want you to think a little bit.
I don't want you to come up,
scratch out all the names and emails
on my email list so I can't read them,
and sign, "Bush Fan - Fuck You!!!"

You ignorant motherfucker.

Springfield, I swear to god,
you have got some wonderful people,
but with the t-shirt stealer, and now
the "Bush Fan - Fuck You!!!" guy,
I might, just might, have to start dedicating
White Trash Woman to Springfield, IL.

-p