forget it

it was one of those dreams in which the narrator knew it was too good to be true. even so he wasn’t convinced that it was totally fake. people like him still believe in magic, and people like him can still be happy. although he got the distinct feeling that something was waiting for him he paused and looked around. without reason he felt strong—even arrogant--in terms of humanity, but quite humble in terms of the universe. his feelings were clear even though his mind was cloudy (as it has to be in situations such as this).

these things he thought about when he awoke, for they were all his memory would reveal of the dream. and he went about his business. and he longed for the certainty of emotion even at the expense of his mind.

saturday nights

“you see molly?”
“no, i was upstairs.”
“why were you up in the balcony?”
“bon jovi rises. i needed to drink it in.”
“why do you even come out to this place?”
“i’m a cowboy.”

life apart (from logic)

the thing with planning a wedding is the complexity-to-product ratio. look at the detail, the effort, the planning. compare with the possible outcome. take the best-case, if you'd like. the results are still painful.

emotional and sentimental significance, regardless of their existence in a particular arena, have nothing to do with this ratio. every day (thus far), i have chosen not to drive my car over the side of a bridge. not to combine such an excessive amount of narcotics with my diet that it stops my heart. for these decisions, i do not make plans, to make plans, to consider the possibility of hiring a planner to buy or not buy the pills. to analyze the bridge structure. to pull braking statistics from each of audi's last four independently run factory tests. no, in a decision that ultimately means more than any other in areas involving my involvement, my continued breathing on this earth is decided every day, by a split-second decision. countless numbers of them. low complexity, meaningful product (debatable, i know). what more do tangerine colored roses have to offer than this?

i can live without marriage. literally. figuratively. shouldn't that be visible in the details? or lack thereof? spare me.

My Very Evil Mother Just Served Us Nothing

what does it mean when a planet gets demoted? i had a friend once (or twice), who became a girlfriend. that didn't work, and she fell back to friend status. she lost all of the associated benefits, just like that. sometimes, athletes get sent back to the minors. more busses, less planes. more day games, though. an altered relationship with the sun, you might suggest...

pluto never had a chance. the plutonian olympics...well, they were in a category of events best kept to planetary situations. and what about the residents? shit, people left cuba when castro took over. could this apply to an oft-dissed former planet? believe it. be prepared for delays on the outer rim of the solar system, inbound. and let's try to make this wave of immigration work. the intra-planetary variety is fucked up enough. and don't call them black. plutonian-earthlings is the description these days.

i actually bought pluto three years ago. well, received it. as a gift, you know. the star people ran out of...that's correct, stars. somebody had the idea to offer up pluto. apparently they were expanding their product line outside of the gaseous/plasma market. that same friend, she bought it for me. $29.99. and pluto, it was dynamic. because my very educated mother, she was always serving something in someone's eyes...you just had to pick something that started with a "p". now i've got a static non-planet, and momma went back to the pipe (a more permanent "p"), like the evil bitch she is. and that's just fucked up.

observation for the kids

i often wonder about the balance between knowledge and innocence. this is perhaps the most influential factor in human happiness and yet many people don’t take an active role in its determination. their casual treatment of this issue is expected, however. For some the decision is too difficult and therefore passivity flips nature’s coin for them. For others this lies deep in their “blissfully unaware” mental cavity only to emerge when and if they start pondering things other than the next pop idol.

for the few who consciously decide this balance for themselves or others (children) it is a difficult battle between ignorant happiness and melancholy wisdom. in my experience more people lean towards knowledge for themselves and happiness for others, for knowledge is very powerful and human curiosity is hard to contain. the trickier road, of course, is the opposite. some would argue that once you understand the choice you’ve already committed to one side – that you can’t know you are ignorant. but i think it’s possible to catch this at a point where you can take the other path and be at least partially immune to agonizing over the human condition.

b.p.l.u.

having attended one of the five most diverse schools in the nation, i know the importance of being color blind. so when my buddy johnny asked me to plug his site, i cut two per cent off my usual fee.

this is art?

jon foster

bonjour

it isn't as though i couldn't see any of this coming. there comes a time in nearly every week (though lately, closer to daily) where i find myself catching up to the point that i had reserved for myself at an earlier moment in time. think large scale here, because that's essentially what i'm talking about. i need to see progress, and this does not change. i need to want more, which i do, but in a way that consistently runs away from its parallel to my reality. today, i feel behind. inadequate. today, i need to drive 150 in traffic. today, i need to make big plans. for tonight.

tonight, i'll catch up to today.

aloha

i’m not sure why life in bed played before camera last night. they were two to three times better and even got a favorable review from my sister (not an easy feat for indie or prog rock). i’ve seen them many different places but there’s just something about an art gallery with no stage lighting.

after those two bands came rahim, a three piece from new york. i was really impressed with the dead on vocals and the complex percussion. they reminded me of a cross between we are scientists and the apes’ bass driven rock, but better than their sum. aloha headlined with their unique mix of pop and experimental. they also utilized drums and repetition, only to offset that with a xylophone-type instrument. if the mix wasn’t so bad (vocals low, drums high) they might have been the best of the night. the sparse but familiar audience stayed through the ninety-five degree heat until the end of the set, however. it’s somehow comforting to see that the cheap, b.y.o.b. shows are still happening in this city.

hello

i remember a day when the world wide web included nothing but porn and electronic printouts from government data warehouses...that is a lie, of course, though i won't tell you which part. and change is good. it's been a long enough wait for this site to feature an estrogen-filled narcotics merchant. t. price, on the other hand, should realize that the states on the west coast are best appreciated on wednesdays. between the hours of 3 and 4 pm. eastern. you do the math.

i spent last week on a deserted island. not to say that there were no other people, but rather that the combination of lacking geographic size and non-existent included points of destination reflected a similar image upon my senses. i became engaged. this is not up for debate, contrary to the now popular response of others providing opinions that would (though never fully explained) negate my previous decision. conversely, engagement may top the "events that provoke the word 'congratulations' for no apparent reason" list. where were those people when i bought my first finely crafted german automobile? invoking a 'yes' response hardly took the planning and intellect included in the events leading up to my writing of that check to the dealership. come to me in fifty years, and i will accept your congratulations, with regards to my life-to-be (err...wife-to-be).

two minutes into writing this post, and the amalgamation of requests relating to the first week back in my office and non-stop correspondence relating to a wedding event at a point in the distant future has made carrying a single train of thought nearly impossible. d.e., if you find yourself on the east coast, i'll buy whatever it is that you're selling. i need the assistance. the exact amount that i will need can best be measured in text, as too much. and wear something nice. you're prettier than that.

guest blog (it's a girl!)

in order to keep this site's content as fresh as a slap to the face i asked d.e. (don't ask what that stands for) to write a guest blog. she brings some much needed femininity and class to the phlox loves arthur franchise. feel free to either prop her up or push the glass down upon her head in the comments section. enjoy:


So I walk into the office—more nervous stumble than strut. It still feels like Halloween in this stiff suit—so heavy—and my voice shakes from the bulk of each pinstripe. I ask the 'Blocker' if I can see Him today. By 'ask,' I mean that I actually beg, flattering, beseeching, and essentially charming my way into His office while banking on the potent, fatal combination that is highly caloric baked goods and the pudgy Blocker's sweet toofff. As usual, I struggle with the knowledge that the skateboard outside is mine (or so it feels that way at times in this new game of grownup) and if I should indeed inform this Marge Simpson (the Blocker) in front of me (Marge, in terms of her bad voice and hair) of this. I don't, throwing some more compliments the Blocker's way instead and getting them stuck in her big hair. With my proverbial skateboard so far away now, I think I am in the door!

I am in, as Blocker's lifeless rasp accepts my starch and lard offering despite her clearly not needing them. In exchange for my boxes of diabetes mellitus, Blocker opens the golden gates to me while saying her usual silent prayers to her scrubs—magic scrubs that conceal years of doughnuts and Philadelphia cream cheesed bagels so well. Alleluia! —A less-than heavenly chorus of coughing and elderly complaints and conditions reverberates before me. At times, it is strange how much it sounds like the Mormon Tabernacle choir on Christmas morning to me; after all, it means that me--and my drugs--are in.

If you haven't noticed by now: I sell drugs…legal ones. And behind your and your brother's uncle's dog's neighbor's cousin's friendly neighborhood PCP, there is always a me and my fake smile. Do you know where your pills come from?

Good, because neither do I. (*Fake smile*)

So suffice it to say that I was in your brother's uncle's dog's neighbor's cousin's friendly neighborhood PCP's office today with your/his/her/their/its pills when—Alleluia! for once —The PCP actually had time to see little old, well-suited-but nervous-me. Sweet! Not only was I inside the practice, but I also was in His office amidst framed degrees and Kodaks of (presumably) his happy little trustfundites! Getting out my detail piece on the fine products that-shall-remain-nameless-and-that-I-so-love-to-market, I finally felt ready to "put on the Ritz" for him and sell sell sell...

...but certainly, I was not ready to take 'the Ritz' off! "Turn around," the Doctor calmly but firmly ordered. Flabbergasted, I recalled a training urban legend about a female rep requested to do some sort of similar, heinously pervy thing. Oh no, not me, I thought. Never! Outraged, I gathered my samples and dignity and turned around in a huff right out the door--away from a shocked Dr. Gross. For Abigail Adams, Susan B. Anthony, Elizabeth Stanton, Gloria Steinem, and Mary Wollstonecraft, I walked out. I walked. I stomped. I scowled. Let my people go! I was woman and I roared…

That is, I roared only until I heard a "Hey lady, yous got gum on your rear end" from a Mr. Yinzer in the medical complex parking lot. Oh yes, not only did I ruin an Ann Taylor (gasp!), but I also ruined a relationship--and all because I turned around a bit too quickly that time. Feeling foolish, I collected my "skateboard" and left.

~~d.e.

water colors

the sky was the color of the cover of third eye blind’s second album in the afternoon. that was strange in itself, but stranger was the clarity that the day afforded. normally when i drink outside in the sun it is for fun or inspiration, but today my three dollar lawn chair from aldi became a temple of sorts. i made several semi-important decisions and one character adjustment in only a few hours. i don’t like being on the fence too often, but it is usually so hard to recover that status that it becomes worth it to analyze. and sometimes the fence is comfortable too. and nice, if it’s painted a quaint mint green.

the long road

well, i have finally recoverd from the california trip. physically. i may never recover my previous mental state, one of ignorance with regard to the spirituality of the pacific, and one of sanity.

the last day of the trip we went to san francisco by way of oakland. i can't describe how different the two cities are. oakland reminds me of cleveland before they started cleaning it up while san francisco appears to be some sort of gay utopia with a disproportionate population of deranged homeless. it was great. we walked almost the length of market street, pausing only on side streets occaisionally to walk up steep hills for the fun of it. as we passed 13th street we began to get a feeling. a kind of radiation, but also a notion of being watched. later we realized that it was just castro street, the heart of the gay district, exerting its pull upon us. while i got a few long stares, the thing that was most intriguing was the feeling of being out of place. chris, his wife, and i walked among the mostly gay population feeling as if we were wearing sandwich boards. we stopped in some stores and at one point i purchased a scissor sisters album in medium rare records, one of the gayest records stores ever.

the flight home was awful, including delays in some texas city i'd never heard of before and not being able to get off the plane for seven hours. as delightful as that was, i am certain that i will go back as soon as possible.

san jose through song

after the first full day in california i think i finally understand what the beach boys were talking about. Well she got her daddy's car And she cruised through the hamburger stand now. Seems she forgot all about the library Like she told her old man now. sometimes you just get caught up. and it's easy to place the blame on california, but once in a while you just need a hamburger.

my friday and saturday expressed through the crap-tastic random selections on chris' ipod:

hellogoodbye - i saw it on your keyboard after flying in and driving to chris' house, i finally get to see his living conditions. i like his new wife and his room/house is significantly cleaner than i thought it would be. later i learn that this is because his wife cleans up after him.

dashboard confessional - dusk and summer we meet up with a couple other duke alums and have dinner at chili's, followed by a trip to the cinemas. in the time between we stop at spoon's apartment on a street three stories above ground. it's pretty surreal, but i guess that's how bad space is getting out here. his apartment is jealousy-inspiring, and i can't seem to get out of my head that his t.v. is bigger than mine for the remainder of the night.

j lo. - waiting for tonight(clubland remix) we get up early and arrive at santa cruz for surfing at 9:30am. my first time in a wet suit was pretty cool. i receive basically no instruction and am simply tossed out into the (medium to hard, man, beginners shouldn't be here) waves. despite warnings we head out into the water and surf some pretty good break. while chris is pretty good, i am awful. but i hear that most people suck their first time. right? anyway, i don't stand up at all, but i do get to one knee a couple times. in the process i get flipped and beaten and pretty waterlogged. but it was pretty close to one of the greatest things ever. the sun was shining and the other surfers weren't being assholes. if this is what california life is like then i may leave the east pretty soon. i have to say it was a good day.

summer in phoenix

phoenix came to the rex last night and brought throngs of sweaty young adults. to be fair, they weren’t sweaty when they arrived but the rainforest-like conditions inside the theatre made for some damp kerchiefs. if everyone was about thirty percent better looking then i’d have said it was for the best. as it was the crowd was exceptionally attractive for pittsburgh. what is it about french bands?

the french kicks opened but i only caught some of their set as for the most part i was drinking out in the lobby (which was no cooler than the stage). so far we are was the first song they played, and a personal favorite of mine. they played some others from the new album, but overall it was severely average. there was nothing average about phoenix’s set, however. it was nice to see the crowd really get into it for what was apparently the band’s first pittsburgh show ever. white people were dancing and carefree (always a good sign) and i was singing along to a few songs. it’s pretty amazing, but that band just doesn’t have any bad songs. and the singer’s voice is somehow soothing even while emotional. one should never underestimate the soothing power of rum and good vocals.

smurfette is hot

as you are probably aware, this blog's official stance on smurfs is one of sincere, wide-eyed admiration. we love the little androgynous guys (and the one hot blonde counterfeit). so i try to pass on any news of them when it comes my way. from new zealand:

Two blue smurfs were left with red faces on Saturday night after they were arrested by police for stealing a trampoline.

Senior Sergeant Brian Benn told NZPA two drunk 19 year olds, "dressed as smurfs", were seen carrying the trampoline along Richardson Street, Dunedin about 1am.

Smurfs are fictional small creatures who featured in the 1980s television series The Smurfs.

by the way, don't believe that last statement. smurfs have never been proven not to exist. and i think they may be mentioned in the bible.