stick it

is everyone else as excited as i am about this behind-the-scenes look at the gripping world of competitive gymnastics? though it is sure to become a staple in the TBS “groundhog day”-esque inescapable circle of classic movie reruns, i believe i shall see it in the theatre to best experience the dolby surround grunting that my house so sorely lacks. *note to self, increase domestic grunting*

despicable

oh, now you’ve done it chi-o (that’s chi omega sorority for all you non greeks). you’ve gone and sullied the already-stellar names of both kent state and chi-Ho sorority, inc. you just had to present your “blackest member” award while an african american was within earshot of your event. you also had the “award” winner’s genius date explain to the media:

[my] date received the award because she was motherly and nurturing

for shame girls. but this does remind me of my time in the greek system when i was crowned “least asian” two years in a row.

free pamela

the tennessean is reporting that pamela rogers, one of the thousands of teachers caught defiling young students, is back in custody after violating her parole by writing blogs on myspace. here’s an excerpt allegedly written to a minor:

" 'My Plans are Your Plans....' 'Nothing's Changed....' 'Say it.....say it....' Always is the word, Baby, always. Listen to "Far Away" by Nickleback...."

i, for one, think she is innocent, as nickleback’s arrangements will kill any mood in seconds and chad kroeger’s hair will make even the most virile of men impotent. or so the legend goes.

joggle

finally, i’ve found a sport that combines my cat-like hand-eye coordination with my love of retarded ideas. joggling is right up my alley, and training starts immediately. i figure that the juggling is the hardest part and i’ve already mastered that, so the marathon should be a breeze (i already juggle with one hand while drinking with the other some days. if you name your balls technically it isn’t drinking alone).

the secret history

although i finished reading the secret history a while ago, i wanted to reread parts of it before judgement. this is not a mystery or suspense novel but more a study of the human condition and its ancient flaws. it is much better that way and, in the vein of franny and zooey, has found immediate favor with me.

the work can be divided into two halves; before and after becoming a murderer. The first part focuses on richard’s perception of his arrival at hampden college in new england. reliving the first semester at a new school through richard’s eyes was pleasant for me. the group of friends he eventually falls in with remind me of some of my own so i may be biased in that regard. but any classic scholar will undoubtedly find hints of their own kind in henry or camilla. tartt’s writing is crisp and erudite to match richard’s first perceptions of the other characters.

like so many things in college, killing takes on some sort of semi-real dream state, not evoking the proper emotional superlative in either direction. it’s almost as if a filter is over the college, blurring edges and casting doubt on senses. the absence of modern religion is a must, but morality is a different story. how much do actions weigh on consciences? is there ever a right thing to do? how much whiskey can you actually drink in one night when your good friend steals away your sister?

turn the page

i went to a new gym this morning. i was a little anxious but also excited to start this new chapter in my life. oh, i've not abandoned the old one. i still go to that on weekdays, but this one is closer to my house for the weekends. i know what you're thinking: "two gyms at the same time? how will he ever make that work? and what about the expense?" but, wow, this new gym is an upgrade. four times the cardio machines, twice the nautilus, twice the smith machines, four times the plasma televisions, and newer, un-spit-upon floors. the closest analogy i can think of is when you are dating someone but then meet someone even better looking with even better musical taste.

so i was the second one to arrive this morning and the TVs weren't on yet but the music video channel audio was playing. is it sad that i knew the video for "girlfriend" by pebbles and was picturing it in my head as i heard the song?

PA vs. 4th grade girls

an article about the freedom of fashion caught my eagle eye, and as the battle is in PA it hits close to home. ah, upper saint clair; many rungs above saint clair socially, and far superior to the leper colony which is lower saint clair. unbelievably, an elementary school is banning a ten year old girl from wearing a miniskirt to school. is this disruptive to the educational process? Apparently not, judging from zoe’s erudite statement to the press:

"My sign says, 'Style is Freedom,'" she said, "because freedom of expression is in the Constitution."

And though her sign is hard to see and looks like “freedom of xrsin” at first glance, it is clear from her craftsmanship and the priorities instilled upon her by her mother that she will no doubt be integral in leading the united states into the latter half of the twenty-first century.

knot tying

in response to chris’s impending marriage i will post light-heartedly about the improbable. my future wife’s silouette is slim and her profile elegant. she likes to play more than work. she is easily amused and excitable, enjoying simple pleasures. she is oh-so-subtle though, chooses words carefully, and reveals more with her smile than her tongue. she can turn men into boys. and i only see her when i drink absinthe. sigh.

different twain

it is my unhumble opinion that book learning and common sense are separate entities and assuming one based upon the other is fundamentally flawed. that is why i don’t understand harvard’s course on how to be happy. apparently this class meets twice a week to impart such non-scholarly wisdom on students as “don’t do what your parents want; instead do what you want and you’ll be happier in the end”. as groundbreaking as that is, it’s pointless to study. if you have to take notes or be tested on something to consider it worth knowing then you probably aren’t going to use the information in the right way even after you memorize it. this is also why i don’t understand duke university’s mandatory class “how not to assault strippers”.

sine waves

it is truly spring when your spirit lifts from home to work simply because the sun roof was open on your car. black and chilly winter make this welcome change that much sweeter. people that feel this way who live in the north are all a little sadistic, myself included. i suppose that is the reason why i abstain from whiskey for weeks just to then taste it’s sweetness and have it be slightly better than i remember it. because the only thing better than experiencing something for the first time is being denied it after having known it, and then having it once again.

bullets and bananas

today's locker room experience involved a man in the third trimester of his expected life, fully nude, eating a banana on a stool. i wondered if this represented a change in priorities over time for the old man, or simply an inbred derangement of sorts. it doesn't matter really. ultimately, i tend to be most concerned about myself. i decided to kill him, right then and there. unfortunately, i also decided against any physical contact. with nothing to fire or throw at the disgusting being sitting in front of me with his banana, i simply walked out into the gym. isn't that how it always is?

diana prince

this article about girls going wild caught my attention for a couple seconds. it makes points such as alcohol is more of an excuse for young women to do stupid and fun things that wouldn’t normally fly, rather than some sort of metaphorical gun at their head forcing them to strip in public. this “implies that the problem with engaging in public sex on vacation is that they’d be [doing] more of it at home if only they were brave enough.” so, women, what have you to say for yourselves?

the following gem follows the explaination that with more opportunities for women to act out and be free (feminism) a “social toxicity” (materialism, etc.) is also being created.

Young women today are like superheroes in the first pages of the comic book, blessed with incredible powers and not yet aware of the responsibilities that come with them.

so this begs the question, ‘why can’t i find a girl with a magic lasso?’ i’m almost certain we’d hit it off. if you’re out there, please lasso my heart.

falling from grace, terminally speaking

not to be critical, but...

were the good people charged with running duke's daily operations aware that they would be trading a national basketball championship for a rape scandal? this turn of events seems to highlight a turning point in a little battle i like to refer to as duke university vs. the city of durham. in this epic sociological matchup, it appears as though the city has begun to infiltrate the minds of its enemy. soon, it will again be considered cool and mentionable to simply purchase your coke directly from the local dealer. all on campus, trust-funded entrepreneurs need not apply.

and, you know what...long live durham. why the hell not, right?

mo' novels mo' problems

i suppose pouring oneself into his work can be explained by one of two things: finding work more interesting than anything else or finding whatever alternative there is more objectionable. so, um, there’s this novel sitting at my house, and it’s north-north reaction to me is keeping me at the office. the book is not poorly written or unentertaining, i think it’s just the wrong time for us. even if i brazenly watch music videos this book sits there and stares at me. and i can’t read two books at a time, so it’s either give up or read it. although this problem is allowing me to quickly climb the corporate ladder it is vexing nonetheless. i am preparing for another battle of wills tonight until house can save me.

my direction is unclear

here is a blurry picture from nada surf's saturday set at waterloo records in austin. if you weren't at south by southwest then picture, if you will, the whole festival looking like this. and, near the end of each night, imagine actually being able to see the notes bands were playing. blurrily.

reebok killing more than style

this article about the recall of deadly gift bracelets is yet another reason why i no longer purchase reebok shoes. first they made the retail price of their “pump” sneakers an outrageous three digits back in 1990 (result: no pumps for little t.price) and now they are poisoning children. with an amount of incompetence not seen since… well… katrina (nagin what?). this quote from the article is pretty ridiculous

"Laboratory analysis of the charm from the child indicated it contained 99 percent lead," the department said in a statement; the safety threshold for lead content in jewelry is 0.06 percent.

this kind of execution must have also been responsible for reebok losing all the market share they gained with the pump sneakers to nike. i bet whoever designed the bracelets is considering pulling an orlando bloom from elizabethtown.

\/ \/\/

a significant portion of the trip to austin last week was spent reciting lines from volkswagen’s new GTI commercial campaign. the series of spots are by far the funniest current ads and up near the top for the twenty first century. the scientist is peter stormare, a swedish actor who has been in, among other things, constantine, the big lebowski, and a seinfeld episode. his manner of speaking can only be described as ebonic german-accented english, which i hear is getting big in berlin. also genius is the v-dub gang sign he flashes, which i have already started using shamelessly in conversation. german engineering in tha haus, yah.

florida: fun in the sun or educational powerhouse?

this is exactly why districts shouldn’t put horny twenty-four year old teachers in classrooms with mature fourteen year old students. lord knows what even my middle-aged eighth grade english teacher was doing with my yearbook picture at night. but fear not, this may all have been planned for lafave according to this gem from the article

“I am a strong Christian woman," she said. "I believe that God has a path for me, and this was just a bump in the road.

a sexy, bipolar, illegal, christian bump.

now north by northeast. of south by southwest.

memorable, less calendar-specific memories of sxsw...

involving music always works. i've never seen more people in less space produce less alcohol-related incidents. the bands gave everyone something to focus on, look forward to, gravitate towards. this is not something that can be fabricated.

i am now a believer that one hour is enough. mood is established. crowds are captivated. as people on the floor, we're convinced that our actions drive the show. yelling out song names, varying attempts at harmonizing with those on stage...these actions are results. the catalyst resides beneath strings, white keys, bass pedals, and the vocals of those most equipped to offer up their talents. i bought nada surf's daniel lorca a beer on a night following their show...i owed him and the members of so many other bands much more than that.

it was a good weekend for bands that kept membership to a minimum. the subways, mates of state, two gallants, nada surf...there were others, and each managed to impress beyond my own expectations, without crowding the stage. it is possible to create goodness with less than four people. specific highlights are too great in number to elaborate on. i will only say that they each had a place in solidifying my general level of elation.

there is considerably more to say. for now, this is enough. your satisfaction is a relative term, after all.

SXSW saturday roundup

the saturday showers, though a blessing to the wildfire regions of texas, were less well received by austin's residents. they did quit for blocks of time, however, and more stellar lineups served to un-dampen spirits. daniel from nada surf told i am not victor ward at stubb's on friday that they were playing an acoustic set at waterloo records around three in the afternoon. thus, our first stop was a crowded record store where drinking was permitted and paying for merchandise was optional (not really). after the first two songs matthew said that he'd take requests, but i really think he had songs in mind and clearly picked whatever he wanted whether shouted aloud or not. they played mostly songs from let go and the weight is a gift like thursday, but changed up some songs so it wasn't identical. the highlight was their closing piece, an extended version of the "kitty" song complete with purring and mewing (although daniel translating "fruit fly" into french while matthew played was the runner up moment).

next it was on to catch up on drinking (somehow we were behind at 3:30pm). we stopped in a few bars while walking down 6th street, and eventually afternoon changed into evening. we arrived early at la zona rosa for the stills show at ten. a band from new york city, california (or something like that), augustana, played well opening up. next morningwood took the stage with a vendetta against silence. their commanding singer made the mediocre set enjoyable, as only someone wearing a holster for her mic can do. then the stills took the stage and rocked in their good-looking, charming manner. they played five new songs and three old ones. from what i recall of the new, they were very good but seemed lighter, a different kind of sound than logic will break your heart. when the bass drum started up for lola i think i was the happiest i'd been all weekend. of course, i was partial to the songs i know and love and that one is tattooed on my gray matter.

after that we left for fox and hound, an outdoor venue boasting she wants revenge and we are scientists. after getting passed over for wrisbanded people we were finally let in (as far as the wristband issue, we generally found they weren't needed but we weren't club hopping incessantly or trying to get into wristband-only clubs). she wants revenge came on in their devil-may-care manner, and the record exec standing next to us' presence assured me that they are for real. i have to say it was really great, even not knowing most of their songs. the singer is just so full of cool that it spills out of his voice very smoothly. i think if he sung about politics i'd immediately find the topic interesting. we are scientists played well but were outshined by she wants revenge, and by this time i was pretty tired. highlights include the ridiculous dollar-sign shaped necklace on the bassist.

i have more to say about some things but that ends the saturday summary. 11 hours of music, seven bands, one kitten song. and a desire to never go home.

SXSW friday roundup

i know this is a day late, but saturday was just too busy. anyway, friday night was grand in terms of sets and weather. we attended stubb's from eight until one a.m. this venue is one of the few open-air stages and the sky was a pretty orange/gray for the whole night. after two bands that i didn't recognize and didn't note as anything spectacular the subways rocked the knickers off the place. the pixie-ish bassist won everyone over after a mere thirty seconds and i can't say for sure that i'd turn her down if she asked me to marry her today. the boyish singer climbed the speaker stacks no less than four times and jumped a good fifteen feet back to the stage each time. next came metric (whose attractive singer sang a song with the stills on saturday, but i'm getting ahead of myself). their set was kind of up and down, half the time i was entranced and the remainder i found the songwriting unimpressive. of course, when i say so-so i am speaking relatively, and that means it would still beat any other non-sxsw show with a cane. the magic numbers came on with a flourish of hippie spunk. it was at this point that my friday-night-friend brian, a scottish bloke, dipped his shamrock necklace (it was st. patrick's day, dig) in his guiness ale and then licked it and gave it to me as an international peace offering. it worked, and we have a truce for the next two years.

if you were waiting for the grand finale of a snow patrol review, you may be disappointed. we left before "snoo pahtrohl", much to the dismay of brian. but, hey, we had things to do.

SXSW thursday roundup

warm weather and crowds of hipsters welcomed us into the austin area thursday afternoon. this being our first time at south by south west (and in austin) we were open to whatever would be thrown at us, but still ended up surprised by a few things. like the massive amount of american auto makers' commercials who emphasize that the cars are made "by texans" (not by illegal immigrants). but on to the shows.

we got to sixth street around 5:45 to survey the scene. already there were masses of denim and bad hair swirling about in the 75 degree weather. after consulting a few people we decided not to risk going to different places, especially since both mates of state and nada surf were playing at the parish. so we tayed there from seven until two, drinking and nodding and being used as a balance for underage drunk girls. of the six bands we saw the most pleasant surprise was two gallants. this white-stripes-esque two piece drum and guitar outfit rocked while baring it's soul. the drummer reminded me of the guy from local h, while the singer/guitarist reminded me of a higher pitched emo jack white. i highly recommend them. mates of state rocked their 40 minute set, had me and everyone else singing along like pied pipers. it was at this time that marissa, whom i'd never met before, started groping and leaning on me because i knew the words to "goods". i was sure that would come in handy some day. but alas, i think she was fourteen, so it wasn't meant to be. nada surf made me want to be a musician again, and daniel lorka brazenly lit up a cigarette in the clearly non-smoking bar during the last song "what is your secret?". a fuck you to the town elders, and a joyous endorsement for lung cancer. it was a blast.

revengers

i am really digging she wants revenge's new video for "tear you apart". more generally i like their sound. does this make me a bandwagon poser or gay? they're obviously very-influenced-by/sound-just-like joy division and they are getting spins on mtv. then again, if not them, what band should one listen to while applying makeup? adam, one half of the band, also has this to say (and since i've been anti-poser since 1999 i agree):

It's very hip now to be into new-wave and post-punk and to know what contemporary bands are influenced by Gang of Four, but Justin and I were listening to all that shit IN the 80's! And besides, when we were growing up people called us fags for listening to Madonna, Prince and The [Physchedelic] Furs... but now everybody's fronting like they always loved that shit - and I don't mean guilty pleasure, I mean play list in your iPod

syncopated jump rope rhyme

(clap clap) (clap) (clap clap) (clap)

gonna fly me down, to the south and west
gonna see me one band then see the rest
with a drink in my hand and the weight off my chest
my mistress i’m for to see

no car, no job, no face-to-face
with a handful of charm and a pinch of grace
the land she’ll warm my resting place
my mistress i’m for to see

austin. austin, massachusetts.

i spent a portion of last week disappointed.

this week's scheduled arrival in austin, already perceived to be a day late, was in danger of shortening yet another night of highly anticipated antics. all of this has changed, however, and so my spirits have adjusted accordingly. thursday is permitted to act as thursday afterall, which is good news for each and every one of us.

yes, i know friend, there is basketball to be watched and a holiday that i simply do not understand. there are other cities as well, with other attractions. something scandinavian, perhaps. but there is no place quite as grand as the location that i have allowed myself to venture to, that place in the future, which has been shaped by months of mental buildup. austin it is. pennsylvania for now, but austin soon enough.

you always travel, to many desirable places (and others less so), you may add. this is why we hear from you in such randomly distributed postings. well, yes. in this you are correct. but you're no austin. and neither are they.

we like good alcohol and great artistry for a reason. you and i. that is why we continue to meet like this.

au revoir, mon ami.

baby steps

there is nothing quite like using aerobic dumbells for resistance on bicep curls. not only are they smaller than my hand (two pound to start), they are also the most flaming, noticeable pink and purple. it was painful, grant, to be forbidden to lift any upper body for four months. but this is adding course-grain salt. i was standing next to some middle-aged lady this morning (i arrived late—seven a.m.—and the elderly were finishing up to get some lunch) who looked contemptuously at me while doing god-knows-what ab exercise on her rubber ball, as if i was mocking her weakness. videos from aha and the gap band as well as good memories from the weekend made the workout slightly less awkward. i am not sure what to expect monday when the regulars come in but i am fairly certain it won’t be good. i think i shall take my neon dumbells to the back area.

upside down frown

reasons to smile today:

1. high temperature is 64 degrees fahrenheit.
2. south by southwest, where it will hopefully be warmer than 64 degrees, is next week.
3. i may finally get to see jane bellwether this summer. sigh.
4. tommy good-times. nuff said.

conversation kills

overheard in the locker room:

jaime: …yeah, i’d really like to throw a few back with that guy
charles: he’s always got something sweet to…
jaime: did you ever party with him? you did right? last year’s christmas party? remember, i had to drive you home?
charles: ha, yeah, not too well. tommy good-times.
jaime: i heard he’ll be in town soon.
charles: want to work chest today?

i’ve noticed a startling trend that people whose surnames contain the words “good-times” or “kegger” seem to be more fun than normal people. this also happens when “fun” precedes someone’s christian name, i.e. fun bobby (whom i knew in college).

texas blazing trails again

according to the smoking gun a judge in san antonio recently footnoted a quote from billy madison on an opinion in bankruptcy court. you know, the one with “at no point in your rambling, incoherent response was there anything that could even be considered a rational thought”. this is remarkable not only for the keen insight that only adam sandler could give but also that a 58 year old man has actually seen the film. besides wondering why federal judges watch sandler films in their spare time, this also got me thinking about veronica vaughn. that same year she also played sonya blade in the classic film mortal kombat. that kind of info is essential if you want to win trivial pursuit 90s edition.

sacrilicious

another sunday morning gone, another fine block of high quality info-mercials watched. i love watching these programs as a cultural study as well as for the five easy payments of nineteen dollars and ninety-nine cents. my heart pauses for a second when they announce that the item is not available in stores, but i can eventually calm myself by remembering that this info-mercial has been running for four years and is not likely to sell out by next week. these gems offer countless glances into the eyes of the robotic-like consumer/info-mercial audience member, a rare breed whose ranks i one day aspire to join. along with writing the great american novel that is my greatest goal in life.

to barter

i could do without the sun
but it would have to be a trade

you know,
it's not really about what i can see

but rather
where i happen to be

my thoughts come
even in the dark

so perhaps a few of those
yeah, that works for me

singing along to ac newman

does anyone else say “virgin” instead of “version” while singing along to the new pornographers song “electric version”? grant that i am slightly demeneted but this seems as natural as katsup on eggs. virgins are hard enough to come by, but powerful, glowing electric ones would be just grand. and quite songworthy. they wouldn’t have to wear roman tunics and sandals but i think they would anyway. they are a mysterious fun-loving bunch. to be an electric virgin in the autumn, i think, would be quite agreeable.

fiery cold

is it possible that the better show can be experienced in your car in millvale after the band’s set has completed? of course not. but last night was the first time i considered this as i drove home. the fiery furnaces didn’t put on a bad show, but it was just less than what I’d expected. matt, who plays synth and organ on recorded tracks, played only guitar. thus the songs were arranged for guitar and the tempo was increased. this made for a more garage-y feel and much less singing along. but i got to hang out with rebecca and make (and hear) subtle comments and observations all night, which is really what live music is all about. that and the music, maybe. but after the set we hung out in my car for a f.f. song from ep and that was just as fun as anything all night.

mr. jones and me

for as long i can remember my fascination of mtv, i have always taken an inexplicable and special interest in the real world. some would argue that the majority of posts on a site such as this serve much the same purpose as this viewership, in that we all find enjoyment in the observation of others. and to that end, seeing the worst that humanity has to offer can sometimes bring us to the pinnacle of such a realm. recent real world seasons, however, have introduced a new sort of worst. it's not only that i find no reason to respect what i am watching, but also that i've lost interest in why i feel that way, why they are the way they are, and why the television has not yet learned to interpret my inner preferences as highest priority, regardless of my fingers' paths on the remote.

maybe future seasons will be filmed in high definition. maybe that's the new real. i don't have large pockets of time that can be aimed at watching the tv, and it's discouraging to note that i have little control over my final choice of programming. i also don't know that i want to "see me starin' back at me". adam duritz did, but his guitar is nicer than mine.

tuesday's wishful thinking

sitting here listening
but never really hearing
anything but the sound of my heart
telling me simply

that I couldn’t have it any better
that if I had you
that if you were here
it would explain everything

and I hear that
i know that
i think that I always have
i need you here

reckless youth

the last day in february reminds me of riding with the top down in forty degree farenheit weather. there was a significant amount of snow on the ground, and i was buzzing on 6 coronas at noon on a sunday. we made our way through forest-lined roads as the chill was consistently fought off by my mexican army of alcohol. “where will we land?”, i vaguely remember thinking for a moment before george michael’s “faith” came on the radio, leaving no alternative but to sing along without regard for any other thought. i recall the smell of leather and pine rather than the normal grey of winter, probably the most convincing reason to be happy in february. there was also the girl, of course, now no more than a ghost. there’s just something about hair blowing in the wind that turns car rides into poetry.

hello goodbye

being back in an office that had been all but abandoned for the greater portion of 2006 is not nearly as comforting as i had imagined. i felt, at least in certain moments, that there was a longing for my return to the world of routine, that there were items of consequence in rekindling such a lifestyle. but irony, as it often tends to do, did not fully reveal itself at the time of those thoughts. after all, regarding the union of myself and my office (and this city in general), it has been quite some time. being here at home, things feel altogether foreign. the city herself may make a fine mistress someday, but in the interim, she's a whore of a long-distance partner. good riddance, i say. my cynicism was beginning to breed jealousy.

rare glimpse

in my hoegaarden induced sleep last night i dreamed about what it would be like to be my own brother. it was surprisingly real-feeling considering this character doesn’t exist, and as is the case most of the time i was unaware that it was a dream until i woke up. it’s embarrasing to say but i can’t remember my character’s name now. all i remember is that the soundtrack of the dream was weezer b-sides like “waiting on you” and “ex-girlfriend” and that i really wanted some peanuts. which is so typical of him.

incoherent

i am on zero hours of sleep after this head cold kept me up last night. i alternated between reading and MTV from ten until one o’clock and paced around my bedroom from one to four. with insomnia nothing is real. everything is far away. my mouth is so dry that pills stick to its roof instead of going down my throat. i think i’ve been staring into space for minutes at a time, but there is no way to tell. things are getting blurry. a thought is repeating: keep your eyes on the prize. this could have something to do with austin or, more likely, it just means that i’ve lost touch.

romance is not dead

i recently read as she climbed across the table by jonathan lethem, a science fiction/love story hybrid that is also funny and clever. one of the characters falls in love with a void, an opening into (what? a different space-time?) that selectively takes certain things while allowing others to pass through its opening and come out the other side. so, can “nothing” with taste actually be better than something? the answer is a resounding “yes”. let’s face it, things just suck. not to mention people. voids are the future. i predict disastrous effects on the valentine’s day card market.

amazing

thoughts from last night's nada surf show in tempe...

negative elements that can never seem to find their way out of the concert experience include the doors opening at 8 for a show that was supposed to start at 7 and set change delays without having to make any set changes (see: needless delays v2.0). neither surprises me anymore, but the mere possibility exists for me that one day, for one show, a seamless transition of arrival and band changes will bring to life the full experience of what often has the potential for life-altering musical envelopment. and clubs with quasi-orgasmic interiors for hosting live music should never, ever, ever be placed in a strip-mall bordering a campus road. the jump from outdoor disappointment to indoor elation was nearly enough to injure my fragile heart.

more prevalent memories from the evening involve a band that simply puts on one of the best shows in the country, simply because they can, and the friends that they chose to do it with. the choices for opening acts were perfect appetizers, slowly but surely drawing the crowd from the novelty of mingling in a live music venue bar to being capable, and willing, to let the music affect them. rogue wave was particularly impressive, putting forth a diverse but not meandering display of talent throughout the night's setlist. sometimes too much like death cab or wilco, but never always like too much of anything.

ffwd --> define time well spent. matthew caws has what what everyone else in the room has taken upon themselves to rely on someone else for. the ability to transform every bit of the walls, people, and single malt scotch into his own personal creation. the environment bends to both his voice and the melodic background set forth by a band that continues to be undervalued by those who should simply know better at this point. good music is in, because it can never leave our longings. shows like the one presented last night fill this need in the most fundamental ways, leaving all of those who experienced it as different human beings. music has a way of changing us, and knowing exactly how you want to be changed is best learned though the sounds of those more talented than the rest. for over two hours, nada surf held the stage and all who gathered round it in complete captivity, and it is the latter of those involved who should feel most blessed.

Q & A

i am asked questions about t.price from time to time and even less frequently i answer them. but in the spirit of president's day i will answer all questions in this thread, no matter how obvious or long the answer is. here's one from january:

question from reader: where does your wit come from?

there is a place where the early morning dew is so sweet that the inhabiting fauna all have diabetes. the evening sunset lasts most of the day, and the breeze blows south-easterly, to cool the 80 degree afternoons. an old man is always feeding the ducks, who have grown plump with contentment. folken distill their own whiskey and age it in oak barrels for 50 years. never a worry crosses anyone’s mind, mostly due to the opium in the water. that is a nice place to summer. my wit, however, comes from a mason jar in the basement that used to hold a firefly.

eh

i lay on the beige carpet in the early afternoon. sunlight streams in through the leaded glass windows and lands in an arc across my face and chest. i think about why things progress slowly on sundays. and then about how the cold slows electrons. i put down the dictionary that i was reading. it is surprising how few times you will turn to an “a” or “z” word even when you convince yourself that you are finding pages at random. it might seem unfair to me that i was stuck in the chill while others bask in the heat if i thought the word fair had any meaning left. it never occurs to me to turn the book to the “f”s.

replacing memory with memory

some of my favorite shows of all time have been at the hands of a certain b. scallions and his bandmates, which pains me to direct your attention to the below link...

http://www.alternativeaddiction.com/news.asp?action=detail&article=551

this bit of information only furthers the dismantling of many of my adolescent pastimes. fuel concerts, pirates nlcs games, and a wide collection of other fond memories have been officially (or logically) relegated to just that. college had to end at some point, but there was hope that other more globally relevant items would remain forever. i'm not sure where fuel falls into that spectrum, but i didn't go to college with brett, and it just feels depressing.

impressions of nada

in the sundevil state for the weekend, where a series of events has brought to light a variety of realizations about my own worldviews (dim scale as minimal)...

nada surf plays 4 blocks from my hotel, tomorrow evening. i don't have exact numbers on the average number of shows that any of my favorite bands may play in their lifetime, but i would imagine that it is slightly larger than the number of sedonas and grand canyons in the world. that said, tomorrow night will most likely shove my previous weekend experiences to a distant second. priorities have a way of surfacing in this way, rendering 1000 to 1 ratios as particularly useless.

also on the subject of impressive natural formations, my preference remains closely tied to the ocean. maybe my dislike of extreme heights has something to do with it, but i have to imagine that a pending trip spent traveling the pch at high speeds will be a significantly more rewarding experience than the past few days of driving through the red rock of arizona. even a week spent at a beach on the east falls into a more impressive category.


all is a game

cope vs. skoal

while returning body double at giant eagle i noticed a formidible line had formed at the ticketmaster counter. fearing i’d missed the announcement of an avril concert i rushed over to see what the fuss was about. my anxiety turned into disgust and should’ve-known type recognition when i saw that they were all waiting for a country music show, kenny-ray mcgraw or something. i thought i left the south when i came home from school, but western pennsylvania has an uncalled for country contingent (and not the cowboy hat wearin’ good kind, but the nascar hat wearin’ hybrid). it is very worrisome, and i fear complex, meaningful lyrics may be driven to extinction in this area soon. i blame the close proximity to west virginia.

get all the marmalade

i was shocked and saddened to see yet another alleged hazing incident involving a fraternity and a goat, this time at western kentucky university. things like this reflect poorly upon me, a former brother at north carolina a&m polytechnical goatherding college. although we used goats in certain “rites of passage” for new initiates, it was strictly for academic purposes and i assure you that no non-humans were harmed. i miss college.

where have all the cowboys gone?

current windshield in rapid city, my present location, is -43 degrees

projected temperature in phoenix, my location 6 hours from now, is 73 degrees

it may or may not have been matt pond that mentioned this to me, but three digit temperature swings are best experienced over a 6 month span.

it's a good night for substance abuse on the asu campus, or so i've heard. i'll be more talkative when it's warmer.

mppa

matt pond pa played their brand of melodic pop at club café last night, to the delight of the sold-out crowd. surprising even me, the audience was very well behaved and pleasant and for this i think the crispness of the set was mostly responsible. matthew and co. played songs mostly from several arrows later and emblems (including “kc”, “closest(look out)”, “new hampshire”, and “close”). like the last show in october, however, the best song was “measure 3”, which seemed to unite the crowd into one organism, feeling no contempt toward any limb that may be dancing poorly or rubbing annoyingly against another limb. the only thing i regret is that my lady friend rebecca and her gentleman friend william couldn’t watch the show with me. well, that and asking matthew to marry me after the show.

unrelatedly, i know matt is a fan of queen and you can bet your oliver peoples glasses i am too. so i was pleased to find q-unit, a white album type blending of 50 cent and queen tracks. if you are anything like me, this blends your love of freddie mercury with your hard knock past from the streets.

da ba dee da ba da

like reports of positive news in the world's relationship with north korea, the frequency of contribution to this site on my part is becoming repeatedly miniscule. there is something about continually being out of town (in this case, out of a city of any sort) that breeds a certain distaste for exacting any effort beyond the professional duties that dragged my ass out here in the first place. i regret that i must put more effort into eating, because it always involves going somewhere. asking for things. criticism and critique dutifully follow. more wine usually fixes this. i place less effort into my time in the gym, or more accurately, less time overall. hotels are built on the idea of escape, and the only thing on my mind is the idea of maintenance. confusion ensues.

i see that t. price has moved into the realm of deep discussion, with much of this centered on a selected few memories from the memories of those our age. i'm certain that smurfette would have been mine in such a situation as the one previously described, but that i would have soon grown tired of such a possession. the jealousy of my neighbors is something that i welcome, but not necessarily something that should be hard coded into the unwritten bond between two human beings. perhaps smurfs are different regarding such matters. lacking responsibility can have that effect on a mind. i've given less credible ideas a chance at success.

kool aid and carpet squares

one of my favorite stories is that of the creation and subsequent salvation of smurfette. it contains many lessons applicable in today’s world.

to paraphrase, basically gargamel (in his endless attempts to exact revenge on the smurfs) came up with a brilliant new plan. He would send the up-to-now all male smurf village a female smurf. thus he created smurfette in his laboratory and among the ingredients were a peck of bird brain, the tip of an adder’s tongue, half a pack of lies (white of course), the vanity of a peacock, and the guile of a vixen. (thanks bluebuddies.com) she was created as a brunette with straight, stringy hair, ugly eyelashes, and a plain dress. after being planted in the forest smurfette was discovered crying and invited back to smurf village where she proceeded to cause loads of trouble. after seeing this, papa smurf decided something must be done and transformed the unhappy (and ugly) smurfette into the blonde bombshell she is today. this caused a change of heart among the smurfs and they accepted her as one of their own.

it is a touching story about not simply ignoring ugly outcasts but extending a hand in changing them into something generally accepted by society to be more pleasant to look at and be around. and being blond plays a nontrivial part.

one among thousands

...the gym around lunch. the cardio elliptical machines that i want to use are all taken so i curse the AARP under my breath as i decide to lift legs instead. videos from madonna, hall and oates, and justin timberlake fail to quell my anger. some guy who looks like dr. rey from doctor 90210 is stretching with a stick right in front of the mini-decline where i like to work on abdominals. i pass by and do a faux-karate move to block and dodge, knowing he won’t get the joke. he thinks i’m being friendly, but that is about as close to the truth as simple plan is to releasing a listenable song. i wonder, ‘did i grow up according to plan?’ as i walk into the locker room, not sure of the answer…

dementia?

i have a questionable relationship (obsession) with purity. it is something that needs dealt with constantly because functional living is not possible with bedfellows such as that. i am not talking about the idea of perfection, which is as subjective as beauty (richard bach says the sky is perfect but ever-changing). but rather, the kind of homogeneity that, when broken, causes sharp contrasts. for example, 42 straight days at the gym or seeing the same stylist for 10 years. i feel the need to battle entropy and unsurprisingly i am losing.

why write

when J-D writes for you? from wwti:

In an industry obsessed with outward appearances, explanations are being offered to explain the visible pound fluctuations of megastar Janet Jackson, 39.
Janet’s boyfriend Jermaine Dupri tells the New York Times that the singer’s widely-reported weight gain from 118 pounds to about 160 pounds was deliberate.
“She gained weight for an indie role,” Dupri said, explaining she was supposed to play a mother in the 'Deep South,' but the role eventually fell through

through what? the marginally weakened floorboards under her? zzzinggg. seriously, her six pack was one of the driving influences in my life. it's just sad.

outRAGEous two

this is the main reason i don’t hang out with six year old children. i get enough sexual harassment at the bath houses. this article also has a great lesson for why women shouldn’t act like bears

In 1996, a New York second-grader was suspended for kissing a girl and ripping a button off her skirt -- an idea the boy said he got from his favorite book "Corduroy," about a bear with a missing button.

rush more - or less

back in the same south dakota hotel bar as last week, where the bar doesn't mean anything.

i'm starting to feel the frustration of being "out of town", if you will, and my thoughts have combined themselves into a single feeling of longing, towards friday, towards going back east. the fact that i'll be back to this place once again, come monday, means nothing, and that's just how it is. austin looms in the near future, which provides some level of comfort.

recent purchases include a flat panel lcd, the newest cell on the market, and a necklace from tiffany, none of which has dimmed the previously mentioned obsession with "going home". the last of the purchases, in conjunction with last weekend's visit to the south, proved to be a gift worthy of creating happiness. apparently this is possible. but perhaps, and only perhaps, it can only truly occur on birthdays.

on to details that have very little to do with events that contain the attributes of both personal and current. apple ran its latest anti-pc ads without the permission of intel. 98% of intel's current revenue is driven from the inclusion of its processors in pcs. there are occasional instances of board room conversations that would make good television. google continues to be the most interesting item on the market. canada's election system is completely fucked. their approach to health care is considerably worse than that. if anyone, bano killed rock.

outRAGEous

this really gets under my skin. apparently there has been a lack of officiating competency during a round of america’s pasttime, the spelling bee. according to cnn little sara had spelled discernible correctly, but was “rung up” by the judge. the officials are refusing to let her back in the competition because her parents waited to protest until after the bee was over. a flattering quote by sara’s mother speaks volumes:

Her mother, Cindy, calls herself a "momma bear with her bear claws out" and is ready to go to court

having been in bees when i was younger i know the towering highs and canyon-like lows of the sport. ending a career like this could be very damaging to little sara. but cindy has the right idea; the only thing more effective than a bear is a bear and a lawyer.

hook'em horns

i read an article in business week about the death of the rock industry. this remains in question.

little else to say...

http://2005.sxsw.com/music/showcases/date/2005-03-16.html

fashion week

it is once again time to gear up for the fall fashion season as new york's olympus fashion week is about to conclude. time has a slideshow depicting highlights of the week. my favorite is actually the first photo of jake from the scissor sisters. wonka meets a gay freddie mercury. but boy can he sing. in the spirit of the week, i will answer any fashion questions posted in the comments section. here's a freebie:

q. is a sweater vest too informal to wear with a suit?

a. no, with discreet pinstripes you should wear a subdued blue or charcoal gray vest. a plaid suit would call for a bolder vest. but avoid matching the vest's pattern with your socks or tie. wearing argyle socks with an argyle vest will look too studied.

why

did anyone quick of the eye notice that the saturday t.price post has vanished? i didn't delete it, so one of three others must have: the grand master of the patriot act (for mention of a united states military program), matt groening (for shamelessly quoting a simpsons episode), or blogspot mods for unknown reasons. in any case the censorship tastes bitter, like that first clove you eat in the morning, or a beer and gin smoothie.

weaning

people like this mother have always aroused my ire. she feels that it is a good idea to let her children decide when they want to quit sucking food out of her nipples. quotes like the following from elizah, 7, illustrate why this is perhaps not the best idea:

I don’t want to be weaned. I want to breastfeed forever.

but aside from the blatant psychological issues there is the gross-tastic issue of her doing it in public. now i don’t know this woman but i would guess that she, like my condo-owners’ association, would have a problem with me getting the mail (only a hundred foot trek) in my boxer briefs. even if my tan was impeccable, et cetera. why? because 7 year olds with breasts in their mouths may get ideas.

so emotional, baby

can you sense the excitement building? if it has not become obvious by now, i have a taste for everything whitney houston. many of you know my feelings on “the greatest love of all”, and how i spend a half hour each week watching the “how will i know” video on repeat (i love the dancing sax player). and now, it appears, she is going into the studio to record a new album. anyone who has seen being bobby brown may be concerned about her apparent lack of sanity, possible coke habit, or the condition of the human race in general but clive davis has assured us everything is copacetic. let us hope so, clive. let us hope and pray.

alright, hands on the reins

it appears that operating a horse/bicycle under the influence in south dakota is almost legal again.

South Dakota lawmakers think it's better to have drunks on horses and bikes instead of behind the wheel.

The state Senate Judiciary Committee approved a bill today that will remove horses and bikes from drunken driving laws, meaning intoxicated people who either pedal or spur their way home cannot be arrested for drunken driving.

i say it’s about time. whenever the chance of injuring your own moron self outweighs the chance of injuring someone else the act should be legal, right? at least in south dakota?

perhaps i am not victor ward should have rented a bronco instead of a tahoe. and bought a cowboy hat instead of a three piece valentino pin-striped suit.

back to the present

sitting in a hotel bar, where the number of cowboy hats exceed the number of sport coats by a wide margin. this hotel has been consistently referred to as the "most exclusive" in rapid city, though my experiences have led to doubts in this area. they serve grey goose in a plastic cup, and i drink it just the same. the same as it ever was. fuel has released a best of compilation, which serves to both confuse and bother me. there was a night in cleveland, once, when that wasn't the case. i can also name a long list of other times when i felt differently.

best show i've ever been to. sophomore year, trip to winston salem, nc. a club that i can't remember, and a performance i'll never forget. some of the wake forest guys understood, but most did not. the same as it ever was. i'm wondering why i rented a tahoe for the week, and also continuing to think about that album. disgust tends to breed nostalgia, and i can't help but feel both considering the circumstances. this place, that album, my fantastic memories. it all adds up to something.

faeries

someone asked me a while ago if i ever “did” the green faerie. the answer, of course, was yes. i did her again last night. that and the paint fumes were the only things that made dubyah and the endless mind-numbing applause breaks bearable. this particular faerie was from france. i know, i know, but she was a hardbody and smelled like licorice. and, really, when have you ever seen a faerie that was overweight?

earlier than it once was

it is possible to remain connected in some way despite a feeling of total seclusion.

from a hotel room in rapid city, south dakota. i ordered the newest cell phone on the market, just to say that i have the newest cell phone on the market. i had swordfish tonight, which is more or less a worthwhile venture in any state. w. was on the television, though the time zone change always makes things more bizarre for me. alito was sworn in as well on this day, an event that has caused a predictable amount of support from me. all of these things have little to do with my current location.

it all makes sense.

captain america says...

according to this cnn article the new car smell which i love more than chanel no. 5 is at least in part caused by toxic chemicals. you might assume that this would make me rethink the 5 new-car-smell air fresheners in my powder room but nay. i mean, my favorite fragrance on a woman is gin mixed with scotch and a touch of gasoline.

jack and trixie

it appears that i will be getting a sizable tax refund check from the president. though partly due to non-compensated <fingerquote>business</fingerquote> expenses, it is mostly due to having mortgage payments that are essentially all interest. bring on the cheap whiskey and expensive women. no. expensive whiskey and cheap women. yes, that’s right.

surfin usa

well east coast girls are hip
i really dig those styles they wear

last week the suggestion was made by someone in my firm's portland office, that i should move to the other coast. t. price has coincidentally contemplated such action in his own life. or so it was written.

i wish they all could be california girls

portland isn't california, and i'm partial to hip. maybe i'll move, and remember the song in a different order. maybe the east is home. the kids on the oc and laguna beach, they have stress. it's vital to the script. maybe they're partial to hip as well. brian wilson has never met me, but he probably should. i have a way of seeing things, and maybe we're closer than the song would suggest.

hang ten pappas

chris’s exploits in san diego are making me want to pick up and leave for the wes-coas. i’ve always wanted to learn to surf, but i have a few requirements. first, it must be part of a music-backed montage cutting from clips of me hopping up to a balanced position from flat on the board to clips of me missing waves looking disappointed, to me finally catching one and looking “stoked”. also, my teacher has to be lori petty. or at least a guy who has a haircut like hers circa 1991. all my east coast sins would be forgiven, and i would finally lose the respectability that’s plagued me for as long as i can remember.

avril

as i’m sure most of you have already concluded, i really dig (ha) avril lavigne. it’s not so much the predictable pop compositions or tired lyrics, but a certain something hard to define. I mean, pretty people are undoubtedly better than normal people, but i think maybe the thing i find cute is when musicians who are obviously pop singers think they are something different. self delusion is an attractive quality.

when i read this sun article about her getting into modelling i became excited. this passage especially brought back memories:

In the process of shedding her tomboy image Avril has begun experimenting with cosmetics and clothes.

i remember when i first experimented with cosmetics. i was fifteen and my parents were out for the day. of course, i didn’t know any better so i tried all the products at the same time: eyeliner, rouge, lipstick. now I know not to mix cosmetics, but that day i experienced the dark side of estee lauder. i ended up floating around the house for a while and then puking for an hour in cold sweats. i had to lock myself in my room when my parents came home and say i had gotten the flu. i woke up the next morning with a massive hangover (smudged lipstick, eyeliner smeared, and traces of red and black on my hands and sheets).

just thought that i had to be in compton soon

the boyz in the hood, they're alwayz hard...

i once considered that had my person been cultivated in the hood, or in a hood of any sort, that things may not have turned out any differently. this doesn't necessarily frighten me, nor does it interject any significant level of fate-based vision on my part.

currently, i live in the city. i'm close enough to the beach to matter. and i'm not home enough to care. i consistently wake up to sub-par videos on the television, though i rarely make a change in that regard. i take more time planning the discs in my car's changer than i do in planning a rare day when i'm slotted to do development work in my office. packing for a business trip is an art i'm studying. a well fitting suit can be drastically underrated. red wine every night, and there are very few exceptions to that, no matter what city i'm in. my cell minutes in a given month surprise me. every time.

i think that somewhere in between here and there, these are some of the things that could matter to someone.

life is short

i just listened to wolf parade’s “shine a light” 11 straight times. i watched the video a couple times on on demand last night before the o.c. as well. the singer sounds more than a little like the lead singer in dynamite hack, whose voice i also like. although it is difficult to understand, the song is a “life is short” –themed ode to over-living, the mantra of which i respect but don’t generally follow. it really gets the blood moving, though, and it made me consider that perhaps there is more to life than just blogging and being third shift assistant greeter at walmart.

diary

neither the love of a woman nor a man (er, i’m told) compares to the announcement that the following will share the same warm air as you and some diluted rum in the near future:

minus the bear, mates of state, the magic numbers, thomas dybdahl, cat power, ted leo, the m’s, nada surf, ok go, the go! team, new pornographers, sia, her space holiday

hint: chenault won’t be there

another nice guy

i am saddened to hear of the death of nice guy eddie (aka chris penn). i think this is a time for all of us to reflect upon our lives of crime, reevaluate our priorities, and take some advice from the late actor:

okay, first things fuckin' last!

RIP

bonjour fish-man

i would be willing to substitute a fair amount of surprising elements for their anticipatory counterparts. what remains significant about known events that serve to build up expectation is that perception changes along the way. while surprise can be powerful, it is nevertheless instantaneous in nature. it's impact can only be measured against future returns.

expectation, on the other hand, provides a multi-dimensional driver for change. happiness that extends from this sort of catalyst can be valued at a higher level of worth. the realist sees the future with this sort of outlook. for better, for worse, and everywhere in between, the energy spent longing for the unexpected is better spent valuing the known road ahead.

cleo

the music videos on the televisions at the gym today were about a song and a half behind the audio through the speakers. this was disconcerting not only because watching jessica simpson sing the fine young cannibals’ “she drives me crazy” is lurid, but also because the uncertainty of the future was gone. I knew five minutes before the puppets came on screen that genesis’ “land of confusion” was next. i wonder if i can have any fun at all without some element of surprise.

break out the champagne. of beers.

i, for one, cannot wait unti this program airs. as one of the faithful buttafuoco (jesus jake help you if you misspell his name) supporters in the early nineties i took a lot of criticism. but i have no doubt this will lead to both of our redemptions.

down here, i believe

back on the east coast
it's not that people are different here
i'm just more willing to notice

saturday night
a girl asks me what i do for a living
what do you call this, i ask
blank stare, half smile, no words
i can't help but think...
maybe you're right

will work for food
is that what she was looking for?
if life has become too complex
if drawing that line is no longer possible
is it ok with you if we stay alive for a while longer?
i can change

to care is not to understand
i care very much about living
my bag is full of pencils

give to caesar

it appears jesus plummer may be crucified, if not by the city of denver, then by the general media. why must this happen every two thousand years, give or take?

from the city

i don't listen to country music
i remember being bored once
1995, a night at the beach
maybe that would have been an opportunity
things are different now

baby you can drive my pickup

while watching the bodyguard and perusing i blame the patriarchy i came across this article about the growing acceptance of smokeless tobacco use among young women. needless to say i am not undisturbed. how many people actually listen to gretchen wilson?

speaking from another

i have friends that are best listened to on paper. on a screen. always after drinking. certainly them, possibly me. and at a distance. one such friend passed these lines to me last night, and it was more elegant than anything that i had to say. it is best that my friends are left longing for more. my interest is defined by it. more or less.


tell me something beautiful,
but maybe not so typical
as a walk on the beach
or cuddling by the fire,
cause i need more
than just air to breathe,
or a sweet idea
of what love is meant to be.

where are we now,
that it seems like so long ago
we both believed
our precious notions.

and through it all
i pinch myself;
but i'm trapped in restless sleep,
looking for the dream
that i want to awake to,
but it flickers away in a
mist of misunderstanding
and causes pity to rain down
and wash the ground
away into some nothing.

and so day after day
i sit lonesome,
wishing for something typical;
just for starters i'll build you a fire, and we can walk along
the beach to your heart's desire, if you promise not to go,
and i'll call you beautiful, because that's who you are.

love spelled backwards is evol

i had the pleasure of hearing omega love last night at a small venue. well worth the hassle from the homeless guy (Al) who somehow was in the process of switching HMOs and needed a little cash advance for a procedure. I was in a good mood, though, since omega took the edge off while smoothing out my evening and my companion’s hair smelled like coconut and lime.

a bland flavor...

dinner with mayor nagin...

picked up at seven-thirty. stretch hummer. twenty-twos. runs on polluted water extracted from the mouths of drowned white katrina victims. we drive fast. chocolate cities conform to actions such as this. the excessive heat does little to dampen the mood. no a/c. funds are best diverted to diversity. museums. galleries. these are important. people need to see where they come from. they learn from it. white males develop guilt from it. nobody goes.

conversation is kept at a minimum. the budget is equally as tight in this regard. remembering when jazz was not important. i'm not comfortable with that. cajun food is overrated. nagin begins to compare the levees to a street curb. i'm wondering if either is worthy of continued mention. he loses me in a sea of saints fans. they're on their way to texas. i'm considering leaving as well. coastline without a beach should never be trusted. and i don't drink milk. people like nagin wouldn't understand that. people like nagin like to rebuild. they alter milk because it wasn't right the first time. they fix things, then forget. nobody pays attention. i prefer to make better selections.

maybe that's being a little vanilla.

damage control

"How do you make chocolate? You take dark chocolate, you mix it with white milk, and it becomes a delicious drink. That is the chocolate I am talking about," he said. "New Orleans was a chocolate city before Katrina. It is going to be a chocolate city after. How is that divisive? It is white and black working together, coming together and making something special."

~new orleans mayor Nagin (from cnn)

ah, yes. The old, ‘mix anything with chocolate and you get chocolate’ multiplicative property of chocolate. But is he suggesting that the minority mint population doesn’t work as hard as the white and black? If so this error is egregious indeed, because as anyone who has dined at the upscale olive garden knows, those after supper mints look chocolate. But, oh, the taste is something altogether different and magical.

break bread in the house of the removed

it's late and the room is cold
i set the cold
chose the late

how can i feel the sun
when the stars don't mean anything

i learn when i want to
not that there's anyone out there to teach
it's just that i can easily filter life
into the tiny pixels that compose

i like that the sun lacks this ability

for chelsea

consumer
his body’s perfection
her soul’s decay


before anyone cries syllabic rape consider:

In the beginning is the form. In Japanese a haiku is traditionally 5-7-5 sound syllables. All languages cannot duplicate this method of counting syllables so foreign language writers must decide to either follow the method by writing 5-7-5 syllables in their own language. However if they prefer to imitate the product, the translated Japanese haiku, their poems must consist of less words. In English we cannot have both method and translated product correct in one poem so each of us must choose one system or the other. Beginners (especially if better acquainted with Western poetry) often do well to follow the 5-7-5 discipline at first. Later, when they become comfortable with saying what they want said in the least words, as it is easier to switch to the shorter styled haiku in a natural movement. This does not mean that 5-7-5 haiku are beginners' work; many, many very good writers insist on remaining with the form scheme.

from jane reichhold

wonder...full...never fooled

i wonder if you wonder. where has he gone? did he not see his participation in my life as essential, scratch that, beneficial to my daily dose of normalization? you were better off without me. now read what i have to say...

over the last two weeks, i have earned more than ten thousand frequent flyer miles. words like bonus and segment and upgrade have found their way into this convoluted mind of mine. in chicago, a man (no woman could pull such a thing) grabbed my overcoat in a hurried attempt to reach a connecting flight. inexplicably, i returned his similarly tailored garment to the lost and found. wishful thinking comes in grey tweed as simply as it does midnight black. it's just that i traded much of my time for the expertise that came in selecting just the right coat, a ralph lauren for christ's sake. the airlines delayed my luggage three days later. tuesday, today, was spent wearing monday's clothes, and without an overcoat. pinstriped pants cannot account for everything that we lack. write that down.

philadelphia. denver. chicago. washington d.c. charlotte. rapid city. new york. new york. pierre. back to philly, y'all. this is my life, in a two week photograph.

mtv isn't satisfying, and it has nothing to do with bad videos. when i look at my ipod nano, black, four gig, impeccably simple, i wonder why it's not smaller. i wonder why i haven't slept in my own bed for two weeks. can magazines replace east coast air? i have more passwords than accounts. ketel one, splash of tonic, twist of lime. that's where i'm headed. it's the new you. it's still the same me. welcome. rewind. pause. frame by frame, please. it's just that's it's been a while.

i've been naked in the ocean before. there are some things that can fail to live up to expectations without ever disappointing. don't ask me to list their names.

clicking

MTVhits was running one-hit wonders last night. you really can't ever get enough of "how bizarre" and "who let the dogs out". even so i decided to break up the continuous stream of top-notch artists with some other cable channels. after a while it became apparent what has happened. the funniest television show on the air is no longer the daily show, but it's spinoff the colbert report. colbert packs in more genius absurdity and comedic timing than stewart while still saying something meaningful about politics through sarcasm. if this conclusion seems obvious and late to you then let me just state that i don't watch very much non-music-video television. if, on the other hand, you disagree with this contention then you are most likely incorrect.

a matter of time

my new favorite blog is two chinese boys. as I’m not one to refrain from making generalizations, i’ll state with some confidence that the far east has now overtaken the western world and is the best at webcam lipsynching (with choreography), a natural progression from their microelectronics dominance. i’m impressed both by the guy in the background and the wardrobe selections. i have, of course, already requested “sussudio” .

proregress

the time it takes me to convince myself that something i previously disliked is now o.k. or even good is continually decreasing. for example, i now actually believe that powdered whey protein (previously unpalatable) tastes good. does this mean that i am slowly losing my distinguishing tastes and characteristics or that i am on the path to enlightenment?

extended youth

at an appointment yesterday i was told for the second time in a 12 hour period that i look younger than i am. estimates ranged from 3 to 5 years. i attribute this mostly to my winning attitude and avoidance of stress. however, it could also be due to the honey almond body scrub, pomegranate salt scrub, champagne facial peel, or anti-wrinkle eye balm. but most important, i think, is a youthful attitude.

a wild bore

while reading prettier than napoleon i came across this, quoting an old post by scalzi that discussed whether (good) writing can be learned or only admired from a distance by the untalented.

...getting trapped in an academic feedback loop of writing is pretty damn useless. All you do is hang out with other would-be writers, writing writerly little stories to impress them. You're not actually learning much about anything or anyone else. My own guess is that this has led to the really fabulously boring world of modern literary fiction, where all the writing is terribly clever but doesn't actually say anything of consequence to anyone who's not already a writer or wishing they were. In other words, modern literary fiction is just like sitting in a room full of people who are delighted to smell their own farts. Good for them, but I'd like to go outside, if it's all the same.

i recognize myself as one of the people in the room. and i feel pretty good about it. experience over imagination? i disagree with scalzi on this. after all, there is skill in being terribly clever but saying nothing of consequence. but there is even more skill in saying something altogether new using characters who are clever but say nothing of consequence. and sometimes saying nothing of consequence to non-writers is a heavy statement itself.

brad pitt saved the city, man

steelers win. this is something that i can live with. it's something that matters to me. up until this week, i had never put any financial interest in their games. i wasn't sure that it was worth the possibility of losing both joy and money simultaneously. i like the fact that i can look back at ideas such as this and recognize the bullshit. the times i lied to myself. now, recognize the clarity. the pursuit of the highest level of satisfaction remains the only pursuit worth sacrificing fear for.

define satisfaction. lately i've been capable of doing so for a given moment. sometimes, chaos ensues. other times, i'm simply content to sit on leather chairs, drink vodka martinis, enjoy the quiet of the surroundings that i created. that this can be done from within the city should not surprise you. the idiocy of this portal of a world has little to do with my ability to control any particular portlet. you couldn't stop me if you wanted to.

i win. again. surprise.

lemurs man

we have developed, shall we say, alternatives to understanding. in a collective sense, of course. superficiality. check. ignorance. check. skewed worldviews. never kept in check. nevertheless, check. i find each of these necessary in attempting to deal with the relentless task of coping with you. it isn't that i don't know any better. it is merely that i know so much more than you. and for this, i never intended to be forgiven. unless you're in to that sort of thing.

today i won hundreds of dollars because of a football game that i did not play in. today mtv ran a documentary about the difficulties of paying 600 a month in rent. it's not that i wished that those people watched more football, because the solution must be more complex than that. complexity breeds the results that the most capable among us find useful. the fact that i aligned myself with a sports team from the country's capitol has little to do with that.

it is now that time of the night where i head to a bar with no diluted rum, no specks, and the high probability of being admired. the details fold themselves around such things.

like a pro. noun.

you cook our meals, you haul our trash, you connect our calls, you drive our ambulances. you guard us while we sleep. we should not fuck with you. when i mentioned you before it was in the collective sense. while i am not victor ward wants to understand you, i am much more skeptical. oh, you are interesting. and powerful. and sinister as well as pure. but i don't have enough faith to think i'll ever understand you. i find it difficult (but not impossible) to understand even one entity, and i consider myself ahead of the game. maybe my attitude is unhealthy and i could take a page from i am not victor ward. or maybe i just need some diluted rum.

hello, you

so the trinity has been set. david, tim, you. though many would suggest otherwise, i am mostly conscious of who the first two members are, that is, i have learned enough to recognize both myself and many of my friends on the first attempt. as for the third party...hello, you. i would say that it is relatively important that we grow to understand each other, but we will stick to exchanging truths for the time being. hello, you, stranger. we're in this together. learn to be in this alone.

disappear here...

n.y. s.o.s.

it appears that nothing has changed since last year. and, more to that point, life has already started repeating itself. i turned on a music television channel this morning during my exercise routine and i saw two videos that dominated MTVHits in february 2005: j.lo's get right and the killers' mr. brightside. both are good videos, though, and they helped me get back my groove, which i'd lost for a while.

the new strokes album is getting good reviews. it is--correctly--being heralded as a departure from is this it? (and also room on fire) territory. that is, it is good we didn't get another clone of the first two records. but is it really better? after hearing "juicebox", their first single, i thought not. but it has indeed grown on me with repeated listenings. i am also very fond of "razorblade". but the other couple songs i've heard seem bland and almost alt-y. more pelvis and less grey matter.