And that is the last you will hear from this space.
Thanks for the formz.
Mike
Monday, May 19, 2008
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
An Easy Victory
I'm rarely proud of what I do at work, but opening a paragraph with "Today is Earth Day" boosted my spirits this evening. The man who edits my summaries of TV shows was kind enough to leave well enough alone, and he did a great job with the subheds. Further thanks are well in order.
And now I'm off to a coffee shop to meet my favorite Sulkypants.
And now I'm off to a coffee shop to meet my favorite Sulkypants.
Beck's in the Moonlight
Normally I'm not one to go in for the bocks, but to paraphrase an old friend from out West, there's nothing for a successful summer evening like a big huge Beck's.
In my backyard, I could hear Radiohead, probably the new album (slow, minor piano and Thom Yorke quavering as he is wont to do nowadays), playing from the window of the college kids two floors above. The apartment complex next door is nearly finished, and it's a monstrosity -- aluminum, curvy walls. They really gutted that place. But the air was warm and full of the promise of a teenage birthday party.
So I says, not too much can go wrong from here.
In my backyard, I could hear Radiohead, probably the new album (slow, minor piano and Thom Yorke quavering as he is wont to do nowadays), playing from the window of the college kids two floors above. The apartment complex next door is nearly finished, and it's a monstrosity -- aluminum, curvy walls. They really gutted that place. But the air was warm and full of the promise of a teenage birthday party.
So I says, not too much can go wrong from here.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
A Fact About "The Legend of Zelda" and Some Other Things
I'm still on a kick of reading about video games on Wikipedia. Okay enough jibbajabba let's make with some facts!
-Princess Zelda takes her name from Zelda Fitzgerald!
-"The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past" deftly uses a pun in a title.
That's it. Not the most research-heavy of posts.
-Princess Zelda takes her name from Zelda Fitzgerald!
-"The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past" deftly uses a pun in a title.
That's it. Not the most research-heavy of posts.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Leona Lewis - "Bleeding Love"
Okay so the #1 track this week is a song by Leona Lewis, a British performer who looks like Ani Difranco sorta and tears a half a page out of the Kate Bush playbook, near as I can tell.
Embedded below: a YouTube clip of a Karaoke version by YouTube member Oliviathai, who apparently does numerous YouTube covers.
Now for a slideshow of vidcaps from another music video from Leona Lewis. This time the song is "Better in Time."
Note the 19th-century Brit-Lit imagery of a lady and a guy and a horse, kind of like that book Jane Eyre. I think I'm not wrong about that anyway.
This song had me thinking like, "Okay this is one of those weepy songs like the Fergie ballad that hit the top spot a couple months ago." But when the drums came in with some reverb, I was reminded of songs at parties that ignite a fire in the ladies and offer a chance for the dudes to come a little closer. And Leona Lewis wears a lot of makeup, which is kind of unladylike, in a good way.
And that's all I really care to say about Leona Lewis for the moment. I think she'll be in the #1 spot only for a week. But it's a good week for her to be there.
Embedded below: a YouTube clip of a Karaoke version by YouTube member Oliviathai, who apparently does numerous YouTube covers.
Now for a slideshow of vidcaps from another music video from Leona Lewis. This time the song is "Better in Time."
Note the 19th-century Brit-Lit imagery of a lady and a guy and a horse, kind of like that book Jane Eyre. I think I'm not wrong about that anyway.
This song had me thinking like, "Okay this is one of those weepy songs like the Fergie ballad that hit the top spot a couple months ago." But when the drums came in with some reverb, I was reminded of songs at parties that ignite a fire in the ladies and offer a chance for the dudes to come a little closer. And Leona Lewis wears a lot of makeup, which is kind of unladylike, in a good way.
And that's all I really care to say about Leona Lewis for the moment. I think she'll be in the #1 spot only for a week. But it's a good week for her to be there.
Can It Be All So Simple
I stepped out of my apartment for a minute this morning. My landlord was in the garage. Turns out he has a dinghy, the motor for which was in need of repairs.
"I sail all over -- Cape Cod, Boston, I've been to Florida, Bermuda."
"Sounds great. I hope you figure out what's wrong."
"Oh, I think I got it. There's a bad wire here. Usually, when I look hard enough, I find problems."
A woman was walking her child in a stroller. The little girl waved to me and said "hello." She gave her name.
"Nice meeting you, Eva. Enjoy the weather. I guess it's a little cloudy."
"Bye!"
"I sail all over -- Cape Cod, Boston, I've been to Florida, Bermuda."
"Sounds great. I hope you figure out what's wrong."
"Oh, I think I got it. There's a bad wire here. Usually, when I look hard enough, I find problems."
A woman was walking her child in a stroller. The little girl waved to me and said "hello." She gave her name.
"Nice meeting you, Eva. Enjoy the weather. I guess it's a little cloudy."
"Bye!"
A Special Message to Me From Delaware
1) Cars stacked nearly on top of one another over the Delaware Memorial Bridge and for several miles afterward. As a special "fuck you" to me, the state had narrowed I-95 to two lanes. The loud women from Maryland complained that the bus driver was talking in Chinese.
2) Last night I dreamed I was back in Delaware waiting tables. This wasn't so bad except no one would tell me where my section was. I would start serving a family, and the managers would move them as I was getting drinks. The menu kept switching mid-meal, too, and people were ordering bizarre things like two lobsters with scrambled eggs and noodles. I had wanted to show the other waiters that I had improved since last time but I continued to look very stupid. At least I was not embarrassed about any of this.
2) Last night I dreamed I was back in Delaware waiting tables. This wasn't so bad except no one would tell me where my section was. I would start serving a family, and the managers would move them as I was getting drinks. The menu kept switching mid-meal, too, and people were ordering bizarre things like two lobsters with scrambled eggs and noodles. I had wanted to show the other waiters that I had improved since last time but I continued to look very stupid. At least I was not embarrassed about any of this.
Friday, April 18, 2008
I'm Southbound!
Gearing up for a weekend in the city I fled times before. There, the ratio of time people devote to having an interesting vs. healthy life is probably 70/30. In New York, it's more like 99/1. There will be video games, there will be grilling, and there will be very little blood (with any luck).
DC ahoy, bitches.
DC ahoy, bitches.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Start Over
-Stapleton is still bringing the funny, if you can ever sort through what the heck he's talking about.
-I've been listening to this a lot.
-I just thought of a way to categorize Wikipedia entries: have alphabetical lists of images or ideas invoked in an artist's work. So for Kurt Cobain you'd have a list including Frances Farmer, Leonard Cohen; the Wu-Tang would have Clark's Wallabees, etc. I'm going to check now if they already do this. [. . .] Not the way I'm picturing it.
-I'm looking forward to the new Batman movie. The Joker skateboards in it!
-Tonight I'm gonna see a movie called Priceless. Gonna resurrect my inner francophile, also my inner Audrey Tautou-phile. Is she a gay icon? Lesbian icon? She should be both! She's sort of halfway a straight icon. Bi icon? Bicon!
-I've been listening to this a lot.
-I just thought of a way to categorize Wikipedia entries: have alphabetical lists of images or ideas invoked in an artist's work. So for Kurt Cobain you'd have a list including Frances Farmer, Leonard Cohen; the Wu-Tang would have Clark's Wallabees, etc. I'm going to check now if they already do this. [. . .] Not the way I'm picturing it.
-I'm looking forward to the new Batman movie. The Joker skateboards in it!
-Tonight I'm gonna see a movie called Priceless. Gonna resurrect my inner francophile, also my inner Audrey Tautou-phile. Is she a gay icon? Lesbian icon? She should be both! She's sort of halfway a straight icon. Bi icon? Bicon!
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
First the Guys
It's not right.
One day I will put together a list of all the songs still cache'd from my YouTube searches. That list is the soundtrack of everything since the Great Laptop Theft of 2007.
Maybe this weekend. Blame the boredom.
One day I will put together a list of all the songs still cache'd from my YouTube searches. That list is the soundtrack of everything since the Great Laptop Theft of 2007.
Maybe this weekend. Blame the boredom.
Owwwww
Many things in life are discouraging, but among the worst in recent memory is clicking the "send" button with a fair amount of conviction that what's being sent isn't worth the two shits that bookended it.
There's falling flat on one's face, which is what happens if the words don't come at all. It's not clear whether falling to one's knees, which is what happens if the words kind of come, is better or worse.
The incessant fear that this will all crash horribly on my balding head makes sleep a distant and remote possibility.
Someone pass the crutch.
There's falling flat on one's face, which is what happens if the words don't come at all. It's not clear whether falling to one's knees, which is what happens if the words kind of come, is better or worse.
The incessant fear that this will all crash horribly on my balding head makes sleep a distant and remote possibility.
Someone pass the crutch.
So
Liveblogging this mess is only causing disaster. Project ABANDONED. Post-beer, perhaps, or perhaps never again. Too much R&B makes the heart grow sadder.
Okay Okay
-Improved versions of several, aka three, but still probably not at the halfway mark. They may be dumb, but they have hopes of looking pretty one day (tomorrow or not at all, actually).
-So much Red Bull feeling like Ryan Sheckler.
-It doesn't hurt as much as it could.
-One day I will look back on these moments in a separate kind of light.
-Round the block we go.
-So much Red Bull feeling like Ryan Sheckler.
-It doesn't hurt as much as it could.
-One day I will look back on these moments in a separate kind of light.
-Round the block we go.
I'm Having Quintuplets
-But I'm not scared.
-We're looking at 30 on 15 off.
-The jazz is flowing in my veins mighty heavily, but do not worry it's not anything that would make your mama scared (it's Red Bull).
-There will be moments of crushing despair as usual but if there's one *swish* in the bunch it's all a matter of merit.
-Looking at a 1:00 stop time should all proceed properly.
-See you in half an hour.
-We're looking at 30 on 15 off.
-The jazz is flowing in my veins mighty heavily, but do not worry it's not anything that would make your mama scared (it's Red Bull).
-There will be moments of crushing despair as usual but if there's one *swish* in the bunch it's all a matter of merit.
-Looking at a 1:00 stop time should all proceed properly.
-See you in half an hour.
Pearl Jam's "Lukin"
One of my favorite songs that lasts less than a minute. I was inspired by Sulks' recent invocation of the Descendents.
This video, like the Misfits "Skulls" linked earlier, is animated and hilarious. There is some vulgar (and quite gratuitous) imagery involving weiners, so be careful if you're offended by weiners. If you like vulger and gratuitous imagery involving weiners, though, then you'll love this.
In seriousness, I always liked "Lukin" for the things this video makes fun of - imprecise, directionless, angry yelling. And of course the "B" part where he says "Ain't gonna lose it" or "I'm going Lukin" or whatever.
There's a special genre of song where you don't have to understand the lyrics at all to get pumped. "Tourette's" by Nirvana is probably the most obvious case study.
This video, like the Misfits "Skulls" linked earlier, is animated and hilarious. There is some vulgar (and quite gratuitous) imagery involving weiners, so be careful if you're offended by weiners. If you like vulger and gratuitous imagery involving weiners, though, then you'll love this.
In seriousness, I always liked "Lukin" for the things this video makes fun of - imprecise, directionless, angry yelling. And of course the "B" part where he says "Ain't gonna lose it" or "I'm going Lukin" or whatever.
There's a special genre of song where you don't have to understand the lyrics at all to get pumped. "Tourette's" by Nirvana is probably the most obvious case study.
Dead Lines
It's good on occasion to realize that no one cares as much as you whether what you write is any good, and that most people, having no knowledge of what might have been for a given piece, won't even realize you've done a bad job. This realization allows you to continue to write, ignoring your own conviction that what you're doing is subpar.
On the other hand, too much of this realization makes for complacent -- and therefore bad -- writers.
For now, I'm just glad I'm not a complete smoldering wreck over it all. Plus, there's always next time. That is, until the editors wise up, and then there isn't next time, which might not be so bad either.
On the other hand, too much of this realization makes for complacent -- and therefore bad -- writers.
For now, I'm just glad I'm not a complete smoldering wreck over it all. Plus, there's always next time. That is, until the editors wise up, and then there isn't next time, which might not be so bad either.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
I Never Saw the Sunrise Before I Met All You Guys
Friday: Sulks had a party at a bar. People were in attendance. I met a guy who was into Gaddis and Wayne's World and I got a little slanty. We stayed up very late.
We're never short on special occasions.
Saturday: Enormous brunch at an Irish bar run by an enormous Irish man who, to judge by his gapped teeth and bawdy sense of humor, is a rugby player. Several friends turned up from out of town. We bought a football at the dollar store and threw it in Fort Greene Park, enjoying the sun and the view of a tiny segment of Manhattan. That night, I could have gone to another party but instead slept Friday off.
Sunday: Bought some papers, drank coffee and did laundry as I waited for others to rouse themselves. Met Kibblesmith and other wholesome midwesterners for late breakfast at the Greek man-diner on the corner. We cleaned the apartment and left the window open to get some fresh air in the place. In the evening we bought pizza and for some reason discussed our favorite rap songs from 2005. I read about Goldeneye and Street Fighter II Turbo for a bit before turning in. Came up with a funny joke about having to explain certain absences.
We're never short on special occasions.
Saturday: Enormous brunch at an Irish bar run by an enormous Irish man who, to judge by his gapped teeth and bawdy sense of humor, is a rugby player. Several friends turned up from out of town. We bought a football at the dollar store and threw it in Fort Greene Park, enjoying the sun and the view of a tiny segment of Manhattan. That night, I could have gone to another party but instead slept Friday off.
Sunday: Bought some papers, drank coffee and did laundry as I waited for others to rouse themselves. Met Kibblesmith and other wholesome midwesterners for late breakfast at the Greek man-diner on the corner. We cleaned the apartment and left the window open to get some fresh air in the place. In the evening we bought pizza and for some reason discussed our favorite rap songs from 2005. I read about Goldeneye and Street Fighter II Turbo for a bit before turning in. Came up with a funny joke about having to explain certain absences.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Caught in the Act
Of status-message revision:
Patrick's new status message - hey whiteboy wachyou doin uptown? 8:07 PM
Patrick's new status message - hey whiteboy what are you doin uptown? 8:07 PM
Patrick's new status message - hey whiteboy what are you doing uptown? 8:07 PM
When I Turn Twenty Fivefive
I want to drivedrive in a carcar with the lightlights looking brightbright.
50 Cents
I gave a man 50 cents today when he asked for it. That was the first such gesture I've made in a while.
Mencken
"If, after I depart this vale, you ever remember me and have thought to please my ghost, forgive some sinner, and wink your eye at some homely girl."
(Epitaph)
"The larger the mob, the harder the test. In small areas, before small electorates, a first-rate man occasionally fights his way through, carrying even the mob with him by force of his personality. But when the field is nationwide, and the fight must be waged chiefly at second and third hand, and the force of personality cannot so readily make itself felt, then all the odds are on the man who is, intrinsically, the most devious and mediocre — the man who can most easily adeptly disperse the notion that his mind is a virtual vacuum.
"The Presidency tends, year by year, to go to such men. As democracy is perfected, the office represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people. We move toward a lofty ideal. On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart's desire at last, and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron." (Baltimore Evening Sun, July 26, 1920)
Both from the Wikipedia entry.
(Epitaph)
"The larger the mob, the harder the test. In small areas, before small electorates, a first-rate man occasionally fights his way through, carrying even the mob with him by force of his personality. But when the field is nationwide, and the fight must be waged chiefly at second and third hand, and the force of personality cannot so readily make itself felt, then all the odds are on the man who is, intrinsically, the most devious and mediocre — the man who can most easily adeptly disperse the notion that his mind is a virtual vacuum.
"The Presidency tends, year by year, to go to such men. As democracy is perfected, the office represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people. We move toward a lofty ideal. On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart's desire at last, and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron." (Baltimore Evening Sun, July 26, 1920)
Both from the Wikipedia entry.
Orwell
* Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.
* Never use a long word where a short one will do.
* If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.
* Never use the passive voice where you can use the active.
* Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.
* Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.
* Never use a long word where a short one will do.
* If it is possible to cut a word out, always cut it out.
* Never use the passive voice where you can use the active.
* Never use a foreign phrase, a scientific word, or a jargon word if you can think of an everyday English equivalent.
* Break any of these rules sooner than say anything outright barbarous.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Foux de Fa Fa Et Moi
Je ne comprends pay.
This is from the TV show "Flight of the Conchords," which is pretty funny, I guess, although it goes into the land of cheesiness a little often.
A friend of mine from out of town, who really is French, watches this video incessantly. I guess it reminds him of home.
If I were to listen to a French song incessantly, it'd be this one.
"J'y pense et puis j'oublie."
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Unrelated
Some things are unrelated. Here are some unrelated things.
This is harder than you might think. Most things are related.
-Ramen noodles and baseball.
-Me and Michael Jordan.
-Pistachios and jumping jacks.
-Pistols and ... pistols, turns out, are related to everything.
-Guitars and greenhouses.
-Punk rock and "Sally Forth," the cartoon.
-The dotted line in the middle of the road and the way it feels when you touch your facial hair ever so slightly.
-Stars (the balls of flaming gas) and concepts (the concepts).
-Britain and footwear.
-Potatoes and mountain biking.
This is harder than you might think. Most things are related.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Where's Big Blu?
Blogging about Mariah made me wonder whatever happened to Blu Cantrell. She was alright. Sorta like Mary J. Blige but not as old or good at singing (not good at singing in a good way).
The Wikipedia entry is decidedly pro-Blu, and in fact may have been written by Blu herself:
Answer: Big Blu is now an actress. Also note that Blu once reneged on a slated appearance in Playboy.
The Wikipedia entry is decidedly pro-Blu, and in fact may have been written by Blu herself:
In the summer of 2005, a music video for the previously unreleased song, "The Cha Cha" was produced, but never released because the production agreement over the song was unfairly advantageous to the prodcuer [sic] and left Blu virtually out of the loop, so the video and the song were shelved. Also, in 2005, Hit 'em Up Style: Chart and Club Hits was released without any promotion in the U.S. It was a compilation/remix album containing Cantrell's two biggest hits, some other tracks from the former two albums and some remixes of tracks featured on the first albums. Blu continues to enjoy acclaim by European audiences. [. . .] Blu Cantrell is set to star in a play, on Sept 29th, called 'Gossip, Lies & Secrets'[2]. The stageplay will tour in 15 cities.
Answer: Big Blu is now an actress. Also note that Blu once reneged on a slated appearance in Playboy.
Great Moments in "Whoa"
Just a few songs whose whoas really bring it:
AFI - "God Called in Sick Today": My friend who knows the most about punk of anybody (introduced me to Nobodys and DRI - not that that's indicative) says he liked AFI until they got all goth and Guttermouth made an album about hating them. This song isn't that sweet, but you gotta give credit to the whoas. I used to listen to this in college while playing chess against my roommate. One time I missed a philosophy discussion section because we were playing chess and had to email the professor so I wouldn't fail the class.
Offspring - "The Kids Aren't Alright": This song isn't that sweet either but the whoas are.
Misfits - "Night of the Living Dead": Brian Sumner and Jeff Lenoce skated to this in Birdhouse's "The End." It's not a big surprise that AFI like the Misfits so much.
NOFX - "Whoa Against Whoas": An anti-whoa song that nonetheless illustrates how awesome whoas are. The video linked here contains video-game footage.
Pennywise - "Bro Hymn": When I was in high school, a really fast sprinter let me listen to this on his Discman before I swam a race. The undisputed champion in the whoas category.
AFI - "God Called in Sick Today": My friend who knows the most about punk of anybody (introduced me to Nobodys and DRI - not that that's indicative) says he liked AFI until they got all goth and Guttermouth made an album about hating them. This song isn't that sweet, but you gotta give credit to the whoas. I used to listen to this in college while playing chess against my roommate. One time I missed a philosophy discussion section because we were playing chess and had to email the professor so I wouldn't fail the class.
Offspring - "The Kids Aren't Alright": This song isn't that sweet either but the whoas are.
Misfits - "Night of the Living Dead": Brian Sumner and Jeff Lenoce skated to this in Birdhouse's "The End." It's not a big surprise that AFI like the Misfits so much.
NOFX - "Whoa Against Whoas": An anti-whoa song that nonetheless illustrates how awesome whoas are. The video linked here contains video-game footage.
Pennywise - "Bro Hymn": When I was in high school, a really fast sprinter let me listen to this on his Discman before I swam a race. The undisputed champion in the whoas category.
Mariah Carey - "Touch My Body"
Mariah outdid Usher and Jeezy at some point in some categories to make her way to the No. 1 spot on the Billboard Hot.
First:
This song is about making a sex tape. Making a sex tape is an exciting prospect for many, but not for Mariah. Her chief concern is that the video not wind up on YouTube.
Second:
It's very Internet of whoever made this video to have the tech-support guy playing on a Guitar Hero thing. In fact, the entire video looks like it should be a Funny or Die affair, with equal "Funny" and "Die" votes.
Third:
"Let me rub my face / around your waist [waste? haha, probably not but still]."
Fourth:
I remember my Rolling Stone subscription including a cover photo of Mariah using a camera with the flash. She was holding the camera between her legs. This reminds me o f the Internet phenomenon of self-shot pornography/erotic photos, where women pose in front of a mirror, sometimes for the express purpose of putting those images on a Web site. The Web site was made so that women could post such photos on it. Some sort of ethical pornography.
The obvious conclusion is that Mariah Carey is the most Internet pornography-savvy of any female R&B performer.
Fifth:
I never much cared for Mariah Carey.
First:
This song is about making a sex tape. Making a sex tape is an exciting prospect for many, but not for Mariah. Her chief concern is that the video not wind up on YouTube.
Second:
It's very Internet of whoever made this video to have the tech-support guy playing on a Guitar Hero thing. In fact, the entire video looks like it should be a Funny or Die affair, with equal "Funny" and "Die" votes.
Third:
"Let me rub my face / around your waist [waste? haha, probably not but still]."
Fourth:
I remember my Rolling Stone subscription including a cover photo of Mariah using a camera with the flash. She was holding the camera between her legs. This reminds me o f the Internet phenomenon of self-shot pornography/erotic photos, where women pose in front of a mirror, sometimes for the express purpose of putting those images on a Web site. The Web site was made so that women could post such photos on it. Some sort of ethical pornography.
The obvious conclusion is that Mariah Carey is the most Internet pornography-savvy of any female R&B performer.
Fifth:
I never much cared for Mariah Carey.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Quick Thing
It might be a good idea to start, rather than finish, phrases with "my ass."
You went to Milwaukee, my ass!
vs.
My ass, you went to Milwaukee!
Maybe expresses a different sentiment in the latter case, akin to "My stars!"
Either way, something to consider.
You went to Milwaukee, my ass!
vs.
My ass, you went to Milwaukee!
Maybe expresses a different sentiment in the latter case, akin to "My stars!"
Either way, something to consider.
Reportage, Ethics
I have a weird idea that you're not supposed to promise anything to someone you've interviewed for an article at the end of the interview. I always say something like "I'll send you a link to my story." I do that even if I don't really intend on sending a link or secretly hope the subject never sees the finished product*.
1) Why do I feel obligated to give these people anything?
2) Why do I feel obligated to deny that sense of obligation?
*N.B. There are like three "finished products" in existence, encompassing no more than seven subjects. One of which breaks other rules of journalism. So I'm not good at any of this either way. :P
1) Why do I feel obligated to give these people anything?
2) Why do I feel obligated to deny that sense of obligation?
*N.B. There are like three "finished products" in existence, encompassing no more than seven subjects. One of which breaks other rules of journalism. So I'm not good at any of this either way. :P
Shooter Effect
Black Armed:758.72ms
Black Unarmed:806.28ms
White Armed:811.16ms
White Unarmed:788.52ms
How racist are you?
Addendum: It occurs to me that by showing my own stats at the beginning there I might skew your sampling. But I have other problems with this statistical analysis.
Some helpful stats to include in future iterations of the racist gun game:
Number of people killed broken down by black vs. white.
Number of unarmed mistakes vs. armed mistakes.
Ibid., broken down by black vs. white.
Also it's important that the size of each black or white population be well thought out. If it's just random, then obviously the sample size for one group or the other will skew results.
At any rate, it's clear that I think a lot longer before deciding whether to kill a white person. Good thing I am only a guy playing a game on the Internet and not an armed guy trying to shoot or not shoot people based on what they hold in their hands.
Black Unarmed:806.28ms
White Armed:811.16ms
White Unarmed:788.52ms
How racist are you?
Addendum: It occurs to me that by showing my own stats at the beginning there I might skew your sampling. But I have other problems with this statistical analysis.
Some helpful stats to include in future iterations of the racist gun game:
Number of people killed broken down by black vs. white.
Number of unarmed mistakes vs. armed mistakes.
Ibid., broken down by black vs. white.
Also it's important that the size of each black or white population be well thought out. If it's just random, then obviously the sample size for one group or the other will skew results.
At any rate, it's clear that I think a lot longer before deciding whether to kill a white person. Good thing I am only a guy playing a game on the Internet and not an armed guy trying to shoot or not shoot people based on what they hold in their hands.
Monday, April 07, 2008
Hayfever
An Unemotional Topic
A year ago today I met the midpoint of a horrific bout of hayfever. I spent the entire month between mid-March and mid-April on Benadryl. This was a difficult time because drowsiness is not a desirable symptom for a bartender to have. I didn't mind, though, because the histamine blocker soothes nerves, and I never even noticed how long I was making people wait for their drinks. It was only after the pollen left the air that the regulars told me how slow I'd been. I wonder why they kept coming back. Must be my cheery disposition.
This morning as I sat mentally preparing for a long-delayed physical exertion, my eyes began to itch and water. There's some swelling above my right eye, the way it feels right after it's taken a punch.
Here we go again. April is the cruelest month.
A year ago today I met the midpoint of a horrific bout of hayfever. I spent the entire month between mid-March and mid-April on Benadryl. This was a difficult time because drowsiness is not a desirable symptom for a bartender to have. I didn't mind, though, because the histamine blocker soothes nerves, and I never even noticed how long I was making people wait for their drinks. It was only after the pollen left the air that the regulars told me how slow I'd been. I wonder why they kept coming back. Must be my cheery disposition.
This morning as I sat mentally preparing for a long-delayed physical exertion, my eyes began to itch and water. There's some swelling above my right eye, the way it feels right after it's taken a punch.
Here we go again. April is the cruelest month.
Friday, April 04, 2008
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Got a Book
Down and Out in Paris and London. Borders. The one on Wall and Broadway. Still amazed my life contains such locations.
Robert
One of my friends named Robert, who was 25 when I was 23, said to me "I could tell you stories. I could tell you stories like I was 90 years old."
One day I asked him for a story, and he told one about how he took a job working for a repo man out near Spokane. He'd been high on crank for several days and was assigned to unload stuff from a real bad crack house. Shortly after he arrived, the cops pulled up in the driveway and the home's owner pulled a gun on Robert and his employer.
"Whoa, calm down, bud," Rob said. "We're on the same team."
Rob then advised the man to throw the gun out the window and helped him flush the drugs down the toilet. Then he jumped out the window himself, the cops still banging on the door.
One day I asked him for a story, and he told one about how he took a job working for a repo man out near Spokane. He'd been high on crank for several days and was assigned to unload stuff from a real bad crack house. Shortly after he arrived, the cops pulled up in the driveway and the home's owner pulled a gun on Robert and his employer.
"Whoa, calm down, bud," Rob said. "We're on the same team."
Rob then advised the man to throw the gun out the window and helped him flush the drugs down the toilet. Then he jumped out the window himself, the cops still banging on the door.
The KaZaa Rap Songs
There's a certain playlist that got generated in college dorms in the late 90s and early 2000s at Georgetown. A certain subset of people (maybe just my group of friends) discovered these songs mainly because they were available for free. Here are some that I can think of.
Tupac and Biggie Madison Square Garden Freestyle
Mos Def Knicks Freestyle
The Massive Wu-Tang Freestyle (in two parts on YouTube)
Slug Eyedea MC Juice MSE Freestyle
There's another Atmosphere one where I think Slug says something like "That's just me I got short memory / but maybe you remember me / from the first time we came out / it was last September we ..."
I'm not saying all this stuff is really that awesome now but at a certain time it was.
Tupac and Biggie Madison Square Garden Freestyle
Mos Def Knicks Freestyle
The Massive Wu-Tang Freestyle (in two parts on YouTube)
Slug Eyedea MC Juice MSE Freestyle
There's another Atmosphere one where I think Slug says something like "That's just me I got short memory / but maybe you remember me / from the first time we came out / it was last September we ..."
I'm not saying all this stuff is really that awesome now but at a certain time it was.
Rats in the Belfry
There are at least three distinct rats in the ceiling of my bedroom. They know how to party!
Last night before I went to bed I heard them scurrying and squealing at each other. The scamper noises were often punctuated by loud thuds. I imagine they squeal to get each other pumped and then one of them charges the wall. Other times there's just a lot of scratching, at which times I picture one of those dust balls they used to show in the cartoons, with limbs and random objects occasionally protruding.
Last night before I went to bed I heard them scurrying and squealing at each other. The scamper noises were often punctuated by loud thuds. I imagine they squeal to get each other pumped and then one of them charges the wall. Other times there's just a lot of scratching, at which times I picture one of those dust balls they used to show in the cartoons, with limbs and random objects occasionally protruding.
A Merry Time at the Maritime
He was well versed in the marital arts. She was well versed in martial arts. They laughed over their teeny martinis.
Samurai
I keep noticing a pattern of martial art imagery in the latest posts.
To which I say: "Hi-YA!"
To which I say: "Hi-YA!"
From My Hilarious Sister
Via email:
one thing i forgot to say:
for my film class, we're watching/analyzing "after life" a japanese indie flick. one boring old man is watching a tape of his life, and we get to a scene of him and his arranged wife to be at a restaurant. he dabs his sweaty brow as she sits cool as a cucumber, watching him be pathetic. so anyways, she asks him about his hobbies...none...she asks him about films: "which kind?...American films, French films?" and bozo-dude is piqued!! "I like samurai action and..."
no more sweaty brow. thank you samurai action films and thank you street fighter II turbo. always a good conversation starter with boys i don't know very well.
Showers
Confronted yesterday with a task requiring cleverness I, like many before me, thought of how easy it is to have ideas in the shower.
By logical extension, my place of employment should have a shower. Or better yet, I should bring a shower with me everywhere I go. I'm thinking a version like the one Daniel uses in The Karate Kid.
I haven't talked with children age 5 or so in a while. I wonder if they're as into karate and ninjas as my friends and I were back then. Also: do they watch Batman Begins or the Tim Burton movies? Shark Boy and Lava Girl? What are they up to?
By logical extension, my place of employment should have a shower. Or better yet, I should bring a shower with me everywhere I go. I'm thinking a version like the one Daniel uses in The Karate Kid.
I haven't talked with children age 5 or so in a while. I wonder if they're as into karate and ninjas as my friends and I were back then. Also: do they watch Batman Begins or the Tim Burton movies? Shark Boy and Lava Girl? What are they up to?
Songs
Pressed this past weekend for examples of the "boyfriend vs. girlfriend" idea, I couldn't come up with very many examples. Here I will try to rectify that.
These distinctions might not be clear to anyone but me, but hopefully they shed some light on the matter. The Ani example might seem off-message, but I think a close listen will bring the reader/listener down into my camp. If this post clears nothing up at all, then it is like many others. Maybe we'll try this again someday.
Keep your powder dry, everybody!
Boyfriend -> Girlfriend
Dolly Parton - "Jolene"
Billy Stewart - "Summertime"
Cansei de Ser Sexy - "Music Is My Hot Hot Sex" (aka "that iPod Touch commercial song")
The Who - "The Kids Are Alright"
Sublime - "The Wrong Way"
The Misfits - "Skulls"
Warrant - "Cherry Pie"
Eminem feat. Obie Trice and 50 Cent - "Love Me"
The Hold Steady - Almost Killed Me, Separation Sunday
Bruce Springsteen - "Atlantic City"
Pixies - "Cactus"
Heart - "Crazy on You," "What About Love"
Chuck Berry - Entire catalog except "My Ding a Ling"
Ani DiFranco - "Both Hands"
Girlfriend -> Boyfriend
Cake - "Jolene"
Howard Huntsberry - "Higher and Higher"
Eddie Vedder/Pearl Jam - "Won't Back Down" Tom Petty Cover, "Given to Fly"
The Misfits - "Last Caress"
Sublime - "What I Got"
Hello Stranger - "Her in These Lights"
Warrant - "Cherry Pie"
Neko Case - all songs
The Hold Steady - Boys and Girls in America
Bruce Springsteen - "Born to Run"
Pixies - "Gigantic"
Heart - "Magic Man"
Chuck Berry - "My Ding a Ling"
Ani DiFranco - "Shy"
These distinctions might not be clear to anyone but me, but hopefully they shed some light on the matter. The Ani example might seem off-message, but I think a close listen will bring the reader/listener down into my camp. If this post clears nothing up at all, then it is like many others. Maybe we'll try this again someday.
Keep your powder dry, everybody!
Hitting the Books
I need to start reading again. Maybe some Mencken? Hunter Thompson read him and he's a Baltimore writer who gets referenced in The Wire. Maybe some Upton Sinclair. I heard the movie he made last year was good.
At any rate, I notice a pattern of spiralism whenever I don't read enough. I get bored with my own steez and my pituitary goes limp even when I'm typing at breakneck speeds. And what is writing for if not stimulation of the pituitary?
Back when I thought I wanted a PhD in Literature, I asked one of the few professors still willing to speak with me what he thought of my poetry. He took a glance at about 75 poems I'd brought to show him and said "You need to read more."
"Okay."
He basically called me a one-trick pony and said I needed to think about what poetry can do, what are the possibilities of the form. He lent me four rare and expensive journals of experimental poetry called "The Germ," and insisted I return them. I'm not going back to verse or anything but it's important for a guy to remember at various times that he's just a sideshow act.
Thanks, prof. Someday I'll send "The Germ" back to you. I haven't got it at the moment though.
At any rate, I notice a pattern of spiralism whenever I don't read enough. I get bored with my own steez and my pituitary goes limp even when I'm typing at breakneck speeds. And what is writing for if not stimulation of the pituitary?
Back when I thought I wanted a PhD in Literature, I asked one of the few professors still willing to speak with me what he thought of my poetry. He took a glance at about 75 poems I'd brought to show him and said "You need to read more."
"Okay."
He basically called me a one-trick pony and said I needed to think about what poetry can do, what are the possibilities of the form. He lent me four rare and expensive journals of experimental poetry called "The Germ," and insisted I return them. I'm not going back to verse or anything but it's important for a guy to remember at various times that he's just a sideshow act.
Thanks, prof. Someday I'll send "The Germ" back to you. I haven't got it at the moment though.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Social Rubdown Is Actually Sunset Rubdown
However, the idea of a social rubdown is more attractive. Thanks to "ced" for the comment.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
New Thing About Ninja Turtles
In one line from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, the mutants are walking through the sewer, presumably near their house.
Michaelangelo says something like "Where are we, 11th and Bleecker?" Then he sniffs, and says "Nope. This is only 9th Street. Get it?"
First of all, I don't get that joke.
Second, we can conclude from this piece of dialog that the Ninja Turtles live somewhere in downtown Manhattan, presumably within walking distance of the West Village. If they took the subway, they'd take the ACE. I always thought they were more East Village types but it was the 90s when the Turtles had their adventures. Those were different times.
I have some other things to discuss regarding Ninja Turtles but this is good for now.
Michaelangelo says something like "Where are we, 11th and Bleecker?" Then he sniffs, and says "Nope. This is only 9th Street. Get it?"
First of all, I don't get that joke.
Second, we can conclude from this piece of dialog that the Ninja Turtles live somewhere in downtown Manhattan, presumably within walking distance of the West Village. If they took the subway, they'd take the ACE. I always thought they were more East Village types but it was the 90s when the Turtles had their adventures. Those were different times.
I have some other things to discuss regarding Ninja Turtles but this is good for now.
Social Rubdown
I saw a band Thursday called Social Rubdown with an old college buddy (for the purpose of this blog post I am over 40 years old and therefore have "old college buddies"). The venue was a Masonic temple down the street from my house in Fort Greene. I chugged two beers before heading over and had several more at the show.
I'd never heard of Social Rubdown basically, so I asked my friend to rate them on a scale of 1 to 10 fame-wise, 1 being a band you see in a basement show and 10 being U2. He said 3 but I talked him up to 6 on the strength of Pitchfork knowing who they are. The lead singer also sings in a band called Wolf Mother or Wolf Parade or some band name with Wolf in it. They do a lot of waltzes, they have two keyboards and two sets of drums. The band members switch instruments in between songs. The lead singer has a sort of interesting voice.
Somehow the show gave off a college-y vibe to me, as though we were seeing Dispatch or Guster or even Ben Harper. I wasn't super won-over by the music but I liked watching the crowd and imagining that some of the people up front who were dancing and had their hands up in the air really love Social Rubdown.
A boyfriend-girlfriend duo, friends with my old college buddy, started cuddling together a little bit during the encore. I looked behind me and people had started pairing off in similar fashion. It occurred to me that there are two kinds of song: songs that make boyfriends want to fuck their girlfriends, and songs that make girlfriends want to fuck their boyfriends. Social Rubdown writes the second kind of song.
I'd never heard of Social Rubdown basically, so I asked my friend to rate them on a scale of 1 to 10 fame-wise, 1 being a band you see in a basement show and 10 being U2. He said 3 but I talked him up to 6 on the strength of Pitchfork knowing who they are. The lead singer also sings in a band called Wolf Mother or Wolf Parade or some band name with Wolf in it. They do a lot of waltzes, they have two keyboards and two sets of drums. The band members switch instruments in between songs. The lead singer has a sort of interesting voice.
Somehow the show gave off a college-y vibe to me, as though we were seeing Dispatch or Guster or even Ben Harper. I wasn't super won-over by the music but I liked watching the crowd and imagining that some of the people up front who were dancing and had their hands up in the air really love Social Rubdown.
A boyfriend-girlfriend duo, friends with my old college buddy, started cuddling together a little bit during the encore. I looked behind me and people had started pairing off in similar fashion. It occurred to me that there are two kinds of song: songs that make boyfriends want to fuck their girlfriends, and songs that make girlfriends want to fuck their boyfriends. Social Rubdown writes the second kind of song.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
The Misfits - Skulls
This is so funny. I'd embed it but they won't let me. But seriously. If you like skulls, love songs and MS Paint, you'll like this at least a little and probably a lot.
Okay One More Thing
Sharing a bottle of orange juice with a sick roommate has got to send mixed messages to your immune system.
Friendly New Phone
My seminew cell phone (Cheapo L3 with no camera, don't get too excited) flashes a green LED about every hour or so. I think it does this just to say everything's okay.
Temper's Good
I was on the phone with my mom and she asked me if I had any psychological problems lately. I said no.
"How's your temper?"
"Temper's good!"
"I worry about it, I guess when you're drinking." Bless her little heart.
"How's your temper?"
"Temper's good!"
"I worry about it, I guess when you're drinking." Bless her little heart.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Hubba Ledges
One piece of skateboarding lingo: "Hubba."
During the 90s, a famous spot called the "Hubba Hideout" featured a chest-high cement ledge that flanked a set of stairs. Pitched like a handrail but easier to balance on, it was sort of a benchmark spot. When Eric Koston backside noseblunted it, he was unofficially crowned the "king of Hubba."
It got its name from the crackheads who hung around below the stairs, which offered shelter from prying eyes as they smoked their "hubba."
Later, any high ledge that followed a staircase along its descent became a "hubba ledge."
Nowadays Hubba is a brand of wheels. In the proud history of Grind King, Fuct, Kikwear, and Shorty's Hardware, Hubba uses seminude models to hawk its wares. I guess the pun is "hubba hubba."
...STR8
During the 90s, a famous spot called the "Hubba Hideout" featured a chest-high cement ledge that flanked a set of stairs. Pitched like a handrail but easier to balance on, it was sort of a benchmark spot. When Eric Koston backside noseblunted it, he was unofficially crowned the "king of Hubba."
It got its name from the crackheads who hung around below the stairs, which offered shelter from prying eyes as they smoked their "hubba."
Later, any high ledge that followed a staircase along its descent became a "hubba ledge."
Nowadays Hubba is a brand of wheels. In the proud history of Grind King, Fuct, Kikwear, and Shorty's Hardware, Hubba uses seminude models to hawk its wares. I guess the pun is "hubba hubba."
...STR8
Inhibition Kills It
In a book I read about how to write (it's where I learned everything I know on the matter), the author says that you should not be afraid. Words on the page, the premise goes, are better than the empty void. I'm not sure that's always the case, but something gets lost when fear overtakes a writer and he or she is unwilling to confront what's afoot.
Sulks is taking brave steps in the direction of looseness, not all of which are painful (see final entry).
That's enough about that.
Sulks is taking brave steps in the direction of looseness, not all of which are painful (see final entry).
That's enough about that.
Hooray
I went to Subway instead of Chipotle for lunch today, which is probably the best decision I've made all week. It's important to note unqualified successes, no matter how small they might be.
Monday, March 24, 2008
I Love Being a Turtle!
I just remembered Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles**, the 1990 film that used Jim Henson puppetry to achieve lifelike teenage martial artist turtles. I was a big fan of this movie and at one point knew every line.
In one scene, some foot soldiers try to decapitate one of the turtles, Michaelangelo I think, and he tucks his head in his shell. When he resurfaces he yells "God, I love being a turtle!" He's getting pumped about being a turtle.
Also:
"Wise man say, forgiveness is divine, but never pay full price for late pizza."
Casey Jones calls the guys "Purse-grabbing pukes."
I like the vision of New York in that movie as well as the vision of teenagers. I don't think I have to elaborate on either one.
Add it to the canon.
**Astute readers will notice I don't have a good reason for using italics vs. quotes in naming works of art or other things. "I'm not about to give thanks or apologize."
In one scene, some foot soldiers try to decapitate one of the turtles, Michaelangelo I think, and he tucks his head in his shell. When he resurfaces he yells "God, I love being a turtle!" He's getting pumped about being a turtle.
Also:
"Wise man say, forgiveness is divine, but never pay full price for late pizza."
Casey Jones calls the guys "Purse-grabbing pukes."
I like the vision of New York in that movie as well as the vision of teenagers. I don't think I have to elaborate on either one.
Add it to the canon.
**Astute readers will notice I don't have a good reason for using italics vs. quotes in naming works of art or other things. "I'm not about to give thanks or apologize."
Sunday, March 23, 2008
After Years of Research I Think I've Figured It Out
In thin times, I listened to this, some songs by now-defunct and completely unfindable on the Internet High School Hellcats (I hope you girls are alright), G.G. Allin, The Barfeeders, Iron Maiden and Judas Priest.
It was sunny every day but I worked overnight shifts. I even had a punk band. We drank 40s and crashed parties.
Sulks came in from out of town one weekend and we spent a late night on a rooftop looking at the Potomac. That was just under four years ago.
Usher feat. Young Jeezy - Love in This Club
It used to be a weekly bonus round at the ideelz engine to combust whatever happened across the No. 1 spot on the Billboard charts. Now that non-entity T-Pain has finally been dragged off the king-of-the-mountain molehill, it's time to stop failing to give some artists the hundred-word-plus treatment.
Once again, T-Pain is not in the No. 1 slot. It's Usher, and it's Jeezy. And it's Love.
Back during Thug Motivation 101, Jeezy didn't go to clubs. There was no time to get laid. There was only time to sell crack. But that's alright. Everybody's got to loosen up and live a little.
When he did get lucky, Jeezy used to kick girls out by 3:45, but he's been hanging out with Usher a lot lately, and man, Usher gets laid. A lot. Girls actually call him. Jeezy asked Usher for some tips when they met on the set for a music video a couple weeks ago. In a real "My Fair Lady" moment, Usher took Jeezy to Ms. Beaucraft's Tea Room to show him some proper etiquette. When the coffee was served, Jeezy took a six-foot-long Crayzee Straw out of his pocket, but Ms. Beaucroft rapped his hands with a ruler. Pretty soon Jeezy was putting the napkin on his lap and saying "Pass the crudites, please."
After several more steps in the taming of Jeezy (including a trip to Men's Wearhouse), Usher finally figured Jeezy was ready to meet a real nice girl.
"Alright. We're ready to hit the club. No weed this time, Jeezy, no automatic weapons either. Leave the coke back at home. We're gonna get a girl that was raised right."
***
The music in the club is kinda fast, 120 bpm, and really loud. Jeezy puts in some earplugs and, despite Usher's admonitions, orders two Long Island Iced Teas from the bar. Sucking on the second lemon, he spots a young lady with delicate features. The highlights in her hair are accentuated by the black lights. She looks alone. So he walks over.
"Hey, you're beautiful." I wonder if Jeezy smokes, and that's why he's so raspy. Usher said this line would work, he thinks. He kind of trips over the "f" in beautiful.
"Hey." The girl notices this guy has big muscles and kind of looks familiar. She knows she's seen him before, but she doesn't know she saw him on Sucker Free Sunday in 2005. But she's not unreceptive.
Jeezy goes in for the kill. "You're beautiful / I bet you drink Beautifuls." This is a good trick. Everybody likes Beautifuls, and they're a little spendy, Cognac with GM and a cherry, so the club girls melt for this shit.
"I wouldn't mind one if you'd buy me one."
At the bar, two Beautifuls await. They await someone who actually ordered them but had to step aside to talk to a friend. Jeezy doesn't care. He hands one to the lady.
One thing leads to another, and because Usher said no cocaine, and Jeezy can't raise him on his cell, and the satin sheets he got from Victoria's Secret the other week (man, that was awkward) are actually pretty comfortable, Jeezy nestles his head into those fine highlights. The smell of hairspray lulls him into a deep sleep.
When he wakes up the next morning, birds are chirping. The beautiful girl is gone. But there's a note with her name and number: "Betty - 404-555-2020."
Usher showed Jeezy Swingers just the other day, so he knows he's got to play it cool. He goes for a jog then drives to the studio to do some ad-libs.
Usher's in the Virgin Islands for the next couple days, and Jeezy's hard-up for date ideas. He watches some "How I Met Your Mother" and "Two and a Half Men," which Usher TiVo'd for him, and learns about "dinner and a movie." He looks through the listings in The Onion A.V. Club - those guys really know their stuff - and sees "Funny Games" got an A-. It might be an A, the minus sign is a little smudged.
"'Funny Games'?!" Beautiful Betty says. My mom told me never to go to an R-rated movie with a man I just met, but what the hey, 'Funny Games' - how bad can it be?"
In the theater, Jeezy tries to put his arm around Betty right when the two preppy kids are forcing Naomi Watts to take off her clothes. Betty says she has to go to the bathroom and never comes back.
Jeezy stays in the theater to watch the rest of the movie. He kind of likes the opera they use at the beginning, and thinks about buying a house in Cape Cod. He's not sure if he's gonna hang out with Usher too much more. He's not ungrateful, he's just a busy guy.
****
[The keyboard line flows smoothly. Usher's voice is alright. Jeezy's verse is nothing too exciting, except the mention of the R-rated film and the use of "medicine" and "dose" metaphors. But mainly it isn't T-Pain.]
Once again, T-Pain is not in the No. 1 slot. It's Usher, and it's Jeezy. And it's Love.
Back during Thug Motivation 101, Jeezy didn't go to clubs. There was no time to get laid. There was only time to sell crack. But that's alright. Everybody's got to loosen up and live a little.
When he did get lucky, Jeezy used to kick girls out by 3:45, but he's been hanging out with Usher a lot lately, and man, Usher gets laid. A lot. Girls actually call him. Jeezy asked Usher for some tips when they met on the set for a music video a couple weeks ago. In a real "My Fair Lady" moment, Usher took Jeezy to Ms. Beaucraft's Tea Room to show him some proper etiquette. When the coffee was served, Jeezy took a six-foot-long Crayzee Straw out of his pocket, but Ms. Beaucroft rapped his hands with a ruler. Pretty soon Jeezy was putting the napkin on his lap and saying "Pass the crudites, please."
After several more steps in the taming of Jeezy (including a trip to Men's Wearhouse), Usher finally figured Jeezy was ready to meet a real nice girl.
"Alright. We're ready to hit the club. No weed this time, Jeezy, no automatic weapons either. Leave the coke back at home. We're gonna get a girl that was raised right."
***
The music in the club is kinda fast, 120 bpm, and really loud. Jeezy puts in some earplugs and, despite Usher's admonitions, orders two Long Island Iced Teas from the bar. Sucking on the second lemon, he spots a young lady with delicate features. The highlights in her hair are accentuated by the black lights. She looks alone. So he walks over.
"Hey, you're beautiful." I wonder if Jeezy smokes, and that's why he's so raspy. Usher said this line would work, he thinks. He kind of trips over the "f" in beautiful.
"Hey." The girl notices this guy has big muscles and kind of looks familiar. She knows she's seen him before, but she doesn't know she saw him on Sucker Free Sunday in 2005. But she's not unreceptive.
Jeezy goes in for the kill. "You're beautiful / I bet you drink Beautifuls." This is a good trick. Everybody likes Beautifuls, and they're a little spendy, Cognac with GM and a cherry, so the club girls melt for this shit.
"I wouldn't mind one if you'd buy me one."
At the bar, two Beautifuls await. They await someone who actually ordered them but had to step aside to talk to a friend. Jeezy doesn't care. He hands one to the lady.
One thing leads to another, and because Usher said no cocaine, and Jeezy can't raise him on his cell, and the satin sheets he got from Victoria's Secret the other week (man, that was awkward) are actually pretty comfortable, Jeezy nestles his head into those fine highlights. The smell of hairspray lulls him into a deep sleep.
When he wakes up the next morning, birds are chirping. The beautiful girl is gone. But there's a note with her name and number: "Betty - 404-555-2020."
Usher showed Jeezy Swingers just the other day, so he knows he's got to play it cool. He goes for a jog then drives to the studio to do some ad-libs.
Usher's in the Virgin Islands for the next couple days, and Jeezy's hard-up for date ideas. He watches some "How I Met Your Mother" and "Two and a Half Men," which Usher TiVo'd for him, and learns about "dinner and a movie." He looks through the listings in The Onion A.V. Club - those guys really know their stuff - and sees "Funny Games" got an A-. It might be an A, the minus sign is a little smudged.
"'Funny Games'?!" Beautiful Betty says. My mom told me never to go to an R-rated movie with a man I just met, but what the hey, 'Funny Games' - how bad can it be?"
In the theater, Jeezy tries to put his arm around Betty right when the two preppy kids are forcing Naomi Watts to take off her clothes. Betty says she has to go to the bathroom and never comes back.
Jeezy stays in the theater to watch the rest of the movie. He kind of likes the opera they use at the beginning, and thinks about buying a house in Cape Cod. He's not sure if he's gonna hang out with Usher too much more. He's not ungrateful, he's just a busy guy.
****
[The keyboard line flows smoothly. Usher's voice is alright. Jeezy's verse is nothing too exciting, except the mention of the R-rated film and the use of "medicine" and "dose" metaphors. But mainly it isn't T-Pain.]
Friday, March 21, 2008
They Want Me to Talk About Evan Alright?
He's just this real little, this real small guy. And he's good. He's the bomb diggity. He's the super bomb diggity dope. So let's just give it up for him. #
Home Run Derby: I'll Play Till Extra Innings
"You want the scars, but you don't want the war / That's just hardcore. / These kids are clever to the core."
-"Chicks Like Status," b-side, The Hold Steady
These three lines can be taken several different ways. They may mean, "You want to look tough, but you can't handle the fight." They may also mean, "You want to fight and get scars but you're opposed to fighting" (The War in title case, maybe).
The image of a tattoo comes to mind in either case. A tattoo is a scar you get without fighting. It's self-inflicted, too, which means the bearer had to make some specific decisions to get it.
----
An acquaintance of mine has many frightening tattoos on his biceps. He also has no body fat to speak of, and he's written about starving himself to look beautiful. He worked for a famous and highly intellectual publication for some years. He chews gum manically and speaks in a clipped tone.
Because of his connections to the New York publishing circuit, he's often invited to such fancy wine-and-cheese events as I occasionally attend. He wears wifebeaters and skin-tight pants to these functions. In short, he looks wholly different from just about all the slouching, tall, thin boys who are also in attendance. The tattoos are on prominent display. He talks for a couple minutes to friends but cuts conversations short to talk to women at length.
His tattoos basically say, "If you're bored with the boys you'd meet here, you might want to try me out instead."
----
My coworkers this week asked me about my haircut. I'd flip-flopped facial for head, meaning I chopped of my longish thinning mess and let my beard grow out for a couple days. One person told me I should shave.
"Haven't you heard the Aesop fable about the cat who shaves his whiskers to look handsome?"
"No, what are you talking about."
"It killed his reflexes and he couldn't catch any mice."
----
Several times this week I got the wrong change from the vending machine. One time, a Coke only cost 45 cents. Another, someone had deposited a quarter in the machine without completing the transaction, so I put a dollar in and got 75 cents back.
A vending machine with only one quarter in it. Did the person run out of money? Get distracted? Or just forget that he was there for a soda and move on with his life?
----
When I lived in New Hampshire, from ages four to seven, I had a forest for a backyard. There was an abandoned maple house out in the forest, and some older boys and I would go out there with wood they took from their fathers, some hammers, and nails, and try to fix up the maple house so we could use it to plan adventures. I took my dad out there one time, and I think he told the older boys' parents where their hammers and nails had gone off to.
----
I was drinking coffee in the park this afternoon. A father walked with his son, and the son climbed to the top of a green cement thing that looked like a defunct water fountain. When he got to the top of the thing he did a "Suck It!" hand gesture a couple times and then jumped off.
----
In a book called Arkansas I read recently, a main character, Svin, gets a plus sign and a minus sign tattooed on each shoulder. That's a pretty corny move.
----
I'm still learning the ropes and rules of professionalism.
----
Last night I attended a standup comedy performance hosted by kids who had attended college together. I thought it was funny, but at the end the emcee apologized "for all the inside jokes." Now I'm not so sure it was really funny.
----
I took a cab home from midtown last night.
----
I made a promise to myself when I was 17 that I would not change certain things about myself, but I've forgotten since what was so important to me at the time.
----
I watched The Cable Guy (with Jim Carrey, not Larry the Cable Guy) today.
----
In other countries, people put Alhamdoulilah on the sides of their taxi cabs. I think that they do this so that they'll be protected from crashes. In America, some people put pictures or statues of saints on their dashboards to protect them. I wonder if hanging dice in the mirror is just a more mathematical or casino-oriented version of that idea.
----
I saw "The Kiss," by Gustav Klimt, and I think it's my favorite painting.
----
A friend of mine has a good joke on his away message most of the time: "Fool me 34 times, shame on you."
----
At the comedy show, one guy did some lefty songs with small jokes in them about how scarily conservative Mike Huckabee is. His voice actually sounded at times like that of Phil Ochs, one of my favorite protest singers. But after the show when we went out to drinks my friends and I were all pretty mad that he'd done political humor. His songs were pretty cheesy.
Phil Ochs has a good song about that feeling, called "Love Me, I'm a Liberal."
----
I was reminded today of a man who'd frequent the bar in Tacoma. He was old and had been in the navy. He remembered those days fondly, saying that he and his buddies would just party all the time when he was younger. He was one of those drunks who has a life philosophy to share, at length. The kind of life philosophy that winds its way in circles and includes phrases as "We're all different," and "But we all gotta live together." Also a lot of curses.
Another talkative customer was Three Finger Jack, former owner of the Tides Tavern who eventually became Tacoma's most famous street performer. He played guitar, sang, and sold CDs outside performing arts centers and would live off whatever people would throw at him. On his strumming hand, he was missing three fingers but could still hold a pick. He had contempt for homeless people that begged him for money after he finished playing. "I work for this," he said.
Another customer with a deformity was named Dave. He had written songs for some famous performers in the 1980s and was living off the royalties and making more by continuing to make modestly successful solo albums. He was born with a deformed right arm that was frozen crooked at the elbow. He didn't have a forearm but had a small, thin hand shaped like a mitten nestled right into the crook. The day I met him, I held out my right hand for him to shake. He grabbed it firmly in his mitten-hand and looked me right in the eye. I admired him for that, but when he stopped tipping me after a couple of weeks I got tired of seeing him.
The last customer I'm going to write about right now was a single mother who came into the bar after being kicked out of one down the street. She was hammered and had been fighting with someone, maybe an ex boyfriend, and was sitting at our bar either hiding or waiting for a ride. The cook got off work and began buying her drinks. She showed me a picture of her eight-year-old girl then gave me a kiss on the forehead before falling off the stool and showing the owner's girlfriend a tattoo on her inner thigh.
----
Crack! Goes the Bat.
----
Another painting I really like:
"Mont Sainte Victoire" by Cezanne.
----
In Children of Men, the hippies are right, for once, about the need for revolution, but they still seem crazy to the regular people going about their business. The people who stand the best chance of tearing down injustice may want to replace it with something unreasonable or stupid, but that doesn't make them wrong about current evils. It makes me wonder if at some point we'll need to listen to the people on the fringes and start throwing rocks.
----
I've started listening to Soundgarden again, specifically "Pretty Noose." In high school, a friend talked about how surprising Kim Thayil's tremolo picking was on that solo. "Surprising."
----
I ordered some new trucks for my skateboard.
----
A French poet named Georges Perec one time sat in a cafe at Saint Sulpice and tried to write down every possible thing that happened in that spot for a given span of time. He'd note the time of each event. First liveblogger.
----
A guy I knew who dealt drugs once had a gun in his face. He lived, but he bought a gun after that.
I don't buy guns.
Milwaukee High School Art Rock Soldiers On
On the unfortunately named but talented Darma Bumz:
Patrick: http://www.myspace.com/animacrackers
me: this is good!
Patrick: haha yeah
they have so many shows too right now
it's pretty fun
i love when theres two people singing
at the same time
me: it's pretty cerebral
a little too much
it was better when it was just rock
Patrick: yeah they're like that
yeah they get all their inspiration from ap english
me: lose the synth
hahahahahaha
that's hilarious
Patrick: http://www.myspace.com/animacrackers
me: this is good!
Patrick: haha yeah
they have so many shows too right now
it's pretty fun
i love when theres two people singing
at the same time
me: it's pretty cerebral
a little too much
it was better when it was just rock
Patrick: yeah they're like that
yeah they get all their inspiration from ap english
me: lose the synth
hahahahahaha
that's hilarious
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Enrique Lorenzo's Song in Round 2
For eight years I've wondered what beautiful Spanish song Enrique Lorenzo skateboards to in Rodney Mullen vs. Daewon Song: Round 2. The answer is "Como tu ninguna" by Niña Pastori. If there was a straight YouTube of the thing I'd embed it. But for now we'll just have to deal with hyperlinks to the montage from Round 2.
What a load off my mind. I love the kids singing in the chorus.
This means, from my limited Spanish ability and some help from AltaVista, "from here to there it moves in the cradle from here to there like the moon shines from here to there it moves in the cradle (here's where I really lose it) and to the compass there's no one like you."
Apparently it's flamenco. Maybe that's not even Spanish. Maybe it's Catalan. Now Catalan, that's a language I can get behind.
Here's the h-link as promised. The chorus happens at about 3:30.
I haven't heard any more of the song than what you get in that clip. A problem to be regulated.
What a load off my mind. I love the kids singing in the chorus.
de aquà p'alla se mueve en la cuna
de aquà p'alla como flor de luna
de aquà p'alla se mueve en la cuna
y al compás como tu ninguna
This means, from my limited Spanish ability and some help from AltaVista, "from here to there it moves in the cradle from here to there like the moon shines from here to there it moves in the cradle (here's where I really lose it) and to the compass there's no one like you."
Apparently it's flamenco. Maybe that's not even Spanish. Maybe it's Catalan. Now Catalan, that's a language I can get behind.
Here's the h-link as promised. The chorus happens at about 3:30.
I haven't heard any more of the song than what you get in that clip. A problem to be regulated.
Sell Out in a Different Way
In Moveable, which is the last book I read, and yes I read it more than a month ago, Hemingway gets angry at Fitzgerald for prostituting his writing out to the booksellers to finance his lifestyle and otherwise get by.
Not that I'm either of them but I do wonder about how writing within certain constraints limits the imagination. I write a fair amount every day, probably between 1500 and 2000 words, maybe more, but mainly I put a lot of sentences together that say, "'The subject did the verb,' he said." I'm certainly very confident in my ability to write that kind of sentence, more so than I was when I started this job, but how valuable is that?
More worrisome, perhaps: There are a lot of writing conventions at this place that I disagree with. I don't like phrases that start with "amid" or clauses that start with "as." I've managed to steer clear of the former, but the latter has been fairly unavoidable. In journalism, you don't want to say something is caused by something even if you believe it to be true, because that ruins objectivity and accuracy. So people pretend like they're not drawing a causal line (even though they are) with these words.
There are other examples. Gerunds get a bit too much play, although not for any particular reason. And people get hooked on stringing sub clauses and modifiers one after the other in stream-of-consciousness fashion. I can't tell if hating those moves is just a personal stylistic quirk of mine, but it concerns me a bit that I might be on the many-gerund path.
Overall, though, can't complain about getting $$ for having my fingers on the home row. I just got a little nervous when my grandmother asked me the other week whether I was still writing for myself, sending fiction off for publication. I told her no, that my priorities had realigned, and that I liked the writing I was getting paid for. It occurs to me now that liking it and being proud of it are two separate ideas.
But that's what blogging's for, I guess.
Straight to video, as Sulks would say.
Not that I'm either of them but I do wonder about how writing within certain constraints limits the imagination. I write a fair amount every day, probably between 1500 and 2000 words, maybe more, but mainly I put a lot of sentences together that say, "'The subject did the verb,' he said." I'm certainly very confident in my ability to write that kind of sentence, more so than I was when I started this job, but how valuable is that?
More worrisome, perhaps: There are a lot of writing conventions at this place that I disagree with. I don't like phrases that start with "amid" or clauses that start with "as." I've managed to steer clear of the former, but the latter has been fairly unavoidable. In journalism, you don't want to say something is caused by something even if you believe it to be true, because that ruins objectivity and accuracy. So people pretend like they're not drawing a causal line (even though they are) with these words.
There are other examples. Gerunds get a bit too much play, although not for any particular reason. And people get hooked on stringing sub clauses and modifiers one after the other in stream-of-consciousness fashion. I can't tell if hating those moves is just a personal stylistic quirk of mine, but it concerns me a bit that I might be on the many-gerund path.
Overall, though, can't complain about getting $$ for having my fingers on the home row. I just got a little nervous when my grandmother asked me the other week whether I was still writing for myself, sending fiction off for publication. I told her no, that my priorities had realigned, and that I liked the writing I was getting paid for. It occurs to me now that liking it and being proud of it are two separate ideas.
But that's what blogging's for, I guess.
Straight to video, as Sulks would say.
We Were Fans Back Then
Every day for the past year or so, my once-rampant Pearl Jam fandom continued to reach new lows. The enthusiasm hit bottom the day before yesterday, because yesterday I decided I should look at some YouTubes of "Corduroy." Little of this, little of that, and soon I was on "Yellow Ledbetter."
The song, like "Release," I think, showcases lyrical improvisation. From what I hear, Vedder just one-taked the vocals on the studio track, and the song has served as a blueprint for continual revisions since. Eddie rarely sings it the same way twice, although he sings it in very similar ways every time.
[interlude]
In this way the song is a cousin to "Whiskey in the Jar" and "Summertime," songs that bear the marks of traditionals in that they can be continually revamped and twisted into different instrumentations and even lyrics without losing their base appeal.
This song is different, though, because I think Pearl Jam has to play it each time. They're free to take some serious liberties with it, but mainly it has to bear their stamp and they can't even screw with the structure too much. Anyway, "Ledbetter," "Whiskey" and "Summertime" are still in the same extended family.
[/interlude]
"Ledbetter" embodies what I loved about Pearl Jam when I really loved them. The song is just a simple one-five-four and the guitar solo is wholeheartedly pentatonic. Pearl Jam is often characterized as simple, but I've never seen a band trump their chemsitry live, and it's in the simple songs they expand the farthest.
Beyond the sense, live, that the band really is (was?) capable of flying on the seat of its pants and bringing the audience with them, though, I am attracted to Pearl Jam for their desire to be loved. Their songs and live performances almost beg people to sing along, to wonder whether McCready is going come up with something just slightly different on the next solo, to see what Vedder's going to do after the last verse is done. The message was, "It feels good for us that you love this. Love it some more." And people came on board.
The historical-biographical problem quickly crops up; it might just be that my brain chemistry was such that I bought in to the stage antics and the simplicity and the earnestness back then, and other bands have it now but I just can't see it. "If it's too loud, you're too old," etc. I'm willing right now, though, to indulge the idea that I had something special on my hands from about 1998 to 2003.
And just for fun, "Untitled/MFC." I listened to this every day before school in Senegal with headphones on and would sing on my host family's balcony. They made fun of me because I am not a very good singer. But whatever, fuck em.
The song, like "Release," I think, showcases lyrical improvisation. From what I hear, Vedder just one-taked the vocals on the studio track, and the song has served as a blueprint for continual revisions since. Eddie rarely sings it the same way twice, although he sings it in very similar ways every time.
[interlude]
In this way the song is a cousin to "Whiskey in the Jar" and "Summertime," songs that bear the marks of traditionals in that they can be continually revamped and twisted into different instrumentations and even lyrics without losing their base appeal.
This song is different, though, because I think Pearl Jam has to play it each time. They're free to take some serious liberties with it, but mainly it has to bear their stamp and they can't even screw with the structure too much. Anyway, "Ledbetter," "Whiskey" and "Summertime" are still in the same extended family.
[/interlude]
"Ledbetter" embodies what I loved about Pearl Jam when I really loved them. The song is just a simple one-five-four and the guitar solo is wholeheartedly pentatonic. Pearl Jam is often characterized as simple, but I've never seen a band trump their chemsitry live, and it's in the simple songs they expand the farthest.
Beyond the sense, live, that the band really is (was?) capable of flying on the seat of its pants and bringing the audience with them, though, I am attracted to Pearl Jam for their desire to be loved. Their songs and live performances almost beg people to sing along, to wonder whether McCready is going come up with something just slightly different on the next solo, to see what Vedder's going to do after the last verse is done. The message was, "It feels good for us that you love this. Love it some more." And people came on board.
The historical-biographical problem quickly crops up; it might just be that my brain chemistry was such that I bought in to the stage antics and the simplicity and the earnestness back then, and other bands have it now but I just can't see it. "If it's too loud, you're too old," etc. I'm willing right now, though, to indulge the idea that I had something special on my hands from about 1998 to 2003.
And just for fun, "Untitled/MFC." I listened to this every day before school in Senegal with headphones on and would sing on my host family's balcony. They made fun of me because I am not a very good singer. But whatever, fuck em.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Shadow Boxing, Not the Song
The construction site next door has floodlights overlooking the courtyard, which has a pool or a fountain in it.
Standing in my backyard, I saw the shadow of the security guard cast against the entirety of a five-story condo as he stooped to pick something up. I have two ideas because of this:
1) A shadow boxing match between two thirty-foot-tall opponents would be worth watching.
2) A reenactment of the tent scene in Robin Hood: Men in Tights, or even some actual silhouette sex, would be much funnier on such an enormous scale.
Standing in my backyard, I saw the shadow of the security guard cast against the entirety of a five-story condo as he stooped to pick something up. I have two ideas because of this:
1) A shadow boxing match between two thirty-foot-tall opponents would be worth watching.
2) A reenactment of the tent scene in Robin Hood: Men in Tights, or even some actual silhouette sex, would be much funnier on such an enormous scale.
Mega Maid
In the wake of the Brazilian invasion, I decided to tuck a meter back on the site, off to the right, where it wouldn't get hurt by such eventualities as me blogging too much or me widening my blog (which somehow has hurt little sitemeter in the past).
So be warned, we'll be checking ideez at the door from now on.
So be warned, we'll be checking ideez at the door from now on.
Going Brazilian (With Hugs!)
An engineer helps with the Internet infrastructure buildout in Sao Paolo.
One of the zero South American readers Sitemeter has been telling me about commented on my last post about crack spreads (which, for better and worse, makes me think of Brazilian crack spreads). Here's the comment:
Hello. This post is likeable, and your blog is very interesting, congratulations :-). I will add in my blogroll =). If possible gives a last there on my blog, it is about the MP3 e MP4, I hope you enjoy. The address is http://mp3-mp4-brasil.blogspot.com. A hug. (emphasis added; also note the use of two distinct smiley faces)
I'm big in Brazil, bigger among one-off mp3 gadget blogs in Portuguese. It might not seem like much now, but I hear it's a growing, warm market replete with topless beaches.
I'd feel weird promoting this because it may just be the kind of spamming of blogs I did for Radar's Web site back in the day, but we (Brazil and I) are in this together. And if Tulio, the foreign exchange student I befriended in 2001, is in any way involved, I have to help. Tulio was an excellent ping-pong player, and once told me he was the prince of Brazil. I asked him how many servants he had.
"186 million."
Thanks for reading, Brazil. You're in the "Friendlies" section.
Update: I was being spammed.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
How to Carry On Skateboarding
Opening onto the center of a playground there is a yellow hexagonal bench that serves as the base of a flagpole. Skateboarders occasionally do tricks on this concrete structure, and this wears off the paint.
Someone - probably a maintenance person - occasionally emerges from the elementary school with a can of yellow paint to fix the minor tarnishes and conceal the exposed gray underneath. This, incidentally, reslicks the surface, rendering it once again skatable.
On this playground there are three other permanent structures that make the spot appealing to skateboarders. Because the park is below sidewalk level, the surface banks slightly uphill from the hopscotch courts toward the chain-link fence at the entrance. A skateboarder can ride up this shallow bank, do a trick, then ride back down. This is a good way to practice new maneuvers. The other two permanent structures are platforms, one at each set of firedoors that opens up onto the asphalt. These are useful for practicing manuals or for just jumping on and off.
The most useful obstacles, or at least the ones I find most appealing, are whatever debris has been discarded or forgotten on the playground. I've at times employed a fallen branch, a construction cone or boxes used to transport produce for the simple purpose of jumping them. None of these objects are impressively high, but I am not an impressive skater.
When it rains or is wet outside, it's unwise to skateboard, because the moisture will warp the board and make it soggy, which makes doing tricks more difficult. Also, getting mud on the grip tape makes it lose friction and creates problems of board control. It's also difficult to skate during the winter because falling on the pavement in the cold is recipe for injury, particularly when you are not young and light.
When the sun comes out, though, there are very few excuses.
Someone - probably a maintenance person - occasionally emerges from the elementary school with a can of yellow paint to fix the minor tarnishes and conceal the exposed gray underneath. This, incidentally, reslicks the surface, rendering it once again skatable.
On this playground there are three other permanent structures that make the spot appealing to skateboarders. Because the park is below sidewalk level, the surface banks slightly uphill from the hopscotch courts toward the chain-link fence at the entrance. A skateboarder can ride up this shallow bank, do a trick, then ride back down. This is a good way to practice new maneuvers. The other two permanent structures are platforms, one at each set of firedoors that opens up onto the asphalt. These are useful for practicing manuals or for just jumping on and off.
The most useful obstacles, or at least the ones I find most appealing, are whatever debris has been discarded or forgotten on the playground. I've at times employed a fallen branch, a construction cone or boxes used to transport produce for the simple purpose of jumping them. None of these objects are impressively high, but I am not an impressive skater.
When it rains or is wet outside, it's unwise to skateboard, because the moisture will warp the board and make it soggy, which makes doing tricks more difficult. Also, getting mud on the grip tape makes it lose friction and creates problems of board control. It's also difficult to skate during the winter because falling on the pavement in the cold is recipe for injury, particularly when you are not young and light.
When the sun comes out, though, there are very few excuses.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Their Minds Were All the Same and to Conquer Was Their Goal
I've shot guns on one occasion. I decided today that guns are fun and all, but what I really want to shoot is a bazooka.
Slushy Funds 2
The Sequel
Down to the last ten-note on the initial withdrawal, I grabbed another hundred last night, but left it whole the entire evening.
----
Craig Finn's basic reason for writing is that people are shooting for fun and widely missing. He gets the most angry and mean when someone does something he knows is wrong, or at least doesn't want to do.
----
I was at a DUMBO office for a party last night. The large windows looked on the Manhattan Bridge, which shone its lights on its way into the city.
----
I may literally be starting a career as someone who points out mistakes.
----
Had a good conversation with some very respectful and beautiful elders last night. We talked about the old days of Esquire and The Observer, when reporters started stories with anecdotes and taking down the big boys was a matter of course.
----
Remember "We're Only Going to Die From Our Ignorance"? Addendum: The title might actually be "We're Only Gonna Die for Our Arrogance."
Down to the last ten-note on the initial withdrawal, I grabbed another hundred last night, but left it whole the entire evening.
----
Craig Finn's basic reason for writing is that people are shooting for fun and widely missing. He gets the most angry and mean when someone does something he knows is wrong, or at least doesn't want to do.
----
I was at a DUMBO office for a party last night. The large windows looked on the Manhattan Bridge, which shone its lights on its way into the city.
----
I may literally be starting a career as someone who points out mistakes.
----
Had a good conversation with some very respectful and beautiful elders last night. We talked about the old days of Esquire and The Observer, when reporters started stories with anecdotes and taking down the big boys was a matter of course.
----
Remember "We're Only Going to Die From Our Ignorance"? Addendum: The title might actually be "We're Only Gonna Die for Our Arrogance."
Didascalies
That's the French word for stage directions.
A: She said you're a bon vivant.
B: A what?
C: You know, you've got joie de vivre.
B: Oh! Joie de vivre.
C: Didn't you used to speak French?
A: She said you're a bon vivant.
B: A what?
C: You know, you've got joie de vivre.
B: Oh! Joie de vivre.
C: Didn't you used to speak French?
"Timing Is a Bitch"
It was Thanksgiving weekend, I think, either one year ago or the one before. My mom's side of the family had congregated at a Leesburg, Virginia restaurant to eat steak. I was standing outside of a filling station across the road with my sister, smoking a cigarette.
She tried to flick some ash.
"You lost your cherry."
"What will they think of me."
She tried to flick some ash.
"You lost your cherry."
"What will they think of me."
Friday, March 14, 2008
Never Don't Go
He sniffed.
"How you feeling? Better?"
"What, with my illness? Better, yeah. Mostly it's bad in the midafternoon. I shouldn't go out tonight, but."
"Just don't drink a lot. I'm not going to drink a lot."
"Yeah I won't drink a lot."
"But that said --"
"I'm gonna drink some."
"How you feeling? Better?"
"What, with my illness? Better, yeah. Mostly it's bad in the midafternoon. I shouldn't go out tonight, but."
"Just don't drink a lot. I'm not going to drink a lot."
"Yeah I won't drink a lot."
"But that said --"
"I'm gonna drink some."
Billy Stewart vs. Pixies
So probably other people know this but I just observed that Frank Black lifted "Your daddy's rich, your mama's a pretty thing" from "Summertime."
You can hate me now, but I won't stop now.
You can hate me now, but I won't stop now.
Summertime
PuffyShoe came across this at some point in the summer of 2006. From that point it was constantly in the rotation along with "Make It Rain," "Kickstart My Heart," "Hate Love Songs," and of course the entire Hold Steady thing.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Howard Huntsberry - "Higher and Higher"
The aforementioned Ghostbusters II song. YouTube slideshow.
Oh wait here's the scene itself. "We're gonna squeeze some juice from ya, Big Apple!"
"Don't worry. She's tough. She's a harbor chick."
Oh wait here's the scene itself. "We're gonna squeeze some juice from ya, Big Apple!"
"Don't worry. She's tough. She's a harbor chick."
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Slushy Funds
Since December, I believe, an envelope sat in the top drawer of my bureau. In that envelope were six hundred-dollar bills, the fruits of my efforts at a poker table in Atlantic City.
Until today, the contents of that envelope had been set aside for investment in a quarterly journal several of my friends had spoken at length about starting.
This morning I woke up and did some busywork, got in the shower, dressed, and slipped one of the hundreds out of the envelope and into my wallet. Today I invested part of that capital in a foot-long steak and cheese sandwich from Subway and some more of it in two slices of pepperoni pizza and a Coke.
----
When I lived in Tacoma one of my friends enjoyed very much the sentence "That's not my problem." One day after I had behaved badly to some of his friends (so badly, in their eyes, that they never wanted to see me again), I asked him why he couldn't stick up for me and convince them to give me another chance. "Why is it my problem, what they think of you?" he asked. I remember that after I'd asked him this favor his face lit up a little bit, as though finally an opportunity to use his favorite phrase had arisen.
The day I left for New York, he told me to call him when I got there. I have not.
----
Eliot Spitzer this week was exposed as a patron of prostitutes. I can't say I feel bad for him but I can't say I'm on the side of those that are talking him down either.
----
I can't seem to find the knit cap that fit my head, so I'm back to wearing the Mariners beanie that rides up.
----
A friend of mine, Robert, moved to Hawaii for several weeks on a ticket his ex-girlfriend had bought for him. She had thought at the time that they would move there together, probably to get married. He dumped her before they could implement that plan and eventually realized he could still use the ticket.
On his return he told everyone at the bar that they should come join him in Hawaii. "You can get a job so easily there," he said. He was an electrician.
----
"The city exploded into power and property and pleasure. Expanding only fast enough to avoid recollapse."
----
My roommate from freshman year in college sent a letter to a mutual friend in Montana the other week. The envelope was the frilly kind one uses for sending wedding invitations. Our friend's mother was delighted that my roommate might be getting married. As it turns out, though, he was just being frugal by reusing an envelope that had been sent to him some weeks prior.
----
In D.C. this weekend several friends discussed the merits of the Ghostbusters II song, the one during which the Statue of Liberty comes to life and saves New York from the flowing ooze of negativity that brought the evil demon Zul to life.
I heard that song on "Mad Money" at work today. I tried to tell my boss about Ghostbusters II but he was pretty uninterested.
----
One post I deleted had a picture of a girl that had appeared on Facebook. The caption read, "Hi! I'm cute. [...] I am also handicapped."
I had written below it, "You have a choice. Things can either be funny, or sad."
Today I slipped on a banana peel. Okay not really.
----
Remember MarioKart?
Until today, the contents of that envelope had been set aside for investment in a quarterly journal several of my friends had spoken at length about starting.
This morning I woke up and did some busywork, got in the shower, dressed, and slipped one of the hundreds out of the envelope and into my wallet. Today I invested part of that capital in a foot-long steak and cheese sandwich from Subway and some more of it in two slices of pepperoni pizza and a Coke.
----
When I lived in Tacoma one of my friends enjoyed very much the sentence "That's not my problem." One day after I had behaved badly to some of his friends (so badly, in their eyes, that they never wanted to see me again), I asked him why he couldn't stick up for me and convince them to give me another chance. "Why is it my problem, what they think of you?" he asked. I remember that after I'd asked him this favor his face lit up a little bit, as though finally an opportunity to use his favorite phrase had arisen.
The day I left for New York, he told me to call him when I got there. I have not.
----
Eliot Spitzer this week was exposed as a patron of prostitutes. I can't say I feel bad for him but I can't say I'm on the side of those that are talking him down either.
----
I can't seem to find the knit cap that fit my head, so I'm back to wearing the Mariners beanie that rides up.
----
A friend of mine, Robert, moved to Hawaii for several weeks on a ticket his ex-girlfriend had bought for him. She had thought at the time that they would move there together, probably to get married. He dumped her before they could implement that plan and eventually realized he could still use the ticket.
On his return he told everyone at the bar that they should come join him in Hawaii. "You can get a job so easily there," he said. He was an electrician.
----
"The city exploded into power and property and pleasure. Expanding only fast enough to avoid recollapse."
----
My roommate from freshman year in college sent a letter to a mutual friend in Montana the other week. The envelope was the frilly kind one uses for sending wedding invitations. Our friend's mother was delighted that my roommate might be getting married. As it turns out, though, he was just being frugal by reusing an envelope that had been sent to him some weeks prior.
----
In D.C. this weekend several friends discussed the merits of the Ghostbusters II song, the one during which the Statue of Liberty comes to life and saves New York from the flowing ooze of negativity that brought the evil demon Zul to life.
I heard that song on "Mad Money" at work today. I tried to tell my boss about Ghostbusters II but he was pretty uninterested.
----
One post I deleted had a picture of a girl that had appeared on Facebook. The caption read, "Hi! I'm cute. [...] I am also handicapped."
I had written below it, "You have a choice. Things can either be funny, or sad."
Today I slipped on a banana peel. Okay not really.
----
Remember MarioKart?
Brief Lapse
This is probably already a joke, but this is probably just a blog.
A woman stood on Wall and Broadway today holding a sign that said "You Have to Be a True Catholic to Get to Heaven." Who would want to spend eternity with a bunch of uptight assholes?
A woman stood on Wall and Broadway today holding a sign that said "You Have to Be a True Catholic to Get to Heaven." Who would want to spend eternity with a bunch of uptight assholes?
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Three Things About "Modern Girls"
One is possibly true: The Strokes are old-fashioned men and Spektor is a modern girl.
One is possibly false: The song has been at times called "Postmodern Girls and Old-Fashioned Men."
One is almost definitely false: Julian Casablancas and Regina Spektor were married for a few months.
One is possibly false: The song has been at times called "Postmodern Girls and Old-Fashioned Men."
One is almost definitely false: Julian Casablancas and Regina Spektor were married for a few months.
Grindhouse
Went to the grindhouse this weekend, by which I mean I saw Planet Terror and Death Proof. Both were pretty awesome and did a good job of throwing in some surprises that helped them transcend the problem of basic homage. For instance, the anachronism of the cell phones was pretty jarring, as was placing a washed-up stuntman from the 70s into present day. I even liked the transitions from one kind of film stock (is that what that is?) to another. (I've dug the motif of anachronism since Ghost Dog I think, even though its brand of anachro is different.)
It's too bad those movies are expensive and that, from what I hear, the Weinsteins were pretty pissed off because they didn't make enough in the theaters. Sorta frustrating, given that the 70s movies Tarantino and Rodriguez were "doing" had pretty low budgets, if I understand things properly.
It's too bad those movies are expensive and that, from what I hear, the Weinsteins were pretty pissed off because they didn't make enough in the theaters. Sorta frustrating, given that the 70s movies Tarantino and Rodriguez were "doing" had pretty low budgets, if I understand things properly.
Markups
There's a scene in A Moveable Feast where Hemingway meets a literary figure in a cafe. He describes the man as "marked for death," and even says something along the lines of "go away with your marked-for-death-ass face."
People seem to like Hemingway for his stoicism, so it's a little crazy for him to be unwilling to deal with the face of a man marked for death, particularly after the war.
Also, it's hard, having read that, not to start dividing people up into the ones that are marked for death and the ones that aren't. It's hard to know how to feel about the ones that are.
Ways of marking things for death:
-Buying Crayola brand death marker (non-washable, toxic)
-Using a laser site
-Blogging
People seem to like Hemingway for his stoicism, so it's a little crazy for him to be unwilling to deal with the face of a man marked for death, particularly after the war.
Also, it's hard, having read that, not to start dividing people up into the ones that are marked for death and the ones that aren't. It's hard to know how to feel about the ones that are.
Ways of marking things for death:
-Buying Crayola brand death marker (non-washable, toxic)
-Using a laser site
-Blogging
Brutal
Bumcakes: what's your quote from?
Sent at 11:27 PM on Sunday
me: lifter puller song called "nassau coliseum"
Bumcakes: I'm always worried about professors or someone seeing my quote
me: hehe
i don't have those
and i just let it fly anyway
freedom of speech, bro
Bumcakes: yeah.
although that quote is pretty brutal
me: yeah
i felt kinda brutal when i put it up
Sent at 11:27 PM on Sunday
me: lifter puller song called "nassau coliseum"
Bumcakes: I'm always worried about professors or someone seeing my quote
me: hehe
i don't have those
and i just let it fly anyway
freedom of speech, bro
Bumcakes: yeah.
although that quote is pretty brutal
me: yeah
i felt kinda brutal when i put it up
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Coughin Up That New York City Cool
and we all woke up at the airport
in the arcade on the western concourse
that's when she said that we should do this all over
she wipes the blood from her mouth with her shoulder
said i could use a little diet cola
or maybe just a little lifter puller
Circumstances led me to DC this weekend. The city is much the same as it ever was. I'll be back at the helm of this behemoth after the tack is complete.
in the arcade on the western concourse
that's when she said that we should do this all over
she wipes the blood from her mouth with her shoulder
said i could use a little diet cola
or maybe just a little lifter puller
Circumstances led me to DC this weekend. The city is much the same as it ever was. I'll be back at the helm of this behemoth after the tack is complete.
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Monday, March 03, 2008
Guys? ... Guys?
Sitemeter sticker has once again fallen off. Only this time, it's taken all the viewers with it.
According to its calculations, no one even visits the ideelz factory by accident anymore! Surely there is some kind of conspiracy afoot here.
Okay time to go for a jog.
Keep in touch baby!
According to its calculations, no one even visits the ideelz factory by accident anymore! Surely there is some kind of conspiracy afoot here.
Okay time to go for a jog.
Keep in touch baby!
Sunday, March 02, 2008
Jolene
A couple years ago in DC I still thought I could sing and play guitar. One song, Dolly Parton's "Jolene," inspired me. I learned the melody and sat around going do mi, do mi, etc., trying to learn to sing with my mouth open and my throat open, but I don't even have one octave's worth of range out there. So I gave up guitar and singing and moved to Tacoma.
Parton feels old-school in that she cracks actual funny jokes, she gets up there and smiles real big for everyone and tries to give some joy back to the people watching. She performed at the Oscars or the Grammies a while ago. I think the song was about God and love. Anyway, Dolly Parton is real.
Prior to that flirtation with the idea of performing, I'd repeatedly listened to another song named "Jolene," by Cake. Cake is a band no one is supposed to actually like. The horns and the lead singer's delivery feel cheap most of the time, and the humor in their music probably doesn't grab people. "The Distance" probably turned a lot of people off.
Anyway, a woman I was crushing on who was from Philadelphia and a fucked-up family sent me the mp3 of Cake performing Jolene live. The girl was into coke, I think. She at least had been a member of the "coke set," a group of Georgetown kids who were rich and existential enough to party hard and try to fuck themselves up enough that they would somehow squash their sense of privilege. This group may or may not have actually done coke and may have existed more in my imagination than anywhere else; I never went to any of their parties. Okay, all I know for sure is she was a member of the Cake set.
But anyway the girl, who was also petite and French and looked like she needed a friend, got me into "Jolene" and I've always grudgingly respected Cake as a result. In the live version, the singer tells the lighting guy to turn off all the lights and instructs everyone to hum along with him during a breakdown. You believe, listening in, that the audience is with him. It's easy enough, he asks them to sing "oohs," and I think he picks three notes in a row, do re mi, so even the worst singers can get in on the game.
Later, he does a James Brown thing too where he yells for the horns and guitar to come back.
So yeah, here's Cake's "Jolene." Not the live version that I fell hard for but you might still get the idea.
Eventually, the French chick stopped wearing short skirts and cut her hair. She took a gig as a bicycle messenger and may have become a lesbian -- she at least started reading Mexican anarcho-feminism, and she participated in the hunger strike to help get Georgetown's cleaning crews a living wage. To protest the war in Iraq she joined a tent city in the main square on campus.
I hate to press the point too hard to the paper but it's fun to think that it's the same Jolene that Dolly and Cake are singing about. They both sort of love her but they can't get her to behave.
Parton feels old-school in that she cracks actual funny jokes, she gets up there and smiles real big for everyone and tries to give some joy back to the people watching. She performed at the Oscars or the Grammies a while ago. I think the song was about God and love. Anyway, Dolly Parton is real.
Prior to that flirtation with the idea of performing, I'd repeatedly listened to another song named "Jolene," by Cake. Cake is a band no one is supposed to actually like. The horns and the lead singer's delivery feel cheap most of the time, and the humor in their music probably doesn't grab people. "The Distance" probably turned a lot of people off.
Anyway, a woman I was crushing on who was from Philadelphia and a fucked-up family sent me the mp3 of Cake performing Jolene live. The girl was into coke, I think. She at least had been a member of the "coke set," a group of Georgetown kids who were rich and existential enough to party hard and try to fuck themselves up enough that they would somehow squash their sense of privilege. This group may or may not have actually done coke and may have existed more in my imagination than anywhere else; I never went to any of their parties. Okay, all I know for sure is she was a member of the Cake set.
But anyway the girl, who was also petite and French and looked like she needed a friend, got me into "Jolene" and I've always grudgingly respected Cake as a result. In the live version, the singer tells the lighting guy to turn off all the lights and instructs everyone to hum along with him during a breakdown. You believe, listening in, that the audience is with him. It's easy enough, he asks them to sing "oohs," and I think he picks three notes in a row, do re mi, so even the worst singers can get in on the game.
Later, he does a James Brown thing too where he yells for the horns and guitar to come back.
So yeah, here's Cake's "Jolene." Not the live version that I fell hard for but you might still get the idea.
Eventually, the French chick stopped wearing short skirts and cut her hair. She took a gig as a bicycle messenger and may have become a lesbian -- she at least started reading Mexican anarcho-feminism, and she participated in the hunger strike to help get Georgetown's cleaning crews a living wage. To protest the war in Iraq she joined a tent city in the main square on campus.
I hate to press the point too hard to the paper but it's fun to think that it's the same Jolene that Dolly and Cake are singing about. They both sort of love her but they can't get her to behave.
Clean Up, Go Home
One of my favorite scenes is from Heat, when De Niro catches Ashley Judd in the motel room and tells her to give it one last shot with Val Kilmer. He says "Clean up, go home." And then he says it again.
It's mean but De Niro's trying to do the right thing.
It's mean but De Niro's trying to do the right thing.
Saturday, March 01, 2008
Muska in 'Fulfill the Dream'
I think, by the way, that the rail he boardslides into the bank is in Ocean Beach, San Francisco. I think also that I stayed at a friend's apartment that was like 100 yards from that spot.
Sometime right around 1998, Chad Muska became more than just a gnarly skater. For several years after 1998, Chad Muska became God to millions of young teenagers worldwide.
Muska liked Rap music and did kickflips in skateparks while wearing a backpack and toting a ghetto blaster. When he first set out, these gimmicks didn't look like gimmicks so much as antics. Antics of a young man who knew he had charisma and talent and who could blow people away with his skating.
After "Fulfill The Dream," Tony Hawk's Pro Skater and the complete explosion of Shorty's Skateboards, the tide turned. People started hating Muska. Muska stopped skating and started making music. When he did film a trick, the footage reeked of half-stepping.
Transworld's "Videoradio," which documented the C1rca team's Euro tour, market the peak of Muska ridic, when hundreds of kids mobbed the dude at a demo and he couldn't even move.
Amid the hype and backlash, people forgot a simple thing about Muska. He had, at one point, made a seven-minute part in a video that was crucial to skateboarding's cultural self-awareness. He starts out just ollieing over things as he rolls through streets, skating the way everyday people skate. He ollies three massive sets of stairs. He destroys everything.
It'd be too bad if no one took time to remember that before this,
there was this.
These Shoulders Hold Up So Much
Dan Feehan has a story to tell about Dick Cheney. It is a very good story.
Friday, February 29, 2008
A Little More Gaddis
I'm not sure I'm happy about this, or other things like it. Still, kind of cute.
Deny the Reader
This is from William Gaddis' Carpenter's Gothic.
Gaddis evades the typical obligation to make definite statements. "What time is it?" the reader asks. Gaddis introduces the possibility that it is "not yet five," only to immediately cast the notion into doubt with "Had it stopped?" The same gambit happens with the mountain. "What is that thing we see in the distance?" The answer Gaddis gives is *shrug*.
Without letting on to any definite sense of time or space, Gaddis still gives the reader enough to go on. The time must be one that is mistakable for "not yet five," and the thing in the distance must be mistakable for a mountain. In spite of the wiggle room he leaves, Gaddis still pins himself down to a specific realm of possibilities. The mountain can't be a crabcake, for example.
This narrative style is aggressive and unnerving but makes the audience nervous enough to want to resolve the uncertainty. There's more, though; even if the reader knows he's being fucked with, there's very little to be done about it except to try to win Gaddis' game on his own terms, by prying some meaning from a text that pretty much overtly says, "I'm not giving you a damn thing."
See also.
When the telephone rang she'd already turned away, catching breath, and going for it in the kitchen she looked up to the clock: not yet five. Had it stopped? The day was gone with the sun dropped behind the mountain, or what passed for one here rising up from the river.
Gaddis evades the typical obligation to make definite statements. "What time is it?" the reader asks. Gaddis introduces the possibility that it is "not yet five," only to immediately cast the notion into doubt with "Had it stopped?" The same gambit happens with the mountain. "What is that thing we see in the distance?" The answer Gaddis gives is *shrug*.
Without letting on to any definite sense of time or space, Gaddis still gives the reader enough to go on. The time must be one that is mistakable for "not yet five," and the thing in the distance must be mistakable for a mountain. In spite of the wiggle room he leaves, Gaddis still pins himself down to a specific realm of possibilities. The mountain can't be a crabcake, for example.
This narrative style is aggressive and unnerving but makes the audience nervous enough to want to resolve the uncertainty. There's more, though; even if the reader knows he's being fucked with, there's very little to be done about it except to try to win Gaddis' game on his own terms, by prying some meaning from a text that pretty much overtly says, "I'm not giving you a damn thing."
See also.
It's Pronounced "Differently"
me: what's becoming jane
transgender thing?
Bumcakes: what?
no
its the movie about jane austen!
you're thinking of transamerica
Coming War Part 3
-A picture of Obama in a turban
-A media flap over the seemingly tactical deployment of his middle name, "Hussein," by Republicans
-Rumors he is Muslim have some kind of impact, maybe
Another chance for the American electorate to prove how easily it is tricked may be right around the corner.
Book Titles That Are Improved By Removal of One Word -- or Several Words
Love the Time of Cholera
The Grapes
Slaughterhouse
The Unbearable Lightness Being...?
Still Life With Pecker
Confederacy Dunces
Little House, Big Wood
As I Lay [or, better yet] As I Dying
Down, Moses!
Bonfire Vanities
Potter and the Prisoner
The Grapes
Slaughterhouse
The Unbearable Lightness Being...?
Still Life With Pecker
Confederacy Dunces
Little House, Big Wood
As I Lay [or, better yet] As I Dying
Down, Moses!
Bonfire Vanities
Potter and the Prisoner
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Monday, February 25, 2008
Sunday, February 24, 2008
The Old Notebook
Notes under the heading "Technique & Craft," dated 12-11-07.
This morning as per usual, Sulks and I and the Dasher went out for some Bloodies over on DeKalb, but there was a new bartendress there. The one we liked had short hair and was friendly and was hippie-ish with regard to undergarments, if you know what I mean. We (Sulks and I) were so taken with her that we went so far as to say she made excellent Bloody Maries, despite that the mix was premade and so the steadiness of her pour only had so much to do with our assessment.
The new lady, perfunctory and preoccupied, asked for our i.d.'s and then went back to doing prep work rather than pour our drinks. She gave us little candies after we paid the bill and Sulks asked, "Are these gum or candy?"
No response.
She must be new to the trade or else is so experienced that she has hardened and does not care whether several new boys on the block will come back.
------
There is an odd element to having been a bartender, which is the feeling that one is in position to judge the social and drinkmaking skills of other bartenders. To compensate for the wrongful feeling of entitlement, it is wise to tip amply.
This is what makes customers who have been in the business too long indispensable but insufferable. I am now one of those customers.
Shaking: -most effective way to mix indredients
-chills & slightly dilutes the drink
-never fill more than halfway w/ ice
-shake until drink is cold
Stirring:-marries flavors
-doesn't cloud the drink like shaking
This morning as per usual, Sulks and I and the Dasher went out for some Bloodies over on DeKalb, but there was a new bartendress there. The one we liked had short hair and was friendly and was hippie-ish with regard to undergarments, if you know what I mean. We (Sulks and I) were so taken with her that we went so far as to say she made excellent Bloody Maries, despite that the mix was premade and so the steadiness of her pour only had so much to do with our assessment.
The new lady, perfunctory and preoccupied, asked for our i.d.'s and then went back to doing prep work rather than pour our drinks. She gave us little candies after we paid the bill and Sulks asked, "Are these gum or candy?"
No response.
She must be new to the trade or else is so experienced that she has hardened and does not care whether several new boys on the block will come back.
------
There is an odd element to having been a bartender, which is the feeling that one is in position to judge the social and drinkmaking skills of other bartenders. To compensate for the wrongful feeling of entitlement, it is wise to tip amply.
This is what makes customers who have been in the business too long indispensable but insufferable. I am now one of those customers.
Ornette Coleman Throws Boulders Like a Snowman
Not much, just taking the sunlight in through the back window, listening to some "Congeniality" from the NPR Web site. Yeah it's sort of too bad, especially with the Sirius Satellite Radio ad at the beginning, but no one's YouTubed the mess so I'll take what I can get.
What Did One Mental Patient Say
To Another Mental Patient?
from Charles d'Ambrosio. "Screenwriter." The Dead Fish Museum: Stories. New York: Knopf, 2006.
"I don't like your mind."
"Yeah, well I'm not here for a pedicure."
from Charles d'Ambrosio. "Screenwriter." The Dead Fish Museum: Stories. New York: Knopf, 2006.
It's Eight in the Evenin' and I'm Already Heavin' -- The Bacon Movie
I've blogged about Bacon Skateboards before, lauding them as one of the top companies to look semiserious and cruise safely under the radar. As Ryan Sheckler and Rob Dyrdek sally forth on MTV on an apparent mission to make skateboarding into Bonfire of the Vanities as co-authored by Paris Hilton and whoever writes "Flavor of Love," some Northwestern durables keep breaking out footage that feels the same way skateboarding did on Sunday afternoons when homework could wait until tomorrow and it was too damn sunny out anyway.
For anyone who's been in the mood for just popping over manhole covers and not even trying to learn any new tricks, for anyone who still has love for the game, the entire Bacon full video is now available for free download via Skateboardermag.
Thanks, Bacon!
For anyone who's been in the mood for just popping over manhole covers and not even trying to learn any new tricks, for anyone who still has love for the game, the entire Bacon full video is now available for free download via Skateboardermag.
Thanks, Bacon!
I've Abandoned My Boy!
In honor of the Oscars and a film I have not seen, but whose previews consistently give me a chuckle, here's a facile laugh.
It's not super funny, really, but finally someone else realized "IVE ABANDONED MY BOY" is one of the great one-liners of our time.
It's not super funny, really, but finally someone else realized "IVE ABANDONED MY BOY" is one of the great one-liners of our time.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
I Leaned Right Over the Counter Just to Kiss You
Early on in the ongoing Brooklyn days, a friend of mine met a girl and got her email. After a few exchanges, she mentioned a Hold Steady show was going on in the next couple weeks, and asked whether he wanted to go.
Big reveal: He'd never divulged his HS fandom before, so it was clear she'd gotten her data somewhere else, likely an FB photo gallery with lyrics in the captions. No harm no foul, right? It was pretty much funny that this girl had been faced with a decision: "Do I ask him about the Hold Steady and let him in on my FB stalking?"
My guess is that this kind of behavior is only going to get less and less awkward. For now, though, it still merits a giggle or maybe a quizzical look.
Last night I got called out for doing some similar (but different, I guess) Internet tomfoolery and the shame was bananas. I guess these things happen but it is telling that blogs and Facebook have become a way for people to try to understand each other. Which is fine and all but there still remains a lot of explaining to do after you find out about the messy breakup or the flirtation with addictive chemicals via a Livejournal or whatever.
It's nostalgic, but maybe also somewhat productive, to remember a time when people were by and large more or less forced to speak with one another, out loud, to become friends.
Getting drunk together helped and still helps.
Big reveal: He'd never divulged his HS fandom before, so it was clear she'd gotten her data somewhere else, likely an FB photo gallery with lyrics in the captions. No harm no foul, right? It was pretty much funny that this girl had been faced with a decision: "Do I ask him about the Hold Steady and let him in on my FB stalking?"
My guess is that this kind of behavior is only going to get less and less awkward. For now, though, it still merits a giggle or maybe a quizzical look.
Last night I got called out for doing some similar (but different, I guess) Internet tomfoolery and the shame was bananas. I guess these things happen but it is telling that blogs and Facebook have become a way for people to try to understand each other. Which is fine and all but there still remains a lot of explaining to do after you find out about the messy breakup or the flirtation with addictive chemicals via a Livejournal or whatever.
It's nostalgic, but maybe also somewhat productive, to remember a time when people were by and large more or less forced to speak with one another, out loud, to become friends.
Getting drunk together helped and still helps.
Stuff White People Like
A friend indicated to me that Stuff White People Like is no longer just a series of stereotypes; it is also a blog.
Let's just get it out of the way that white people, as defined by this blog, like this blog.
Moving on: this is the sort of unimaginative conception of race that actually winds up hurting us. Example: "Difficult breakups." Really? I guess the theory behind the humor there is that white people are self-absorbed and self-important, and that we, i.e. white people (yeah I'm white! Hi world!), are too dramatic about love or whatever. Still, I've never heard anyone say "White people care too much about relationships." That is patently not a phenomenon. But this blog wants it to be, so it is.
But as opposed to whom? Asians? Black people? Hispanics? Where is the redeeming quality in race-baiting satire (which I often find funny) if there isn't even a palpable referent? This blog appears to do little besides create new stereotypes.
Another one: Expensive sandwiches! You could make a class argument here, but I'm not really seeing the chi chi turkey swiss get turned down by a lot of people, fishbelly or otherwise.
Admittedly, this site is a little cute. But I'm having trouble imagining what kind of person I'd be if I checked back regularly.
Let's just get it out of the way that white people, as defined by this blog, like this blog.
Moving on: this is the sort of unimaginative conception of race that actually winds up hurting us. Example: "Difficult breakups." Really? I guess the theory behind the humor there is that white people are self-absorbed and self-important, and that we, i.e. white people (yeah I'm white! Hi world!), are too dramatic about love or whatever. Still, I've never heard anyone say "White people care too much about relationships." That is patently not a phenomenon. But this blog wants it to be, so it is.
But as opposed to whom? Asians? Black people? Hispanics? Where is the redeeming quality in race-baiting satire (which I often find funny) if there isn't even a palpable referent? This blog appears to do little besides create new stereotypes.
Another one: Expensive sandwiches! You could make a class argument here, but I'm not really seeing the chi chi turkey swiss get turned down by a lot of people, fishbelly or otherwise.
Admittedly, this site is a little cute. But I'm having trouble imagining what kind of person I'd be if I checked back regularly.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)