Tuesday, August 26, 2003
Ladies and gents,

In preparation for the release of our new EP, we took a few moments over the weekend to shoot some photos of ourselves, to be included in CD artwork, press packets, and People Magazine's 100 Sluttiest Men Alive pictorial issue (Michael: #12; Keith and Chris, not at all coincidentally: tied at #3). But and so anyway: we are among America's most photogenic manchildren, and we can hardly wait to share the fruits of the weekend with you. Unfortunately, our management maintains that it is simply bad business to share all of our sweet photovisual gold with the masses before they've been implemented in their ultimate capacity. The best we can do, right now, is to offer small - small, but satisfying - snippets of some of the shots taken during the photoshoot, which essentially chronicles a chunklet in the life of the We Are Scientists. We were simply followed closely around Brooklyn for 23 minutes by a camera crew, who, in the brief amount of time alloted by the band before we retreated back into our temperature-controlled hideout where there are snacks and the Josie and the Pussycat's Collector's Edition DVD, managed to capture the photos from which the following, cropped images have been culled, offering what we feel is a pretty accurate depiction of our daily routine.

































































Tuesday, August 19, 2003
Dear you little nymphs,

Since we last spoke, there was a blackout here, and elsewhere, but most importantly of course here. This was not actually that bad, all things considered. Considering, for instance, that among certain species of walrus and seal it is apparently a way of life both rote and annual for the adult males--all but the single alpha--to "bugger" the tribe's children, the blackout was not actually that bad. One nice thing was that New York City, which is a very lovely town, was being lighted exclusively by candle, which is a good light. It may be that man's population growth has far outstripped that of other terrestrial species for the simple reason that until a hundred and fifty years ago all lighting was mood lighting.

Strolling the very dark streets, a friend of the band's wondered aloud whether there might be, nine months from now, an appreciable pop in birthrates in the powerless, t.v.-less cities. The answer is of course that no, before the blackout people were already making babies as fast as they possibly could.

On the subject of darkness, were you aware that Pluto is so far from our (and its) sun that, were a person to stand on Pluto, said sun would appear to him or her as nothing more than a bright star in a star-filled sky? Is that not the very picture of loneliness, somone standing there on icy Pluto trying to pick out from among thousands of others the star to which they belong? Luckily, it wasn't like that in New York. It was dark, but there were lots of us here, and candles.


Tuesday, August 05, 2003
Did we forget to tell you about our show tomorrow? Did we? Forget? We're not willing to believe that such a thing is possible, especially considering the import of this show, which is in Boston. Which, like, automatically lends a little weight to the whole affair, right? I mean, wow: Boston. Home of some history, or something, are we right about that? Didn't something historical happen there at some point? Like something was signed, or someone took a tumble, or something? We don't know, because we've never been there. And it looks like we're going to find out the hard way, unless you people show up, or at least tell your Boston-area (Hey, Newton? Wassup, Cambridge? How's it hanging, um, East Cambridge? We don't know.) friends to do so. Don't you think that your Boston-area friends deserve a little heads-up on this sort of thing? They live in the Boston area, for crissakes.