Friday, February 29, 2008

Deny the Reader

This is from William Gaddis' Carpenter's Gothic.
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

Oh Blog, I Couldn't Stay Mad at You

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Mission Viejo

I'll be taking a blognap for a bit. So just chill.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Sunday, February 24, 2008

I Need to Make My Blog Wider

But I am scared of losing it.

The Old Notebook

Notes under the heading "Technique & Craft," dated 12-11-07.
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?
"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!

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.

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.

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.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Valentine for Jenna

This is what my friends have been up to.

Two Things

First: Strokes w/ Regina: "Modern Girls": I don't even feel a little guilty about this one.

Second: Puffy Shoe is dispatching the local paperboy to throw resumes on the porches of New York media outlets. If you know anyone looking for a video editor, funnyman, food-taster and/or semiserious journalist, holler. (For once I do not refer to myself.) Please help out, the dude will make a good neighbor.

Is It Like This?

It is like this.

Mainly the hat part.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Discarded Words, Phrases

It's not uncommon for a person to adopt a phrase or word only to let it fall away after excessive, repetitive and gratuitous use. A word or phrase that appears sufficiently unique will serve as a mark of distinction, at least until enough people ask what it means.

Here are some of the phrases I've dropped frequently and then dropped altogether.

"A veritable cornucopia" - don't really miss that one.

" ... or something" - used to hedge when giving an especially harsh opinion. I give fewer harsh opinions now (or maybe I just do less hedging).

"Sad business" - a sad state of affairs, used as a direct object. I still like this one, but I think I still wore it out.

"Bad business" - basically sad business.

"Shut up you dumb idiot" - probably not hard to imagine why that one didn't last.

"(verb) the pants off (noun/pronoun)" - a coworker actually told me that one was inappropriate!

"I make it rain" - 2006.

"I roll like a boss" - 2005.

"Get pumped" - There was a time when I felt it was important to encourage people to get pumped as often as possible. I'm not sure when or why that time ended. It was a good time. Getting pumped is almost always a good decision.

"Strong move" - Still in currency but soon to be tossed in the heap.

"There are 6 million women in New York" - I mean, come on. Honestly.

Got your own discarded phrase? Drop it in the comments below! I'll read it! And say it. For you.

Pentathlon Upshot

The 'thlon was a success. Too great, in fact: I will not denigrate it to blog-post status.

However, I will mention that Daniel has restarted his own blog.

To conclude:
"Je ne veux pas aller au service militaire, je ne veux pas faire la guerre pour un morceau de terre."

-Solaar

Good luck to all.

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Coming War Part 2

Out in Texas, I'm being chewed out by an Obama campaign constable and sometimes friend for not having voted in New York. Turns out, even if I had, I might not have.

According to reports from several Obama staffers who worked the Nevada campaign and an official filing by the campaign's lawyers, New York is not the only place where shit's a mess.

If it keeps up like this, come August, I'm going to Denver, and I'm getting arrested.

Friday, February 15, 2008

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Coming War

"Cheat to Win"

--An old friend


This reminds me of a book I once read.

The superdelegates factor, coupled with the Democratic party's oddball screwup of Florida and Michigan - two notorious swing states that have been the center of America's frightening political battleground - means we may be in for a serious brawl come summer.

The Dem convention itself shows potential as an old-school 20th century affair. Shysty hucksters will prowl around and both candidates will pursue any back door cut to sneak into a nom.

As in the past, this may mark occasion for true lines to be drawn. The badminton net is being cast, the poles shoved in the ground. Pundits will say that peepants scaredycats line up behind their mother figure on one side while the fresher types give a chance to a darker shade of idealizm. Thing is, the pundits might for once turn out to be right.

2000 and 2004 emphatically displayed to everyone the imperfections (to be delicate) of the U.S. general electoral system. 2008 may blast us back to an era when there were evident and frightening moral chasms to conquer in the mere primaries.

Unlike in olympiads past, though, it's starting to look like the kids might have something to say this time.

"They were wasting those longhairs / I just happened to be there."

Nanananananana



-At a work function last night, I shook hands with a multi-millionaire, and we discussed Texas Hold Em, briefly. It was a true "slobs vs. snobs" moment! Just kidding. Well, kind of. Okay yeah I'm kidding. But not about the shaking hands part. I did do that.

-From where I lay, I can see the constructors building the beginnings of a cement wall. I wonder if they will vote for Obama.

-Two people have said "Happy Valentine's Day" to me today, and Sulky hasn't even woken up yet!

-For reasons unclear, this week has failed to end in a sufficiently prompt manner. I'm currently lecturing it on the importance of punctuality.

-The Feehan pentathlon approaches. Prepare for rip-roaring accounts here and perhaps a full-on docudrama on HBO (okay probably YouTube).

-Sometimes you just gotta walk in the rain and see the size of the city you're in. Other times you just gotta wear plaid pants with a plaid shirt. In both cases, it helps to have a plane ticket out of town in your pocket (or on the Internet).

-Everything is not so bad!

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

From the Sis

Feel-good:

hey hey,
i'm wondering what you have to say about writing a letter of intent. do you have a sample one of yours?
mom met a rwandan who works on water management...long story short, he told her he wants to hire me. all in a trip to chile. go figure eh?
talk soon

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Cowardice

In college I had a roommate that no one in my house liked. We found him on Craigslist and he was a graduate student. He was a Democrat and watched Fox News after a day of classes. He had Swiss citizenship and cooked meals for other international students (girls) and then took them down to his room to sleep with.

I lived in the basement across the hall from him and another roommate lived down the hall. We all shared a bathroom that no one cleaned.

After several months, the carbon monoxide alarm began going off in the basement. Eventually I got tired of the noise and so detached the alarm from the ceiling and placed it on the front stoop.

Several days and nights passed, and everyone in the basement slept quite soundly.

Coming in through the front door one day, the Swiss roommate finally noticed the smoke detector. "Hey, why is this out here?" he asked.

I was playing video games. "Because the CO alarm keeps going off."

"How long has the detector been outside?"

"Since Sunday."

He did not pick up the smoke detector or bring it back in the house. He just walked back to the kitchen to make some pasta.

He almost never washed the pans.

Insanity

I read somewhere once that insanity, the kind where people do things like yell strange words in the middle of a park with their pants around their ankles, is actually pretty simple.

An otherwise healthy person develops (or convinces his brain he's developed) a positive response to the emotions he feels when he's suffering humiliation. So, for example, when most people fall on their butts while they're giving a presentation in front of a group of respectable citizens, they feel ashamed and sad because they know their audience's derisive thoughts.

A crazy person, on the other hand, falls on his butt and, seeing the haughty smirks, decides he likes seeing those smirks and carries on falling on his butt. It's sort of understandable and probably a little liberating to pursue this course.

This theory at least explains why people who are not crazy are made so uncomfortable by the presence of the insane; the insane are unbounded by the restraints that sane people still have to deal with. Their lives are unmistakably sad; we know that and they know that. The pain is real - they may often be hungry or lack shelter. They feel that another kind of human contact and fulfillment eludes them. But underneath those surface differences, the regular people are nervous and scared, because they are frightfully close to feeling the same inclinations toward self-destruction.

Also, it may very well be that a person's degree of insanity varies with his or her environment. I'm not talking childhood here, either. I mean on an instant-to-instant basis a person will feel more or less affinity to the humiliation impulse based on who or what happens to be around.

If that is true, everybody be careful.

Pentathlete Profile: Steve Thomas

Editor's Note: In honor of the upcoming inaugural Daniel Feehan Pentathalon - a grueling three-day athletic competition testing some of the nation's best and brightest in the fields of Jenga, Texas Hold 'Em, Frisbee Golf, Foosball and Ping Pong - Ideelz, in conjunction with the event's namesake, is publicizing the vital stats of each competitor as part of an ongoing series. The event is to pop off Feb. 16-18, 2008 in Belton, Texas.




Pentathlete #6:
Steve "Even Keel" Thomas

Hails from: Buffington, Connecticut; Snobberton, Delaware; The Street.

Get to know Steve...

By Day: drifter
By Sport: Bandwagon Boston-area Teams, Cockfighting, Dueling

Pentathletic Strengths: Intimidation. Steve is equally intimidated by each event. Ergo, he is well-balanced.

Professed weakness: Steve is a sucker for Hillary Clinton speeches. They stir him so much that he will abandon task or team to listen to her.

Intangibles: Which Steve Thomas will show up? The raging alcoholic drifter, the disciplined mustachioed Academic, or the uncompromising neoconservative we've all grown to tolerate?

Quotable Steve: "When do we get the freakin' guns?"

Did you know?: Steve has successfully posed his way as a Georgetown student through 7 semesters.

Pentathlete Profile: Wade Greenlee

Editor's Note: In honor of the upcoming inaugural Daniel Feehan Pentathalon - a grueling three-day athletic competition testing some of the nation's best and brightest in the fields of Jenga, Texas Hold 'Em, Frisbee Golf, Foosball and Ping Pong - Ideelz, in conjunction with the event's namesake, is publicizing the vital stats of each competitor as part of an ongoing series. The event is to pop off Feb. 16-18, 2008 in Belton, Texas.




Pentathlete #5:
Wade "Thunder" Greenlee
Hails from: Chicago, Tokyo, Central Tejas

Get to know Wade...

By Day:
Wade herds cats in the US Army
By Sport: Cricket, Sand-Pounding, Hot Dog Eating (for enjoyment's sake, with relish)

Pentathletic Strengths: Wade is strong.

Professed weakness:
After a beaning in Tokyo League Baseball in 2002, Wade can no longer speak English.

Intangibles:
According to his trainer and the Mitchell report, Wade is fueled by liquid anger, injected intravenously. When confronted with this accusation, Wade smash camera.

Quotable Wade: (loosely translated) "Consider please honor in competletion. Feel Enjoy! Thanks four corporation."


Did you know?: Wade does the Super Bowl Shuffle to entice his wife, romantically speaking.

Finally!

It finally occurred to me to embed Len's "If You Steal My Sunshine" on this blog.



There is an insidious movement among people wanting to impress others with the eclecticism of their taste. Its (the movement's) followers profess to like any number of songs for shock value. I am not being coy. I have not even made a point yet.

And I am done discussing. Enjoy yourselves some Len.

Pentathlete Profile: Brendan Boundy

Editor's Note: In honor of the upcoming inaugural Daniel Feehan Pentathalon - a grueling three-day athletic competition testing some of the nation's best and brightest in the fields of Jenga, Texas Hold 'Em, Frisbee Golf, Foosball and Ping Pong - Ideelz, in conjunction with the event's namesake, is publicizing the vital stats of each competitor as part of an ongoing series. The event is to pop off Feb. 16-18, 2008 in Belton, Texas.




Pentathlete #4:
Brendan "Doubting Thomas" Boundy
Hails from: The District of Columbia, The Philly, The Newtown Square, PA

Get to know Brendan...

By Day: Brendan is a whip for the party, the pants party, the party in his pants.
By Sport: Crew, Gerrymandering

Pentathletic Strengths: Brendan fouls really hard on the basketball court to compensate for shortcomings in skill. This may not translate to the pentathlon, but watch your knees.

Professed weakness: Brendan sucks.

Intangibles: Brendan's lankiness is an unknown, whether it will help our hurt his efforts or lack of effort.

Quotable Brendan: "Watch your knees."


Did you know?: Brendan's recent Obama campaign contribution was rejected because of his romantic links to a "pimped out" Chelsea Clinton.

Self Stroking

How acceptable is it to live in New York and suddenly relate powerfully to Strokes songs? I'm guessing it's a shameful disgrace akin to the one I feel for enjoying "The Office."

Art that convincingly replicates life carries with it a danger. If the art convinces you, it's won, whether it's right or not.

I AINT WASTIN NO MORE TIIIIIIME

aka

PAM LETS GO ON A DATE I AM SUPER TALL! OUR BOSS IS ANNOYING!

Just a Quick BQ

"All these veteran heads keep telling me to get off the speed because it's dangerous, but every time I have something to say to them late at night, they're passed out."

HST

Monday, February 11, 2008

"Fuck My Balls"

Sulky: dude, "Fuck My Balls"
is 11 minutes long
me: fuck my balls
hahahaha
that would hurt!
Sulky: "do you wanna fuck my balls!?! / yeah i wanna fuck your balls"
me: hahahaahhahahaha
Sulky: i can hear u laughing
11:47 PM
me: fuck my balls
Sulky: fuck my balls
me: that is the stupidest thing
Sulky: like why didn't they just say suck
me: not extreme enough
Sulky: LETS SAY FUCK
me: fuck me in my balls
girl
Sulky: FUCK MY BALLS
me: fuck both my balls
Sulky: fuck my balls
me: fuck my balls!
do you wanna fuck my
balls
yeah
i wanna
fuck your balls
Sulky: OK
me: fuck my balls
Sulky: I am
me: what are you waiting for
Sulky: : )
me: you
you fucked my balls!
Sulky: : ) : )
me: fuck my balls!
Sulky: i'm imagining him saying it
11:58 PM
me: i think i should be allowed to blog this convo
Sulky: go for it
just leave out the beginning
me: yeah
Sulky: and maybe don't use the name
me: i won't use the name
i'll be tactful

It's Funny

I'm reminded today of a subway ride a few days back. A Chinese guy was on the train but didn't know which way we were headed. I told him, with gestures, that we were going to Manhattan.

A few minutes later, another man who had watched the incident came over to me and told me he thought the Chinese man was confused and we should get a cop. To avoid involving the cops in what looked like a basic problem of language, I made the Chinese guy come over to me and point out his destination on the map. Flushing! No problem.

The woman who had to move her head so the Chinese guy could point looked at me and said with not a little contempt, "I think he knows what he's doing."

I didn't say much to anyone for a while after that, even when I'd been at work for several hours. Instead I made myself several cups of tea and concentrated on the Internet.

Playwright's

The only thing to do after suffering a humiliating defeat at English was to make an effort at self-betterment. Here are the fruits of that effort.



Wright is a Middle English word meaning "worker." All is forgiven, bar. You are probably a fine bar to drink at and to refer to in proper English. You are certainly not a failed attempt at a joke. My bad!

Playwright's

I am an idiot and playwright is spelled that way so feel free to slap me or just go ahead and read the below post and laugh at how much of a dummy I am.

In other words, RETRACTION.

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Playwright's

There is a series of pubs in Manhattan. These pubs call themselves "Playwright's."

I'm all for misspelling words for some specific purpose. Kids' Korner, for example - replacing the C in Corner with a K creates some visual interest by making both words start with the same letter.

With "Playwright's," though, there's no discernible joke - not even a really korny one - to justify the misspelling. The only reasonable excuse would be if a Mr. or Ms. Playwright were the proprietor or prorpietress. If that's not the case, Playwright's is one of the worst names for a location I have ever seen.

Friday, February 08, 2008

For the Blogroll - Holy Fucking Shit

Holy fucking shit Lux is finally blogging. All it took was a global Internet disaster.

I Was There for This



Just thought I'd mention.

Thursday, February 07, 2008

Pentathlete Profile: Pat Feehan

Editor's Note: In honor of the upcoming inaugural Daniel Feehan Pentathalon - a grueling three-day athletic competition testing some of the nation's best and brightest in the fields of Jenga, Texas Hold 'Em, Frisbee Golf, Foosball and Ping Pong - Ideelz, in conjunction with the event's namesake, is publicizing the vital stats of each competitor as part of an ongoing series. The event is to pop off Feb. 16-18, 2008 in Belton, Texas.



Pentathlete #3: Pat "Expat" Feehan
Hails from: Mili-waukee, County Cork (Ireland), Minnesota

Get to know Pat...


By Day: Pat is an internet conspiracy theorist with a specialty in refuting email "hoaxes"
By Sport: Snow Shoveling, Lottery Scratch Off Games, Getting Frustrated by Minnesotan Teams

Pentathletic Strengths: Experience and moxy. This man is a pentathlon legend, winning both the 1967 and 1995 events in rural Minnesota.

Professed weakness: Known to settle disputes violently in a Burr-like "duel"

Intangibles:
Pat claims his experience (read age) will make up for a loss of hand-eye coordination (he's lost one hand and an eye, not the coordination).
Pat's trash talk is infamous, routinely forcing his competitors to fall upon their swords (see 1967 Pentathlon).

Quotable Pat: "Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit amphetamines."

Did you know?: Pat is now a citizen of Ireland. He routinely conducts clandestine operations against his former home, Wisconsin. Wisconsin does not seem to notice.

Further Editor's Note: I was drunk when I did this, so if there are format errors, I'm sorry.

While We're At It

I forgot to mention the Twix bar.

Also, fittingly, this is post #200. I'd like to thank Mom and Dad, without whom none of this would be possible!

On the Frequent Need for a Suitable Sixer

As I was walking up DeKalb toward home I knew I was going to buy a sixer at the Halal place by Washington Ave. As I got past the park I started to worry, because normally by then I would have decided the brand or at least the yeast. But it just wasn't coming to me.

Certainly not a Blue Moon - those are clear, mild and easily understood. Sierra Nevada Pale Ale is a mainstay but mainly for celebrations. Budweiser tallboys get to work fast but I had done that the other night and didn't feel like dealing with the wide mouth. Miller Lite is always out of the question. No one sells High Life in my rounds except the Chinese guy on 8th between Broadway and 6th Ave (obviously I'm not sure where exactly).

The worry had matured into sincere disorientation by the time I opened the door to the mart. Luckily, the ghost of King Lear or my great grandfather or someone whispered in my ear, "Don't worry. You'll know what to do when you get to the fridge."

The old man was right. Sitting behind the sliding door was Lagunitas IPA of Petaluma, Calif., a vestige of the Tacoma days and a brooding, gritty beer that could chip your teeth. Perfect for the silence of my empty apartment.

Tomorrow there will be another. But tonight, I've got Petal Town's favorite lady on my lips.

Lou Dobbs Gallery for Two, Please





Time to clear the air. It may be obvious that I'm not Lou Dobbs' biggest fan (he is).

At any rate, Los Blogueros are badass.

Wednesday, February 06, 2008

Kickflip Over BMX Double Hump

Wheeeeeee!



From April 2008 Skateboarder Magazine cover. Did I mention that's a kickflip?

Tuesday, February 05, 2008

Pentathlete Profile: Ed Marion

Editor's Note: In honor of the upcoming inaugural Daniel Feehan Pentathalon - a grueling three-day athletic competition testing some of the nation's best and brightest in the fields of Jenga, Texas Hold 'Em, Frisbee Golf, Foosball and Ping Pong - Ideelz, in conjunction with the event's namesake, is publicizing the vital stats of each competitor as part of an ongoing series. The event is to pop off Feb. 16-18, 2008 in Belton, Texas.



Pentathlete #2: Ed "Moves" Marion
Hails from: El Paso, TX , Dirty Jerz, Nineveh Province of I-Rock

Get to know Ed....


By Day: Ed is the wheels and cogs of the US Army. Literally.
By Sport: Street Ballin', Dance Dance Revolution, Celebrity watching

Pentathletic Strengths: Alcoholic tolerance

Professed weakness: Poker. Known to declare, "My stars, what a hand" when bluffing

Intangibles:
Ed's attention span. When focused, Ed's a machine. When distracted by bright colors and moving objects, Ed tends to wander. Literally.
The incorporation of his infamous dance moves into the events will make or break his team.

Quotable Ed:
"Homer Simpson: Kids, you tried your best and you failed miserably. The lesson is, never try."

Did you know?: Ed won the first (and last) Mosul Idol competition this past July.

Tomorrow's Featured Pentathlete:
Patrick Feehan

Sitemeter

Sometimes my sitemeter disappears. This is disastrous for me because it means I don't know whether any more writers whose stories I like are stumbling onto this blog. Plus I need to know whether my employers have found this thing yet.

If you see my sitemeter please email it back to me. It must have peeled off or something.

Pentathlete Profile: Andrew Tein

Editor's Note: In honor of the upcoming inaugural Daniel Feehan Pentathalon - a grueling three-day athletic competition testing some of the nation's best and brightest in the fields of Jenga, Texas Hold 'Em, Frisbee Golf, Foosball and Ping Pong - Ideelz, in conjunction with the event's namesake, is publicizing the vital stats of each competitor as part of an ongoing series. The event is to pop off Feb. 16-18, 2008 in Belton, Texas.




Pentathlete #1:
Andrew "Yangtze" Tein
Hails from: Washington, D.C., Hong Kong, Houston

Get to know Andrew....


By Day: Tobacco Lobbyist
By Sport: Equestrian Golf, Synchronized Swimming, Dogfighting

Pentathletic Strengths: Jenga

Professed weakness: Frisbee-related events

Intangibles:

Andrew can carry a conversation.
Andrew has a history of ankle issues which should not impact his performance.
Andrew has never won anything athletic, but he is willing to start.

Quotable Andrew: "I just hope everyone has a nice time."

Did you know?: Andrew has been tasked with removing the smog from Bejing for the upcoming Olympic games.

Tomorrow's Featured Pentathlete: Ed "Moves" Marion

Why Not?

Every publication everywhere should endorse a presidential candidate. It's fun!

Money in the mouth:


Republican candidate: Mike Huckabee - Once fat and funny, now funny. Hard to beat that.

Democratic candidate:
Barack Obama - If he added an apostrophe in there and had been born a mere matter of centuries earlier, I'd be reading about him in Wars of the Irish Kings. He's a little lean, but looks like he could handle a rapier. Plus: he makes young people crap their pants in excitement.

Monday, February 04, 2008

The World Is a Different Place Today



I've been pretty resolutely on the fence about the whole election situation and through negligence and ignorance did not register to vote on this most Super of Tuesdays. However, many of my friends who know something about politics and ideas have been pretty forthright about their support for Barack Obama, a young senator from Illinois who, as near as I can tell, is running on hope, change, and the idea that the Iraq war never even looked like a good idea. I guess I can get behind each of those. Not that it matters right now.

Okay on to the video above, which made its YouTube debut Saturday.

Yes, the BEP are and have been ridic since basically when they came out and for them to make a video endorsing a presidential candidate is also a ridic idea. But it taps into something a friend of mine told me on New Years Eve about Obama's speech at the Jefferson Jackson dinner: "See? The fact that he can make people like us care at all about what happens is what makes him so unique. We're not supposed to have feelings about politics."

Yes, politicians are rarely inspiring and I am not predisposed to caring one way or another about whether someone wins unless they are complete knuckleheads who put my friends in a desert to be shot and blown up for no justifiable purpose.



But the worm feels as though it's turning in my loins here. I kind of get a tingle when I hear Obama's voice and I almost want to believe that he really would make the country better.

I certainly like that the Black Eyed Peas made a video of him talking and them singing and that they probably believe this will in some way help the world become a better place. It's hard to imagine any hip-hop artist doing that for Hillary or anyone else in the race (maybe Edwards, or - call me bananas - Huckabee).

And that there is a candidate who can inspire this kind of conceit - a candidate who creates a world in which YouTube exists so people can make music videos about their favorite political candidates -- strikes at my (however perverted) sense of what America should be like.

So alright Barack Obama, I'm sort of listening, and you have Will.I.Am to thank for that.

My Pal Made a Lolcat


One of the easier things to blog.

Reversal!

Various people have indicated at various times that Google is really a master spin artist. During the net neutrality debate, the search dominatrix took a tone of moral authority and violently defended neutrality as a necessary freedom. Google neglected to mentioned that neutrality was also best for its business.

The company hasn't stopped the charade. Google said today that the Internet should not be controlled by a single behemoth, which is awk, because everyone knows Google controls the internet.

The people who believe in Yahoo! - I know a guy - are probably rejoicing right now. In 2008, Google will be the dynasty to beat, and Microsoft and Yahoo! a patched-up team of proven losers.

Also, the Giants beat the Patriots in the Super Bowl last night.

Just sayin'.

Sunday, February 03, 2008

Really?



It turns out I'm the same person as a lot of other people.

Link, Friend, Link Link

-Suicide Attempts By U.S. Soldiers This is apparently another result of the government's continued mistreatment of its favorite rallying flag. There is anecdotal evidence of a mounting drug problem among troops as well.

-Lawrence blogs about the DRC for Africa Matters. Also see his analysis for the Diplomatic Courier.

-Could a Will Smith movie actually seem palatable? There's definitely more to be said about this but I can't quite figure out what at present.

-Epicly Later'd stepping up its game to do a 16-part (!!!!) series on John Cardiel. Cardiel is famous for his rail- and bowl-slaying part in Transworld's Sight Unseen video and for generally stepping up to the plate harder than younger pros who should be way hungrier. The intro monologue about his brush with paralysis says a lot about him and the brighter side of the skateboarding ethic generally.

The Time for Action … Is Now?


Editor's Note: Ideelz is pleased to welcome its first-ever guest blogger, recent golden-star award winner and military aficionado Daniel Feehan. Daniel is a First Lieutenant in the U.S. Army and writes occasionally for publication on evite.com. He currently lives in Texas.
I am the American dream,
The rape of Africa
The undying machine,
The overpriced medicine,
The murderous regime,
The tough guy's front
And the one behind the scenes

-fiasco, lupe

Whilst my wheels spin in a boundless state, mentally retarded women are remotely detonated in loose statements of religious fanatacism. Hill-dog will look at the options, Barackus will offer white man an out, Johnny Mc will find honorable victory at the cost of dishonor, and I will battle america's identity crisis on foreign shore. Men will be brave and some men will hurt, but will Britney live?

F150s line endless highways of a land too big to understand. Cows cross roads and stare at man, also grazing. Pride is farmed in balls of foot and sold in marts of wal, and when storms come out of the east, surely this is its ow-n country.

The eyes of Texas are upon you,
all the live long day.
The eyes of Texas are upon you,
You cannot get away.

-alma mater, uTejas

Saturday, February 02, 2008

The Same Person

Omar Little

Stagger Lee

Is this a new character type, or an old one?

Friday, February 01, 2008

One More, Then Hitting the Showers

A good line from ESPN.com's Mike Sando on the prospects of a Giants Super Bowl win:
The Giants might pull the upset -- Eli Manning is playing like a champion -- but picking against New England is like hitting on 18 in blackjack. You get credit for good fortune, not smarts, if you happen to draw a three.

Hi!

Per Sitemeter, someone from New Mexico got to ideelz by Googling "Evan Lavender-Smith." This is either the man himself or someone who likes his stuff too. If you are said Googler, thanks for dropping in and if you're Evan Lavender-Smith, say hi. Say hi even if you're not Lavender-Smith. Say hi even if you're not the Googler. If you're the Hamburgler, say rubble rubble.

"Appalachian Spring."

Ballin.

If you never come back, it was good while it lasted. Enjoy the weather.

Also, don't be embarrassed. We've all Googled our new friends or ourselves. It's a sign of respect, or self respect.

Similar, but Different

From Leda and the Swan entry, Wikipedia:
The subject undoubtedly owed its sixteenth-century popularity to the paradox that it was considered more acceptable to depict a woman in the act of copulation with a swan than with a man.

Those were different times (see below).

What Goes On: Modeling

From conversation:
me: hey
Speedra: yo
me: what's goin on
Speedra: not much
trying to get a new project goign in the lab
me: cool
bout what
Speedra: radiation response of tumors
trying to predict response
based on a pre treatment biopsy
using RNA microarrays which measure gene expression of the tumor tissue
basically
collect 54000 pieces of info about the tumors
and then train that data
by telling the modeling program
this is a responder, this is a non responder
me: wow
do you think you'll get something good?
Speedra: i dont know
it seems easy
like
when i first got here
i was like
oh ya
no big deal
but the analysis is complicated
and it doesnt always work
you have to try your best to eliminate any other variables in the samples
anyways
dude
i gots to run
ill talk to you later

(emphasis added, subsequently removed).

It's Life and Life Only

In a begginging of "The Second Battle of Moytura," the first story in Wars of the Irish Kings (David W. McCullough. Three Rivers: New York, 2002. 6–7.), a dispute over who should govern Ireland arises after King Nuadu loses his hand in battle. (Apparently one should not rule one-handed.)

After some flimflam, the people who decide these things settle on Bres, an illegitimate child of Eiru. The author then describe Bres' conception. Eiru is coolin out on the beach when a silver boat pulls up. On closer examination, the boat turns out to be a man who wants to have sex with Eiru.

The courtship is short:
The man said to her: "Shall I have an hour of lovemaking with you?"
"I certainly have not made a tryst with you," she said.
"Come without the trysting!" he said.

One Hour Later:
"Why are you crying?" he asked.
"I have two things that I should lament," said the woman, "separating from you, however we have met. The young men of the Tuathe De Danann have been entreating me in vain -- and you possess me as you do."
"Your anxiety about those two things will be removed," he said.

The ship-man (who finally tells Eiru he's Elatha mac Delbaith, king of the Fomoire) goes on to tell Eiru that she will bear a child who will rule Ireland and drive out invaders.

Assuming the sex was consensual (maybe a big assumption, but Elatha does have "golden-yellow hair down to his shoulders"), this passage adds to a long list of sex scenes from the sixteenth century and before where a god or king comes along and gets busy with a fine woman. Elatha doesn't have to say or do much to convince her, and the news of pregnancy either isn't a big deal to Eiru or is not discussed as such. Nota bene: she says specifically the two things that are bothering her, and neither one has to do with the act of sex itself; that appears to have gone off fine.

Instances of this kind of encounter abound. Courtly love stories in chivalric tales, Leda and the Swan, the Immaculate Conception, etc. all play with this notion of impulsive sex whose consequences are either neutral or incredibly positive. Again, the line between rape and sex here is poorly drawn. All I'm saying is it's conceivable within these stories' frameworks that the sex was consensual (so don't come bangin at me about Leda -- I'm well aware). Because the discussion of these scenes is so offhand, there's some reason to believe that the audience understood sex in a similar way.

I'm picturing a time before there was much to do but work in a field or be a landowner who had to fight to protect his land. Men and women just sort of got together and had sex, and if there was conception, they either got married or otherwise went along. The Church had ideas about feminine purity, whatever, but as a practical matter people probably did the deed a fair amount.

The coupling is important mainly as a generative act in these tales, as opposed to an act of any other kind. The window dressing around it is not that important to the narrator or to the audience; the important thing is that it did happen.

This is a very different approach to sex.

Monday, January 28, 2008

Maudlin!

Barf barf barf barf barf.

Like, honestly. We all like Robert Frost and whatever, but tell me that this wasn't just an excuse to -- cleverly! -- sneak some of his lines into the reporting. The piece's tone is also one of unnecessary aggrandizement of the Yank (Bronx Bomber?) Poet. Everyone knows he was an awesome all-American who wrote really beautifully, capturing in meter the natural flow of speech.

But still. Exaggerating his value to make his house by extension somehow important is pretty dishonest and a cheap play at exigency. In real life, it hardly matters that some people had a party in Robert Frost's farm house, or that they ruined some of his stuff. He is dead. And his poetry, not his kitchenware, is what we really care about.

Imagined rejected things the author thought of while writing this article:

"The foundations of the house must have snarled and rattled. Later, the revelers stumbled out, out -- of the house."

"When they left the party I'm pretty sure they had miles to go before they slept. Miles to go before they slept."

"I wonder if it was a swinger party. Not of birches, mind you."

Everyone just needs to chill when these things happen, and please restrain themselves from writing "beautifully" about a worthless topic.

A Wonderful Exchange

In years of excellent instant messaging, this had never happened:
Will: party on wayne
me: party on garth

Until today.

[. . .]

Also, my blog is somehow on Tacoma, WA time or maybe even some kind of pacific island time. No, just Tacoma time. Maybe I forgot to pack it when I moved.

Sunday, January 27, 2008

Strong and Strong

The world is by turns a kind, gentle place, and a fierce, desperate one. When it is fierce and desperate it feels as though it will kill you just for being in it. But when it fails to kill you, it appears momentarily kind and gentle again.

Because the world is like this, it is also just a place where people live, and where people do their best to go on living.

There isn't ever much point in getting hung up on more than these simple ideas, if that can really be avoided. At least, that is how it appears to me today.

And now I will sleep for sixteen hours, if all goes well.

Some Saints of Note



Saint John the Evangelist aka John Divine: Patron saint of Milwaukee.



Saint Amand: Patron saint of bartenders.



Saint Francis de Sales: Patron saint of journalism.



Saint Elizabeth of Portugal: Guards against jealousy.

[Not pictured]

Saint James Intercisus: Patron saint of lost vocations, also martyred by being cut into 28 pieces.



Saint Lydwina of Schiedam: Patron saint of skaters (ice, mainly, but probably finds time for other kinds).



Mary Magdalen: Saint against sexual temptation (fits). Also patron of glove- and drugmakers.



The Virgin Mary is/has been saddled with a whole host of duties, but among them is patronage of travelers, and Delaware.

Patron Saints Index by Topic

I Ain't Scared of You Motherfuckers



Bernie Mac is very funny in this video. The repetition, the rhythm, the abject filthiness, and the force of his egomaniacal persona just wash all over the place.

By the third time he says "You don't understand," I don't think there's anybody who isn't on board. And this material ought to be a hard sell.

It isn't.

Rwanda Interview Transcript

A segment of my sister's transcript of an interview conducted with a worker at a school in Rwanda:

Our students help each other a lot.

26 18 05

We even received a national certificate of unity.

26 34 10

We practices national unity at this school. For example, in 1997, there was a massacre of children.

26 55 15

The interhamwe came here and told the children to separate

27 05 09

They told the Hutus to stand together and for the Tutsis to stand together. But the girls, since they were taught to stay together,

27 18 21

They refused to separate. They said that they were all Rwandans, and by refusing, they gave their lives.

27 29 21

They killed 17 young girls

27 35 21

Because they refused to separate into groups of Hutus and Tutsis, they were killed.

27 41 23

They killed 17 and there were 20 that were wounded.

27 46 18

Those girls are still handicapped. This is a moving example. These young girls

27 55 11

from 12 to 20 years of age, who had the courage to die instead of to separate.

28 03 19

Instead of saying “you are Hutu, you are Tutsi” even in the face of death.

28 09 10

They accepted death, and that is very poignant.

Fiction and "The Wire"

Back to "The Wire" for a second.

A couple months ago, someone raised an interesting objection. The line goes that the show's realism actually just feels real because it conforms to our racist stereotypes and expectations about how drug dealers are in real life. The critical praise of this realism only served to further entrench "The Wire" and its problematic racial overtones.

This idea never sat well with me because "The Wire" strikes me as patently, even overtly, fictional in just about every moment. In other words, it still behaves like a TV show more than anything else. The dialog is clever and snappy, there are lines that are setups for punchlines. There is a blind guy who knows everything, aka an oracle, which has existed as a literary device since fiction was invented by the Greeks (true story), and which has continued through the stillborn run of "Freaks and Geeks" (Harris). Also, the characters are obvious foils to one another (Daniels relates to McNulty because he has a tarnished reputation going back to the "bad old days," McNulty relates to Bubbs because they're both fuckups, etc.).

So it's an uncomfortable position to take that the show really goes all that far in perpetuating stereotypes when it seems so palpably fictitious at every turn. Yeah, there are a lot of persuasive, moving, or resonant aspects of "The Wire." But it's hard for me to see anyone as believing in its truth any more than they would any other show (except "The Office," which is, like, exactly what work is like [barf]).

A Few Things

-Not my idea, by the way, but (or maybe therefore) worth chewin over: Part of the reason politics are so crazy in America is because during the New Deal, Roosevelt made all manner of government institutions, willy-nilly. That's fine and whatever, it's not like I'm on a tax-and-spend rant here because that would be stupid. But these agencies aren't anywhere in the Constitution! There are basically not any rules about how they are supposed to operate and they kind of do whatever they want. Presidents can change them but they are also kind of entrenched. The Presidential election is important but not as important as we think, given that this is true.

-A store can run out of a certain DVD. When we were in Circuit City (we'd already tried Target), the clerk told us that they sell "The Wire" over the Internet now. He might have been making a clever joke, but that was also the truth apparently. Why do you have a store in real life if you only sell things on the Internet? It's making more and more sense now that we live next to a fledgling apartment complex called ClermontGreene.com.

-On the other hand, Circuit City is very well stocked, carrying every conceivable episode of "Everybody Loves Raymond," one disc of "The Unit" (they probably started with three but a couple people confused it with "The Wire"), and on the New Releases rack, "New Adventures of Old Christine." I'm not going to hate on Julia Louis Dreyfus, who's actually funny (and weirdly hot nowadays), but in a better world Circuit City's DVD section would only have "The Wire" Season 4 and the Raymond fans (aka "Everybody") would be the ones who have to have the Internet.

-A graffiti artist who calls himself (or herself?) "Kunt" keeps tagging our neighborhood. Because of the misspelling it can't just be a dirty word. So someone out there is calling themselves a bad name anonymously and at the same time letting everyone know how they feel about themselves. I bet Kunt has a blog, since it's kind of the same idea.

-I fell asleep reading a book at around 8 p.m. and woke up at around 2:00 a.m. I tried the usual tricks of eating, drinking water, etc., but might be bound for dawn here.

-It's unclear whether the discontinued practice of giving money to homeless people is geographical, biographical. In DC it was just easy to give a few dollars here and there. In Tacoma the homeless people were so obvious about the voracity of their drug addictions that it seemed even more futile than usual to give them anything other than cigarettes, which is what they usually would ask for anyway (which says something geographical I think). In New York there may just be too many, or maybe the weird signage that actually admonishes against giving to panhandlers is working on me. But I kind of doubt that's it.

-With time, it gets easier, not harder, to make big mistakes.

-I miss Water and Vegetables. Puffy Shoe, where are you?

Just for Starters

In writing it is possible to begin by typing the wrong letter. Letters I typed before getting these sentences out:

M
S
H
L

Friday, January 25, 2008

Feel-good Hit of the Winter

Devine Calloway.



With a name like that there is only one path. And it involves big-spins.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Decisions

-New Book
-Plane Ticket
-Insolvency is not so bad
-No long bus rides for a while (but not too long a while)

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

This Is How the Magic Happens

Speedra: does harry potter come out
me: and it probably won't be flattering
Speedra: in the last booK?
me: no dumbledore
Speedra: oh
dude
me: and thaat was just a made up thing
Speedra: i wish harry did
me: so you could fuck him!
Speedra: do you think there is harry potter gay porn
ill look
me: ooh
me too!
Sent at 11:57 PM on Tuesday
me: i'm going to start blogging now

[. . .]

Fantasies Of a Virgin: Harry Potter

Monday, January 21, 2008

Another Good Line

From Evan Lavender-Smith. "Appalachian Spring." Land-Grant College Review 3, 13-19.

Mr. Feingold was angry that funding for the music program had been cut in half, so he threw a euphonium through the ceiling.


This is the introductory sentence to a new paragraph. It continues the pace and tenor of the rest of the piece. The imagery is cartoonish. Some people still know how to make this stuff happen.

Shaving in Fiction!!!

I shaved this morning and it occurred to me that a literary passage ought to be written about such an event.

He brought himself, after weeks of neglect, to the basin. The task had loomed, growing evermore insurmountable as each facial hair crawled farther outward from his face.

The thought of grooming himself had become terrifying. A looming mass of fiery, tentacled redness taunted him. His hand trembled as it reached for his dulled, weather-beaten Gilette Mach III.

Holding the razor poised to strike, he met the cold eyes of his reflection.

"Time to get your life together, hoss."

With that, he set to work.

Sunday, January 20, 2008

A Good Line, But ...

From McCullough, David Willis. Wars of the Irish Kings. New York: Three Rivers, 2002. xx.

To be glib, medieval Ireland sounds like a somewhat crazed Wisconsin, in which every dairy farm is an armed camp at perpetual war with its neighbors, and every farmer claims he is king.


Totally rad! Warring Wisconsin farmers! Nacho cheese! Anarchy!

But ...

"To be glib" is a sucky way to start any sentence. "Guys! Hold on. Just to warn you, I'm about to be seriously glib. So I don't want you to get carried away with what I'm saying. It's just glibness. Okay? Here we go!"

This Is Just So Effing Good



Hello Stranger "Her in These Lights"

Genuine despite all the synthiness. And as I've said before, she is a BAABE!

Rock Band

Rock Band is a new video game that simulates various elements of being in a rock band. There is a toy guitar like that of Guitar Hero, there is a toy drum kit, there is a microphone.

I was chatting with a friend the other night who plays real-life drums, and she remarked that, basically, on drums at least, Rock Band can actually teach people to play songs.

A couple weeks ago, an acquaintance who teaches guitar lessons for a living remarked that several of his students, aged 10 or so, want to learn songs by Kansas because of Guitar Hero.

I'm hoping that in subsequent editions the guitars become more and more complex, until they are just actual guitars, and that we're using video games to make an entire generation into inadvertent musicians.

An Idea for a Video Blog



Take full-length porn videos and edit out the sex scenes. You're left with 5-minute short films.

People would watch these because they get to do a lot of the work. Initially, it might not be clear that the videos are edited porn, but that revelation would be a gratifying punchline. After that, the videos would make an interesting comment of some kind (although maybe not super interesting). What are horny people willing to sit through between scenes of human depravity? The answer involves a lot of babysitters!

One of the conventions of erotic film (talk about diction!) is an everyday situation quickly turning the bend into a not-so-everyday situation involving private parts. People often laugh about the flimsy seductions that drive porn plots to the sex. However, I'm beginning to wonder if it's the sheer improbability that makes those scenes funny? Is seduction really that unlikely?

The reason to ask this question is that porn obviously shows people acting the way a viewer would want to be acting. For most of the screen time, this simply means getting some jollies with an athletically-to-artificially-built other, but in the other scenes it means exercising some form of charm over another person, being uninhibited, etc.

It'd be strangely revelatory to see people acting the way we wish they did, without the ensuing payoff. Or, it would just be ridic and funny if it weren't also sort of :'( . See also.

Friday, January 18, 2008

Toubab


Toubabing around comes from the Wolof, Toubab (n): white person; someone who doesn't know what's going on; moronic automaton. Picked up the Toub in 2003 during a nude excursion to Toubab Diallo, a tiny resort town in Sunu Gaal. The night involved showers and Ivy Leaguers, gin and guilt.

Started being a good little toubab - in earnest - around 2005, waiting tables in Bethany Beach, DE. Just trying to not let it get to me when I didn't get someone's Poffenburger to the table quickly enough or I got a three-dollar tip.

Maintained toubabitude through some harsh events out in Tacoma involving wait-staff and assistant managers at coffee houses, a cigarette habit and far too many beers every day, which did, indeed, net me a decent-sized "spare tire" (inner toubab) from January to April.

Played the Toubab in a brass band until lately when I've been sick and can't jam out on the video-game bikes over in New York Sports Club so I'm skittish of late, my toubab fighting for its life.

The toubabs only come out at 3 a.m., but they are not a frightening race.

Doing a lot of toubabing lately. (Riding the tobabogan = mounting a sled full of toubabs.)

Fucking toubabs. I've got em bad, from my head to my shoe-bobs.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

----

Pretty tired of talking like everything mattered ... Someone asked me today "poetry?" and I said "I don't know how I lost that bug."

We used to be a lot heavier into monstrosity but that was before we knew how find it in the dictionary.

I walked home today about a half a mile and the whole time I kept thinking about how my Seattle Mariners beanie flips up to one side and makes me look like a conehead.

I put on my pants (the same pair) for the third time this work week, it is Wednesday, and I think I just might go for the whole thing -- pants aged five days, they get a certain sweetness about them.

I took some NyQuil last night and woke up thinking about grabbing a steak knife out of the drawer and doing something mean with it but had a couple thoughts in the meantime:
-"Wait you are high on NyQuil [what?]."
-"We don't even have a steak knife."

Without NyQuil, the night before that I dreamed my brother had drowned at a swim meet and I was in the stands. Someone big and furious made a snide comment about drowning in a swim meet (which come to think of it is sort of funny). Over my mom's protests I challenged this lunkhead to an outdoor brawl, like in the movies. We had to push past all these high schoolers in swim suits to get outside and when we got out there the mook pulled of the hood and it was a Girl! And I couldn't fight the Girl because the Girl was a Girl so I went back inside to watch the swim meet and grieve about my brother. [He's fine in real life though.]

There is an expression called "upside surprise" in financial reporting. This is always worth a giggle.

Someone told me the other day "heart attacks aren't funny."

Antonio Banderas was at one point considered one of the sexiest men in the world. Is that still true?

I have not even gone on Billboard.com in over a month to see what's #1.

[.......]

T-Pain again!

I saw some pitstains the other day and they looked pretty natural.



Yeah
.

In some sports the line is out in others the line is in.

Can you fix the way you look in that shirt?

A guy in a wheelchair on the subway today kept himself from drifting around the car by buttoning his coat around the vertical pole that is more commonly used for standing people. I wanted to ask him about the brakes but it seemed sort of a rude idea. He was in good spirits, though, so it would've been fine.

My room smells like excrement and has for several weeks, through no fault of my own (ask around, it's true).

-----

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

I Went One Day


To Shinda Shima

You've Got It All Wrong


You Can't Get It Right

In younger days, I used to have an 8'x4'x1' box and, inspired by the ollie-then-3-flip in this vid, I'd jump over something like three inches tall, but not level out after popping, to get that lazy effect you see in Reynolds' skating. Then I'd go right over to the box and do a f/s 50 on it, just feeling pleased as punch at the simplicity.

In the Kazaa days of college, I found this vid and found out Archers of Loaf were responsible for the song. "I'm never honest with you / Cause you don't deserve it anyway."

Steroid Up and He Won't Come up out That Bitch

Lyrical gym workout, amino acids, we do sell steroids
Lyrical gym workout, amino acids, we do sell steroids
That's right if you wanna press up and bench up for cheap
We do.. have.. steroids

- Kool Keith

Various NY tabloids, including the Times, are taking swipes about the irrelevant baseball steroid scandal's slow, aggravating lava flow trickling down the island to Village of Rap (population: 100?).

The Times piece in particular spills an awkward nut graph trying to explain why rappers would do steroids in the first place. The answer is obvi - a battle aesthetic and (haha) "pressure ... to maintain perfect, even superhuman physiques."

Blaming rap culture for steroids is too crazy, given that many of the greats were total heavies.

In rap, as in most things (barring professional sports), if you want to have more than 5% body fat, most people won't care. If there's anything interesting about the rap-steroids thing (which is debatable), it's that steroids have different applications. 50 Cent is not juicing so he can one-up The Game by making it through 600 bars. He's doing it so that women continue buying his albums.

Also: Mary J. Blige? The Marion Jones of rap? Baby girl is not a runner, and while I give her props for those pipes, they're probably not pumping any more wind thanks to the shots in the butt she's taking. This solidifies my point. In addition to making you hit home runs or knock receivers over like Atari Bigby or (sadly) sometimes make you flip out and kill your family, steroids can make you hot. The extent to which rap is vulnerable to this is the extent to which everyone is vulnerable.

The extent to which rappers are subject to investigation for it is the extent to which they are rich and famous.

Sunday, January 13, 2008

These Corny Assholes Get to Do This for a Living?

Everyone. Please. Stop watching horrible videos on the Internet just because they are on a site that is otherwise tolerable.

Together, we can put a stop to this.

Some Performers of Late

Hello Stranger (So Hot)

Big Fun
(So Fun)

Juiceboxxx (So Famous) -- Of white people, he says: "They wanna rap, but they're afraid." He is not afraid.

Re: Wrong Ideas, or, Tradition and the Individual Talent

"Whiskey in the Jar," as it turns out, offers a specific instance of the general idea I was driving at in last week's post.

A brief look at Wikipedia reveals that the song is a traditional dating back to the 18th century and has been through an unknown, but vast, number of lyrical iterations.

The criteria we use to know that a song is "Whiskey" are less exacting than the ones we normally use to identify music. Each version of "Whiskey in the Jar pretty much must contain several narrative elements:

-Whiskey
-A Jar
-A Femme Fatale
-A Highwayman
-A Lawman

However, across different interpretations, the song's setting moves to different counties, the name of the treasonous woman changes, and the lawman serves different authorities. I haven't done the legwork, but I get the feeling the song has been performed in different keys. It certainly has been through different rhythmic tumblers and fallen all over the place, timbre-wise. All this adds up to mean that "Whiskey" stays "Whiskey" no matter what you do to these things.

This happens in jazz a ton and is not really that weird in most genres of music. Anyone who's sat through a jazz appreciation class knows that "Autumn Leaves" has been done about sixty million different ways. Taken together, the many versions might even demonstrate that there are very few aspects of "Autumn Leaves" that make it what it is.

Weirdly, pop songs ordinarily seem much more rigid, and maybe it's record-shop pedantry that keeps people jumping on somebody's case for singing the wrong words, but something has gone wrong with that. I mean really, who cares if you know whether Britney Spears is saying she's a professional learner or an exceptional earner? (It's the latter for anyone keeping score -- which you shouldn't be.)

What's cool about "Whiskey" is that it's not set up to be expanded musically, although it certainly could be. Because it has lyrics and sort of an obvious storyline, you'd know "Whiskey" from another song, even if the melody and the chord progressions changed.

So one upshot of this is that the line from Metallica's version, which I love, is not actually even technically wrong, given that the lyrics to "Whiskey in the Jar" are not actually known. I'd like to do one more and say that they are not knowable, but that seems a little pomo and I've slogged through enough theory articles to know that that's mostly a cutesy thing theorists do to pat themselves on the back.

But I will take one more shot before I go for a jog. It strikes me as an enormous strength when a song (or a work) demonstrates sufficient flexibility to have its words rearranged, its characters altered, its instruments of performance electrified. Whiskey in the Jar is good whether the Dubliners, Thin Lizzy, or Metallica perform it. I haven't heard the Peter Paul and Mary version but that's probably alright too.

Mistaken or lazy reinterpretation may not be as laudable, but it would be interesting to see if there are any masters out there who can take something fairly unappealing and retroactively turn it into something awesome via the same kind of dinkering we see in "Whiskey."

Sidenote: Sort of a similar thing, although not as broad in scope, is the decision by "The Wire" to include different versions Tom Waits' (or maybe someone else's) "Way Down in the Hole." For more spelunking on "The Wire," check out a recent post by a hazy Sulks.

Sunday, January 06, 2008

Wrong Lyrics

One of my favorite lines comes from Metallica's cover of the Thin Lizzy version of "Whiskey in the Jar," which from what I gather is actually some kind of Irish folk song or, failing that, one that was at least at one point performed by a band known as The Dubliners.

The line in question, sung by Hetfield, goes, "Here I am the ball and chain." It follows the line "Here I am in prison."

Other versions insert the grammatically correct "with," and though the words are slurred (Irish), the ball article may switch to indefinite. If that's the case, the metaphor and/or metonymy implicit in the line get totally wrecked, leaving the listener with some bland-ass lyric unfit for even a facebook profile shoutout.

[Side note: It's kind of a good idea to just drop this construction in everyday and not so everyday situations. When blogging: "here I am the keys and blogspot"; when swimming: "here i am the suit and water." Like, what if someone called you on the phone and said "what's up" and you answered "here I am the beer and TV."? The world would be a little better.]

So my favorite line is technically incorrect. This happens fairly often, and not only to me, I imagine. But it shouldn't really be wrong to have favorite lines where the blanks have been filled "incorrectly." The words in place are usually better -- I picked them out.

So to all you pedants, I'm just writing my own lyrics when I get em inaccurate so don't correct me because whoever wrote them in the first place did just a first draft and I'm a good editor. Plus I don't like blushing about being wrong about things.

Saturday, January 05, 2008

Hemingway, Kerouac, and Fun Activities

Sulky and I were just juicing about The Sun Also Rises (you can tell he's reading it by some of the things he's been saying lately).

Sulks raised a question that comes up often enough: "I wonder how these people had the money to do these things?"

My gut response was "Maybe it was cheaper back then ... ?" which reeks of golden-age mythology that "everything was easier before."

I remember at 18 thinking how great it must have been in the 1950s to go drive around the country like Sal and Dean, and lamenting how America had gotten too dangerous and full of serial killers for anyone to actually hitch across the country anymore.

Living in Paris briefly a few years down the road, I felt the same pangs whenever I passed a cafe and saw a delicious-looking cake or some old guy sipping a little coffee and continued on because I thought I couldn't afford that kind of thing.

It's lamentable that hindsight allows us to slip into this bent nostalgia for activities that, when these authors did them, probably seemed as natural to them as several things that are readily possible for the children of the New Era Age.

So instead of getting sad about the faded glory of driving through Denver or lazing around in a Parisian flat, it's time for a catalog of awesome stuff we can still do.

1) Blogs (thanks to Sulky for the sugg): One day people will probably say "It must've been great when you could just sit around and blog, but now we have this other thing, so you can't do that anymore."

2) Fucked-up poor countries: The supposition being that eventually those will somehow disappear: "Man it must've been so awesome to go fight poverty and genocide in Darfur. Too bad we don't have that anymore."

3) Chinatown bus: When our generation's luminaries get discovered and it is revealed that those of them living on the East Coast used to ride these things, the Fung Wah and the 2000 Coach will seem like impossible relics -- cheap, dirty, adventurous links between some of the stinkingest cities in the world.

4) Poker: The Internet, Matt Damon and ESPN are already making/have already made this reckless toothgrind wholesome and common. Beware: Different forces are doing the same thing to recreational drugs of all varieties.

5) AIDS: When this gets cured, people will wonder about how thrilling and adventurous a dance with death sex had been.

6) T-shirts: I'm not sure what's going to happen to them, but the outlook isn't good.

And finally, several fun things that are now dying or being reinvented.

1) Zines -- now blogs.

2) Porn was once rare and harder to come by -- and sometimes controlled by the Mafia.

3) Race (???)

Ben and Aparna

Ben being gay all over the stage. All over it.



And Aparna being Asian (?) over less of the stage (she's smaller).