Thursday, December 30, 2004
now with "click me!" pop-ups!
again, law and order would have been garbage without lenny briscoe. jerry orbach's work was spectacular, because noth and sorvino put me to sleep in the early days of the law and order franchise. i didn't watch. till of course hetha talked it up and i couldn't look away.
last night gurnifer and i had a few beers, starting at some bar next to radio perfecto with 1/2 price drink happy hour -- i think it was b-side, which is not as filthy as citysearch makes it out to sound--and on to lucy's, where we were the first people in the spot.
the bartender had cbs' entertainment shows, the insider and entertainment tonight. before that courageous model who survived the tsunami and before amber frye's outrage that other people would follow her book deal by trying to capitalize on knowing her (amber, i think your book deal made you open season too), each show did a piece on jerry orbach.
gurnifer and i watched sadly. while she never watched law and order previously, i think she'll be hooked when she turns it on to figure out why myself and her father (and liz's father also) are so obsessed with the show. and briscoe's quips. and the sad moment where he walks through the station with his small box of personal belongings, hunched over, his fellow detectives giving him berth.
My sibling is going to dominate south east Queens' rap game. from massachusetts. just letting you know.
echo, i am allergic to nuts. such as almonds. however, small amounts don't seem to bother me as much as they used to, so when i saw the package upon arriving home, i put your lip balm on. it is pepperminty. pretty solid. and my lips haven't blown up like jay-z so i'm straight.
check out Political Site of The Day and the bloggable OC, while you're at it.
if you want to get in on the question asking bit, read a few posts below and ask thre questions, give your suggestions.
i love little darlings, but i feel dirty watching it. honestly, tatum o'neal and kristy mcnichol are really pretty. and the movie has a grad from my high school, ms. cynthia nixon.
1. What makes Sammy run?
2. Will I actually get my arse out of bed today (gotta love the wireless)
3. Why can't I think of a third question?
1. sammy runs because sammy has legs, verve, and a place to go.
2. yes, because you have to go to the bathroom. and get a fresh drink.
3. because you're poor and thinking of mvp baseball, how you are going to make the paw-sox a minor league powerhouse.
good suggestions. i don't know none of that stuff. bollywood westerns? i'm all on it. do you have a copy?
1. what made you want to leave NYC when you were 18?
2. if you were forced to up and leave the lower 48 and never return, where'd you go?
3. and why?
1. at 18 i was sick of one sided arguments with liberals crazier than me. plus i didn't want to go to east coast schools where i would often run into kids from my high school, still competing, still measuring themselves against me. i wanted to be more on my own, to reinvent myself.
2. i like canada. or buenos aires, argentina. maybe spain. maybe sierra leone. never return? let's say argentina.
3. canada b/c i have fam up there and i like toronto and nova scotia; argentina b/c gully sold me on it; spain because i've always wanted to go since i saw a picture in high school that was, i think, a mountain of old gilded cups plus i want to go to san sebastian (thanks, hemingway); sierra leone b/c i have been around many sierra leoneans and i want to see where they come from. but i'd want to return.
before we enter the ought-nickel, i think we should take a moment and reflect upon the past year, set up resolutions for the next, and think about standardizing a national curriculum that reminds people about that whole "church and state" thing and the whole "why the wacky puritans sailed the ocean blue" and the whole "reading the effing constitution" thing--
sorry. no, that's not today's topic. it's all about the party; starting with paradise hotel dave's tonight. and pixel's tomorrow. and el-d's party, and g-ball's affair, and the rocker greenberg's, and maybe affordable justice's evening of rock and roll--
too many choices.
the important thing, as always, is to be with good friends when the year turns over, and to have a bangin' ass time, letting yourself say all the silly things you've been thinking sans a cover charge or therapy fee. for me, new year's involves staying up all night; i've done it for probably ten years straight and i see no reason to stop now. whether my make-out tradition happens is another matter; while enjoyable, the new year's kiss is not an absolute requirement. without the kiss, in fact, the evening is lighter and more carefree and y'all know i am lying my ass off right?
but i should see many of the friends-- gully, silver, nathan, j-fieser, pixel, gurnifer, and of course rini, of course!; maybe raycroft, nicky marie, and rou-rou, holiday and arroz, affordable justice and garth, abberts and g-ball, nascar and eben, misanthrope and anna-lu, electric erica and fuzzy sweater, schnapp, and everyone else who is in town (hetha? mike?).
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
Friday, December 17, 2004
answers to the questions. please, ask some more below. and dani-- breathless is one of my favorite movies.
to silver/ monkistan:
p.s. we all know aspen extreme is secretly the greatest peter berg movie of all time i don't care what he directs or stars in.
1)If cats can climb tree, and monkees can climb trees, why don't I know where to go tomorrow.
2)Why is it sunnier in the winter than in spring.
3)Would I be taller?
1. because you have been staring at a computer all day + you have an opposable thumb and no tail. i mean it, you need butt implants.
2. the spring brings rainy weather patterns to the east via clouds. water starts to heat and rises into the cold part of the atmosphere where it freezes and melt, and becomes engorged sun obscuring clouds. there is less to fall in the winter; it takes a little moderate "warmth" (high 20's- 30's) to generate clouds and snow. here.
3. if you thought taller, sammy davis jr.
p.s. why you gotta be right? and where's the book for me, "she's that into you?"
1. Will you find me a cute sweet boy to kiss?
2. How would you describe me to your friends?
3. Do you think you'll ever really leave new york?
1. possibly, possibly not. you are your own agent in the attempt to make out. and if you will not use whiskey based sedatives, i can't promise anything. and sweet? that's hard to find. except in me, of course.
2. smart, sweet. cute. nice eyes. talks in a cutesy voice so she can insult you. brown. huggable.
these are some good ol' questions. and the reverend horton heat? a blast from the past!
1. How much did your novel resemble your own life?
2. In which red state would you most likely want to live, and why?
3. What do you want to accomplish by the time you turn 30?
3. the novel has to come in part from my life and my experiences-- i'm not that inventive, really. this one has elements of my life, twisted a bit. the heart of it is a frustration and loneliness of new york, especially when a person arrives here, and that is very much from me. the reactions (and the stuff i am going to add to the novel over break) are more allegory than reality.
3. tough question. but i am always thinking of moving. i know missouri from school (so likely not) and i'm always curious about texas. but i have always liked arizona, enjoyed my week there, and may look for jobs there while in the southwest (hopefully) in march-- wedding with ms. echo, and ncaa basketball tourney watched in sin city (*you should come up for that!)
3. i'd like to find a woman who is that into me. 30's only a year away... so i'd like to have published a story somewhere, finished a novel i am proud of and maybe shopping, paying off my loans, improving my credit. and when i turn 30 i'd like to have a spectacular badass party.
1: if you are able to download the song above, will you give me a copy? I can't find it anywhere
2: where do you shop? I love that outfit!
3: who cuts your hair?
1. i certainly will. which anna is this?! who is willie hutch?
2. the lab coat? you'll have to come to florida. it's pretty stylish.
3. me. my shears and a mirror come together to highlight my well shaped head.
Thursday, December 16, 2004
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MARGE!!!! YOU'RE OLD.
so i have a final tomorrow. i need to study. so my blogs of my semi-adventures are limited. i will say this much: i will post a couple of pics from last saturday later. sunday i spent on the group project. monday, a presentation with my yearlong group project team. plus a pension analysis/ paper written in about an hour and a half. tuesday, a cost management presentation that was more comedy than substance. also had a drink with a young lady.
today i procrastinated and loafed-- have a 20 page paper and a test to make a crib sheet for (tonight). so i swam some laps:
2 x 50 free (fast warmup)
4 x 100 breaststroke (medium/ fast. stop laughing, marge)
2 x 50 free (medium)
2 x 200 breastroke (medium)
2 x 50 free (medium)
i need to do more laps.
then i watched a NYU women's basketball game. the women lost to baruch college, of the cuny system. the NYU women were ranked #1 in division III. but no baruch fans stormed the court. it's not every day that you can see the #1 team in the country knocked off, live.
ran into miles-- tall 6 foot 6 cat from the university-- on campus, walked and talked and drank coffee. i made him laugh. i was a counselor for an orientation program miles was in (eben was a counselor back in the day too). miles, he reminisced about the letter i wrote to all of my incoming freshmen. it was long. pages long. probably handwritten. he wondered what i wasn't doing with my time to write a number of these (though i only had 4 to do, and i wanted the kids to have a human touch).
so it's late and i am futzing around again. so i will thief this from greg. send your friends over or something, i like more suggestions:
(A) First, recommend to me:
1. a movie:
2. a book:
3. a musical artist, song, or album:
4. a song to download:
(B) I want everyone who reads this to ask me three questions, no more, no less. Ask me anything you want.
(C) Then I want you to go to your journal, copy and paste this allowing your friends to ask you anything.
Monday, December 13, 2004
the holiday bazaar at minisink went decently, we could have had more foot traffic. the vendors/ entrepreneurs were satisfied, and we (okay, they-- i'm pretty much done with my work for the non-profit already) learned a lot for next year's attempt at a holiday fair.
the space however... wouldn't use it again. i chose the spot because we were in a crunch and all of our other spaces had fallen through. but something just didn't sit right the whole time. perhaps it was the basketball floor that was covered in strips of black plastic matting, matting that buckles and leaves gaps and moves with the motion of feet and tables-- creating the kind of gaps that trip elderly women.
perhaps it was the fact that we had been promised 2-3 people to set up our event for us, but walked in to find that not only had the tables not been set up, they had not been brought down, and only one man was working in the whole place. a sweaty and strained hour later, the other man who works at the non-profit, myself, and tyrone at minisink had brought in enough tables (and half tables, and small tables) to cover our vendors' needs.
or perhaps it was the discovery that the spot didn't have all 40 long tables we had been promised. and the tables that were available were located in the basement and the second floor for a ground floor event. hence the aforementioned sweat. and this seems to be a systematic problem-- tyrone told us that the man we had made the arrangement with often over-promises equipment and such that the facility doesn't have, or doesn't have available.
it was spacious, and we didn't have to take anything down, but still...
i will update you on carrie k and paradise hotel dave's party in a day or so but i will tell you that bacon was sizzlin'. i don't think either eats bacon, though.
Saturday, December 11, 2004
today is the holiday bazaar -- i have been helping with the planning of this thing for the past couple of months and it's exciting to see if it pops off. the non-profit hopes it goes well; they do business services and loans for small businesses and this should be a chance for said small businesses to see that together they're heavy. i hope it goes well if for no other reason than to justify the 2-3 hours of my life i listened to this old ass fool tell me about his barbecue style and how people from different african nationalities are a certain way.
(if you're in the area, 142nd street and lenox avenue, minisink townhouse-- we'll be inside)
michael-- i ran into your lady, whatshername. i mean... damn, whatshername? meghan's friend-- abby. yes, abby. she has a grey streak in her hair and it's lovely, she is planning on going to graduate school in creative writing, and she doesn't read your blog. i suppose that means she don't read mine, so i can safely say that when i shuffled off the subway, weighted down by my laptop-in-backpack, i wasn't clamoring for more time with those ladies.
time to finish my lovely dinner of ham and mustard on onion bagel and get my five hours sleep. at the end of tomorrow i hope to tell you about how i dropped it like it's hot with the help of caroline k (roley on the arm), heather (pouring chandon), and morgan (my best weed), and craig (got it going on).
Friday, December 10, 2004
in the fields with machete
Originally uploaded by picodulce.
last night while out with g-ball, hj, and morgan (who needs a nickname. can't have two morgans), the kids asked what i looked like with a machete in my hand. this is the only pic i found, from last year, headed into the florida field to chop some weeds.
Wednesday, December 08, 2004
1. happy birthday to my mommy!
2. happy retirement to my daddy!
3. congratulations on poshie's engagement!
4. i meant to include a few weeks ago, when i went out with raycroft , that i loved meeting lee. i only wish they made her in a "single" model.
5. welcome heather rochelle and morgan to town; it's on tomorrow night! uhm, after class.
p.s.: congrats to tijuana on her appearance as the rehab doctor on law & order: SVU, where she read that cracked-out ho the riot act. and ice-t got the baby from said cracked-out ho.
Sunday, December 05, 2004
gully, i am sorry we called you from the ace bar screaming about the sex that shall make marriages invalid. you see, laura and i had made peace and all, starla was happy and hyper, lauren was silly, her joel was having a good time, and the other fellows-- jacob and the rest-- were buying drinks with finance money. you know how that ends up.
with ivo writhing on the pleather chair and giggling as we tickled her. but that was wrong, and we were kind of filthy. for that, i apologize. but belly was showing, an invitation if i have ever heard one.
with your friends hollering things you barely understand just to prove that we are still out here and having that old new york happy hour time.
i got home not too late, still tired as i had been when i left my evening group project meeting, my bag heavy with swimming gear and notebooks. me, trudging along empty streets, aglow, seeking pillows and sheets.
i should apologize for arroz the rice-a-homie and myself on saturday night; we had been surrounded by our children from the summer camp and the adults who made them, uptown, in the 140's off of broadway. the locale was the size of an apartment, crammed with the whole family, no room to move, no room to sit and eat the sierra leonean food, no way to avoid being bumped by dancing women, moving to the singer/ bassist in the middle of the room, plucking her bass while her head wrap stayed perfectly still.
it was a cold evening, i had been doing homework and the rice-a-homie had just finished his LSAT's. we were tired, itchy, and being stuck on the west side highway with carline, who had been part of camp with us, and carrie (who cringes when she admits she's from st. louis), who is the new social services coordinator for the organization. gurney told us to get off the west side highway, and we did, with a lurch and a screech that is familiar to people who have driven with arroz.
riz noted that he and i together are... our own planet or filthy non-sequiturs.
miles stopped over, and there were more non-sequiturs.
and at holiday's holiday party, we kept it up, drank the green apple low carb bacardi silver (ok, we let other people drink it), enjoyed the crush in the place. sarah had the music poppin', girl sammy came late, boy sammy made friends, we closed the place down, stumbling out and onto the highways, careening to my outpost of the city, for 3 hours sleep and a morning meeting which was all numbers and "cost drivers."
i apologize to rini for calling multiple times; abberts appeared at the party through some confluence of events, and gurney was next to me, and we just wanted to say happy birthday and we're all together in one place, missing our curly-haired shevirini. but carrying on, on dance floors, resting on beds, looking out over flags and rooftops in the dead still cold, passing time as best we can.
Friday, December 03, 2004
thanks to the scarlet pimp for pointing this one out: Scalia Says Religion Infuses U.S. Government and History
with this excerpt:
In the synagogue that is home to America's oldest Jewish congregation, he noted that in Europe, religion-neutral leaders almost never publicly use the word "God."
But, the justice asked, "Did it turn out that, by reason of the separation of church and state, the Jews were safer in Europe than they were in the United States of America? I don't think so."
Scalia told them that while the church-and-state battle rages, the official examples of the presence of faith go back to America's Founding Fathers: the word "God" on U.S. currency; chaplains of various faiths in the military and the legislature; real estate tax-exemption for houses of worship - and the phrase "under God" in the Pledge of Allegiance.
Last year, Scalia removed himself from the Supreme Court's review of whether "under God" should be in the Pledge of Allegiance, after mentioning the case in a speech and complaining that courts are stripping God from public life.
"None of this is compatible with what we say when we express the so-called principle of neutrality," Scalia said.
here is a bit on the non-separation of church and state in Nazi Germany.
Thursday, December 02, 2004
but i got an email from my old peer counseling friend emily, back when i was the warm and fuzzy head of a team of warm and fuzzies. i was the co-coordinator of the school's peer counseling group. i know you're imagining the damage i could inflict on my fellow high schoolers, the perverse leering-- but i am a sweet, gentle, kind young man. i was even more so as a high school senior. a patron saint of the disaffected. a warm heart in a cold cold world. a shining light-- let me stop.
but every time i would think i should stop encouraging people to get in touch with their feelings, or telling them that they will be all right; or every time i thought i would never make it to college, that i would be an abject failure, there was emily. who would simply have faith that i couldn't suck at what i set my mind to.
hopefully i will get to hang out with emily. she is superspectacular.
Wednesday, December 01, 2004
oh, anna benson, it's going to be a fun couple of years, even if your hubby stinks on the mound (the world has been promised a damned good pitcher and kris benson is just rounding into shape). but anna... oh anna. suppositories up kris' ass? uncalled for.
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
Let's all just take a moment
for this to sink in.
*Her name is being withheld to
"respect her privacy," and the crunk
rapper's publicist and label rep declined
to comment at all, but word is that
a woman actually exchanged vows with
the chalice-toting producer Lil Jon in Puerto
Rico Saturday at the Wyndham El Conquistador
Resort and Golden Door Spa in Fajardo,
near San Juan. What?!?!
According to MTV, the rapper
barked "I do" under a white columned
canopy in front of around 80 guests
on a field overlooking the ocean. The
mystery bride was reportedly dressed in
a Monique Lhuillier gown; the groom in
a white tuxedo. Three bridesmaids were
said to have worn mauve, while the
groomsmen wore white tuxedos.
An early-evening reception was
held poolside and an afterparty jumped
off later in the upper-level ballrooms
of the resort's Grand Hotel. Usher and
Snoop Dogg were among the rumored
witnesses to the nuptials.
from the EURWeb.
Monday, November 29, 2004
Saturday night—good times with Silver and your friend Chris. I’m wierded out about people who went to school in the deep south but he’s cool. I do have to say I was a little perturbed by your friend Julie. Lovely, lovely young woman but I hate people who “young” me once they find out I am a few years younger than they are. I think I do it myself, and I now plan on stopping.
Thursday, November 25, 2004
from Frank Rich's NYTimes article:
It's beginning to look a lot like "Groundhog Day." Ever since 22 percent of the country's voters said on Nov. 2 that they cared most about "moral values," opportunistic ayatollahs on the right have been working overtime to inflate this nonmandate into a landslide by ginning up cultural controversies that might induce censorship by a compliant F.C.C. and, failing that, self-censorship by TV networks. Seizing on a single overhyped poll result, they exaggerate their clout, hoping to grab power over the culture.... It took a British publication, The Economist, to point out that the percentage of American voters citing moral and ethical values as their prime concern is actually down from 2000 (35 percent) and 1996 (40 percent).
To see how the hucksters of the right work their scam, there could be no more illustrative example than the "Monday Night Football" episode in which Ms. Sheridan leaped into the arms of the Philadelphia Eagles wide receiver Terrell Owens in order to give the declining weekly game (viewership is down 3 percent from 2003) a shot of Viagra. From the get-go, it was a manufactured scandal, as over-the-top as a dinner theater production of "The Crucible."
Rush Limbaugh, taking a break from the legal deliberations of his drug rap and third divorce, set the hysterical tone. "I was stunned!" he told his listeners. "I literally could not believe what I had seen. ... At various places on the Net you can see the video of this, and she's buck naked, folks. I mean when they dropped the towel she's naked. You see enough of her back and rear end to know that she was naked. There's no frontal nudity in the thing, but I mean you don't need that. ...I mean, there are some guys with their kids that sit down to watch 'Monday Night Football.' "
Yes, there are - some, anyway - but you wonder how many of them were as upset as Mr. Limbaugh, whose imagination led him to mistake a lower back for a rear end. (He also said that the Sheridan-Owens encounter reminded him of the Kobe Bryant case; let's not even go there.) The evidence suggests that Mr. Limbaugh's prurient mind is the exception, not the rule. Though seen nationwide, and as early as 6 p.m. on the West Coast, the spot initially caused so little stir that the next morning only two newspapers in the country, both in Philadelphia, reported on it. ABC's switchboards were not swamped by shocked viewers on Monday night. A spokesman for ABC Sports told The Philadelphia Inquirer that he hadn't received a single phone call or e-mail in the immediate aftermath of the broadcast.
Wednesday, November 24, 2004
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
marge would be jealous. it's been a long drinking weekend. nathan was in town, i hung out with boy sammy, and the third part of the Oregon Boy Scout Raid radio triumvirate was in town for beers last night.
it's also been a long work/ school week and my novel is pretty much D.O.A. ah well. we'll see what i can get done...
one thing though-- is anyone around tomorrow night? i am going to victor + flor's gathering (you might have met them... might not. gully's friends) and i won't know anyone. i need a wing-person. please? please?
Tuesday, November 16, 2004
can anyone tell me why all my posts are italicized? i can't figure out where i dropped an "< i >" tag incorrectly. but i don't have time to figure it out for a while... and also, i looked. like in spaceballs, "man, we ain't seen sh*t!"
thanks to silver and eben, enjoy peja drobnjak's sonics site. he was a center for the seattle supersonics and now for the atlanta hawks. and his site is hilarious. click on drobn-smack to hear him say "tonight, your uniform will be wet with the tears of sadness!"
Sunday, November 14, 2004
He was damn crazy. And he birthed some babies. And he made one of the best... or most insane rap albums, N***a Please.
I hope it wasn't the cocaine that cleaned out his sinuses , and everything else. I also hope there is an archive or three of crazy-ass Ol' Dirty songs that leap across the line of "adventurous" into "sick and twisted."
from the song, n***a please:
I'm immune to all viruses
I get the cocaine it cleans out my sinuses
Just for slinging *nuh* I get a quarter a mil
I'll have it raining ice drops the size of automobiles
Kill all the government microchips in my body
I'm the paranoid n***a at your party
I kill all my enemies at birth!
Shut the f**k up!
Bitch and let my slide my hands up your skirt
Friday, November 12, 2004
i was thinking about the furor over john kerry's "nuisance" statement.
it's not a particular touchstone to mark what went wrong, but here's the quote that didn't bother me so much:
''We have to get back to the place we were, where terrorists are not the focus of our lives, but they're a nuisance. As a former law enforcement person, I know we're never going to end prostitution. We're never going to end illegal gambling. But we're going to reduce it, organized crime, to a level where it isn't on the rise. It isn't threatening people's lives every day, and fundamentally, it's something that you continue to fight, but it's not threatening the fabric of your life.''
organized crime is a good analogy. on the first link, a small victory, there is a long discussion which actually goes from the "kerry's an idiot" rantings of people who had long ago decided they want to stroke george bush gently, to the substance and heart of kerry's words. organized crime was a scourge. politicians could be bought. blocks of ozone park here in queens would be much safer because the mob bought influence and policemen, who would also look the other way depending on the crime and criminal.
that affects the fabric of the city, creates a shadow government with no accountability to the people the mob affects. and the work of dedicated law enforcement, along with the aging and obsolete community-based structure of the mob made them an annoyance.
[--read jerry capeci's mob column here--]
terrorism was an annoyance, despite what the above link says. there are extremists and crazies in the world. they kidnap and murder and we keep fighting. we won't just waltz into the mid east and suddenly eliminate terrorism. kerry wasn't saying he thought terrorism was a nuisance. it's a problem. isn't the goal to have a goddamned end to the "what's our threat level" terror battle? it should be the kind of thing the president worries about, the military strategists worry about, while we walk around all blissful, watching skinny singers on television and eating ourselves tubby.
if we're thinking "kill kill kill!" how will we know when we're done?
especially if what we're worried about is not the state itself, like the soviet union, but the actors who are raising multinational terrorist regimes. if saddam and osama were opposed to each other, as seems to be the case in this letter attributed to bin laden, then the enemy isn't saddam but something shadier, more below the surface.
iraq gives a launching pad for US operations, but also increases the the number of people who see the US as an invader, while increasing the importance and influence of small terrorists. effective terrorists, but small terrorists. if we eliminate the head of the most established terror network, and remain vigilant for new terrorists coming to fill in the vacuum, and don't extend our troops to the point of fatigue, terrorism will be... just a nuisance.
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
to the novel,
plus a new mix cd.
and when you're freaking out about your homework, putting together an event, and attempting to write on the side, hearing this:
It is clear to me that in light of the work already completed and the quick time frame that it was completed, that we will most definitely complete all three (3) of the projected desired outcomes, including number 3 (*******). We had initially discussed not completing them in we ran out of time, but that would not appear to be the case. Please note time frames for this in your workplan.
I have very specific hourly total requirements for what I understand from ****** as far as how many hours each of you must work on this project. I want to make sure that you all reach this goal.
from a project we are working on, a project where
*you have yet to agree on a work plan;
*when we have agreed on a degree of "as long as deadlines are met" autonomy;
*when we had previously agreed to not require specific in-office hours unless necessary;
*when we are well ahead of schedule;
*when this email is sent outside of protocol (to the whole group not just the assigned contact);
*when this email is an out-of-nowhere bitch slap on a project we're ahead of time,
makes a fella want to use the business end of a baseball bat in ways not intended by the manufacturer. damned micro-managers.
as we all know, american troops are working hard to make iraq safe for democracy, or really, capitalism. i do hope tghat when this is all said and done, if it is ever done, that many people will have the opportunity and education to take advantage of all the iraq will have to offer. maybe when we're done rebuilding the schools (thanks for reminding me, j-rich) and the roads, and the power, and the food-generating capabilities, the iraqi people won't ask themselves if they've traded one devil for another.
to put it another way-- let's invest in the new iraq! i can smell the tax breaks already. all we have to do is come up with a good plan and get some willing, out of work americans to be our bodyguards and take bullets for us.
like damon wayans once said, mo' money, mo' money, mo' money!
the procrastination is strong in this one.
while i should have been re-learning all sorts of analytical tools, and about cost management, i took a late run into manhattan,
where i ran into a computer lab to deliver copies,
and over to pianos to check out raycroft's friends in the band Y. while they are of the indie rock/ new wave sound that i am getting damned sick of the band was good. we got hushed in the middle of the show:
-(skinny woman puts her arm around me) excuse me, are [myself/ raycroft/ rachel/ elana] rock fans?
-*something incomprehensible* and the singer is a friend of mine.
-that's cool, we're just enjoying the--
-i'm sure he'd love you to listen.
and i would have told the women i'm too old for this "rock and roll respect" crap, but they were in their 30's, damned bitter rock and roll lifers. and no, raycroft is not my "babe," don't let anyone tell you different.
p.s. from the illadelph daily news: o canada, we secede to thee.
p.p.s. it's condeleeza rice cold out there, damn!
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
the lowest divorce rate in the union-- and therefore, the people who uphold marriage the most-- is the everybody gets their rights, like i thought we agreed in the constitution, state of massachussetts.
and one of many ridiculous (yet funny) rants out there.
gully mentioned to me how much he dislikes internet beef. i think it's mostly silly myself, but i was excited when the previously mentioned sebas and "the general" mentioned me on their weblogs. aww, how sweet! it's not the love that my imaginary friends new top and que sera sera get, or the loser who stole a post from pixel and posted it as her own, but it's cute.
however, i do take issue with something the general said. here is a comment i left on sebas' blog:
"hey, sebas, have a go at commenting. it'd help if you were creative. and spelled "pseudo" right. how are you going to get your point across if you can't spell, and you always write drunk? try using "dirty sanchez" or "feltching" next time."
to which the general posts (read here).
funny, because i don't disagree with all of his politics. besides the spelling, the obnoxious gonzo style is tired, it's volume over substance. it's like an MTV VJ yelling about the good time they're having and the camera zooming in an out on some nubile teenager, but the crap they are playing is objectively limp music. i think he saw my comment on scarletpimp's site.
as for his commentary, well.
1. kerry, as i stated later in the post, wouldn't have the chance to be an activist president. especially in terms of his supreme court posts. with a republican majority in the senate, he couldn't get anything but a slightly liberal judge in there. that's obvious. i don't even know why people think kerry would be such a far left president. he was nominated by the Dem Committee because he was more of a centrist than Dean.
2. we in the populous "blue states" are the people who should be afraid. let's look at new york. after all, if you actually look at a map, or come to new york, queens is across the water from manhattan. not much water. on september 11th, no one could get around the area. people in brooklyn and queens were covered in falling ash for days. we WORK in manhattan. brooklyn touts being the 4th largest city in the nation at 2,465,326, queens is physically bigger and in terms of people, not far behind at 2.2 million (but we don't woof about it enough to have it published).
the airports are in queens. there are many brown people in queens. if there is another al qaeda attack in the states, maybe it will be somewhere different; but one never knows. we've got a 30 mile radius of densely populated suburbs, filled with people not just important to the US as people, but also the financial heart of the nation. as DC is the political heart of the nation.
ergo, much bigger target....
3. my imaginary friends are quite nice folks. but i can't find time to write on a saturday night. i do see people, i don't have a cat, i do eat lunch and write my blog, i don't watch the transformers (but i was thinking of making a starscream outfit for halloween. just to go "megatron! megatron!") darth vader? son, where do you get this stuff?
Monday, November 08, 2004
good times were had on saturday w/ raycroft, his cousin dylan, and thorne (college people, you remember him?) at a "it's going to be ok" party down on the lower east side. i think i might have agreed to go dancing with some kids who i met, too. i don't know how that happened. i don't remember saying "say, i'd like to go dancing!"
in other news, thanks to schnappie for bring this to my attention-- the US Postal Service and the band, the Postal Service, in a promotional agreement.
Saturday, November 06, 2004
this morning i found myself out in the cold for hours, loading up boxes into my father's mammoth dodge ram. it couldn't have been more that 45 degrees. i blew into my fingers, wrapped in baseball gloves. crawled along the truck bed to secure items. taught myself what i think is a hangman's knot. looked into the sky and tried to locate constellations i knew in my youth, standing next to boxes and a file cabinet, lovingly roped into place. i wished my father adieu, and my brother and mother who are accompanying him south, as if on a life changing journey (into the redlands?), then i realized i promised raycroft that i would meet him early.
it's midday. early didn't happen.
marge, i know you have cindy visiting-- she's really freakin' cool, isn't she-- but don't get all filthy with her. she might slap you. actually, i think she'd laugh. have fun! and be nice, not the suckass cloying sycophant you tend to be.
Friday, November 05, 2004
damn, one more political comment.
watching this latino fella on a talk show. two good points:
1. again, bush voters feel that kerry said what each audience wanted to hear. he's a senator. that's what they do.
2. the idea of a volunteer draft is a funny thing. i've often thought that a major issue facing us is less of race and more of class. that the "back-door draft" idea is supported-- who joins ROTC, who joins the reserves? people looking for some extra money for school, on weekends. there are ample benefits to be had. as well there should be. these cats have their lives on the line.
but rich kids don't need these benefits. middle class kids don't need their benefits; they have their college loans paid off, a safety net through their parents and extended family. but scraping by is scraping by-- it's not having extra income to support your wayward 19 year old, not stellar college material son, the one who didn't attract the attention of schools with their SAT scores or social service commitment. and even some of those who do attract that attention can't pay for it.
hence, ROTC. the army reserve. it's great that they're doing it for the country. but bush and most senators (i believe one has a son in the army) don't have children there but are sending our troops out. my cousin is in iraq (again) and i hope she doesn't get killed. and i hope that the administration sits down, gets new cabinet members who think ahead, try to improve the world instead of making us scared. and stop intellectualizing and hiding the costs of war.
war is messy. but it's upsetting when it's close to you. and when your commander in chief is very eager to send people into harm's way-- with the idea that anyone will be showering our troops with gifts and hookers.
p.s. i promise to talk more about parties and the novel from here on out. nah, i'm pulling a WMD. you know, overestimating. read from the CIA, right here.
Thursday, November 04, 2004
i just spent half an hour while the OC is on talking with my cost management professor, who is right in the middle of the fence. and an economist. who pointed out something i have hated to admit-- while we were riding high as kites in the late '90's, bill clinton's SEC should have stepped in and done something about inflated IPO's and about Al Qaeda, who were attacking at the time (remember, the USS Cole). and perhaps would have left a better legacy. i disagree that he was the consummate chameleon but he did drift from side to side to make sure he was popular--
which is, in a sense, what a leader should do. but not what our modern leaders need to project.
i have no problem with bill, because i am a new yorker and it's true, we're fag-loving service-expecting city folks. which is different morally than some people; and we are often concerned with being magnanimous, with dialogue, with being intelligent and well thought out.
it's our country too. and in the next few years, as we make more balanced yet, as we make still-incendiary documentaries, as we try to pull the nation in general to a more leftist ideal, we have to temper our optimism and ideals with the idea that there are people out there who place high importance on moral value--
and we have to let them know that we do too.
Gothamist, you are great, for exposing me to a site devoted to mocking the NY Times wedding announcements -- another example of how ridiculously elitist and status conscious the NY Times is.
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
there is a lot to say about the election, but oh crap kind of does it.
not that i thought that kerry would make great changes, or last a second term; the senate and house would stonewall him in the same way they stonewalled president clinton. it's okay to have opposition; we're not all the same in this country. but it is not okay to have an activist president who wants to insert an interesting, warlike, old school God, "I am right and you are not" into the proceedings-- you know, the big guy he talks to on affairs of war.
whose voice sounds ridiculously like dick cheney's?
there are the domestic issues -- the economy that neither candidate could really change (but it would be nice to leave some cash in the coffers, especially when in a long, protracted elective war), the tax cuts whose effect we can't agree on, civil liberties issues, the legislation of marriage institutions...
but, looking at the red states and the blue states, i can't get past the fact that all the attractive targets are voting blue, democratic. those diverse metropolitan areas? blue. except for texas, and florida. we're the people who should be afraid.
and while the rest of the nation is posturing on being tough on terrorism from their cul-de-sacs, w is stirring up more terrorists in iraq. where were those iraqi terrorists before our occupation?
for the guy who will likely write a moronic comment (wait for this one, folks, it'll be funny), i am not a "kerry-style pseudo intellectual whiner." i am my own whiner. not as loud and crass a whiner as you. but this nation-building crap has never worked. see: central america, vietnam, koreas. it works even less when you try to impose our democratic, judeo-christian values on an islamic nation whose non-violent members aren't hot on American influence. aren't they people too?
kicking osama's ass? good. getting him out of afghanistan, a nation that did support al-qaeda? good. overthrowing saddam? a distraction when we could try more subtle or better planned methods to keep down terrorist threats. the axis of evil? rogue nations? polarizing, simple-minded ideas made for sound bites, spin meisters, and people whose sole purpose in life is to think they kick ass.
whichever. this is barely a political blog. but i live in an actual threat zone and i don't want more people trying to come up with ingenious ways to blow me up. we could have taken the threats on in a systematic way.
hey, anyone want to guess what w will do with his four more years?
really, i think we will perservere. we'll maintain our dominance in the world. because we are huge. that terrorist guy could never take our freedom. none of them can. there have been terrorists for years and years. the original AD 200 christians ran around in caves and hid their faith. we've fostered terrorist regimes to fight the soviets. israel has been dealing with terrorist with a lot less than we have. emerging nations deal with chaos all the time, struggling, as we should, to maintain what makes us great and appealing in the first place. not our huge cocks, but our actual freedoms of expression. for all people.
they can only goad us into using our power like a big slab of meat. into losing our legitimacy, which a few years ago would have afforded us to easily obtain-- or shame and cajole-- the rest of the world into making the middle east a more secure place.
they can only goad us into being scared of each other. into increasing our polarization within and without, and into taking out a few of our and their citizens while sending us home years later asking what happened.
and they are doing a good job.
we'd still be at war with kerry in office. it's funny that people think he's so different than bush (and his people who have the actual opinions); he would never be able to push forward a completely liberal mandate. he would be able to get our reservists some help, calm down fears of our imperialist desires, and perhaps reach some resolution-- versus a war with no exit strategy, a vietnam-esque quagmire that was brought up in some circles prior to the decision on iraq.
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
the internet is a wonderful and entertaining place to catch up with your friends, and make new buddies. but when some asscrack from georgia, some sarcastic and angry fucker, some guy who i think is trying to joke in that vice magazine sort of way, but isn't very funny, assaults your friend in commentary, that's not very nice. some of you know her, some of you don't, but hear me out.
take a moment out of your day. read this post and the rest of Sebas' blog (real name is apparently Sebastian Daskawicz-Davis and he goes to Georgia Tech, according to his shirt. he obviously does not get enough head. hence the anger at women and the puking.)
it is not right for a person to drop nasty commentary and not catch some shit back his way. so, marge, silver, eben, pixel, new top, brown boy, marla, annas, nate, raycroft, gully, et cetera, please look at his blog. laugh. maybe leave a mean comment. whatever the humorists' corollary to baby fat is, there's a lot to poke at. have a go at him. like his two friends do when he's drunk.
obviously he needs the attention. so maybe it's not even worth your time.
6 am found me cursing the radio and the dark, wondering exactly why i was so dedicated to early voting, and what was on my radio. apparently it was this don imus fellow in the morning; i had never forgotten to reset my radio from a football game to news radio in the AM. but mr. imus is a bit of a kerry partisan, so it sets a good goal.
the polls were busy but not as hectic as they probably are in manhattan. everything moved smoothly, and it's kinda cold outside.
now i can't sleep but maybe i will take my lightly sore throat and my four hours of sleep and actually start my novel, hoping that what comes out doesn't belong in the turd pile.
Monday, November 01, 2004
november 1st and i am consumed with doubt. my novel already feels corny and i have yet to write a word. i am stuck in hypotheticals and can't get myself to do. and not just with the novel, of course; i feel swamped in classes and in my internship and i have no idea how to categorize things to make them better.
this, my friends, is why i want to leave the city and live on a farm. upstate. with a tractor and a snow plow.
thinking that spelling it out in public would make me feel better, i started this post. didn't help. i'll take the rest of my time to announce two things:
1. the novel has started. check out pieces of it on this site.
2. i am hoping to have guest bloggers rant about... whichever. i've tapped arroz the rice-a-homie's sister, who i will refer to as kiri until she comes up with a cooler or dorkier handle.
3. saturday night i didn't make it out to many places-- getting around was slow. but i did hang out with ray ray and her sister sarah (say-say?) and their friend caroline at kash-money's gathering.
of interest to gully-- as we were ending our night on the confusing and loud corner at lafayette and houston, where the puck building's party was letting out noise and chaos, i ran into mariella. it was 4 in the morning (3 adjusted for daylight savings) and we went on a half hour trek in search of a gary party. he'd left but we made nice with the kids.
Sunday, October 31, 2004
As you may know, it is said that the Washington Redskins' final home game before a presidential election determines whether the incumbent or the challenger in the election will win. If the 'Skins lose, the challenger gets in.
Score: Green Bay Packers 28, Washington Redskins 14. Holla!
Friday, October 29, 2004
i think i may stay home on halloween. eben has me convinced. just too much trouble; like him, i have been busy all week; and i am having a hard time getting excited about the parties this year. i'd love to see g-ball and ray-ray is supposed to come on up to party, too. and i still can't get excited.
my costume lays in a fanciful arrangement in my imagination. plus the prospect of walking home saturday night/ sunday morning with a costume in my neighborhood? there might be an early tricker out, it is a neighborhood filled with kids and teenagers, after all.
but if i go out, i'd like to thank gully for the halloween costume link. seriously, those costumes are funny as hell. i may dress up as the littlest prisoner at abu ghraib.
p.s.the end of this week's smallville, with the prison riot that consisted of hardcore prisoners chucking toilet paper and old men being beaten by riot cops, all to jimmy eat world's pain? i think they should have dropped the pretense and just had them all fondle each other in the bathhouse. same effect.
i was very upset with myself, my laziness, my lack of energy, my failure to get much done (besides commune with kiri the red-a-homie and her baseball-loving roommate katie) when i came home. i was listening to mixes i had made and even getting upset over those. this song could have gone there. that was the wrong minus the bear song to use for so and so person.
i could have kicked me. but i flip on the television and note that there's the daily show (bad for the spirits in this political season-- too much pandering and shadiness on both sides); and there is an HBO special documenting a photobook of porn stars, clothed and as if by magic, unclothed in similar positions. it's a cross-section of young and old, mainstream stars and male-male stars, superstars, implants and natural. and it was interesting, interspersed with commentary from a guy from the village voice, one from page six of the ny post, and john waters.
all of this was to talk about how porn has become normalized but is still on the edge of things-- these people are shut out of mainstream movies but the women use porn to travel as featured performers. best line, from john waters: porn beautiful is below new york beautiful and then below LA beautiful.
how i rationalize porn and christianity? not quite sure yet, and that's a complete other blog. but there's a thought process-- if i am not coveting, if i don't watch so much that it affects the rest of my life (like marge does) and what i watch doesn't change my actions or moral fiber, then what's wrong with it?
but even better-- army of darkness on the sci-fi channel. watching a man fight himself on a cheap blue screen and other cheap effects... always good for the mood.
Thursday, October 28, 2004
you know, last night red sox victory was about as exciting as watching the braves in '99 or the padres in '98 go meekly into the cool october night. which is good; i don't want any members of the nation to spend time in the hospital before they tear out boston brick by brick, cobblestone by cobblestone.
speaking of which, i missed the f**king eclipse! half asleep and procrastinating with law and order.
anyway, how were the celebrations? remember, kids, the face boston puts on is also reflects on a certain state senator, so play nice! or go wreck texas. eugene, i have never seen so many exclamation points. ever.
and on the flagrant side, check this post from today's soxaholix, with the line:
"It's like that moment when a woman bends down and unbuttons and unzips a man's pants; there is such a feeling of providence somehow."
that about sums it up.
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
but what will john kerry be able to do anyway? with a partisan, frothing, activist republican congress, and an activist supreme court against him, kerry will have an uphill battle in any policy he'd like to implement. the health care ideas? that won't happen. rolling back tax breaks? curtailing corporate welfare and abuses? ensuring some form of social security?
will any of it fly? perhaps we need four more years of misery and a moron presidency to remind us that bush and his conservative allies are out to hoard cash and have no understanding that people die when you go to war, and that war changes very little. just the faces, just the names. anyway, cheney won't run in 2008, bush won't be able to, so it can only get better.
then i think about president ashcroft. running against the vilified senator hilary clinton.
i'll vote for kerry.
an aside: i like the "activist judges" phrase the republicans levy against democratic candidates, stating that they would install judges with progressive ideas. you know, like interpreting the law to answer questions we haven't yet come to.
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
late evening tired my back hurts.
i was swimming, thinking of how major league baseball is looking for names for the new washington dc ballclub (who were the old expos. they don't want to carry the name since the team was named for expo '76). according to ball wonk, they are considering appropriating the name of the classic negro league team, the grays, perhaps. here are my suggestions:
++the washington cattle call-- imagine a logo with a woman draped across a steer. not such a good idea? how about:
++the washington coon skinners -- a logo with a man with a racoon slung over a shoulder and a baseball bat in the other hand (what, you thought i'd go somewhere else with that one?); or:
++the washington armor chinks -- perhaps a logo with balls spraying at a medeival helmet (maybe the mascot could have his helmet half off-- and look! it's saddam hussein!); or:
++the washington gay congressional shower head -- 'nuff said.
p.s. if you're bored, slap bush! courtesy of val from stl.
sorry. yesterday's was too long.
i just had a little bit of buckley's cough syrup. maybe you have heard the spartan commercials; my mother loves this stuff. or maybe it's my canadian uncle (apparently it's made in mississagua, where my uncle lives). my word it tastes like musty feet with a minty aftertaste.
but they're right, it works pretty well.
Monday, October 25, 2004
1. Misanthrope Anna guided me in what is part of my resolution for the year (not the calendar year, it's started at an arbitrary point)-- to actually eat Japanese food. Thing is, I had tried Japanese food three times in my life-- once in high school with Paula (the HS kids will remember her-- silent, Finnish, kind of crazed, had a thing for black men with jail time under their belts) and her family. Where I promptly got sick. I attributed it to being a little tired and the possibility of shellfish in my meal;
Once in college with Arroz the Rice-a-Homie's family, and I attributed not liking the food to the fact that we were in St. Louis, where everyone crows about the food... a little too much for the overall quality.
And I forget the third time.
But Anna-Lu will remember that I avoided Japanese food at all costs; really, I would have been willing to try it if my possible "I don't like it" response would not have been met with "you don't know what you're talking about," as it had in the past with other people. After all, I am me, I know what I like.
I broke the seal a little with Starla/ New Top/ and Pixel, I think, walking in on the end of their dinner; and once with the Rice-a-Homie and his l'il chippie, Dizzy Riz, when J-Rich and Val were trying to tear down the town a few months ago.
On Friday Misanthrope Anna dragged me kicking and screaming-- okay. It was entirely willingly. We went to that place whose name I forget, north side of St. Marks, super packed all the time. All I have to say-- it was hella hella good.
No, really. That's the end of the story.
2. Saturday I woke at the crack of dawn. That might be the first time I'd seen the dawn all year, except when coming home on the 4.18 Long Beach train after a night of excessive drinking and unsuccessful skirt chasing. It was dark. I was tired. I sat in bed and listened to the radio until I realize that time passes when you sit in bed.
I had promised G-Ball that I'd come to midtown and help with some school painting-- her company was participating in a NY Cares project and she was running the site. I like painting and afterwards, I could walk around the city and tell people I did something more productive than watching college football. It was fun. You should do it next year. You too can Jackson Pollock your pants and leave flecks of paint on your face, scrub your kicks with turpentine, and remember why you liked that little G-Ball so much.
But then it's 1 pm and I have nothing to do; Cappy and A-alike are not home; I can't sit in a bar alone. It's too late to catch the first movie of the day and the second gets out late afternoon. I'm not going to the many strip clubs and porn stores in the area, I just ate lunch, it's too cold to walk a promenade, and my bag weighs 20 pounds.
3. So I call Mr. Raycroft.
Who is doing his own good deed, delivering a found Blackberry to its owner at the Rockefeller Center Dean & DeLuca. She turns out to be a small sweet woman who loves his Bush/ Cheney pin. Just joking. It was a Kerry/ Edwards pin, and I bought one in the basement of Rockefeller Center, after we walked through the Democracy / voting exhibit in the area-- it's pretty cool.
On that pin-- obviously made by Republicans, the front fell from its pin twice. So if you see said front-- in blue, a stronger America-- in the hookah place on Houston, it's yours.
Raycroft and I then tried to find a Nanowrimo meeting in the Forest Hills Barnes and Noble-- no success-- went back to his place to play FIFA 2004; and then went into town to watch baseball with his work friends.
Here, I should have gone to have dinner with Cappy and A-alike or gone bowling with Nascar Anna/ Eben/ Silver/ and all those hockey kids. But finding a Red Sox bar was a little too exciting of a prospect. The Red Sox bar (the Hairy Monk) spilled over to Fitzgerald's across the street.
Where Raycroft, George, Rachel, and Alana (sp?) had a good old time. Even though Alana was not into baseball. And George is a fellow Met fan! As bad as I am! Rachel is pretty into the Red Sox for a Jersey kid. It was good times, and Brooklyn, please welcome Alana into your ranks. Meeting her was creepy, though, since one of my main characters in my Nanowrimo story is to be named Alana. But my character is from Minnesota, so there.
4. Down on Houston, where the overdressed hipsters blow, I found myself slipping behind a belly dancer to get to and from a bathroom. Cappy, A-alike and their friends Tu, Sharif, and some other guy, were enjoying the show and drinking some hot and bizarre tasting drinks with their hookah smoke. Remember the pin? This is where I last saw it.
And then we went to Max Fish which was... frightening. crowded, same as it ever was. I half expected to see Silver in the back playing pool and Jo-Go talking to Julie trying to get the nuts to say "how 'bout it, girl? I'll take you to California, if you know what I mean." I did of course see two WU'ers, a redheaded kid named Marni and a bony kid named Deb who I remember being really funny.
No, this set of tales has no end. I have work to do. Go work on your novel. How was bowling?
I will end with this-- I am eating a banana that leaves me intimidated.
Thursday, October 21, 2004
i hope steinbrenner doesn't go on a firing spree.
i wish there was a bar/ club that the sox knew they were welcome at where all the yankee haters and sox fans could buy them a beer, maybe shake papi and cro-mag's hands. and let derek lowe know that met fans are nicer, and our park is huuuuge, no worries about homers. and our infield is getting better.
on the phone with neverecho last night i got a scary coughing fit. this has got to stop, but the doc i saw said i was fine... three days ago. you know what? i need a hug. preferable from an impressionable woman for whom "hug" involves "nudity." marge, put the wig away.
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
wow. that's all i have to say about the red sox. and those classless yankee fans showing their anger-- oh no, we're not winning? let's throw our cell phones and baseballs on the field! shouldn't have been out that late last night and my eyes are bleary but hey, i think it was worth it.
tonight, it's on.
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
like hethalouise, i still believe. i still believe. i still believe.
and i will more often read soxaholics. almost as good as bat-girl, who still loves her papi and anyone who lays the 2 x 4 to the yank-these.
if you haven't heard, the red sox have unbelievably walked a razorblade thin line, looked over the precipice, and remembered they do-not-give-a-f**k. down 3 games to 0 to the hated yank-these, they re-measured their sacks and played some actual baseball, despite the worst efforts of their starting pitching to do otherwise-- except for derek lowe, surprisingly.
the loud bomb in this resurgence (which this gentle writer hopes continues with mr. schilling pitching in the rain and muck, bite plate in his mouth when his new reebok shoe --ode to the shoe here-- doesn't stop the ankle pains) has been david ortiz, the genial and fun locker room also known as papi.
since an inquisitive mind can find anything online, i found a forum of twins fans talking about papi. he was the DH in the metrodome until they let him go; last year with the red sox, he played well and this year he isthe hard hitting 41 home run, 139 rbi plausible MVP candidate that co-powers the sox (where have you been manny ramirez?) what's funny about the twins is that they let him go in part for financial considerations and in part to let mienkiewicz and matt lecroy play.
i think i saw different games than they did; papi might have struck out a few more times than i would like. he got injured a few times. but damn, when he hit the ball? that thing starts bouncing. you've seen the man, he is the reincarnation of the man who ate mo vaughn. he cannot run, as evidenced by his stolen base (where he was safe) last night. but he hits doubles. that means he is killing the ball. smooth stroke, great power...
i could have told them he'd be the man.
it's wet and damned chilly out hear. weather that reflects bad moods. so i am adding a couple of hot things for you to do:
1. check out tiny mix tapes, brought to you by my dear friend neverecho, who introduces me to everything that is cool. it's an automatic mx tape generator, online. make your own mix tapes! see others!!
2. you're writing a novel in a month. yes, you. uh huh. check out nanowrimo, the world's best non-contest. i did it two years ago and missed the 50,000 word target last year... but it's not as hard as you think it will be. and it doesn't have to be good; the idea is that you spit out lots of words and at least you have something to edit, versus the mealy-mouthed whining that goes on inside your head.
3. while we're at it, g-ball is running the fed reserve's nycares day. interested in painting a school early on saturday morning? i am, and gurney should be in on it too. public service makes you a good person, and less of a selfish alcoholic than you were.
Monday, October 18, 2004
it's a silent week, been working on school project work. my group doesn't annoy me as much. i've been coughing and a little tired.
but the most notable thing (besides samantha's party last week being really fun as far as dinner parties go) is that now that i am shaving, keeping the facial hair down, people routinely tell me i look 18. good lord. maybe i should grow the facial hair back, but i like being clean...
Saturday, October 09, 2004
last night we found ms. new top in the wilds of brooklyn; and went to moe's bar in fort greene. along the way, or really, downstairs from thoren's apartment, we found mike, hetha louise's soon-to-be boyfriend-for-life. we dragged him to moe's too. pixel was there, jamie was there, sixo was there, silver was there.
when we got to thoren's place, we sat and watched the end of the debate. on the floor next to the television were cd's, and curious to find out more about this fella, i took a look--
and saw a cover that is familiar because i have tried to place it for years. the image of the dark skinned singer and her braces and punked out natty hair was just as i remembered it-- it was the x-ray spex, the green cover, the band and album name i could never remember. mostly because i thought the title was teenage adolescents, which i knew made no sense when i asked everyone i knew if they knew the tune.
listening to a song only once sometimes leaves and impression in my head, defined, sharp, but not sharp enough that i can recall what the song is so i could buy the album. i thought i had honed the skill well- watching 120 minutes every sunday night before pulling all nighters to finish monday's homework. picking up song titles on the radio. thinking up possible titles after hearing the chorus of an unnamed song.
the same thing happened when i saw pearl jam's alive video, before it became popular; i walked around school singing the song appropriately mushmouthed. cas-nice and regina had no idea what i was talking about.
the one and only time i heard the x-ray spex was on the floor of maya's apartment-- and not the tall maya descha and craig know, a small cute kid who hated being called maya the bee, like the cartoon. it was one of the first times, and perhaps the first time, i had gotten good and drunk. off of wine coolers. it was 1991 or so, hanging out with ellen and whoever else we were friends with back in the day. it was a foggy night and maya's apartment looked over the emptying streets at 77th and lexington, as i stumbled over words and hummed along to the song "germfree adolescents," yelling things into the other room.
being that the song itself is fairly mellow i never linked it with loud punk rock; ellen didn't know the five words of the song i knew, nor did abe, veronica, or any of the other kids i walked up to. i must have sounded like a dealer-- "hey, hey, man, listen to this-- you know this song man?"
i did forget about looking for the song but it's the kind of tune that finds its way into your head yearly-- simple, sweet, obviously sloppy but intentionally so-- so sloppy it feels genuine, sharp. i don't listen to much of the punk rock and late 70's imported british music. it's only these days that i'm going back to the clash (and the bay city rollers, but that has nothing to do with this conversation). but the not knowing felt like a little gap in knowledge; and i take my music identification seriously.
and 13 years later, it's on my laptop. hot.
Friday, October 08, 2004
so i am coughing up a lung and all. but i am getting better. i went to book club last night with nicky marie and her friend sue (everyone else was sick. not that i know everyone else) and we swapped books. that's about all i have to say.
but you, dear readers, can give me your opinion on what makes crazy women crazy, and when crazy becomes too crazy. i am giving my opinion to nathan on the subject but it's always nice to have some other objective ideas...
that means you, michaels.
Thursday, October 07, 2004
yeah, i been lazy. or busy. i think i have been busy. but i have been doing my homework between sneezing and coughing bouts (i might have to get that checked out at school, get some top medicines to kick this... possible flu?).
and writing a little. you will join me for the national novel writer's month, the best non-contest that i and other people have told you about. yes, even you, silver, even if you're not listening. sign up at the link above.
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
being a policy and management institution, we tend to talk about the popular ideas in management and leadership, such as being innately in touch with yourself. personally, i like to not be in touch with myself-- i feel better when i think less.
so i was overjoyed, of course, when a piece of our senior project was moved up to this week-- a re-introduction to myers-briggs personality test. it's a popular personality test that most of you likely know-- then again, they don't give those things to art students, do they? anyway, it's designed to ask you a bunch of questions and pigeonhole you into a number of categories and describe the level to which you are each type-- whether you are introverted or extroverted, a senser or an intuiter, a thinker or a feeler, a judger or perceiver. okay, just take a sample test here.
for example, i am a sensitive ass wimp. i am an INFP:
Idealistic, loyal to their values and to the people who are important tot hem. Want an external life that is congruent with their values. Curious, quick to see possibilities, can be catalysts for implementing ideas. Seek to understand people and to help them fulfill their potential. Adaptable, flexible, and accepting unless a value is threatened.
A certain reader is an ENTP:
Quick, ingenious, stimulating, alert, and outspoken. Resourceful in solving problems. Adept at generating conceptual possibilities and then analyzing them strategically. Good at reading other people. Bored by routine, will seldom do the same thing the same way, apt to turn to new interest after another.
according to that online test, i am also:
• moderately expressed introvert (44%)
• slightly expressed intuitive personality (11%)
• slightly expressed feeling personality (11%)
• distinctively expressed perceiving personality (67%)
basically, a big ol' waffler.
this annoys me, the self-analysis. i'd rather get work done than sit around talking about our feelings and tendencies, because i don't care and i don't care for them to know. i don't need to be reminded that my tendencies probably lead me to a career in writing or counseling or something else that would be poverty-making, depressing, difficult to sustain—i'm risk-averse.
and of course i hate talking about such profiles for what happened afterwards. i walked by my old hs classmate karen and one member of her group project. i was telling karen how much i disliked MB and her friend asked my type, responding immediately with "we wouldn't get along." which is what administerers of these tests tell you not to do-- jump to conclusions about the person. i'm all over the place and i think at times i act like a different person (who would have guessed me introverted?).
we weren't meeting so i took a walk to the pool when class was done and swam a little-- just enough to realize i haven't swam (swum? a little help, editors) all summer. my wrists hurt, my palms got weak, my arms were fatigued from the get go, and i left the pool empty in the stomach.
that's the way it's supposed to be. so i stopped at school and watched some intramural basketball. it was fun. when i should have wished nicky brooklyn happy birthday... but she'll forgive me.
the worst thing about late night television is that at 2.00 am you can have finished watching spaced on trio and of course a little blind date and elimidate because, hell, you ain’t getting’ none; and then you flip channels and find yourself fifteen minutes into VH1’s 50 most awesomely bad songs, and debating with a television and smarmy, unfamous comedians about the merits of songs, agreeing that the friends theme blows as does dancing on the ceiling, disagreeing with some assertions, all when you should be sleeping, resting to get back to training for the triathlon you were seriously thinking of doing.
and when you try? you still can’t get to sleep.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Monday, September 27, 2004
In our quest to find something to do on Saturday night, I met up with Eben/ Shashi/ his friend Juan/ Gurnifer/ her friends from Michigan (Golnar (?)/ Dana/ Carrie/ Jonathan (?))/ Holiday/ Jill C.
The only real thing of note is that while chatting with Dana and Holiday my eye got all itchy. And it's hard to find a drugstore at 11.30 at night.
I know, you're thinking-- no story? No half-baked tangent? Well, it's a quiet morning.
Saturday, September 25, 2004
eric's show was funny. looked like an electronic geekfest. anna-lu, you would have liked it. japanese toys and interactive screens and lots of lights.
watched red sox lose to the yankees with eben and zippy-greg in a bar on avenue b that's a slice of long island with the people to boot. think i saw marla's friend marea there.
at ace bar, saw susan barnes.
this morning i ache.
but i had great dreams. chase scenes, a dream where i was sleeping with someone repeatedly but myself and eben and someone else had her totally convinced that i was a lion. after the third time she noticed i had no tail and the jig was up.
now, breakfast, and softball at kissena park.
Friday, September 24, 2004
hello, it's eric again! but this time i'm not writing about boring politics, i'm writing to invite you to join me at Compact-Impact on Friday night.
i will be showing a piece called 'vectogram' at Compact-Impact Night Vol. 3. Compact-Impact is an electronic gadget and toy store specializing in cutting-edge design and technology implementations for fun and for everyday life. Compact-Impact night is a periodic show held in the store that showcases new experiments in the field. it's also a chance to drink free Sapporo.
Compact-Impact Night Vol. 3 is:
- on Friday night, September 24, from 6-9pm
- at 21 Avenue B (just above 2nd St., on the east side)
- a two-player videogame
- a generative graphic art piece
oh, and did i mention free Sapporo?
see you there,
and from sharma. tonight.
All-- following in the footsteps of last week's outlandishly fun (if technically challenged) Basement Bhangra, I'd like to invite you all to a special, early gig I'm doing @ Joe's Pub this Friday, 9/24:
Join London-based writer/rocker TANUJA DESAI HIDIER , as she does a reading from her acclaimed first novel, the Indian-American coming-of-age tale BORN CONFUSED-- complete with live custom-made mix from NYC's reigning queen of South Asian dance music, DJ REKHA.
Then hang on to your seats for a full-hour rock and revolutions live set from T&A, the NYC band Tanuja sings/songwrites in with ATOM FELLOWS, here joined by special guest DAVE SHARMA, percussionist from Broadway's Bombay Dreams. T&A will be performing tracks from first-of-its-kind CD WHEN WE WERE TWINS, the cross-Atlantic collaborative album of original rock/pop/electro-folk songs based on Born Confused they wrote/recorded with San Transisto, the London band T sings/writes in--plus new tunes from the forthcoming T&A album.
The band's loads of fun and... different, to say the least. It's better than Yom Kippur!
The show really is @ happy hour time: doors open @ 6 and the set is @ 7. Tix are $12 in advance, $15 @ the door; Joe's Pub is in the annex of the Public Theater on Lafayette between Astor and & 4th.
Hope to see y'all there!
competing early gatherings. word.
last night after having dinner with misanthrope anna, i went to wait by my father's car, he was not yet out of work. i usually do this when i want a ride home, and it's easier than ringing up to the lab where he works, standing outside, or sitting inside.
i went to the car, next to a tree and went to my bag to look for a book. apparently the way i turned looked a little dodgy and a cop car, which i didn't see amdist the traffic on 3rd ave ("you looked like you were trying to hide from us") disgorged three passengers to check me out.
i thought that was a little silly, on 3rd avenue, a warm, busy thursday night, kids going to webster hall, kids walking to cafés, kids walking back to their dorms, to find one person to be looking dodgy. i suppose they were doing their job, and after all, i was wearing marge's gay-ass blue jeans and a 76ers shirt.
it was mostly without incident; the officer thought i was giving him attitude, because i was like, "serious. i look suspicious?! should i not stand here?" and was a little perturbed that they took my name for a record of the "incident." as my father cam up, they had checked his plates and determined that we have the same last name, so they could leave me be;
but i do worry about the fact that a couple of suspicious moments can be recorded and later strung together by an eager officer to create a "suspect"; i know of a person who called in a terror threat and when the police responded, there was a record of some other time he called in to report suspicious activity.
which is fine. record keeping is all good. but a speculative mind can start to wonder about abuses.
the lead officer also mentioned that they had to ask questions, in case there were any break ins. the unsaid part is "in case you look like a suspect," which is funny. i look like EVERY suspect. you know, between the ages of 17-30, 5'7"-5'10", 130-160 lbs. you know, average black guy. eben might remember our sophomore year of college, where there were flyers about some guy-- a thief i think, or a peeping tom-- who looked very much like me; someone tacked it on our suite door. kinda funny, kinda mean, mostly true.
Thursday, September 23, 2004
I’d like to thank Law and Order for improving one crappy week of television. It’s season premiere week and what I have seen so far are schmaltzy retellings of last season’s stories, limp pilots with too many unbelievable pretty people (and I didn’t even watch Mountain), and the ABC show Rodney (kind of funny).
By far the worst was One Tree Hill—a questionably bad show in its own right, surviving off of the beauty of a young soon-to-be-forgotten teen heartthrob (Chad Michael Murray), a Bush cousin from the model side of the family (Sophia Bush), an “awkward” girl who is hot, extraneous pulchritude, and the aging talents of Moira Kelly, Craig Sheffer, and Paul Johansson, all with named like Haley and Lucas and Scott. The season opener was a set of flashbacks to catch us up… and leave us right where we knew we started—in the middle of some dumb “this town is SOOOOOO small” melodrama. I love watching some WB porn as much as anybody—pretty people, scantily clad, in cities that never get cold—but damn, that tested my patience.
I hope next week’s episode is better.
Even Smallville left a bit to be desired—except for Clark/ Kal-El’s first flight, which was a hella cool effect. And the gratuitous WB softcore skin scene—Lana taking an extended shower, Lana in amber tones, hair matted down, sweating, Lana looking at the surprise new tattoo at the small of her back.
And at least I didn’t get caught watching Mountain (television without pity recap here).
But, then there is Law and Order, with Dennis Farina in the old-detective role. Interesting, shady, and I wonder why he gets top billing. But LO whipped out Mayor Mike Bloomberg and Sarita Chowdhury. I wonder if Fred Dalton Thompson and Elizabeth Röhm get into fistfights, Thompson being a conservative, and Röhm being all actressy and very believable delivering her liberal lawyer lines about the US’ role in the Middle East, in terms of antagonizing and actually doing things that violate people’s rights
The show pointed out what seems to be a gaining public middle ground. These are the facts our nation will generally accept—that there are laws and to violate them one way brings violence and retribution on participating (or almost participating) states; that we freed the world from a mini-Stalin; that the economic and militaristic actions we take on the rest of the world are righteous, are the will of everyone, and are lawful. That people are jealous of our way of life but they need to accept it and get with the program. That people need to divest themselves, perhaps, of community thought and accept the secular and individual western way of thinking.
And there will be no peacenik solutions that involve America admitting that, as a nation, we do not look at Muslim nations as sovereign, as making their own destiny, with different theories of how to function; as nations to negotiate with. There will be no admitting that sometimes coming in like a stern father figure often breeds resentment even if we promise them scantily clad white women to populate their television.
Unless that’s too pessimistic.
On the lighter side, Britney Spears' cover of Bobby Brown's My Perogative is actually... very bad. Surprisingly poor. But Gully listens to it every day when he wakes up! Just kidding.
Okay, read today’s Boondocks. That’s a better ending.