Talking Is Dead Anthony Marco and Mike Vardy

Download CCC36_-_PCTO23.mp3 Posted for CNDOP 2023. Apologies to Candice for so long a wait for posting. I have no excuse. Trust me. It's not a long con.

Download Canned_Con_Cast_35.mp3 We're back for CNDOP22 with a recording from this past summer's MMPR!

Download TiD51_-_Shit_Became_Real_for_Me_When_Santa_Died.mp3 A conversation about music, artistic process, and punching directions with Sean McGaughey!

Download CCC34_-_Northern_AM_Gold.mp3 On this infrequent episode... Candice goes all 70s with Barbra Amesbury's pop-laced Virginia (Touch Me Like You Do). Anthony decides to follow suit from the same era with the Canadian west-coast soul-tinged Wildflower by Skylark.

Download Gollamalloo.mp3 I've used the word "gollamalloo" as a user name for emails and online handles for years now. This song is where that word comes from. The song is basically an amalgam of weird and wacky events that occurred during parties I'd been to when I was younger. There are many nonsense words in here denoting the incomprehensible rambling of many of my fellows who were under the influence, or, in some cases, me being under the influence and perhaps ascribing such meaninglessness to what may have been cogent utterances. Gollamalloo! the intoxicant was passed effervescent to the last dropped a notch or two along the evolutionary scale wormwood stole my cerebellum hid it in a shell and stopped the outbound Reason setting sail heart palpitating 13/8 as broadloom undertook a state of liquefied marshmallow soup a hearty shade of pink I quickly cried “Gollamalloo!” and paddled in vain with my shoe but directionless I tired and promptly came the sink Randy took a hard-boiled egg and held it to his nose said “I’m the king of all the earth” and smeared it on his clothes Donna took out her left breast and cupped it with a Jell-O mold while Dave howled Tarzan calls and beat his chest cryonic in its state the heavy albatross Grape Ape hangs in heat transference peeling from the fabric on my chest I hit the archetypal ground when there barked a blaring sound and ingenue turned seismic goo encompassing the rest crass opulence thought Eye covered the earth in plastic guise to preserve it for the future wailing wake of dense Ragu intelligence in this loose form uncovered “whence you are forewarned” embroidered on a pillowcase across the sofa blue Suzie took her lipstick out wrote epithets on Bill collapsed after the airplane spins had made him rather ill Rick mooned the room and tripped up on his jeans into the rug Cin sat glass-eyed drooling playing with the plug zen tropi magoo snore de yem farg cola ma sigh fyris enterb cheka terwank semina whomina snarf gladiola moon time to cut the grass too soon incandescent tune overwrought the 4th of June sucked into the great monsoon… prostrate porcelain penitence performed the unformed recitence rejected fusili non grata adopt cheerio packs calm countenance found my embrace entwined to cool my face and forced remission from the aftershock attack Karen stood up quietly said “Anth, I think I’m dying" dropped to her knees and crying said “goodbye" her face went pale and she collapsed in the middle of the room Eye petrified, she smiled, jumped up shouting "Gollamalloo!" zen tropi magoo snore de yem farg cola ma sigh fyris enterb cheka terwank semina whomina snarf

Download 51_Pick_Up.mp3 A song about aliens and secret military bases... yep, that's about it for this one. Oh... includes a Quincy reference! 51 Pick Up Acres upon acres of the arid desert land. The dryer of the driest may tag Ken more than the sand. The buzzard’s barbs so overhead it cawed its mortal caw. The rattlesnake crept from the rock to see what he had saw. That ball of fire burning unheeded by the clouds. The wind whipped up the silence and banged the drums aloud. My trail of disappearing steps approached me ever nearer And through a sheet of burning grains the painted sign was clearer. Come on in, roll on up to Area 51. A place of wonder. Full of sci-fi fun. The chariots of the gods on funky helicopter pads. A subsidized Shambala in the sun. Checked my bandana at the gate and took a sticky name tag. “Hello, my name is Alejandro du Magee", And my magic carpet gave it all searching for Brigadoon. I should’ve made that left at Albuquerque. Come on in, roll on up to Area 51. A place of wonder.  Full of sci-fi fun. Where Quincy cuts Venusian corpse on tape for pay TV. A subsidized Shambala in the sun. I took a walk down through the Time Tunnel and the sparks flew ‘round my head. I had a holodeck fantasy and I left her a little dead. Danger! Danger! will rob insomniacs of restful sleep, ‘Cause while I thought the earth stood still it was shuffling its feet. 10 000 feet below   the pod began to glow and made a humming sound and seismatized the ground I can see without an eye. Space is deep is black is creeping. Faces keep his lack of sleep erased. Can soma get him home? Get him out of my head!