2/29/2004
The Cliche Cops
Tonight, I had for the third time the immense pleasure of seeing the Super Furry Animals, and they were, predictably, quite awesome. They've been horribly underrepresented in my Imperial Mix CDs, a crime I will be working to rectify shortly. Tonight was the last night of their current North American tour, but they visit the US, I mean, the People's Democratic Republic of Ross, really often and I order all of my subjects to go see them ASAP. One of the many benefits of living in a city like LA is that 99% of all bands always come to play here, regardless of how big they are. I say 99%, because for some goddamned reason, bands I happen to worship almost never come here. So Zero 7, Momus, and Scott Walker*, at least try visiting sunny LA sometime before I'm either dead or living somewhere else.
But I don't really want to talk about that. What I do want to talk about is the semi-retarded dildo who fired up a doobie while waiting in line to buy tickets for tonight's show. I have to wonder if these people actually think they're being daring or edgy because they can't go 4 hours without making everyone around them smell like a String Cheese incident concert. I mean, lighting up a joint at a concert? People still do that? Did you get your personality at the 99 cent store? The only possible way to make yourself any more generic would be putting on a Pink Floyd record and saying 'These guys really trip me out, man". (Shudddderrr)
It isn't that I have any personal enmity against Mr. "I can't go 4 hours without a joint", though, to be honest, it is pretty pathetic that he can't go 4 hours without a joint. It's just, I wish people wouldn't so constantly let me down by living up to my lowest expectations. Instead of what normally passes for common behavior, I'd just once like to see people not behaving like cookie cutter candies.
That's why, once my Imperial power has been consolidated, I'll be using my authority to establish the Price Saver Police. Their job will be to monitor the public behavior of my citizens, and spare us all from having to endure the ridiculous bland genericness of the unimaginatively dull, and thus, one hopes, allow each of us to live much more happy and fulfilling lives.
First offenses will receive written warnings. Second offenses will receive fines dependent on the severity of the cliché. Third offenses will be met with banishment from the land. (Most likely to Texas.) Just to reassure my loyal citizens that this plan has been well thought out and fully vetted, here's the initial list of punishable offenses.
Men who, when breaking up with their girlfriend, say "I'm scared I'm making the biggest mistake of my life". Then don't fucking break up with her you narcissistic twat!
That one asshole who thinks he's the first person ever to yell "Play Freebird" at a punk show. Ooooh, I hate that guy.
People who make a big show of freaking out, or constantly complaining, about turning 30. Honestly, I really don't give a damn if you feel like you're "running out of time". Get to work already! I'm looking forward to old age because I'll be able to insult people with impunity, so be quiet, poopypants!
Writers or aspiring writers who secretly want to be old men. Yes, I'm fully aware that I'm guilty of this. I just threw this in so you, my loyal citizens, will know for sure that I am not above the law. "I am but a man."
People who, after hooking it up with someone they already know, say "I can't believe we finally got together". You know what I can't believe? That you just made sure I'll never want to hook up with you again. Thanks for ruining the mood. (Note, this is only valid is no previous acknowledgement of hot affection was made - fines will also be nullified if it can be proven that the expression was one of impatience, and not belief in mystical alignment.)
People who, when discussing their new found relationship, say "I wasn't expecting this to happen". Really? because the morning before we met, I got a letter from the government Bureau of future hook ups. Just because you can say something doesn't mean you should.
When discussing politics, that one guy who says 'The problem with communism is that it doesn't take into account 'Human nature'". Er, hello? That's EVERY political system dumbass. Try coming back when you actually have something useful to say**. (Also applicable to that one guy who says "If only we had an economic system Like Sweden". I don't really know if that's good or bad, but I'm damn tired of hearing people trot that out like they're some sort of expert in economics. Isn't there some other country on the planet that represents a blending of Capitalism and socialism, that isn't balls cold?)
Any authority figure who tells you that "when you get to be their age", you'll see the world like they do, IE you'll be a conservative fucktard. Double fines if the person telling you this is within a decade of your own age.
Anyone, anywhere, who actually says "Children are the future". Because I think I can prove pretty conclusively that Dr Emmet brown is the Future, just so you know.
Any band who claims that they're "bringing back the rock", or that they're the "return of rock". Yeah, because Rock n Roll hasn't impudently stuck around like mildew for 40 years, constantly getting suckier and suckier, meanwhile only really existing by reliving past glories. Oooh Snap!
Anyone who claims John was the edgy one, and Paul was the fluffy, unimportant one. Fuck you. Paul is awesome. (Fine can be contested if the person then says that Ringo was the "best" one.)
What cliché's would you like to see punished by the law?
*To be fair, Scott Walker hasn't performed Live since the 70's, and he's so famously reclusive Londoners are lucky to accidentally see him shopping for groceries, so I'm not going to hold his lack of Visiting LA too much against him. But jeez, you'd think he'd be willing to seek psychological counseling to overcome his deep reclusiveness, so that the needs of his two biggest fans, me and my friend Matt could be satisfied. Selfish git!
**Note: I am not specifically endorsing communism. It's a quasi-religion that ignores some really important fundamentals of history, economic activity, and the way people interact. It also explicitly endorses dictatorship, something I cannot support, ever. However, there are valid and very persuasive criticisms of capitalism, and I think we would be well served by exploring some options that go beyond "every man for himself". That said, My point is that no debate is served by repeating dumb, meaningless platitudes that do nothing but obfuscate the larger, more serious issues. Plus, the argument I mentioned just sounds fucking stupid.
But I don't really want to talk about that. What I do want to talk about is the semi-retarded dildo who fired up a doobie while waiting in line to buy tickets for tonight's show. I have to wonder if these people actually think they're being daring or edgy because they can't go 4 hours without making everyone around them smell like a String Cheese incident concert. I mean, lighting up a joint at a concert? People still do that? Did you get your personality at the 99 cent store? The only possible way to make yourself any more generic would be putting on a Pink Floyd record and saying 'These guys really trip me out, man". (Shudddderrr)
It isn't that I have any personal enmity against Mr. "I can't go 4 hours without a joint", though, to be honest, it is pretty pathetic that he can't go 4 hours without a joint. It's just, I wish people wouldn't so constantly let me down by living up to my lowest expectations. Instead of what normally passes for common behavior, I'd just once like to see people not behaving like cookie cutter candies.
That's why, once my Imperial power has been consolidated, I'll be using my authority to establish the Price Saver Police. Their job will be to monitor the public behavior of my citizens, and spare us all from having to endure the ridiculous bland genericness of the unimaginatively dull, and thus, one hopes, allow each of us to live much more happy and fulfilling lives.
First offenses will receive written warnings. Second offenses will receive fines dependent on the severity of the cliché. Third offenses will be met with banishment from the land. (Most likely to Texas.) Just to reassure my loyal citizens that this plan has been well thought out and fully vetted, here's the initial list of punishable offenses.
Men who, when breaking up with their girlfriend, say "I'm scared I'm making the biggest mistake of my life". Then don't fucking break up with her you narcissistic twat!
That one asshole who thinks he's the first person ever to yell "Play Freebird" at a punk show. Ooooh, I hate that guy.
People who make a big show of freaking out, or constantly complaining, about turning 30. Honestly, I really don't give a damn if you feel like you're "running out of time". Get to work already! I'm looking forward to old age because I'll be able to insult people with impunity, so be quiet, poopypants!
Writers or aspiring writers who secretly want to be old men. Yes, I'm fully aware that I'm guilty of this. I just threw this in so you, my loyal citizens, will know for sure that I am not above the law. "I am but a man."
People who, after hooking it up with someone they already know, say "I can't believe we finally got together". You know what I can't believe? That you just made sure I'll never want to hook up with you again. Thanks for ruining the mood. (Note, this is only valid is no previous acknowledgement of hot affection was made - fines will also be nullified if it can be proven that the expression was one of impatience, and not belief in mystical alignment.)
People who, when discussing their new found relationship, say "I wasn't expecting this to happen". Really? because the morning before we met, I got a letter from the government Bureau of future hook ups. Just because you can say something doesn't mean you should.
When discussing politics, that one guy who says 'The problem with communism is that it doesn't take into account 'Human nature'". Er, hello? That's EVERY political system dumbass. Try coming back when you actually have something useful to say**. (Also applicable to that one guy who says "If only we had an economic system Like Sweden". I don't really know if that's good or bad, but I'm damn tired of hearing people trot that out like they're some sort of expert in economics. Isn't there some other country on the planet that represents a blending of Capitalism and socialism, that isn't balls cold?)
Any authority figure who tells you that "when you get to be their age", you'll see the world like they do, IE you'll be a conservative fucktard. Double fines if the person telling you this is within a decade of your own age.
Anyone, anywhere, who actually says "Children are the future". Because I think I can prove pretty conclusively that Dr Emmet brown is the Future, just so you know.
Any band who claims that they're "bringing back the rock", or that they're the "return of rock". Yeah, because Rock n Roll hasn't impudently stuck around like mildew for 40 years, constantly getting suckier and suckier, meanwhile only really existing by reliving past glories. Oooh Snap!
Anyone who claims John was the edgy one, and Paul was the fluffy, unimportant one. Fuck you. Paul is awesome. (Fine can be contested if the person then says that Ringo was the "best" one.)
What cliché's would you like to see punished by the law?
*To be fair, Scott Walker hasn't performed Live since the 70's, and he's so famously reclusive Londoners are lucky to accidentally see him shopping for groceries, so I'm not going to hold his lack of Visiting LA too much against him. But jeez, you'd think he'd be willing to seek psychological counseling to overcome his deep reclusiveness, so that the needs of his two biggest fans, me and my friend Matt could be satisfied. Selfish git!
**Note: I am not specifically endorsing communism. It's a quasi-religion that ignores some really important fundamentals of history, economic activity, and the way people interact. It also explicitly endorses dictatorship, something I cannot support, ever. However, there are valid and very persuasive criticisms of capitalism, and I think we would be well served by exploring some options that go beyond "every man for himself". That said, My point is that no debate is served by repeating dumb, meaningless platitudes that do nothing but obfuscate the larger, more serious issues. Plus, the argument I mentioned just sounds fucking stupid.
2/24/2004
"Damn, that's an expensive nutty bust"
That quote is the product of the wit and wisdom of my good friend R.J., regarding the stupidity involved when somone commits rape, particularly if, like Kobe Bryant, they happen to be very famous and very rich. Truer words were never spoken.
*Note, no one is saying Kobe definitely did it, just that IF he did it, what a fucking idiot. And of course, fuck rapists. They are worthless pondscum.
*Note, no one is saying Kobe definitely did it, just that IF he did it, what a fucking idiot. And of course, fuck rapists. They are worthless pondscum.
2/23/2004
Advantage: embarassed silence
You know the interesting thing about perusing personal services frequented by people you're likely to see around town all the time? You occasionally discover things about people you *kinda* know without their discovering anything about you in return. It's like winning a fight with knowledge gained by traveling into the future, bringing a laser back in time with you, and then clobbering your opponent.
Today, I was helping a friend tweak her personals profile. Afterward, while lazily perusing the rest of the singles site, I stumbled across Cute Indie Girl's(tm) profile, and now I know C.I.G. is open to threeways. I have no idea how I'm going to keep from giggling about this the next time I see her in public.
Fortunately, I have no shame*, and like all truly couragous people, I've revealed many scandalous details of my own proclivities without remorse, simply by sidestepping specific mention of them and resorting instead to euphamism and innuendo. I am a house of stone, not sand.
*NOTE: I have lots of shame.
Today, I was helping a friend tweak her personals profile. Afterward, while lazily perusing the rest of the singles site, I stumbled across Cute Indie Girl's(tm) profile, and now I know C.I.G. is open to threeways. I have no idea how I'm going to keep from giggling about this the next time I see her in public.
Fortunately, I have no shame*, and like all truly couragous people, I've revealed many scandalous details of my own proclivities without remorse, simply by sidestepping specific mention of them and resorting instead to euphamism and innuendo. I am a house of stone, not sand.
*NOTE: I have lots of shame.
"If you're not angry, then you aren't paying attention"
New and very awesome blog, Outsourced America. You know of course how much this stuff matters to me. Go, check it out, get angry, and then rememebr what to do in November.
(Found this link via Tom Tomorrow)
(Found this link via Tom Tomorrow)
Here comes the hotstepper (The Lyrical Gangsta)
Here comes the hotstepper (The Lyrical Gangsta)
Let me first set the scene - Normally, LA weather resembles something out of an after school special or summer camp movie. It's very warm and annoyingly sunny all day, every day, cooling off just enough at night so that you may, should you wish, wear a very light jacket. You know, in case your cool image needs supporting cast help. This is as good a place as any to mention my lifelong personal confusion - growing up and watching as many movies as I have, the major complaint I've always had with Hollywood "magic" is that movie rain looks so damn fake. It falls in a straight line from the sky to the ground without any thought about the possibility of wind actually affecting it in any way. In real life, in every place I've been prior to where I currently live, wind, weather strength, and any number of factors contribute to rainy weather with significant variance. In other words, the rain falls at an obtuse or acute angle.
After a couple of months in southern California, you realize that once you go more than one mile south of the San Fernando Mountains, the rain does in fact fall at the 90 degree angle you see in every movie ever made (movies about tornados aside). It's almost as if the water itself moved out here seeking a big break in the next hot romantic comedy starring the delightful Meg Ryan. Yes, in LA even the weather is a total starfucker. BY way of reminding us all of this fact, as if the new city plan is to terraform the LA basin for future Human colonization, this 90 degree angle, wet-without-end-saturating-everything-without-actually-existing rain you might recognize from the pictures is precisely the weather we've been blessed with since last Wednesday. I for one always come out on the side of rainy weather, so don't assume I'm complaining. I just want you all to understand why, at the end of Saturday night, my hair was flat and I was soaking wet. In short, we're living in a Smiths' song.
Now that you're imagining all the water falling from the sky, let's begin. During high school, my friend Todd G. and I agreed that the sign of things going especially well is the feeling that you're the main character in your own movie. There really isn't an instantaneous, go directly from boring-observer-of-the-world-around-you to main character of Ross Lincoln's Day off, it's more of a gradual transition. In between you start feeling like the plucky supporting best friend, the wacky tragic weirdo, or the angry subplot. Then one day, after 3 weekends in a row of staying up until 6 AM and making out with intelligent women far too wonderful to be sane, considering they were willing to listen to you obsess over Douglas Adams, you realize that it's your story and it's really fun.
Until quite recently, I have been the star of a very boring PBS telefilm about a guy who drinks wine in quantities too large to be considered merely recreational - it wasn't the most boring thing PBS has ever done, but Jesus, you'd think they could have come up with something more original. Fortunately, having apparently hired new writers, things are looking on the up and up as of late. I'm not quite to the level of Ross To the Future, but I'm close. Let's say that instead of being the main character in the movie about my life, I'm the breakout character in a sitcom conveniently set in Glendale California. I think it should be called "Steps 2 th' Mike".
On Saturday, the OG plan was to join my good friend A. at El Cid, the former home of D.W. Griffith Studios (Where groundbreaking and also incredibly racist film "Birth of a Nation" was filmed, back in the day), now converted into a flamenco restaurant, to see Seksu Roba, who are for my money the reigning most interesting band in LA.
Stupidly, due to a sudden and sadly all-too-common Ross-related ailment, namely my severe neurosis about my body, and about what to wear, coupled with a sudden upstairs bathroom ant invasion, over which I was forced to rally the troops and put down, I was considerably later in getting ready for the evening than I intended. Thus Seksu Roba had to make due without the audience stylings of myself and A., whom I would like to give props to for still agreeing to hang with me, considering that she too was forced to postpone the beginning of her evening, by my making sure I stepped out the house with the just-right-for-the-occasion outfit.
Our back up plan led us instead to the Roost, currently my favorite bar - it's a wonderful dive served by the ubiquitous Southeast Asian immigrants and flowing in cheap, incredibly low quality domestic lager. Elliott Smith made it a regular stop when he was still among the not-stabbed-in-the-chest, and it's the current home of the greatest Jukebox in LA. (I'm thinking of K every time I select "Highway to the Danger Zone"). While drinking our cheap Coors/bud/Busch, A. and I stumbled on the secret directions to a party up in the hills (that's the Hollywood hills, in case you didn't know), and after no small effort on my part to nail down the actual directions, we made our way to the Beechwood canyon area of Hollywood and hit the party.
The party turned out to be the best party yet this year. (A much needed respite from the mediocre affairs thus far). It was a birthday party for the daughter of a member of a legendary Mod band, complete with tons of alcohol, tons of people, and most importantly, amazing DJs with actual good music. (Rushmore fans take note, the Rock legend in question played lead guitar for a band on the soundtrack).
Song spun by said DJs included:
Milkshake
Push It
Spread
Don't you want me baby
Love will tear us apart
I can't wait
It take two
the Power
Seriously, it was a great party. A. almost actually talked to a guy she considered cute, I saw cute Band Girl(tm) who I'm totally hot for, (though I suspect she does not share a hotness for the ERL), and I shamelessly flirted with another girl nice enough to humor me. (though let's be honest - I was looking like the shizzit). To be fair, she had an amazing shirt, and I suspect that it was the reason for my shamelessness. I would kill for a shirt that rad. To make things even cooler, I totally pulled off a successful Kid and Play dance maneuver (You know the move I'm talking about - you literally jump over your own leg. Ladies, I am limber as all-git-out), which resulted literally in cheers. When I wasn't busting a move old school style, A. and I were ripping the dance floor a new one and looking damn cool in the process. You know, if by damn cool you mean blissfully unaware of our overt nerdishness.
Oh, I think there were also honest to God celebrities at said party, but this fact is being hotly debated. Want to know who I think they were? Let's just say that Claire Danes has kissed both of them. One of said celebrities was in fall 2001 the unfortunate recipient of my very first episode of starstruckness.
As I indicated, it was awesome, until yet another goddamned SUV driver fucked everything up by parking in front of someone's driveway, which resulted predictably in the cops being called out, which resulted predictably in the party being abruptly halted just after 2 Am, which resulted predictably in everyone being kicked out. Honestly, when you live in a city literally choking to death on its own exhaust and in a river of polished fiberglass and vulcanized rubber, and when said city has NO FUCKING paring lots, do you really need the Chevy Despotism to get you around? SUVs are the car equivalent of that one guy who called you a fag in high school, except that they don't impregnate their girlfriend within the first year of college, drop out, and move back in with their folks. but otherwise, they're just as lame.
Let's jump ahead 20 minutes - The night ended with yours truly, the eligible Ross Lincoln, changing A's flat tire in the very theatrical rain, before going contentedly home to a nice glass of schnapps and a warm bed. Of course, that I accidentally forgot to make sure the parking break was on, causing the car to slide off the jack and very loudly scrape the rotor against pavement will be ignored in my official autobiography in favor of the version where I was both a great friend and perfectly competent.
Message to A: please make sure to fix the tire before you drive all over the city. And the next time you see Colin Firth boy, actually talk to him.
I'm starting to think that in short time, the TV show will be adapted into a movie. And of course, we all know that which separates TV from Film is the portrayal of "adult situations". This includes sexual situations, AKA Hot action. Which of course totally Rules. Unfortunately, it also includes awesome shocking violence. Here's hoping for the original plotline that involves me making out, and not a remake of the 1992 classic "Ross gets beaten up by skinheads".
*** Addendum #1) I came home to find a nice letter from a pen pal. I also discovered that a very good friend of mine is seriously smokin' hot while holding a digicam, referring to herself as "faded". She knows who she is, and she knows I am mad crushed out. I'm talking of course about the Virgin Mary.
*** Addendum #2) Does anyone else think "Changing someone's flat tire" ought to be the new hot euphamism for getting some play? In other news, I decidely did not "change" A.'s flat tire. However, I am happy to pad her resume as a mechanic in case some other guy with a cute car needs help changing his flat tire.
*** Addendum #3) As it turns out A.'s flat (the legit kind, not the make out kind) was caused by hot knife-on-tire action. Some anonymous jerks slashed her curbside tires, which in retrospect adds an element of danger previosuly lacking from the story. We're one step closer to putting my "ninja theory of literature" into practice.
Let me first set the scene - Normally, LA weather resembles something out of an after school special or summer camp movie. It's very warm and annoyingly sunny all day, every day, cooling off just enough at night so that you may, should you wish, wear a very light jacket. You know, in case your cool image needs supporting cast help. This is as good a place as any to mention my lifelong personal confusion - growing up and watching as many movies as I have, the major complaint I've always had with Hollywood "magic" is that movie rain looks so damn fake. It falls in a straight line from the sky to the ground without any thought about the possibility of wind actually affecting it in any way. In real life, in every place I've been prior to where I currently live, wind, weather strength, and any number of factors contribute to rainy weather with significant variance. In other words, the rain falls at an obtuse or acute angle.
After a couple of months in southern California, you realize that once you go more than one mile south of the San Fernando Mountains, the rain does in fact fall at the 90 degree angle you see in every movie ever made (movies about tornados aside). It's almost as if the water itself moved out here seeking a big break in the next hot romantic comedy starring the delightful Meg Ryan. Yes, in LA even the weather is a total starfucker. BY way of reminding us all of this fact, as if the new city plan is to terraform the LA basin for future Human colonization, this 90 degree angle, wet-without-end-saturating-everything-without-actually-existing rain you might recognize from the pictures is precisely the weather we've been blessed with since last Wednesday. I for one always come out on the side of rainy weather, so don't assume I'm complaining. I just want you all to understand why, at the end of Saturday night, my hair was flat and I was soaking wet. In short, we're living in a Smiths' song.
Now that you're imagining all the water falling from the sky, let's begin. During high school, my friend Todd G. and I agreed that the sign of things going especially well is the feeling that you're the main character in your own movie. There really isn't an instantaneous, go directly from boring-observer-of-the-world-around-you to main character of Ross Lincoln's Day off, it's more of a gradual transition. In between you start feeling like the plucky supporting best friend, the wacky tragic weirdo, or the angry subplot. Then one day, after 3 weekends in a row of staying up until 6 AM and making out with intelligent women far too wonderful to be sane, considering they were willing to listen to you obsess over Douglas Adams, you realize that it's your story and it's really fun.
Until quite recently, I have been the star of a very boring PBS telefilm about a guy who drinks wine in quantities too large to be considered merely recreational - it wasn't the most boring thing PBS has ever done, but Jesus, you'd think they could have come up with something more original. Fortunately, having apparently hired new writers, things are looking on the up and up as of late. I'm not quite to the level of Ross To the Future, but I'm close. Let's say that instead of being the main character in the movie about my life, I'm the breakout character in a sitcom conveniently set in Glendale California. I think it should be called "Steps 2 th' Mike".
On Saturday, the OG plan was to join my good friend A. at El Cid, the former home of D.W. Griffith Studios (Where groundbreaking and also incredibly racist film "Birth of a Nation" was filmed, back in the day), now converted into a flamenco restaurant, to see Seksu Roba, who are for my money the reigning most interesting band in LA.
Stupidly, due to a sudden and sadly all-too-common Ross-related ailment, namely my severe neurosis about my body, and about what to wear, coupled with a sudden upstairs bathroom ant invasion, over which I was forced to rally the troops and put down, I was considerably later in getting ready for the evening than I intended. Thus Seksu Roba had to make due without the audience stylings of myself and A., whom I would like to give props to for still agreeing to hang with me, considering that she too was forced to postpone the beginning of her evening, by my making sure I stepped out the house with the just-right-for-the-occasion outfit.
Our back up plan led us instead to the Roost, currently my favorite bar - it's a wonderful dive served by the ubiquitous Southeast Asian immigrants and flowing in cheap, incredibly low quality domestic lager. Elliott Smith made it a regular stop when he was still among the not-stabbed-in-the-chest, and it's the current home of the greatest Jukebox in LA. (I'm thinking of K every time I select "Highway to the Danger Zone"). While drinking our cheap Coors/bud/Busch, A. and I stumbled on the secret directions to a party up in the hills (that's the Hollywood hills, in case you didn't know), and after no small effort on my part to nail down the actual directions, we made our way to the Beechwood canyon area of Hollywood and hit the party.
The party turned out to be the best party yet this year. (A much needed respite from the mediocre affairs thus far). It was a birthday party for the daughter of a member of a legendary Mod band, complete with tons of alcohol, tons of people, and most importantly, amazing DJs with actual good music. (Rushmore fans take note, the Rock legend in question played lead guitar for a band on the soundtrack).
Song spun by said DJs included:
Milkshake
Push It
Spread
Don't you want me baby
Love will tear us apart
I can't wait
It take two
the Power
Seriously, it was a great party. A. almost actually talked to a guy she considered cute, I saw cute Band Girl(tm) who I'm totally hot for, (though I suspect she does not share a hotness for the ERL), and I shamelessly flirted with another girl nice enough to humor me. (though let's be honest - I was looking like the shizzit). To be fair, she had an amazing shirt, and I suspect that it was the reason for my shamelessness. I would kill for a shirt that rad. To make things even cooler, I totally pulled off a successful Kid and Play dance maneuver (You know the move I'm talking about - you literally jump over your own leg. Ladies, I am limber as all-git-out), which resulted literally in cheers. When I wasn't busting a move old school style, A. and I were ripping the dance floor a new one and looking damn cool in the process. You know, if by damn cool you mean blissfully unaware of our overt nerdishness.
Oh, I think there were also honest to God celebrities at said party, but this fact is being hotly debated. Want to know who I think they were? Let's just say that Claire Danes has kissed both of them. One of said celebrities was in fall 2001 the unfortunate recipient of my very first episode of starstruckness.
As I indicated, it was awesome, until yet another goddamned SUV driver fucked everything up by parking in front of someone's driveway, which resulted predictably in the cops being called out, which resulted predictably in the party being abruptly halted just after 2 Am, which resulted predictably in everyone being kicked out. Honestly, when you live in a city literally choking to death on its own exhaust and in a river of polished fiberglass and vulcanized rubber, and when said city has NO FUCKING paring lots, do you really need the Chevy Despotism to get you around? SUVs are the car equivalent of that one guy who called you a fag in high school, except that they don't impregnate their girlfriend within the first year of college, drop out, and move back in with their folks. but otherwise, they're just as lame.
Let's jump ahead 20 minutes - The night ended with yours truly, the eligible Ross Lincoln, changing A's flat tire in the very theatrical rain, before going contentedly home to a nice glass of schnapps and a warm bed. Of course, that I accidentally forgot to make sure the parking break was on, causing the car to slide off the jack and very loudly scrape the rotor against pavement will be ignored in my official autobiography in favor of the version where I was both a great friend and perfectly competent.
Message to A: please make sure to fix the tire before you drive all over the city. And the next time you see Colin Firth boy, actually talk to him.
I'm starting to think that in short time, the TV show will be adapted into a movie. And of course, we all know that which separates TV from Film is the portrayal of "adult situations". This includes sexual situations, AKA Hot action. Which of course totally Rules. Unfortunately, it also includes awesome shocking violence. Here's hoping for the original plotline that involves me making out, and not a remake of the 1992 classic "Ross gets beaten up by skinheads".
*** Addendum #1) I came home to find a nice letter from a pen pal. I also discovered that a very good friend of mine is seriously smokin' hot while holding a digicam, referring to herself as "faded". She knows who she is, and she knows I am mad crushed out. I'm talking of course about the Virgin Mary.
*** Addendum #2) Does anyone else think "Changing someone's flat tire" ought to be the new hot euphamism for getting some play? In other news, I decidely did not "change" A.'s flat tire. However, I am happy to pad her resume as a mechanic in case some other guy with a cute car needs help changing his flat tire.
*** Addendum #3) As it turns out A.'s flat (the legit kind, not the make out kind) was caused by hot knife-on-tire action. Some anonymous jerks slashed her curbside tires, which in retrospect adds an element of danger previosuly lacking from the story. We're one step closer to putting my "ninja theory of literature" into practice.
2/20/2004
I am Ultra-Ross!
All hail my awesome cybernetic might!
I'm not completely satisfied, since these cyborg avatars look too much like robotos or androids. In the next week, I'll write more extensively about cyborgs and why they rule, but for now you should go here, and generate your own cyborg name. Let me know what your Mechnickname is!
Shameless Plug IV, Citizens on Patrol
Oddly enough, I am in fact pulling another shameless plug. In a radical departure from normal procedure, tonight's theme is "The Future". We'll be talking about all the wonderful things in store for us, and about the horrible things in store for us, and best of all, with a little luck our Australian listeners will be happy to let us, the people of today, know what life is like for them, the people of 16 hours in the future (give or take a couple of hours). We will also play music that will not be bad at all, guaranteed.
You owe it to your descendents to listen with rapt attention.
You owe it to your descendents to listen with rapt attention.
Unfuckingbelievable
I know I've been really political this week, and I promise that I'll make with the funny again real soon. But Shiva H Vishnu, the chutzpah these assholes have is astounding (You may need to complete the free registration in order to read):
In the New Economics: Fast-Food Factories?
Is cooking a hamburger patty and inserting the meat, lettuce and ketchup inside a bun a manufacturing job, like assembling automobiles?
That question is posed in the new Economic Report of the President, a thick annual compendium of observations and statistics on the health of the United States economy.
The latest edition, sent to Congress last week, questions whether fast-food restaurants should continue to be counted as part of the service sector or should be reclassified as manufacturers. No answers were offered.
In a speech to Washington economists Tuesday, N. Gregory Mankiw, chairman of the president's Council of Economic Advisers, said that properly classifying such workers was "an important consideration" in setting economic policy.
Oh Goody, yet another classic from This Space For Rent Favorite N. Gregory Mankiw, of "Outsourcing is good for the economy" fame. In today's episode, instead of actually doing something about the flight of well paying, hard to do manufacturing jobs, which by the way is seriously hurting our long term economic health, we'll just reclassify what manufacturing is. Problem solved!
Of course, we'll also need to reclassify one dollar, so that it means 5 dollars. Then we'll make the new federal minimum wage 20 bucks an hour! You know, so those "industrial" laborers in the fast food industry won't wonder why, if they're suddenly working in manufacturing, they're making so little money.
I've got another idea. Why don't we just reclassify unemployment as "Low paying non working employment". Voila! The employment rate reaches 100%. Hooray! Bush is the greatest president ever!
Godfuckingdammit, What a bunch of assholes. No, I'm sorry, what a bunch of fucking assholes. If I wasn't bleeding out my eyes in all-consuming anger, I might be a little more elequent, but seriously, fuck them.
Everyone reading, please take note: If you ever needed proof that Republican economic policies represent nothing less that an all out war aginst the middle class and poor, and this doesn't convince you, then nothing will. The fact is, these people don't care about your jobs, they don't care about your rights, and they dont' care about our future. They're parasites. They're our enemies. Vote this fall.
(Found this link at Atrios)
In the New Economics: Fast-Food Factories?
Is cooking a hamburger patty and inserting the meat, lettuce and ketchup inside a bun a manufacturing job, like assembling automobiles?
That question is posed in the new Economic Report of the President, a thick annual compendium of observations and statistics on the health of the United States economy.
The latest edition, sent to Congress last week, questions whether fast-food restaurants should continue to be counted as part of the service sector or should be reclassified as manufacturers. No answers were offered.
In a speech to Washington economists Tuesday, N. Gregory Mankiw, chairman of the president's Council of Economic Advisers, said that properly classifying such workers was "an important consideration" in setting economic policy.
Oh Goody, yet another classic from This Space For Rent Favorite N. Gregory Mankiw, of "Outsourcing is good for the economy" fame. In today's episode, instead of actually doing something about the flight of well paying, hard to do manufacturing jobs, which by the way is seriously hurting our long term economic health, we'll just reclassify what manufacturing is. Problem solved!
Of course, we'll also need to reclassify one dollar, so that it means 5 dollars. Then we'll make the new federal minimum wage 20 bucks an hour! You know, so those "industrial" laborers in the fast food industry won't wonder why, if they're suddenly working in manufacturing, they're making so little money.
I've got another idea. Why don't we just reclassify unemployment as "Low paying non working employment". Voila! The employment rate reaches 100%. Hooray! Bush is the greatest president ever!
Godfuckingdammit, What a bunch of assholes. No, I'm sorry, what a bunch of fucking assholes. If I wasn't bleeding out my eyes in all-consuming anger, I might be a little more elequent, but seriously, fuck them.
Everyone reading, please take note: If you ever needed proof that Republican economic policies represent nothing less that an all out war aginst the middle class and poor, and this doesn't convince you, then nothing will. The fact is, these people don't care about your jobs, they don't care about your rights, and they dont' care about our future. They're parasites. They're our enemies. Vote this fall.
(Found this link at Atrios)
2/19/2004
Howard is out of the race
As anyone paying attention to the news must surely know by now, Dean is officially out of the race. There's a somewhat bittersweet atmosphere among those of us who've been supporting him for so long, but I want to go on records as feeling rather good about the way things have turned out. I don't think of this end as little work for little gain - Dean now won't win the nomination, but if he's being serious about turning Dean For America into a force for change within the Democratic party, then he's already earned all my work and money.
It's a cliche to mention this, but let's remember that when it counted, Dean was the only major Democrat brave enough to call the Bushies out for the War in Iraq. He was the only candidate willing to risk political suicide by pointing out that the war was based on falsehoods or at least bad judgment, and that we had no business getting involved. Most importantly, he was the only major Democrat willing to address that fact that after 2000, the democrats largely rolled over like obedient puppies. In short, He was the ONLY candidate to be a voice for those of us sickened to our guts by the spinelessness of the democratic party under BushII. For that, he deserves our thanks and our continued support.
With this in mind, I still think that Dean may have made a worse candidate than was apparent during the lead up to the primaries. He made some fairly crucial errors really early in the campaign. For my money, the single worst moment occurred back in 2002, when he said during an off the cuff interview, that the United States "won't be the world's most powerful country forever". He's right of course, but frightening historical inevitabilities are for historians and political scientists to make note of - They require subtle explanations of historical trends and provision of cognate examples.
Unfortunately for those of us who actually obsess over such things, subtlety is generally lost on the electorate in an age when most complex political discourse is limited to 5 seconds bursts. Hell, even in intelligent conversation with like minded people, we have a tendency to want to nail people down to the simplest explanation, even if the answer requires a 3 hour lecture to really get across the intricacies and possibilities. Sort of like people who want to think that the answer to "Why did Rome Fall?" can be contained in a single paragraph.*
Meaning of course that even if it is true that someday, even we won't be King Of The Hill any longer, a serious Presidential candidate should never, ever say such a thing. Not because we need to be lied to, but because sometimes, having too firm a grip on the long view of history can diminish your ability to convey the necessary sense of optimism and practical change needed to reassure your constituents that you've got what it takes to secure the future of this country, regardless of our relative power.
Scarily, not once during the Democratic primary campaigning last fall, when republicans quite obviously looked forward to a Dean/Bush match up, did they ever mention this little gaffe. (Except on the blogs of course). You can bet that this is because they were saving it for the main campaign. If dean had won the nomination, the Bushies wouldn't have even bothered to address their horrible mishandling of the economy, their lies and cheating, their end run around the constitution with the PATRIOT act, and the countless other ways' they've been running the country into the ground. They would have just plastered TV with commercials showing dean, over and over, saying that we wouldn't always be the most powerful country in the world. Game, set, and match.
This is why I think Dean didn't win once we got to the primaries - we all know that beating Bush is the most important thing in the world. And to that end, we need to be able to make this election about everything that Bush is not. In order to accomplish this, our Candidate has to be War Proof. Not Bush proof, since my firm conviction is that Bush is Swiss cheese, politically speaking. We need a candidate who has absolutely no vulnerability on the one issue the Republicans, no matter how wrong they are, have a real, tactile and tactical advantage over us. If we allow this election, even for a second, to be defined by the "Republicans' have big swinging dicks and we kill brown people for America, bitches!!!" meme that the republicans so desperately wish for, we are screwed. That's why our candidate has to be able to convincingly call out flight suit boy for what he is, and then quickly shift the argument back to the things that really matter - The incredibly shrinking economy, the PATRIOT act, and the Christian fundamentalists in charge of the government. Failure to do this is a failure to win.
The only greater assurance of a republican victory would be nominating Hillary for VP.
So why did I bother supporting Dean even if I knew for a fact that he wasn't the best guy for the job (At least in 2004)? Because his successes have seemingly transformed the democratic party. After a hard couple of years, we're suddenly fighting back like people who actually want to win. However, we still have an uphill battle against the entrenched power of the DNC, and for that, we better hope Dean is being for reelz about turning his movement into a real democratic powerhouse for change. However, already, as Greg from the talent show has pointed out, the other campaigns are promising a bloody, nasty fight this year. Kerry in particular has promised that "Nothing is off the table. Nothing". Damn right, For too long, we've tried to play nice with people who can't be trusted, much less believed in. They've used every dirty trick, lie, and bullying tactic to literally steal their way into power, and it looks like we're finally going to stop putting up with it.
So if our eventual nominee gets wise and fights republican fire with Democratic Napalm, we'll have Howard to thank for making that okay again.
*
It's a cliche to mention this, but let's remember that when it counted, Dean was the only major Democrat brave enough to call the Bushies out for the War in Iraq. He was the only candidate willing to risk political suicide by pointing out that the war was based on falsehoods or at least bad judgment, and that we had no business getting involved. Most importantly, he was the only major Democrat willing to address that fact that after 2000, the democrats largely rolled over like obedient puppies. In short, He was the ONLY candidate to be a voice for those of us sickened to our guts by the spinelessness of the democratic party under BushII. For that, he deserves our thanks and our continued support.
With this in mind, I still think that Dean may have made a worse candidate than was apparent during the lead up to the primaries. He made some fairly crucial errors really early in the campaign. For my money, the single worst moment occurred back in 2002, when he said during an off the cuff interview, that the United States "won't be the world's most powerful country forever". He's right of course, but frightening historical inevitabilities are for historians and political scientists to make note of - They require subtle explanations of historical trends and provision of cognate examples.
Unfortunately for those of us who actually obsess over such things, subtlety is generally lost on the electorate in an age when most complex political discourse is limited to 5 seconds bursts. Hell, even in intelligent conversation with like minded people, we have a tendency to want to nail people down to the simplest explanation, even if the answer requires a 3 hour lecture to really get across the intricacies and possibilities. Sort of like people who want to think that the answer to "Why did Rome Fall?" can be contained in a single paragraph.*
Meaning of course that even if it is true that someday, even we won't be King Of The Hill any longer, a serious Presidential candidate should never, ever say such a thing. Not because we need to be lied to, but because sometimes, having too firm a grip on the long view of history can diminish your ability to convey the necessary sense of optimism and practical change needed to reassure your constituents that you've got what it takes to secure the future of this country, regardless of our relative power.
Scarily, not once during the Democratic primary campaigning last fall, when republicans quite obviously looked forward to a Dean/Bush match up, did they ever mention this little gaffe. (Except on the blogs of course). You can bet that this is because they were saving it for the main campaign. If dean had won the nomination, the Bushies wouldn't have even bothered to address their horrible mishandling of the economy, their lies and cheating, their end run around the constitution with the PATRIOT act, and the countless other ways' they've been running the country into the ground. They would have just plastered TV with commercials showing dean, over and over, saying that we wouldn't always be the most powerful country in the world. Game, set, and match.
This is why I think Dean didn't win once we got to the primaries - we all know that beating Bush is the most important thing in the world. And to that end, we need to be able to make this election about everything that Bush is not. In order to accomplish this, our Candidate has to be War Proof. Not Bush proof, since my firm conviction is that Bush is Swiss cheese, politically speaking. We need a candidate who has absolutely no vulnerability on the one issue the Republicans, no matter how wrong they are, have a real, tactile and tactical advantage over us. If we allow this election, even for a second, to be defined by the "Republicans' have big swinging dicks and we kill brown people for America, bitches!!!" meme that the republicans so desperately wish for, we are screwed. That's why our candidate has to be able to convincingly call out flight suit boy for what he is, and then quickly shift the argument back to the things that really matter - The incredibly shrinking economy, the PATRIOT act, and the Christian fundamentalists in charge of the government. Failure to do this is a failure to win.
The only greater assurance of a republican victory would be nominating Hillary for VP.
So why did I bother supporting Dean even if I knew for a fact that he wasn't the best guy for the job (At least in 2004)? Because his successes have seemingly transformed the democratic party. After a hard couple of years, we're suddenly fighting back like people who actually want to win. However, we still have an uphill battle against the entrenched power of the DNC, and for that, we better hope Dean is being for reelz about turning his movement into a real democratic powerhouse for change. However, already, as Greg from the talent show has pointed out, the other campaigns are promising a bloody, nasty fight this year. Kerry in particular has promised that "Nothing is off the table. Nothing". Damn right, For too long, we've tried to play nice with people who can't be trusted, much less believed in. They've used every dirty trick, lie, and bullying tactic to literally steal their way into power, and it looks like we're finally going to stop putting up with it.
So if our eventual nominee gets wise and fights republican fire with Democratic Napalm, we'll have Howard to thank for making that okay again.
*
Incidentally, the "short" version is: A wretchedly primitive understanding of economics; poorly enforced and ill-conceived tax laws; increasing inability to fund the military or to cope with new military threats; no plan for leadership succession; Aristotelian logic and science that severely crippled real progress and learning after the 200s BCE; an economy based in large part on Slave Labor; the consolidation of country lands under fewer and fewer hands leading to the landed barons becoming almost governments in their own rights; a depopulation of the countryside hurting the economy; climate change and new diseases; the replacement of pagan 'rationalism' with Christian mysticism as the dominant worldview; the decline of urban life that was central to Roman civic health; the fact that Rome, once it turned from a republic to an empire, was saddled with a potentially fatal illness, namely that empires must keep expanding to survive, something they couldn't afford after too long; the removal of most people from the political process, and the increasing meddling of the military; and only after all these things, the barbarian invasions and the rise of Islam. And for the record, males engaging in gay sex had absolutely nothing at all to do with it, whatsoever.
2/18/2004
Cruuuuush!
People who know me know I am in the grips of a major crush. I've decided to complicate matter further by crushing on two people at once. Rose Smith, consider your kiss to be on my list. Fa reelz.
2/17/2004
More unbelievable utterances
Last week, I jokingly suggested that we stop using pleasantries and honoriffics when talking about the people currently Sailing the ship of state onto a sandbar. It only gives them a veneer of respect they don't deserve, and makes the rest of us look like idiots. Instead of such titles as "Advisors", "Experts", and "Officials", we ought to just call them what they are, which is basically, assholes.
It looks like my little joke is going to become official This Space for Rent policy. I've been posting a lot on the troubling outsourcing trend - Seeing as I work in an industry that's currently being gutted by the practice, it's weighing pretty heavily on my mind these days. Don't get me wrong - I want to believe that the people of both parties are basically decent people who really do want what's best for the country. I also want to believe that magical fairies and unicorns are available at my local petting zoo. I wonder if I'm going to be disappointed again.
Recently, the (asshole) President's chief Economic advisor N. Gregory Mankiw (also an asshole) actually catagorically endorsed outsourcing as good for the US economy. To be fair, he also he refered to workers and people as tradeable commoditites, while using the sort of grammar and language one normally reserves for explaining sex and reproduction to children. Like I said, he's an asshole.
Of course, our good friend N. Greg doesn't actually live in the alternate universe reality where people losing jobs, while rich people loot the country under Bush's watch, results in more votes for the non-elected fraud that passes for the Bush Administration. So, like every single other instance of someone from the Bush Administration accidently saying what they all secretly think, followed immediately by the country freaking out at the sudden realization that freakish sociopaths are in charge of the country, the predictable switcheroo we've come to expect from the Bushies has been concoted post-haste:
Bush economist: Job comments misconstrued
Feb. 17, 2004 | WASHINGTON (AP) -- President Bush's chief economist, who stirred controversy by suggesting that shipping U.S. service jobs overseas could be good for the economy, said Tuesday his comments were "far from clear and were misinterpreted."
N. Gregory Mankiw, author of one of the most popular college textbooks on economics and current chairman of the president's Council of Economic Advisers, said nothing he said should have been construed "as praising U.S. job losses."
"far from clear and misinturpreted"? What an asshole. Who are they trying to kid anyway? There just isn't anyway else to misconstrue something like:
"Outsourcing is just a new way of doing international trade," "More things are tradable than were tradable in the past. And that's a good thing.".
Look asshole, it's bad enough that you actually said this nonsense in the first place, but when backtracking, try not to insult our intelligence with excuses like:
"Economists and noneconomists speak very different languages," Mankiw said in a speech to an audience of economists.
Sure, I'll buy that. A professional economist and Harvard professor, member of the Bush Asshole team, and author of "one of the most popular textbooks on economics in the country", who doesn't have a clue about communicating ideas in a manner appropriate for the audiance. Makes perfect sense to me.
No, wait, that's goddamned ridiculous. I'm going to decline to accept this explanation at present. TO me, it's completely obvious what's going on. The Republicons are really into being the "Daddy" party big time, and this whole mess strikes me as the latest incarnation of their acting the role of "tough guy on top of shit Daddy". This was the beta test for what might have been their official stance on outsourcing: "Sure dawgs, the flight of your jobs might seem bad, but don't let those hater commie Dems worry your pretty little heads - it's not bad at all, because we said so. Besides, we're rich and we have it all under control. You can trust us holmes."
This would fit well with the Likely Bush rele- I mean, the Bush Election theme: "I've had this being president shit locked up ever since 911, bitches! I'm on the muthafucka! Don't vote for those Pussy democrat playa haters, vote for the OG Thugs, Bush/Cheney". Too bad the average voter isn't a complete religious fundamentalist, and thus brainwashed to believe that voting for democrats will make Osama Happy. Most voters actually have to live with the consequences of republican fiscal irresponsibilty, unsure that jesus will come soon enough to render their mounting debts irrelevant.
Here's some free advice from me to you. Just admit it: You're rich, republican, and you don't give a damn about the wreck you're doing to this country with your tax cuts. You're an asshole. Who works for other assholes. Fuck you.
Here's hoping that the press wakes up and makes sure that it's obvious what these assholes are doing.
It looks like my little joke is going to become official This Space for Rent policy. I've been posting a lot on the troubling outsourcing trend - Seeing as I work in an industry that's currently being gutted by the practice, it's weighing pretty heavily on my mind these days. Don't get me wrong - I want to believe that the people of both parties are basically decent people who really do want what's best for the country. I also want to believe that magical fairies and unicorns are available at my local petting zoo. I wonder if I'm going to be disappointed again.
Recently, the (asshole) President's chief Economic advisor N. Gregory Mankiw (also an asshole) actually catagorically endorsed outsourcing as good for the US economy. To be fair, he also he refered to workers and people as tradeable commoditites, while using the sort of grammar and language one normally reserves for explaining sex and reproduction to children. Like I said, he's an asshole.
Of course, our good friend N. Greg doesn't actually live in the alternate universe reality where people losing jobs, while rich people loot the country under Bush's watch, results in more votes for the non-elected fraud that passes for the Bush Administration. So, like every single other instance of someone from the Bush Administration accidently saying what they all secretly think, followed immediately by the country freaking out at the sudden realization that freakish sociopaths are in charge of the country, the predictable switcheroo we've come to expect from the Bushies has been concoted post-haste:
Bush economist: Job comments misconstrued
Feb. 17, 2004 | WASHINGTON (AP) -- President Bush's chief economist, who stirred controversy by suggesting that shipping U.S. service jobs overseas could be good for the economy, said Tuesday his comments were "far from clear and were misinterpreted."
N. Gregory Mankiw, author of one of the most popular college textbooks on economics and current chairman of the president's Council of Economic Advisers, said nothing he said should have been construed "as praising U.S. job losses."
"far from clear and misinturpreted"? What an asshole. Who are they trying to kid anyway? There just isn't anyway else to misconstrue something like:
"Outsourcing is just a new way of doing international trade," "More things are tradable than were tradable in the past. And that's a good thing.".
Look asshole, it's bad enough that you actually said this nonsense in the first place, but when backtracking, try not to insult our intelligence with excuses like:
"Economists and noneconomists speak very different languages," Mankiw said in a speech to an audience of economists.
Sure, I'll buy that. A professional economist and Harvard professor, member of the Bush Asshole team, and author of "one of the most popular textbooks on economics in the country", who doesn't have a clue about communicating ideas in a manner appropriate for the audiance. Makes perfect sense to me.
No, wait, that's goddamned ridiculous. I'm going to decline to accept this explanation at present. TO me, it's completely obvious what's going on. The Republicons are really into being the "Daddy" party big time, and this whole mess strikes me as the latest incarnation of their acting the role of "tough guy on top of shit Daddy". This was the beta test for what might have been their official stance on outsourcing: "Sure dawgs, the flight of your jobs might seem bad, but don't let those hater commie Dems worry your pretty little heads - it's not bad at all, because we said so. Besides, we're rich and we have it all under control. You can trust us holmes."
This would fit well with the Likely Bush rele- I mean, the Bush Election theme: "I've had this being president shit locked up ever since 911, bitches! I'm on the muthafucka! Don't vote for those Pussy democrat playa haters, vote for the OG Thugs, Bush/Cheney". Too bad the average voter isn't a complete religious fundamentalist, and thus brainwashed to believe that voting for democrats will make Osama Happy. Most voters actually have to live with the consequences of republican fiscal irresponsibilty, unsure that jesus will come soon enough to render their mounting debts irrelevant.
Here's some free advice from me to you. Just admit it: You're rich, republican, and you don't give a damn about the wreck you're doing to this country with your tax cuts. You're an asshole. Who works for other assholes. Fuck you.
Here's hoping that the press wakes up and makes sure that it's obvious what these assholes are doing.
2/14/2004
Love, People's Democratic Republic of Rossian Style!
I'm in an exceptionally good mood this morning. As you may or may not know, I've been hosting my radio show, Theme Party for nearly a year - Generally, we've been hilarious together and the show is usually a success. However, around the end of last year, we began to slip a little. Tech problems, a lack of groove, intermittent attendance and the usualy chaos of the last 4th of a year contributed to this slip in quality (And for the record, I blame myself). However, the last three weeks we've really come back strong, and last night's show was, in my opinion, the best show we've done since "The Eligible" show last september.
I'm so happy about the fun we've been having with the show recently that I'm even in a bemused and silly disposition about Valentizzle's Dizzle. We're (that's Royal "we" folks) not supposed to like Valentine's Day, and we don't - To wit, it's not an official holiday, which is retarded. Worse, it was conceived by the greeting card industry, which makes everyone of us retarded for going along with it. Furthermore, 89% of all romantic comedies, the Raison D'etra of Vally D's, are total Le Suck. The single worst thing about the whole mess is that otherwise smart people, smart people you yourself might want to occasioanlly kiss, buy into VD. Subsequently, if you don't, the person you're dating who does get's all weird on you because you even consider ignoring it. Nevermind that you'll go all out for the anniversary. (and never mind that you totally put out for them on the first date. I mean, what more do they want from you, blood???)
Ahem.
However, one thing we do like is cheesiness. Outright, unabashed sappy cheese. And for that matter, songs about le amor in general. Currently I'm on a full blown romance hiatus, (That's romance witha capital R. I'm all about the little r romances), but generally speaking, I'm a total sucker, and I'm always into love songs. Particularly if the song's protagonist self-deprecatingly praises their potential paramour, if the protagonist is in agony, or if the protagonist just happens to get messed up all the time and then slurringly tell his lady how he feels.
From this point of view it's hard to completely hate Valentine's day. Sure it's a scam, but listening to self indulgent love songs is really, really fun. Of course, for fairness' sake, it's true that I'm also single, which takes off an enormous amount of pressure.
Happily for people in my single situation, people are often willing to make out with other single people, which in my book makes them good citizens, true Americans all. Me being as I mentioned single, that means that I can, if I wish, make out with said people to my heart's content. I am also as it turns out free to participate in that other ritual of Valentine's day, the unconsumated crush; a state of utter frustration, made bearable only by the implied optimism.
(Lisa Hayes from Robotech, I'm reopening my 6th grade crush file with your name on it. be warned).
Basically, everything's comin' up Rosses.
A week ago, I arbitrarily decreed that 2004 began on february 4th, and so far it looks like I made the correct call - it's been a great first month of the year, and it appears to me that the winning streak is going to keep on keepin' on. I've felt, well, sort of switched on recently, and it's been remarkably wonderful consdering the several months of living in emotional nuetral. Too bad there aren't any details to share, not really. Besides, even if there were, none of you need to know if and with whom I may or may not have a crush on*, or with whom I may or may not lock lips. Kissing and telling, in my opinion, is for later, either after said crushes or make outs are famous, and you can write your tell-all scandal book, or after you've recieved permission and feel the need to get your brag on.
Of course, I do reserve the right to arbitrarily change my mind on this topic, and post eye opening prime sinuenndo whenever I feel like it.
Anyway, I will for now defer to prudence and say only that just one hour into this esteemed quote holiday unquote, my earlier statement about people on this holiday was almost put to the test. I think it's safe to say that if last night is any indication, it's going to be a smashing weekend indeed.
So to sum up:
Cheesy songs - check
crush - possibly, check
possible make outs - er, within the realm of possiblity, which is to say, possibly, check
Now, I'm off to avoid the day by playing Simpsons Hit and Run instead of writing like I promised myself I would. Responsibility! Thy name is Ross.
*Seriously though. Lisa, Rick Hunter is a complete pussy. Ditch the Zero girl, and get with the hero!
I'm so happy about the fun we've been having with the show recently that I'm even in a bemused and silly disposition about Valentizzle's Dizzle. We're (that's Royal "we" folks) not supposed to like Valentine's Day, and we don't - To wit, it's not an official holiday, which is retarded. Worse, it was conceived by the greeting card industry, which makes everyone of us retarded for going along with it. Furthermore, 89% of all romantic comedies, the Raison D'etra of Vally D's, are total Le Suck. The single worst thing about the whole mess is that otherwise smart people, smart people you yourself might want to occasioanlly kiss, buy into VD. Subsequently, if you don't, the person you're dating who does get's all weird on you because you even consider ignoring it. Nevermind that you'll go all out for the anniversary. (and never mind that you totally put out for them on the first date. I mean, what more do they want from you, blood???)
Ahem.
However, one thing we do like is cheesiness. Outright, unabashed sappy cheese. And for that matter, songs about le amor in general. Currently I'm on a full blown romance hiatus, (That's romance witha capital R. I'm all about the little r romances), but generally speaking, I'm a total sucker, and I'm always into love songs. Particularly if the song's protagonist self-deprecatingly praises their potential paramour, if the protagonist is in agony, or if the protagonist just happens to get messed up all the time and then slurringly tell his lady how he feels.
From this point of view it's hard to completely hate Valentine's day. Sure it's a scam, but listening to self indulgent love songs is really, really fun. Of course, for fairness' sake, it's true that I'm also single, which takes off an enormous amount of pressure.
Happily for people in my single situation, people are often willing to make out with other single people, which in my book makes them good citizens, true Americans all. Me being as I mentioned single, that means that I can, if I wish, make out with said people to my heart's content. I am also as it turns out free to participate in that other ritual of Valentine's day, the unconsumated crush; a state of utter frustration, made bearable only by the implied optimism.
(Lisa Hayes from Robotech, I'm reopening my 6th grade crush file with your name on it. be warned).
Basically, everything's comin' up Rosses.
A week ago, I arbitrarily decreed that 2004 began on february 4th, and so far it looks like I made the correct call - it's been a great first month of the year, and it appears to me that the winning streak is going to keep on keepin' on. I've felt, well, sort of switched on recently, and it's been remarkably wonderful consdering the several months of living in emotional nuetral. Too bad there aren't any details to share, not really. Besides, even if there were, none of you need to know if and with whom I may or may not have a crush on*, or with whom I may or may not lock lips. Kissing and telling, in my opinion, is for later, either after said crushes or make outs are famous, and you can write your tell-all scandal book, or after you've recieved permission and feel the need to get your brag on.
Of course, I do reserve the right to arbitrarily change my mind on this topic, and post eye opening prime sinuenndo whenever I feel like it.
Anyway, I will for now defer to prudence and say only that just one hour into this esteemed quote holiday unquote, my earlier statement about people on this holiday was almost put to the test. I think it's safe to say that if last night is any indication, it's going to be a smashing weekend indeed.
So to sum up:
Cheesy songs - check
crush - possibly, check
possible make outs - er, within the realm of possiblity, which is to say, possibly, check
Now, I'm off to avoid the day by playing Simpsons Hit and Run instead of writing like I promised myself I would. Responsibility! Thy name is Ross.
*Seriously though. Lisa, Rick Hunter is a complete pussy. Ditch the Zero girl, and get with the hero!
2/13/2004
If You Can Make It Here, You Can Make It Anywhere!"
That line is actually belted out, ghetto banger style, in the most awesome Jermaine Dupree song yet, Welcome To Atlanta (Remix!). The chorus, for some reason, also helpfully let's you know that this is a remix by yelling "Ahw Remix!" at every opportunity. I think that footnotes in books and abridged novels should be similarly shouted out by the authors.
God Damn, I really just got the best mix CDs from a homie. And dammit, I'm forced to concede to the genius of the song choices. Also, people who make refrigerator magnets out of porn deserve an award. They are truly enlightened. I'll be forming an imperial committe to honor them immediately.
God Damn, I really just got the best mix CDs from a homie. And dammit, I'm forced to concede to the genius of the song choices. Also, people who make refrigerator magnets out of porn deserve an award. They are truly enlightened. I'll be forming an imperial committe to honor them immediately.
We will totally 'do' you (Shameless Plug's Theme)
Do you have questions about love? Do you too desire to know the secrets of a successful P.I.M.P.? Are you concerned that the dead willl become reanimated, and the corpses of your former loved ones will arise to eat the flesh of the living? Have you been feelin' a bit lonely lately? Well don't even trip girl, I'll handle this. We gotchoo covered. All you need to do is bring that cute lil' body of yours to a computer tonight, from 9PM to 11PM PST, and prepare to be wooed like you ain't never been wooed before, by the glory and radness of a show I like to call Theme Party.
Tonight, it's our special, romantic valentine's day extravaganza, "Friday the 13th: A Love story". We will hella talk about sex, and discuss how to cope with the horrifying things that can befall you in life and love. Like dating, and really inconsiderate paramours. It will be an unneccesary juxtaposition guaranteed to make you, well, yell out in either terror or delight.
If you're in the LA area, then you already know about how to listen to it on the air. Seriously girl. You know we love you. Honest.
Tonight, it's our special, romantic valentine's day extravaganza, "Friday the 13th: A Love story". We will hella talk about sex, and discuss how to cope with the horrifying things that can befall you in life and love. Like dating, and really inconsiderate paramours. It will be an unneccesary juxtaposition guaranteed to make you, well, yell out in either terror or delight.
If you're in the LA area, then you already know about how to listen to it on the air. Seriously girl. You know we love you. Honest.
2/12/2004
New Issue
There is some great New Ostrich Ink action. Even little ol' me managed to slip into this month's issue. Go there. DO it. Do it now. You will love it
We're almost to V-Day - Gimmie some kissin'
I think it can be proven definitively that whatever people were wearing in your scene, when first you were able to finally date and make out, those outfits and styles will always retain a visceral and pavlonian attraction. No matter how silly or ridiculous the fashion may look to the eyes of posterity, seeing them still reminds one of their earliest dating days.
In my case, it's the fashion of the late 80's early 90's progressive/alternative dandy wannabes - I fell in with them just in time for the peak of the Cure's popularity in the states, and the beginning of early 90's hipster culture. This was about the time I figured out that the problem at my high school wasn't me, it was that everyone else had lame musical taste and shitty fashion sense. (And yes, I did fight snobery with reverse-snobery. Tee hee). As it turned out, all I needed to do to finally start enjoying myself regualrly was to occasionaly make it out of Sapulpa, and actually meet people with whom I had something in common. Like music and interests, politics, and y'know, a common sense of a job well done from making people think you might be gay (This being Oklahoma, you really get a lot of chances to do this).
I am still to this day quite attracted to various styles that went out of fashion by 1994. They still haunt my dreams.
* Cardigan sweater, t-shirt, catholic school skirt, knee high stockings, DM boots, or clunky Mary Janes, and Red hair, either short and pixyish, or long and pulled into pig tails. Yum Yum Yum. For the record, I don't actually like actual catholic school girls, and I'm aware that variations of this look still pop up from time to time. But as with pizza and Italian food, sometimes it's okay to get the message across that you still don't mind hitting Palermo's for soggy bread and cheese filled lasagna as often as possible. You know, just so it won't be taken away from you.
* Those hilarious body suits worn by the one hit wonder House Music artists, circa 1989 to 1991, like Cece Penitston and Cathy Dennison. I also had a major crush on both of them during high school, (This does not, I know, reduce the chances of being constantly mistaken for a gay guy, and probably explains why it happens so often). These things are just bad bad bad. But I still kind of get sort of "mmm hmmm" feeling whenever I see one of those "Dance party!" cd commercials and they show clips from that era.
* Chokers. Please god, please bring them back. I'm already all Spanish fly for a good neck to kiss on, but having a choker... it's like the neck equivalent of the first time I got to really make out with a girl. So much to figure out! Yes, they do come back into fashion every so often, but they were ubiquitous when I was 17 and therefore will always remain a personal favorite.
* Baby Doll dresses and striped stockings. Anyone remember that look? It was the de facto uniform of weird artsy girls until about 1992, and half of my first girlfriends had at least one variation on this outfit stocked in their closet for emergency situations. It was sooo hot - And thanks to it, Samantha Mathis in Pump up the Volume was damn bootlicious. Similar to how, if you were a guy, and you wore a vest and combat boots, this was the "I'm just like you, let's kiss" outfit of my early kissing days, and I will always love it so.
You know, now that I'm looking down this list, I think it's time to offer a little prayer of thanks: Contempo Casuals, AKA ContempHo Casuals - we knew ye well. Gone you may be, but your commitment to blurring the line between white trash and girl dandyism will live forever in my little pretentious heart.
In my case, it's the fashion of the late 80's early 90's progressive/alternative dandy wannabes - I fell in with them just in time for the peak of the Cure's popularity in the states, and the beginning of early 90's hipster culture. This was about the time I figured out that the problem at my high school wasn't me, it was that everyone else had lame musical taste and shitty fashion sense. (And yes, I did fight snobery with reverse-snobery. Tee hee). As it turned out, all I needed to do to finally start enjoying myself regualrly was to occasionaly make it out of Sapulpa, and actually meet people with whom I had something in common. Like music and interests, politics, and y'know, a common sense of a job well done from making people think you might be gay (This being Oklahoma, you really get a lot of chances to do this).
I am still to this day quite attracted to various styles that went out of fashion by 1994. They still haunt my dreams.
* Cardigan sweater, t-shirt, catholic school skirt, knee high stockings, DM boots, or clunky Mary Janes, and Red hair, either short and pixyish, or long and pulled into pig tails. Yum Yum Yum. For the record, I don't actually like actual catholic school girls, and I'm aware that variations of this look still pop up from time to time. But as with pizza and Italian food, sometimes it's okay to get the message across that you still don't mind hitting Palermo's for soggy bread and cheese filled lasagna as often as possible. You know, just so it won't be taken away from you.
* Those hilarious body suits worn by the one hit wonder House Music artists, circa 1989 to 1991, like Cece Penitston and Cathy Dennison. I also had a major crush on both of them during high school, (This does not, I know, reduce the chances of being constantly mistaken for a gay guy, and probably explains why it happens so often). These things are just bad bad bad. But I still kind of get sort of "mmm hmmm" feeling whenever I see one of those "Dance party!" cd commercials and they show clips from that era.
* Chokers. Please god, please bring them back. I'm already all Spanish fly for a good neck to kiss on, but having a choker... it's like the neck equivalent of the first time I got to really make out with a girl. So much to figure out! Yes, they do come back into fashion every so often, but they were ubiquitous when I was 17 and therefore will always remain a personal favorite.
* Baby Doll dresses and striped stockings. Anyone remember that look? It was the de facto uniform of weird artsy girls until about 1992, and half of my first girlfriends had at least one variation on this outfit stocked in their closet for emergency situations. It was sooo hot - And thanks to it, Samantha Mathis in Pump up the Volume was damn bootlicious. Similar to how, if you were a guy, and you wore a vest and combat boots, this was the "I'm just like you, let's kiss" outfit of my early kissing days, and I will always love it so.
You know, now that I'm looking down this list, I think it's time to offer a little prayer of thanks: Contempo Casuals, AKA ContempHo Casuals - we knew ye well. Gone you may be, but your commitment to blurring the line between white trash and girl dandyism will live forever in my little pretentious heart.
Hollywood Secrets, Revealed!
Estute and insightful investigative scientist K has revealed the seedy underbelly of La Bella Hollywood. Go there now, and be enlightened.
2/11/2004
Moninoche Monquis
This is how The Hollywood Reporter, the official gossip rag of the "industry", grossly and hilariously misspelled my roommate M.'s name on their "Dear Actor, please subscribe to the Hollywood Reporter" junk mail.
Cue the official music - An Official People's Democratic Republic of Ross Announcement
As I grapple with a couple of important milestones in my life (My logan's run crisis age in April, and recently achived uncle status), I'm forced to reflect on the things I've accomplished, and on the things I've not yet achieved.
First and formost on my mind, the need for official theme music. Face it, we all know that having an official song by which you're identified is important. Just ask John Shaft or James bond. Sure, getting some is really really awesome, but getting some, and having the moment when your seduction is successful overshadowed by the "Da-da da-daaaah!" of your official theme is beyond description. Even better, if someone steps to you with some drama, and you fuck them up old school, the satisfaction of a violent job well done just wouldn't be complete without the music overshadowing your victory.
Of course, as James bond has demonstrated time and time again, one song just won't do. Why rely full time on Goldfinger when you can use "A View to a Kill" from time to time. right? And now that I think about it, we all could use some official theme music. So, given the choice, what would you choose for your theme? The following songs would, I suspect, work rather well accentuating my arrival at an actually fun party, or in tandem with me at some other important moments:
1) "Bust a Move", by Young MC. Ideally, it would start up just as I make eye contact with that one cute girl with glasses and red hair standing by the mini bar. Also ideally, she'll have the "Girls are fakin', goodness sakein', they want a man who brings home the bacon" part of the song memorized. This song has immediate, visceral advantages. EVERYONE knows the lyrics. So much so that it's in direct competition with "Baby Got Back" as a possible replacement for the national anthem, at least as far as the PDROR is concerned.
2) "The Amourphous Humphrey Plug", as performed by Scott Walker. If I could walk into a room as those eeire strings start up, only to be followed by the "Hello Mr. Big Shot... Say, you're looking smart", I might possibly be the coolest person ever.
3) If I ever become deathly ill, I want the song "There is a place in hell for me and my friends", by Morrissey, to follow me everywhere I go. Not only is it really fun to sing, but it would force people to quit pretending that there's nothing worng. I for one hate it when someone is seriously ill and everyone around them tries to act all super nice and normal. I hereby give permission to all of you to make fun of me should I become seriously ill. You can even mention the illness by name. I know I will.
4) It's totally obvious, but whenever the possibility of actual sex comes up, I really would appreciate it if "Do Me" by BBD could be a part of that. Specifically, I'd like the "Tha time/was 6:00 on the swatch watch/no time to chill got a date/can't be late hey!/the girl's gonna do me" part to be playing. That would be so cool.
5) For any official business, I want "Here Comes the Hotstepper", by Ini Komoze. Specifically, I want that "hit it!" to happen as soon as I walk through the door. Then the "Na, na na na naaa, na na na naa na na naa na na naa, na na na naaa".
6) If I could commission official theme music, I want it to be a collaborative effort by Warren G, Snoop Dogg, Nate Dogg, and Dr Dre.
So my question to you all is two-fold:
A) What would you like for your theme music?
B) What do you think ought to be the National anthem for the People's Democratic Republic of Ross?
Word.
First and formost on my mind, the need for official theme music. Face it, we all know that having an official song by which you're identified is important. Just ask John Shaft or James bond. Sure, getting some is really really awesome, but getting some, and having the moment when your seduction is successful overshadowed by the "Da-da da-daaaah!" of your official theme is beyond description. Even better, if someone steps to you with some drama, and you fuck them up old school, the satisfaction of a violent job well done just wouldn't be complete without the music overshadowing your victory.
Of course, as James bond has demonstrated time and time again, one song just won't do. Why rely full time on Goldfinger when you can use "A View to a Kill" from time to time. right? And now that I think about it, we all could use some official theme music. So, given the choice, what would you choose for your theme? The following songs would, I suspect, work rather well accentuating my arrival at an actually fun party, or in tandem with me at some other important moments:
1) "Bust a Move", by Young MC. Ideally, it would start up just as I make eye contact with that one cute girl with glasses and red hair standing by the mini bar. Also ideally, she'll have the "Girls are fakin', goodness sakein', they want a man who brings home the bacon" part of the song memorized. This song has immediate, visceral advantages. EVERYONE knows the lyrics. So much so that it's in direct competition with "Baby Got Back" as a possible replacement for the national anthem, at least as far as the PDROR is concerned.
2) "The Amourphous Humphrey Plug", as performed by Scott Walker. If I could walk into a room as those eeire strings start up, only to be followed by the "Hello Mr. Big Shot... Say, you're looking smart", I might possibly be the coolest person ever.
3) If I ever become deathly ill, I want the song "There is a place in hell for me and my friends", by Morrissey, to follow me everywhere I go. Not only is it really fun to sing, but it would force people to quit pretending that there's nothing worng. I for one hate it when someone is seriously ill and everyone around them tries to act all super nice and normal. I hereby give permission to all of you to make fun of me should I become seriously ill. You can even mention the illness by name. I know I will.
4) It's totally obvious, but whenever the possibility of actual sex comes up, I really would appreciate it if "Do Me" by BBD could be a part of that. Specifically, I'd like the "Tha time/was 6:00 on the swatch watch/no time to chill got a date/can't be late hey!/the girl's gonna do me" part to be playing. That would be so cool.
5) For any official business, I want "Here Comes the Hotstepper", by Ini Komoze. Specifically, I want that "hit it!" to happen as soon as I walk through the door. Then the "Na, na na na naaa, na na na naa na na naa na na naa, na na na naaa".
6) If I could commission official theme music, I want it to be a collaborative effort by Warren G, Snoop Dogg, Nate Dogg, and Dr Dre.
So my question to you all is two-fold:
A) What would you like for your theme music?
B) What do you think ought to be the National anthem for the People's Democratic Republic of Ross?
Word.
2/10/2004
I wonder if we can outsource Jerks?
Well, so much for hopeful optimism. The republican party is officially the party of class manipulating assholes.
WASHINGTON - The movement of American factory jobs and white-collar work to other countries is part of a positive transformation that will enrich the U.S. economy over time, even if it causes short-term pain and dislocation, the Bush administration said Monday.
The embrace of foreign "outsourcing," a trend that has contributed to U.S. job losses and become a campaign issue, is contained in the president's annual report to Congress on the health of the U.S. economy.
-Snip-
"Outsourcing is just a new way of doing international trade," said N. Gregory Mankiw, chairman of Bush's Council of Economic Advisors, which prepared the report. "More things are tradable than were tradable in the past. And that's a good thing."
Ha ha, those wacky republicans, always full of so many hilarious jokes. They really ought to take this one on the road. But seriously, what the fuck does "More things are tradeable" mean? Doesn't the republican party have anyone capable of expressing their poisonous treason at least somewhat eloquently? And besides, It isn't like people a hundred years ago were forced to make due tading rocks and sticks. There have always been lots of things to trade.
Unfortunately, the "things" Mankiw is talking about here are ACTUAL People, and ACTUAL PEOPLE'S livlihoods.
I wonder why these people always seem to have such a cavalier attitude about practices which result in widespread unemployment and shitty economic conditions? Maybe it's because people in the Executive class will never have to worry about outsourcing. They'll always find a reason why, in the face of massive layoffs and a tumbling economy, their services are vital, valuable, and worth millions in bonuses.
I have a solution I think might help. We need to start re-defining this stuff, so that our terms dominate the debate. Thus, in my wholly intelectual and completely mature way, I propose that we stop calling them "Business leaders" and just call them what they are: "assholes".
I mean, wouldn't the following headline just make more sense:
This is going to be fun...
(Found this Link via Atrios)
Bush report lauds 'outsourcing' jobs
WASHINGTON - The movement of American factory jobs and white-collar work to other countries is part of a positive transformation that will enrich the U.S. economy over time, even if it causes short-term pain and dislocation, the Bush administration said Monday.
The embrace of foreign "outsourcing," a trend that has contributed to U.S. job losses and become a campaign issue, is contained in the president's annual report to Congress on the health of the U.S. economy.
-Snip-
"Outsourcing is just a new way of doing international trade," said N. Gregory Mankiw, chairman of Bush's Council of Economic Advisors, which prepared the report. "More things are tradable than were tradable in the past. And that's a good thing."
Ha ha, those wacky republicans, always full of so many hilarious jokes. They really ought to take this one on the road. But seriously, what the fuck does "More things are tradeable" mean? Doesn't the republican party have anyone capable of expressing their poisonous treason at least somewhat eloquently? And besides, It isn't like people a hundred years ago were forced to make due tading rocks and sticks. There have always been lots of things to trade.
Unfortunately, the "things" Mankiw is talking about here are ACTUAL People, and ACTUAL PEOPLE'S livlihoods.
I wonder why these people always seem to have such a cavalier attitude about practices which result in widespread unemployment and shitty economic conditions? Maybe it's because people in the Executive class will never have to worry about outsourcing. They'll always find a reason why, in the face of massive layoffs and a tumbling economy, their services are vital, valuable, and worth millions in bonuses.
I have a solution I think might help. We need to start re-defining this stuff, so that our terms dominate the debate. Thus, in my wholly intelectual and completely mature way, I propose that we stop calling them "Business leaders" and just call them what they are: "assholes".
I mean, wouldn't the following headline just make more sense:
Asshole report lauds 'outsourcing' jobs; just like an asshole would.
This is going to be fun...
(Found this Link via Atrios)
Strictly for my N.E.R.D.D.Z.
Okay, I finally found hosting for photos (Thanks to ES for the assistance!), and can finally reveal to the world what you've been dying to find out: What, precisely, does Ross' new hair look like?
Well first, here's a peek at how I looked until quite recently
and for the record, I did always look gritty and in black and white.
Now ladies and germs, here's the all new, all powerful haircolor, courtesy of the generous efforts of myself, and Angie N.
Glasses removed, for the Ladies of course. Damn. Double damn.
Here's another picture this time with full-on glassesy goodness
Obviously exuding the confidence needed to get ahead. Thanks Clairol!
If you have a microscope or super magnifying vision, you'll see that my hair mysteriously matches my sideburns, something I have never before experinced. Dang that's smoove. The dull glow in each photo is that healthy, go get 'em atmosphere one only finds in the cublice paradises of the modern corporat officescape. Hooray for working!
Finally, BIG ups to my main Home-Girl, the delightful and sassy Geoy Stinson, for the high fashion photography session. She really helped me to bring out my inner tramp, and taught me to "make love to the Camera". Lessons I am sure will serve me well.
*Special props goes to anyone who can identify this line: "But how can I 'make love' to a camera when I've never even kissed a boy?"
Well first, here's a peek at how I looked until quite recently
and for the record, I did always look gritty and in black and white.
Now ladies and germs, here's the all new, all powerful haircolor, courtesy of the generous efforts of myself, and Angie N.
Glasses removed, for the Ladies of course. Damn. Double damn.
Here's another picture this time with full-on glassesy goodness
Obviously exuding the confidence needed to get ahead. Thanks Clairol!
If you have a microscope or super magnifying vision, you'll see that my hair mysteriously matches my sideburns, something I have never before experinced. Dang that's smoove. The dull glow in each photo is that healthy, go get 'em atmosphere one only finds in the cublice paradises of the modern corporat officescape. Hooray for working!
Finally, BIG ups to my main Home-Girl, the delightful and sassy Geoy Stinson, for the high fashion photography session. She really helped me to bring out my inner tramp, and taught me to "make love to the Camera". Lessons I am sure will serve me well.
*Special props goes to anyone who can identify this line: "But how can I 'make love' to a camera when I've never even kissed a boy?"
2/09/2004
Sorry to start the week off on something so heavy, but the Pathetic state of US Journalism demands it
Let's start Monday with something depressing.
Off shoring (as we all know) is the Modern Corporate practice of farming out your labor pool to third world countries, where presumably the rent is dirt cheap and the labor force so unused to such American comforts as "minimum wage" and "worker protections", that you can afford to pay your workers less than the poverty level is here. It's also a serious, dangerous trend that doesn't show any signs of reversal. It threatens the economic health of the US severely, not only because of severely reduced upward mobility and lack of access to entrepreneurial opportunities, but also in that it furthers the concentration of American wealth in fewer and fewer hands.
Instead of getting too deeply into that, I want to discuss what happens when you mention to your average co-worker or friend that outsourcing is a scary development, one we should be working hard to reverse. Often, you're accused of being protectionist, or worse, xenophobic. "What?" they say. "And I suppose that you don't want the people in [insert poor and rightfully in need of business investment nation here] to have access to the opportunities we do?". Well, the answer is Of Course I Do. And I'm sure you all do too. Don't let people throw this meaningless diversion tactic at you.
If you're like me, you're a definite believer in socially responsible capitalism, and the power of upward mobility as a critical factor in the development of stable, democratic governance. The more people have access to a similar system, the better. But a race to the bottom of the wage barrel isn't that system, and it doesn't help anyone. American workers had to fight tooth and nail to stop being exploited like slightly more expensive slave labor, and the result was the most prosperous economy the world has ever seen. It disappointing then that 100 years later, those business leaders who gain so much from association with the US, now resume their battle for the cheapest and most compliant labor force ever, simply by going to other countries where US Labor laws don't apply.
In spite of pro-democracy guilt tripping on the part of enthusiasts for this practice, you'll notice that the third world countries currently assuming the jobs we lose here (while we're informed by our corporate whore politicians that all is well), don't seem to be getting any more democratic. But then again, neither are we, and I suspect this is the point.
You may also be informed by your peer, blithely and disgustingly nonchalantly I might add, that it's an inevitability, given the need to companies to enforce the bottom line and cut costs. Naturally, the question of which costs get cut never gets mentioned. Certain people even advance the horrifying idea that US workers themselves are to blame for their being screwed. If they weren't so greedy the argument goes, they'd work for less.
Of course, no one bothers to ask the same sacrifices of CEOs, Corporations, the politicians in their pockets and the other free market parasites that suck the blood out of this country and call it freedom. No one ever suggests that the skyrocketing compensation for corporate leadership, with no oversight or consequence for failure, probably does more lasting damage to this country then the idea that we ought to be paid enough to afford to live and grow ever will. In fact, correct me if I'm wrong but I'm under the impression that our system of worker protections, the same system which turned depressions from regular occurances to distant memories, is a major foundation of what became the world's best economy.
The absolute worst reaction however, is a sad symptom of our age: Proud, defiant ignorance, or urbane, educated skeptical dismissal. Sadly, this is the standard media pose regarding anything that actually affects everyone outside of Washington DC or the coasts. Reading the papers or watching the news, you'd think millions of skilled, essential jobs aren't flying out of this country at an alarming rate, while meanwhile Emperor Tax Cuts fiddles and our national education system is gutted.
Well, maybe now the media sycophants and urbane acolytes of the free market will do their job and actually bother telling people the goddamned truth.
-----------------
Feb. 9, 2004 | LONDON (AP) -- News and financial-data giant Reuters Group PLC on Monday said it will provide basic news coverage of some U.S. companies from a bureau to be established in Bangalore, India.
It will hire six journalists for the bureau, the company said. They will monitor announcements from 3,000 small and medium-sized U.S. companies.
Do you blasé urban sophisticates get all that? Those are YOUR JOBS TOO. Now will you actually report this as if it's a scary problem, and not just something that happens to the rubes too stupid not to go 40 million dollars in debt to get the education you keep telling us will protect us from this shit?
I'm no expert, but I think a few things might help. Here are some rather rash and likely ill-informed ideas.
We have to stop voting in favor of conservative economic policies, and stop letting people get away with touting immediate-self-interest as a social good. Conservatives are supposed to be the party of restraint, but all they do is tempt people with flashy tax breaks and style over substance policies while letting the country get looted.
They've proven that they're incompetent at managing our economy and our government - their philosophy is simply selfishness defined as the highest value, and it's a potentially fatal error for our civilization. Republicans may claim to be the party of good values, but as they've grown more powerful, our country has become dumber, lazier, and more vulgar. Liberals, I suspect, are just better at running things for the greater good.
What's important to note is that with the really good jobs leaving in droves, American consumer habits just won't support our economy. In addition to supporting economic policies that encourage domestic AS WELL AS international job growth, we need to massively increase funding for education, but especially for science, technical, intellectual, and computing related fields. We're being surpassed in the tech world and medical world by places like India, because other countries are willing to make these sorts of investments, while we seem to think that any request to invest in the future is an affront to your god given rights to avoid taxes and drive SUVs.
This might sound radical, but I think that private schools, at least before high school age, should be abolished, at least until we get our public education system fixed. of course, I realize this is a pipe dream, so let's just limit this to: public schools should be funded evenly. Personally, I'd like to see all funds polled and allotted to schools based on population. There is no reason why living in a poor city should doom you to a worse education than the people in richer communities.
In addition, college should be free, or near free. It's stupid to force people to start off their careers thousands of dollars in debt. And please, let's no one repeat the "Don't get a crappy job after college" bullshit. Scientists and teachers don't make jack shit compared to CEOs, but they still end up with huge debts, just like the business majors. We still, you know, fucking need scientists and teachers. So shouldn't' we do more to make it worthwhile for people to pursue these sorts of careers? They should be paid more, but first, it shouldn't cripple one's credit to get a job that actually has long term benefit for human civilization.
Finally, I want to propose that we establish a sort of Geneva convention of world labor and business to establish these rules, and a body to enforce the laws we create. We need to enforce fair labor conditions as we've grown to expect them here in the good ol US of A - If fair labor standards are enforced, the pressure to exploit and reduce workers and consumers here will drop, and the spread of democracy, rather than corporate feudalism, really will ensue.
Off shoring (as we all know) is the Modern Corporate practice of farming out your labor pool to third world countries, where presumably the rent is dirt cheap and the labor force so unused to such American comforts as "minimum wage" and "worker protections", that you can afford to pay your workers less than the poverty level is here. It's also a serious, dangerous trend that doesn't show any signs of reversal. It threatens the economic health of the US severely, not only because of severely reduced upward mobility and lack of access to entrepreneurial opportunities, but also in that it furthers the concentration of American wealth in fewer and fewer hands.
Instead of getting too deeply into that, I want to discuss what happens when you mention to your average co-worker or friend that outsourcing is a scary development, one we should be working hard to reverse. Often, you're accused of being protectionist, or worse, xenophobic. "What?" they say. "And I suppose that you don't want the people in [insert poor and rightfully in need of business investment nation here] to have access to the opportunities we do?". Well, the answer is Of Course I Do. And I'm sure you all do too. Don't let people throw this meaningless diversion tactic at you.
If you're like me, you're a definite believer in socially responsible capitalism, and the power of upward mobility as a critical factor in the development of stable, democratic governance. The more people have access to a similar system, the better. But a race to the bottom of the wage barrel isn't that system, and it doesn't help anyone. American workers had to fight tooth and nail to stop being exploited like slightly more expensive slave labor, and the result was the most prosperous economy the world has ever seen. It disappointing then that 100 years later, those business leaders who gain so much from association with the US, now resume their battle for the cheapest and most compliant labor force ever, simply by going to other countries where US Labor laws don't apply.
In spite of pro-democracy guilt tripping on the part of enthusiasts for this practice, you'll notice that the third world countries currently assuming the jobs we lose here (while we're informed by our corporate whore politicians that all is well), don't seem to be getting any more democratic. But then again, neither are we, and I suspect this is the point.
You may also be informed by your peer, blithely and disgustingly nonchalantly I might add, that it's an inevitability, given the need to companies to enforce the bottom line and cut costs. Naturally, the question of which costs get cut never gets mentioned. Certain people even advance the horrifying idea that US workers themselves are to blame for their being screwed. If they weren't so greedy the argument goes, they'd work for less.
Of course, no one bothers to ask the same sacrifices of CEOs, Corporations, the politicians in their pockets and the other free market parasites that suck the blood out of this country and call it freedom. No one ever suggests that the skyrocketing compensation for corporate leadership, with no oversight or consequence for failure, probably does more lasting damage to this country then the idea that we ought to be paid enough to afford to live and grow ever will. In fact, correct me if I'm wrong but I'm under the impression that our system of worker protections, the same system which turned depressions from regular occurances to distant memories, is a major foundation of what became the world's best economy.
The absolute worst reaction however, is a sad symptom of our age: Proud, defiant ignorance, or urbane, educated skeptical dismissal. Sadly, this is the standard media pose regarding anything that actually affects everyone outside of Washington DC or the coasts. Reading the papers or watching the news, you'd think millions of skilled, essential jobs aren't flying out of this country at an alarming rate, while meanwhile Emperor Tax Cuts fiddles and our national education system is gutted.
Well, maybe now the media sycophants and urbane acolytes of the free market will do their job and actually bother telling people the goddamned truth.
Reuters to outsource some business coverage to India
-----------------
Feb. 9, 2004 | LONDON (AP) -- News and financial-data giant Reuters Group PLC on Monday said it will provide basic news coverage of some U.S. companies from a bureau to be established in Bangalore, India.
It will hire six journalists for the bureau, the company said. They will monitor announcements from 3,000 small and medium-sized U.S. companies.
Do you blasé urban sophisticates get all that? Those are YOUR JOBS TOO. Now will you actually report this as if it's a scary problem, and not just something that happens to the rubes too stupid not to go 40 million dollars in debt to get the education you keep telling us will protect us from this shit?
I'm no expert, but I think a few things might help. Here are some rather rash and likely ill-informed ideas.
We have to stop voting in favor of conservative economic policies, and stop letting people get away with touting immediate-self-interest as a social good. Conservatives are supposed to be the party of restraint, but all they do is tempt people with flashy tax breaks and style over substance policies while letting the country get looted.
They've proven that they're incompetent at managing our economy and our government - their philosophy is simply selfishness defined as the highest value, and it's a potentially fatal error for our civilization. Republicans may claim to be the party of good values, but as they've grown more powerful, our country has become dumber, lazier, and more vulgar. Liberals, I suspect, are just better at running things for the greater good.
What's important to note is that with the really good jobs leaving in droves, American consumer habits just won't support our economy. In addition to supporting economic policies that encourage domestic AS WELL AS international job growth, we need to massively increase funding for education, but especially for science, technical, intellectual, and computing related fields. We're being surpassed in the tech world and medical world by places like India, because other countries are willing to make these sorts of investments, while we seem to think that any request to invest in the future is an affront to your god given rights to avoid taxes and drive SUVs.
This might sound radical, but I think that private schools, at least before high school age, should be abolished, at least until we get our public education system fixed. of course, I realize this is a pipe dream, so let's just limit this to: public schools should be funded evenly. Personally, I'd like to see all funds polled and allotted to schools based on population. There is no reason why living in a poor city should doom you to a worse education than the people in richer communities.
In addition, college should be free, or near free. It's stupid to force people to start off their careers thousands of dollars in debt. And please, let's no one repeat the "Don't get a crappy job after college" bullshit. Scientists and teachers don't make jack shit compared to CEOs, but they still end up with huge debts, just like the business majors. We still, you know, fucking need scientists and teachers. So shouldn't' we do more to make it worthwhile for people to pursue these sorts of careers? They should be paid more, but first, it shouldn't cripple one's credit to get a job that actually has long term benefit for human civilization.
Finally, I want to propose that we establish a sort of Geneva convention of world labor and business to establish these rules, and a body to enforce the laws we create. We need to enforce fair labor conditions as we've grown to expect them here in the good ol US of A - If fair labor standards are enforced, the pressure to exploit and reduce workers and consumers here will drop, and the spread of democracy, rather than corporate feudalism, really will ensue.
2/08/2004
Sunday, Boring Sunday
Whatever our personal, or collective national sins are, we atone for them by enduring the boredom and insufferable ennui of the day of rest. Sunday seems to exist for the sole purpose of making you feel bored, frustrated and slightly regretful, all at the same time. What the hell Sunday? All I want to do is have brunch, watch the simpsons and maybe hit the nintendo without suddenly being siezed with the fear of abject failure, or worse, the horrible sense that even though I don't rememebr anything bad happening, I somehow managed to make an ass of myself the night before.
Of course, it doesn't help that something I've been plagued by for the last few months does, in fact, still annoy me just a tad bit more than I wish it would. I'd like to say that I'm talking about the cancellation of Firefly, so I will, and all of you will be polite enough to believe me. However, I've been feeliing remarkably well lately, and I forsee a visit to Dr random makeouts at party soon.
In an arbitrary moment of taking the advice of Rogers and Hammerstein, I colored my hair. Until last december, I regularly dyed my hair black, (because naturally, I feel black on the inside), or various shades of darkest brown (A practice which started immediately after seeing The Croupier, starring Clive Owen, about a year and a half ago).
I recently let the real color grow in, but we all know how boring that can be, so in a fit of inspiration I decided to give myself ash-blond hair (AKA blond with the roots showing, skank style). This little experiment failed, but in a wonderful way. I have naturally brown hair, but because God hates me and doesn't want me to have a mustache ever, my facial hair is red and not at all latin looking. Lousy anglo-saxon-german roots. However, thanks to my dying experiment, I can now say for the first time, that Cuffs and Collars match. That is to say, I have red hair that accidently perfectly matches the old sideburns. I can't quite decide if I look androgenously cool, or like L Ron Hubbard.
Maybe I'll put some pics up and let people vote. The length of time I keep this color will likely depend on the Makeouts to Makefuns ratio
For those of you taking notes, the Makeouts to Makefuns ratio is represented by the equation X + K/Z + 1/10Y = +-MM.
That's the sum of the value X, defined as the cuteness of the flirter (measured in how many times one looks from eyes to shoes), and the value K, the number of actual kisses that result from said flirtin, divided by the sum of the value Z, the wittiness or "zing" factor of said fun having been made (Measured in the number of strangers' "oooh Snap"s), and one tenth the value Y, the closeness of the friend's making fun of the new color, (measured in years). The handicap is applied to denominator due to the advantage being old friends gives when making fun.
A positive value results in the hair staying. And also, tired lips.
Meanwhile, I have a request for next week. Please, please let there be a party with actual dancing and mingling. Just something to make me feel that I'm not just passing time until I die, obscure and quite falied. I'll be old enough for Carousel in less than 3 months, and I'd like to think I'm not wasting time that could have been spent working, just on doing what I would do without needing a party, namely talking to my friends and drinking.
This week, I'm going to drop my official imperial "party manual", my rejected and forbidden phrases list (dating edition), and discuss the shadow mall economy. Also, I will check out that one cute girl at the record store.
Of course, it doesn't help that something I've been plagued by for the last few months does, in fact, still annoy me just a tad bit more than I wish it would. I'd like to say that I'm talking about the cancellation of Firefly, so I will, and all of you will be polite enough to believe me. However, I've been feeliing remarkably well lately, and I forsee a visit to Dr random makeouts at party soon.
In an arbitrary moment of taking the advice of Rogers and Hammerstein, I colored my hair. Until last december, I regularly dyed my hair black, (because naturally, I feel black on the inside), or various shades of darkest brown (A practice which started immediately after seeing The Croupier, starring Clive Owen, about a year and a half ago).
I recently let the real color grow in, but we all know how boring that can be, so in a fit of inspiration I decided to give myself ash-blond hair (AKA blond with the roots showing, skank style). This little experiment failed, but in a wonderful way. I have naturally brown hair, but because God hates me and doesn't want me to have a mustache ever, my facial hair is red and not at all latin looking. Lousy anglo-saxon-german roots. However, thanks to my dying experiment, I can now say for the first time, that Cuffs and Collars match. That is to say, I have red hair that accidently perfectly matches the old sideburns. I can't quite decide if I look androgenously cool, or like L Ron Hubbard.
Maybe I'll put some pics up and let people vote. The length of time I keep this color will likely depend on the Makeouts to Makefuns ratio
For those of you taking notes, the Makeouts to Makefuns ratio is represented by the equation X + K/Z + 1/10Y = +-MM.
That's the sum of the value X, defined as the cuteness of the flirter (measured in how many times one looks from eyes to shoes), and the value K, the number of actual kisses that result from said flirtin, divided by the sum of the value Z, the wittiness or "zing" factor of said fun having been made (Measured in the number of strangers' "oooh Snap"s), and one tenth the value Y, the closeness of the friend's making fun of the new color, (measured in years). The handicap is applied to denominator due to the advantage being old friends gives when making fun.
A positive value results in the hair staying. And also, tired lips.
Meanwhile, I have a request for next week. Please, please let there be a party with actual dancing and mingling. Just something to make me feel that I'm not just passing time until I die, obscure and quite falied. I'll be old enough for Carousel in less than 3 months, and I'd like to think I'm not wasting time that could have been spent working, just on doing what I would do without needing a party, namely talking to my friends and drinking.
This week, I'm going to drop my official imperial "party manual", my rejected and forbidden phrases list (dating edition), and discuss the shadow mall economy. Also, I will check out that one cute girl at the record store.
2/06/2004
I, Whore
Yeah yeah, it's another shamelss plug. My weekly radio show is tonight, and if you know what's good for you, you'll listen. As always, click that link, or if you live in LA, turn the dial to 104.7.
Tonight's theme is "That weird dream I had the other night", which was supposed to be the theme from last week. It will rock your socks off, or if you're a girl, your pants off.
I in particular promise not to suck.
To tide you over, here are sexy photos of my co-hosts, Kyle MCDC and DJ Kiss My fist
Yeah, that's hot. H.O.T. Damn.
Tonight's theme is "That weird dream I had the other night", which was supposed to be the theme from last week. It will rock your socks off, or if you're a girl, your pants off.
I in particular promise not to suck.
To tide you over, here are sexy photos of my co-hosts, Kyle MCDC and DJ Kiss My fist
Yeah, that's hot. H.O.T. Damn.
Casanova in short pants
As part of a recent conversation, I tried to remember the first name of everyone I've ever kissed. I'd just like to apologize to "girl at that one party with the Madness T-shirt", "Girl whom I later discovered had a boyfriend", "Girl at that Cure concert in Dallas, 1992", "Girl at the debate tournament from Enid, who bought me a Star Trek Communicator pin for Christmas", "Girl at G.'s party with whom I discussed the Centimeters", "Polish girl in London who worked at the deli and gave me bagels at a severe discount, for NOT kissing you when you totally tried to lay one on me at the Pub", and "Girl at that lake keystone house party from Coweta". Your contribution to my kissing will not go uncelebrated, though you remain sadly anonymous.
That said, I was able to remember the first names of almost everyone. Er wait, let me rephrase. In SPITE OF the prodigiously huge number of people who have desired the kissing stylings of Ross Lincoln and the Ross Tones, I was still able to remember most of their names, going all the way back to 1989, when I got my first kiss with M.B. during the Billy Dee Williams scene in Batman. That's just the generous and thoughtful fella I am.
Here's a queston: what's the ho-ratio of kissing? meaning, how many kisses can you have before you approach ho-nasty territory? Because I really want to start keeping score. For science of course.
That said, I was able to remember the first names of almost everyone. Er wait, let me rephrase. In SPITE OF the prodigiously huge number of people who have desired the kissing stylings of Ross Lincoln and the Ross Tones, I was still able to remember most of their names, going all the way back to 1989, when I got my first kiss with M.B. during the Billy Dee Williams scene in Batman. That's just the generous and thoughtful fella I am.
Here's a queston: what's the ho-ratio of kissing? meaning, how many kisses can you have before you approach ho-nasty territory? Because I really want to start keeping score. For science of course.
2/05/2004
This would have been really useful last August.
This isn't the best idea I've heard on the subject, but it comes a close second. Really, really, really hilarious. Thanks to former imperial advisor Earnest Pettie for the link.
Naturally, they'd need a Playa registry for yours truly, but y'all know how I roll. Heavy Thuggin' it. Fa Reelz.
Of course it's been a while since I've dropped some official state business on the krew, but rest assured that your Emperor knows not all of you have the playa mack down like I do. I've previously proposed legislation that would solve this serious societal problem, and I reprint my proposal here, amended and expanded, for the enjoyment of the citizens of the People's Democratic Republic Of Ross:
Naturally, they'd need a Playa registry for yours truly, but y'all know how I roll. Heavy Thuggin' it. Fa Reelz.
Of course it's been a while since I've dropped some official state business on the krew, but rest assured that your Emperor knows not all of you have the playa mack down like I do. I've previously proposed legislation that would solve this serious societal problem, and I reprint my proposal here, amended and expanded, for the enjoyment of the citizens of the People's Democratic Republic Of Ross:
In the interests of providing for the common defense and ensuring the general welfare, and in the interests of tapping "it", I hereby establish the Department of UnEnjoyment. Since being dumped is lame like being fired, all my citizens who find themselves dumped, cheated on, or otherwise heartbroken can apply for unenjoyment benefits from the state. You will be provided with a state employed girlfriend or boyfriend who will provide any one of the following services:
*confidante
*Hot action
*Appearance at family functions
*sympathetic ear while babbling on the phone
*shopping partner
*beard
We also guarantee "You can't fire me, I quit" beneficiary protections (AKA the Take This Job And Shove It clause). All friends and relatives will be required to believe you when you say that it was "mutual", or that "you don't know what is going to happen". Also, calling dibs on electronic possessions will be sacrosanct and enforced by the police.
These services will be dependent on the nature of the terminated relationship, to be determined by our staff experts. Benefits shall be provided for at least half the length of the former relationship, not to exceed 1 year. Benefits can be extended in times of depression or recession, but all who accept unenjoyment benefits must attend classes on learning how to have game, and provide proof of completion of training. Our citizens must be able to reenter the single world a true playa. Most important: No hating. Only celebrating will be promoted by the DUE.
The Lost City of Atlanta
is a funny episode of Futurama, but isn't really related to the good news coming out of the Peach State.
ATLANTA — Georgia's school superintendent Thursday dropped plans to remove the word "evolution" (search) from the state's high school science curriculum.
"I will recommend to the teacher teams that the word 'evolution' be put back in the curriculum," Kathy Cox said in a statement.
Cox said she originally wanted to replace "evolution" with the phrase "biological changes over time" to avoid controversy.
"Instead, a greater controversy ensued," she said.
Well duh, lady. Why don't these people ever bother to think about the "generating greater controvery" aspect of acting the fool, before they act the fool? That said, this is some pretty good news, which makes me feel better not just because it's a victory for reason, but because I feel like we've been picking on Georgia a lot these days.
I should confess that there's probably a personal side to my desire to pick on Georgia. When I was growing up, I was comfortable knowing for a fact that I resided in the buckle of the buckle of the Bible Belt, Tulsa Oklahoma, the home of Rhema Bible College, Victory Christian Center, Oral Roberts University, Pax, and of course, Carman. Sadly, Oklahoma's days as the end all, be all of the interesting-news generating side of American Religious Life have waned, and it's starting to look like the new King of the Hill is going to be Georgia, or possibly Missisippi. . So to Georgia, potential new capital of the Bible Belt, I salute you and hope for your mercy.
However, I just want to put the Peach State on notice: Be warned that you cannot represent fully until you have some boss praying hands like Tulsa does.
Until then, you'll merely be Byzantine Greece to Oklahoma's Pax Romana. So watch your back.
ATLANTA — Georgia's school superintendent Thursday dropped plans to remove the word "evolution" (search) from the state's high school science curriculum.
"I will recommend to the teacher teams that the word 'evolution' be put back in the curriculum," Kathy Cox said in a statement.
Cox said she originally wanted to replace "evolution" with the phrase "biological changes over time" to avoid controversy.
"Instead, a greater controversy ensued," she said.
Well duh, lady. Why don't these people ever bother to think about the "generating greater controvery" aspect of acting the fool, before they act the fool? That said, this is some pretty good news, which makes me feel better not just because it's a victory for reason, but because I feel like we've been picking on Georgia a lot these days.
I should confess that there's probably a personal side to my desire to pick on Georgia. When I was growing up, I was comfortable knowing for a fact that I resided in the buckle of the buckle of the Bible Belt, Tulsa Oklahoma, the home of Rhema Bible College, Victory Christian Center, Oral Roberts University, Pax, and of course, Carman. Sadly, Oklahoma's days as the end all, be all of the interesting-news generating side of American Religious Life have waned, and it's starting to look like the new King of the Hill is going to be Georgia, or possibly Missisippi. . So to Georgia, potential new capital of the Bible Belt, I salute you and hope for your mercy.
However, I just want to put the Peach State on notice: Be warned that you cannot represent fully until you have some boss praying hands like Tulsa does.
Until then, you'll merely be Byzantine Greece to Oklahoma's Pax Romana. So watch your back.
It's like free money, but in reverse!
Hooray! After nearly 2 years of this thing going around the internet, I have finally started recieving the Nigerian E-mail Scam.
DEAR FRIEND,
I PRAY THIS IMPORTANT MESSAGE MEETS YOU IN PEACE, MAY BLESSINGS OF ALLAH BE UPON YOU AND YOUR FAMILY AND GRANT YOU THE WISDOM TO UNDERSTAND MY SITUATIONS AND HOW MUCH I REALLY NEED YOUR ASSISTANCE.BEFORE I START LET ME TRODUCE MYSELF MY NAME IS MRS. MARIAM ABACHA THE WIFE OF THE LATE AND FORMER HEAD OF STATE OF NIGERIA GENERAL SANNI ABACHA.
SINCE THE (STRANGE AND UNFORTUNATE) DEATH OF MY HUSBAND (MAY GOD'S MERCY BE UPON HIM), THE GOVERNMENT HAS TURNED AGAINST MY FAMILY WITH STRANGE ACCUSATION. AT FIRST I THOUGHT IT WAS A LITTLE VENDETTA FROM MY HUSBAND'S
ENEMIES BUT I WAS WRONG. THEY ARRESTED MY ONLY SON OLD ENOUGH TO TAKE CARE OF THE FAMILY AND THEN THEY FROZE ALL OUR BANK ACCOUNTS KNOWN TO THEM, HOPING THAT WE WILL STARVE TO DEATH. WHY CAN'T WE ALL LIVE IN PEACE? SINCE
I CAN'T DO ANYTHING IN MY POSITION HERE, THIS IS WHERE YOU COME IN.MY FAMILY IS GOING THROUGH HARDSHIP, THE REMAINING ONES AND MYSELF ARE UNDER HOUSE ARREST. THE NEW DEMOCRATIC GOVERNMENT OF PRESIDENT OLUSEGUN OBANSANJO
HAS SEIZED MORE THAN US$88 MILLION DOLLARS ALREADY AND THEY ARE STILL SEIZING A LOT OF LAND AND PROPERTY. ALL THAT IS REMAINING NOW IS US$16.5MILLION DOLLARS, AND THIS MONEY HAS BEEN KEPT IN A PLACE I CANNOT DISCLOSE, UNTIL WE MAKE PERSONAL CONTACT. WE CANNOT TOUCH THIS MONEY IN
NIGERIA FOR YOU KNOW WE ARE UNDER HOUSE ARREST AND ARE BEING SERIOUSLY WATCHED BY THE GOVERNMENT. SO AFTER DISCUSSING WITH MY SON,THIS IS WHAT WE PLAN TO DO WITH THE MONEY, WE PLAN TO SEND IT TO YOUR COUNTRY USING A VERY POPULAR DIPLOMATIC COURIER SERVICE HERE IN NIGERIA. SO THIS IS WHY WE NEED A FOREIGN PARTNER AND YOUR HELP.
SINCE YOU WILL BE THE ONE COLLECTING THE PACKAGE IN THE COUNTRY THAT IT WILL SENT TO, THE SUM WILL BE SHARED IN THREE WAYS. 20% WILL BE USED TO INVEST IN YOUR COUNTRY OR COMPANY AND WHILE 20% WILL BE FOR YOU AND THE OTHER 60%
WILL BE FOR US. IS THIS OKAY? WE ALSO HOPE YOU CAN BE TRUSTED AND THAT YOU WON'T DISAPPOINT US? AND ALSO CONFIDENTIALITY IS EXTREMELY IMPORTANT AND BEFORE I
FORGET ONCE THE SUM ARRIVES IN THE DESIGNATED COUNTRY (WHICH I WILL DISCLOSE TO YOU LATER) WE WILL REQUIRE YOU TO SEND US AN INVITATION LETTER TO VISIT YOUR COUNTRY AND COLLECT OUR SHARE. THIS IS NOT A DEAL OR BUSINESS, IT
IS A CRY FOR HELP. MAY GOD GUIDE YOU. WHEN YOU REPLY PLEASE LEAVE YOUR CONTACT DETAILS, MY PERSONAL ASSISTANT AND FRIEND TUNDE SAMSON WILL RELATE ALL YOUR MESSAGES TO ME, AND IF YOU WISH TO TALK TO ME JUST TELL HIM AND HE WILL MAKE ALL THE NECESSARY RRANGEMENT. AND FOR YOUR OWN INFORMATION THIS MONEY IS DRUG FREE AND 100% RISK FREE. TIME IS AGAINST US, SO YOUR URGENT RESPONSE IS NEEDED.
ABOVE, YOU WILL SEE MY E-MAIL ADDRESS YOU CAN SEND ME A MAIL THERE IF YOU WISH, OR TO DISCUSS ABOUT ANYTHING YOU ARE CONFUSED ABOUT, I WILL EXPLAIN TO YOU.(ladymariam96@yahoo.com)SO MAIL ME IMMEDIATELY YOU RECEIVE THIS MESSAGE.
MAY ALLAH BE WITH YOU.
MRS MARIAM ABACHA
'Bout damn time too. I am gonna get soooo paid. Time for me to finally achieve my dream of being completely blinged out!
But seriously, aren't con artists so cool? They're like the Amway salesmen of criminals. Which brings me to the question of the day: if you could be any kind of criminal in the world, what would you be? And let's have some originality please -let's no one suggest "serial killer". Answer in comments. Word.
I PRAY THIS IMPORTANT MESSAGE MEETS YOU IN PEACE, MAY BLESSINGS OF ALLAH BE UPON YOU AND YOUR FAMILY AND GRANT YOU THE WISDOM TO UNDERSTAND MY SITUATIONS AND HOW MUCH I REALLY NEED YOUR ASSISTANCE.BEFORE I START LET ME TRODUCE MYSELF MY NAME IS MRS. MARIAM ABACHA THE WIFE OF THE LATE AND FORMER HEAD OF STATE OF NIGERIA GENERAL SANNI ABACHA.
SINCE THE (STRANGE AND UNFORTUNATE) DEATH OF MY HUSBAND (MAY GOD'S MERCY BE UPON HIM), THE GOVERNMENT HAS TURNED AGAINST MY FAMILY WITH STRANGE ACCUSATION. AT FIRST I THOUGHT IT WAS A LITTLE VENDETTA FROM MY HUSBAND'S
ENEMIES BUT I WAS WRONG. THEY ARRESTED MY ONLY SON OLD ENOUGH TO TAKE CARE OF THE FAMILY AND THEN THEY FROZE ALL OUR BANK ACCOUNTS KNOWN TO THEM, HOPING THAT WE WILL STARVE TO DEATH. WHY CAN'T WE ALL LIVE IN PEACE? SINCE
I CAN'T DO ANYTHING IN MY POSITION HERE, THIS IS WHERE YOU COME IN.MY FAMILY IS GOING THROUGH HARDSHIP, THE REMAINING ONES AND MYSELF ARE UNDER HOUSE ARREST. THE NEW DEMOCRATIC GOVERNMENT OF PRESIDENT OLUSEGUN OBANSANJO
HAS SEIZED MORE THAN US$88 MILLION DOLLARS ALREADY AND THEY ARE STILL SEIZING A LOT OF LAND AND PROPERTY. ALL THAT IS REMAINING NOW IS US$16.5MILLION DOLLARS, AND THIS MONEY HAS BEEN KEPT IN A PLACE I CANNOT DISCLOSE, UNTIL WE MAKE PERSONAL CONTACT. WE CANNOT TOUCH THIS MONEY IN
NIGERIA FOR YOU KNOW WE ARE UNDER HOUSE ARREST AND ARE BEING SERIOUSLY WATCHED BY THE GOVERNMENT. SO AFTER DISCUSSING WITH MY SON,THIS IS WHAT WE PLAN TO DO WITH THE MONEY, WE PLAN TO SEND IT TO YOUR COUNTRY USING A VERY POPULAR DIPLOMATIC COURIER SERVICE HERE IN NIGERIA. SO THIS IS WHY WE NEED A FOREIGN PARTNER AND YOUR HELP.
SINCE YOU WILL BE THE ONE COLLECTING THE PACKAGE IN THE COUNTRY THAT IT WILL SENT TO, THE SUM WILL BE SHARED IN THREE WAYS. 20% WILL BE USED TO INVEST IN YOUR COUNTRY OR COMPANY AND WHILE 20% WILL BE FOR YOU AND THE OTHER 60%
WILL BE FOR US. IS THIS OKAY? WE ALSO HOPE YOU CAN BE TRUSTED AND THAT YOU WON'T DISAPPOINT US? AND ALSO CONFIDENTIALITY IS EXTREMELY IMPORTANT AND BEFORE I
FORGET ONCE THE SUM ARRIVES IN THE DESIGNATED COUNTRY (WHICH I WILL DISCLOSE TO YOU LATER) WE WILL REQUIRE YOU TO SEND US AN INVITATION LETTER TO VISIT YOUR COUNTRY AND COLLECT OUR SHARE. THIS IS NOT A DEAL OR BUSINESS, IT
IS A CRY FOR HELP. MAY GOD GUIDE YOU. WHEN YOU REPLY PLEASE LEAVE YOUR CONTACT DETAILS, MY PERSONAL ASSISTANT AND FRIEND TUNDE SAMSON WILL RELATE ALL YOUR MESSAGES TO ME, AND IF YOU WISH TO TALK TO ME JUST TELL HIM AND HE WILL MAKE ALL THE NECESSARY RRANGEMENT. AND FOR YOUR OWN INFORMATION THIS MONEY IS DRUG FREE AND 100% RISK FREE. TIME IS AGAINST US, SO YOUR URGENT RESPONSE IS NEEDED.
ABOVE, YOU WILL SEE MY E-MAIL ADDRESS YOU CAN SEND ME A MAIL THERE IF YOU WISH, OR TO DISCUSS ABOUT ANYTHING YOU ARE CONFUSED ABOUT, I WILL EXPLAIN TO YOU.(ladymariam96@yahoo.com)SO MAIL ME IMMEDIATELY YOU RECEIVE THIS MESSAGE.
MAY ALLAH BE WITH YOU.
MRS MARIAM ABACHA
'Bout damn time too. I am gonna get soooo paid. Time for me to finally achieve my dream of being completely blinged out!
But seriously, aren't con artists so cool? They're like the Amway salesmen of criminals. Which brings me to the question of the day: if you could be any kind of criminal in the world, what would you be? And let's have some originality please -let's no one suggest "serial killer". Answer in comments. Word.
2/04/2004
New feature
I just added a FAQ section, over on the right. It should answer many of the questions you've been dying to ask, but have not got around to doing do, due to not really caring. Don't see your question there? Just ask in the comments! As always, I'm here to serve you!
I shill for my main homie
While bored and googling my friends' names, I discovered that in spite of her lack of a website, occasional examples of my freind Tiffany Schmierer's brilliant work can in fact be found online.
Once I'm able to host images on my own, (counting down the time, by the way), I'll post a photo of the Robot she made for me. In the meantime, this is called "Interaction II".
Meanwhile, She really needs to get online pronto.
Once I'm able to host images on my own, (counting down the time, by the way), I'll post a photo of the Robot she made for me. In the meantime, this is called "Interaction II".
Meanwhile, She really needs to get online pronto.
Doesn't Dubya look like he's about to treat that mic to something special? Whoo hoo!
I apologize, that's just not very mature. On the other hand, neither is supporting an amendment to the constitution designed to deny the fucking constitutional rights of nearly 8% of the population because you're so hot for the votes of a bunch of superstitious bigots. Or because you are a superstitious bigot. Whatever.
Unfortunately, just because I'm not a superstitious bigot doesn't mean that this issue is going away anytime soon, even if the state of Massachussets seems to put Smart Pills in their water:
Mass. High Court Rules for Gay Marriage
BOSTON - The Massachusetts high court ruled Wednesday that only full, equal marriage rights for gay couples — rather than civil unions — are constitutional, clearing the way for the nation's first same-sex marriages in the state as early as May.
"The history of our nation has demonstrated that separate is seldom, if ever, equal," the four justices who ruled in favor of gay marriage wrote in the advisory opinion requested by the state Senate.
After seven gay couples sued in 2001, the Supreme Judicial Court ruled in November that gay couples have a constitutional right to marry, and gave the Legislature six months to change state laws to make it happen.
But the vague wording of the ruling left lawmakers — and advocates on both sides — uncertain if Vermont-style civil unions would satisfy the court's decision.
Obviously, I this is *extremely* good, and utterly legally sound news, but the fact is, Massachussets already has, shall we say, a bad reputation amongst conservatives ("Taxachussets", anyone?), and said conservatives will be doing their damndest to set the debate terms against this historic and long overdue decision.
Rather than force a healthy dialogue on this issue, I fear that in the short term it's only going to add fuel to the fire, and drum up the mobilization of superstitious bigots. The result: This historic decision is going to have as much likelihood of changing people's minds as it would if California were to similarly change their laws (Which we should, by the way). The divisions between people in this nation over social and economic issues are as stark and frightingly bitter as they've been in generations, and they're eerily divided geographically. Until there are significant victories in the more, shall we say, hostile-to-change regions of the country, this is going to cause a lot of pain.
The sad fact is that superstitious bigots are going to fight this all the way to the supreme court, and along the way they're going to use this as a wedge issue to take votes away from people whose political ambitions don't include destroying the country. Still, that doesn't mean this isn't right, and as previously stated, long overdue. So for the 10 minutes or so that there won't be bitter and scary fighting over this, let's thank god we live in a country where even the wannabe torquemadas, superstitious bigots all, have to play fair.
What I wonder is, how do histrionic self haters like Andrew Sullivan sleep at night? Don't gay Republicans know that they support a party currently run by Superstitious Bigots dedicated to their own destruction? Or has he been lying to his readers and is actually himself a superstitious bigot?
Greg from the Talent Show has posted lengthy and useful advice for debating this topic over the coming year. I highly reccomend it.
2/03/2004
"Tooo... Blave"
So anyway, It's definitely time for a crush. Nothing too serious, just someone to daydream over in the car, or while reading Hyperion* at your local Eat Well, while listening to the Association. Well, the possibility of kissingness would be rad too, though not a requirement at this point, since what we're really after is capturing a little romantic flair in one's life. The girl I crush on will hopefully:
1) Have colored hair. Not Blond, or purple, since blond is boring and purple clashes with my fantasy pants, which will be crushed red velvet.
2) Have glasses. Molly Fooling glasses. And enjoy wearing them. A lot. And also, think it's cool when two people with glasses kiss and their glass clink together. And incidently, it's so hot when you both stop to take off your glasses and the whole world goes blurry, only, sexfully blurry. Having bad vision is the original burlesque. In fact, I think glasses are absolutely required.
3) Understand why throwing the Spice Girls into a DJ set is a good thing, but throwing Brittney would suck and be really uncool.
4) Have after 2 drinks, a willingness to consider trying to do the Robot. No, not "do" the robot, I'm talking about the dance, stupid.
5) Mix Cds. Seriously.
6) Argyle. And maybe old lady dresses too.
7) Be annoyed by PDA, except when she's in the position to get PDA, in which case she will expect tons of it. Or not. Really, I don't have a problem at all with PDA, and when I can get it, I really like it.
8) No haters. Fa reelz dawg. Playas only.
9) (Addendum) 80's jukebox music, particularly Glen Fry, Bob Seeger, and the citizen Kane of the Genre, Huey Lewis would be rad too.
Also, because I really wish I lived in an alternate universe, it would be really cool if after a certain period of time it turned out that she was a robot or time traveller. I would totally "do" the robot after a few drinks.
Now, to make up for cheerful optimism in this post, I'll end by reminding you all that Janet Jackson's nipples are related to Michael Jackson. Finally, I finally saw the "Hey ya/Peanuts gang" video, and it's really charming. More charming though, is listening to the song, and realizing that Windows media player is still running the mix CD in your computer. Hey Ya is already a good song, but it's even better mashed up with "Send Me An Angel" by Real Life.
*The Sci Fi Novel, not the keats poem.
1) Have colored hair. Not Blond, or purple, since blond is boring and purple clashes with my fantasy pants, which will be crushed red velvet.
2) Have glasses. Molly Fooling glasses. And enjoy wearing them. A lot. And also, think it's cool when two people with glasses kiss and their glass clink together. And incidently, it's so hot when you both stop to take off your glasses and the whole world goes blurry, only, sexfully blurry. Having bad vision is the original burlesque. In fact, I think glasses are absolutely required.
3) Understand why throwing the Spice Girls into a DJ set is a good thing, but throwing Brittney would suck and be really uncool.
4) Have after 2 drinks, a willingness to consider trying to do the Robot. No, not "do" the robot, I'm talking about the dance, stupid.
5) Mix Cds. Seriously.
6) Argyle. And maybe old lady dresses too.
7) Be annoyed by PDA, except when she's in the position to get PDA, in which case she will expect tons of it. Or not. Really, I don't have a problem at all with PDA, and when I can get it, I really like it.
8) No haters. Fa reelz dawg. Playas only.
9) (Addendum) 80's jukebox music, particularly Glen Fry, Bob Seeger, and the citizen Kane of the Genre, Huey Lewis would be rad too.
Also, because I really wish I lived in an alternate universe, it would be really cool if after a certain period of time it turned out that she was a robot or time traveller. I would totally "do" the robot after a few drinks.
Now, to make up for cheerful optimism in this post, I'll end by reminding you all that Janet Jackson's nipples are related to Michael Jackson. Finally, I finally saw the "Hey ya/Peanuts gang" video, and it's really charming. More charming though, is listening to the song, and realizing that Windows media player is still running the mix CD in your computer. Hey Ya is already a good song, but it's even better mashed up with "Send Me An Angel" by Real Life.
*The Sci Fi Novel, not the keats poem.
Yo Chichi Gunns!
Stupidly, I left my play list in Leah's car, and now I'm forced to relate it to you here, from memory. Damn you absent minded Ross! Here it is, in no particular order.
Under pressure
Rebel Rebel - opener
The man who sold the world
All the young dudes
loving the alien
Be my wife
White Light White Heat - (Velvet Underground Cover)
Cactus - (Pixies Cover)
Fake start on covering song 2 by Blur
I'm afraid of Americans
Battle for Britain
Life on Mars
Slip Away
China Girl
Fame
Ashes to Ashes
Heroes
Hang on to yourself
Ziggy Stardust
Suffragette City
5 years
Starman
There were many more, but until I can retrieve my list, this must remain sadly incomplete. Curses!
I took the Gold line from my bland corporate office prison in Pasadena to Union Station in Downtown, where my original plan was to take the #38 bus to the Shrine, where I would meet my friends, bragging rights that result from successful navigation of the LA public transit system safely intact. It rained. A lot. This is important because I had to walk half a block in the rain, to wait under a cold and very shoddy shelter for said bus which apparently wasn't running.
Fortunately, I forgot to bring my umbrella, a good thing because otherwise I wouldn't have been able to wear damp, cold clothing all night long, while the rain flattened my hair. Wearing wet clothes while negotiating Auditorium seating is a sublime pleasure after all, at least in the land without dry booty skin. Which I do not live in. I do have to admit that one doesn't always get to reenact the last stanza of "The Queen is Dead", though it would have been better with a pale English (or English sympathizing) girl to hold onto. Curbside service ala my friend Leah (provider of my free tix) and her homie Nancy ensued, so once again, props to her.
.......................
Anyway, the show. You know it was rad, you know David Bowie is a goddamned genius, so do I need to describe it? Well sure, as I am perfectly comfortable being generic. A few things:
He was wearing a T-shirt that said "Gracias Bushwick". Does anyone know what the hell that means?
Under Pressure was the best goddamned version of Under Pressure I've ever heard. Amazing. His bass player, whose name I believe was Gail Vandersen, filled in for the Late Freddy Mercury. She was amazing, but the brilliance of the performance only underscored what a goddamned crime it is that Freddy Mercury is dead.
Slip Away, the album version of which I'm very Lukewarm about, was incredible. Actual clips from the Uncle Floyd children's show which inspired the song were projected behind the stage, and it gave the song a heartbreak facotr of =17.
An incredible acoustic version of Loving the Alien.
He has awesome jackets, and is extremely limber for a 56 year old man.
The crushing disappointment shared by me and my companions, that even though David stuck to largely important and very high quality material, he failed to play "Modern Love", which I know you're not supposed to like, but we all must admit totally rules.
He has really excellent taste in music. He name dropped several of his favorite bands, and not a single one of them Sucked. The Pixies are "One of the all time great American Bands". Blur are "Phenomenally talented".
During All the Young dudes, he handed the mic to the worst singer ever, who I might add sounded like she was crying, which in my opinion makes her awesome. I'm totally envious of her.
...............................
After the show, I discovered that while Los Angeles has several light rail lines, they don't actually want you to use them. I use the trains all the time, but my only experience with Union Station is to connect from the Gold Line to the Red line. I now know that there isn't a single goddamned sign on the front of the Union Station building which says anything even remotely close to "Use this door if you want to find the MTA light rail system". As a result, I spent a good deal of time walking around in the rain, again, looking for an open entrance so that I could get my coldness back to Pasadizzle, and then Home to Glendale, where I slept the peaceful sleep that a glass and a half of wine guarantees.
Now I've had a bit of a rough go of things lately. Rather than wallow in complaints* and relate all the dumb and self deprecating elements of La Vida del Ross, I'm going to arbitrarily begin 2004 with last night, and assume that the old personal life is about to improve in leaps and bounds. Free tickets and rainy weather shared with good friends is, in my opinion one hell of a good omen.
*I will in fact continue to complain a lot.
Under pressure
Rebel Rebel - opener
The man who sold the world
All the young dudes
loving the alien
Be my wife
White Light White Heat - (Velvet Underground Cover)
Cactus - (Pixies Cover)
Fake start on covering song 2 by Blur
I'm afraid of Americans
Battle for Britain
Life on Mars
Slip Away
China Girl
Fame
Ashes to Ashes
Heroes
Hang on to yourself
Ziggy Stardust
Suffragette City
5 years
Starman
There were many more, but until I can retrieve my list, this must remain sadly incomplete. Curses!
I took the Gold line from my bland corporate office prison in Pasadena to Union Station in Downtown, where my original plan was to take the #38 bus to the Shrine, where I would meet my friends, bragging rights that result from successful navigation of the LA public transit system safely intact. It rained. A lot. This is important because I had to walk half a block in the rain, to wait under a cold and very shoddy shelter for said bus which apparently wasn't running.
Fortunately, I forgot to bring my umbrella, a good thing because otherwise I wouldn't have been able to wear damp, cold clothing all night long, while the rain flattened my hair. Wearing wet clothes while negotiating Auditorium seating is a sublime pleasure after all, at least in the land without dry booty skin. Which I do not live in. I do have to admit that one doesn't always get to reenact the last stanza of "The Queen is Dead", though it would have been better with a pale English (or English sympathizing) girl to hold onto. Curbside service ala my friend Leah (provider of my free tix) and her homie Nancy ensued, so once again, props to her.
.......................
Anyway, the show. You know it was rad, you know David Bowie is a goddamned genius, so do I need to describe it? Well sure, as I am perfectly comfortable being generic. A few things:
He was wearing a T-shirt that said "Gracias Bushwick". Does anyone know what the hell that means?
Under Pressure was the best goddamned version of Under Pressure I've ever heard. Amazing. His bass player, whose name I believe was Gail Vandersen, filled in for the Late Freddy Mercury. She was amazing, but the brilliance of the performance only underscored what a goddamned crime it is that Freddy Mercury is dead.
Slip Away, the album version of which I'm very Lukewarm about, was incredible. Actual clips from the Uncle Floyd children's show which inspired the song were projected behind the stage, and it gave the song a heartbreak facotr of =17.
An incredible acoustic version of Loving the Alien.
He has awesome jackets, and is extremely limber for a 56 year old man.
The crushing disappointment shared by me and my companions, that even though David stuck to largely important and very high quality material, he failed to play "Modern Love", which I know you're not supposed to like, but we all must admit totally rules.
He has really excellent taste in music. He name dropped several of his favorite bands, and not a single one of them Sucked. The Pixies are "One of the all time great American Bands". Blur are "Phenomenally talented".
During All the Young dudes, he handed the mic to the worst singer ever, who I might add sounded like she was crying, which in my opinion makes her awesome. I'm totally envious of her.
...............................
After the show, I discovered that while Los Angeles has several light rail lines, they don't actually want you to use them. I use the trains all the time, but my only experience with Union Station is to connect from the Gold Line to the Red line. I now know that there isn't a single goddamned sign on the front of the Union Station building which says anything even remotely close to "Use this door if you want to find the MTA light rail system". As a result, I spent a good deal of time walking around in the rain, again, looking for an open entrance so that I could get my coldness back to Pasadizzle, and then Home to Glendale, where I slept the peaceful sleep that a glass and a half of wine guarantees.
Now I've had a bit of a rough go of things lately. Rather than wallow in complaints* and relate all the dumb and self deprecating elements of La Vida del Ross, I'm going to arbitrarily begin 2004 with last night, and assume that the old personal life is about to improve in leaps and bounds. Free tickets and rainy weather shared with good friends is, in my opinion one hell of a good omen.
*I will in fact continue to complain a lot.
Waving it in your face, and then laughing.
My Very Good Friend(tm) Leah L, artist, teacher, and all around swell gal used to date a rather reserved but extremely nice Bigshot lawyer type named D.* They inevitably broke up, but Leah later got back in touch with D., hoping to be friends. D., in an ill-concived and unsuccessful attempt at reconciliation, gave to Leah for her birthday 3 tickets to see David Bowie.
YOu'd think this was the beginning of some story guaranteed to depress you, but then, you'd be in the wrong place, because you know what rules about Poor D.'s folly? Long story short, Leah, knowing that I heart David bowie with a quickness, and who I want to add is my new hero, offered one of the tickets to me. You gosh darned right I accepted. So earlier tonight, free of charge, I got to see David Bowie at the Shrine. Needless to say, it was Molly Fooling awesome. Shiva H. Vishnu did it fooling rule.
Tomorrow, expect a complete rundown of events, including for the benefit of my homie Chichi Gunns, a complete playlist. Teaser: it rained a lot. For now, I'm going to have some wine and think about writing an e-mail to someone who greatly deserves one, in less time than it took for me to send the last one.
Yes, I am stealing the first initial only method of identification directly from K, who I might add is the shizzit, but then, she stole it from punch magazine circa 1892, so I'm sure we're both on sound legal footing.
YOu'd think this was the beginning of some story guaranteed to depress you, but then, you'd be in the wrong place, because you know what rules about Poor D.'s folly? Long story short, Leah, knowing that I heart David bowie with a quickness, and who I want to add is my new hero, offered one of the tickets to me. You gosh darned right I accepted. So earlier tonight, free of charge, I got to see David Bowie at the Shrine. Needless to say, it was Molly Fooling awesome. Shiva H. Vishnu did it fooling rule.
Tomorrow, expect a complete rundown of events, including for the benefit of my homie Chichi Gunns, a complete playlist. Teaser: it rained a lot. For now, I'm going to have some wine and think about writing an e-mail to someone who greatly deserves one, in less time than it took for me to send the last one.
Yes, I am stealing the first initial only method of identification directly from K, who I might add is the shizzit, but then, she stole it from punch magazine circa 1892, so I'm sure we're both on sound legal footing.
2/02/2004
Fiddlesticks!!!
Can we be honest? Swearing is really fun. While it's true you shouldn't just throw them everywhere wily nilly, I definitely don't agree that le profanities are generally unnecessary words, because they exist for specific purposes, like describing pooh and hot action. Also, they are very good at expressing utter disappointment. Hell, there's a part of me that still feels slightly dangerous when I drop F-Bomb related programs activities on that ass.
I'd like you to imagine lil' Ross, age 13. He's still kind of chubby, wears glasses better suited for a 45 year old accountant, and owns too many striped shirts because that's what they have at Wal Mart. His idol is Weird Al Yankovic (whom he will meet the very next year during the filming of UHF). He's still 6 months away from deciding that rap music is his absolute favorite thing in the world, and he's so blissfully clueless that he has no idea of how big a nerd he is. Never even having heard of Guess Jeans, he will see classmate Amadi Guess wearing a sweatshirt and assume that it was made specifically for her. Yep, he's that much of a dork.
He also will absolutely, naively refuse to swear, having been raised to be unfailingly polite by his well meaning but often hilarious mom*. Fortunately for our little hero, that summer at Presbyterian summer camp Dwight Mission (in scenic Vian Oklahoma!), he'll be locked out of his dorm until he consents to say the password, which happens to be "Piss ass Goddamned Muther fucking shit". After some deliberation, he gives in, and a love affair with the f-word is born.
Flash forward to the present. As earlier stated, I have an immature love of swearing. I also love the fact that popular music is replete with profanities. Every single example of the hand basket we're all going to hell in is infinitely amusing. That said, it is true that swearing is really fucking lazy. It usually ends up being a replacement for well articulated rage. Personally, I think we'd all be better served by learning Sumerian, or Aramaic. Then when something really chaps our hides, we could damn them to hell old school, and look really literate in the process
Anyway, a love untested is a love unreal, and I now have to suffer from a new office policy. We're no longer allowed to use non deleted expletives in the office. I guess I knew the party had to end someday, but Dang it. This new policy might have something to do with a certain unanimous tendency by coworkers and Rosses to drop the F bomb whenever something is either A) rad, or B) stupid. Oh, and I also enjoy taking various lord's names in vain whenever possible. Take that second commandment!
In honor of our new policy, I'm auditioning replacements for common dirty words and expressions. Any suggestions are welcome and encouraged.
I'm starting with "Mutual Funded"; "Molly Fooler"; "Jarvis H. Cocker".
*Ironically, until 2nd grade, when my mom decided that my sister and I needed more religion in our lives and started dragging us to church, the only time I'd ever heard the phrase "Jesus Christ!" was when my oft blindingly frustrated Dad said it while working on the car, in the yard, or yelling about the door being open. Sure, we knew who JC was, but my sister and I were literally shocked the first few times the Minister (Tom Eggebeen) said anything "In Jesus Christ's Name".
I'd like you to imagine lil' Ross, age 13. He's still kind of chubby, wears glasses better suited for a 45 year old accountant, and owns too many striped shirts because that's what they have at Wal Mart. His idol is Weird Al Yankovic (whom he will meet the very next year during the filming of UHF). He's still 6 months away from deciding that rap music is his absolute favorite thing in the world, and he's so blissfully clueless that he has no idea of how big a nerd he is. Never even having heard of Guess Jeans, he will see classmate Amadi Guess wearing a sweatshirt and assume that it was made specifically for her. Yep, he's that much of a dork.
He also will absolutely, naively refuse to swear, having been raised to be unfailingly polite by his well meaning but often hilarious mom*. Fortunately for our little hero, that summer at Presbyterian summer camp Dwight Mission (in scenic Vian Oklahoma!), he'll be locked out of his dorm until he consents to say the password, which happens to be "Piss ass Goddamned Muther fucking shit". After some deliberation, he gives in, and a love affair with the f-word is born.
Flash forward to the present. As earlier stated, I have an immature love of swearing. I also love the fact that popular music is replete with profanities. Every single example of the hand basket we're all going to hell in is infinitely amusing. That said, it is true that swearing is really fucking lazy. It usually ends up being a replacement for well articulated rage. Personally, I think we'd all be better served by learning Sumerian, or Aramaic. Then when something really chaps our hides, we could damn them to hell old school, and look really literate in the process
Anyway, a love untested is a love unreal, and I now have to suffer from a new office policy. We're no longer allowed to use non deleted expletives in the office. I guess I knew the party had to end someday, but Dang it. This new policy might have something to do with a certain unanimous tendency by coworkers and Rosses to drop the F bomb whenever something is either A) rad, or B) stupid. Oh, and I also enjoy taking various lord's names in vain whenever possible. Take that second commandment!
In honor of our new policy, I'm auditioning replacements for common dirty words and expressions. Any suggestions are welcome and encouraged.
I'm starting with "Mutual Funded"; "Molly Fooler"; "Jarvis H. Cocker".
*Ironically, until 2nd grade, when my mom decided that my sister and I needed more religion in our lives and started dragging us to church, the only time I'd ever heard the phrase "Jesus Christ!" was when my oft blindingly frustrated Dad said it while working on the car, in the yard, or yelling about the door being open. Sure, we knew who JC was, but my sister and I were literally shocked the first few times the Minister (Tom Eggebeen) said anything "In Jesus Christ's Name".
Yay! Comments are fixed!
