The Time & Space Lounge

Good Night and Good Luck

2008-01-01T15:35:00.001-08:00

The Lounge is now closed. After hours at The 505.

Death list winner

2007-12-30T14:09:00.000-08:00

Mr. Tim Finnagain is really starting to creep me out. He's the Celebrity Death List winner for the third straight year after correctly predicting the demise of Lady Bird Johnson and Brooke Astor.
That follows his 2006 win for Shelley Winters, John Kenneth Galbraith and his 2005 win for the Pope and Arthur Miller (what do you 'spose those two are talking about in the afterlife?). And Finnagain was only one year off on Boris Yeltsin.
Nobody else even correctly predicted the death of one person this year.
Head on over to Catfish Vegas Presents... to offer up your predictions for 2008.

Ike Turner

2007-12-12T18:17:00.000-08:00

Anybody? Ike Turner? Drat...

Nobody

2007-09-07T19:21:00.001-07:00

Too bad nobody had Luciano Pavarotti. I guess Jackson P. Napes came closest with Dom DeLuise, but close only counts in hand grenades and latrines.

Her last act of philanthropy

2007-08-13T18:49:00.000-07:00

Donating another mark in Mr. Finnagain's tally:

Brooke Astor kicks the bucket.

Lady Bird...

2007-07-16T23:32:00.000-07:00

And Mr. Finnagain leaps into the lead for 2007. Well picked.

Yeesh...

2007-05-17T00:25:00.001-07:00

Things aren't lookin' so good for Bo Diddley either.

There he goes

2007-04-23T23:15:00.001-07:00

Bummer about Boris Yeltsin...

Death Pool 2007

2006-12-31T17:03:00.000-08:00

Who can dethrone Mr. Tim Finnagain, the two-time defending champion in the Death Pool?

It's too bad Saddam already got hanged, 'cause I would've been all over that one.

Now it's time for you to predict the demise of famous people in 2007. (A note from Mr. Finnagain: Remember, Ted Williams died in 2002, so don't waste your time.)

Think far and wide, and remember, not everyboyd who dies is old, some have crazy freak accidents (Steve Irwin). Deadline to respond (in the comments section) is December 31.

UPDATE: Due to lack of responses, the deadline has been extended until Jan. 7.

UPDATE 2: Again, let's extend this deadline, until Jan. 13.

Update

2006-12-28T08:23:00.000-08:00

T. Finnagain: 2 (Shelley Winters, John Kenneth Galbraith)

Shankara Chase: 1 (Jack Palance)

Catfish Vegas: 1 (Gerald Ford)

3 days remaining...

AND DON'T FORGET TO GET YOUR 2007 ENTRIES IN!!!!!!!!

DEADline: Dec. 31, 2006 at 11:59pm

Death List 2007

2006-12-23T07:16:00.000-08:00

Announcement: There will be no Death List 2007. I've lost interest.

For 2006, one week remains, but so far I have 2 deaths correctly guessed, Shankara Chase has one with Jack Palance, and nobody else has any... So if nothing changes in the next eight days, I win.

Funny money

2006-10-18T23:40:00.000-07:00

Forget about Borat, Kazakhstan ought to be more worried about this.

Y'all Been Sleepin On Active Duty

2006-10-17T15:03:00.000-07:00

Y'all been sleepin on 'Active Duty'.
I'll say it again.
I already said it. Twice is all you get.

I don't know what to think of MC Hammer's current hyphy incarnation, or his previous evangelical preacher phase, but I do know what to think of his post-911 patriotic chapter.

http://www.jacked.net/out.php?id=397

Capitol Hill represent! Ok so maybe that didn't work. So if you still need more convincing head over to amazon.com and plop down the 71 cents for 1 of the 31 used and new copies of 'Active Duty' for sale. I had a chance to pick one up for 99 cents and I let it go and I was so pissed! But now I can atone.

Man check out these user reviews from Amazon and tell me it doesn't tickle your pink. Tell me!

***

(5 stars) mc hammer at his best, January 20, 2006
A Kid's Review
Mc Hammer Active Duty is my favorite cd. Active Duty is better than all of his other cds. Pop Yo Collar is almost the best song I have ever heard in my life. I like how in the cd he intruduces new artists like The Stooge Playas, Analise, and Wee Wee. If you don't have this album, buy it right now.

***

(3 stars) Black Like Me, October 17, 2004
Reviewer: A Very Hip Dood "with many black friends" (Lumberton, Iowa) - See all my reviews
Although I happen to have white skin, I also happen know that many black people really like me. (Or at least they haven't hurt me yet, which is the same thing.) I don't think of these people as black, they're just friends. And I don't see "color" when I look at Mr. Hammer, I just see a good person with a lot of musical talent. This is the kind of fun party music that transcends racial barriers and heals racial wounds. It is not like the kind of "music" that is popular now on MTV, that tries so hard to antagonize others and make them feel guilty about things they never did. Look, I wasn't responsible for slavery, okay? I also think it's great that they made Martin Luther King's birthday a national holiday. Because many of my friends happen to be black and they don't mind that I happen to have white skin, I can feel at ease around ALL people of color now, so that I don't even think about race anymore. Anyway, because of them (my friends of color) I can see how stupid racism is. I can truly say that I know how it feels to be black in this country. With this new insight, I feel it's all right for me to criticize the kind of "music" that is being played on MTV instead of Mr. Hammer's happy celebration music. The new "music" they call rap just isn't what we need right now. It isn't helping things. Bring back Hammer! He is a healing presence for both blacks and whites. You people should be proud of this man, he is a credit to your race.

(hm that was kinda weird, but after looking at his other reviews it appears he is being ironic)

***

(5 stars) SWEEEEET!, January 17, 2002
Reviewer: A music fan
These raps is ill!And there ain't no cure for these illin'hip-hops!This be my favorite album of ALL TIME.This is old school Hammer.He knows his way around the world of hip-hops,and this be his bestest record yet.Hammer is all about the US of A in a ghetto way.He's all red,white and blue,bro,and he is like don't tread on me these colors don't run God bless America.This is goin on my shelf with my other favorite raps,like Vainilla Ice,Snow,and Color Me Bad.Bling bling.

***

So where do you stand on this controversial issue? Get off the fence! Should more hip hop stars get Congressmen to roll in their videos?

Oh shit!

2006-10-14T03:13:00.000-07:00

Perhaps this is a bit late, but happy Friday the 13th everybody!
Now go cause a ruckus or do some crazy creepy shit!
Peace!

Meet the new Boss...?

2006-10-02T09:57:00.002-07:00

A lot of hubub has been made in the press about The Killers' Brendan Flowers' attempt to take over the wheel of Springsteen's Pink Cadillac and bring the E Street Band's sound to Sam's Town (apparently a suburb of Vegas). While his attempts are admirable, it is clear from the sound of his band's new CD that his ambition is much more expansive than his talent. Flowers' does occasionally succeed at conjuring the ghosts' of Springsteen's anti-heroes and Americana archetypes, if not the characters themselves. The arrangements, however, feel like those of a wedding and bar mitzvah 80s-cover band rehearsing for their first wake. When the music does rise to the heights of Flowers' sentiments, he is the one who seems lost--calling on the biblical and automotive metaphors favored by Springsteen without, seemingly, having any idea as to how they might apply.

The indie world, on the other hand, has been busy trumpeting the Boss-y posture and poses of Craig Finn and his band, The Hold Steady. Their new album, Boys and Girls in America (streaming at http://www.vagrant.com/holdsteady_listeningparty/) does come much closer to that old Springsteen sentiment. It starts with their sound, a bit rougher around the edges than the E-Street band but capable of capturing that rising emotional tide that Springsteen likes to ride off into the sunset. Where the Killers try to get to the heart of the Springsteen sound through keyboard washes and synthesized horns, The Hold Steady stacks piano and organ over meaty guitar riffs and heavy drums--and the effect approximates Darkness on the Edge of Town or The Rising without lapsing into out-and-out mimickry. Finn's vocals are much more worn and less invigorated than the Boss, but the lyrical intensity and aspirations are similar. Instead of rebels and their cars, Finn's primary obsessions are Catholics and their drugs. Where Springsteen's protagonists often seem to be pursuing a mythic America they've heard-tell of about but never seen--Finn's protagonists aren't looking for anything more than chemically-enhanced love affairs.

Of the two, the Hold Steady fairs much better in their pursuit of a grand rock-and-roll tradition. It will be interesting to see if these two albums are the forerunners of a new, big Sincerity in American rock after so many years of irony. It also may be a bit troubling--the most obvious aspect of Springsteen's music that's missing from both bands' albums is the lack of a grand optimism. Even when their pursuits were desperate, tragic, dillusional or just pathetic, the Boss' characters were always in search of the American dream and a little piece of the country where they could live it out. The characters in Finn's and Flowers' America seem to have no concept of a better world or even the dream of on. Each seems to live for the moment and seem only to be searching for the best high they can find--be it in a bag of cocaine, a tab of ecstacy, a rock festival, or the arms of someone they one day might be able to love. Personally, I worry that it is not a lack of vision (and it certainly isn't a lack of ambition) that has lead either lyricist to create such transient and vacant characters but, perhaps, the loss of an America worth dreaming about.

Liza Minnelli and the Truth about Emo:

2006-09-29T09:58:00.000-07:00

Since I'm new on this site, I thought I'd preface this entry by saying (1) that I really do hate emo and (2) I am fascinated, pervesely or otherwise, by all things rock. So, you know, don't hate the playa, hate the game. Or whatever:

I’d never heard My Chemical Romance before yesterday but, when there song came on my office-mate’s clock radio I must admit to experiencing some intrigue.

Despite what they may have sounded like before, turns out their new album is a “concept album” of the highest order: Overseen (and, one must presume, encouraged) by Green Day’s producer they’ve started wearing matching uniforms, strarted using marching bands and orchestras for backing and have even started calling themselves “The Black Parade”—a move, which, if NME is to be believed, lead to many confused fans on their recent UK tour…who would boo and throw things when it was announced that MCR wouldn’t be able to appear and that “The Black Parade” would be appearing in their absence. Hell, they even got the ever-arty Lukas Haas to star in their first video for the album (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MCTq6p-fhvw).

While this is all definitely corny it, perhaps, is revealing of why emo has sucked so much: a majority of these bands seem to be made up of really dramatic kids who are way too proficient, music-wise, to get away with play 3-chord ‘I-lost-my-girl-and-if-she-doesn’t-die-I’m-gonna-kill-myself’ pathos driven pseudo-punk. Now that they’ve achieved some success, they’re indulging their arty tendencies…the new MCR album reportedly includes several nods to cabaret, vaudeville and Broadway (HELL, they’ve even got a duet with Liza Minelli!!!!). I guess it’d be easy to call all this over-indulgent and pathetically garish but, the truth is:
I really like the single.
AND
its actually an uplifting little ditty…a song about how all the broken-hearted and strung-out among us will still get by, still survive, together. Ahh, that ol’ freak unity thing.

Maybe by coming clean about their love of the Rum-Tum-Tugger and ‘Cabaret’ these fella have found a way to get out of having to try to sneer while keeping their perfect pouty faces on. At least its not nearly annoying to hear on the radio as Fall-Out Boy or whatever.

Obviously work is slow and boring today….

A Few Facts from A History of the End of the World

2006-09-25T14:39:00.000-07:00

Last week's 'Politics of Culture' podcast (available through iTunes and KCRW's website) features an interview with John Kirsch about his latest book, A History of the End of the World, which examines the text and historical interpretations of the Book of Revelation. It is of note that Mr. Kirsch is Jewish, if only because it informs his outsider interpretation of what is probably the scariest religious document around.

A few tidbits:
'The Rapture' does not occur in Revelation.
This was quite surprising to me (raised Catholic, this is the only book of the New Testament I was not forced to read in high school...) as it plays so centrally in most Christian visions of the end of the world, most famously in the Left Behind series.

In fact, the Rapture was conceived by a 19th c. American protestant minister named John Nelson Darby. Darby thought it unfair that good Christians would have to endure the apocalypse (wars, pestilance, plague, etc.) with all the filthy unbelievers. He, therefore, decided that God would teleport all worthy Christians to heaven right before the big battle, where they could watch Jesus take on Satan from a set of bleachers just to the right of God's thrown.

Interestingly, Darby also conceived the idea (taken from Old Testament passages) that, before Armaggedon can get on, Israel will again become the sole and soverign property of the Jews. So (as also detailed in Left Behind) Evangelicals are really looking forward to the day that those pesky Palestinians bug out and stop hassling the Cananites, as it is an integral sign of the coming of the end. Ironically, Darby and his Evangelical followers believe the Jews will be vanquished to hell just a few days later, when Jesus comes down to judge the living and the dead. This will happen, of course, to any Jew who doesn't realize the err of his ways and convert to Christianity first. But, don't worry Jews, there will be plenty of warnigns and chance to get right w/ God first. Like a couple of old, blind dudes appearing at the Wailing Wall and start breathing fire at anyone who wants to fuck with them. If you see these guys on CNN, my Hebrew friends, run to the nearest church and promptly drink the Jesu's blood/wine and eat those little wafers. Sure, cannibalism's kinda disgusting conceptually but the wafer doesn't taste bad--just a bit chalky and, for being the body of Christ, it is a surprisingly unfilling meal.

Another interesting fact:
The Antichrist doesn't appear in Revelations...
...Although there are a whole host of baddies, including the Grim Reaper and the Four Horseman. At some point in the middle ages, the cast of characters in Revelations came to be considered to large, so some Priests and Monks decided to take the title of 'the Antichrist' from earlier passages of the Bible and make him the Big Bad of Revelations presumably so that it would be easier to explain to the illiterate masses and simplistic pagans.

The whole concept of the Antichrist being a psuedo-Christian who takes over Europe and trying to kill the world with kindness was made up by that pesky John Nelson Darby and expounded upon by his followers.

Ronald Reagan had the Joint Chiefs briefed on their role in Armaggedon!
Much like our current Commander-in-Chief, Reagan believed that the Apocalypse was 'very fucking nigh' but, unlike Bush, was willing to speak openly in public about it. So much so, that he had apocalptic expert/bestselling novelist Hal Lindsey (whose The Late, Great Planet Earth was a best-selling forerunner of the Left Behind series) brief the Joint Chiefs on how the imminent nuclear war with the USSR was actually a postive as it signaled the beginning of Armageddon and, therefore, party time for all good Christians...

...but not Catholics who are going to hell, for giving too much power and creedence to that agent of the Antichrist, the Pope.
Although he had previously considered excising Revelation from his secular-German translation of the Bible (the first of its kind) because it lacked the love and forgiveness messages favored by Christ, Martin Luther had no reservations about using the language of revelations in his rhetorical battle with the Vatican, calling the Pope the Antichrist's lackey (a view that persists amongst Evangelicals to this day).

Other tidbits:
Hitler's talk of the '1,000-year rule for the 3rd Reich' was taken directlty from Revelations, which illuminated the concept of a one thousand-year break between the first and second apocalypse (and you thought there was only one!) during which good Christians would rule the Earth, under Jesus' supervision, until Satan returned for the Final final battle between good and evil. All this, even though Hitler thought the Bible was a bunch of hooey!

Finally, Bush's Secretary of the Interior (who oversees National Parks and conservation efforts, among other duties) James Watt, when asked about his land/water conservation efforts, told a reporter there was no need to conserve the environment, since the Earth isn't going to be around much longer. Obviously, he didn't get the memo about there being two apocalypses.

Calling all Loungers

2006-09-21T01:25:00.000-07:00

So, what's your favorite musical discovery of the past year?
Which band/song/artist/genre/whatev has captivated your attention recently like none other?
Kick the discussion into high gear in the comments (and for those who haven't yet, ya still gotta comment on the last post).

Everybody!

2006-09-16T02:25:00.000-07:00

Calling all Loungers to the first annual Bad Band Names Contest!
Just leave your worst band name in the comments and we'll select the winner later.
Ye-haw!

Modern Times

2006-08-29T11:35:00.000-07:00

I bought the new Bob Dylan album today. I don't want to make any comments before listening to it thoroughly. But so far I think it's really really good!!!

Long live Bob!

The Epistles of Aunt Judith Evelyn Harper St. Clair (a cursory examination)

2006-08-25T16:45:00.000-07:00

It is with great pleasure that I present to the Time & Space Lounge, the unabridged epistles of Aunt Judith and Harlequin St. Clair. Perhaps this sampling will whet the appetites of our readers, in which case we may be able to raise the funds necessary to procure further missives from the respectable St. Clair estate.

***

"My absolute limit!"

From the desk of Judith Evelyn Harper St. Clair-

Dearest nephew, it is I who must apologize for last nights failed attempt to silence once and for all the slanderous tongues at the meeting of the Friends of the Maritime Museum. You see, were it not for that hideous shrew of a woman, that harridan Violet Venable, I certainly would not have stooped to such gauche behavior. To think I actually shook my fan at the chairwoman with such contempt. I, Judith Evelyn Harper St. Claire. I hope you can forgive me, Harlequinn. Your valiant efforts will not go unrewarded.

Harlequinn! Fetch for your Aunt Judith the despot who soiled this linen. See here? The stain. I, a proper and most devout Catholic, cannot begin to fathom how Lester, your unpolished country cousin, can produce such vile secretions from his own person. Like Rapunzel in her tower, I feel trapped by the filth he has flung my way. Fetch him for me Harlequinn, and when I have properly scolded him and believe he has reasonably accounted for his malicious actions, you and I will dine beneath the bridge with the sweating hobos of yesteryear.

From the desk of Harlequin Bradshaw St. Clair-

Aunt Judith, it appears that our cousin Lester has a far stronger appetite for destruction. It seems that his bobbing for crawdads at the bay leads to a malevolent fate with our fair chicks. You see, he places them in their drinking water, and when they dip thier utilitarian beaks for what they think will be a refresing cool-down, well, I don't think I shall ....... we found one of our dear hens with this beast of a sea creature embedded in its supple tuft. Lester has brought on a true reckoning, and he must be made example of! Judith, I leave his demise in your hands..... spare no rod!!!!! I will send our man searvant Quincy down as quickly as you can sing one of our very songbook prayers.

Sincerely,
Harlequinn Bradshaw, St. Clair

Sharon Stone Stole Her Patented Beaver Flash From Tangerine And She Knows It

2006-08-25T11:55:00.000-07:00

(actual conversation)

J: hey have you seen that one movie about the bounty hunters with uh...
R: oh uh.. Domino?
J: no no... the other one with the...
R: bounty hunters... bounty hunters... um, Garbage Pail Kids the Movie?
J: Yeah!

***

J: hey have you seen that movie about the fashion show...
R: zoolander?
J: no older...
R: Ready to wear?
J: no not that one
R: Garbage Pail Kids the Movie?
J: Yeah!

***

J: Hey do you remember that socialist musical that came out and there was all this controversy?
R: Oh um Evita!
J: No it was something else... it's got that song about the workers... and there were midgets...
R: GPKTM!
J: Yeah!

Death Pool 2006 review

2006-08-25T10:49:00.001-07:00

So we are almost 3/4 done this fine year. Let's recap the death pool.

Finnegan is currently leading with two deaths correctly guessed.

No one else has guessed any, but Catfishvegas may be on his way to his first score with Gerald Ford and JLC appears to have made a timely call with Fidel Castro, though the next four months will decide.

Some notable deaths that went unpredicted this year have been:

Kirby Puckett--that would have been a hard one to guess

Dana Reeve and JonBenet's mother--deaths of tragedy survivors

Slobodan Milosevic

James Van Allen--which I predicted, incorrectly, last year (Ted Williams Syndrome)

Oleg Cassini--the guy who designed my famous short jackets, who I was planning on guessing next year (Reverse Ted Williams Syndorme)

Abu Musab al-Zarqawi--come on guys, have some faith in our troops!

Aaron Spelling

Ken Lay--perfectly foreshadowing the Cheney death I predict for Christmastime

Syd Barrett

Mickey Spillane

Death Pool 2006 review

2006-08-25T10:49:00.000-07:00

A Funny about Net Neutrality

2006-08-18T00:55:00.000-07:00

(JIM, a simple guy with dark hair, sits alone at home,
on a crappy black ikea couch, talking on his cellphone
to LUKE.

LUKE is dressed like a member of Fleetwood Mac;
has on an 80's hair wig, aviator glasses, and
is wandering around a public park weirdly stroking
his chest hair.)

JIM:
So.

LUKE:
Complex issue here.

JIM:
Yes.

LUKE:
Black and white or gray and grayyyy?

JIM:
Both.

LUKE:
Ok.

JIM:
Regulation good or regulation bad?

LUKE:
Depends.

JIM:
Why don't they open up a new internet and just charge extra for that if they want to make cash for premium service?

LUKE:
Dunno, dude.

JIM:
This is going to drive me crazy thinking about it.

LUKE:
What about municipal wifi?

JIM:
Do you want to pay for it?

LUKE:
I'd pay 1 cent on every dollar for muni wifi.

JIM:
Yeah?

LUKE:
Sure would. Shitfire! Free internet for e'rybody!

JIM:
You'd still have to send some packets to a server at one of the telcoms eventually.

LUKE:
Oh...true.

(LUKE produces a ripe plum from his pocket and eats it.)

JIM
Well then. I guess we're powerless.

LUKE:
No way, man. I'm not powerless. Look at these guns!

JIM:
Nice.

LUKE:
Do you wanna call your congressman or something?

JIM
Ok. (Calls Congressman Bob.) Hello?

(CONGRESSMAN BOB in his office, spinning around in his chair
smoking cigars, putting into a mug. Documents and pictures
of himself with famous politicians line his tiny office.
He also has an odd stain on his shirt.)

BOB:
Congressman Bob here, what do you want?

JIM:
Please vote for net neutrality!

BOB:
Net Boobality! I'll vote it down just for you!

JIM:
No, no. Net Neutrality. About regulating telcoms.

BOB:
I have a telephone. Yes. Are you the telephone repairman?

JIM:
Um...yes.

BOB:
About time you called! I was just about to have my morning game of Pinocle. Do you like Pinocle, son?

JIM:
Vote for Net Neutrality, ok bye!

BOB:
I love you!

JIM:
I love you, too!

BOB:
I love you too. What a nice young man.

(CONGRESSMAN BOB twirls a drumstick.
(not a drumming drumstick, rather, a chickenwing.))

LUKE:
Feel good?

JIM:
Yeah. I guess. I just...

LUKE:
What?

JIM:
I don't know what to think about Net Neutrality. I am absolutely blank.

LUKE:
Ever wonder...what is the internet like in Japan?

JIM:
I bet they're way ahead of us.

FIN

Palm and moon

2006-08-07T19:35:00.000-07:00

Palm and moon
Originally uploaded by lionelfrailey.

Best way to respond to:

2006-08-03T20:22:00.000-07:00

You'd rather have Saddam in power?

2006.5

2006-07-02T20:57:00.000-07:00

Woke up Jan. 1 on a floor in Portland. Continued celebrating for several days.
Accepted two of Stu's pals as roomies.
Leered at college girls in Chapel Hill, N.C. for a week.
Saw Fishbone, Chango Malo, the Little Morts, Bob Dylan twice, Fourkiller Flats, Tapes N Tapes, Cold War Kids, Neko Case and Band of Horses.
Left civilization and my mind behind in first-time trips to two Arizona lakes - Powell and Patagonia.
Actually paid for a haircut (and thought it an event of such magnitude to note it on the calendar - March 11).
Saw some Idaho relatives for the first time in years - and caught a spring training game.
Made the most of whirlwind PHX trips.
Watched more basketball than in years.
Hosted the Great Doctor Chung.
Had a birthday that couldn't be beat and didn't wake up until the next morning.
Joined a comic collective as the in-house obituarist.
Re-established the Kitchen Bed upon Stu's arrival.
Celebrated two weddings of ol' ADW peeps.
Survived a day at the water park without horrendous sunburns.
Swung through the Northland - Flagstaff and P-Town.
Hosted the Illustrious Morkunas.
Breathed in an amazing rainstorm (just now in fact).

On the whole, I've been blessed/cursed with far less nonsense than 2005.5...

Notable new albums 2006.5 - Band of Horses, Calexico, Neko Case, Neil Young, Pearl Jam ...
Films - X3 was alright... nothing else has seemed worth the time.

In closing, the same new half year's resolution as last year: Henceforth, I will kick ass.

1st half of 2006

2006-06-30T23:06:00.000-07:00

It's July 1 on the east coast, anyhow.

Celebrated new year by throwing beer bottles against walls, got a stern talking-to from a French cop for trying to tip over a motorcycle… my new year’s resolution was: be more aggressive. A good start.
Got involved in a crazy movie project with a woman who knew nothing about filmmaking… dropped out
Producer asked if he could produce “Thursday is Soup”.. two months of preproduction... One quick day of shooting... Two furious weeks of post-production
Getting into the music of Jonathan Richman.
Long nights of writing “The Bike Trip”… lots of cigarettes and coffee
Weeklong illness in isolated Paris apartment
Playing poker hands against myself to kill time
Playing guitar
Tuesday afternoons teaching English to Maya (9), Noe (12), and ??? (14)
Garth turns 18
Garth traveling most of February--no money for phone--very isolated February
Lucked into free 4-day supply of weed… wander around Paris… feel magic powers in front of green, modernist painting of Jesus in Notre Dame and in sparkling waters on Seine at night… last day dizzy in bed, throw up
Reading Finnegans Wake and Ulysses high--the pinnacle of literary experiences
Sunday nights at the Galway, talk a lot to Barry…so few people in Paris
Studying Irish language with book and CDs
Playing guitar on the street at 1am in the middle of January and a guy invites me for a beer, then invites me to anarchist squat in suburbs of paris for punk concert
American friend Alison visits for a week
Hanging out with Thor during long days with nothing to do
Arranging a week of individual rendez-vous with friends to say good-byes
Fly to Philadelphia… join mile-high club
Extreme unease arriving in U.S.
Move into new apartment in Philadelphia with Garth
3 days of bliss… a week of arguing…then things get normal
Check out a few Sundays at an Episcopalian church at Garth’s urging--free soup
Protest the restaurant that fired my brother unfairly…cops come… but by then I’m talking very reasonably with the manager who fired my bro and we come to a peaceful understanding…cops leave
Get hired at Kaplan, Get fired from Kaplan
Get hired for construction job… told no work at construction job
Get hired for English teaching job… never get called for any classes
Get hired for wedding/bar mitzvah Videography… get fired on first day for not having my own transportation
Spending hours at coffeeshop looking for jobs on craigslist, writing resumes, etc.
Depressing feeling of applying for jobs at burrito shacks, grocery stores
Getting hired at Hilton… made more money the first three days of training than I had made the first three months of this year!
Work is fun at Hilton and I have enough money to buy food (even at a restaurant) and pay my own bills.
Mike at the Hilton becomes my friend… I see his band play
I go to Easter Services and my atheist parents call me ‘filth’ and ‘scum’ and stop talking to me for two months
First public showing of Thursday is Soup… lots of laughs
Walking around Philly with Andrea, Garth, and my brother, so many sunny days
Some great evenings with Tim
Do Videography and editing for a multimedia marketing company… head of company wants me to be partner in the company and head creative guy
Go to a marketing brainstorming session with a bunch of pompous dimwits
Get hired to shoot landscaping footage for HGTV television show
Getting into the music of Daniel Johnston.
Write obituaries for Pat Sajak and Phil Collins and post them around Philadelphia--get angry response on blog
My brother coming over and being very entertaining, but not entertaining the notion of getting a job and doing anything useful with a single one of his waking hours
Annoying new hire homosexual at work flirts with me, calling me “Skippy”, “Sassy”, “Crazy Snake Man”… he gets himself fired after making a porn with his boyfriend in a hotel room
Spend 2-year anniversary with Garth in Egg Harbor City, NJ. Take mushrooms in motel. Agonizing trip through horrors of television, bad relationship with family. Still kind of fun somehow.
Andrea leaves Phillly. Tim leaves Philly. Garth leaves Philly for summer camp in Minnesota. Parents and brother leave for one month in Argentina.
Start renewed effort to obtain better health: quit smoking, start running, eat more fruits and vegetables.
Resume writing “The Bike Trip” after four-month break.
Adventurous weekend in New York, wearing crazy glasses, filming tidbits of things I see, winning at darts, then defending two female friends from a violent lunatic--getting in fight in apartment hallway--twice, because the fucker pretended he was gonna leave then tried to sneak into the apartment again--cops came and he got arrested.
Preparing new movie with Chaplinesque Nigerian character to be shot in July
Parents put our dog of 11 years to sleep, then wonder if the dog was really sick enough, maybe made wrong decision…they didn’t even tell me til the next day
Preparing first ever stand-up comedy routine with the help of my brother for competition in July

Y'all should check this out

2006-06-21T00:57:00.000-07:00

Ol' Bushy Boy singing John Lennon's Imagine.

Get Ready

2006-06-19T20:17:00.000-07:00

Here's what I suggest:

I think that on July 1, everybody should post, in list format, what they have experienced in the first six months of this year. This happened on Mr Chair's blog last year, and it's quite interesting to list your memories of the half-year. No details required, just headlines--well, more like predicates.

For example, I will make up a brief list for a character we'll call Jeremiah Wing.

Tried to quit smoking.
Broke up with Jen.
Spent lots of afternoons at Wiley Park reading books.
Learned how to cook beets.
Got food poisoning at Tuccetti's.
Got drunk at cousin's funeral.

See! How fascinating! Just a titillating little bit of info to help you get a scrambled idea of what the person has been up to.

Get ready. July 1 we ask, What have you experienced in your first half of 2006?

Is this how it must go?

2006-06-06T23:32:00.000-07:00

Do we only get one brief time of glory? And spend our twilight years doing this:

Paul Simon's crappy new album

Oh, the humanity! Was Sounds of Silence just a dream? Did it ever really happen? Kathy's Song! What happened to the power behind that song?!?!?!

I barely feel well enough to go on living.

Stephn Colbert = Hero or Zero?

2006-05-15T20:42:00.000-07:00

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-4973617448770513925

I fairly non-political, but I can comment on the comedy. Sometimes, the biggest, stinky-est pieces of comedy are the most enthralling and exciting.

And I can't believe they didn't screen what he was going to say.

Death Strikes Again

2006-04-30T03:44:00.000-07:00

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

John Kenneth Galbraith takes the fall and Tim Finnagain chalks up another score on his list.

We made it 100 years!

2006-04-18T02:54:00.000-07:00

April 18th is the 100th anniversary of the horrific San Francisco Earthquake of 1906. The whole fucking city was wiped out by a massive earthquake that was really high on the richter scale and lasted like 10 minutes. There are too many links about this for me to suggest just one. Basically, everyone in the city that didn't have syphilis or tuberculosis burned alive in fires that erupted after all of the buildings collapsed. Just kidding, the official death toll was less than 700 people city-wide (many know this to be an inaccurately low number).

Now, what we do here in S.F. is celebrate the 7 old people that lived through the earthquake that are still alive. There is a huge parade (only the parade for Gay pride is bigger) and we all congratulate these centigenarians for still being alive.

Yay!

Earthquakes are scary shit that should not be mocked.

It is a bad idea to tempt fate by mocking the celebration for quake survivors.

I hope everyone is enjoying their "quake-free" places of residence.

Peace bitches!

Next country to invace!

2006-04-11T22:45:00.000-07:00

http://video.fosfor.se/next-country-to-invade

It starts out like one of those Jay Leno bits and then gets kind of frightening. I love it but not as much as I love you.

I was right all along...

2006-04-05T01:48:00.000-07:00

Check it out!

http://www.tatom.org/documents/CNN.com-StudyNewstudyshows.htm

Yay!

I am an unselfish, caring, boyfriend, willing to do whatever it takes...

Robot

2006-04-03T21:17:00.000-07:00

Robot
Originally uploaded by lionelfrailey.

Robot had a tough day. He was in need of rest. But rest was not to come. He had to forge on, had to divine the wishes of his master, had to please the heavens.
So he did...

File Under Wilco

2006-03-22T10:52:00.000-08:00

I don't know how many loungers read pitchforkmedia.com, but I found this sublime sentence in a review of the new Loose Fur album:

"If he never made strange squawks with Loose Fur, Tweedy may not have amassed the courage to make Yankee Hotel Foxtrot or shove Jay Bennett and his tangled old-white-guy dreads toward indie oblivion; without Loose Fur, the remarkable solo on "At Least That's What You Said" may still be a mere guitar-god figment and "pretentious Wilco" would probably still sound something like 'Via Chicago'."

Maybe this will be a bit controversial, as I'm sure some loungers might want to defend Jay Bennett. Or not. I just love this sentence.

You can find the whole review here http://pitchforkmedia.com/record-reviews/l/loose-fur/born-again-in-the-usa.shtml

Damn the Wildcats...

2006-03-04T17:14:00.000-08:00

How not to play basketball:
Lead for 39 minutes, then commit two horrendous turnovers, miss two critical free throws and then airball a desperation three-point attempt with a man open as the buzzer runs out. Oh, and do it at home, on the last game of the year, when it really matters.

Finnagain Films

2006-02-28T13:09:00.000-08:00

The Bike Trip has been on pause for about three weeks. I had a lot of things to think about and needed a time to rethink my purpose in writing the second half of the trip after the intense experiences of writing about Amsterdam and arriving in Berlin. I needed to do some other kinds of writing. I wrote a couple songs for guitar and the first poem in more than a year. I have also been busy preparing a shoot for my long-awaited (by me) short film "Thursday is Soup". I wrote it 2.5 years ago and finally found a producer and we put together a nice cast and crew and shot the film on Saturday. We finished most of the editing by 6am that night. We have a solid first draft, but as it is still missing some sound, I don't want to show it here because if you'll just wait two or three more days, we should have a final draft with all the sound added and graphics placed in.

In the meanwhile, I just linked up a new film. It is an experimental short I made with Garth and her sister on a random afternoon just after New Year's. One of the main experimental points was shooting every shot one after another and making the film like that with no other editing. We made up the story as we went along. It's just a random weekday afternoon project, so don't criticize it too harsh. But still, I think there are a couple cool shots and the story ended up having some meaning to me in some sort of allegorical way. Garth is the one with short hair.

We are moving to Philadelphia in 9 days.

Here's the experimental movie.

http://homepages.nyu.edu/~als319/three.mov

Week in haiku

2006-02-12T14:17:00.000-08:00

California Stars
Over the phone from Freaktown,
Distant Tweedy gold

Dunks and treys abound
In the Arizona wins;
Suns and ‘Cats amaze

Late night, birthday rites,
An old friend turns ‘nother year
Motley Crue plays loud

New tunes from dead men,
Discovery always yields
Amazing moments

(and an old favorite)

Said he was Swedish
But in fact from Switzerland
What an ugly lie

Dear Jeff Tweedy: I want to have your baby.

2006-02-09T23:45:00.000-08:00

This will be a bit of a rant on the show that I just got home from seeing. When I say "rant", I mean free flowing piece of prose or disconnected, but connected, series of thoughts on a recent experience. Sometimes "rant" can have negative connotations, as in the comedy of one Dennis Miller. This story has no negativity.
I knew the show was going to be good. If I did not think the show was going to be good, then I would not have paid a scalper above the face value of the ticket for the show.
Jeff Tweedy is the consummate performer. I heard no less than six (6) people utter that last sentence as the crowd was milling out of the venue. I am not going to describe any specific magical moments from the show (I paid for the damn ticket, that has to be worth something), but rather I mean to give you all an idea of the general feeling that came from witnessing this most recent thing of beauty on the Tweedy resume.
Also, I am drunk.
At any rate:

1. I called Catfish during the predictably awe inspiring rendition of "California Stars".
2. I nearly wept during "I am trying to break your heart".
3. I considered buying Glen Kotche's solo album about halfway through his set as opener.
4. Glen Kotche is the drummer from Wilco, and he has a fucking SOLO album coming out.
5. I was floored, speechless, and orgasmic when Jeff stepped out onto the edge of the stage and played his last song without the enhancement of the PA. It was just him, the guitar, and the entire audience. I will NOT tell you what song he played.
6. The drummer from Wilco has a solo album coming out in March. A drummer...with a solo album.
7. The rendition of "Heavy Metal Drummer", with just Jeff and Glen playing, will be one of my most lasting memories of Jeff Tweedy and Wilco (Jeff finally got Glen to twirl his drumstick).
8. Jeff Tweedy and Mike Doughty need to have a "banter-off" to see who is the more charming and disarming, while still unbelievably talented, stage performers.
9. Audiences in San Francisco smoke some really, really, really quality marijuana.
10. The Fillmore is my new favorite place to listen to Jeff Tweedy sing. It is a GREAT venue.

This was one of the best shows I have ever seen. The word on the street is that there is another Jeff Tweedy/Wilco documentary DVD in the works. I have five (5) words:

I AM BUYING THAT DVD.

Have a good night brothers.

P.S. Glen Kotche's stuff is "good", but don't misunderstand and think that I think that his stuff is "great". I will probably obtain tracks from his solo album illegally on the internet rather than actually paying for them. Or, maybe I will actually pay for the album...it's up to you. You know what they say: "I always miss this bus. I can't believe I am actually here to catch it this time."

P.P.S. A great quote from the evening occurred when Jeff Tweedy began to tell a story about a run-in that he had experienced with one of the clerks from Amoeba Records (a famously kick-ass record store in S.F. and L.A.), and just after the start of the story he told Glen Kotche to "Take five Ringo." Are you fucking kidding me? That is just too brilliantly precious.

Peace out bitches!

Eats With Face Reporting on Face that was Eaten

2006-02-06T10:06:00.000-08:00

So apparently the story about the first ever face transplant wasn't even the best part of the story. The woman had half of her face eaten off by her own dog -- a labrador retriever. She was unconscious because she had taken a heavy dose of sleeping pills. Some people are claiming that she was attempting suicide. She said she discovered her face was missing when she tried to light a cigarette and found that she had no lips with which to hold the cigarette. Must have been some strong sleeping pills to wake up and not first feel the tingling sensation that comes with having half your face missing before your desire for a cigarette kicks in.

So. The night before she wants to die and takes sleeping pills to off herself. Then, she wakes up and finds that half her face has been eaten by her own dog. She looks in the mirror and finds that she no longer has a nose, lips or chin...and then decides that now she wants to live. I think if I was already attempting suicide and then lost half of my face to my own goddamn dog I'd take that as I sign to complete my suicidal effort.

So what was the dog thinking? Maybe he was just trying to wake her up -- scared to find his mistress unresponsive to his nuzzles and nibbles. Maybe during one of the nibbles he got a little taste of that flesh and couldn't resist. ANd then maybe he just thought she was dead and saw no reason to ignore a free meal.

Didn't this happen to that poor UA law student a few years ago. I think her boyfriend beat her to death and then a few days later they found her in her apartment and her dog had eaten most of her body. To be fair to the dog, I think she was a tiny little asian girl.

Maybe sometimes when dogs bark at you, what they're really trying to communicate is: "I'll do what you tell me to do now... oh no, go ahead and hit me, asshole. But listen up, if you ever die and it's just me and you...I'm going to fucking eat you. And I'm going to start with your face. Ha. Rufff." One more reason to stick with cats.

One Year Without Work

2006-02-02T10:45:00.000-08:00

Today marks one year since my boss at the company where I was working for 20€/hr told me she couldn't let me stay since I was refused for the work visa. I stopped working that day and haven't worked since. Apart from once a week English for the last four months.

After losing the job, I lost my apartment. I had a cough and couldn't see the doctor. I coughed for a year and a half until my parents paid for a doctor visit a month ago.

I somehow managed to survive. I can't say all my methods.

Now it's a year later. I still have 60€ left. I had another little run of bad luck this week, losing out on 850€ I thought I could count on to unexpected misfortunes. I also got an audition for a job that would pay 600€ and I hoped that at last I'd get one of those paid acting gigs. But no. Dirty bad luck and instead of surving on 910€ I must survive on 60€.It must last for one month. Then I come back to the States and look for work. And when I get enough money, I leave again.

In the meantime, this year, I wrote two full-length screenplays, acted in seven short films, directed four short films, starred in one feature film, had one short play produced in California, and have written almost 250 pages of this bike trip book.

I also managed to take 3 trips to Amsterdam, one trip to Ireland, one trip to Cannes for the film festival, a three-week bike trip to Belgium, Holland, Germany, and Czech Reublic, three trips to the U.S. including a Greyhound trip to Denver. I did two of those flights on frequent flyer. My parents paid for my Thanksgiving visit.

I'm gonna get a job in Philadelphia and I think it'll be fine. But it's pretty depressing looking for jobs and constantly running into phrases like these:

Must be able to multi-task in a fast-paced environment
Candidate must be self-motivated and pay meticulous attention to detail
Ability to deliver against established deadlines and to work under tight time constraints
Ability to handle multiple priorities in a fast paced environment
Adaptive to change and tight deadlines

It doesn't depress me that companies would be asking me to be these things in order to work for them. Rather, that such behaviors have become imperative to all business culture, and thereby get absorbed into the culture at large. I'm worried I won't meet anybody who isn't always multi-tasking in a fast-paced environment.

I'm hoping to get a job in film production or teaching English. A year without work has turned out very interestingly and has changed me much for the better, I think. But I wouldn't mind some money for a while and I know my health could definitely pass on the shortchanging I always give it. (Nobody knows of a computer I could buy for cheap, do you?) But this is temporary work. If I make enough, I shouldn't have to work for another six months. Garth and I will be going to India in September and things are cheap there.

Also, today is James Joyce's birthday. Happy 124th up there in the astral plane. Finnegans Wake is a great book and just keeps getting better.

I just totally pissed on a homeless guy!!!

2006-02-01T02:55:00.000-08:00

I have already documented my thoughts on this forum concerning the relationship between public transportation and public urination. Keeping that in mind I would like to relate a story about the latest battle between my bladder and the streets of San Francisco.
I got off of work at the hospital tonight at midnight and decided to go have some drinks with two of my lesbian co-workers from the Emergency Department. We went to a pub near the hospital which meant that when we were done I still had about a twenty minute bus ride to my neighborhood at about two o'clock in the morning. When I got on that bus I had been drinking for two hours without a trip to the urinal. I had 4 beers (Stella Artois) and two shots of Fernet.
When I got off of the bus I had to piss like a racehorse. I walked a block and a half until I found an alley that was suitable for the covert excretion of urine. I walked past two sleeping bums to a set of two garbage cans (the blue kind that are designated for recylable materials) and got my dick out to relieve myself. Much to my suprise, and his, there was a bum crouched behind the garbage cans in the space between the cans and the building. He was apparently sleeping in a position similar to that of a catcher behind the plate in a baseball game.

Bum: "What the fuck man?!?!"

Me: "Sorry, I didn't see you 'bro'!"

Bum: "Dude!"

Me: "Sorry 'bro'. I'll finish over here." (I proceed to piss into the middle of the alley. The other bums begin to stir.)

Bum: (Unintelligible mumblings)

Me: (After finishing) "Sorry about pissing on you."

Bum: "Have a good night brother."

I always thought that urinating in public was perfectly harmless...a victimless crime. As it turns out, I was exactly right...

To each and every one of you I say, "Have a good night brother."

Is this indicative of the South?

2006-01-31T19:07:00.000-08:00

A radio station in Raleigh, N.C. has this evening segment called American Midol. Any woman with PMS can call in, request any song she wants and they'll play it as long as she screams the chorus.
Very strange indeed.

Top 5 Most Controversial Subjects On The Time & Space Lounge

2006-01-31T14:35:00.000-08:00

1. Bob Dylan
2. Journalism
3. France
4. The Family Guy
5. The Artistic Validity Of "Comic Books"

Top 5 Least Controversial Subjects On The Time & Space Lounge

1. Masturbation
2. Michael Jackson
3. Misogyny
4. New Orleans
5. Blogging Frequency

special thanks to "unnamed source"

Rodgers over and out

2006-01-19T14:41:00.000-08:00

http://wildcat.arizona.edu/papers/98/240/02_1.html

Chris Rodgers was dismissed from the UA Wildcats by Coach Lute Olson. I have to admit, I never liked the guy and I like almost anyone you put in a red and blue uniform. Something about the guy is off. It's almost like he's a little retarded. He would get the ball and then dribble around as if the goal was just to be on the floor. To be fair he's a decent shooter and a good defender. Some call him a great defender...eh...sure, he's real obnoxious. But how many times did you see him steal a ball and then dunk it home? Rarely. He wasn't a full package and he's mildly retarded. No matter how little I think of him there is no doubt that this is another dose of ex-lax for a team already shittin' water.

A short prayer for the Wildcats:

God. Could you see to it that the Wildcats at least make the NCAA tournament. Seriously, you have no idea how much it would mean to me and some of my friends. Much of our sense of self-worth comes from how well the Wildcats do. So them not making the tournament may result in many UA fans suffering depression, masochism and penile dysfunction. Thanks, God. Well, while I'm at it, I was wondering if you were a Broncos fan. I am. I moved to Denver a year ago and through myself right into it. I read the sports page nearly everyday and defend Jake Plummer's good name when people trash talk him in public even though he's a fucking Sun Devil. So, if you have time would you mind watching the AFC championship on Sunday and if the Steelers are in the lead at the half maybe you could cause the Steelers quarterback to have an unexplainable brain hemmorage at half-time. Cool. Nice talking to you.

It's Hard To Determine, At The Start, What You Will Be Able To Bear For A Lifetime

2006-01-18T17:10:00.000-08:00

I really hate abandoned baby strollers. They're like a haunted item. I've never seen an abandoned stroller with a baby in it; that might be worse. But not worse than my imagination.

What was the parent thinking? Fuck you, kid. Walk. In LA you see dirty ass torn up strollers hooked up on a chain link fence next to the freeway. All sooty with carbon monoxide and then sun bleached. I like my roommate's explanation. He thinks it's possible that the child grew really big all of a sudden and had to get out.

I tell you, there's nothing worse than driving home from work and having to see this while you pull into the driveway. Hey, if anyone wants a free stroller! There's a couple dry leaves in the seat, just brush those aside and you're good.

I'm gonna burn some sage and call it an early night. Yeah.

First win

2006-01-16T07:02:00.000-08:00

for the death pool is your reigning 2005 master of the death pool, Mr. Tim Finnagain.

Shelley Winters is dead. Read it and weep.

11.5 months left, though. Too bad nobody picked Sharon. He looks like a shoe-in.

Oregon coast

2006-01-11T18:17:00.000-08:00

Oregon coast
Originally uploaded by lionelfrailey.

Absolutely amazing.

Don't Think Of It As Failure, Think Of It As A Challenge Which Has Defeated You

2006-01-11T17:13:00.000-08:00

It's been a crazy year. I've seen a lot and my advice to you is this: Don't tell a GIRL that you think 'Hackers' is one of the worst movies ever. There is some sort of juice in the female blood that clouds their judgment when it comes to this movie. You will never see them naked again I promise you.

This is my bigoted opinion for today. Thanks for listening.

The Shape Of Punk To Come

2006-01-06T15:08:00.000-08:00

I recently arranged my record collection chronologically by DECADE recently and it gave a new perspective on what music looked like during the last 50 or 60 years. Looking at my entire collection, there is actually one point where everything changes. Everything before it is linear and predictable, then this one event happens in the record collection and it's like a break, nothing is ever the same again.

I'm talking about the first two records by the Velvet Underground in 67/68 and the first two Stooges records in 68/69.

Seriously, there is nothing before it that sets a precedent (psychedelic a little bit, but not really. musicians have always been weird and intoxicated, hippies didn't do it first, plus the VU and the Stooges are'nt lumped in with the psychedelic artists.) and everything that follows is noticibly different from the music that existed before it. It might help to have a visual. If you could flip through my records and just see all the covers before the break, and then all the records covers that come after it. This is the clear breaking point.

People give the Velvets and the Stooges credit for creating Punk Rock, but it's really the birth of all modern music as we know it.

Topics for discussion:

1. I wondered, if they're the influence for all the shit we love today, what influenced them? What did they listen to? With the Velvets it was POP, but they added ART. Iggy loved the blues. He wanted to make his own version of it. He succeeded.

2. What is the next significant breaking point or zeitgeist of influence in my record collection? It's very hard to tell. The line gets really blurry. Funk becomes disco becomes synth pop becomes house music becomes synthpop which they now call electroclash. Or funk becomes post punk and hip hop which is just new blues. The #1 contender that I've found so far is Public Enemy's "It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back" It didn't invent hip hop, but consider it's influence on sample based music (hip hop, electronic, beck, etc...) and the HEAVINESS of music that we listen to now. All the new musical trends we have today come from that record.

Loving the Alien

2006-01-03T20:13:00.000-08:00

I believe there were no less than 5 loungers in the same place at the same time a few nights ago. Besides Mr. Chair repeatedly telling Catfish to STOP SHOUTING like a maniac, this is what I remember:

Eats With Face likes to look at internet porn before masturbating.
I like to look at internet porn while masturbating.
And Z likes to look at internet porn AFTER masturbating. eeeewwwww...

I think there needs to be a term to describe when you're clicking on a bunch of X's to close, like, 14 windows of internet porn. And shame is not the word I'm looking for.

running out of time

2005-12-30T14:34:00.000-08:00

We got quite a few runners for the death pool.

Deadline is just over 24 hours from now. enter quick if you haven't yet.

The Death of Pat Morita (AKA Karate Kid's Miyogi)

2005-12-23T15:42:00.000-08:00

Sadly, Pat Morita died.

http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001552/

My stepdad seriously looks like him. Don't joke.

05. Who Eats The Cracker?

2005-12-07T20:21:00.000-08:00

Yoll didn't die in the war and neither did I. Terrible. Just terrible. What a curse for us to have to try and return to normal society with our instincts. I know that Yoll is keeping his instincts sharp. He's been homeless for the eight months we've been back. I've followed him around the city and observed his survival patterns. I know his mind and body just as well as my own. I don't think that he knows it's me that's following him around. He's just paranoid enough to believe the Dominion actually gives a shit about his revolutionary activities.

If you don't shop at their stores and you don't pay attention to their commercials, then you don't fucking count. Big brother will watch someone else. Someone like Heather North.

I'm waiting for Yoll to come out of the liqour store across the street. I think about the desert every day, Yoll. What did we see out there? What was that thing that came out of everywhere and jogged our memories back to the Secret Original? Was it an old desert god left over from the days when we prayed for rain? The lizard spirit of the fossil fuels under the sand? Or was it just our brains? That's what I have to believe now, a year later. I have to believe that it was just us, just our chemicals, that there is nothing else. That we didn't just stumble upon an ancient mystery, THE ancient mystery. Is that what you think about too? Or do you think you know for sure? You think you can share that experience with the Generals, with everybody, and change the whole world?

Aren't you afraid they already know about it? Aren't you afraid they're already there?

0X...

2005-12-05T21:31:00.000-08:00

Loungers, please read.
C'mon now...

04. Dream Conditioning

2005-12-05T19:42:00.000-08:00

Yoll jumped into action. His dreamscape was far more violent and dreary than the waking world, but still he was sluggish. Since the advent of dream conditioning, the best warriors trained as they slept. Only in the subconscious does one have the advantage of knowing his weaknesses better than the enemy ever can.

Yoll saw dream conditioning as the only way. The general was indecisive under stress and had only overcome his intinctual deficiency through superior strategy. But the coming Petroleum War was different, he knew that. The plans and strategies that had carried him through the first conflicts after the fall of New York were of no use now.

Yoll also had deep reserves about the Secret Plan. It was dangerous and desparate, and failure meant the end of not only his life, but the progress he'd made. Science itself was done with, for one. Knowledge wasn't wanted in the days of the Dominion.

Death Pool 2006

2005-12-04T18:48:00.000-08:00

It's not quite over yet, but so far it appears I am to be congratulated for winning the Death Pool 2005 with correctly guessing two deaths: The Pope, and Arthur Miller. I totally should have guessed Rosa Parks, but oh well.

Nobody else got any correct, though you might have won had you guessed "hundreds of New Orleaners", "hundreds of American soldiers", or "lots of people with AIDS". Not really, though. Because you have to select famous people.

Now it's time for you to predict the demise of famous people in 2006. Remember, Ted Williams died in 2002, so don't waste your time.

Deadline to respond (in the comments section) is December 31.

A few things

2005-12-04T10:33:00.000-08:00

-Blogging is akin to playing slot machines. I think its called operant conditioning or variable response or recognition or something. (Maybe a psych major can help me with the jargon) But here's what's up. As we all know classical conditioning is the whole Maslov's dogs thing. Hear the bell -- salivate. While that it is a strong form of conditioning, playing slot machines is even stronger. Maybe nothing happens the first few times you pull the lever but eventually you are rewarded. And then you start pulling again and maybe nothing -- but eventually, jackpot. Gambling addicts keep playing because they know eventually they'll hit a jackpot even if costs a fortune to win it. This is also the same kind of conditioning that effects fisherman. You might not catch a fish for a week but eventually you'll get one and oh it feels good. Blogging works the same way. Maybe Chair won't post for two weeks but chances are I'll check his blog damn near everyday and eventually he'll post. It's an addiction.

-I found someone to blame for the UA loss to Houston last night. It's the same guy we can thank for building one of the finest basketball programs in the country. Please recognize that any criticism I have for Olson should be received through the filter of his awesome legacy. Back to the point, he fucked up. He kept Rodgers and Adams out of the starting line-up because they were late to a meal. Come on Lute. These aren't children, and for fuck's sake they're seniors. I understand that discipline is essential to a winning team, but you also run the risk of creating a negative vibe. This isn't summer camp, or a field trip. I wouldn't play my best ball after being scolded like a child. Let-off!

-I don't think my cat Colfax can see himself in the mirror. Either that or he doesn't care. But why wouldn't he care? Even if he doesn't recognize that he's looking at himself shouldn't he be fascinated that there is what appears to be another cat in the room? I think it's creepy. If he keeps this up I'm liable to tie him into a burlap sack and throw him on a bon fire.

-If anyone doesn't have an NFL team they support, I suggest the Denver Broncos. Just think how happy you'll be that you got on board when Denver stops the Colts one game before their historic season sweep.

-The back stairs of my condo have all broken under my tremendous weight. Because I can't afford to fix them I use an old lady shower stool I found in the garage to get in my backdoor.

-Pet Peeve: I hate...fucking hate when photographers at concerts distract me from the show. You know these fuckers, right! They crawl around on the ground in front of the stage or on stage at the performers feet trying to get that perfect angle. Get off the stage jackass! We know you need attention, so start your own band.

-Finally, it's a beautiful day in Colorado. The sun is shameless, nary a cloud in the sky, and a fluffy layer of snow makes everything look just darling. Tragicly, I will spend the day inside studying Corporate law.

03. Glimmering "God Of Party" Lives Forever, Reveals New Album Details

2005-11-26T15:54:00.000-08:00

You know, I'm curious about what this kid thinks of the war he's fighting in. It's obvious he's been here longer than most of the other kids running around. He just sits and waits. He's got survivor written on across his face.

"I'm going to die in this war. Which is a good thing because there's no place for creatures like me back home. I could get an apartment, some section 8 housing. But I would surely kill my neighbor that lives above me because he was playing his stereo too loud or something. Mind your P's and Q's, bud. I'll fucking take you out. The killing will never end. It's really the easiest thing in the world... after your first one. The world doesn't change and it doesn't end.

"I have a dream about a goddess or a statue. The back of her head is hollowed out and it must be filled with gunpowder. I am hallucinating her voice which sounds like running water and sparks and dust are exploding around her head. She dreams the periodic table. I ask her where all the light comes from. We can see that it moves just a little faster than darkness. I ask her where it all comes from and she says, 'The sun, stupid.'

We have not learned to walk yet. We have not even learned how to stand. We have not taken one step together in unison. I ask the young soldier to write a letter or an email to Bill Casey. I tell him that Bill Casey assembled the terrorist kooks we're fighting now. I tell him about the tens of thousands of Soviet youths that died on killing fields in foreign lands twenty years ago. Fighting for a cause they didn't believe in. Detested by the local populace they allegedly fought for. Bleeding the crippled economy of their own country dry.

He looks at my nametag and asks what 'BCCI' is. I tell him that it's more than just a bank. I ask him if he has ever heard of "The Golden Chain".

02. Chimes

2005-11-18T17:43:00.000-08:00

(((the secret chiefs 3 part ways after the meeting, vowing to put forth their Plan against the Dominion)))

Calling it New York City is a bit of a nostalgic wish.

“Since when do you walk?”
“Time is frozen at its core, eternity is encased and protected by all that is hopeless and stupid.”
“Quiet — Unless the Dominion loses support of the workers there’s going to be hell in eternity. Stupidity has mastered dark matter because that’s the only way it could be understood.”
“But WHY are you walking?”

Conventional walking was best reserved for sidewalks any more. Tactile procession made more sense that way. Floating was what the teens did, purposeless, carefree, wasting the fruits of the mind-over-matter Revolution. Yoll just simply moved, quick, strong and sure. That was sure to show the Dominion a thing or two.

The official report was either meaningless or an attempt at a trap — and either one could mean nothing or something terrible. Halting movement on the Plan would amount to extending the truce, a condition that let the Dominion gain strength and wealth and —ultimately— power. And then it could chose to end the truce, leaving the chiefs and their allies outflanked, and forced to chose a weapon they were hesitant to use.
Yoll had argued for the Plan from near the beginning. It hadn’t been his, but the ultimate goals were what he shared.

The four-hour chimes rang. Yoll stopped, sinking slowly to his feet. He’d already forgot the meeting.

“Radiation is craving style. Energy on its own can be so lame. I prefer matter.”
“Synthesize — don’t separate. Fusion destroys time.”
“Tell me WHY you’re WALKING!”

In the olden days workers drew pay for their labors and in turn purchased what they needed. By the time of the Second Petroleum War, workers might well have been called soldiers, or slaves, because there was no pay and nothing came without a fight.

01. The Sperm Planet

2005-11-17T20:11:00.000-08:00

(((three years ago, the secret chiefs 3 hold a classified XI meeting to discuss the ramp up period to the second Petroleum War)))

The first fusion computer is like the first kiss.

"If you eat their skin it will affect your dreams?"
"Whose skin are you eating?"
"Radiation... light... micro-intelligences curled up in space."
"Kalabi-Yao shapes... is it dark matter?"
"Darker matter."

They've all been done before.

"There's something disconcerting about the wording of this official report."
"I don't think they're looking for a solution. I don't think they wanna solve the problem. It's always midnight for humanity. It's always midnight for humanity."
"Don't you think it's a bit suspicious? Why are they taking all these pictures if god sees everything?"
"We're just recording angels, wired for pleasure."
"Let me drink that wine that does not make men drunk, but sober!"
"Oh god, he's quoting again."

Will the killing ever stop?

"My coffee stays hot for approximately one hour."
"Put that guitar away we have serious work to do."
"When I'm feelin' that buzz everything starts looking like a flower."
"Jesus, shut up."
"Writing songs about you that are really about me. Writing songs about you that are really about me."
"Here's a picture of a mushroom cloud over New York City."
"Fuck you. Liberation!"
Reading the paper. "There's a great short story somewhere in here, listen: Lou Soileau first recorded in 1928 with accordianist Mayeus La Fleur, who was killed only days later, the innocent victim of a shootout between quarreling moonshiners."

0. Let's Tell Each Other A Story

2005-11-17T20:04:00.000-08:00

Let's tell a campfire story. Remember how to play? Let's do it telephone style. Only read the most recent chapter of the story. It will be numbered and at the top. If you read a chapter, you are commited to write the next chapter. You can at least come up with one or two sentences, yeah? But write as much as you want.

So let's see, if I write number one, whoever reads it first will write number two. Whoever reads two, will write number three. Don't cheat and look at earlier chapters! It will be cooler when we compile it all at the end. Everybody follow the rules (unless you're not a member of the T&S, I guess you don't have to). At some point we'll decide how many chapters it is so we can stop and compile it all. A suggestion, you can use the last sentence of each chapter as the title for your next one.

The Sperm Planet.

now i have a goal

2005-11-17T19:40:00.000-08:00

http://www.jamaica-star.com/thestar/20051006/news/news1.html

A Comprehensive Guide to People You Will See At a Coffee Shop: Part 1

2005-11-13T17:48:00.000-08:00

From the backfiles, courtesy of Freaktown:

High school girls – You will find these girls, usually in a pair, sitting in a not-so-isolated part of the coffee shop. They will be talking on cell phones, drinking “smoothies” (not coffee), and will usually apply lip gloss at least once every 20 minutes. They will have lots of make-up on and will be doing everything they can to look older (smoking, talking loudly about sex, applying more make-up). One interesting phenomenon associated with these ladies is that they will talk on their cell phone, leave the establishment, and then return 15 minutes later. This gives the illusion that they are desired by others and that their presence is often requited at other locations. Do not be fooled.

The “Regulars” – This is a crew of five males between the ages of 18 and 25, one female between the ages of 16 and 22, and a whacky old codger over the age of 35 (he is unshaven). They come to the coffee shop every day and sit at the same table. This table is outside on the patio, but is in close proximity to the entrance. All of these individuals are chain smokers. Among the young males, at least one of them will be wearing at least one of the following: a) a trench coat, b) a concert T-shirt, c) a pony tail, d) all black, e) a Member’s Only jacket, f) jean shorts, g) a gold chain, h) a hockey jersey. The female will not be romantically involved with any of the males (exclusively). All of the males in this group drink excessive amounts of coffee and/or espresso. The female will drink a mocha or a glass of wine (if available). One interesting behavior to notice when observing this group: upon arrival, the female must give a “hug” to all of the males (not the whacky old codger). If any of the males are not present when the female arrives, they WILL receive their “hug” when they arrive. Interaction within the group can NOT proceed until each male has received his “hug.” Their egos must be stroked by constant interaction with passing employees. This lets the first-time visitor to the establishment know that they are on the “Who’s Who” list at the coffee shop.

The Whacky Homeless Couple – This man and woman are very old. They have many possessions, and all of these possessions are stored in a grocery cart or luggage neatly stowed next to their outside table. They communicate in a language nobody else can understand. One of them will be wearing some article of sports team paraphernalia. They both smoke, but at a pace much more guarded than that of the “Regulars.” This is because their precarious financial situation and limited supply of cigarettes. They will possess at least one of the following quirks: 1) Ice cubes in their coffee, 2) Ordering hot water only (so they can make their own “tea”), 3) Loud process of hacking up and spitting out phlegm, 4) Lots of touching, 5) A horrendous limp, 6) WAY too much sugar in their coffee or “tea,” 7) MUST have a spoon at all times, 8) Missing teeth. They are friendly, but if you talk to them, they will ask you for money or cigarettes. They have an unusual interest in the entertainment offered at the establishment, but will almost always leave when a band starts playing. Most bands just aren’t their “style.”

The Band – These guys are the band that the coffee shop pays $40 to play for three hours. Most, but not all coffee shop bands will consist of at least one member over the age of 45 and one member under the age of 22. The kid under 22 will play guitar or drums, and is just busy keeping himself musically active while he sorts out “creative differences” with his other “band.” All coffee shop bands have at least one song about coffee. All coffee shop bands abuse the “free drinks for the band” policy offered by most coffee shops. The singer in a coffee shop band always sucks really bad. There is always at least one genuinely good musician in every coffee shop band. There is always at least one person on the audience who is there just to see the band. Everyone else just wants some fucking coffee.

The New Family – This is a man and a woman in their early 30s pushing around a stroller containing their recently born infant. Going to a coffee shop is the only remnant of a social life they have left. The come in for desert and coffee. Their baby is cute, but they are not. Never.

The Guy in a Wheelchair – This guy is always hanging out with everyone at the coffee shop. He wheels himself around, talking to the employees, getting a front-row seat for the band, giving cigarettes to the homeless couple and debating with the “Regulars” about which Quintin Tarantino is the best. He scared the New Family by touching the kid on the face with a lightning quick, but feather light, jabbing motion – an action the couple politely allows because of his disability. He drinks coffee at a moderate pace and is usually in rehab for some sort of an addiction.

The Student – This individual is easy to spot. He or she is usually dressed down, wearing sweat pants, a T-shirt, old jeans, etc. Female students with long hair will have their hair up, to allow for maximum reading capability. The student comes with the following accessories: a highlighter pen (yellow), textbooks, a laptop computer, a discman cd player, chewing gum (Trident), reading glasses (even if he or she has good vision), an annoying male friend, a calculator, pens (many), a pencil, Kleenex and a cell phone. People studying will always sit along a wall if sitting inside the establishment. They will sit near a tree, pole or column if sitting outside on the patio. s will always possess, or be wearing, an object that will identify them with their particular learning institution. People studying always wear socks, unless they are non-Caucasian men. The Student spends much of his or her time playing solitaire on the laptop computer.

Girl Waiting for a Guy – She is way too dressed up to be at a coffee shop. She sticks out like a sore thumb, because it looks like she is ready to go to the Viper Room, when in actuality she is at a coffee shop. Her cleavage will be readily apparent and some aspect of her clothing is best described at “tight” (in the literal sense). Another distinguishing factor will be the large amount of freshly applied make-up she is wearing. She will enter the coffee shop and get all of the men in the coffee shop excited by making one complete tour of the establishment (she is hot). Then she will stand in front of the menu for several moments, only to order a water with lemon, or nothing at all, then sit down at a location where she has a view of all entrances and exits. She will have the following accessories: a small bag, boobs. The important thing to remember if you are a guy: DO NOT try to talk to her. Even if she is friendly enough to engage you in conversation, you will be horribly embarrassed in front of all the other men in the coffee shop (who are constantly watching her) when her hot boyfriend shows up, kisses her and holds her ass, makes eye contact with – and gets a smile out of – the hot girl studying at the next table as he and the original hot chick go to get into his Ferrari and go to some bar you can’t get into.

The Pervert – Also known as “The Staring Guy” or “Creepy Guy With Really Tight Jeans,” the local pervert takes on many forms. In order to be classified as a pervert, an individual must possess no less than three (3) of the following characteristics: Is sexually interested in girls the same age as his daughter, Has a moustache, Excessive and conspicuous staring, All girls at the establishment leave when he arrives, Sticky money, Has seen Home Alone 2 more than six (6) times, All ambulatory movement can be described as “lurking,” Openly discusses how many times he has cheated on his wife, Favorite television program: Bloussant infomercial, Grunting, Constantly squirming in chair do to his erection, Over 40 years old, Sweaty, Hairy, Never engages anyone in conversation (only eye contact), Tight jeans (must be white or black, but never blue). Other characteristics: The Pervert will usually target one female employee or patron at a time. However, watch out for the Pervert. He does not limit his advances to women, or animate objects.

Guy Writing in a Journal – This guy is usually unexpectedly attractive and by all accounts seems like a very cool person. He spends an inordinate amount of time at the coffee shop (four hours per day, minimum). He can be seen writing in his small leather-bound journal for a good percentage of this time. He will also bring a philosophy book and men’s magazine to flip through during periods when he is experiencing “writer’s block.” The Guy Writing in a Journal is an avid smoker. He will usually limit his coffee consumption to a lone latte or one cup of the house blend, preferring instead the refreshment of designer mineral water for his primary beverage. If possible, the Guy Writing in a Journal will eat least one meal per day at the coffee shop. Many of the female employees will envision that the Guy Writing in a Journal is writing epic romance novels with them as central characters, but in actuality the Guy Writing in a Journal is documenting his depression and making note of the anger he feels over the fact that a hot guy just waltzed into the coffee shop like he owned the place and walked over to the hot girl who was sitting alone, kissed her, held her ass and made eye contact with – and got a smile out of – the hot girl studying at the next table as he and the original hot chick go to get into his Ferrari and go to some bar that he couldn’t get into.

Guys Playing Chess – These two have given up on ever meeting people at the coffee shop. They have also exhausted all possible topics of conversation between themselves. Thus, they have resorted to coming to the coffee shop with their chess board and playing out a silent battle of the mind for hours on end. They drink only house coffee or black tea. They are physically androgynous, but are in fact me (generically ugly, pathetic men). They are content. Leave them alone. Do NOT watch their chess game and offer suggestions or strategy. Do anything to avoid getting sucked into the world of Guys Playing Chess. Once you enter, there is NO escape.

Employees – Among the employees there are at least two women (one of whom is over 21, though neither appear to be) with short hair, some of which is fashionably dyed, who bear at least a passing resemblance to Winona Ryder. These are known as the “short cute girls” or the “cute coffee girls.” These are who you need to patronize, not the other employees, one of whom is guaranteed to be a flaming gay man, one a bitchy feminist hippie type (dyke or not), a long-haired man who owns several Pink Floyd T-shirts and is quiet except for when talking about playing guitar, an overly tattooed or pierced man or woman and at least one skater/pothead type who will exercise his duty as a good employee and show you how to huff nitrus on your first day.

Death Cab for Cutie

2005-11-12T18:42:00.000-08:00

I don't know if anyone has put much thought into this but, isn't Death Cab's Plans like way better than Translatlanticism?

Intelligent Evolution

2005-11-12T11:08:00.000-08:00

I am surprised to find myself in the middle of a current debate. The evolution v. intelligent design debate should be easy for a liberal-atheist son of biologists as I am, but isn't. I've discussed this with Mr. Chair a few times but I heard an NPR show on the subject that made me think about even more.

My position with evolution is this. I think it is an incomplete scientific theory. Evolution does not explain the intricacies found in nature. "Survival of the species" doesn't explain why birds have evolved into thousands of different species and sub-species. And evolution doesn't explain how some insects have adapted so that they look almost identical to the leaves and twigs they live on. I think there's more to it than the theory of evolution provides. I think Darwin was a start but there are big pieces missing, but that doesn't mean I think that God designed everything. I don't believe in God, but that's neither here nor there.

The major flaw in the logic of proponents for Intelligent Design is that they conclude a higher power is the answer. They might agree with the statements I've made above about the holes in Evolutionary Theory but they conclude that God must have designed nature. I think that's wrong, and that's not science. Science allows for holes in theories. People have been using God to explain unaswerable questions for...you know...forever. If that's all Intelligent Design is then it should never be mentioned in schools, professors encouraging Intelligent Design should be excused (unless they're tenured) and discussions of its legitimacy should be left for Sunday school. But, big but here...some people are calling my theory "Intelligent Design." Some people are confusing any criticism of evolution as "Intelligent Design Theory." I honestly think there is more to evolution than Darwinian theory, and according to the NPR report, that statement could ruin the careers of science academics.

So the state of affairs is this. True liberals think Intelligent Design is a conspiracy by religious conservatives to introduce creationism and the Bible into public school curriculum. True conservatives are, and have been, trying to get the Bible into public school curriculum. Non-tenured "Intelligent Design" Ph.d candidates are being excused if they reveal an interest in Intelligent Design. Some of those Ph.d candidates are biased religious conservatives, but some of them aren't.

So that's my big issue. There are some scientists how are not biased towards the religious right who want to explore other evolutionaries theories and are being labeled "Intelligent Design" theorists and shown the door. Sometimes liberals become censors even though they have a deep respect for freedom of thought. It's important to always check that you're position is not hypocritical. There's more to evolutionary theory than meets the eye. We do not further science by closing the door on theories we find fantastic, we learned that from Galileo.

Ste. Genevieve is at work

2005-11-09T09:18:00.000-08:00

Sorry to burst everyone's bubble but Paris isn't burning.

My Amer. friends and I have all gotten concerned calls and emails from friends and family. Apparently your television stations are at work as always blowing reality out of proportion. Things are fine and calm and normal in Paris. All the activity is taking place outside of the city. The disaffected youths are burning their own neighborhoods for the most part. Yes, there was one night cars burned in Place de la Republique a couple of nights ago, but otherwise, nothing is unusual in Paris. The only way in which we are affected here is that the RER B line stops at Gare du Nord and doesn't go to any stops north of the city. That's kind of intriguing, but beyond that, things are as normal as can be. I don't even hear people talking about the riots. No one cares. Not in any visceral urgent way.

I think it's generally acknowledged that the Arabs and Africans get unfair chances in France, quite hypocritical with France's claimed position to be the pays du droit de l'homme, the Nation of Human Rights. Hopefully the country will take some notice. On the other hand, a lot of these youths are simply suffering an identity crisis due to the fact that they don't fit in here and don't fit in with their parents' homelands. But contrary to the history of blacks in America, no one forced these immigrants to come to France. They chose it.

From my point of view, I see this. They are French and can legally work, but don't manage to fit into the culture. I have no legal rights in France, haven't worked for almost year, but I'm white. And that still means I win.

What a world.

p.s. Part 13 of the bike trip is coming very soon.

Your mission should you choose to accept it...

2005-11-08T13:08:00.000-08:00

Tim Finnegain. Peel yourself off of that bench in front of the trainstation in Limerick, shower, patch up the holes in your shoes, shave your back and chest, and return to Paris. Use your acting skills and disguise yourself as an angry muslim youth and infiltrate the the core leadership supporting the riots in Paris. Change their violent ways with Ghandi quotes, Peter Paul and Mary albums, marijuana cigaretters and back rubs. Make them see that they're Kebab shops are welcome in France. Make them understand that their activities will amount to billions of dollars of lost revenue to France's tourism industry. Use your language skills to help them lose their accents to rebut a presumption of poor education, laziness, defiance, and a propensity for violence. And if that doesn't work...well...start shooting them. This is your mission if you choose to accept, and if you don't your beloved Paris will burn. Oh St. Genevieve we need you now!

R. Kelly's Personal Hurricane pt. 1-5

2005-11-07T15:22:00.000-08:00

R+B star R KELLY put his legal troubles behind him on Friday night (09/09/05) to deliver a tearful message to BET telethon viewers about the hurricane devastation in south east America and dedicate his uplifting tune LET YOUR LIGHT SHINE to the victims.

His performance was an emotional one and he finished it by sobbing and stating, "Let your light shine New Orleans and the whole world let your light shine on New Orleans... I love y'all. Peace."

Kelly faces trial on three-year-old charges of child pornography stemming from allegations he videotaped sexual acts with a teenage girl.

The singer has denied the allegations, and no trial date has been set.

"I'm going through my own struggle, my own hurricane in a way, we all do, and you're either gonna fold or you're going to stand, and I believe in standing," Kelly said.

New Rolling Stone Contest!

2005-11-06T16:38:00.000-08:00

Play right here.

Zombie Nurse and Keg o' Beer

2005-11-06T15:44:00.000-08:00

Zombie Nurse and Keg o' Beer
Originally uploaded by lionelfrailey.

Careenin' Halloweenin' Funk

Go Kart!

2005-11-06T15:43:00.000-08:00

Go Kart!
Originally uploaded by lionelfrailey.

Here's documented proof of the hell Freaktown and I raised on the streets of San Francisco.

Careenin' Halloweenin' Rockin' Funky Good Times

2005-11-06T15:28:00.000-08:00

So I had this dream that for Halloween I costumed myself as a hippie, with a cymbal on my head. I'd walk around at parties and this big outdoor concert/basketball festival thing, tapping my fingers on the cymbal the whole time (ts ts-ts, ts ts-ts, ts ts-ts). In my dream I borrowed the wig from JLC and it was perfect.

So I woke up and decided I had to duplicate the dream. Imagine how could that would be, I told my friends. I could walk around and whenever anybody asked what I was for Halloween, I could say I was a hippie with a cymbal on my head, and it came to me in a dream.

So I text messaged JLC, who indeed is in possession of not one, but three wigs! Wow, I thought, this could actually work. Plus, I was in San Francisco, with easy access to hippie clothing. And I know drummers, so getting my mitts on a cymbal isn't exactly out of the question. Yes, I thought, I'm a-gonna be a hippie with a cymal on my head for Halloween, and go around telling people that it came to me in a dream. Not only would it completely solve the problem of what to costume as for the holiday, but it would be far and away the best costume I've ever had. I usually go for stock character types "70s Guy," "Hick," "Lumberjack" and the like.

But then I started thinking how it might be tough actually to pull it all off. I was, in fact, in San Francisco, while JLC and her wigs were in Phoenix. And I was headed back to Tucson... Plus, being in San Francisco was probably a detriment on the hippie clothese, at least as far as price was concerned. I'd probably end up getting hosed for $45 on an organic cotton, hand-dyed shirt by some burnout who used to drop acid with Jerry. And while I know drummers, I don't have the phone number of a single one.

So I abandoned my dream, for this year anyway. I went with the old standby: Zombie. In San Francisco I was a Zombie Nurse, accompanied by a Keg o' Beer. And back in Tucson, I was just a Zombie in a Shirt and a Tie, accompanied by a Zombie in a Blazer and a Pirate. The poor waitress on the patio thoughtly we were merely injured. Alas, we were the undead.

Tucson made Savage Love

2005-11-04T15:24:00.000-08:00

Tucson made Savage Love's "Straight Rights Update." There's also a really funny section about a guy who dries out his own shit, grates it up with a cheese grater and then...and then...sprinkles is it on self-serve pastries at the grocery store. AHHHH!!!!

A couple of notes

2005-11-02T13:28:00.000-08:00

-Temporarily "Which Echoes Belong" will be titled: "A Week in Pictures Following the Break-up." For the time being at least there will be daily postings.

-The NBA season has started with a thud. Amare is out till at least the all-star break. The Spurs had added even more talent to the most boring team ever, and the Nuggets just don't give a shit. Come on guys play like you mean it. Kenyon Martin gets 2 rebounds in 40 minutes. Fuck that!

-Cats should be good, but I have to admit that sometimes I think about the Illinois game and want to cry. I also heard that there was a Hummer involved in Midnight Madness. Tacky. I want to see Mustafa show his shit off this year. Inconsitency is unacceptable from a U of A point guard.

-Pot Heads, listen up. Denver is the first major city in the county to decriminalize the possession of an ounce or less of marijuana. We just did it yesterday. Apparently possessors can still be prosecuted under the state's laws prohibiting possession. This is the kind of shit the drives me crazy, but I guess that's how the system works, and we just have to change the state law now.

-Finally, I have seen two fine shows lately. Okkervil river on Halloween was more than I could have asked for. They have so many good songs, and they are such great performers. They really seem to enjoy performing. I also saw Calexico and Iron & Wine. Iron and WIne is great. That guy is special. I've listened to a lot of folk singers and nobody sings like him. Quiet but powerful, graceful yet simple. Is Calexico overrated? The answer is maybe.

Go Kart-ing

2005-10-25T16:14:00.000-07:00

Howdy from the hills of San Fran, Bay City USA.
And there's no better place to be in this whole fucking place than strapped into a rented go kart with Freaktown at the wheel, slingin' and slangin' all over the place, screaming up and down hills, cruisin' the financial district and thumbs-uppin' every sucker out there.
It was like a movie, this entire day of near-reality. We were gettin' away with a scam, really sending the normal folks a message: We Are the Shit.
Endless laughter. Nearly every damn sucker out there obligingly threw a thumbs up back, smiling at our adventurousness. Untold thousands of people went home last night in San Francisco, saying "Honey, I saw these two jackasses on a go kart, speeding all over the damn place and laughing like escaped lunatics. Man, I wish I could do that."
We started in the tourist area, where I was little different from the other vacationers. But I quickly diverged, took special status, had the city at my disposal on a seven-hour go kart adventure (for the price of three hours!).
Freaktown took the wheel and we sped north along the waterfront, honking, smiling, waving, peace-signing, A-OKing and thumbs-upping people the whole way.
We hit the Golden Gate area, snapping pictures of the Landmark shrouded in fog. (And wouldn't ya know, I forgot my usb cable and I can't share any of the pictures until I return to the desert.)
Then all around the Presidio, by the golf course and the rich folks' homes. Then down toward the beach, where fellow tourists actually told us we were lucky - and they didn't know the half of it. Heading toward Golden Gate Park, we blew a fellow go kart team off the line. They disparaged their car, and were wearing dorky helmets. No helmets for us, we were the hell-raisers.
I took the wheel in the park, somehow becoming turned around and nearly hitting the freeway. Oops. Turn back around and let's cruise the park again. One kid in particulary, probably about 10 or 11, looked at us with pure envy. We waved special to him, beeping the horn to say "Remember this, kid. It is absolutely even more fun than it looks like to you now. And one day you'll grow up and get to it yourself. Keep the faith, my young brother, keep the faith."
From there, we cruised to hippie-ville, where the line outside the free clinic made a better picture than the Haight-Asbury sign. Then down the Haight, where we had to stop at Mad Dog in the Fog for a pint. The sign was obscured so it read: Mad Dog he Fog. A crazed bum was dancing on the sidewalk right behind where we parked the go kart.
On and on then, taking to the hills: that funny crooked street, where we became a momentary distraction, an oddity to exceed the funny crooked street itself. Then we drove by the Full House house, god bless Lori Laughlin and the now-of-age twins.
That go kart owned the hills (it topped out at 50 mph, but that's later in the story). We cruised right on up to Coit Tower, paid the extra $3.75 and took the ancient elevator all the way up for a miraculous set of 360 degree views of the city. Then we posed in front of the Christopher Columbus statue so it looked like Freaktown was poking his crotch and I was cupping the balls.
Then down the hill, visiting the Azul and the financial district, turning ourselves into the Spectacles of the City. Then off to a fancy dinner, parking the go kart half on the street and locking it to a post. The construction worker said it was going to be OK.
With little time to spare, Freaktown swung past the Giants park, then opened the throttle up on the Embarcadero, passing several cars on the way to return the go kart at 9:57 p.m., just ahead of the gun.
In all, one hell of an adventure, elevated to superhuman status by a 340 cc engine. We must've put 25 miles on the thing and discovered the ideal way to travel in San Francisco.

Godfuckingdammit where are y'all motherfuckers?

2005-10-23T05:07:00.000-07:00

So, godfuckingdammit where are y'all motherfuckers?

Anyway, excuse the outburst. I'm just hanging out. You know... My head feels a bit irritated. I think I have developped an allergy to alcohol, tobacco, and coffee. I experience a pain in my already painful throat each time I bring one of the aforementioned products to my lips. I don't get any sensation out of these products except a dry painful throat, headache, and sensitivity to light. I am currently wearing sunglasses in front of the computer, I am so sensitive to light. My body repulses in front of each of these products. Beer tastes like a superfizzy painful drink in my mouth. And I don't get drunk really, just kind of discombobulated, disjointed, and wishing I hadn't drinkened.

So I think I'm going to straight-edge it for a week. No alcohol. No cigarettes. No coffee. One week. Can I make it? I know I'll feel better. Every day I don't drink I feel fine and as soon as I take my first sip though, the good feeling of the day is ruined.

In the meanwhile, here I am. I'm about to write chapter 12 of the bike trip. It's a sunny but cold days in Paris. I am inside with sunglasses on and a blanket over my legs.

Garth's mom's out of town, so I'm living with her for a week. In November, I'm full-on homeless again, but I should be able to divvy up my month a couple nights here and there with different friends. By mid-December I can get my own place again.

I'm going to Ireland for three days in November. Got a 35 euro round trip. I'm flying to Shannon. I can stay with a friend in Cork the second and third night, but that first night, I'll have to try and get lucky. I'm going to bring a very warm jacket just in case.

Rock out with yer cock out.

Final Cut

2005-10-12T13:36:00.000-07:00

After a few more hours of work, I have made a final cut, cleaning up the sound and streamlining the editing. If you click on the link from the post below, you'll find a slightly improved version of the film, though I still can't seem to upgrade the image quality for internet viewing. Hope you enjoy it.

The film

2005-10-11T02:18:00.000-07:00

Alright. I believe you can check out the film here. The first 30 seconds is frames I had to put up for the competition. The image quality has been compressed, so it probably will look quite fuzzy, but at least you have a glimpse of the movie. It's in French, but you should probably be able to follow along anyway. I'll post a translation soon.

And now our feature presentation:
Pale by Comparison

Stu Leblanc's Week in Haiku

2005-10-10T17:05:00.000-07:00

10/2 -- 10/8

the half-inch
tape machine
rolling

growing my
Halloween moustache
no costume in mind

washing my jeans
keeps slipping
my mind

my favorite band
my dear friends
I am speechless

rendevous in
Ashfork, footprint on
a foggy window

thrilled by a
painting in a book
on my lap

flip-flop feet
keep getting
colder

64 hours

2005-10-10T08:48:00.000-07:00

This weekend, I participated in a film-making competition. On Friday evening, 50 teams of filmmakers were told three things they must use in their film. A specific character named N. Raynal who is a former contestant on a French show similar to American Idol, a corkscrew, and the line of dialogue, "Je n'aime pas ca," meaning "I don't like that."

And every team got a different genre in which they must make the film. There were genres like action, horror, comedy, sci-fi, mockumentary. I pulled the notoriously difficult: Western. Which is hard enough for Amercians to put together. Try doing it in Paris.

At 7pm they rang a bell. Finished films must be back by 7pm Sunday.

I got to work that evening with the script. As I came up with characters, I called friends to do the parts. I asked a diner permission to shoot. I had some early ideas for footage I wanted and shot a few things around Montmartre at night. I went out on my bike with the camera. I kept working on and on until I was to meet my actors for the first scene, at the diner, at 8 in the morning. Shooting continued until 8 at night. I went home to eat, then got back on a train to my girlfriend's house to edit at 11pm. I edited all night long. Meanwhile, I was back and forth on email with my sound guy, who I never saw the whole weekend. He was mixing a few sounds for me. A cold wind, diner background noise, a carnival song, gunshots, a lonesome whistle. At 8, my girlfriend and her family woke up. I hadn't gone to bed for a second continuous night. They left for a day in the country to leave me the house vacant so I could work. I met up with two of my actors again at noon cause I had to get about five more shots. I loaded the shots into the computer and continued editing. I finalized the cut of the image. I fixed the sound. My friend read out the voice-over narration. I fit it over the image. The film was done at 6:15.

We went to load it onto the mini-DV but the computer refused. I tried again. It was 6:20. This wasn't happening. Because not only was the film finished. It was good. Really fucking good. We were all astounded that we could work together to make such a nice short film and it seemed impossible that we did it all in 48 hours. All of it, including writing and editing. Fantastic performances, striking images, nice sound, deliberate use of color, and a good story that gets your heart racing and shocks you. We really did it. And with a thousand euro prize hanging in the balance, the film would not print with 40 minutes to go. I searched for a rewritable DVD. I only found CDs. I tore my girlfriend's house apart looking for DVDs. I finally found one and rushed it to the computer and began to print. It took forever. Burning to disc. Finishing burn. Veryifying disc. As the last process slowly trudged on., we all packed our bags. We figured out the best possible plan. I was to run to the metro as fast as I'd ever run before. Take it to Place d'Italie, transfer, and take the line 5 to Oberkampf. And then run to the bar where I was to turn in the film by 7. At last the disc came out. I put it in its case and ran. Ran like I'd never run before. I made it to the metro. Got the train. Ran through the transferring station jumping around people like I was in the Matrix. I did one move where I flew over a guy by jumping over a bench, bending beneath the curved ceiling, my chest rubbing barely against the top of his bald head. I got the next train. Got out at Oberkampf. I found rue Oberkampf where the bar was. I ran as hard as I could. Stopped for no traffic. Weaved between cars and bicycles. The road went uphill. I pushed and pushed. Couldn't stop running. I didn't know precisely what time it was but I knew it was close. A lost second could mean these last 60 hours I hadn't slept, all the beautiful things we did with the film, it would all be useless in terms of the competition. If I was one second late after the bell rang, I was out. So I pushed uphill. I couldn't feel anything. Just my brain sending signals to my exhausted body. Don't stop. Don't stop. I ran and ran, out of breath. Heaving, I pushed through the door, saw the organizer, handed in the disc with my body bent double, sweat pouring down. She handed me a time card. My film arrived on time. At 6:59.

So there was a little reception. Sangria, wine, little tiny breads with little tiny spreads. I heard that out of 50 teams, 14 didn't make it on time. I talked to one guy I know. Said, how was your weekend. He smiled and said, it was fun, it was fun. Don't think our film is that great but we had a good time. You? Our film is great, I said, sweat still pouring down. It's unbelievable. We made a Western that takes place in Paris and it rocks. We really fucking did it.

My friend who played the lead role and his girlfriend who was in the film too came to the reception, having pushed me out the door running. We drank until there was no drink left and went out to the bar we always go on Sunday nights. Where our friend Barry plays. A big bald 46 year old black man. Barry was in the film, too. He visits the prostitute. I was delirious with having been up more than 60 hours and then that surge of energy from finishing the film and running like a missile. I was hallucinating, saying things nobody understood. I finally went home after midnight. Called my mom to tell her how much it all rocked. And got to bed at 2 after an amazing sleepless 64 hours.

The week in Nature

2005-10-05T21:14:00.001-07:00

13-foot python tries to eat 6-foot gator

Are you kidding? Some stupid fucking snake tried to eat an alligator whole?
What in the munchies was going through that snake's mind? That's like Mr. Chair trying to eat Hondo. Or Face devouring a genetically freaky Colfax. I ate 83 shrimp, a steak, salad and toast once. Boy that was a bad idea. Imagine the shit that would've come out the other end of that snake if it'd succeeded.

Chimp kicks smoking habit

There's hope for everybody. Of course, the fact the chimp started smoking in the first place just proves how cool smoking is. I would totally give a monkey a cigarette. Or a joint! That'd crack me up. Drunk dogs are one thing, but stoned chimps would be priceless. Unless they got the munchies and tried chowing down on an alligator.

Holy Squid! Photos Offer First Glimpse of Live Deep-Sea Giant

Now let's really get crackin' on the Lock Ness Monster.

Researchers Reconstruct 1918 Pandemic Influenza Virus

Isn't this Michael Crichton territory? Cue heroic scientist Jeff Goldblum character. Cue morally ambiguous lab boss. Cue some Bill Paxon like jackass as president. Cue all-too sexy mid-level whistleblower. Cue shrieking masses. Cue massive unintended consequences and insipid moral to close it all out. Cue a rabidly infected python trying to eat an alligator.

Rock

2005-10-05T21:14:00.000-07:00

Motley Crue. That’s right, I went to see Motley Fucking Crue. And they brought the rock. Fueled by Preston’s unholy devotion to the rock, last night was one hell of a good time, pure fun. We started drinking beer in the parking lot, car windows rolled down and the Crue on the stereo.

The Crue could walk dangerously close to the line of being a parody of themselves and the whole 1980s scene they ruled if the whole thing wasn’t so balls out. Sure, it’s a greatest hits reunion tour from a band that was known more for living wild than for making anything but loud party music, but the intensity and the seriousness of the performance were incredible.

The show – part of the Carnival of Sins tour – started with the lights down and a midget in a clown suit shouting out a welcome. Then out of a box came two of the gorgeous set of backup-dancing trapeze strippers, making out. Then the drum beat… and the “Shout!” “Shout!” opening to “Shout at the Devil,” and it was on.

The Crue played every song of theirs I knew, and me being nowhere near an actual fan, tons I didn’t. Song-wise the highlights were the fist-pumping “Girls Girls Girls,” the fist-pumping “Dr. Feelgood” and the fist-pumping “Wild Side.” Atmosphere-wise, the highlights were the tremendous light show, the motorcycles, the trapeze lesbian dancers, the flying drumming, the tittie-cam, and of course the ubiquitous fist pumping. For all their theatrics, their noise and the overall bravado, it’s easy to forget the Crue is nothing more than a drum-bass-guitar-vocal combo. Rock’s three instruments and a singer. In a strange sense they’re stripped down, and the low personnel is in such contrast with everything else.

The costumes, the swagger and the crunch of the attitude sold the whole show. The crowd was rowdy, drunk, sketchy and skeezy, but absolutely devoted to getting rocked by the Crue.

Devotion to rock is quite a simple pursuit – and incredibly fulfilling. Go see the rock if you can. Don’t worry if it’s not the real thing in an arena. Go catch your local butt rock cover band. But get your rock on. Get rocked and get your fucking rock on.

Stu LeBlanc's Week in Haiku

2005-10-03T15:17:00.000-07:00

9/25 -- 10/1

a bug I've
never seen
before

the plan
that changed
solidifies

finding a missing
piece of me trapped
in a banana

watching
Russell open
presents

five minute
bonus visit before
another goodbye

staying late
for an extra
ten bucks

cricket chirping
in our makeshift
recording studio

The spirit is still alive

2005-10-02T15:11:00.000-07:00

I had a birthday party thrown for me on Friday. When I got off work at 5, and I was thinking about it, an old familiar urge came over me: I need to go buy myself some ridiculous pants. I couldn't help it. The 505 has forever shaped what I think a party should be, and rarely did we throw a party at the 505 when ridiculous outfits were not just encouraged, but demanded.

So I rode my bike down to the thrift store and found a disturbing pair of green and yellow pants with strange animals playing country club sports. Anteloupes playing golf, bunnies playing tennis, owls playing crouquet... No one enjoyed the pants more than my girlfriend, Molson. Upon seeing me in the doorway, she just started rubbing her temples and looked totally defeated. It was worth it.

The party was a smash hit. Since most of the folks I party with are law students and getting on in years we remember wistfully our wild college years and actually miss the times the cops were called on us. And although the cops were not called on Friday, a neighbor across the way did yell at us twice to keep it down. Thanks angry neighbor.

A terrible practice was revealed to me at the party. A practice that apparently occurs across this country that I have not been aware of. A practice that I believe should be defined as the greatest human rights risk to our country -- and it's probably happened to you. Isn't it terrifying? Okay here it is. I was talking with a close friend of mine at the party how went to college in Michigan. She told me about a friend of her's that would go to parties, and if he didn't like the host, would go into the hosts bathroom, find the hosts tooth brush, stick that tooth brush up his ass, and put it back were he found it. AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Just think of all the parties I threw, and all of those people who didn't like me. I'm not a very likeable guy. I'm condescending and argumentative. And the whole time my toothbrush was negligently left lying in plain view on the counter. Is there any possibility that these heinous acts only occurred in Michigan? Surely no one from Arizona, the home of Lute Olson, would do something like that. Right? Okay, I want to know. How many times do you think my toothbrush was rammed up some guy's ass?!

bike trip update

2005-09-28T10:10:00.000-07:00

all the bike trip posts have been reposted on the new bike trip site.

I have written a new chapter and it will be typed up most soonly, and you can expect semi-regular updates for the next few weeks until the whole story is done.

by the way, I'm finally working. I babysitted Garth's brothers. I made 30 euros. And I did flyering for one of her mother's friends art class.

Stu LeBlanc's Week in Haiku

2005-09-26T20:24:00.000-07:00

9/18 -- 9/24

Telling friendly
clouds that I am
in love.

Morning smiles
coffee and a muffin
say goodbye

I'd rather not
remove my (borrowed)
sunglasses.

On hold,
nauseated by
smooth jazz.

guitar strummed
no louder than the
cicada drone

A cigarette,
and just like that
I'm a quitter.

Arriving at her
doorstep, she leaps
into my arms.

Hypnotist Collectors

2005-09-25T16:38:00.000-07:00

Perhaps we can all stop looking for answers now. Not because Martin Scorsese’s No Direction Home offers any, but because if they’re not to be found in a four-hour documentary they simply don’t exist.

Dylan is. He’s Dylan. Beyond that there are no explanations.

In the past year, I’ve read volume one of his autobiography, viewed the four-hour documentary and listened more than ever, to old albums I took off the shelf and heard with new ears and new perspective, and to newly released recordings from more than 40 years ago. In the past year I’ve heard stories about the man, from a guy who knows, listened intently to actions and descriptions.

I know a ton more about Dylan than before; but I have no answers.

Dylan remains the inscrutable one, the mystique, the chameleon. To hear him give even a bit of his story in his own words is a fascinating treasure. But it doesn’t tell me how he did it. It doesn’t answer how he wrote those songs, or why. It doesn’t answer how he gathered up his rock ‘n’ roll ambition and Woody Guthrie’s story-telling persona, threw in a heavy measure of deep folk tradition and a strange, kinly love of Beat poetry and spit out Hard Rain.

Bob Dylan might be one of the best arguments for a god. How else do you explain talent and vision and prophesy and wisdom, all rolled together like that in a storm cloud?

Dylan couldn’t have existed as he did apart from the time, he couldn’t have soaked up all he did outside of New York in the early 1960s, he couldn’t have written the best of his early songs without observing the world around him. But at the same time he’s ancient and timeless, a singer-poet-prophet hero out of Homer or Shakespeare.

His folk tradition wasn’t just Woody and the Greenwitch Village scene. Dylan’s folk tradition was the old Irish hills and the hot Mississippi Delta. It was the Round Table and the lonesome bride, staring to the sea for a love more in her head than her heart.

He could imagine; that’s for sure.

No Direction Home credits someone as a “Hypnotist Collector.” I missed if the name and perhaps other hidden gems in the scrolling of names.

If we’re all hypnotist collectors, is Dylan the walking antique?

Do any of his individual lyrics, even the most autobiographical ones, really tell us anything about him?

His book didn’t shed any great light, neither did the movie or all these newly unearthed recordings. But they’re all rich, wonderful, captivating.

What light are we looking for? What answers do we demand about Dylan?

I wasn’t around (sadly) for much of Dylan’s career. I didn’t get to hear him when he was new, didn’t get to learn and listen along with the times. Much of his story had been written already before I’d ever heard the name. It’s unfortunate in a sense to have missed out on the first-hand experience of so much of that, but you can’t help when you’re born. (Hell, if you could, I’d guess Dylan would’ve chosen a different time all together, and where would any of us be then?)

I was in college before my lifetime even saw the release of a really good Dylan album.

But I’ve seen him play live seven times, collected a handful of friends for no other reason than we were mutual fans, devoured albums and grounded all manner of meaningful moments in his songs.

I think I’m ready finally to take the story, take the songs, take the experience and take the performer himself and stop looking for the greater answers.

The day in flag football

2005-09-23T15:27:00.000-07:00

My team is called the "rejects", and is composed of a bunch of people who transfered into their 2L year, and then a few scrawny 1L's such as myself. To give perspective, I was the center and the second biggest guy on the team. I was lined up with this red headed irish man who would start from 5 yards back and rush the QB full speed. Also on the other team was one of my closest pals here a law school, C, who played guard for all 4 of his years at princeton. He floored me a few times.

Since I am so small, I played dirty.

On defense, upon the hike of the ball, I grabbed back of the centers head and propelled myself forward and pushed his face in the dirt. It was my only sack of the game. The next play, they double teamed me and now my back is hurt.

All in all, it was a spectacular game.
Oh yeah, we lost 37 to 0.

You asshole

2005-09-18T22:28:00.000-07:00

That guy is like thirty pounds heavier and twice as lame as me. To prove as much, this is what I looked like when I visited the same monument just 9 months ago.

Face spotting

2005-09-18T21:55:00.000-07:00

I swear that's Eats With Face on the left:

Catfish at the football stadium

2005-09-18T15:29:00.000-07:00

All through college, I made it to two football games, and that was in my fifth year. I just never cared about the football team. I still didn’t when I went, but I figured what the hell.

The first game was a triple-overtime victory. Afterwards, the fans rushed the field. There we were, Face and I, jumping up and down, slapping players on their shoulder pads, two quasi hippies in the mix of jocks and greeks. It was hella fun.

I made it back to the stadium last night for the first time in four years, far more interested in the general carnival atmosphere of the whole thing than whatever was going on down on the field. I met up with the crew at a packed bar before game time, marveling at how amped up everybody was.

Unlike Chair, I love sports – I’m just not crazy about football. But his sentiments about the experience are dead on. So often it’s simply about being there. Looking around, taking it all in. Sports stadiums are indeed like churches. There’s a reverence in each. Sports fans may be a bit rowdier than your average church crowd, but I’d bet the die hard football fans value their team as much or more than church-going folks value their god.

Tucson is far from the greatest sports town out there. Deep passion is reserved only for Wildcat basketball (with good reason, as it’s without a doubt the single greatest program in the country). There’re too many transplants, too many Californians and Midwesterners, to have a long-time, father-to-son type fandom. But the football team more or less sucks, and there was a sell-out crowd of 56,400 there, so who knows?

It was great fun. I found myself screaming “hit him!” when the Purdue quarterback got out of the pocket, leaping for double high-fives when our tight end caught a pass across the middle and rumbled for a touchdown, grumbling at the stupid mistakes when our linemen got penalty after penalty. And I actually found myself caring about the score and the outcome of the game.

Of course, my true roots were showing when I left near the end of the third quarter to catch an indie-rock show.

The Beatles & Wilco Have Baby: Child Put Up For Adoption.

2005-09-17T00:47:00.000-07:00

Here is a Freaktown musical suggestion:

Check out a band called The Mother Hips.

If one of you has talked about this band and I just wasn't paying attention, I apologize.

These guys have been around for a while (their first 7" came out in 1994). I hadn't heard them until recently. My old lady got an internship at this indie record label, and one of the albums by the Mother Hips was put out by this label. I got a free cd. I listened to it.

The music isn't life changing, but it is pretty good. The only album that I can speak about with any authority is called Green Hills of Earth (2001). It is at best, and at worst, an album that can be put on while cleaning the house or cooking dinner. It is a good talking on the porch album. Like the title of this post suggests, much of this album seems to be a happy marriage between later Beatles offerings and earlier Wilco. Other comparisons will be easily drawn based on the individual listener's taste (I think one song sounds like a cross between the Counting Crows and the Black Crowes). The sound of the Mother Hips feels almost a little to "pop" to be considered "indie". I would call it "soft indie pop". The melodies seem at times epic and sweeping, and at other times very radio friendly, this despite the fact that I don't think they have ever had a radio single. Being the self proclaimed music snob that I am, I don't like my bands to receive much acclaim critical or otherwise, so the further under the radar a band is the more that I like them.

"Traditional" 4 piece band:

Tim - Guitar/vocals/keys
Greg - Guitar/vocals/keys
Isaac - Bass
John - Drums

Go give 'em a listen. Check out the website below, or just use whatever method you normally use to obtain music and get Green Hills of Earth by The Mother Hips. Listen to it once all the way through. I don't really know if any of the other albums have tremendous merit, but they can't be bad either.

http://www.motherhips.com/

They even mention being at a Wilco show in one of the lyrics.
Freaktown's favorite tracks:
#3 Take Us Out
#11 Del Mar Station
#13 Smoke

I need to know if I have lost touch with any sort of musical taste, so let me know if you like them, or if you think they are a bunch of suck-ass, no-talent pansies.

Polk Street Philosopher?

2005-09-16T14:15:00.000-07:00

Hey kids, here's another installment of Crazy San Franciscans!

My girlfriend and I were walking down Polk Street the other day. We were on our way back to our apartment after purchasing an Aerobie at Lombardi Sports. I am planning on infiltrating the hippie world over at Golden Gate Park and I have learned that the quickest way to a hippie's heart is through an "amazing" flying disc man. Hackey-sacking just seems too cliche man.

Anyways, walking down Polk, mid-afternoon, here is the short exchange:

Crazy guy who looks like the prospector from the Arizona lottery dressed in a leisure suit: "Benjamin Franklin's monocle!" (screaming)

Me: "Let's walk that way." (indicating a direction away from the crazy guy)

My girlfriend: "What did he say?" (ignoring my indication to avoid the crazy bum)

Swank Prospector guy: "Benjamin Franklin's monocle!!!" (louder now because we are closer)

Me: Silence, while making mistake of eye contact with crazy guy.

Now noticeably smelly crazy guy: "Benjamin Franklin's monocle! You gotta get wit' this!" (directed at me, the smell of urine is overwhelming)

Me: "Okay."

Crazy guy: Begins speaking in tongues and spouting unintelligible gibberish.

My girlfriend: "What did he say?"

Me: "I think he said Benjamin Franklin's monocle."

...and scene.

This next one is more sad than funny, but it stuck in my mind.

From the Emergency Room Ambulance bay...

Me: "Hello ma'am, I'm from registration. I need to ask you a few questions."

Older woman on stretcher strapped down with head and neck braces: "Okay."

Me: "Can you tell me your address and phone number?"

Woman: "I was at the drugstore and I was walking down the aisle."

Me: "You can tell your nurse what happened, I just need some basic information. Do you have any friends or family that we should contact?"

Woman: "I know what you are going to ask next. I wasn't drinking!"

Me: "Ma'am, I'm not the doctor and I could care less if you've been drinking."

Woman: "Oh, because I stopped drinking 2 months ago."

Me: "Okay, so do you have a primary care doctor?"

Woman: "I was just walking down the aisle, then I knocked a bunch of stuff over and fell down."

Me: "Ma'am have you been to this hospital before?"

Woman: "I'll be honest. I had a few drinks before I went shopping."

That's all.

I am going to go eat an inferior S.F. burrito. Tucson's burritos are better.

Is there trover for my personality

2005-09-13T17:39:00.000-07:00

The method isnt necessarily meant to humiliate you, that just one of the side effects, a beneficial one actually. You know, it makes you stronger right.... makes you more aware of your time.

Here are some other suggestions for getting to know your time (this is important because if we grasp every second in the now, we will live life to the fullest)

1. Wait in long lines
2 Take train trips somewhere far away and turn around without seeing anything
3 Toss and turn at night

He actually sent us out an email telling us not to blog. Its bad see, he said, someday just like that mother fucker on on the stand you could be vying for a position that you dont deserve, and there gonna find out everything youve ever done, everything youve written, so youve got to be careful. The internet is too unregulated see. Every letter that comes out of your fingers, think it through first. Represent your self for the future now. Represent tomorrow today.

Other recommendations for living strictly in the future (Because then you can live life to the fullest)

1. Undo all the past drugs/women/crimes,
2. Dont have strong or controversial positions
3. If you fail at one and two, LIE LIE LIE LIE LIE

But honestly, I love it....

and I havent met a single yalie that I like.

Oh yeah, a gold star to anyone who can tell me something about the Christian Science Monitor, their stance, how good it is, reading level etc. Ive been trying to find that out.

Not about politics of course, but...

2005-09-10T13:51:00.000-07:00

WASHINGTON (Reuters) -- Companies with ties to the Bush White House and the former head of FEMA are clinching some of the administration's first disaster relief and reconstruction contracts in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina

At least two major corporate clients of lobbyist Joe Allbaugh, President Bush's former campaign manager and a former head of the Federal Emergency Management Agency, have already been tapped to start recovery work along the battered Gulf Coast.

One is Shaw Group Inc. and the other is Halliburton Co. subsidiary Kellogg Brown and Root.

Thank God! Theyve finally called in the right people.