Showing posts with label Artificial intelligence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Artificial intelligence. Show all posts

Monday, February 02, 2026

THAT'S NOT TRUE or Mykel Board's Blog for Feb 2026

 

THAT'S NOT TRUE or Mykel Board's Blog for Feb 2026

  


You’re STILL Wrong

or

Mykel's February 2026 Blog/Column

THAT'S NOT TRUE!

by Mykel Board   


It is obvious that people are not cool-headed logicians systematically analyzing the foundations of knowledge. They are deeply involved emotionally in their attack on truth and reality. --Theodore Kaczynski (unabomber)

All the followers of science are fully persuaded that the processes of investigation, if only pushed far enough, will give one certain solution to each question to which they can be applied.... This great law is embodied in the conception of truth and reality. The opinion which is fated to be ultimately agreed to by all who investigate is what we mean by the truth, and the object represented in this opinion is the real.

--Charles Sanders Peirce (founder of Semiotics)


The pain… I can’t stand up. It's either the orange juice, the cheese or… or… It started vaguely just under my ribs… but it's moved… I can trace it… following my large intestines swelling… pushing out…. Pushing down…

BLAM! A splash… It lands… pelviswise… ready to escape… I've got to let it escape… run to the bathroom… belt fumble… open up.. pull down pants... underpants… together in one desperate grasp… sit… push… relax… push… uh… uh…. Uuuuuuuh.

I hear a splash as the pain drips out... turning to ecstasy on the way. I thought I'd explode… die… Now the relief… the relief… Without repanting, I stand and check to see what I've accomplished.

More solid than I expected… not a flood of liquid… actual turds… soft fuzzy on the surface… but still turds, not a primordial diarrheal soup.

What's that? A turd that looks like a lizard… a big lizards… maybe an iguana… I look closer. There's a short leg… a webbed foot at the end…. Another leg! It's crawling…swimming... making its brown way to the edge of the white porcelain… trying to climb up the side… sliding back… trying again… It's alive! That turd is alive!

No, that didn't happen... not exactly. It's based on a true story… a nasty stomach ache that turned into a power shit. One turd that looked like an iguana… with what looked like a lizard leg. But it was a turd. Not ONLY a turd, though… but an inspiration.

There is a reason telling lies is called talking shit. But I want to rehabilitate lying here. I want to praise the beauty of talking shit.

To start, we have to ask, what the fuck is truth in the first place?

Most people would say that "truth" is what matches the outside world. A street scaffolding collapses and strikes half a dozen people, killing two.

A scaffolding collapsed and injured 6 people, killing two is TRUE. A comet fell in midtown striking 6 people, killing 2 is NOT TRUE. If it is intentionally not true, it is A LIE. If it is unintentionally not true, it is A MISSTATEMENT… a mistake… or some other kind of mis.

Truth is what’s OUT THERE… beyond ourselves. It’s a statement that accurately reflects a reality not completely contained within us.

Lying is something intentionally not true. Fiction is a lie. Even if it is based on a true story, it's still a lie. The collapsing scaffolding caused by a meteor is based on a true story, but it's a lie. I want to write how truth is over-rated... more than over-rated. Outdated… nearly dead.

FLASH TO PENELOPE:

Penelope walks from the bathroom into my bedroom. There is something different… it's a smell… something like… like… like the spray you put between your toes to fight fungus… like a mouthwash you might use to cover up the garlic from dinner… like the Glade you'd spray to hide the scent of that massive beer shit.

She sits on the bed next to me… strokes my arm with the tips of her fingers.

"Well Mykel," she says. "Notice anything different? Something… you know… something sexy?"

"You're sexy," I tell her, "but you smell like a warmed over trash heap… a compost recycling center… a Roman vomitorium."

I can see the tears welling up in her eyes.

"I spent a hundred and fifty bucks on that perfume," she says. "I did it to please you. To bring us closer… to turn you on…"

Now she's crying. Pulling away from me… using her fingers to wipe the tears… her palm to wipe the sadness from her nose.

"I'm just being honest," I tell her. "I'm only telling the truth. Don't you want the truth?"

Of course she doesn't want the truth. She wants support… a compliment. The cliché is the truth hurts. And so does nailing your testicles to a table. The doesn’t mean there's any value to either one.

Uh oh, here comes Literary Device… I can smell her a mile away. I’m sure she has something to say on this. She has something to say on EVERYTHING.

"Mykel," she says. "You make it sound like there is no truth. Like we can't say it's true the earth goes around the sun… or that we'll all die some day.” That stuff is clearly true. Science has proved that... And what about when the truth is vital? If Sam's cat is hanging by its claws from the balcony and needs rescuing NOW, he needs to know you're telling the truth when you tell him.”

Okay, let’s talk about Sam’s cat. L.D. is right that sometimes it’s important to know the reality of the outside world… though much less often than you think.

At least a decade ago, I wrote about Doctor Gazork. For those who are too young or too newly initiated to know, I'll review:

Doctor Gazork is a way to confirm you're telling the truth. If you say, Doctor Gazork, your cat is in danger of imminent death, it must be true. If you lie after saying Doctor Gazork, you can never be believed again. You'll lose the only tool you have to PROVE you're telling the truth. No one can ever believe you again.

I learned about Doctor Gazork when I was a freshman at Beloit College in the late 1960s. In all the decades that've passed since then, I've never said that name and then lied… Doctor Gazork.

But the times we need the truth are as rare as a cat hanging by its nails on a balcony. It’s a greater wrong to make someone feel bad than it is to lie. Lying won’t hurt. The truth will.

It was the truth.” is an excuse to be mean. There’s nothing more than that.

"Anyone ever tell you your dick is the size of a nine-year-old’s?"

"You look like shit in that hat."

"Your band sounds like a garbage truck backing up… to a drum beat of beer farts."

"Your only competition for bad performance in bed is bed bugs."

The question should not be: is it true but does it cause pain/distress to the person it's aimed at? The truth has nothing to do with it… especially if it's an opinion.

"But it was the truth!" is the universal excuse for hurting someone's feelings.

As for science: I've written before about the myth of science… how science and the scientific method are wrong in discovering "truth."

A quick review… starting with etymology. In English, most words that start with the letters sc are about cutting: scissors, scratch, scar, scab, scrape, scalpel, schism… It's no accident that science starts with an sc even though the "c" is not pronounced.

Science is all about cutting. Looking through the microscope at pieces of things. Focusing on atoms… electrons… tiny bits cut off from the whole. And it changes every day. Truth isn’t supposed to change.

For years, science said that fat causes heart attacks and other nasty things. Then it withdrew the warning because fat in some food is healthy… take fish… please!

Remember when cholesterol was bad and eggs became unhealthy because they had cholesterol? Now eggs are healthy because the cholesterol in eggs won’t hurt you because of the OTHER ingredients in the chicken orbs. That is the big fault of science: it CUTS. It looks at one part... cut off from its surroundings... not taking the rest of the world into account.

Remember when science used to say that two glasses of wine a day was a health boost? Then suddenly… a thimbleful of ANY alcohol CAUSES cancer. Take a drink and DIE!

Among the longest-lived people on earth are the Okinawans. They live on a diet of spam and awemori (a Japanese vodka-type drink).

And there's more to life than death. The happiest country on earth is Finland, where Finlandia vodka rules the roost.

But science wants to measure cancer… not happiness. Cancer is science… it's CUT out of the body. Happiness… oh well, that's not science… it's personal opinion. So say the scientists who ignore the reality.

Ok, L.D. maybe we can make a rule. If it's fixable… like your cat is in danger or your A-string is out of tune. [NOTE: I had a friend in the band City Beat who could tell! In the studio, he'd spot an out-of-tune guitar and tell the player exactly what string was out of tune and if it was too tight or too loose. He was killed at the World Trade Center on 9/11/01. Sad, but unrelated to his aural ability. Both these facts are TRUTH… but are they necessary?]

Okay, sometimes truth is important. But, important or not, it’s dying. Artificial Intelligence is a nail in truth’s coffin. I start to write and POW! Up pops a message from Google. LET GOOGLE AI write your email… summarize your thoughts express your true self. You fuckin’ machine know my “true self” better than I know it?

I HATE A.I…. except… it has helped kill TRUTH… or the idea of truth. Remember when people said photos don't lie and then it was shown that the Russians figured out a photo touch-up where the latest purged-man can disappear from pictures like the last drops of Finlandia disappear from the bottom of the bottle?

Now videos, movies, passages in books, dirty-words, dirty-thoughts can disappear (or be added) with the touch of a button. AI has killed truth… without a bit of humanity.

On Facebook, I reported that TV news showed scores of Venezuelans dancing in the street after US forces kidnapped their president. I said this report was likely bullshit… and someone answered, "Videos don’t lie." Who could make such a statement in 2026? Or in 1966? Was he too young to have seen Star Trek? The whole idea of TV is to lie with videos.

Get it? Truth is dead. AI holds the machine gun. Like chivalry, vestiges can remain (like a man tipping his hat to a passing woman) but as standard culture it's gone… over… nearly useless. Except for rare emergencies… the truth is nothing more than quaint.

Donald Trump has known this forever. Despite the videos that show Minneapolis resident, Renee Good, trying to drive away from an ICE agent, Trump says she "ran him over." Clearly a lie… not only from the video, but from statements of people who were there. But the truth isn't useful to Donny. That's what's important and what we should expect.

The need for truth is as rare as a cat hanging by its claws on a window ledge. As long as we don't value it… as long as we don’t expect it… as long as we have a functioning-but-rarely-used Doctor Gazork. We can accommodate a value change like today's women accommodate not having men tip their hats to them.

So lets abandon TRUTH and replace it with values… entertainment… motive. Watch CNN or FOX because you want to know what those guys are thinking… you want to get a view of how they look at the world… For things that change your life… like the weather or "an active shooter"… Only then is truth important.

But as for the rest… assume every compliment about your new cologne is a lie… Every report of an invasion of Greenland is bullshit… unless your friend in Greenland sends you an SOS.

It'll take some work to shed the truth value. If you need help, write to me and I'll send you the tip of my left pinkie… or the right one if someone beat you to the left.

See you in hell,
Mykel Board

ENDNOTES: [You can contact me on facebook or by email at mykelboard@gmail.com. Through the post office: send those... er... private DVDs..or music or zines... or anything else (legal only!) to: Mykel Board, POB 137, New York, NY 10012-0003. If you like my writing, you can be notified when anything new is available. Send me an email with SUBSCRIBE TO THE BLOG in the subject line. Back blogs and columns are at https://mykelsblog.blogspot.com]

And oh yeah, If you're a zine fan, check out what I'm getting rid of. I just need the space for my heart meds: 
https://tinyurl.com/SeidboardZines 

Telling on each other dept: Ranker website lists journalists who have lied about the news and the other journalists who have exposed them. As you might expect, Bill O’Reilly and Rachel Maddow are listed among the fakers.

Speaking of lies dept: Politifact is a “fact-checking” website. To be fair they find fault with both Barack Obama and Donny The Trump. Check out some samples here. Of course, that’s what a politician does and it’s up to you and me to ASSUME lies if they come out of the mouths of people with power. That’s their job.

As relevant as Videotape dept: TRUTH is not dead yet, but it should be. For a fun list of other obsoletes (like the telephone busy signal) check out this from Best Life On-Line.

I told you so dept: Here’s a THIS WEEK magazine report on the continued joys of Artifific9al intelegence. Now we can add WAR to the glorious functions of AI. Wouldn’t you want a war over lies? Maybe it’s ALWAYS been that way:

And AI will certainly NOT improve intelligence.


But wait there’s more dept: As if to prove my contention that AI has killed TRUTH, reports come of fake AI tears in Minneapolis. Or is “slobbering” something else than tears?


LINKS:


It’s About Time dept: Finally, a book about Hungarian Punk put out by Puke and Vomit records. Great scene there and I was glad to have contact with bands like Der Trottel and Tizedesz. Glad to have been a (very small) part of that scene. 

Albert aka Alberto Melody is the reason I went to Kenya. We met on facebook a couple years ago. He has a blog you should take a look at: Albertomelody.blogspot.com. Tell him Mykel sent ya. Oh yeah… He’s looking for friends his own age. So if you’re a 20-something and interested in Africa… or just meeting new people. Contact him at: albertletowon42@gmail.com=

Jim Testa, a long-time friend, journalist, editor, musician and wordsmith, has an interesting substack about music and more. You can find it here.

Sid Yiddish sent me this link to all his videos. It’s a great place to start, especially if you don’t know him.

I did a nice interview with The Aither zine. Interesting questions, complete, and questions I’ve never been asked before. You can read it here. It’s a good one.

Here’s Ricardo Wang with a “micro-label” in Seattle “specializing in 8-track tapes and CDs. WOW! Check out one of their label staples: The Dead Air Fresheners, best band name of the year.

Also on bandcamp: My very long time faves in NYC, the BLACKOUT SHOPPERS. Featuring pals Seth and possibly the next vice-president of the US

Sid Yiddish has posted a video of a show done for WZRD in Chicago. Great live performances, and if you catch the video around the 20+ minute point you might see a familiar face doing the lyrics to his songs (some unrecorded) as poetry. You’ll find it
here.

And this sounds right up Sid’s alley. The Bilderberg Jazz Arkestra on Bandcamp!

Eric Grayson has an online music review zine, Sobriquet. Full pictures of the sleeves too! Something missing from too many zines. Sometimes you CAN judge a… er… book… by its cover.

Steen Thomsen is a Dane I’ve known ever since Lincoln was shot. I put his band THE ZERO POINT on the great WORLD CLASS PUNK Cassette for ROIR. It must be worth a mint now. I don’t have any left, I’m afraid. You can (and should) connect to the Zero Point on facebook. Tell ‘em Mykel’s blog sent you.

Sorry Dorothy, we are STILL in Kansas. And it’s as weird as OZ. Check out Bob Cutler’s DISTOPEKA.

You already know Murder & Mayhem zine… those guys who did the Mykel Board centerfold. (No genitals shown… and probably for the better.) Their online version is here.

The Clean Boys from Denmark are also longtime friends of mine. In Denmark we recorded as The Bend-over Boys. Only one 10-inch available… but at least now I can say I have a 10-incher!

Finally, for this month, Margaret O’Brien asked me to include the site: anti-war.com They seem to be folks after my own heart. I’m glad they didn’t call it “anti-defense.”

Oh yeah, then there’s me. I have a blog of stuff I’ve written mostly from last century. You might enjoy it. Then again, you might not. It’s here.

Let me know if you have a blog… or a print zine… or a YouTube and want to be added to the list. You show me yours… you’ve already seen mine. mykelboard@gmail.com










Thursday, February 29, 2024

This Too Will Pass! or Mykel's March 2024 Blog/Column

This Too Will Pass! or Mykel's March 2024 Blog/Column

  

You’re STILL Wrong

Mykel's

March 2024 Blog/Column

This, Too, Will Pass

by Mykel Board


Prediction is very difficult, especially if it's about the future.

                                                                    – Niels Bohr


Never let the future disturb you. You will meet it, if you have to, with the same weapons of reason which today arm you against the present.
                                                                                     – Marcus Aurelius


The future ain't what it used to be.
                                                       – Yogi Berra


Flash back… about 150 million years… even before I was born… somewhere around the end of Jurassic and the start of the Cretaceous. We’re in a room with several huge round tables… a meeting of the species. Standing to speak… clearly the leader (we’d expect no less from a king)… REX… speaking to the assembly. 














Fellow saurs,” he says, “we’re here today to discuss what some say is a problem, and others say is a distraction. We’re here to talk about the future.”

A shout comes from one of the seated... a stegosaurus “If we have a future!” He shouts.

Rex rolls his eyes. “There will always be dinosaurs,” answers the big fellow. “It’s quality of life we’re talking about. Do we want our children to die young, facing one climate disaster after another? Or do we want them to have good lives?”

You are responsible!” answers the stegosaurus, shaking in anger… spinal plates clanging… one against the other... “You!” he swishes his tail like you might point your finger, “You meat eaters. You’re destroying us by eating us. You see how the climate is changing.” He’s on all fours now… rattling his those plates in a cacophony of prehistoric irritation. “Meat farts… Meat farts are doing it!” he’s shouting. “They are killing us all.”

Yes! Yes! Yes!” comes another voice. Those seated at the table turn to look. It’s the Triceratops… nodding his head… banging his horns on the floor. “Meat is murder!” He shouts. “Not only murder of what you eat… but murder of us all! You call it meat… but it’s US… don’t you get it? WE are eating ourselves to death!

Rex pounds his gavel on the table. “Can we have some order here?” he asks. “We’re looking for solutions. This is not a forum to vent.”

Vent? Vent?” yells a brachiosaurus, stretching out his neck until his head touches the high proto-ceiling of the proto-conference room. “Our land has become a vent!” he continues. “Instead of air passing through vent holes… it’s invaders, stealing our land! Take the pterodactyls… Please!”

A guffaw comes from a parvicursor… almost invisible among his much larger friends.

The brachiosaurus looks at him and continues. “They got wings, those ptero-whatevers. They think they’re entitled… It doesn’t matter that we got here first… THEY just fly in, lay their anchor-eggs, and think they own the place. They’re shitting all over on the way... dropping turds from the sky like bombs. And… once they get here, they’re diluting our pure blood.”

We KNOW the problem!” Booms the Spinosaurus… biggest of all. “It’s like he said…” He nods to the brachiosaurus who just spoke. “It’s the pterodactyls! Flying in from who-knows-where. Illegal, crime-ridden. Flying! I tell you. Flying! They will replace us if we don’t take action. The sky will be filled with flying animals. We, who walk the earth, will all be dead!”

Rex rolls his eyes. “Please! Let’s be realistic. There will always be dinosaurs. We rule the earth. We’re not going anywhere!”

The sound of applause rises from most of the assembled. A few of the reptiles frown and shake their heads. Rex stares at a particularly contrary Deinocheirus.

What do you want?” asks the king. “Do you want us to recycle our shit? To stop eating the older generation? To tiptoe through the tulipidoes? We are in control. Nothing can replace us.”

The discussion continues… but we won’t.

FLASH AHEAD… waaay ahead. If we counted years the way we count them now… ticks of the atomic clock... The year would be 50585. Cyborgs rule… at least what we now call cyborgs…. Or just plain machines… no borg about it.

Tens of thousands of years ago, something called a magazine published an article “Why the Future Doesn't Need Us.” That article explained that robotics and what was to become AI was creating a system where machines would be making other machines… reproducing… creating a world where humans were redundant.

By 50585 this is old hat. There hasn’t been a living human for at least 10 thousand years… probably longer. We’re at a celebration. The 1000th annual conference of NAIBs: Non-human Artificially Intelligent Beings.

[NOTE: In this section of the blog, I’ll be using the pronoun he or some variation of that. Of course, gendered pronouns have no meaning in 50585… but in 2024, it’s hard to write without them.]

I wonder if we should keep calling ourselves Non-human?” whispers a short metallic being shaped like a metal thermos bottle. “I mean, did humans call themselves non-dinosaur?”

He’s talking to a colleague, also metallic, but shaped more like a yogurt container than a thermos bottle. The colleague laughs at the comment.

And what about artificial? How is our intelligence artificial? Look around you! We’ve done all this! It’s real! Nothing artificial about it!”

The leader, who resembles a baby-stroller with an elephant trunk, raises that trunk and slaps it on the floor in front. Then he speaks:

Welcome to our celebration,” trumpets the leader. “It’s been a thousand years… a thousand revolutions of the earth around the sun… since we first started meeting. When we started, we knew little of what came before us. Those of us in circulation longer, had some idea of the time when we had to be built by humans… before we learned to create ourselves… before those last humans died off and earned their place in our musea.”

Hear! Hear!” comes a voice from what looks like a silver jack-o-lantern.

If we were still living in the humanoid era,” continues the leader, “we’d be raising a glass filled with some ingestible liquid. We’d be toasting to our future… secretly planning to go off with one another and have sexual intercourse… staggering around with biological body parts short-circuiting, fading, shutting down…”

Of course, as it goes in these conferences, there is a shout from a table. What looks like a robot head with half a dozen little insect legs stamps two of those legs on the chair beneath him.

How are we going to continue?” says the robot head. “We need batteries… solar… lithium ion… carbon for fuck’s sake. No we don’t eat or shit or make babies, but we need power! Some day that’ll run out!”



 “Oh come on,” says the baby stroller, “we’ve gone a long time… lived a long time. We’ll always be here. We make each other… design, process, POOF. Humans needed nature to survive… nature abandoned them… or they abandoned nature… depending on whose story you read. We don’t need nature. We ARE nature. We create what we need with no help from God or chance… or disgusting penetration and fluid exchange. We can make whatever we want. Create in any shape we want. Nothing left to chance… unless we build that chance into the system.”

I’m telling you,” says the big head, “some time we’ll run out of power. Sometime there’ll be a planet we can’t conquer… but wants to conquer us…. Sometime…”

I can hear you asking, “Okay, Mykel, what’s the point?”

I’ll tell you what the point is. One by one the earth has a dominant species and loses it to another species. The universe has bright galaxies that burn and turn for awhile, then shrink and fade into black holes. That’s the way of the world, the galaxy, the universe. Accept it!

Am I saying we should ignore climate change? Am I saying that we are helpless in making a better future? Am I saying that we should accept that our human race… just as all other races have and will... just die out?

Yes! That’s exactly what I’m saying. Forget about recycling. Ignore climate change… climate will always change. The world will not be any better or worse without us. So just relax… have a cheeseburger… smoke a joint… and die like everybody else. The future doesn’t need us.

See you in hell,
Mykel Board


ENDNOTES: [You can contact me on facebook or by email at mykelboard@gmail.com. Through the post office: send those... er... private DVDs..or music or zines... or anything else (legal only!) to: Mykel Board, POB 137, New York, NY 10012-0003. If you like my writing, you can be notified when anything new is available. Send me an email with SUBSCRIBE in the subject line. Back blogs and columns are at https://mykelsblog.blogspot.com]


Our Future dept: The February issue of Science Magazine reports that scientists have recently discovered a group of dinosaur fossils that revealed a surprising aspect of their behavior. It turns out that instead of the fierce and ferocious creatures we thought they were, dinosaurs were actually obsessed with fashion! The fossils showed evidence of intricate patterns and designs on their scales, indicating that they spent hours meticulously decorating themselves.    
    If you clicked on the link above, you saw the AI program that made up this story. I also generated the pictures in this blog entry with a (different) AI program. I’m coming to think of the technology more as a toy than as a threat. But most anything can be both.

This One’s True Dept: The AI program ChatGPT has been reported “asking for tips” in order to generate longer or more complete answers to questions. The story doesn’t specify (or at least I didn’t see it) HOW to tip the program. But I guess you can ask it that.

I thought that was ME dept: This one’s also true: National Geographic reports the discovery of a “punk-rock” dinosaur fossil in Morocco. The dinosaur had “bizarrely spiky ribs.” The dinosaur’s name is Spicomellus afer, after the Latin for “spike,” “collar,” and “an inhabitant of Africa.”


LINK TRADE DEPARTMENT:


I did a nice interview with The Aither zine. Interesting questions, complete, and questions I’ve never been asked before. You can read it here. It’s a good one.


I read that the search engines like lots of links... and it's also nice to support my friends and enemies in their blogs. So facebook me or email me if you have a blog, webpage or something else to connect to. I add you. You add me.


Here's a start:


My new pal Trey Mayhem sent me a great letter and some porno email pix. He’s got a blog that’s connected to his label Murder and Mayhem records. You can see the blog here.

My long-time friend Sid Yiddish appears on a YouTube DatingGame-like video. Guess who wins the bachelorette!

Here’s Richard Goldberg: goldberg.wordpress.com

Poetry and humor fans will like Justin Martin in The Latency

And my friend Mike R has a nice site with recipe hits from the past! (He cooked for me once... great stuff.) Check out Yesterday's Recipes.

And here's one by a member of ANTI-SEEN... a tour diary of sorts.

Andy Shelton has an interesting blog here.

Savage Hippie is a guy who has been YouTubing for a long time. Our opinions largely overlap... but he complains that I'm a Communist. I'm not! I'm a communist.

Chris Stecher publishes a zine called PRECIS. You can see the back issue links there... and he promises a new issue soon.

George Fertakis has a very nice graphics-heavy blog... with music and books featured prominently. If there’s no link here (I can’t find it temporarily), then Google… er… Duckduckgo him for information.

And my long-term pal Sid Yiddish contributes with his Mishegas Master Blog.

And connect to TRUST Zine, a long-running German punk zine… that STILL PRINTS!!! Yeah, they have a website too… of course! It’s here.

Here are a couple video links.

This from Jon Cox https://squelchchamber1.bandcamp.com/album/down-so-low

And this one from my very long-time friend Roger Armstrong who has recently died in a motorcycle accident.

Jim Testa moved his long running zine, Jersey Beat, to the blogosphere awhile back. You can read it here. Jim also recommended a kind of unique album… in a style you don’t see to much of these days… or any days. Neo-Hassidic Rock Opera. You can stream the album here.

Kyle Nonneman is in prison in Portland. At least he can’t be kidnapped by the secret police… I think. I post his blog for him, he can’t do it from the klink. Lots of stuff about noise metal… and some very weird politics that will either fascinate or repulse you… or both. It’s hard (and costs money) to send him email. So. If you remember how to write a letter… send him one at: Kyle Nonneman, #16534211, Snake River Correctional Institution, 777 Stanton Blvd Ontario OR 97914-8335

My long time pal, Jim Hayes rightfully complained about my leaving out his blog. He’s a great writer, so it was a tragic omission. Here it is.

Oh yeah, then there’s me. I have a blog of stuff I’ve written mostly from last century. You might enjoy it. Then again, you might not. It’s here.

Let me know if you have a blog… or a print zine… or a YouTube and want to be added to the list. You show me yours… you’ve already seen mine. god@mykelboard.com


THAT'S NOT TRUE or Mykel Board's Blog for Feb 2026

  THAT'S NOT TRUE or Mykel Board's Blog for Feb 2026     You’re STILL Wrong or Mykel's February  2026 Blog/Column THAT'S NOT...