Double Flee A
Friday
Off to work, the last day of my stretch. I've been working every day since christmas eve. Tonight sushi and a bonfire, and if it's too cold, maybe something else inside.
Farewell to Don, a workmate who's smartly choosing to move on to bigger and better things. I'm right behind you, man. By about two years. Also, thanks for the tip about the PDA on R&C, a comment which I didn't see till this morning.
So long to the esteemed Mr. N, going back (I think) to Door county, WI, with three more high quality Russ Meyer movies than he had when he got to my house. Finally we have reached an age when taking a DVD from someone doesn't deprive them of it. Thanks to this website provided by the state of Wisconsin, I can see that what he said about being harassed by the cops was true. Busted.
Farewell to Don, a workmate who's smartly choosing to move on to bigger and better things. I'm right behind you, man. By about two years. Also, thanks for the tip about the PDA on R&C, a comment which I didn't see till this morning.
So long to the esteemed Mr. N, going back (I think) to Door county, WI, with three more high quality Russ Meyer movies than he had when he got to my house. Finally we have reached an age when taking a DVD from someone doesn't deprive them of it. Thanks to this website provided by the state of Wisconsin, I can see that what he said about being harassed by the cops was true. Busted.
Thursday
Here's a simple picture of the tsunami's effect over time.
GIF
much more at waxy
here's a satellite photo
GIF
much more at waxy
here's a satellite photo
15 ways to kill the bedroom myths - Mental Health
I clicked on it to see what the myths were, I stayed because this woman's writing is some of the worst I have ever seen.
I clicked on it to see what the myths were, I stayed because this woman's writing is some of the worst I have ever seen.
Sometimes I have a thought that seems to qualify me as a jerk just for having it, or at least not someone cut out for "family life". The thing this morning was this: Every woman thinks it's special and cute when her child mispronounces words. Fizzy water becomes fuzzy water and mom's heart melts. I won't give any more examples, lest a reader might see something familiar and feel singled out, but think about it. You know you don't need any examples from me. This phenomenon happens with every child and therefore is not unique. If it isn't unique, maybe it isn't all that special and great and heartwarming, but is simply par for the course. Any person learning any language makes mistakes that people find funny, and that mothers find funny and lovable.* But if I say it's not special I'm a jerk, because of course it's special, right? Even if it's not? For me it's not so much "Your child isn't special so stop talking about it and no, I don't want to see the pictures, either, office lady", but that even if you take something that makes perfect sense and put it right in the face of somebody that presumably is unaware of it, no matter how true it is, or how much sense it makes, or how relevant it is, if they just like the way it makes them feel, they will fail to make the connection. Even if ou have them repeat after you, still they will not believe. This is a problem with consequences beyond my ability to describe, but including a certain massive political movement in Germany in the thirties. They liked the way it made them feel, and though it's a long way from cute babies specialness to fervent nationalism, the concept is identical.
I've been reading the rise and fall of the third reich and am taking a break from it, going back to Stephen Jay Gould, eminent natural historian, to read about fossils and life forms for a little peace. Reading about trickery and political intrigue is feeling a little dry and my metaphors are starting to become more tiresome than need be.
*Which hints at the root of the issue, what do you do with something that screams, hurts you, causes you no end of irritation and lost sleep and money and craps all over the place for years? Obvious, you love it.
I've been reading the rise and fall of the third reich and am taking a break from it, going back to Stephen Jay Gould, eminent natural historian, to read about fossils and life forms for a little peace. Reading about trickery and political intrigue is feeling a little dry and my metaphors are starting to become more tiresome than need be.
*Which hints at the root of the issue, what do you do with something that screams, hurts you, causes you no end of irritation and lost sleep and money and craps all over the place for years? Obvious, you love it.
Wednesday
Last night the lovely J and I went to Bryant Lake bowl. We ate at the bar because all the tables were full. It's a very popular spot. As we were sitting there it occurred to me that I should have phoned Ron Bumsfeld and Emily to eat with us at Barbette. That place is good, too. On the way out, what appeared to be a gay black guy hollered across lake street to se if I had a quarter. I said NO, and he turned and went west. J said that she had a pocket full, and I thought she said it loudly enough for him to hear, which looking back, she didn't. Anyway, we're sort of arguing about that one (not too much) and getting in the car and this time what was definitely a gay black guy comes running toward us. We jump in the car, she locks the doors, I gun it in reverse, and we were gone in moments. I began thinking that he must have been trying to tell us one of us dropped something once it hit me what a coincidence it is for two flaming black dudes to beg change at the same intersection, but we checked, and hadn't. That must be the corner of gay black guy prostitution, and it looks like the money is so scrace that it hopefully won't continue to be for long so I can go to the restaurant in peace. Lessons: order the burger at BLB well done if you want it medium well, and being accosted by a frantic gay black guy is a good way to make people forget their differences but I would recommend it only as a last resort.
Am I the only one who wants to smash Josh Groban?
In case there's any doubt, here are the lyrics to the song he sang during the super bowl, as if Janet Jackson and Justin Timberlake's publicity stunt weren't enough.
Horrible.
In case there's any doubt, here are the lyrics to the song he sang during the super bowl, as if Janet Jackson and Justin Timberlake's publicity stunt weren't enough.
When I am down, and oh my soul so weary
When troubles come, and my heart burdened be
Then I am still and wait here in the silence
Until you come and sit awhile with me.
You raise me up so I can stand on mountains.
You raise me up to walk on stormy seas.
I am strong when I am on your shoulders.
You raise me up to more than I can be.
You raise me up so I can stand on mountains.
You raise me up to walk on stormy seas.
I am strong when I am on your shoulders.
You raise me up to more than I can be.
(enter choir in background)
You raise me up so I can stand on mountains.
You raise me up to walk on stormy seas.
I am strong when I am on your shoulders.
You raise me up to more than I can be.
You raise me up so I can stand on mountains!
You raise me up to walk on stormy seas!
I am strong when I am on your shoulders.
You raise me up to more than I can be.
You raise me up to more than I can be.
Horrible.
Tuesday
the year in pictures from MSNBC
Available, of course, at Walmart.com:
How Walmart Is Destroying America And The World: And What You Can Do About It
How Walmart Is Destroying America And The World: And What You Can Do About It
Monday
I've been reading about the big earthquake. Not good.
Once the people at work put it together that my departure was imminent, their icy facades gave way to a bounty of praise. Today I had to strap oil tankers to my feet to wade through the heaving tide of love and encouragement. Literally! I think it's because the people I work with are, essentially, masochists. They keep the lids to soda bottles around that say on the bottoms: "Not a winner please try again" and make glasses out of them. Literally! They're making a buig deal out of my leaving because it will give them permission to be miserable with my replacement. I will pass into department lore as another guy who got good at what he did and then took off, and everyone there will continue to grit their teeth through days that they prefer to make hellish, because that makes the work experioence feel more authentic, and what could be more important than the way people feel?
Due to a staffing crisis I had to work twelve hours yesterday, making me the only person I know that worked not only xmas eve, xmas, and the day after, but managed to work overtime as well.
I've been reading Harper's which I got as a gift in the new IV clean room, but that was without the management present. Now that we're swinging into the work week, the slacking will stop, I imagine, and the real boredom will take over. I love the index and Lewis Lapham is usually great. I'll have lots of time to make up songs at work now, but I don't know if they'll let me have oen and paper to write them down. Maybe I'll just have to sing them as I go. I think I'll try scat music. Shooby-wooby-bop-a-doo, and so on. I'll have to make sure to do that often and at high volume until the rest of the staff sees fit to petition the FDA to allow me to wear some headphones.
Welcome back from Brazil. You know who you are. I hope it was fun and you didn't get any new diseases.
I've been reading Harper's which I got as a gift in the new IV clean room, but that was without the management present. Now that we're swinging into the work week, the slacking will stop, I imagine, and the real boredom will take over. I love the index and Lewis Lapham is usually great. I'll have lots of time to make up songs at work now, but I don't know if they'll let me have oen and paper to write them down. Maybe I'll just have to sing them as I go. I think I'll try scat music. Shooby-wooby-bop-a-doo, and so on. I'll have to make sure to do that often and at high volume until the rest of the staff sees fit to petition the FDA to allow me to wear some headphones.
Welcome back from Brazil. You know who you are. I hope it was fun and you didn't get any new diseases.
Saturday
Yahoo! News - Researchers find gay penguins in Japanese aquariums: report
A penguin lawyer called the gay penguins "unfit for parenting". Everybody felt bad about the whole thing except the penguin lawyer. The end.
A penguin lawyer called the gay penguins "unfit for parenting". Everybody felt bad about the whole thing except the penguin lawyer. The end.
Lawyer says gays are 'unfit' to parent.
By her rationale, anyone not able to procreate can't perform the basic function of marriage. I know some people who wouldn't agree with that.
By her rationale, anyone not able to procreate can't perform the basic function of marriage. I know some people who wouldn't agree with that.
More complaining:
Just now I got to apply a liquid bandage to the hand that would be good at applying the liquid bandage, with the hand that sucks at applying the liquid bandage. I did this because while washing a knife it slipped and gave me a nice slice on the right hand. Watching blood ooze out from underneath a liquid bandage is interesting. You find yourself really cheering for the liquid bandage, which hasn't got a chance once the blood starts dripping. Now I've got a rather unattractive bunch of blood glued together on my knuckle, which I can't pick off or the whole thing will open up again.
Just now I got to apply a liquid bandage to the hand that would be good at applying the liquid bandage, with the hand that sucks at applying the liquid bandage. I did this because while washing a knife it slipped and gave me a nice slice on the right hand. Watching blood ooze out from underneath a liquid bandage is interesting. You find yourself really cheering for the liquid bandage, which hasn't got a chance once the blood starts dripping. Now I've got a rather unattractive bunch of blood glued together on my knuckle, which I can't pick off or the whole thing will open up again.
I was going to go to the bar tonight to be with friends on this festive occasion, but unexpectedly had to go in to work. That was pretty harsh, considering my expectations were far different. Instead of drinking a summit pale ale, I was tubing a stat diltiazem. Instead of drinking a bushmill's on the rocks, I took some ativan to the ER. And instead of a grand marnier to cap it all off, I got lost on the way to the parking ramp because I didn't want to walk outside in the weather, the tunnel system is impossible to navigate when the doors are locked. Then the only place you can go is into some offices where they have all kinds of seventeen inch flat panel displays, stealably mocking me and my dinky old retina-bruising CRT. Not to mention, people are in from out of town that I haven't seen and want to drink with. I'd go right now except I have to work in the morning and the only thing worse than work is work hung over. Not going to do it, period. I'm saying that for the benefit of the devil on my shoulder who doesn't give a rodent's ringpiece if I am miserable for a long time if it'll get me whiskey now. After all the sensible justification in the world, I feel discouragingly old and lame.
Merry christmas all, down in TN and all over the metro, out in CA, and in NY, and Taipei. And anyone whose location I forgot. May the yule tidings bring you bowls of jelly on a one-horse open sleigh all through the year. Is christmas imagery and phraseology interchangeable, or is it just me?
Merry christmas all, down in TN and all over the metro, out in CA, and in NY, and Taipei. And anyone whose location I forgot. May the yule tidings bring you bowls of jelly on a one-horse open sleigh all through the year. Is christmas imagery and phraseology interchangeable, or is it just me?
Friday
It's just great on the holidays, when people hold each other close, drink holiday themed beverages, and listen to them same twenty songs performed by a million different people. As old as the music gets year after year, I'll say for this season that it's (so far) spared me the Louis Armstrong "Is that you santa claus?" I mean, how long must we worship at the temple of Louis Armstrong? Yeah, he was original and we're not, but must we constantly hear him? He is to car commercials and emotional advertising what Bob Marley is to fraternity-boy sports bars.
Happy Xmas eve, all.
Happy Xmas eve, all.
Some people thought it would be worthwhile to make a Starsky and Hutch gay tribute page sort of thing. Here it is.
Starsky & Hutch Slash Archive
Starsky & Hutch Slash Archive
Thursday
A fat naked guy paints his body like spiderman.
archive.bodypainting.co.uk - Spiderman
Not safe for work
archive.bodypainting.co.uk - Spiderman
Not safe for work
Wednesday
It Can't Happen Here by Ron Paul: "Is America becoming a police state?"
I hate James Lileks.
He's mouthing off about a James Wolcott article, which gave him a hard time for this dumbass article.
Lileks is straining to contain his anger, and there's something really pathetic about a grown man who can't take care of his feelings better, especially someone who spends as much time as Lileks does writing about how he gets paid to write because he's so good at it. I like seeing him squirm, and that's what he's doing. James Lileks is an immature, selfish crybaby. The language he uses to do it has changed, but the infantile sentiment remains unchanged; a temper tantrum is a temper tantrum whether you're four or fifty-four. I eagerly anticipate the day, Lileks, when you'll begin to fade away because people other then myself have finally put it together what a whiny asshole you really are.
He's mouthing off about a James Wolcott article, which gave him a hard time for this dumbass article.
Lileks is straining to contain his anger, and there's something really pathetic about a grown man who can't take care of his feelings better, especially someone who spends as much time as Lileks does writing about how he gets paid to write because he's so good at it. I like seeing him squirm, and that's what he's doing. James Lileks is an immature, selfish crybaby. The language he uses to do it has changed, but the infantile sentiment remains unchanged; a temper tantrum is a temper tantrum whether you're four or fifty-four. I eagerly anticipate the day, Lileks, when you'll begin to fade away because people other then myself have finally put it together what a whiny asshole you really are.
I keep having this dream that I'm Darth Vader.
We moved the IV room today, and my job just went from being a good job to a job that sucks ass. I can't read any more. The "clean room" has as a rule that you can't bring anything into it that isn't "clean", and books aren't clean. I asked whether an ipod under your clothes is clean, and the manager was perfectly overjoyed to inform me that no, it wasn't. I skipped asking if glossy paper is clean or not, but I'm pretty sure that no magazines or entertainment of any kind, or anything that I would take the least pleaasure in, will be allowed in there. My job pumping TPNs is now terrible. Fortunately, that job ends on January seventh when I go part time.
The high temp here is 0 degrees F tomorrow. Brr. I'll be giving blood in the morning because the red cross has been calling me at home and at work to pester the hell out of me frequently, and this is the best way I can think of to make them shut up. For two months, at least. I'm hoping that they call me right after I go, like in a week or so, so that I can give them what for on the phone and tell them to pull their head out of their aperture, but that won't happen, because it's not my luck to get that kind of satisfaction.
The apartment is warm. When it gets really cold like this, the heat goes berserk. It probably helps that I put some of that 3M plastic sheeting over the windows to trap the heat in. Even with the sheeting, it's chilly when it's around thirty outside. It's an old house, so it's got mood issues.
We moved the IV room today, and my job just went from being a good job to a job that sucks ass. I can't read any more. The "clean room" has as a rule that you can't bring anything into it that isn't "clean", and books aren't clean. I asked whether an ipod under your clothes is clean, and the manager was perfectly overjoyed to inform me that no, it wasn't. I skipped asking if glossy paper is clean or not, but I'm pretty sure that no magazines or entertainment of any kind, or anything that I would take the least pleaasure in, will be allowed in there. My job pumping TPNs is now terrible. Fortunately, that job ends on January seventh when I go part time.
The high temp here is 0 degrees F tomorrow. Brr. I'll be giving blood in the morning because the red cross has been calling me at home and at work to pester the hell out of me frequently, and this is the best way I can think of to make them shut up. For two months, at least. I'm hoping that they call me right after I go, like in a week or so, so that I can give them what for on the phone and tell them to pull their head out of their aperture, but that won't happen, because it's not my luck to get that kind of satisfaction.
The apartment is warm. When it gets really cold like this, the heat goes berserk. It probably helps that I put some of that 3M plastic sheeting over the windows to trap the heat in. Even with the sheeting, it's chilly when it's around thirty outside. It's an old house, so it's got mood issues.
Tuesday
Bruce Jackson: "These images are based on a group of about two hundred 3x4" identification photographs made between 1914 and 1937 that I found in a drawer in the Arkansas penitentiary in the summer of 1975."
Dear Dale,
Sug splimpth. Eee-eee-eee-aww. Fig Miggle gunfgh. Wulk.
Fuck you,
Boner McScrotum
P.S. Thanks.
Sug splimpth. Eee-eee-eee-aww. Fig Miggle gunfgh. Wulk.
Fuck you,
Boner McScrotum
P.S. Thanks.
Monday
On ratchet and clank, there is a hundred-round captain qwark challenge on annihilayion nation which they give you two hundred thousand bolts for winning. It's not that hard but it takes a while to do. After that I bought the good armor and pimped my ride. I am pretty much the man at that game, but not the qwark vid-comics. A true talent, the lovely Joyce, had to help me with those.
Sunday
Luba in oil, not safe for work
The Observer | UK News | Last survivor of 'Christmas truce' tells of his sorrow: "It was just after dawn on a bitingly cold Christmas Day in 1914, 90 years ago on Saturday, and one of the most extraordinary incidents of the Great War was about to unfold."
This lady killed a woman, cut her apart, and stole the fetus out of her womb.
If only we had had some sign that she was a psycho...
If only we had had some sign that she was a psycho...
print at work:
An Open Letter to All Americans: "The Real Reason the Government Won't DebateMedical Cannabis and Industrial Hemp Re-legalization"
An Open Letter to All Americans: "The Real Reason the Government Won't DebateMedical Cannabis and Industrial Hemp Re-legalization"
BBC - Food - TV and radio - 50 things to eat before you die: "In March 2004 we asked you to vote for the top 50 things everyone should try a bite of in their lifetime. This is how you voted."
I've been playing ratchet and clank: up your arsenal, and it's making me a little mad. The map-o-matic I got after doing the optional challenges with the hovership somewhere shows a green area on Captain Qwark's hideout planet that I have died many times trying to get to. I just don't get it. I also don't like that in the room on the hideout planet where I picked up the PDA which is supposed to give me ammo no matter where I am but DOESN'T EVEN THOUGH I PAID 250K BOLTS FOR IT, there are two other hings in the vendor that I can't get, can't learn about, can't do anything with. I mean come on, insomniac, at least enable the thing I paid a quarter million bolts for. Now it's going to be forever till I can get the 80% armor. Dicks.
And not one website has this information on it. I spent too much time playing that tonight.
The lovely J's family had christmas early over in Eau Claire and I got to go, and it was nice. The tree was partially visible behind the mountain of wrapped packages, which was visible from space. For four kids and eight adults, it was a surprisingly well-organized event, and everyone was well-behaved. I was the recipient of very nice things, none of which I probably deserve, not that I like to think in terms like deserving. If people got what they deserved that Bush character wouldn't be president.
You never know when inspiration is going to strike. While in the bathroom, J figured out the puzzler from car talk this week. (realmedia) Answer: the hat is white.
And not one website has this information on it. I spent too much time playing that tonight.
The lovely J's family had christmas early over in Eau Claire and I got to go, and it was nice. The tree was partially visible behind the mountain of wrapped packages, which was visible from space. For four kids and eight adults, it was a surprisingly well-organized event, and everyone was well-behaved. I was the recipient of very nice things, none of which I probably deserve, not that I like to think in terms like deserving. If people got what they deserved that Bush character wouldn't be president.
You never know when inspiration is going to strike. While in the bathroom, J figured out the puzzler from car talk this week. (realmedia) Answer: the hat is white.
Saturday
I think this photography's got a lot more to do with one man's nude comfort level than it does homeland security, but that's just my opinion.
the HOMELAND SECURITY Collection
the HOMELAND SECURITY Collection
Wow.
Newsday.com - State/Region News: Nearly one in two Americans believe the U.S. government should restrict civil liberties for Muslim-Americans, according to a nationwide Cornell University poll on terrorism fears.
Newsday.com - State/Region News: Nearly one in two Americans believe the U.S. government should restrict civil liberties for Muslim-Americans, according to a nationwide Cornell University poll on terrorism fears.
Friday
Because people constantly ask me this and I want a quick reference t to give them so they will go away.
Schneier on Security: Safe Personal Computing
Schneier on Security: Safe Personal Computing
Oh no, George Lucas didn't have chewbacca's family on this.
Oh yes he did.
I didn't know Chewbacca's wife was named "Mala".
Warning: you might not want to drink anthing while watching this that you don't want to spit all over your monitor.
IFILM - Television: The Star Wars Holiday Special
Oh yes he did.
I didn't know Chewbacca's wife was named "Mala".
Warning: you might not want to drink anthing while watching this that you don't want to spit all over your monitor.
IFILM - Television: The Star Wars Holiday Special
Super Custom Workshop / Chris McD
An animated video about Darth Vader and some other stuff. Quicktime, not safe for work. Very different. In the style of R. Crumb but without all the misogyny.
An animated video about Darth Vader and some other stuff. Quicktime, not safe for work. Very different. In the style of R. Crumb but without all the misogyny.
The New York Times > National > Parked in a Desert, Waiting Out the Winter of Life
I read about this in the Atlantic, I think, about two years ago. Maybe Harper's. Anyway, slab city is right by the Salton sea, which is a pretty interesting body of water.
read about it here
I read about this in the Atlantic, I think, about two years ago. Maybe Harper's. Anyway, slab city is right by the Salton sea, which is a pretty interesting body of water.
read about it here
Thursday
I'd love to tell you readers out there in blogland all about my day, but tonight I don't have time to lolligag. A friend just got out of jail and so I have to hustle out the door, go out with him to the bar, and celebrate his release. It's a tradition, and really, where would we be without tradition?
Ordinarily I'd pass on this but the front page has an interesting icon on it.
SINFULSHIRTS.COM:
"Go to hell in style"
SINFULSHIRTS.COM:
"Go to hell in style"
Presidential Medals of Failure (washingtonpost.com):"First came George Tenet, the former CIA director and the man who had assured President Bush that it was a "slam-dunk" that Saddam Hussein's Iraq had weapons of mass destruction. Then came L. Paul Bremer, the former viceroy of Iraq, who disbanded the Iraqi army and ousted Baathists from government jobs, therefore contributing mightily to the current chaos in that country. Finally came retired Gen. Tommy Franks, the architect of the plan whereby the United States sent too few troops to Iraq."
There's a little problem I'd like to address. It's all about this phenomenon: one person is relating a story about something that happened to them, or something they thought of, or something that they saw in real life, and then somebody else jumps in with something they saw on television, or saw in a movie, or heard on the radio, as if that's even close to the same thing.
This happens all. the. time. All meaning is being sucked away. I don't know by whom, or where it's going, but tell me how many times in a day somebody responds to someone else in earshot with a conversation-ending non-sequitur about some TeeVee show or movie; I bet it's more than once.
Example: I can't even say the word "excellent", without some jackass saying "excellent, smithers" like "that one guy on the Simpsons". The shocking fact of the matter is that my ability to say a single word that can be comprehended as such by another person has been compromised by their exposure to television. They are complacent in this, because they don't seem to notice that my stories are different than theirs; in my stories there's a human being at one end having an experience through a corridor of time with we the storyteller and listener at the other end. My version demonstrates a continuum. Their version abrogates that continuum for the sake of their involvement. Because, you know, everyone is valuable and has something to add, even if what they have to add has already been added by the writer of a TeeVee show.
The other people actually feel the need to cite their sources when repeating somebody else's joke. Malcolm in the middle has been a culprit lately, several people I know have repeated jokes from that show. It's a shame that people enjoy having their brains massaged by that crap. I picture them comatose in front of the flickering box drooling like retards. On the bright side, television makes their brains feel happy, and without all that messy and tedious glue sniffing! If advertisers could sell space on the sides of glue containers, and if it was legal to sell glue as "Huffin' good permabond! Now with more fumes!" you'd see the same products on the tubes that you see on television.
This happens all. the. time. All meaning is being sucked away. I don't know by whom, or where it's going, but tell me how many times in a day somebody responds to someone else in earshot with a conversation-ending non-sequitur about some TeeVee show or movie; I bet it's more than once.
Example: I can't even say the word "excellent", without some jackass saying "excellent, smithers" like "that one guy on the Simpsons". The shocking fact of the matter is that my ability to say a single word that can be comprehended as such by another person has been compromised by their exposure to television. They are complacent in this, because they don't seem to notice that my stories are different than theirs; in my stories there's a human being at one end having an experience through a corridor of time with we the storyteller and listener at the other end. My version demonstrates a continuum. Their version abrogates that continuum for the sake of their involvement. Because, you know, everyone is valuable and has something to add, even if what they have to add has already been added by the writer of a TeeVee show.
The other people actually feel the need to cite their sources when repeating somebody else's joke. Malcolm in the middle has been a culprit lately, several people I know have repeated jokes from that show. It's a shame that people enjoy having their brains massaged by that crap. I picture them comatose in front of the flickering box drooling like retards. On the bright side, television makes their brains feel happy, and without all that messy and tedious glue sniffing! If advertisers could sell space on the sides of glue containers, and if it was legal to sell glue as "Huffin' good permabond! Now with more fumes!" you'd see the same products on the tubes that you see on television.
Here at double flee a, we're not afraid to test the theory that sometimes it helps to look at a yellow snake.
Wednesday
Pirates of the carribean guy asked me today if I looked at nudity. He asked me this because I told him about Lindsey Lohan and her contract with Disney. (I was trying to reach out to the poor guy in a way that didn't involve work or politics. Don't ask me why.) I said, "Yeah, every time I take a shower." He wouldn't be fazed by my attempt at common sense. I said this because I was trying to do the man a favor so he wouldn't embarass himself in an argument with me. He wouldn't be forestalled, so he bumbled on: "Don't you think that's a little disrespectful to your significant other?" To which I said "No, I think it's a little disrespectful for you to pretend to know what's right and wrong better than I do. Very disrespectful indeed. You know, there are people who don't think women ought to be visible at all and they make them wear shower curtains over their entire bodies. They're called the Taliban, and they at least have the balls to legislate their sexual hang-ups, unlike you." Well, no, I didn't say that, because, although true, that would have been rude. Almost as rude as what he had said to me, but people are used to that kind of rudeness. It's the norm for moral righteousness to prevail. If you ask me, our whole society has been watching too many leave it to beaver reruns on nick at nite. (There are people, the moral majority, they call themselves, utterly incapable of nuanced thought. Do I look at nudity... of all the idiotic...) What I actually said was "No, I don't." He was unwilling to provide me with the moral education he obviously assumes I am in need of, which is good, becuase I started my day off on a bad note, which for legal reasons I can't go into at this time other than to say it involves someone who got away with a confidence trick involving drugs and rape, and my indignance at this outrageous injustice.
Give Me Centrism or Give Me Death! :: SPIN MAGAZINE ONLINE: "THE TEN MOST ACCURATELY RATED ARTISTS IN ROCK HISTORY!"
Lindsey Lohan has a no-nudity clause with Disney that extends through the realease of "Herbie: fully loaded". Did I mention I can't wait for that movie to come out?
BostonHerald.com
BostonHerald.com
TinyP2P:
"TinyP2P is a functional peer-to-peer file sharing application, written in fifteen lines of code, in the Python programming language. I wrote TinyP2P to illustrate the difficulty of regulating peer-to-peer applications. Peer-to-peer apps can be very simple, and any moderately skilled programmer can write one, so attempts to ban their creation would be fruitless.'
"TinyP2P is a functional peer-to-peer file sharing application, written in fifteen lines of code, in the Python programming language. I wrote TinyP2P to illustrate the difficulty of regulating peer-to-peer applications. Peer-to-peer apps can be very simple, and any moderately skilled programmer can write one, so attempts to ban their creation would be fruitless.'
Tuesday
The things I do for art...
A day in the life of a butt:
First I lie there, shifting occasionally, then it's time to wake up. I'm usually, like "Hey, let's go!" so I/my person run off to the bathroom for a crap. Some are better than others, but normally they're ok. Then the wipe and it's time for a shower. After that there's usually a little sitting. I can tell when we're in the car because the seat's cold. Brr! Then it's pretty much sit/stand/walk all day at work. Some days there's lots of sitting and some days very little, but hey, I'm ready for anything. Sit, stand, you decide. I even hang out on the edge of a counter sometimes, supporting some weight while my person relaxes. Then the cold car seat again and we're home. Sometimes there's more crapping later, sometimes not. Normally more sitting happens and then it's bed time, where I lie there and shift occasionally. And that's my day. I'm a butt. That's what I do.
A day in the life of a butt:
First I lie there, shifting occasionally, then it's time to wake up. I'm usually, like "Hey, let's go!" so I/my person run off to the bathroom for a crap. Some are better than others, but normally they're ok. Then the wipe and it's time for a shower. After that there's usually a little sitting. I can tell when we're in the car because the seat's cold. Brr! Then it's pretty much sit/stand/walk all day at work. Some days there's lots of sitting and some days very little, but hey, I'm ready for anything. Sit, stand, you decide. I even hang out on the edge of a counter sometimes, supporting some weight while my person relaxes. Then the cold car seat again and we're home. Sometimes there's more crapping later, sometimes not. Normally more sitting happens and then it's bed time, where I lie there and shift occasionally. And that's my day. I'm a butt. That's what I do.
I recently had one of the best sauces of my life, a blackberry wine soy sauce which I just found out was made by these guys, but I don't think they make it any more. I am almost crying over this. Why does such a good thing have to go away like that?
According to google [insert sound of trumpets], it's only available as part of this gift pack. For all the trouble, and since they listed the ingredients, maybe it would be worth making yourself, and having me over for dinner. For posterity, the ingredient list, so I don't have to go looking it up:
Water, liquid soy protein, salt, sugar, cane vinegar, blackberry wine, and molasses.
According to google [insert sound of trumpets], it's only available as part of this gift pack. For all the trouble, and since they listed the ingredients, maybe it would be worth making yourself, and having me over for dinner. For posterity, the ingredient list, so I don't have to go looking it up:
Water, liquid soy protein, salt, sugar, cane vinegar, blackberry wine, and molasses.
When I showed a guy I work with the chick's butt that I posted about a couple of days ago, he stared at the screen, unable to believe what he was seeing. His reaction was kind if touching, in a way. Like watching a newborn foal take its first steps. Later he gave me a hug and said "Thank you. You're true".
I'm sure he also sends his thanks to you, Novell network security, for sucking at keeping cool stuff out of where I work, hard as you may try.
I'm sure he also sends his thanks to you, Novell network security, for sucking at keeping cool stuff out of where I work, hard as you may try.
guess which graphic novel series these posters remind me of:
hardcore punk rock flyer archive 1982-1984
hardcore punk rock flyer archive 1982-1984
Going to prison, shrimp? Kill yourself or read this:
hooking up: protective pairing for punks
Me, I'd take the suicide.
hooking up: protective pairing for punks
Me, I'd take the suicide.
Some rejected activities for the pharmacy holiday party:
albumin chugging contest
guess the office ladies' weight/age
group hug
tell people what you really think of them
drunk prank calling nursing units asking where the fucking drugs are already
pin the tail on the manager
name that phosphate
albumin chugging contest
guess the office ladies' weight/age
group hug
tell people what you really think of them
drunk prank calling nursing units asking where the fucking drugs are already
pin the tail on the manager
name that phosphate
Monday
Some of my favorite moments from Berlin Diary:
March 10, 1940, Memorial day:
November 27, 1940:
And obviously, September 22, 1938, about when Hitler would pitch such a fit over Benes and the Czechs that he threw himself on the floor and gnawed on the edge of the carpet. That's why he was called "Teppichfresser", meaning "carpet eater". It sort of reminds me of when Bush the younger pitched a fit at the (third?) debate. There's a pretty big difference between Hitler and Bush, but the comparison is there to be made, as Bush and Hitler were both exhibiting a lack of manners brought on by infantile petulance not befitting adults, never mind heads of state.
In other news, the guy I mentioned yesterdsy who forgot he asked me if I liked Pirates of the Carribean? I worked with him today. And he actually asked me the same question again. I was ready for this by this point, and decided to contradict what I had formerly said, which was itself a contradiction of what I had said in the first place. I said, "Yeah, it's ok." He said, "Yeah, me too." Hilarious.
It's getting cold outside. Must be winter.
March 10, 1940, Memorial day:
A front page editorial in the Lokal Anzeiger says: "This is no time for being sentimental. Men are dying for Germany day and night. One's personal fate now is unimportant. There's no asking why if one falls or is broken."
That's the trouble. If the Germans asked why, the flower of their youth might not always be condemned to be butchered on the battlefield. [In another paper], bannerlines in red ink over page one: "OVER THE GRAVES FORWARD!"
November 27, 1940:
Many stories about increasing sabotage in Holland. The Germans are furious at the number of their men, in both the army and police, who are being shoved into the numerous Dutch canals on these dark nights and drowned. X tells me a funny one. He says the British intelligence in Holland is working fine. Both sides in this war have built a number of dummy airdromes and strewn them with wooden planes. X says the Germans recently completed a very large one near Amsterdam. They lined up more than a hundred dummy planes made of wood on the field and waited for the British to come over and bomb them. Next morning the British did come. They let loose with a lot of bombs. The bombs were made of wood.
And obviously, September 22, 1938, about when Hitler would pitch such a fit over Benes and the Czechs that he threw himself on the floor and gnawed on the edge of the carpet. That's why he was called "Teppichfresser", meaning "carpet eater". It sort of reminds me of when Bush the younger pitched a fit at the (third?) debate. There's a pretty big difference between Hitler and Bush, but the comparison is there to be made, as Bush and Hitler were both exhibiting a lack of manners brought on by infantile petulance not befitting adults, never mind heads of state.
In other news, the guy I mentioned yesterdsy who forgot he asked me if I liked Pirates of the Carribean? I worked with him today. And he actually asked me the same question again. I was ready for this by this point, and decided to contradict what I had formerly said, which was itself a contradiction of what I had said in the first place. I said, "Yeah, it's ok." He said, "Yeah, me too." Hilarious.
It's getting cold outside. Must be winter.
Ok, I was going through one of my links from earlier today, the one where you shop for a porn actor, and I saw this guy, who I have to assume is an optimist. In my time of porn sifting, not a lot of porn actors have looked as run down as, and I love this name, too, Juan Cuba. The sheer audacity it takes to name yourself after Cuba!
Warning, naked man ensues. NSFW
Warning, naked man ensues. NSFW
Remember that girl's butt from a few days ago? Yes, you do. There is more of it here.
Not safe for work
Not safe for work
19th Century Etiquette: "how to keep yourself from looking like an ass if you happen to go back in time"
Go to the box on the lower right, click the button, and enter your zip code, and it will tell you who you are. It worked for me, but I'm in an easy neighborhood.
here
here
Rebel Sell: "what we see on display in Adbusters magazine is, and always has been, the true spirit of capitalism."
You think winter in Minnesota sucks? Friend, you don't know anything about winter in Minnesota
City Pages: Cruel and Unusual
City Pages: Cruel and Unusual
The president, waving to all the people who don't have health insurance. He then said "Don't worry, Americans, the key to good health is strong resolve, moral values, and lots of prayer."
Sunday
Fingerprints of Jackson, boy on magazines - Dec 11, 2004
Uh-oh. Looks like more trouble at neverland ranch. If he was going to molest children there, couldn't he have come up with a better cover name for the place? Neverland ranch sounds like a molestation factory. Some less obvious suggestions:
Crazyrichguywithseriousidentityissuesland
Mike's funhouse of salami wrestling
Jacko's porn and booze playhouse
I mean, really.
Uh-oh. Looks like more trouble at neverland ranch. If he was going to molest children there, couldn't he have come up with a better cover name for the place? Neverland ranch sounds like a molestation factory. Some less obvious suggestions:
Crazyrichguywithseriousidentityissuesland
Mike's funhouse of salami wrestling
Jacko's porn and booze playhouse
I mean, really.
Is it any surprise that sex-free sex education is fact-free teaching?
It was so windy today that walking across the wind was dangerous. It was coming from my left, and my left foot kept getting blown into the back of my right leg, making it seem as if I would trip, like I was in some perverted sense of humor fun-house. The only thing missing was the carny nearby, smiling menacingly and wiping his neck with a filthy Jack Daniel's handkerchief. My right foot, on the alternate steps, would wobble all around. On a small scale, it might have looked like I was performing a new form of dance.
I asked a guy I work with what I should make for dinner tonight, and he told me some kind of pasta with zucchini, onion, cilantro, carrots, and all sorts of other things. I didn't say, but thought, "actually, it's more like which can should I open?" I'm just not feeling up to making a big dinner. I'm kind of sore all over, think I'm coming down with something. I thought it might be dioxin poisoning, but I looked in the mirror and it was still good-lookin' me.
The dinner-suggestion guy is married but wishes he wasn't. That's how most married guys are, I think. The smart ones don't admit it. Most women, on the other hand, love marriage. It's what their whole lives have been leading up to. Go out on any playground in the world and you'll see little girls playing house. All the boys are skinning their knees playing competitive sports, at which there is a clear winner and a loser and which has a definite conclusion, but the girls play house, which never ends and in which there is only one rule: mom is the boss. From what I hear, that game never changes.
How will I ever get married? I've got myself totally convinced that it's a terrible idea, and for good reason. I don't want to live in a house where somebody else is the boss. At chez Dale, the toilet seat is up, there is a big gun where kids can get at it, and there is cold beer in the fridge, and that's the way I like it. What I like and why is not going to change. My surroundings reflect my preferences, nay, my very character, and I'm willingly going to introduce a firestorm of controversy into my life that will suck away my former identity like a tornado? What the hell?
I'm getting some chriatmas shopping done on the net, which is kind of saving me right now. There's no fusillade of obnoxious christmas music in front of the computer.
I just finished reading "Berlin Diary" by William Shirer, and it was great. Next I reread rise and fall of the third reich. Good times. Hopefully I'll have that one done and another started by the time school begins; Rise and Fall has a big swastika on the cover and I might get it confiscated by the diversity/sensitivity police. Maybe the one I'll start when I go to school will be called "Diversity is so fucking awesome that I wish I could be a different color every day! Being white makes me feel like shit!" There's not a book like that, but if there was, people would read it. Such is the state of "diversity". I failed a quesiton at a job interview about diversity when I wanted to be a 911 operator, thus, they wouldn't give me a job eating rocks at the city. I'm not stupid enough to go for that diversity-has-meaning garbage. A guy I work with is, though. He bought a cd called "diversecity" and then told a black guy about it. That black guy, ostensibly accustomed to the ingratiations of white people, said "Cool". I was watching all this and just shook my head. This is the same white guy that had formerly asked me if I liked "pirates of the Carribean", and I said sure. Then he said "me too" and that was the end of our conversation that day. A couple of days later he asked me again if I liked pirates of the carribean. I said no, because Johnny Depp's character seemed way over the top, it was clearly over-acted. He was kind of hurt that I didn't think it was awesome and that was the end of that, and for all I know, the end of his trying to get me to like him. I don't like people that want to be liked too much.
Anyway, I've got some slow music on the webcast tonight and tomorrow. It's music to OD by, so stay away from the heroin, please.
I asked a guy I work with what I should make for dinner tonight, and he told me some kind of pasta with zucchini, onion, cilantro, carrots, and all sorts of other things. I didn't say, but thought, "actually, it's more like which can should I open?" I'm just not feeling up to making a big dinner. I'm kind of sore all over, think I'm coming down with something. I thought it might be dioxin poisoning, but I looked in the mirror and it was still good-lookin' me.
The dinner-suggestion guy is married but wishes he wasn't. That's how most married guys are, I think. The smart ones don't admit it. Most women, on the other hand, love marriage. It's what their whole lives have been leading up to. Go out on any playground in the world and you'll see little girls playing house. All the boys are skinning their knees playing competitive sports, at which there is a clear winner and a loser and which has a definite conclusion, but the girls play house, which never ends and in which there is only one rule: mom is the boss. From what I hear, that game never changes.
How will I ever get married? I've got myself totally convinced that it's a terrible idea, and for good reason. I don't want to live in a house where somebody else is the boss. At chez Dale, the toilet seat is up, there is a big gun where kids can get at it, and there is cold beer in the fridge, and that's the way I like it. What I like and why is not going to change. My surroundings reflect my preferences, nay, my very character, and I'm willingly going to introduce a firestorm of controversy into my life that will suck away my former identity like a tornado? What the hell?
I'm getting some chriatmas shopping done on the net, which is kind of saving me right now. There's no fusillade of obnoxious christmas music in front of the computer.
I just finished reading "Berlin Diary" by William Shirer, and it was great. Next I reread rise and fall of the third reich. Good times. Hopefully I'll have that one done and another started by the time school begins; Rise and Fall has a big swastika on the cover and I might get it confiscated by the diversity/sensitivity police. Maybe the one I'll start when I go to school will be called "Diversity is so fucking awesome that I wish I could be a different color every day! Being white makes me feel like shit!" There's not a book like that, but if there was, people would read it. Such is the state of "diversity". I failed a quesiton at a job interview about diversity when I wanted to be a 911 operator, thus, they wouldn't give me a job eating rocks at the city. I'm not stupid enough to go for that diversity-has-meaning garbage. A guy I work with is, though. He bought a cd called "diversecity" and then told a black guy about it. That black guy, ostensibly accustomed to the ingratiations of white people, said "Cool". I was watching all this and just shook my head. This is the same white guy that had formerly asked me if I liked "pirates of the Carribean", and I said sure. Then he said "me too" and that was the end of our conversation that day. A couple of days later he asked me again if I liked pirates of the carribean. I said no, because Johnny Depp's character seemed way over the top, it was clearly over-acted. He was kind of hurt that I didn't think it was awesome and that was the end of that, and for all I know, the end of his trying to get me to like him. I don't like people that want to be liked too much.
Anyway, I've got some slow music on the webcast tonight and tomorrow. It's music to OD by, so stay away from the heroin, please.
This is a great album:
BBC - Experimental Review - Casino Versus Japan, Whole Numbers Play The Basics
BBC - Experimental Review - Casino Versus Japan, Whole Numbers Play The Basics
Congratulations to Hank Reynolds on the successful completion of Edward 40-Hands!
Those pictures aren't of him, but will help you get the idea.
Those pictures aren't of him, but will help you get the idea.
Saturday
Use the internet like the tool it is, and like the tool you are.
Just kidding, but I really like calling people tools.
Internet Archive: Wayback Machine
Just kidding, but I really like calling people tools.
Internet Archive: Wayback Machine
Friday
Embarrassing facts about me, interspersed with jaded observations of our basically empty culture:
I thought up a song I was convinced should be recorded by Harry Connick, Jr. and tried to get him to talk about it with me, but was given an impressive runaround by his "people", even by runaround standards. Because of my temporary enthusiasm, I am now on his mass emailing list. His agent or fan club or somebody sends me an email every once in a while to remind me that Harry Connick, Jr. is famous. When I see those emails I try to delete them before I can read the subject line to get back to my comfy old life of denial, but it never works. To go ahead and try to get myself off the mailing list would miss the point of denying the whole thing. I'm also afraid that if I did try to get off the list I'd get an email back that said "Oh, no you don't. You're B-U-S-T-E-D."
We went downtown to watch the Holidazzle parade. Every float was sponsored by some corporation. The TCF bank snowman came through waving at people. His waving hand said TCF in the palm, each letter the size pf a dinner plate. How festive. It was nice to see a bunch of people in the holiday spirit, but it's hard to muster up any enthusiatic spirit when everything you see is an advertisement. I guess it fits the season, though, the season of hyperconsumption. It's one culture that assimilates us all and makes us brothers and sisters in the most American thing there is, overspending. It's like that jingly bell noise on the speakers renders people helpless over their credit cards. That's the real magic of christmas, disenfranchised people under the gun to show their love by buying people off, powerless over their feelings of emotional inadequacy. Santa Claus came by fat and jolly, a classic Coke santa with white beard and all, but his red suit was tip to tip Taget logos. It was tacky, but if I was paying for the parade, I'd make Santa advertise for me, too. It's like this t-shirt I saw that says "I have the dick, so I make the rules."
We went up to Marshall Field's for the christmas offering. Some years they do the nutcracker, this year they did snow white and the seven dwarves. It was a nice presentation, kind of funky. You could practically hear the smartly dressed designers going over the details as you walked through. "Ok, the diamond mine where the dwarves work is actually a dance club called the diamond mine! And they have the wedding at the diamond mine at the end and it's like, the story's the same, but way funkier!" It was very well put-together and if you've got kids, it's a winner.
I saw a redheaded girl downtown today that I haven't seen for years. The lovely J and I passed her, rather symbolically, I thought, in opposite sides of a revolving door. I know I haven't seen her for years because for a little while I had a crush on her. I felt she made my life a little more interesting by just being around, because I'd wonder if I was going to see her and whatnot. Once I was on the same bus as she, and I saw her reading Cannery Row by John Steinbeck, and I was delighted. I went right out and read Cannery Row and some other Steinbecks so that I could talk about it with her when I eventually ran into her. Which I never, ever did. The really desperate, embarassing part: I had a lot of time on my hands and worked in a really quiet bookstore so I thought I'd make her life a little more interesting, made a bag up with some books in it I thought she'd enjoy, and left a note on it with an obviously false name on it, in the same way we did at the bookstore with things that have been paid for and are waiting to be picked up. I then made a note in an envelope that said on it "for you", which I was going to give her when I saw her and vanish (I only saw her in passing in public and was planning to disappear), which would tell her that I saw her reading Cannery Row and to go pick up the bag of books I thought she'd like, and then in the bag there was some information on how to get in touch with me in an indirect way, so as to leave the ball in her court and not be too damn creepy. It wasn't as creepy, I don't think, as it was plain different, and I thought she'd be flattered by the gesture, and if she wasn't, she didn't have to get in touch. Months later, that note was found by my now (thank goodness) ex-girlfriend and resulted in a really difficult "explanation process". Guys, you know the one. She was cheating on me anyway, which I was ninety-nine per cent sure of. When you're cheating on the other person, though, you have to act twice as hard like you're not, so it was a bad day, as you can imagine, for Dale. I practically ran to the store, took the note out of it on how to get in touch with me, and the books became part of my collection, which I gave away and sold most of this summer. I hadn't thought about that for years now. And that's the story of the anonymous redhead and what a lonely maniac I was and how doing something nice for someone can get you in trouble with someone else.
Was happy tonight when gas dropped to 1.699 a gallon when I was on empty.
I thought up a song I was convinced should be recorded by Harry Connick, Jr. and tried to get him to talk about it with me, but was given an impressive runaround by his "people", even by runaround standards. Because of my temporary enthusiasm, I am now on his mass emailing list. His agent or fan club or somebody sends me an email every once in a while to remind me that Harry Connick, Jr. is famous. When I see those emails I try to delete them before I can read the subject line to get back to my comfy old life of denial, but it never works. To go ahead and try to get myself off the mailing list would miss the point of denying the whole thing. I'm also afraid that if I did try to get off the list I'd get an email back that said "Oh, no you don't. You're B-U-S-T-E-D."
We went downtown to watch the Holidazzle parade. Every float was sponsored by some corporation. The TCF bank snowman came through waving at people. His waving hand said TCF in the palm, each letter the size pf a dinner plate. How festive. It was nice to see a bunch of people in the holiday spirit, but it's hard to muster up any enthusiatic spirit when everything you see is an advertisement. I guess it fits the season, though, the season of hyperconsumption. It's one culture that assimilates us all and makes us brothers and sisters in the most American thing there is, overspending. It's like that jingly bell noise on the speakers renders people helpless over their credit cards. That's the real magic of christmas, disenfranchised people under the gun to show their love by buying people off, powerless over their feelings of emotional inadequacy. Santa Claus came by fat and jolly, a classic Coke santa with white beard and all, but his red suit was tip to tip Taget logos. It was tacky, but if I was paying for the parade, I'd make Santa advertise for me, too. It's like this t-shirt I saw that says "I have the dick, so I make the rules."
We went up to Marshall Field's for the christmas offering. Some years they do the nutcracker, this year they did snow white and the seven dwarves. It was a nice presentation, kind of funky. You could practically hear the smartly dressed designers going over the details as you walked through. "Ok, the diamond mine where the dwarves work is actually a dance club called the diamond mine! And they have the wedding at the diamond mine at the end and it's like, the story's the same, but way funkier!" It was very well put-together and if you've got kids, it's a winner.
I saw a redheaded girl downtown today that I haven't seen for years. The lovely J and I passed her, rather symbolically, I thought, in opposite sides of a revolving door. I know I haven't seen her for years because for a little while I had a crush on her. I felt she made my life a little more interesting by just being around, because I'd wonder if I was going to see her and whatnot. Once I was on the same bus as she, and I saw her reading Cannery Row by John Steinbeck, and I was delighted. I went right out and read Cannery Row and some other Steinbecks so that I could talk about it with her when I eventually ran into her. Which I never, ever did. The really desperate, embarassing part: I had a lot of time on my hands and worked in a really quiet bookstore so I thought I'd make her life a little more interesting, made a bag up with some books in it I thought she'd enjoy, and left a note on it with an obviously false name on it, in the same way we did at the bookstore with things that have been paid for and are waiting to be picked up. I then made a note in an envelope that said on it "for you", which I was going to give her when I saw her and vanish (I only saw her in passing in public and was planning to disappear), which would tell her that I saw her reading Cannery Row and to go pick up the bag of books I thought she'd like, and then in the bag there was some information on how to get in touch with me in an indirect way, so as to leave the ball in her court and not be too damn creepy. It wasn't as creepy, I don't think, as it was plain different, and I thought she'd be flattered by the gesture, and if she wasn't, she didn't have to get in touch. Months later, that note was found by my now (thank goodness) ex-girlfriend and resulted in a really difficult "explanation process". Guys, you know the one. She was cheating on me anyway, which I was ninety-nine per cent sure of. When you're cheating on the other person, though, you have to act twice as hard like you're not, so it was a bad day, as you can imagine, for Dale. I practically ran to the store, took the note out of it on how to get in touch with me, and the books became part of my collection, which I gave away and sold most of this summer. I hadn't thought about that for years now. And that's the story of the anonymous redhead and what a lonely maniac I was and how doing something nice for someone can get you in trouble with someone else.
Was happy tonight when gas dropped to 1.699 a gallon when I was on empty.
Today I pay my tuition. It's a good thing I saved some money because the loan isn't processed yet and I have to get this paid for or I will be a finger-stabbin' pharmacy techinician indefinitely, and that is truly a terrifying prospect.
Just heard from an old friend that he's been sous chef at a new restaurant for three months. Trigg's, which I can't find any evidence of in cyberspace, which is strange, because it reportedly took a million-dollar makeover in meatspace where Nora's used to be on Lake street at the Excelsior split by lake Calhoun.
Good luck to the lovely J (I start calling her that because my mother actually was calling her Joyce over the Thanksgiving holiday, during which the food was excellent. My mom can whip up a winner.) on her ECG test today. I know you'll do fine no matter what but I'm hoping they give you a. fib or a. tach. Keep your sinus rhythm normal and you'll be fine.
I made barbecue last night and there's a ton of it, so if anybody wants some just let me know and I'll make you a sandwich.
Just heard from an old friend that he's been sous chef at a new restaurant for three months. Trigg's, which I can't find any evidence of in cyberspace, which is strange, because it reportedly took a million-dollar makeover in meatspace where Nora's used to be on Lake street at the Excelsior split by lake Calhoun.
Good luck to the lovely J (I start calling her that because my mother actually was calling her Joyce over the Thanksgiving holiday, during which the food was excellent. My mom can whip up a winner.) on her ECG test today. I know you'll do fine no matter what but I'm hoping they give you a. fib or a. tach. Keep your sinus rhythm normal and you'll be fine.
I made barbecue last night and there's a ton of it, so if anybody wants some just let me know and I'll make you a sandwich.
Thursday
print at work:
Reason: Disney's War Against the Counterculture: Why a decades-old copyright case matters now more than ever.
Reason: Disney's War Against the Counterculture: Why a decades-old copyright case matters now more than ever.
I stabbed the hell out of my left index finger yesterday with an eighteen guage needle. I sank it way in the pad of that baby. Blood was everywhere. I started to panic because it's hard to be a watchmaker and have no feeling in your fingers.
That has nothing to do with this link to a cool screensaver:
electric sheep
That has nothing to do with this link to a cool screensaver:
electric sheep
Wayne Lammers has a website where you can listen to songs about the GOP, including "my drugs are red white and blue".
How gorgeous is this?
The world's highest open air restaurant.
2Bangkok.com - Sirocco Restaurant
That shot of the stairs is really incredible.
The world's highest open air restaurant.
2Bangkok.com - Sirocco Restaurant
That shot of the stairs is really incredible.
Awesome.
John F. Kennedy International Airport in realtime
Looks like they're going to crash into each other!
And then you click a plane and it tells you what it is and how high. They aren't going to crash after all.
John F. Kennedy International Airport in realtime
Looks like they're going to crash into each other!
And then you click a plane and it tells you what it is and how high. They aren't going to crash after all.
"The history of politics -- more, the history of human thinking -- is the history of words. Consider what happened to the word "liberal" in the United States."
The Chronicle: 12/10/2004: The Triumph and Collapse of Liberalism
The Chronicle: 12/10/2004: The Triumph and Collapse of Liberalism
Family values, from Eschaton
Wednesday
On the fly (meaning I don't want to reformat everything), here's a story from Joel, who writes:
I give you Spc. Thomas Wilson.
This guy has such huge balls that they may throw off the earth's gravitation and hurl us all into the Sun.
Wilson, an airplane mechanic whose unit, the 278th Regimental Combat Team of the Tennessee Army National Guard, is about to drive north into Iraq for a one-year tour of duty, put his finger on a problem that has bedeviled the Pentagon for more than a year. Rarely, though, is it put so bluntly in a public forum.
Spc. Thomas Wilson had asked the defense secretary, "Why do we soldiers have to dig through local landfills for pieces of scrap metal and compromised ballistic glass to up-armor our vehicles?" Shouts of approval and applause arose from the estimated 2,300 soldiers who had assembled to see Rumsfeld.
Rumsfeld hesitated and asked Wilson to repeat his question.
"We do not have proper armored vehicles to carry with us north," Wilson, 31, of Ringgold, Ga., concluded after asking again.
You go to war with the Army you have," Rumsfeld replied, "not the Army you might want or wish to have."
Guys like Rumsfeld are the Army I have. Guys like Specialist Wilson are the Army I want and wish I had.
http://www.wkrn.com/Global/story.asp?S=2667601
http://www.ajc.com/news/content/news/stories/1204/08wilson.html
http://www.guardian.co.uk/worldlatest/story/0,1280,-4661461,00.html
http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-120804rumsfeld_lat,0,6514552.story?coll=la-home-headlines
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/4079201.stm
EDIT, from Joel:
ok so he's from georgia, but still, the guy stood up in front of people and
said things to Donald Rumsfeld that Donald Rumsfeld didn't want to hear.
Here's what usually happens to people who anger Rumsfeld:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/Iraq/Story/0,2763,1005281,00.html
I give you Spc. Thomas Wilson.
This guy has such huge balls that they may throw off the earth's gravitation and hurl us all into the Sun.
Wilson, an airplane mechanic whose unit, the 278th Regimental Combat Team of the Tennessee Army National Guard, is about to drive north into Iraq for a one-year tour of duty, put his finger on a problem that has bedeviled the Pentagon for more than a year. Rarely, though, is it put so bluntly in a public forum.
Spc. Thomas Wilson had asked the defense secretary, "Why do we soldiers have to dig through local landfills for pieces of scrap metal and compromised ballistic glass to up-armor our vehicles?" Shouts of approval and applause arose from the estimated 2,300 soldiers who had assembled to see Rumsfeld.
Rumsfeld hesitated and asked Wilson to repeat his question.
"We do not have proper armored vehicles to carry with us north," Wilson, 31, of Ringgold, Ga., concluded after asking again.
You go to war with the Army you have," Rumsfeld replied, "not the Army you might want or wish to have."
Guys like Rumsfeld are the Army I have. Guys like Specialist Wilson are the Army I want and wish I had.
http://www.wkrn.com/Global/story.asp?S=2667601
http://www.ajc.com/news/content/news/stories/1204/08wilson.html
http://www.guardian.co.uk/worldlatest/story/0,1280,-4661461,00.html
http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-120804rumsfeld_lat,0,6514552.story?coll=la-home-headlines
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/4079201.stm
EDIT, from Joel:
ok so he's from georgia, but still, the guy stood up in front of people and
said things to Donald Rumsfeld that Donald Rumsfeld didn't want to hear.
Here's what usually happens to people who anger Rumsfeld:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/Iraq/Story/0,2763,1005281,00.html
The New York Times > International > Middle East > Intelligence: 2 C.I.A. Reports Offer Warnings on Iraq's Path
We won't have to worry about getting any good intelligence for long, though, because earlier today
The U.S. Congress on Wednesday gave final approval to the biggest overhaul of U.S. spy agencies in more than 50 years, sending the bill to President Bush
We won't have to worry about getting any good intelligence for long, though, because earlier today
The U.S. Congress on Wednesday gave final approval to the biggest overhaul of U.S. spy agencies in more than 50 years, sending the bill to President Bush
This is a semi-exhaustive catalog of old things that my neighbors the collectors will no doubt appreciate.
Tick Tock Toys - Archives & Galleries
Tick Tock Toys - Archives & Galleries
Tuesday
Check out Ann Coulter and Tucker Carlson on Canada.
They're such assholes.
How can anyone think that she's clever?
video
They're such assholes.
How can anyone think that she's clever?
video
print at work:
BuzzFlash > Maureen Farrell > "God Is With Us": Hitler's Rhetoric and the Lure of "Moral Values"
BuzzFlash > Maureen Farrell > "God Is With Us": Hitler's Rhetoric and the Lure of "Moral Values"
Leaderless resistance today
"Leaderless Resistance is a strategy in which small groups (cells) and individuals fight an entrenched power through independent acts of violence and mayhem. The cells do not have any central coordination — they are leaderless — and they do not have explicit communications with one another. As a result, causes that employ Leaderless Resistance are themselves resistant to informers and traitors."
This sounds very familiar to my brother the network theory guy.
"Leaderless Resistance is a strategy in which small groups (cells) and individuals fight an entrenched power through independent acts of violence and mayhem. The cells do not have any central coordination — they are leaderless — and they do not have explicit communications with one another. As a result, causes that employ Leaderless Resistance are themselves resistant to informers and traitors."
This sounds very familiar to my brother the network theory guy.
Speaking of Buck Truck, I've been wondering for years why it is I like things that are bad so much. There are plenty of people who are far more consumed with badness's pursuit, but still, b-movies, dingy spots at theme parks, downtown Spokane, seedy bars all have an allure for me. One reason which Buck Truck gets my attention (and Wesley Willis, too) is that they skip mediocre and go straight for awful, and for that they deserve a little respect. They didn't wind up having a song at number thirty-five on the top 40 charts and then vanish, no, they did their thing no matter how it sounded and they id it with enthusiasm. In a world full of sell-outs they were the real article. Buck Truck, I salute you and your unconvenional oeuvre. Keep on trucking. I know you will.
This has been a really good week linkwise. If you haven't had a chance to point and click aimlessly for a while, take advantage.
This has been a really good week linkwise. If you haven't had a chance to point and click aimlessly for a while, take advantage.
Monday
They strapped a camera to a golden eagle. Here's the footage.
Animal Planet :: Spy on the Wild :: Bird Technology
Animal Planet :: Spy on the Wild :: Bird Technology
Somebody should make a biography-type movie about Clara Bow starring this woman. It would be good to keep it accurate but I'd forgive them if they have to make up a scene where Clara Bow has sex with me.
Google Search: Maggie Gyllenhaal
By the way, I hate that Stephen Dorff.
Google Search: Maggie Gyllenhaal
By the way, I hate that Stephen Dorff.
I want a XM8.
Oh boy. It's the creation museum.
What a hoot.
Creation Museum | Walk-through
Where they explain that teaching natural seleciton led to the Columbine high schoool massacre.
What a hoot.
Creation Museum | Walk-through
Where they explain that teaching natural seleciton led to the Columbine high schoool massacre.
Sunday
Here, you can watch somebody else's memories pass across your screen. They custom make videos for people about themselves or their loved ones. Once, I wanted to sell mullet wigs on the internet. Another time I wanted to make these videos. I still don't know about the wigs, but as for this, I'm glad I didn't do it.
Forever Network LifeStory
Forever Network LifeStory
Cool new word game.
Etymology and word origins -- MooT is the game of etymology, semantics, grammar, and usage
Etymology and word origins -- MooT is the game of etymology, semantics, grammar, and usage
When camping in Australia, it isn't the nature that's dangerous.
Backpackers snub casual sex warning
Backpackers snub casual sex warning
Looks like conservatives have another kooky idea. This is retarded, no offense to retarded people.
Proposal Would Hit Blue State Taxpayers
Proposal Would Hit Blue State Taxpayers
Somebody just said "Cool, it's twelve thirty."
It occurred to me that if a midget came driving up in a little twelve-thirty-mobile and laid on his horn and drove away again, it really would be cool. We'd all look forward to that, I think. Extra points if the midget is naked.
It occurred to me that if a midget came driving up in a little twelve-thirty-mobile and laid on his horn and drove away again, it really would be cool. We'd all look forward to that, I think. Extra points if the midget is naked.
Parking in this neighborhood is ridiculous. When you get a parking spot within half a block of your house here, you quickly hire a professional photographer to come and preserve the moment so that you can blow it way up and hang it on the ceiling over your bed. Anyone having a nightmare who woke up and saw their car in a good parking spot like that would snuggle down peacefully for certain. I drove around for fifteen minutes last night before I settled for a spot about a block away. That's half a block better than I would have got had I not driven around. When it gets cold nobody wants to walk anywhere.
I was getting back after the normal time becuase I'd been at "monster jam", a monster truck rally at the marshmallow dome downtown. I grew nauseated by the public's acquiescence to the disembodied voice on the P.A. saying to please rise, and then they played Lee fucking Greenwood's god bless the USA. They all just stood there. I wanted to sit, but for the first time ever, instead of sitting, I didn't. There wasn't one person sitting in the entire metrodome and the big ol' anthem hadn't even started yet. I was angry with myself for not having the cajones to sit that one out, so when some little girl started ruining the national anthem I went out for a bratwurst. When I got back, my friend who I was sitting next to starts in on me about leaving: "Next time you want to disrespect something like that, don't do it when a vietnam vet is sitting right there." He gestured to some guy to prove his point was salient. I told him that, actually, my freedom to go get a hot dog is what this ceremony is all about and I have the right to do whatever I want, and that I can't believe he's saying this to me. He says something like "Well, still. You know what you were doing was pretty messed up." I looked at him and told him he must be out of his mond and that was the end of it. Man. You think you know some people and they surprise you. I couldn't do what I wanted which was get out of there and not talk to him for a long time over being such a dolt, because I had left my stuff in his car, which we had taken over there. I bet he wouldn't have spoken to me like that if it hadn't been in there, either. His sensibilities are informed to a large extent, by treacherous females. This is true.
Anyway, that ruined "monster jam" (not that base commercialism masked in patriotism was that good to begin with; there were three America themed monster trucks, "Madusa", "Ameriquest freedom" and some other one.), as mandatory nationalistic enthusiasm ruins everything "say cheese" style. And where do they get the terribly singing girls to maim the national anthem like that? People would cheer if a fucking dog howled the thing.
I was getting back after the normal time becuase I'd been at "monster jam", a monster truck rally at the marshmallow dome downtown. I grew nauseated by the public's acquiescence to the disembodied voice on the P.A. saying to please rise, and then they played Lee fucking Greenwood's god bless the USA. They all just stood there. I wanted to sit, but for the first time ever, instead of sitting, I didn't. There wasn't one person sitting in the entire metrodome and the big ol' anthem hadn't even started yet. I was angry with myself for not having the cajones to sit that one out, so when some little girl started ruining the national anthem I went out for a bratwurst. When I got back, my friend who I was sitting next to starts in on me about leaving: "Next time you want to disrespect something like that, don't do it when a vietnam vet is sitting right there." He gestured to some guy to prove his point was salient. I told him that, actually, my freedom to go get a hot dog is what this ceremony is all about and I have the right to do whatever I want, and that I can't believe he's saying this to me. He says something like "Well, still. You know what you were doing was pretty messed up." I looked at him and told him he must be out of his mond and that was the end of it. Man. You think you know some people and they surprise you. I couldn't do what I wanted which was get out of there and not talk to him for a long time over being such a dolt, because I had left my stuff in his car, which we had taken over there. I bet he wouldn't have spoken to me like that if it hadn't been in there, either. His sensibilities are informed to a large extent, by treacherous females. This is true.
Anyway, that ruined "monster jam" (not that base commercialism masked in patriotism was that good to begin with; there were three America themed monster trucks, "Madusa", "Ameriquest freedom" and some other one.), as mandatory nationalistic enthusiasm ruins everything "say cheese" style. And where do they get the terribly singing girls to maim the national anthem like that? People would cheer if a fucking dog howled the thing.
Saturday
print at work:
PopMatters Music Feature | How Hip-Hop Music Is Slowly Transcending Its Circular Culture
PopMatters Music Feature | How Hip-Hop Music Is Slowly Transcending Its Circular Culture
The AV Geeks Film Archive is an ephemeral film collection curated by Skip Elsheimer. What started as a hobby more than ten years is now a lifetime commitment. His collection has grown to over 14,000 films gathered from school auctions, thrift stores, closets and dumpsters.
Internet Archive: AV Geeks
Internet Archive: AV Geeks
Friday
NewsNet5.com - News - Officer Pulls Over Man Wearing Panties For Drunken Driving
The guy's a high school teacher. Sucks to be him.
The guy's a high school teacher. Sucks to be him.
Welcome to NegativWorldWideWebland
I was right. Negativland is f-in' awesome.
This made me laugh out loud.
Audio streaming KJR. It's a pity he wasn't hijacking the station at the time.
The first thing on this page: Audio Files and Gadgetry is the forbidden single. It's so great.
I was right. Negativland is f-in' awesome.
This made me laugh out loud.
Audio streaming KJR. It's a pity he wasn't hijacking the station at the time.
The first thing on this page: Audio Files and Gadgetry is the forbidden single. It's so great.
Thursday
An ad I'm going to put in the classifieds:
white guy, black guy seek mexican guy for wacky high jinks. 377-7996
That's the phone number for the place the lovely J and I have pizza every so often. It's the best. Soho pizza by the slice, 2532 Hennepin Ave.
white guy, black guy seek mexican guy for wacky high jinks. 377-7996
That's the phone number for the place the lovely J and I have pizza every so often. It's the best. Soho pizza by the slice, 2532 Hennepin Ave.
Note to self:
- find out if Negativland is, as I suspect, one of the most important bands of our time
- download end of the line by traveling wilburys
- make a christmas list already. sheesh
- find out if Negativland is, as I suspect, one of the most important bands of our time
- download end of the line by traveling wilburys
- make a christmas list already. sheesh
Getting registered for the watchmaking program at saint paul college was a snap, but the loan process is grueling.
On the way to Tennessee, the lovely J and I passed a car that was all smashed up. Another word that leaps to mind is annihilated. It was a green Saturn, the same exact car we were in at the time. A state trooper that had passed us doing about a hundred had already arrived and thrown a blue tarp over the (presumably very bloody) passenger compartment. It looked like the passengers must have had their bodies rearranged in the process of getting creamed by semis. Joyce is right. The little cars and the big cars should have different roads. That way the priapic-deficient hummer drivers could be the ones who were dwarfed by the hulking death machines. Three land barges had sustained serious damage, and their drivers were standing about swaying slightly, with that thousand yard stare that post-traumatic stress people have. They had just seen some really bad road carnage on a perfect Wisconsin day. The ex-Saturn had one of those fabulously popular red, white, and blue ribbon magnets on it. About those magnets: why didn't I think of that?
If you can, get to Figlio in uptown Minneapolis for the pumpkin ravioli. It's combination of sophistication and comfort is masterful. I just left that apostrophe in that sentence to raise hackles. I have to see so much of that awful punctuation I thought I'd do it, too, to see if it felt good to strike back. It doesn't feel good, by the way. I had the Figlio hot brown, a gravied turkey with bacon on grilled bread dish that made me groan with pleasure. Gah. Dinner was a ten. The waiter was a six. He was pretty anxious to sell, sell, sell, and didn't care if we noticed. Wouldn't it be nice if we could all just pretend that money wasn't so fucking important? I'm doing my part.
The lovely J and I were celebrating her birthday, which I neglected to post yesterday.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, J! Have a great year!
It's a pity we don't have two birthdays, or we'd get to go to Figlio to celebrate twice a year.
On the way to Tennessee, the lovely J and I passed a car that was all smashed up. Another word that leaps to mind is annihilated. It was a green Saturn, the same exact car we were in at the time. A state trooper that had passed us doing about a hundred had already arrived and thrown a blue tarp over the (presumably very bloody) passenger compartment. It looked like the passengers must have had their bodies rearranged in the process of getting creamed by semis. Joyce is right. The little cars and the big cars should have different roads. That way the priapic-deficient hummer drivers could be the ones who were dwarfed by the hulking death machines. Three land barges had sustained serious damage, and their drivers were standing about swaying slightly, with that thousand yard stare that post-traumatic stress people have. They had just seen some really bad road carnage on a perfect Wisconsin day. The ex-Saturn had one of those fabulously popular red, white, and blue ribbon magnets on it. About those magnets: why didn't I think of that?
If you can, get to Figlio in uptown Minneapolis for the pumpkin ravioli. It's combination of sophistication and comfort is masterful. I just left that apostrophe in that sentence to raise hackles. I have to see so much of that awful punctuation I thought I'd do it, too, to see if it felt good to strike back. It doesn't feel good, by the way. I had the Figlio hot brown, a gravied turkey with bacon on grilled bread dish that made me groan with pleasure. Gah. Dinner was a ten. The waiter was a six. He was pretty anxious to sell, sell, sell, and didn't care if we noticed. Wouldn't it be nice if we could all just pretend that money wasn't so fucking important? I'm doing my part.
The lovely J and I were celebrating her birthday, which I neglected to post yesterday.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, J! Have a great year!
It's a pity we don't have two birthdays, or we'd get to go to Figlio to celebrate twice a year.
Wednesday
I want this:
Amazon.com: Books: Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World: A Novel (Vintage International)
Amazon.com: Books: Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World: A Novel (Vintage International)
There's something a little strange about the Jim Bob & Michelle Duggar Family
facettes de la petite mort
In which the faces of people having orgasms are photographed.
Safe for work.
In which the faces of people having orgasms are photographed.
Safe for work.
A Singular Christmas
Cool audio. I don't really understand how this was made, but it's a good concept.
Cool audio. I don't really understand how this was made, but it's a good concept.
bowling green sewing machine
retina barbecue
- learn something
- popurls
- 0tv.com
- betty butterfield
- new betty
- concrete tv
- dale's mails
- exile
- fairlane
- fishki
- games section
- get your war on
- jim goad
- jonestown
- kfai
- landover baptist church
- listen to a movie
- mack white
- mcsweeney's
- memepool
- memeorandum
- memory hole
- memphilter
- metafilter
- mimi smartypants
- newsmap
- pamela gay, astronomer
- planet krulik
- pleix
- pretty pictures videos
- something awful
- spoonbender
- sutton impact studio
- technorati top 100
- tinypic
- today's front pages
- upenn online library
- watch links
- wolcott
- wood s lot
- wulad
- air america
- sleepbot
- kcrw simulcast
- ween
- the current
- wfmu
- watchmaker podcast
- boot liquor
eustachian justice league
many moons
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