In case that happens to mean anything.
was talking to Jason earlier. He did something random for the weekend and I figured I'd run with that idea.
Found a forum with a bunch of those "do it" jokes and I thought I'd share
Apparently there are some fairly obvious ones that no one has done yet. For instance I have yet to see
Punk rockers do it themselves.
Geeks do in strange ways that no one of normal mind would think of, and sometimes while wearing costumes
Method actors do it under false pretenses
Gamers do it while caffeinated
Quantum physicists do it, in theory (and for that matter, Schrodinger's Cat does it in a box, if he's alive that is)
Bob Barker does it if the price is right
Lawyers do it for 500 dollars an hour
Chuck Norris does it in a way that is totally blown out of proportion by too many people on the Internet I mean seriously Bruce Lee was at least twenty billion times more badass than that brain-dead karate chopping badge wearing motherfucker (see previous post).
Feel free to leave any ones you come up with in the comments if you like.
Also: And let me preface this by saying that it's probably an awful thing to say....
Consider this. In boxing, a punch to the back of the head, just below where the spine meets the skull, is called a rabbit punch. The same punch, if delivered during sex, is called a donkey punch. Since rabbits are more often associated with sex than donkeys, shouldn't the two be reversed?
A Note: Neither Ramblings of an Idle Insomniac nor its host nor its affiliates condone the practices of rabbit/donkey punching. Do not do this at home, in the boxing ring, in your office, in the library, in an alley, in an airplane bathroom, in the car, underneath a waterfall, etc. as it can cause damage to the brain stem and also everyone will know you thereafter to be a jerk. Also the supposed perks to the practice are a myth, unless the person you happen to be having sex/boxing with is Ann Coulter. And dear god do I hope it's the latter.
OK, so I'll catch you all later if you don't hate me now. Peace
9.30.2006
9.27.2006
Morning Notes
I had to change the embed code yet again to the Clinton vid on the post below. It's been taken down from Youtube, and even on Google Video most of the feeds are gone. It should be noted, however, that Faux News didn't kill the feeds that were put up by those who responded favorably to Chris Wallace.
Boston Legal last night. I was apprehensive about the new characters when I first saw them. But now? I think I like them. As much as I didn't need to be reminded about the state of the American League East. And the new dude is going to provide an interesting dynamic, as he's infringing on the territory of Brad Chase and Alan Shore, and his appearance gives hope for the idea that we might see more cooperation between those two.
Oh. And also, Killer Rabbit Productions has put out another sketch. This one rose out of an utterly failed attempt to shoot a script that I wrote, due to the poor excecution of a certain member (who kept bugging me to turn the script in early I might add). We then ran with the theme of him ruining things. It can be found here. I'm not going to embed it because it's somewhat NSFW
Boston Legal last night. I was apprehensive about the new characters when I first saw them. But now? I think I like them. As much as I didn't need to be reminded about the state of the American League East. And the new dude is going to provide an interesting dynamic, as he's infringing on the territory of Brad Chase and Alan Shore, and his appearance gives hope for the idea that we might see more cooperation between those two.
Oh. And also, Killer Rabbit Productions has put out another sketch. This one rose out of an utterly failed attempt to shoot a script that I wrote, due to the poor excecution of a certain member (who kept bugging me to turn the script in early I might add). We then ran with the theme of him ruining things. It can be found here. I'm not going to embed it because it's somewhat NSFW
9.25.2006
Clinton to Fox News: This Shit Will Not Stand
I want to talk for a bit about Bill Clinton.
My views where he is concerned have done a lot of shifting since I first became politically aware at some point during his administration, and they've done so again. When he was in there, I was a fan. I applauded the manner in which he dealt with assholes like Gingrich. I admired his eloquence and intelligence. Later on, after his presidency, I resented the way he changed direction in his second term; I thought he sold out on his values, and perhaps he did. What I always understood is that he just cold got shit done, and it was with that intent that he adapted his stances to changing political climes. But now I look at a President who has no concept of the will of the people, and I have a lot more respect for the man. And then came his interview on Fox News last night. Youtube offers it in two parts
UPDATE!! Fox News had it pulled from Youtube. Wonder why ^_^
Here it is on Google Video, and in case it gets pulled from there I'm going to link y'all to the transcript
If there were more Democrats like Clinton I would still be a Democrat. Now I like Kerry, but he never had it in him to fight back when he was being bullshitted about his war record. He never really tried. He certainly didn't even consider taking the fight to the network intent on smearing him. And had he, he likely would have buckled. Clinton? He skull-fucked Chris Wallace on national tv. Fox commentators looking to do damage control have dismissed it as "finger-wagging." Which is the standard defense against anything Clinton. Unfortunately, this probably won't be the last I have to say this, but let's give it another try. ORAL SEX IS NOT A BIG DEAL. IT'S GREAT AND ALL, BUT IT HAS NEITHER THE POWER NOR RELEVANCE TO DERAIL A SOUND ARGUMENT. This is the same thing that happened over at Cooper's after she explained her policy where that was concerned. Though I can't seem to find that post now that I go looking for it. I guess it didn't make the jump to the domain. Of course you all remember this post, and that was what started it anyways. I loved that thread. There's a part of my brain that lights up whenever some ignorant motherfucker shows his face and starts spewing.
Speaking of which, I find the word "motherfucker" fascinating in its duality. On face value the literal meaning is rather specific, but let's take a look at it a bit. When it's used in the way I just used it, as an insult, it implies that the person in question was unable to overcome Oedipus. But what of it's non-pejorative use? For instance, "Bad Motherfucker." In that case, simply put, the implication is that the subject brings carnal delight to other mothers. And while the subject of the pejorative usage of the word need only commit the implied lewd act once to earn his stain, the badge of honor that is the celebratory usage must be earned through repeated and consistant efforts.
Where was I?
Ah yes. Damage control. The other way that it has been spun is that Clinton flew off the handle; that he was redfaced and fire-eyed. I'm going to go on the record here. If a politician doesn't have fire in his eyes he ought to be defenestrated and replaced with someone who gives a fuck, no matter what his affiliation. The scarecrow will always beat the lion and the tinman in an election. That's what got us where we are now. And that shit needs to stop.
All that you touch
All that you see
All that you taste
All you feel.
All that you love
All that you hate
All you distrust
All you save.
All that you give
All that you deal
All that you buy,
beg, borrow or steal.
All you create
All you destroy
All that you do
All that you say.
All that you eat
And everyone you meet
All that you slight
And everyone you fight.
All that is now
All that is gone
All that's to come
and everything under the sun is in tune
but the sun is eclipsed by the moon.
My views where he is concerned have done a lot of shifting since I first became politically aware at some point during his administration, and they've done so again. When he was in there, I was a fan. I applauded the manner in which he dealt with assholes like Gingrich. I admired his eloquence and intelligence. Later on, after his presidency, I resented the way he changed direction in his second term; I thought he sold out on his values, and perhaps he did. What I always understood is that he just cold got shit done, and it was with that intent that he adapted his stances to changing political climes. But now I look at a President who has no concept of the will of the people, and I have a lot more respect for the man. And then came his interview on Fox News last night. Youtube offers it in two parts
UPDATE!! Fox News had it pulled from Youtube. Wonder why ^_^
Here it is on Google Video, and in case it gets pulled from there I'm going to link y'all to the transcript
If there were more Democrats like Clinton I would still be a Democrat. Now I like Kerry, but he never had it in him to fight back when he was being bullshitted about his war record. He never really tried. He certainly didn't even consider taking the fight to the network intent on smearing him. And had he, he likely would have buckled. Clinton? He skull-fucked Chris Wallace on national tv. Fox commentators looking to do damage control have dismissed it as "finger-wagging." Which is the standard defense against anything Clinton. Unfortunately, this probably won't be the last I have to say this, but let's give it another try. ORAL SEX IS NOT A BIG DEAL. IT'S GREAT AND ALL, BUT IT HAS NEITHER THE POWER NOR RELEVANCE TO DERAIL A SOUND ARGUMENT. This is the same thing that happened over at Cooper's after she explained her policy where that was concerned. Though I can't seem to find that post now that I go looking for it. I guess it didn't make the jump to the domain. Of course you all remember this post, and that was what started it anyways. I loved that thread. There's a part of my brain that lights up whenever some ignorant motherfucker shows his face and starts spewing.
Speaking of which, I find the word "motherfucker" fascinating in its duality. On face value the literal meaning is rather specific, but let's take a look at it a bit. When it's used in the way I just used it, as an insult, it implies that the person in question was unable to overcome Oedipus. But what of it's non-pejorative use? For instance, "Bad Motherfucker." In that case, simply put, the implication is that the subject brings carnal delight to other mothers. And while the subject of the pejorative usage of the word need only commit the implied lewd act once to earn his stain, the badge of honor that is the celebratory usage must be earned through repeated and consistant efforts.
Where was I?
Ah yes. Damage control. The other way that it has been spun is that Clinton flew off the handle; that he was redfaced and fire-eyed. I'm going to go on the record here. If a politician doesn't have fire in his eyes he ought to be defenestrated and replaced with someone who gives a fuck, no matter what his affiliation. The scarecrow will always beat the lion and the tinman in an election. That's what got us where we are now. And that shit needs to stop.
All that you touch
All that you see
All that you taste
All you feel.
All that you love
All that you hate
All you distrust
All you save.
All that you give
All that you deal
All that you buy,
beg, borrow or steal.
All you create
All you destroy
All that you do
All that you say.
All that you eat
And everyone you meet
All that you slight
And everyone you fight.
All that is now
All that is gone
All that's to come
and everything under the sun is in tune
but the sun is eclipsed by the moon.
9.20.2006
There will not be a new post here tonight, but I'll come up with something on the morrow I suspect. I regret not having put up a post about Talk Like a Pirate Day, which fell on September the nineteenth.
The season premeir of Boston Legal was solid, though at times the pacing was perhaps a bit like Brad Chase's conversational demeanor. I will say some words more on this matter, as can be expected. In fact don't be surprised if you see commentary here in some form on each episode of the coming season.
Anyways I direct you to Courting Destiny. Would it not get redundant I would do so every day but there is a reason in particular for it now. There are some words there about me, followed by several words that I wrote.
Ok so I guess I lied this is pretty much a new post. But it's mostly boiler plate. The substance for now is housed elsewhere, so go to it, if that is the sort of thing you'd be liable to do.
The season premeir of Boston Legal was solid, though at times the pacing was perhaps a bit like Brad Chase's conversational demeanor. I will say some words more on this matter, as can be expected. In fact don't be surprised if you see commentary here in some form on each episode of the coming season.
Anyways I direct you to Courting Destiny. Would it not get redundant I would do so every day but there is a reason in particular for it now. There are some words there about me, followed by several words that I wrote.
Ok so I guess I lied this is pretty much a new post. But it's mostly boiler plate. The substance for now is housed elsewhere, so go to it, if that is the sort of thing you'd be liable to do.
9.15.2006
Cruelty is a Rhythm Instrument
I have multiple times in this space recorded my love for The Mars Volta. Cedric's high pitched spirit-piercing vocals, Omar's unique and chaotic guitar riffs and masterful arrangements... and the lyrics... Sweet fuck do they have some trippy lyrics. Each song on each one of their albums has a line that will make you go woah if you are at all susceptable to such urges.
So when their new album came out, of course I listened to it. And I was a bit anxious. See, the standard for judging an artist; perhaps the defining career accomplishment, is to produce three truly Great Albums. According to my friend Steve, the only one to exceed this was Beethoven, who produced nine Great "albums." Seeing as the first compact discs were designed to be able to hold the Ninth and no more, I think it's safe to call it an album.
In any case, I regard Deloused in the Comatorium and Frances the Mute as master works. This places high expectations on the third album, though it'd been said in the year between the album's announcement and release that "there's no goddamned way that this one will be as good as the other two." Please note that the exact thing was said about Frances the Mute. Regrettably this time the sentiment proved true, but don't let that dissuade you. If you like The Mars Volta, Amputechture is worth several listens and a slot in your cd shelf/wallet/ipod/hard drive. It's a great (lowercase g now) listen, and it has all of the lyrical brilliance, all of the fantastic instrumentation and arrangement, and all of the trippy use of effects. In fact there's only one thing it lacks, and that's those powerful, gripping vocal parts that hit you like a sledgehammer loaded into a cannon overcharged with a double dose of gunpowder. for instance like
You should have seen
The curse that flew right by you
Page of concrete
Sting walks crutch and hobble sway
Auto de fae
A capillary hint of red
Only this manupod crescent in shape has escaped
or
Exoskeletal juncture at the railroad delay
Exoskeletal juncture at the railroad delay
It's because this is...
from Deloused or
L'Via
Hija de Miranda,
Tu Apellido se cambió
L'Via
Sin ojos me quieres dar
Una historia sin mi madre
Sólo tengo que decirte
El dolor de noche dice
Sólo se quedo el vestido
Le lavé la sangre
or
No there’s no light
In the darkest of your furthest reaches
No there’s no light
In the darkest of your furthest reaches
or
Oh lord
Said I’m, Said I’m, Said I’m
Said I’m bloodshot for sure
Pale runs the ghost
Swollen on the shore
Or all of Cygnius... Vismund Cygnius
from Frances the Mute. Please note these aren't necessarily the most shining examples of lyrical content, and unless you've heard the albums they will mean little to you. They're a sampling and a less than all-encompassing one at that of exceptional vocal moments in the albums. Sadly in Amputechture the only such moment is
Come on and give it to me
Come on and die
In your viscera eyes
Cut the lights
Close the blinds
Lend me your comfort
Control by your sight
Which isn't to say that the rest of the vocals aren't tremendous. They are. This is just the only example of the vocal punch that I'd come to know and love from previous efforts.
The record marks two distinct firsts for Volta. For one, it's the first not to have an overarching plot, though there is a pervasive narrative voice, if that makes any sense. Cedric had this to say in regards to that:
"This album's a commentary about the fear of God instead of the love of God, which goes hand-in-hand with Catholicism...To me, religion is the reason there is so much conflict in this world, and I think it's just so unnecessary to believe in this blue-eyed, white-bearded, white-haired God. Amputechture is my personal way of describing enlightenment, or just the celebration of this person who is a shaman and not a crazy person. It's about the pineal gland and how it has certain elements that mimic a DMT experience, and how we can come up with cures for cancer and AIDS if we're more in tune with what's going on in the rainforest."
Those who know me will know that such a message meets me on favorable terms, and I invite it in for a cup of coffee.
Furthermore, it's the first to feature a rhythm guitar, provided with proficience by John Fruiscante of the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Both were well recieved, and in many ways evoked the better parts of At the Drive In.
As always, electronic effects and horns are used masterfully.
In short, listen to this album. Seriously. I know it's going to be in my rotation of background music for a while. Cedric and Omar haven't solidified themselves as legends but it's early yet and it shouldn't put a damper on a solid and enjoyable album.
So when their new album came out, of course I listened to it. And I was a bit anxious. See, the standard for judging an artist; perhaps the defining career accomplishment, is to produce three truly Great Albums. According to my friend Steve, the only one to exceed this was Beethoven, who produced nine Great "albums." Seeing as the first compact discs were designed to be able to hold the Ninth and no more, I think it's safe to call it an album.
In any case, I regard Deloused in the Comatorium and Frances the Mute as master works. This places high expectations on the third album, though it'd been said in the year between the album's announcement and release that "there's no goddamned way that this one will be as good as the other two." Please note that the exact thing was said about Frances the Mute. Regrettably this time the sentiment proved true, but don't let that dissuade you. If you like The Mars Volta, Amputechture is worth several listens and a slot in your cd shelf/wallet/ipod/hard drive. It's a great (lowercase g now) listen, and it has all of the lyrical brilliance, all of the fantastic instrumentation and arrangement, and all of the trippy use of effects. In fact there's only one thing it lacks, and that's those powerful, gripping vocal parts that hit you like a sledgehammer loaded into a cannon overcharged with a double dose of gunpowder. for instance like
You should have seen
The curse that flew right by you
Page of concrete
Sting walks crutch and hobble sway
Auto de fae
A capillary hint of red
Only this manupod crescent in shape has escaped
or
Exoskeletal juncture at the railroad delay
Exoskeletal juncture at the railroad delay
It's because this is...
from Deloused or
L'Via
Hija de Miranda,
Tu Apellido se cambió
L'Via
Sin ojos me quieres dar
Una historia sin mi madre
Sólo tengo que decirte
El dolor de noche dice
Sólo se quedo el vestido
Le lavé la sangre
or
No there’s no light
In the darkest of your furthest reaches
No there’s no light
In the darkest of your furthest reaches
or
Oh lord
Said I’m, Said I’m, Said I’m
Said I’m bloodshot for sure
Pale runs the ghost
Swollen on the shore
Or all of Cygnius... Vismund Cygnius
from Frances the Mute. Please note these aren't necessarily the most shining examples of lyrical content, and unless you've heard the albums they will mean little to you. They're a sampling and a less than all-encompassing one at that of exceptional vocal moments in the albums. Sadly in Amputechture the only such moment is
Come on and give it to me
Come on and die
In your viscera eyes
Cut the lights
Close the blinds
Lend me your comfort
Control by your sight
Which isn't to say that the rest of the vocals aren't tremendous. They are. This is just the only example of the vocal punch that I'd come to know and love from previous efforts.
The record marks two distinct firsts for Volta. For one, it's the first not to have an overarching plot, though there is a pervasive narrative voice, if that makes any sense. Cedric had this to say in regards to that:
"This album's a commentary about the fear of God instead of the love of God, which goes hand-in-hand with Catholicism...To me, religion is the reason there is so much conflict in this world, and I think it's just so unnecessary to believe in this blue-eyed, white-bearded, white-haired God. Amputechture is my personal way of describing enlightenment, or just the celebration of this person who is a shaman and not a crazy person. It's about the pineal gland and how it has certain elements that mimic a DMT experience, and how we can come up with cures for cancer and AIDS if we're more in tune with what's going on in the rainforest."
Those who know me will know that such a message meets me on favorable terms, and I invite it in for a cup of coffee.
Furthermore, it's the first to feature a rhythm guitar, provided with proficience by John Fruiscante of the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Both were well recieved, and in many ways evoked the better parts of At the Drive In.
As always, electronic effects and horns are used masterfully.
In short, listen to this album. Seriously. I know it's going to be in my rotation of background music for a while. Cedric and Omar haven't solidified themselves as legends but it's early yet and it shouldn't put a damper on a solid and enjoyable album.
9.13.2006
Ho-lee Shit
You know that feeling you get when you're tracking down a fly ball in center field and you've gotten to it when all of a sudden your glove, for no reason that you can immedeately discern, decides to explode, leaving you to try and catch it barehanded in your throwing hand, wincing from the pain in your glove hand, which is now covered in second degree burns? Happened twice to me today. Let me explain.
I've been a Blues Traveler fan for the past 10 years. I know most of their songs by heart. Well, vocally at least. Which was why yesterday I started searching the internet for guitar tabs to their songs. So one of the songs I looked for; one of my favorite songs, was All for You.
Finally I figured out,
But it took a long long time
Now there's a turnabout,
Maybe cause I'm tryin'
There's been times, I'm so confused
Down my road, will it lead to you?
Just can't turn and walk away
It's hard to say what it is I see in you
Wonder if I'll always be with you
Words can't say it, I can't do
Enough to prove, it's all for you
And I'd thought I seen it all,
Cause it's been a long long time
Oh bothered that we'll trip and fall,
Wonderin' if I'm alive
There's been times, I'm so confused
Down my road, will it lead to you?
I just can't turn, you walk away
Its hard to say what it is I see in you
Wonder if I'll always be with you
Words can't say, and I can't do
Enough to prove it's all for you
Rain comes pourin' down,
Fallin' from blue skies
Words give out a sound,
comin' from your eyes
Hard to say
Hard to say, it's all for you
Love that song. So I looked it up, and found the chords. But I wasn't sure if maybe it had some fill-ins between chords or the like because such is often missed by those sites. So I did another search and saw that one of the sites was marked Sister Hazel. In fact a number of them were. So naturally I thought "huh. I guess Sister Hazel did a cover. I should check that out." So I found the album it was on; a 1997 release. Nowhere did it say that it was a Blues Traveler song. So I started going through Blues Traveler albums. I'd been under the impression that it was on Four, but I was mistaken. So I searched all the albums before 97. Wasn't on any of them. I was intrigued. So the Blues Traveler version was the cover. Then I looked through the rest of them to find that none of them had it. Blues Traveler never recorded that song. I'D BEEN LISTENING TO A SISTER HAZEL SONG FOR 9 FUCKING YEARS THINKING IT WAS BLUES TRAVELER. I'D NEVER FUCKING HEARD OF SISTER HAZEL.
After I got over the initial culture shock I settled down and realized that this only changed two things. One, I would never again go to a Blues Traveler show expecting to hear that song. Two, Apparently there's another jam band out there that I really like and I should go explore that possibility. Yes. I like jam bands. Yes. My two favorite current bands are jam bands. Go ahead and draw conclusions if you must.
The other realization? That for a significant portion of my childhood I began my day with the creation of a deranged, sick twisted bastard who if by any chance happened to fall through a time warp and was anywhere near my vicinity I would punch him in the fucking throat. I Don't think I ever want to see a goddamned Corn Flake again.
Also, though the stakes were markedly lower for this one, I've come to the conclusion that I should probably never open a hotel. John Cleese's character in Fawlty Towers? Almost certainly the sort of hotel manager I'd be. Except I'd almost certainly go belly up in less than 12 episodes.
I've been a Blues Traveler fan for the past 10 years. I know most of their songs by heart. Well, vocally at least. Which was why yesterday I started searching the internet for guitar tabs to their songs. So one of the songs I looked for; one of my favorite songs, was All for You.
Finally I figured out,
But it took a long long time
Now there's a turnabout,
Maybe cause I'm tryin'
There's been times, I'm so confused
Down my road, will it lead to you?
Just can't turn and walk away
It's hard to say what it is I see in you
Wonder if I'll always be with you
Words can't say it, I can't do
Enough to prove, it's all for you
And I'd thought I seen it all,
Cause it's been a long long time
Oh bothered that we'll trip and fall,
Wonderin' if I'm alive
There's been times, I'm so confused
Down my road, will it lead to you?
I just can't turn, you walk away
Its hard to say what it is I see in you
Wonder if I'll always be with you
Words can't say, and I can't do
Enough to prove it's all for you
Rain comes pourin' down,
Fallin' from blue skies
Words give out a sound,
comin' from your eyes
Hard to say
Hard to say, it's all for you
Love that song. So I looked it up, and found the chords. But I wasn't sure if maybe it had some fill-ins between chords or the like because such is often missed by those sites. So I did another search and saw that one of the sites was marked Sister Hazel. In fact a number of them were. So naturally I thought "huh. I guess Sister Hazel did a cover. I should check that out." So I found the album it was on; a 1997 release. Nowhere did it say that it was a Blues Traveler song. So I started going through Blues Traveler albums. I'd been under the impression that it was on Four, but I was mistaken. So I searched all the albums before 97. Wasn't on any of them. I was intrigued. So the Blues Traveler version was the cover. Then I looked through the rest of them to find that none of them had it. Blues Traveler never recorded that song. I'D BEEN LISTENING TO A SISTER HAZEL SONG FOR 9 FUCKING YEARS THINKING IT WAS BLUES TRAVELER. I'D NEVER FUCKING HEARD OF SISTER HAZEL.
After I got over the initial culture shock I settled down and realized that this only changed two things. One, I would never again go to a Blues Traveler show expecting to hear that song. Two, Apparently there's another jam band out there that I really like and I should go explore that possibility. Yes. I like jam bands. Yes. My two favorite current bands are jam bands. Go ahead and draw conclusions if you must.
The other realization? That for a significant portion of my childhood I began my day with the creation of a deranged, sick twisted bastard who if by any chance happened to fall through a time warp and was anywhere near my vicinity I would punch him in the fucking throat. I Don't think I ever want to see a goddamned Corn Flake again.
Also, though the stakes were markedly lower for this one, I've come to the conclusion that I should probably never open a hotel. John Cleese's character in Fawlty Towers? Almost certainly the sort of hotel manager I'd be. Except I'd almost certainly go belly up in less than 12 episodes.
9.11.2006
9/11
I'd have a lot more reverence for that phrase if it wasn't so often used as a justification. An excuse for the authoritarian stone fuck that has been the function of government these past five years. Imagine the dishonor to anyone who lost life, limb, or loved ones five years ago today, to have the tragedy that befell them used in such a manner. Three thousand people lost their lives that day, and this nation has shamed them all; especially those who died in heroism.
The patriotism that rose in the wake of the attacks was genuine for some, or in fact most, I'm sure. But I apologize that it felt hollow for me from the beginning. United We Stand became a buzz word. The flag became fashion sense.
Let me illustrate for you the sight that summed it all up for me. I'm sure I wasn't the only one to witness it. A pickup truck on the highway, going 70 miles an hour. In the bed is an apparatus from which a full-sized American flag is flying. And the force of the wind tears it to tatters.
The events of September 11, 2001 were a terrible human tragedy. And to allow what has happened since then as a result to obscure that in our thoughts is to do a great disservice to the memory of those who fell to them. If the phrase "9/11" has become a buzz word then perhaps we ought to discard it for their sake. We scarcely need it to remember them.
I'd have a lot more reverence for that phrase if it wasn't so often used as a justification. An excuse for the authoritarian stone fuck that has been the function of government these past five years. Imagine the dishonor to anyone who lost life, limb, or loved ones five years ago today, to have the tragedy that befell them used in such a manner. Three thousand people lost their lives that day, and this nation has shamed them all; especially those who died in heroism.
The patriotism that rose in the wake of the attacks was genuine for some, or in fact most, I'm sure. But I apologize that it felt hollow for me from the beginning. United We Stand became a buzz word. The flag became fashion sense.
Let me illustrate for you the sight that summed it all up for me. I'm sure I wasn't the only one to witness it. A pickup truck on the highway, going 70 miles an hour. In the bed is an apparatus from which a full-sized American flag is flying. And the force of the wind tears it to tatters.
The events of September 11, 2001 were a terrible human tragedy. And to allow what has happened since then as a result to obscure that in our thoughts is to do a great disservice to the memory of those who fell to them. If the phrase "9/11" has become a buzz word then perhaps we ought to discard it for their sake. We scarcely need it to remember them.
9.10.2006
I hope you all are around
Let the record show: If I am posting at 9 o'clock in the morning on a Sunday, there is a damned good reason for it. Our favorite rockstar diva has something to tell all of us so by all means go and hear what she has to say. I'm not giving it away here just yet. Congrats and much love, Shayna.
9.08.2006
Vindictive Coincidence
So last night I helped my friend Josh set up his blog, RPG Nazi. Or rather, I set it up; a template more elaborate than mine in fact. And I taught him how to use an html tag that I'd been meaning to use here but never have
Yeah I doubt many here will find it within their tastes. And in fact I might not even be mentioning it if not for running into this
RK Milholland for the win
Yeah I doubt many here will find it within their tastes. And in fact I might not even be mentioning it if not for running into this
RK Milholland for the win
9.06.2006
I don't know why...
A friend of mine introduced me to her guitar the other day. Those who share at least some of my eccentricities do not merely show people our instruments. We introduce them, because they have names and transcend the station of the inanimate objects that . I have introduced you to my dear Ophelia in this space. You haven't met Louis, my trumpet. But I digress. I got to meet a pink single-humbucker guitar in the shape of an SG by the name of Sydney. Named of course for Syd Barret, who is/was even dearer to my friends heart than mine. But the name had to be Sydney. Guitars are, of course, female, despite what one may say of the necks as a phallic symbol. Disregard that; it's a red herring. Just look at those curves
And also regard the tenderness with one must treat a guitar. Even those who thrash about with it must have supple fingers.
In case it actually needs to be said, guitars exude sexuality in exactly the way that Cooper was accused of doing so long ago. This, and the unmistakable female identity of the guitar is what will make any possessor of good sense and gynophilia drool out most of their body's water content at the sight of a female guitarist, and the rest of it if she proves deft in its arts. The ability to absorb (or as is pertinent here, re-absorb) moisture through the skin is what keeps the denizens of coffeehouse open mics alive. At one such event I witnessed an Irish girl playing the guitar and singing sweetly in her accent. I'd have surely made a point of getting her number had my brain been in a functioning state afterwards.
One who is a habitual namer can hardly resist the obvious impulse to anthropomorphize. It's been done in reference to a guitar before
I look at you all; see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps
I look at the floor and I see it need sweeping
Still my guitar gently weeps
I found myself wondering what it must feel like to be a guitar. If George Harrison's guitar (and Pia I'm sure will note, Eric Clapton's as it was his guitar that graced the studio recording of the song on the White Album) wept, what does that say for the others?
I don't know why nobody told you
how to unfold you love
I don't know how someone controlled you
they bought and sold you
Do they posses some perspective that tunes them in to the sorrows of the world? Surely when their voices ring out it is oft the essence of those sorrows that is emitted. But does it come from the instrument or the musician?
I look at the world and I notice it's turning
While my guitar gently weeps
With every mistake we must surely be learning
Still my guitar gently weeps
What of Ophelia? While I try give her as much attention as I can, she still spends much of her existence sitting on her stand, in wait. And how would it be to be on the other side of what does occur when we are together? I try to draw from her the sweet melodies that she was born to let forth. I strive to make her voice erupt in its utmost beauty as I caress her neck, hold her body close to mine... But my ministrations are inexpert. And I can only imagine her frustration--she who has screamed with delight in the sensation of more masterful fingers
I don't know how you were diverted
you were perverted too
I don't know how you were inverted
no one alerted you
Were she not dependant on me for her voice to be audible I have no doubt she'd tell me what I needed to do to satisfy the desires that most certainly build in her as she sits awaiting my hands. But alas, such inability is her curse, and I share in it. Though if she could find her voice on her own would I be of any use?
I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps
I look at you all
Still my guitar gently weeps
She yearns for more artful manipulation, but knows that the path will not be traveled hastily. I want to satisfy her, but no matter how much I give she will always want more; deserve more.
If you'll excuse me...
And also regard the tenderness with one must treat a guitar. Even those who thrash about with it must have supple fingers.In case it actually needs to be said, guitars exude sexuality in exactly the way that Cooper was accused of doing so long ago. This, and the unmistakable female identity of the guitar is what will make any possessor of good sense and gynophilia drool out most of their body's water content at the sight of a female guitarist, and the rest of it if she proves deft in its arts. The ability to absorb (or as is pertinent here, re-absorb) moisture through the skin is what keeps the denizens of coffeehouse open mics alive. At one such event I witnessed an Irish girl playing the guitar and singing sweetly in her accent. I'd have surely made a point of getting her number had my brain been in a functioning state afterwards.
One who is a habitual namer can hardly resist the obvious impulse to anthropomorphize. It's been done in reference to a guitar before
I look at you all; see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps
I look at the floor and I see it need sweeping
Still my guitar gently weeps
I found myself wondering what it must feel like to be a guitar. If George Harrison's guitar (and Pia I'm sure will note, Eric Clapton's as it was his guitar that graced the studio recording of the song on the White Album) wept, what does that say for the others?
I don't know why nobody told you
how to unfold you love
I don't know how someone controlled you
they bought and sold you
Do they posses some perspective that tunes them in to the sorrows of the world? Surely when their voices ring out it is oft the essence of those sorrows that is emitted. But does it come from the instrument or the musician?
I look at the world and I notice it's turning
While my guitar gently weeps
With every mistake we must surely be learning
Still my guitar gently weeps
What of Ophelia? While I try give her as much attention as I can, she still spends much of her existence sitting on her stand, in wait. And how would it be to be on the other side of what does occur when we are together? I try to draw from her the sweet melodies that she was born to let forth. I strive to make her voice erupt in its utmost beauty as I caress her neck, hold her body close to mine... But my ministrations are inexpert. And I can only imagine her frustration--she who has screamed with delight in the sensation of more masterful fingers
I don't know how you were diverted
you were perverted too
I don't know how you were inverted
no one alerted you
Were she not dependant on me for her voice to be audible I have no doubt she'd tell me what I needed to do to satisfy the desires that most certainly build in her as she sits awaiting my hands. But alas, such inability is her curse, and I share in it. Though if she could find her voice on her own would I be of any use?
I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps
I look at you all
Still my guitar gently weeps
She yearns for more artful manipulation, but knows that the path will not be traveled hastily. I want to satisfy her, but no matter how much I give she will always want more; deserve more.
If you'll excuse me...
9.04.2006
Yeah I'm still here
Ever fall into one of those moods where absolutely nothing interests you? When you're not quite sure what you're doing awake? And I don't mean in an "at this hour" sort of way but yeah it is late. For some reason those have been striking me lately for like an hour or so at a time and my mind is utterly useless for the duration.
This is going to sound like a complete fucking cop-out but that's what I've felt like the last few times I've sat down with the intent to blog.
My travel in the blogodrome has been less than consistant of late and I just wanted to put it out there that if there are people who are wondering why I haven't commented it's because... well I don't know. I'm in a weird sort of a state. Well I guess being me is a weird sort of a state but you know what I mean.
Steve Irwin died today. To be honest I never gave half a shit about him while he was alive. I thought he was annoying and I hated hearing so many goddamned halfass attempts to imitate him. And yet it was sad to hear that he was gone. He was a man who made his living poking a hornets nest. He was going to be stung eventually. But that doesn't mean anyone was ready for it. Stingray barb got him through the chest. There are worse ways to go, but I'd certainly pass on that one.
Got a hold of the latest Bob Dylan album. For some reason I loved it when the lyrics were in front of me but wasn't as crazy about it afterwards without them. The thing is, it's not fair to compare this to a younger Bob Dylan, who could pour his entire being into the microphone and his guitar for 6 minutes at a time. It's a more resigned Dylan. The album is called Modern Times, and seems to be about how he's dealing with them. Having listened to his previous two albums I'd say that he's been making better use of the changes in his voice as he ages. With the exception of a couple of bluesy tracks the songs are all mellow and somber. As for the lyrics, this man is still Bob Dylan, though to note I haven't noticed any of his "holy shit what the fuck" turns of phrase like "the sun ain't yellow, it's chicken," or "money doesn't talk it swears." That having been said the album is extremely poetic, and each song on it is worth examination. In particular, "Working Man's Blues #2" brought a tear to my eye, and "Ain't Talkin'" is likely the spookiest thing he ever wrote; perhaps an homage to Johnny Cash. Modern Times is absolutely effective I believe at communicating what one would think to be the current state of mind of American history's greatest songwriter. And even if it didn't have a single song worthy of my regular playlist it would be worthwhile just as a means of checking up on him. Dylan was an important part of my upbringing; his music has for me and many others I can be assured been riveting and thought-provoking and evokative since first I was introduced to it. I have no doubt that his influence can be found in everything I've written, poetic or otherwise. So I'll continue to listen even when it becomes akin to a visit to a senile old relative. But that's not what this is. It may not become an essential part of his legend, but it speaks to me in a way unique from the rest of his work. It comes with my full reccomendation, with the only qualification being that one shouldn't go into it expecting another Highway 61 Revisited or Blonde on Blonde. It's probably his best album since Desire, though. Play this one at night, with the lights out.
This is going to sound like a complete fucking cop-out but that's what I've felt like the last few times I've sat down with the intent to blog.
My travel in the blogodrome has been less than consistant of late and I just wanted to put it out there that if there are people who are wondering why I haven't commented it's because... well I don't know. I'm in a weird sort of a state. Well I guess being me is a weird sort of a state but you know what I mean.
Steve Irwin died today. To be honest I never gave half a shit about him while he was alive. I thought he was annoying and I hated hearing so many goddamned halfass attempts to imitate him. And yet it was sad to hear that he was gone. He was a man who made his living poking a hornets nest. He was going to be stung eventually. But that doesn't mean anyone was ready for it. Stingray barb got him through the chest. There are worse ways to go, but I'd certainly pass on that one.
Got a hold of the latest Bob Dylan album. For some reason I loved it when the lyrics were in front of me but wasn't as crazy about it afterwards without them. The thing is, it's not fair to compare this to a younger Bob Dylan, who could pour his entire being into the microphone and his guitar for 6 minutes at a time. It's a more resigned Dylan. The album is called Modern Times, and seems to be about how he's dealing with them. Having listened to his previous two albums I'd say that he's been making better use of the changes in his voice as he ages. With the exception of a couple of bluesy tracks the songs are all mellow and somber. As for the lyrics, this man is still Bob Dylan, though to note I haven't noticed any of his "holy shit what the fuck" turns of phrase like "the sun ain't yellow, it's chicken," or "money doesn't talk it swears." That having been said the album is extremely poetic, and each song on it is worth examination. In particular, "Working Man's Blues #2" brought a tear to my eye, and "Ain't Talkin'" is likely the spookiest thing he ever wrote; perhaps an homage to Johnny Cash. Modern Times is absolutely effective I believe at communicating what one would think to be the current state of mind of American history's greatest songwriter. And even if it didn't have a single song worthy of my regular playlist it would be worthwhile just as a means of checking up on him. Dylan was an important part of my upbringing; his music has for me and many others I can be assured been riveting and thought-provoking and evokative since first I was introduced to it. I have no doubt that his influence can be found in everything I've written, poetic or otherwise. So I'll continue to listen even when it becomes akin to a visit to a senile old relative. But that's not what this is. It may not become an essential part of his legend, but it speaks to me in a way unique from the rest of his work. It comes with my full reccomendation, with the only qualification being that one shouldn't go into it expecting another Highway 61 Revisited or Blonde on Blonde. It's probably his best album since Desire, though. Play this one at night, with the lights out.
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