Friday, August 31, 2007

Fully Fecal Friday

This is not a story about my poo. This is a story about a time I needed to poo but was forced by events to hold it for a long walk. Post inspired by Unlawfully Wedded Wife.

It June 2005 and I was wandering around Hains Point with a friend1 about to leave for the Peace Corps. It was a lovely night, just the right temperature for walking around and not humid yet. We were talking about whatever and checking out the half buried titan
when I got the idea that maybe I needed to find a bathroom.2 We take the photos that my friend wanted to take and then we proceed walking along the river heading back into the city. About half an hour later, I was in dire straits and my friend asked me if I was ok. I suggested we stop at the Jefferson Memorial and get some nice night photos of it and I would hit the bathroom there. It was pretty close and I figured that was a good cover.

When we got there, I asked a guard for the bathroom and he told me there were closing in five minutes. Not a problem. I had to ride the slowest elevator in the universe down one floor to the gift shop and bathrooms. I hustled over to the door in a struggle to move as fast as possible but without disturbing my bowels any more than necessary. The sight that greeted me upon pushing open the bathroom door will haunt my nightmares forever.

Someone had taken an enormous shit in the middle of the floor. I have seen some major turds in my day, and produced most of them, but this turd still makes me feel inadequate as a man. It was smeared all over the floor, too. I think some lunatic had tried to write something on the floor with his/her enormous pile. There were streaks and swirls that I associate with some form of hieroglyphics, New World or Old, or possibly cuneiform. Could have been cursive. I was shocked into stillness and my eyes meandered across the floor trying to process this rectal rorschact. I have never quite experienced a moment of complete mental stillness. It was the neural blue screen of death.

Then the stench hit me a mere second later like a supernova. The olfactory explosion was so potent I recoiled, rebounded, flew backward like a character in a silly action movie caught in the blastwave of some bomb, arms raised futilely in front of my face, itself expressing a revulsion so deep that cenotes look shallow.3 The scent was almost alive in the way that it chased me out of the gift shop. In less than a second, it had permeated my clothes to the point that my friend noticed it when I finally got back to street level. I said only, "It's not me." I found that now pitied guard and told him that someone had "violated" the bathroom and that I had been completely unable to use it and that I was deeply sorry for him. He said that he'd check it out. A few blocks away from the memorial, I swear I heard a wail of terror and fear echoing through the air.

My friend and I were now in the dead zone. The dead area downtown that closes at 8 pm and in which there are few buses, no cabs and no metro stops. We had a choice, walk three blocks to a 30 to 40 minute metro ride (most of that would be spent waiting) or walk for 30 to 40 minutes to my friend's apartment. We took the latter choice. I was now debating the relative merits of just dumping my load in a bush, but refused that option because I was not out camping.

I was now an hour overdue for my porcelain rendezvous and was hurting. I was sweating from the effort of keeping the iris closed. I was nervous because I knew the coming blowout was likely to permanently disfigure my friend's bathroom. I was still feeling the nauseating effects of the defiled bathroom.

I managed to hold it together and make it to my friend's apartment unsoiled and even managed to let her use the bathroom first. In even dire need, I'm still a gentleman. Besides, it gave me a chance to turn on her stereo really damn loud.4

1 Okay fine, I admit it. She was my girlfriend. Are you happy now? You're MARRIED!?! What the fuck? Wow. What the hell. Fucking everybody I know is married.

2 After years of world travel and eating odd foods, I know that when I get certain feelings I will need a bathroom in 20 minutes, 1 hour, etc and exactly the kind of episode it will be. This is an unebelievably helpful talent when you are driving through eastern Europe or Africa. Anywhere, really.

3 Later cultures would sacrifice virgins down the pit of my expression.

4 I doubt it helped.

Thursday, August 30, 2007

Who Listens to Radio Anymore?

Talk Radio 3WT, 1500 AM and 107.7 FM, will feature a lineup of personalities currently heard on the station: David Burd, Jessica Doyle, "The Tony Kornheiser Show," and Pat Goss - along with established national personalities Neal Boortz, Bill O'Reilly, Glenn Beck, and Stephanie Miller, as well as play-by-play sports.

The station's slogan will be "Left, Right, and Whatever We Want," reflecting 3WT's diverse collection of personalities and opinions.

More like "Right, Right, Right, Left and Whatever We Want". Not that I listened to Washington Post Radio, or any other radio station for that matter, but does the world really need more Boortz, O'Lielly or Beck?

I can't receive any stations in my apartment and I would listen to the NPR stream at work but my bosses have asked me to keep the volume so low that I can't understand it. I'd just get enraged anyway.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Maybe It Was the Spray-On Tan

CARLSON: No, actually. I got that -- my point is -- let me just say --

ABRAMS: Tucker, what did you do, by the way? What did you do when he did that? We got to know.

CARLSON: I went back with someone I knew and grabbed the guy by the -- you know, and grabbed him, and -- and --

ABRAMS: And did what?

CARLSON: Hit him against the stall with his head, actually!

Doesn't count if you are hitting his head against the bathroom stall because you're doing him from behind without the courtesy of a reach around, chundernozzle.

Pardon if this sounds really mean and incidentally insults gay people, but Tucker Carlson is a huge cobag that some nurse needs to change. I wonder if we can find the police report of this alleged incident? Tuck a l'orange claims this happened in high school but since the defendant could be an adult, the records may not be sealed.

Thank you, mdhatter.

Continued Incompetence

I was reminded about this by Kevin Wolf and then followed Blogging New Orleans to this interactive site at the NYTimes.

Look, I can't remember all of my brothers' birthdays, much less my parents', so don't expect me to be Johnny on the Spot about every anniversary of BushCo's fuckups.

Time. Space, Distance, Perspective

CNN says that Republican'ts are busy putting distance between Senator Craig and anything remotely associated with them. In the last year, the remaining unindicted or unarrested Republican'ts have had to distance their reputations from so many other Republican'ts that they must be communicating via some strange transwarp, subdimensional series of pneumatic-nano tubes.1 These corrupt jackasses break the Laws of Newtonian and Quantum physics every time they manage to communicate a coherent sentence to those of us in normal space. Any centon now, these post-human LOL dorks realize that they have lost all concept of our reality due to the unending frozen eons after the heat death of the universe that they will begin thawing out RealDolls in an attempt to poll the last remaining things with any contact to actual humans.2

Image taken from Enterprise Ireland.

1 I couldn't find the really great thread about her being so non-partisan that she drinks thousand dollar bottles of centuries-old red wine with frozen chicken ala king TV dinners or whatever.
2 Yeah, that's a dig, eat it hard.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Bleg? and Finders Keepers versus Cultural History

A friend of mine needs help with her dissertation. She needs people to take a survey about public opinion regarding the use of bones in Archaeology. If you have the time, please help her out by taking the survey. Please only fill out one survey and please be serious, it's only her future on the line.

I was flipping channels on the RSS the other day and I saw something on the Discovery feed about some people finding an estimated $500 Million in silver and gold coins. The discoverers, Odyssey Marine Exploration (OME), claim that the find was in international waters and refer to the wreck as the Black Swan. They are keeping the location secret for obvious reasons. The Spanish government is claiming that the coins must have come from one of their ships sunk some time in the 17th, 18th or 19th centuries. As an anthropology student, I found this situation to be an interesting ethical dilemma. There is a substantial dollar value associated with the find but there is also a substantial historical value. For the sake of argument, we will allow that OME found the wreck in international waters. We will also allow that it is definitely a Spanish ship. International salvage law is a little murky in this situation, if you'll pardon the pun, so let us also assume that international salvage law states that derelicts are the finder's. The UK's Merchant Shipping Act 1995 says that all property remains the property of the original owners. If the wreck were in British waters, I guess this would apply and the wreck would belong to the original owners. These owners are long dead and I don't know if the ownership would transfer down 2-400 years. This point is further muddied because the cargo may have been owned by someone else, the Spanish government for example. We have two sets of regulations that are allowing each side to claim the treasure as their own. OME did all the work in finding the wreck and deserve the fruits of their labor. Spain has a cultural heritage to protect and possible legal protections. The location of the wreck greatly influences the argument. At what point does a cultural heritage override a salvage right? Does twelve miles really matter?

In the US, we have NAGPRA. NAGPRA has been helping Native Americans regain their looted past. All federal agencies and institutions that receive federal funding, like Beloit College, are required to abide by the act. Complying with the act can take years and decades for some collections, simply because they are so damn large. These collections contain a fascinating wealth of information on cultures that the US did everything it could to destroy*. The act allows for a period of study after a repatriation request, as long as the cultural connection can be established. 12 to 18,000 years is a long time and many cultures rose and fell in North America long before Columbus strolled along. Kennewick Man (KM) was found in less than ideal circumstances in Kennewick, Washington and has stirred up an endless controversy with several native nations claiming a cultural connection. There is a lot more to this controversy than that but I am interested in the border between a group's historical and mythological claims and the scientific community's claims. There is a lot to learn from KM because he is so old and so odd, for lack of a better term. I met one of the Army Corps of Engineers curators of KM when I was still in school and she was fascinated by the find and frustrated by the legal wranglings. The early period of human exploration of the New World is largely unknown. An almost complete skeleton can tell an archaeologist a lot about the context of its life,specifically about this period in human history. However, if the Umatilla's can claim that KM is an ancestor, then NAGPRA will require the remains be returned to the tribe. The Umatilla's claim may or may not be valid, I am not a judge nor am I an expert in their history or their legal case, but if it is should the scientists and researchers simply hand over such a valuable find without and adequate period of study? Where does the scientific value of a find override the cultural claims of a people?

* An issue for another time.

Monday, August 27, 2007

Labor Day and the American Worker

I got an e-mail from the AEI about how the American worker is loving work as we approach Labor Day. The entire e-mail is pretty fucking ridiculous.
AEI Visiting Scholar Arthur C. Brooks reports that Americans work more than their counterparts in many developed countries yet take less vacation time, and they appear to be happy about it. Brooks writes: "For most Americans, work is a rock-solid source of life happiness." His two recent articles on happiness and work include “Happy for the Work” and “What Really Buys Happiness?"

I want to find who these people who are happy with taking less vacation time and give them a radical re-education in slacking. What the fuck kind of jackass says to himself, "Hmm, I have some reports I could write instead of going to Barbados for a week in the sun and booze. I love these reports and mail merges so much that I can skip out on all that sand." Somehow, I think it is more along the lines of "SHIT! JESUS CHRIST!!! HOLY FUCKING SPIRIT OF GOD HOW AM I GOING TO PAY FOR THIS FUCKING CAR, MY HOUSE AND MY DAMN KID'S CELL PHONE BILL THIS MONTH?!?! I can't take this fucking vacation that I am about to pay for on my 7th credit card!! Goddam, I better get some more OT in."

I guess that is why on Labor Day we take the whole day to camp out in the office and get some extra reports in while every one else is out enjoying another fucking day off, just so I can get somewhat close to way the fuck behind.

RSS for the win!

Now with stupid internet meme jokes!







Saturday, August 25, 2007

Rules of Engagement

I have rules and guidelines for a lot of stuff in life. These guidelines have been generated over the years by my experiences doing stupid shit. I have three rules for drinking:

Never drink with the military.

Never drink with an eastern European.

Never drink jager.

I can break any one rule as long as I am willing to accept a night that won't be over until sometime after dawn and perhaps a bad hangover. If I break two of these rules, I must expect a night that ends in some form of incarceration. If I break three of these rules, I won't come out of it for days and have been known to redecorate an entire hotel room in a Jackson Pollock fashion with a different medium than paint.

Last night, I broke only one of these rules and ended the night by sleeping on my floor while my guests took my bed. It was almost dawn when we got home. I also left my license and credit card at the club...fuck.

Friday, August 24, 2007

Brew at the Zoo Verdict: Needs New Billing and More Food

In terms of meeting ladies, I would say that the Brew at the Zoo was a bit of a bust, except for the lovely Lisa and Sarah with an H. It was fun talking with them but it was not fun talking to a pretty Australian and hooking her up with pilfered, line-skipped food only to meet her boyfriend. Note to the person who told me it was a singles event: YOU LIE. There were more married couples of all ages than single ladies. I did meet one woman who worked for the WWF1 who did not know that it was a benefit for that organization. That was amusing.2

It felt like only one third of the tents had food and this was pretty poor planning. The lines for the barbecue sandwiches was 40 minutes long and I was not going to waste my time with that. I did make my way to the front of the Magic Hat line twice because I thought their beer was good and they were giving away goofy condoms. I was hungry and the carrot cake3, while good, was not enough to satisfy me. I wanted something hearty to fight the vaporous beer within.

We were apparently not supposed to roam around and look at the empty animal enclosures. Not even the Prairie Dogs were interested in the party.

1 Sadly, not the World Wrestling Foundation.

2 Not amusing? Her friend who blatantly thought I was sketchy.

3 From Open City.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

The Basic Problem With Your Assertion

Stupid Kevin McCullough asserts that homosexuality is a choice and therefore deserves no special legislation. His position is that gay people choose to be gay. They are choosing homosexuality over heterosexuality. This lifestyle choice needs no special protection as it is an active choice and not something like being born black which can be helped with welfare. Kevin's stupid world view is horribly, horribly stupid. If stupid had a smell, you could smell him in Australia.

Kevin is stupid because he has ignored the obvious implication of his stupid assertion about gay being a choice. That implication is this: HETEROSEXUALITY MUST ALSO BE A CHOICE, AS HETEROSEXUALS ARE CHOOSING TO NOT BE GAY. Therefore, we heterosexuals deserve no special legislation either because it is a lifestyle choice.

Kevin McCullough, Stupid Musclehead.

This post inspired by A Girl Like Me. Thanks.

Clif Continues Corroding Conservative Confabulations

Clif rocks your world and you may not even know it. Clif is constantly and concisely on fire. He manages to get under the skin of more conservatives than anyone I know.* His latest win comes from a scuffle-kerfuffle with Musclehead Radio's Kevin McCullough. Kevin responded with a post that does not address Clif's point about the erroneous quotation.

I don't know how Clif and all the other awesome bloggers like the crew at Sadly, No can stand to read the immense volume of crap that they do. I read only the diluted and humored-up from them and the occasional post from wingnuts and my family wants me to stop for my health.

Don't stop, Clif. Don't ever stop.

*Admittedly, I don't know many people.

Monday, August 20, 2007

Needs, Wants and the Road

I am biking more and more these days. I managed to put 68 miles into three excursions last week. I am going to hit 100 miles this week. There is not much to do while biking1 but think about life. Life is pretty much all I think about at any point in the day, but I am not unusual in this activity. The lack of compelling distractions contributes to my mental clarity while traveling. I don't own a car2 so I can delve fairly far into myself while riding the bus or train for hours at a time.3

The last few days I have been thinking about women. The universe tends to throw them my way when I need to be reminded of something. Kim was a government-oriented redhead I met in a bar in Adams Morgan. The line was so good, one of my brothers actually shook my hand. Needless to say, it can never be used again. Kim and I went on four dates over two months which is rather lame but she had international travel assignments and I was unemployed. It might have worked out better between us if I had been employed at one of the many jag-off jobs available in the federal sector. The whole experience reminded me that while coasting on savings was fun and allowed me lots of time to write and meet ladies, it was no kind of life for me.

Leah and I met at a party. I quit my dead-end, low-paying waiting job two weeks later. That job was holding me back and earning me a whole lot of nothing. Two weeks after quitting that job, I got a call from my current employer and never looked back.

Kathleen4 came out of the blue sky and by the time that was over, I knew I had to stop talking a good game and start playing one. I am still working on this one.

The most recent woman in my life, however brief, reminded me that I get what I need and don't need what I want. I need something to help drive me or I stall out and watch endless Law & Order episodes. I need the motivation more than I want her or anyone else. In short, I need an unfulfilled want.

1 Besides curse out the idiots who refuse to obey the rules of the road in my head.

2 Give me a non-polluting electric car and an infrastructure to use it and the road trip is back, baby.

3 Tuning out is a valuable skill when you are broke and have 20 hours to wait in an airport for your connecting flight, as is being able to sleep anywhere in any position.

4 Different one.

Sunday, August 19, 2007

No Second Troy at the 9:30 Club

I do what I can to avoid the 9:30 Club because it uses Ticketmaster but last night No Second Troy was having their big show with the Dreamscape Project, the Reserves and Juniper Lane. NST was the third opening act but they were the band I was there to see. I would have stayed to see Juniper Lane if it weren't for the incessant and irritating chatter by the morons in the crowd.

No Second Troy is best described as radio ready rock. This is by no means an insult, despite the connotations. The music is not complicated but it is not simple, either. The singer, Jeff Wharen, really belts out some surprisingly large vocals, especially on their new album's title track "Narcotic". I liked the way the guitar worked with the keyboard. No Second Troy is the music that I expect to be hearing in college girl's dorm rooms this fall. Incidentally, if any young women want to invite me to see their dorm rooms, my e-mail address is in my profile.

They remind me of the Refreshments without the Mexican influences or a Coldplay that wasn't lame and so deliberately disaffected. No Second Troy is more genuine than anything I have heard in the top 40 in the last 5 years. Check them out.

A final note: I missed most of the Reserves but I feel that any band that breaks out a "You Can Call Me Al" cover medley deserves mention.

Saturday, August 18, 2007


Reading this at Pretentious Bastard. Then this from Cliff Schecter. And this from the Gonzo Muckraker. The Google cache is here.

President Bush can fail in his duty to himself, his country, and his God, by becoming “ex-president” Bush or he can become “President-for-Life” Bush: the conqueror of Iraq, who brings sense to the Congress and sanity to the Supreme Court.

Please let this be a joke.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Bioshock Should Fill the Void

Hell yes, I am going to buy that game. I'll probably even pre-order it. System Shock 2 was so damn brilliant my eyes are still blinking. Bioshock ought to sufficiently rampage through my cortex in such a fashion as to render me incapable of thoughts beyond gathering plasmids and frying my enemies.

"It is my intention to secure two copies of the game, entire - one Collectors' edition, and one exclusively to shove up Roger Ebert's ass. If Bioshock isn't "art," then art is the poorer for it." - Tycho

Amen, Ebert has needed a style enema for some time.

The Dating Guide Prologue

So the Pretentious Bastard, AKA OfficerGleason, and I have decided to help our fellow man. Normally I try to help humankind but in this effort I am speaking solely to the gentleman geeks and the not-so-gentlemanly geeks that want to be gentleman geeks. OfficerGleason and I are writing a dating guide. This may sound rather ludicrous coming from a guy who broke up with a woman because she doesn't believe in global warming, but I am exactly the person you should come to for advice, on this and all other issues. As the title bar says, I am a Genius and thus provide brilliant consultations.

This guide is not going to help you get laid, it is going to help you date. What happens after that is between you and her. The only supplies you need to bring to these lessons are an open mind and a willingness to change.

You may want to reference my credentials which you may view in the past months and years of the archives. They say that practice makes perfect and as a genius I learn from my mistakes, so I have basically learned everything there is to know about dating.

Don't ask me about relationships though, those are fucking dark matter entities as far as I can tell.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Wherein I Scoop CHUD on King of Kong

CHUD has an interview with some of the guys from King of Kong. This is me linking to myself like an arrogant cobag, while acknowledging that no one commented. I think Reviews N Stuff got sent down the wrong tube. It might have something to do with the raid on Ted Stevens' house.

Go read the interview and make an effort to go see the movie. Watch out for the spoiler at the end of the interview. Maybe you should wait until you have seen the movie to read it. Yeah, do that.

UPDATE 3:45 PM on Tuesday: Reviews N Stuff is back up and running! Thanks, dontEATnachos!

Brown Tide Sweeps Virginia Waterways

This is bad news, but what do we expect when we refuse to alter our behavior? We get what we deserve.

Hell, every time it rains in DC the Anacostia and Potomac rivers unleash a brown tide as well, but that is just the raw sewage from the decrepit and stupid DC sewer system. At least our tax obligation is going to be kept low by Bush vetoing a gas tax increase to pay for our nation's highway infrastructure! We wouldn't need this increase at all if we weren't involved in a pointless, futile war in Iraq. We could even afford to fulfill all our promises to the Afghani people, instead of doling out more collateral damage.

Beer? Large Carnivores? Fuck Yeah!

I just bought a ticket to this. I will probably get eaten trying to wrestle my beer back from a lion. Or as my nephew says, a lie-lie. Some things that won't happen at this event: me remaining sober* and me getting any phone numbers**. So, if you live in the area and your wife will let you out of the house or you just want to meet me and be entertained for an evening as I loath all the craigs and trixies, buy a ticket.

*Although it might be funny to say that I am recovering alcoholic and just really love animals.

**Just kidding, of course I will. I am the Genius and quite charming, if I don't say so myself. And I do, quite frequently.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

The Next Best Website Ever


Making Legos Lethal Since Whenever It Was That The Company Started. OK, so my slogan needs work, but the concept and execution are both brilliant. Makes me want to make a diorama of Allied troops engaging enemy soldiers in the woods surrounding Bastogne completely out of Legos.

They even have a SCOPED grenade!! How cool is that? Totally fucking cool.

Friday, August 10, 2007

Since U Been Gone: Not Exactly Making Any Friends

The Pretentious Bastard, who is not as pretentious as he claims, really likes Kelly Clarkson's Since U Been Gone. He likes it so much he played me a video of Ted Leo playing an acoustic version of the song on YouTube.

So, tonight I am sitting in Nanny O'Brien's across the street from the Uptown theater after watching the Potter movie. After having my first mouthful of Guinness, a guy gets up on the stage for his acoustic set promoting his band's CD release show at the 930 Club next Saturday. After playing a couple of standard bar songs, he asked for requests. Someone timidly shouted Freebird and my pal, Jenn, says that she would like to hear someone request Fifty Cent. I turned toward the stage and shout, "SINCE YOU BEEN GONE BY KELLY CLARKSON!"

If you have met me, you know my voice carries. Everyone turns to me and then back to the stage and the guy says, "Alright, well fuck the guy who said Kelly Clarkson. Goddamn Kelly Clarkson." Or something to that effect, it was a little hard to hear with everyone laughing at me. In my head, all I could hear was the Pretentious Bastard laughing his ass off while holding his hand over his mouth.

A couple songs later, the dude said that it was his birthday and that he had EPs for sale for $10. I walked up to the stage holding a twenty dollar bill over my head. People cheered and the band's friends were psyched. I bought two.

When the guitarist/singer and the keyboardist took a break, I stopped on my way to the bathroom to say I was mostly kidding about the Kelly Clarkson request. He apologized for making fun of me. He's got a good sense of humor. At least, I hope he does and that he wasn't startled by the fact that I was a foot taller and 100 pounds heavier. I look meaner than I intend at times.

The band is No Second Troy and I am going to see them next Saturday, despite the fact that I don't like the venue. I'll get over it. I'll probably request 'Since U Been Gone' again.

This Sort of Thing Happens When You're Famous

I am not exactly rhetorical but I will play along for your sake, Mr. North.

Baby Killer Estelle and The Sentiments at Fort Reno

Baby Killer Estelle and The Sentiments did an admirable job and persisted with the show until the rain got too intense. Bad fucking luck that the only decent rain we have in the DC area in three months had to happen tonight.

Baby Killer Estelle is an odd mix of jazz piano and angry, angry music. The pianist, Leo Svirsky, introduced them by saying, "Um, hi. We're Baby Killer Estelle. We are anarchists. This song is about capitalism and fascism." I smirked. The songs feature piano and drums which sounds lamer than it is because Svirsky is a genuine prodigy. The overall sound is solid social commentary of the angry young man that sounds like an odd mix of ballroom, jazz and The Misfits.* When Svirsky starts screaming you could feel something authentic, even if it is the weakest part of the songs. The song that was in Russian was pretty cool and sounded like an bedtime song, but one that you drink. Special praise should be given since they played in the rain. Bravo. Overall, if you are the adventurous person you all should be, go see them. They are touring up into New York and Massachusetts later this month. This is no reflection of their talents, but I giggled at the announcement that they had CDs for sale followed by "Viva Anarchia! Fuck capitalism!"

The Sentiment started off by announcing that this was their last show. The first song turned into their only complete song which was unfortunate because I liked it. The rain restarted with a vengeance and the show had to be canceled. Sucks to be us, I guess. I went over to the stage and asked if they had any CDS. The cute bass player said, "This is our last show!" Well, shit. I still wanted a CD. There are four mp3s available for download of their MySpace page, so you can check those out there. According to DCist, the singer is off to various projects including the Black and White Jacksons while the exasperated bassist will be moving on to another group playing at the Rock and Roll Hotel. I would go to that but I have a non-date and we are going to see the Harry Potter movie. Why yes, I do have a huge L carved into my forehead.

*If I weren't grossly unqualified to write a decent music review this part of the paragraph might be more informative. Perhaps Destroyer is a good reference, but I am not sure as I have only heard two songs by Destroyer.

Thursday, August 09, 2007

And Another Thing

The man whose vision animated my childhood and all of my D&D campaigns for all time speaks the truth:

"Every time I see it, I wish I had taken fifteen or twenty minutes more on [one] scene [or another], but you can’t change it in the can." - Ray Harryhausen on

George Lucas should revoke his bullshit statement about 'taping over' the original 35 mm prints and issue a fully restored high definition version of the Trilogy.

Thirsty Thursday: Time to Take the Tarantula Traipsing

I am going to Fort Reno tonight for the free show. I have never heard any of the acts before now but Thursdays are all about new experiences. So are any other day of the week, too. Get off your ass.

Brandon Butler

The Sentiment

Baby Killer Estelle

I'll post a review after the show.

Wednesday, August 08, 2007

Mommy Bloggers: Boring

I have cruised by some mommy blogs and they are boring. Hell, at guys' night out I have to reign in the dads with their boring stories. Since all but two of us are fathers, one round of stories can last for 3 rounds of drinks. Or they would if we could ever get together for drinks. A quick, funny toddler story is one thing but inane, endless run-ons about some baby sitting in its own crap for 7 paragrpahs? Good lord. Shoot me now.

I find blogs about my friend's kids are slightly more interesting but the one I read is more about the troubles and insecurities she feels as a mother. This is an entirely alien perspective to me. I doubt I'll ever feel safe enough to procreate, much less meet anyone worthy of my Genius Seed TM. If she wasn't my friend and her life weren't so damn interesting, I wouldn't read it. Honestly, mommy bloggers are a subdivision of cat bloggers. Ain't nothing interesting about it unless I can give it a stupid caption.

Tuesday, August 07, 2007

Mix Tapes vs Mix CDs

Honestly? I never made a mix tape. Maybe it is easier to make a CD but so fucking what? Isn't it the thought that counts? That lesson, like so much else I was taught as a child, no longer translates to today. Too bad I am too stubborn to do anything but continue in my own way.

I am sitting in my apartment with a recently fixed but still buggy computer, some Hofbrau Maibock, the Silver Jews album "American Water" and a new pair of boxers.

The thing about Sisyphus, fulsome will probably get all fucking panty twisted for this one, is that Sisyphus won. He fucking won. I get it and maybe other people do, too, but that is fucking immaterial to my situation. It is also irrelevant. So is the materialness of the relevance. How could any revelation ever be material? That is like having your rebirth to the glorious majesty of Christ in a law office. I mean, judaic God is everywhere and all but that is really stretching the limit of credulity, not to mention faith.

Monday, August 06, 2007

Overheard in Wisconsin at Live Earth

"I will support the environment and the green movement and all, but I am not giving up my half hour showers."

See this? Right here.

Look closely.

A little closer.


That's you not getting the point. There is no supporting the solution. There is only actual change and being part of the problem. If you aren't changing your behavior by conserving water, recycling, reusing and reducing, then you aren't doing any fucking good for anyone.

Friday, August 03, 2007

Depths Plumbed, Souls Sated

It is the evening of the last day of the expedition. Tomorrow we begin the trek back to civilization. I have found the elusive Perry's Cherry, albeit of a nature altogether different than the one described by my old colleague in the club. Cigars are best smoked with the discussion of past trophies and conquests.

The porters have loaded the crates and the trucks are fueled. I have learned much and hope to publish soon after our return to the world. It has been a fine expedition with hardship, loss and some small comforts. These experiences remind a man of his essential nature. And that nature is a lonely boozehound desperate to regain some shred of relevance by blasting the shit out of defenseless, caged animals with high-powered firearms.

Yes, indeed, this whole week has been a long set-up for a weak Dick Cheney joke. What the fuck do you want? I'm on vacation, bitches.

Thursday, August 02, 2007

Failures Abound and Spirits Sag, Yet Hope Remains

While trekking to our destination yesterday, we encountered another well-equipped expedition. A large family group of Illinoian travellers was participating in a cartographic survey of the peninsula. My logistical director was acquainted with one of the porters in the other group. They had both attended explorer's university in their youth. I instructed my colleague to reaffirm this friendship and glean any information on the natural phenomenon of the area. We have yet to locate any further varieties of New Glarus, spotted or dappled, or any of the greater or lesser Sprecher's species.

The leader of the cartographic surveyors and I discussed the fascinating wildlife and the trophies I had hoped to triumphantly bring back to the museum, we enjoyed a light juniper beverage liberally spiked with gin and tonic. I expressed my disappointment with the local villagers' porting ability. They are rather weak of spirit. My compatriot feels that these trips are best left to family and then proceeded to describe his rather boring genealogy and the names of his descendants whom he had relegated to baggage and portage duty. The man had many faults but chief among them was a completely insufficient knowledge of firearms. Not everyone I meet is prepared for the difficulties of a life spent forging a solitary path through the wilds with only a team of local porters, a doctor, three nurses, two naturalists, a tracker and three horse thieves.

The logistical directer returned with some new knowledge of our earlier stated destination on the northern and eastern beaches. The region has been decimated by the drought and is no longer a fertile ground for man or animal. The water level has receded to the point that the beaches are covered in a mass of rotten vegetation and decaying fish. I have found the fish in this region to be rather poor in quality on the whole with the notable exception of the walled-eye fish, a curious piscine prevalent in much of the waters inland. Unfortunately, it is not much sport for a true explorer.

Today, we have resigned ourselves to a day of rest as our porters have become exhausted in the unusual heat. I am not normally disposed to such molly-coddling of my guides and muleskinners, but there are local sites in the southern peninsula which I plan to visit, with or without a full bar and ammunition selection.

One note of information that is startling and speaks volumes of the skill of our Doctor Chetworth P. Hunnicobble, none of our gangly local porters have yet fallen ill to the virulent ear ifnections this region has been known for in past travels. I am certain that the constitutions of these people would be barely capable of this trip were it not for the over-tender ministrations of Dr. Hunnicobble.

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

Geologically the Same but Biologically Different

As we travel further north, I notice that the water is clearer. The invasive zebra mussel has cleaned out much of the clutter in the waters of the great lake. On first look, this appears to be a blessing. However, the clarity of the water allows the submerged vegetation to grow at greater depths and this has the unfortunate side effect of increasing the mass of rotting vegetation at water's edge. The smell is quite pungently potent and compares rather unfavorably with the campground toilets of my youth spent in various travel camps in eastern Europe.

The communities have undertaken many temporary measures to combat this vile green menace. Just yesterday, I spotted paddleboats that had been designed specifically for mowing the seagrass. There is not much one can do as the chemistry of the lakes are being changed irrevocably. Such is the folly of the wages of sin or some such reproving proverb.

The beaches remain much as I remember them, aside from the olfactory factors. I built an underwater cairn at a limestone pebbled beach to memorialize certain memories of my youth and more recent events. I visited the establishment which had provided me with many frozen repasts and was satisfied.

Today, we venture further north into my past and memory.