Artist: Dan Oatman
Title: Carl The Eisegete
Release #: MIF190
Format: Book / CD
Release Date: May 21st, 2001
“What color is the sky?


Take a handful of the sky.
Take a handful of the ocean,
Will you?

They appear clear.

Do you see through?”

Carl The Eisegete is a companion guide to the work of the late Carl Reed who lived and wrote at the Saint Vincentian Monastery at Niagara University.

It's offered as a hand-bound book with (an) ink print {a kaleidoscope of thanks to one Laci Hess} and includes a CD with 12 songs in Mono.

Side A - Genus Six - 26:11
Side B - The Ever-Changing Permanents - 34:11

In one's hands, it is a playful approach to a concept kept on the tip-of-a-tongue tucked into the pocket-of-a-cheek.

In another's, it's an aid in contemplating the relative differences between multitudes and scattered singularity.

Take it, and take from it, as you will.
Make it, and make of it, as you may.
Sake it with the grain.

All good things to you in time and place,

Artist: Dan Oatman
Title: (th)e-free (3) e.p.
Release #: MIF112
Format: CD / Online Release
Release Date: April 22, 2009

(th)e-free (3) e.p. is a free three song e.p. written and recorded over the course of three days in April of 2009. The tracks are available here for mp3 download -or- at shows on cd-r with varied packaging constructed of ink, duct tape, re-used book jackets, cardboard, and paper bags.

01. An Instrumental Metaphor [MP3]
02. Three Abbreviations [MP3]
03. Lemonade [MP3]

Available at shows or by contacting Dan at

An Instrumental Metaphor

You can't stay
in tune
but I'll never lose you.
You see, you are
meant for me and I
am meant for you.

Crissy's polka-dot
guitar reminds me
that my car is in need
of something
brand and shiny
new. But it brought you
to me and you
are something

What if I lose
your cord?
How will I
afford the bill
for your soldering and
surgery? Poor you
and me.

A pair
of pliers to keep
A pair
of hands to grasp
and turn and learn
how a pair can part

The focus of two
points- like cartilage
to joints moves
smooth as a river
rock and effortlessly.

How my thoughts stream
to you and preserve
you as new
to me. Like ancient
melodies draining
into the seas. Liquidated
like a property for currency.

Where would you be
if it were not for me?

What would I do
if it were not for you?

You're meant for me.
I got a case
for you. I'll never
replace you and
my home will always be
your home.

If I ever lose
you just know that
I'm lost too.

Three Abbreviations

A deaf man
turning to walk
while sliding leather
into denim dropping
pocket change
rolling loosely on
unbalanced edges
like silver
chickens picketing purgatory
          A cashier calling,
          “Excuse me, Sir.”

Car parked straddling
a yellow line-
two flats and
a dented driver
's side door-
in the deep
unpopulated end
of an almost abandoned
shopping mall
's parking lot
sticks its tongue out
from under its hood
and coughs bloody-
murder for an insurance
agent-- walking hurried
to stand
in line- camera
in hand-
for two brand new
double A's and
a moment as digital
doctor or specialized
electronics surgeon

A pile of seeds is
still sitting
in my yard again
Two days ago
I spent an after-
noon watching
a sparrow splitting
and stockpiling
and abruptly abandoning
when an earth-
worm ascended.


They're not sure if you're
going to make it.
I always thought
I'd be
elated but I've never lived
a day without you.

The shit I believe
doesn't make
me anymore sure
it can save me.

I learned
how to swim
when I rescued you.

          I offered you
          the breath that I held
          in my lungs. I know
          that it was used
          and that you always
          got things new.

          We'll get used to it.
          There might just be some
          truth transparent
          everywhere in the air
          that we share.

I sold my soul
at such a young
age. Barely after
I started talking.
“Mama, Mama, more
milk.” I could
recite The Lord's Prayer.

On kingdom and power
and glory, I thought
about my Aunt
Lori. No relation-
just the feeling
of the words on
my young tongue.

          Now I relate
          from everything
          from everywhere.
          I see.
          I think.
          I hear.
          I taste.
          I talk.
          It all
          me so tightly-
          A universal claustrophobia.

          I yawn and feel
          my ears
          popping incessantly.

Equilibrium, keep me
balanced. You'll decide
to slide on
to one side
when you want to.
You're a toppling
tower- stressed and
fractured and cruell

We are the plants
that are growing out
of your foundation to
your top and over
to the dark side
of you and back in
to your empty rooms.

          We have explored and
          exploited and mapped
          out all your in-
          sides. There is not
          a reason why
          we shouldn't let you
          down. But, we found
          a way to
          reconstruct you.

          There is not a reason
          why you
          shouldn't be (yo[u)sed].

          Your foundation
          will be replaced by
          our roots.


Artist: Dan Oatman
Title: Antibiography / Antibiography and Other B-Sides
Release #: MIF083
Format: Book / CD
Release Date: December 26, 2008

Antibiography is a reflective collection of writings - all of which were primarily intended to be, and have been, sung.

Antibiography & Other B-Sides
01. The Robin Hood Complex
02. Warm Gun [MP3]
03. Summit With Perdott
04. Antibiography

Available at shows or by contacting Dan at

Artist: Dan Oatman
Title: The Devil Went Down to Sitidos and Other Songs of Love and Paranoia
Release #: MIF062
Format: CD
Release Date: June 1, 2008

The Devil Went Down to Sitidos and Other Songs of Love and Paranoia dawns a precursive monologue followed by a collection of six songs about paranoia or/and love. All songs were mostly written and fully recorded in an attic on Gompers Avenue in Indiana, PA.

01. The Devil Went Down to Sitidos [MP3]
02. Samson
03. Feet In Suits [MP3]
04. I Meet You Yesterday
05. Song
06. Twenty 'ot Seven [MP3]
07. Bug

Available at shows or by contacting Dan at

Artist: Dan Oatman
Title: Self Titled
Release #: MIF059
Release Date: MAR 2 5 2008
Format: CD (Out of Print)

1. Money and Time [MP3]
2. Time and Money
3. Prelude for the Birds [MP3]
4. Song for the Birds

"hey man
im gonna send one email for each release....hopefully that makes it easy to sort through....this ones for "Self Titled".....theres an artwork file and two mp3s....i still dont have all of them due to a long story that results in me buying a recorder and recording this can just be listed as out of print or something....but theres music for what its worth...."

Artist: Dan Oatman
Title: 10.13.07
Release #: MIF024
Format: CD

01. The Devil Went Down To Sitidos [MP3]
02. Tweezers Vs. Splinters: Round 1 [MP3]
03. Kick Back 1929 [MP3]
04. Time And Money [MP3]
05. The Tahneen [MP3]

Please visit + give thought to these websites:

Recorded by Brandon Locher
Photography by Jacob Koestler
The Devil Went Down To Sitidos
A Monologue (2007)

A late evening about two thousand years before the current era in what we now call Iraq. 

It's hot.

The scene is a large mass of discard a few miles outside of town, consisting almost entirely of human excrement and broken pottery shards. It piles possibly twenty feet high; or more. 

At the peak of the fill sits an extensively inoperable man that one could mistakenly classify as being something similar to a human. His skin appears tremendously crisp; freckled with complimentary puss-centered sores about half the size of your fist.

He's naked.

In his hands are intensely knife-like shards of pottery spewing wet with human filth-- which he is perpetually using to lacerate and drain his swollen plagues. He is throbbing and sweating blood.

He does not speak.

A woman enters aimlessly from the right; a vagrant seemingly detached from whereabouts and pace. She makes a few steps past the man; then stops.

She looks at the sky.

Her body begins to turn counter-clockwise, slowly and lackadaisically, chin up, almost full circle, until her vision meets that of the man at the peak of the fill.

She opens her mouth...

You wouldn't believe it. I had to leave. ( She reaches and leans forward; as if to whisper a drunken secret from twenty feet away. Her arms submerge to their elbows in the excrement. ) I told him to curse his god and die. ( She recoils and pauses a moment while futilely wiping filthy arms with filthy hands. Her gaze returns to the man. ) And all along we thought that we would live there and grow old. Now I don't live there...feels like I never lived there. ( The man doesn't show any signs of noticing her appearance; let alone make a response. ) And all along we thought that we would build good lives for our kids. Now they don't live they don't live. ( Looking to the ground and seemingly aside. ) But, they were meant to be. They were meant

(Looking back up at the man.) Can you help me, stranger? Why don't you speak to me? Can't you hear me, leper? Why don't you speak?


(Then she begins again to rotate slowly in the same direction, looking at the sky; away from the man and overlooking the audience. All while turning...) Have you no shame - Ha - Shem - What's in a name if you don't take blame? When you see this man do you cry? I just sigh-- and you can't fix me. ...cause I don't really think that you can really fix what you destroy. Once you've fixed it, it's not the same. ( The man doesn't notice her. He continues the lacerations.) I don't really think that you can really fix what you really destroy because once you've really fixed it, it's not the same as it was before. (She completes her revolution and her vision, again, meets the man.) Is this what we are meant to be?...

A pause. 

(And then, with breathless astonishment..) I don't believe what i see........

(She becomes frantic; struggling, yet practically running up the fill, screaming...) Job! 

(She reaches the peak and kneels next to Job. He still does not notice her presence.)  Don't you remember? You kissed me not your god. Don't you remember when you kissed me, baby? (Madly.) Baby! Baby?! My Joby! Joby! (Her hands on his shoulders.) Won't you look at me? Don't you recognize me, my baby? (He continues cutting; undeniably no acknowledgement.) My Joby!... My Joby. (Her cheek on his chest.) My baby...

Kick Back 1929

      If you think

      you're going crazy

      and you say,

     “I'm going crazy,”

            you aren't real -

            ly going crazy.

      If you say

      you're going crazy

      and you think your

      thoughts are thoughtful-

      ly falling

            out of your head,

            your head's in the clouds.

            And it is

            a stroll in the clouds,

            isn't it?


                  to yourself,

                  “Can't you


      If you think,

      you're going crazy.

      If you speak,

      you're going crazy.

            You aren't real

            ly going crazy.


      to yourself,

      “You're going crazy,”

      and think

      your thoughts are thoughtless-

      ly falling

            out of your head.

      Bury your head in the ground.

            But you are

            the stroller in the clouds,

            aren't you ?

                  Sing to yourself, “Can you

                        see the happenings

                        beneath your soles

                        but still studder,

                        'Na, na, No - I don't see a thing.'?”

I hide words like these in notebooks to remind myself of what I would say in a larger body-- but they are more than okay on their own. And they are more than okay right here. I'll read them when the stock market crashes again-- and you know that it will. I'm telling you, “It will.”

It will

buckle our knees.

It will be

the greatest depression

Time and Money

Give me hands, and swinging arms, and a key so I can show that I am still something without you here. What are we if we are kept in attics but we are never used by anyone? We're never used by anyone.

Let the things that are down rise up again.

Like all things electronic, I'm forgotten and I'm missing my battery door. It's hard living in an attic lacking insulation when all the batteries have killed themselves-- licking themselves for warmth.

I used to know a guy who'd die every night by staring at the T.V.-- And every morning I'd scare him to life again. He used to check on me to see how I'd changed, and I change constantly-- but somehow in a cycle and so I remain the same.

Let the things that are down rise up again .

You should have seen me there.

(So, where are

we if we

still have a future

but we're somewhere past

the present?)

The Tahneen

A Tragic Farce (2007)


There is some confusion of his identity; teacher, old world prophet, lunatic. His clothes sag from his body-- very apparently consisting of as much water as is cotton and polyester. His skeleton is wrapped in a corduroy skin—wrinkled from what would appear to be years of constant bathing.

A group cast not for their sense of acting, but for acrobatic skill-- the amount corresponding to the size of the theater. Preferably all female; preferably small theater. They are all dressed exactly alike-- something very similar to the outfit of a monk from the middle ages; Black cloth; Hoods on their heads. Underneath they may require some form of padding for the end of the scene. As for their lines, all the actors speak in unison-- like a loud chant.

is dimly lit; small floorlights run along it's perimeter providing subtle illumination of the surrounding walls. The walls are painted cartoonishly with images of the innards and throat of a whale. Adding to the “cartoonish” and animated feel of the set and characters, a spotlight from the ceiling shining perfect circle on center stage (slightly closer to the front of the stage)-- the light being natural sunlight coming through the blowhole of the whale.

DOVE is unseen—crouching in the pit.  THE TAHNEEN are to the backs of the audience—half on each side. As the lights in the theater dim, the sound of ocean waves can be distantly heard-- growing louder and seemingly closer until it sounds as if a great wave is sweeping over the audience. During the sound of this “great wave,” THE TAHNEEN run carrying a giant cloth and sweeping it above the heads of the audience. As the “wave” carries over their heads, the curtain is quickly drawn--  THE INSTRUCTOR is on stage, to either side of the spotlight, only partially in the light. As THE TAHNEEN reach the front of the theater, they lay the cloth in the pit-- where DOVE is seen being thrown (leaping) onto the stage. As THE TAHNEEN exit side doors, DOVE lands, facing THE INSTRUCTOR, on his hands and knees...

DOVE [ Still coughing and gagging from the water ]

You do?
Silence.  [ He slowly stands and composes himself ]
…know how to die.


Oh, yes, but I don't think we realize the size of our lives. So, I suggest we cross our sneaky eyes.
At this THE INSTUCTOR steps fully into the light revealing an absurd expression—eyes crossed and overly wide open. Enter THE TAHNEEN, emerging from both sides of the stage.


What's he have to say?


Well, you know… [ Trailing off and somewhat astounded at the appearance of THE TAHNEEN]

THE INSTUCTOR [ Interrupting ]

…how to see the stars in the skies! Even when you're blind, just press in on your eyes [ making a laughably childlike gesture; his fingers pressing against his eyes] And you will see shapes and lines that shine and float free.


You do?
He imitates the gesture.


THE INSTRUCTOR removes his hands from his face as THE TAHNEEN simultaneously press their fingers to their eyes.


Oh. Yeah! You do! [ Dancing and singing excitedly ] Do do do do do – do do do do – do do do do do do – dee di di dee!

THE TAHNEEN [ Joining the dance ]

Ooo! Aah!

THE INSTUCTOR [ Aside—or, to the audience ]

Oh, Dove.
Well, you know...

DOVE [ Interrupting and removing his hands from his eyes ]

Wait, wait! I don't have the time for this or other tricks. I need to get outside. Can you find...

THE TAHNEEN [ Interrupting and removing their hands from their eyes ]



...a way to make you blind? You must be out of your mind!


No! No! No!


Don't you see? This is not where I am to be. If you can find a way out for me then I will find one for you.


Don't you see? 




There is no way out of here.


Haven't you looked up above you?


Oh! Oh! Oh!

THE INSTRUCTOR [ Standing directly in the light and looking upward ]

I see!


Oh yeah? You do?


Oh-yeah-I-do! [ Dancing and singing excitedly ] I do – do do do do – do do do do – do do do do do do – dee di di dee!

He instructs THE TAHNEEN as DOVE watches anxiously.  THE TAHNEEN try desperately to stack themselves forming a human ladder to the blowhole—the first few attempts on their hands and knees atop each others backs; then standing, feet on top of shoulders.  THE INSTRUCTOR furiously runs around them shouting advice as DOVE races side to side offering support to the human tower. Each attempt fails as THE TAHNEEN collapse miserably on one another. The Curtain is drawn as the group is seen continuing the effort again and again.

See Also: