It's All Gray Matter

Pain is Just Weakness Triple-Jumping Out of the Body

2008-03-27T16:07:00.007-05:00

I'm headed to Little Rock, Arkansas this weekend for a wedding. I'm excited, as it's an excuse to buy a new suit. Every time I travel there, I'm reminded of an incident back at my first high school, an all-boys joint known as St. Louis Priory. The key piece of information for this story is that at that time, almost every kid took French for a few years.

I was running track as a Freshman, and an intense maniac, a Senior who was the de facto captain of the team, ran up alongside me. He asked me why I wasn't going to make the track meet that weekend, as his primary duty was to intimidate 14 year olds into running faster. I replied that I was headed to Little Rock.

For some reason, he replied that "You know, in French, they call that Petite Rock." I shot back, "No, they'd call it Petite Pierre"* He looked infuriated, and said something to the effect of "Hey Drew, how about you shut the f**k up!"

I think he may have had me run an extra lap or two. But I remember faking like it was really difficult, so, pleased that I'd been sufficiently tortured, he'd let me stop. It was easy to run the additional distance, because at the time I knew that while he was running around a rubber ring that weekend, I'd be wiping the condensation from the ring of a lemonade glass in warm ol' Arkansas. Sucker!!

*Pierre means "rock" in French

YouTube and YouTube but You Can Only Tube So Much

2008-03-25T10:41:00.004-05:00

Too many times, we only hear bad news because bad news is what sells. I was talking to someone this past weekend, and she said that she had nothing left on the internet to view. She'd reached the edge. And I said, yeah you know that CNN will have a mother-kills-child story on the front page. Or father off the bridge, she added. Well, check out what I was greeted with yesterday.

Well I'm no sellout, so I'm going to report some good news. In YouTube form.

First up is a video of me shaking a leg at a recent party. Yes, you heard that right. I'm in a blue shirt in the video, humping a wall until shortly after 2:00 through. But the last :20 are killer. And not killer in the downer sense of the word (I'm looking at you, CNN with the hiker junk). I get one sweet move in, watch for it!

Next there's one of my friends' new baby boy, adopted from Ethiopia. Follow it all at their blog, or just kick back and watch the cute little guy here.

Hope these put a smile on your face!

Something's in the Attic and It Smells... Musty.. Yeah, Kinda Musty

2008-03-18T15:28:00.005-05:00

If I had to come up with a porno, you know like if a guy came up to me and put a gun to my head in a dark alley, and said "Hey, kid, use that great head of yours to come up with a plot for a porno, or your brains and that wall are going to get mighty well acquainted," I'd call it MOTHBALLS.

It obviously would star a half woman/half moth - her genetic makeup would be covered in flashbacks, showing actual "genetic makeup." This 1/2 and 1/2 (I'd call her Susie Roth (part moth)) would be inexplicably drawn to bright lights, moving from rural Kansas to the bright lights of Wichita. The obvious dances of love would ensue, and since I'd model it after the great Grecian dramas, it would be complete with a chorus (played by the Flaming Lips, obviously) and a tragic end to our heroine.

The tagline would be "Imagine 'the Fly,' if Jeff Goldblum had jugs, and cross it with Antigone... and you have MOTHBALLS"

Holly GoEasyOnMe

2008-03-11T10:24:00.006-05:00

Some things about women are oddly hot. Like when a girl goes through her stealing phase, almost exclusively in high school, usually involving makeup. Or when a girl throws up the middle finger. Or is into gangster rap.

Hot burglar

Probably the hottest of the hot is when women form a posse of vigilantes that beat up men who abuse their wives in misogynist societies. Case in point, VICE Magazine recently ran a piece on a group of women in India who wear all pink and basically go around beating abusive men to a pulp. They're called the Gulabi Gang, and the most fascinating thing about them is their precise skills with giant sticks. Reminds me of a southern vigilante from a favorite movie of my father's and mine.

Walking Tall

Once I checked all the locks at my apartment and armed the burglar alarm, I tried to forget the image of a bunch of pink women beating me up for all the sexist jokes I'd told over the years. So I picked up my latest read, The Royal Family, by William T. Vollman. The story involves a gang of prostitutes led by a pimp-ess, and how together they are stronger than the individual parts. The leader is infinitely fearless, not to mention sexually surreal.

So of course I decided to venture outside, checking behind me every few minutes for giant sticks. I ended up at the gym. And what did I see? 10 women looking to fight me. I didn't stand a chance.

Sitar. Happier. More Productive.

2008-02-25T18:39:00.003-06:00

So, I've said some crazy stuff after my "spells." Usually, I have no recollection of these quips, unless someone clues me in. Apparently I said "Oh calm down you old battleaxe" to my mom once. Well, my friend told me that I was talking/typing a little odd mid-seizure. Like what, I asked. I then realized that I have my chats logged, so... behold the glory of a brain malfunctioning. [I think I'd taken my liquid medicine by this point.]

S****a: haha i bet youre feeling just great right about now
me: like jorge harrison playing sitar with jeus chirist hisssssself]

Come to think of it, George Harrison always seemed to have that nice and relaxed vibe, you know?

New YewTubesday!

2008-02-19T13:41:00.003-06:00

So I decided to resurrect this unpopular feature with a new twist. I'm going to put up a YouTube video, then have what an alien from outer space would say, if he/she/he-she (hey, aliens have weird nads probably) somehow had earthly Internet access. And really liked to frequent YouTube, but didn't quite understand humans through it. Ok, I hope that explains it... enjoy!

Thumbelina, the Martian midget hooker from Total Recall, would say...

"Wait... he's a midget? In reflective clothing? Is he single?"

You Learn Something Stupid Every Day!

2008-02-15T16:31:00.001-06:00

Like this.

Oh, and the answer to last week's quiz was A. Looks like I have some spam to write! Now I just need a pen name...

FFF: Junk Mail Edition

2008-02-08T10:34:00.000-06:00

Guess the spam headline that I didn't receive in my inbox.

A. Be and astronaut and rocket her to the moon
B. Hidden in your pants is a Hollywood story that is incredibly huge
C. More howls than you can shake a shiver at
D. Lost your college sweetheart to the quarterback? Get her back with this

Oh and no answer until some people guess... I'm looking at you, Eugene, Neil, and Emily. Since you all claim to have guessed every one of these...

Summery Summary

2008-02-06T10:14:00.000-06:00

I went to Austin this past weekend. I ended up drunk on the plane and left my copy of the Brothers Karamazov (75% read) on the plane. It was 65 and sunny every day.

I'm Super Sirius about the Gym

2008-01-29T12:37:00.000-06:00

I've started attending a gym in the past month or so, and after about 10 visits, I've deduced the following lessons. They each have a Howard Stern reference, since both the gym and that seminal radio show have one thing in common: dirty vibes.

1. Expect the Unexpected
I walked into the locker room when I showed up at the gym. This old guy was sitting in there. I worked out, then walked back to the locker room to get my stuff. He now had a pack of frozen, boneless skinless chicken breasts in his duffle bag. I think they'd thawed by then though. So, if you psyche yourself to expect a drunk dwarf in a bunny suit (e.g. Hank the Angry Drunken Dwarf) on the elliptical, you'll be fine.

2. Every Girl Looks Exactly Alike
You know the type, they all have the same exact stretchy pants, they're all 5'0" to 5'6" and they're all 20-25. Except this old Indian woman I saw on a treadmill once. Oh and this chick who looked like John the Stutterer from the Howard Stern show.

3. Nobody Sweats
Yeah, I don't understand it either, but I guess the people at the gym aren't the ones who need the gym. Seriously, though, people.. if you come to the gym enough times, you'll look like Wack Pack member Nicole Bass

That's all for now, hopefully the more I work out, the more knowledge I acquire, and thus the more you learn.

First-Person False Fact Friday

2008-01-25T11:28:00.000-06:00

I know, this one's half-assed. But I'm committed to this Friday thing and I'm busy working for my brother today. So grin and bear it haha

Which one is not true?
A. I was given a $10 gift card this week from Wal-Mart... for doing nothing.
B. I'm going to a roller rink tonight... but I can't skate
C. I watched 2 girls 1 cup the other night... and couldn't sleep afterward.
D. There was a guy in a stall in my work bathroom. He was talking business in a foreign language, but all I could make out was "Fed ex." And he was definitely taking a dump simultaneously.
E. A monkey brain is sitting on a jar on the lab's lunch table.

YouTubesday: U is for Underage

2008-01-22T21:14:00.000-06:00

***If you're reading an imported version of this on Facebook, and the vids aren't showing up, just check out http://heyinaneedlestack.blogspot.com for them

This video makes me so happy, and I'm not really sure what cracks me up the most. I still can't figure out what exactly was going on at this party, I was too absorbed in the repartee.

Not content to leave it at that, the round the clock coverage resumed the next day, with this Corey character hanging out at the beach, not wanting to go home and face his parents. (Everything up until 1:30 is from the first video)

Seriously, if I were that reporter I'd question where I went wrong, why I ended up interviewing some drugged out, shaved-chest party boy, when I had dreams of an Pulitzer.

Find the False Fact Friday

2008-01-18T09:47:00.001-06:00

A. I'm going to watch a cheesy sci-fi marathon consisting of Highlander, Star Trek, and something else on MLK day
B. There's a species of banana slug that has a penis 5 times longer than its body length, the largest ratio on earth.
C. An answer of mine was picked the best answer to a question about relationships on Yahoo! Answers.
D. Dostoevsky, by all accounts, was a big asshole.
E. A world class pianist was caught with steroids.
F. A female friend of mine was hit on by one of the guys from Perfect Strangers (not Balki, but Larry)

YouTubesday

2008-01-15T13:48:00.001-06:00

I'm thinking it's time for another weekly feature. I need an excuse to post some Youtube videos, so here goes. After each one I've included my favorite comment from YouTube users, who crack me up more than the videos themselves. [PS - if they don't show up properly on your computer, let me know, I might have to shrink them down a little. Also, I don't know why "download video" is showing up. YouTube never shows that, there's nothing in the code, and clicking it does nothing.]

Fenslerfilm GI Joe PSA parodies have been cracking me up for years. I like to revisit them now and again, to cheer me up. Here's one of my favorites, but here are some other hilarious ones.

Lyght55:
'Reminds me of Captain Oveur from Airplane!
"Joey, did you ever hang around a gymnasium?"
"You ever been in a cockpit before?" "No." "You ever seen a grown man naked?"
"Joey, do you like movies about gladiators?"
"Joey, have you ever been in a Turkish prison?"'

If you're looking for something a little more... hmm how should I put it... highbrow, then check out this flashback video.

Gojira87: "This is why the world hates America. Look at what we did. I'm fucking ashamed of my country."

Ok, ok, highbrow was me being sarcastic. Here's one that is so good that I don't even mind the disgusting product placement.

czechman121: "wow this 8 min. movie is better then 90% of the shit in the theaters these days"

If you want a sports video, well...

chuckgeorge13: "Can't hate on that. Dude's nimble like a cat."

The First False Fact Friday!

2008-01-11T15:30:00.000-06:00

Subject: Writer/Director Vincent Gallo

A. Vincent Gallo used his personal website to sell his own semen. And his services in personally fertilizing a woman.
B. Vincent Gallo is a Republican.
C. Vincent Gallo served in the U.S. Marines for a brief period in the early 1980s. He was so distraught over the death of friend Jean-Michel Basquiat that he wanted out of action, and was given a dishonorable discharge.
D. There existed a $500 t-shirt with Vincent Gallo's face on it. Gallo required prospective buyers to fill out an application to purchase said garment.
E. Vincent Gallo dated Paris Hilton. And gave her VD (probably).
F. Vincent Gallo was a Calvin Klein underwear model.
G. Vincent Gallo put a curse on Roger Ebert's colon after Ebert showed considerable disgust for "The Brown Bunny" at Cannes. Ebert got colon cancer soon after. Gallo recanted, and the two squashed the beef.
H. Vincent Gallo was in a Rap Group named Trouble Deuce ... his rapper name was "Prince Vince"

Which one is a lie?? Answer in the comments section!

Should I make this a regular feature on here?

No Fear, Big Johnson!

2008-01-10T13:47:00.000-06:00

It occurred to me yesterday that modern man's (or woman's) lifespan can be broken down into periods of different types of fear. I'm going to list ages and the appropriate fear for that period in life.

0-2.5 years old: Shaken baby syndrome [fear, per se, doesn't exist.]
2.5-5 years old: Mental retardation [this is a parental fear, though.]
5-7 years old: Strangers/kidnapping
7-8 years old: Forest Fires/Clowns

8-10 years old: The Boogeyman/Scary movies
10-15 years old: Girls (or, Guys)
15-17 years old: Lifelong virginity
17-18 years old: Teen pregnancy

19-21 years old: Inability to find booze
21-24 years old: Your own proclivities/vices
24-26 years old: QUARTER LIFE CRISIS [inadequacies, death, illness, marriage, et c.]
26-30 years old: Job loss
30-35 years old: Hair loss

35-40 years old: Regret
40-60 years old: SARS/Anthrax/Terrorist Attack/Bird Flu

60-70 years old: Mad Cow
70-80 years old: Robots

|

80-100 years old: Anything shiny
100-120 years old: God
120-150 years old: The Devil [since you must've made a deal with him to live this long] or the fountain of youth [that the government will steal it from you somehow]

Oh, and the title is a reference to two of my favorite clothing lines from the early 90's. No Fear, obviously, and Big Johnson. Behold!

P.S. You'll notice that I have a few trademarked items on here. Until I figure out if posting these is breaking any law, I'll leave them up. Because pictures make it so much more pretty, right?

Bolton, Buntin' and Stankin'

2008-01-09T10:49:00.000-06:00

1. I just saw this guy downstairs (at my work) who looks like John Bolton. No small feat for the doppleganger, as Bolton looks like this:

2. My little sister and I used to do this thing called "belly bunting." In order to belly bunt, you had to puff out your stomach, and then sort of run at each other, trying to knock over the other one. I find no reference to this through google, so I can only assume that we invented it. I should patent it, it's like a cross between joust and red rover.

3. Chicken makes your farts meatier, according to credible sources. So I've switched Cassidy to a chicken less diet for her last week in Saint Louis.

Quick Appeal to Semantics

2008-01-02T16:40:00.000-06:00

If I did stand-up comedy, this would be one of my bits.

PMS stands for premenstrual syndrome. Syndrome, like as in Down's syndrome. No offense to women, I know cramps and chocolate cravings probably suck, but it's not like an extra chromosome appears for a week. Can't we just call it premenstrual jitters? What about preblood jitters. PBJ. Ok, dinner time!

200STR8

2008-01-02T14:15:00.001-06:00

I'm not one for New Year's resolutions. They seem overly optimistic and just a way to make polite conversation at whatever party you happen to be attending. Well, this year I made a vow, for the first time in my life.

You see, one of the things I'm thinking of doing in law school is intellectual property law. You can do a lot of good with it, as the cases seem to run company vs. individual or big company vs. little company. I've always had an interest in media copyright policy (i.e. music/film downloading issues).

So my resolution is to refrain from violating copyright law in 2008 as much as possible. If you think that you could do it completely, then duct tape your mouth before singing "Happy Birthday" and steer clear of YouTube. I challenge anyone to say they haven't violated copyright law in some trivial way.

That being said, I decided to eulogize my old stomping grounds, and mention a few businesses that I now expect to collect on my newfound morals. And I'll do this in the true spirit of the holiday, by comparing each to a person at a New Year's party.

Napster

Napster was the originator of this whole movement. I don't exactly remember who told me about it, but I remember it was very early on at college. I was blown away by the possibilities, and the slick interface was easy enough that within weeks of it first appearing in the dorms, everyone was hooked and suddenly had these giant libraries of music with which to dance. It all seemed too good to be true, and was. Napster is now an incredibly unsuccessful counterpoint to iTunes. Sell out.

Napster is like a guy throwing a party. He's older and buys the beer, and even sometimes gives it away just because he's a nice sumbitch. As time goes on, though, too many people start using him for his generosity, and he shaves his mustache and gets a desk job. He then picks up a wife, kids, and prescription drug habit, disappearing, except in the teary eyed, nostalgic drunk recollections of his former acolytes. One day he pops back up at a party, but he's lost it. Just lost it.

iMesh

iMesh was where everyone got their videos, and was peas to Napster's carrots. It sticks out in my mind because it showed the videos that no longer aired on MTV, and also because of one extremely popular video. Keep in mind, this was before YouTube, so if people were dancing in the Filipino prisons, you'd get the video off iMesh. It didn't hold up too well for the traffic it generated, though, and was thus a bad omen of things to come.

iMesh is the guy who shows up at a party first. He's not as good looking or suave or intelligent as the host. His whole game is trying to be around the host while carving off a little drunk something for himself. He shows up first so that he gets maximum drinking time for the night. He's inadvertently funny, however, and thus an important part of the development of a party.

WinMX

WinMX, as I think it was called, jumped into the mix pretty early and was memorable for exactly nothing. I'm not even sure that WinMX is the thing I used. That's how forgettable the whole operation was.

WinMX is like the guy who shows up with iMesh because it beats sitting around the dorm watching The Color of Night with some chicken tenders. He has big dreams but knows they won't come true.

Morpheus

Ah Morpheus. Finally, someone made an upgrade. Morpheus popped up on the scene, and no one really understood how it worked exactly. But they knew that they could grab new movies on the thing, or even some cheap songs now that Napster had sort of disappeared.

Morpheus is definitely the guy who shows up and suggests a game of Circle of Death. Although it seems like a yawner at first, you know that it'll lead to a big payoff - drunk girls. You don't know how he does it but you'll gladly reap the benefits.

Limewire

Limewire was the beginning of the end of the Napster form (P2P) of filesharing. Due to the success of Morpheus and the demise of a solid MP3 source, people wanted a program that had full CDs on it. Limewire ran as slow as molasses though, though nobody was sure why. Nevertheless, some people stuck with it, up until recently, as it appears that it is still functional.

Limewire is the girl that shows up to a crowd full of dudes, but doesn't seem to mind. She's nice to the point of being too nice, and people start to suspect she's up to something. But she's drinking like a pro, and is still a pretty nice option for the guys, despite the fact that she's already broken a chair and spilled red wine on the carpet.

Kazaa

Kazaa. Dear God, just typing it brings back chills. Limewire had done a little damage to my computer, but Kazaa didn't even hide the damage. It installed a good handful of harful software, and forced a few resets a day of my trusty old computer. The reason you put it on your computer was that it had an incredible amount of copyrighted material. You could grab thousands of dollars of CDs and movies in an hour. The reason everyone was on it, well... it was a consequence of it being impossible to uninstall and running in the background. It resulted in many a computer, including my own, to be discarded as "old" and "broken," when in fact it was just stupid-ass Kazaa.

Limewire has done a little damage to the party, and Kazaa threatens to ruin the whole thing. A friend of Morpheus, she is hot, and the rumor is that she will do anything with anyone. Guys, girls, midget strippers. Well, of course you fool around with her for a few early on at the party. It's cool until every single one of your friends gains some new perspective and new understanding of the female body, all from her. So you make a mental note to get an STD check, but know that by the time of the check it will be too late.

On a personal note, this reminds me of the time I was at a party in high school, and five guys, myself included, realized we all had spent alone time with the same girl, to varying degrees. We all said a few nostalgic words, then did a cheers to the hilarity of it all.

Audiogalaxy

Audiogalaxy was interesting for a few reasons. One, you had to go through the internet to pick songs. You then clicked some big box on the site next to the song you wanted, and the little applet opened up and promptly and politely placed it on your computer.

Audiogalaxy is like the girl who shows up at the party and doesn't get a glance. She's wearing a ponytail and glasses, and has a boyfriend. Three strikes in many a meathead's mind. However, if you talk to her a little, you'll see that she has some genuinely interesting things to say, and you find yourself satisfied in a way other than carnally. In fact, you find good conversation to be more scarce at a party than good action, which due to basic economic principles, makes it more valuable.

Direct Connect

Direct Connect was something a friend talked about. The premise was Marxist. If you shared, you reaped benefits, if you did not, you were S.O.L. Of course, then people would share a bunch of system files, basically their whole hard drive, including sensitive information, only to be greeted with millions of GB of TV shows like Stargate SG1.

Direct Connect is the guy that shows up with a handful of girls. You think, ah, great, this will even out the party's ratio. But he doesn't introduce you, and seems irritated that they're aren't many people at the party, especially girls. You try to talk to one of the girls, and she says something about not drinking, and says it really really loudly, while she gets shify eyed. He leaves with his stable, and nobody seems to mind.

Soulseek

Ahh, finally we get to the good stuff. Soulseek was another recommendation from a computer programmer friend, and introduced me to a lot of interesting musical outfits, from electronic, to underground rap, and beyond. The knowledge of the users is remarkable, and so of course you were more likely to find Autechre than Green Day on here. Apparently it is still up and running, and if you want to break laws for the both of us, try it out. And let me know what the cool kids are listening to nowadays.

This service was like the girl who walks into the party and causes a hushed silence. Why? Well it probably has to do with the fact that she's got purple hair and is wearing a torn up t-shirt with Basquiat on it. In other words, she's too cool to be hanging out at this party, and seems a little irritated at the lack of style as she chugs her bottle of authentic Russian vodka. Might as well make a play for her, but pretend you aren't that impressed, because she gets that shit daily.

Torrent Sites

Torrents. You've heard of them, but haven't tried. It's where all the serious criminals hang out, and the logical progression of file sharing. You could have every episode of the Simpsons by tomorrow. You can grab a copy of Freakonomics, the new Wyclef CD, and a bunch of games for your cellphone within a few minutes. The possibilities are endless. There are even celebrities within the movement, such as the guy who started the Pirate Bay, and a notorious DVD pirate named aXXo (who has many impersonators, just like a real pirate!). The problem with these stooges is that they don't think they're committing a crime. Cowboy up, men! Really, they actually put out a film talking about the changing culture with the technology. The technology is just an intelligent way circumventing copyright laws. You get tiny pieces from everyone, not just one person. So no one is technically sharing a complete work, just pieces of it. These are the legal issues I look forward to studying, believe it or not.

Torrent sites are the crowd that show up, fill up the party, get everybody dancing, and clog the toilets. Suddenly, after these guys and girls show up, you realize that this may be the best party of your life. The party is getting too awesome though, and you're starting to think that you may get into some legal trouble later in the night. So you just let them all party and have a good laugh, all while preparing your lines to get out of a noise violation.

Part 2 will be forthcoming, as this entry has taken up a good chunk of my day at work already. It'll concern Amazon Unbox and iTunes, my new legal friends.

[Sorry this is long and texty. I was thinking about presenting pictures on this, but I wasn't sure how to handle copyrighted images! Maybe once I talk to my lawyer...]

The First Annual Drewies

2007-12-31T09:49:00.000-06:00

So it's the end of 2007 in blogville, and few bloggers avoid some sort of countdown during this time of the year. I'm not immune to this, and I'm here to present some awards, some are serious, some definitely not. Enjoy!

Best Lesbian in a Cartoon

I expect this person to accept this award for many years to come. Although at times, she's been straight, she's even been a man. But her legacy was cemented in one fateful turn of phrase - "Scissor me timbers!" That's right, South Park, you sport one of the most entertaining lesbians of all time in Mrs. Janet Garrison.

Best Lesbian in Film (Long form)

This is a stunning upset, if only because no one will know who I'm talking about. This was a loaded category, featuring performances from the likes of Jennifer Garner and her admission that she "made it with a girl once" in Catch and Release. But this person provided a performance that was brief and unconvincing to the unbiased film-goer in 2007. So, congratulations Selma Blair from Feast of Love! Although you were a weak plot device in a weak movie, your curiosity and naivete was one for the books.

Best Lesbian in Film (Short)

*Spoiler Alert* It's a truly amazing feat, when subjected to every twist in the book, to still be surprised by an admission of a same-sex relationship. But if this year was a magical year in lesbianism, then this person was the Siegfried. Yes, you guessed it, I'm talking about Tina in Trapped in the Closet. Why? Well first, she was impregnated by a man that she turned in to the fuzz, resulting in a 3 year removal from society of said man. Then, she works in a bar, sporting a broken bottle and her tough-as-nails lover as two lines of defense. And to top it off, her sexual identity was revealed in song.

Best Lesbian in a Documentary

Although Billy Mitchell from King of Kong would be a daring pick in this category, unfortunately he is definitely a man. Fooled you on the picture, holmes. So who does that leave? Well there were some incredible performances from lesbians in Deliver us from Evil, this one is going to a lesbian who demonstrated every emotion in the AIM set of emoticons. I'm of course talking about Gene's old silver-haired friend in The Bridge. First off, let me state that I'm not 100% sure that she is in fact a lesbian. But when you consider that she's in San Fransisco, surrounded by some amazing house shrubbery, and the fact that she appears to have befriended Gene out of a previously unrealized motherly instinct, it's clear as can be. In the course of the documentary, she shows lingual panache, empathy, and steely determination, sometimes all in the same sentence. Amazing.

Best Lesbian on TV

I know what you're thinking. Tila Tequila, from A Shot at Love right? No, dumbass, she wasn't a real lesbian. Or she would've picked my choice for TV lesbian of the year. Dani, her #2 and the show's plot device. Congrats!*

Best Breasts on Screen

Let me first say that I surprised myself with this pick. Why? Well, let me just say that for some reason, I was unable to procure a copy of Shoot 'em Up, this year's film lucky enough to be selected by Monica Belluci as her breast showcase of the year. As soon as I see it, she most certainly will assume her crown in this category...

but I must take these awards seriously. So in a Olympic-style technical victory, I award Marisa Tomei the title, for her performance in Before the Devil Knows You're Dead. In a movie chock-full of emotional gravitas, Tomei's character provided ample defiance of gravity, in the form of her chest. Multiple times. And she's 43. And while I watched it I convinced myself that she was only 23, making her 8 at the time of My Cousin Vinny. For a performance that was both full and well rounded, not to mention age-defying, she wins.

Best Porn for Women

Tell Me You Love Me is head and shoulders above the rest of the competition, and by head and shoulders above, I mean girl-on-top above. For reasons I can't explain, girls go crazy when they see people talking about home decorating or dropping the kids off at school and then the characters boink each other into oblivion. In all fairness, my survey only has three respondents, however, all three picked this show. I've heard you can watch it on HBO's website. Just sayin'. And yes, the couple in the picture get it on.

Best Porn for Robots

Transformers, obviously. Why? Well if robots were able to toy with reproduction for their own pleasure, I'd imagine they'd like two behemoths going Greco-Roman on top of a cloverleaf highway structure. Add to that the scene where Bumblebee is tortured in a mechanical way that S&M robots would applaud, and this is a sweep.

Best Porn for Men
Internet P...orn 1994

The Internet itself wins, and if I'd been awarding these since 1990, it would be an 18 time winner.

Best Nutritional Aid

Fiber. Was there ever an ingredient in food that did so many wonders? From bananas to granola, carrots to juice, nothing else provided the massive amounts of cleansing needed in these troubled modern times. Global Warming? Have some Metamucil. The War in Iraq? Try Ex-Lax. Housing and banking crises? Find some chocolate and coffee, stat. The Cardinals, Rams, and Blues, all blowing? Just get over your public restroom fear, and stop investing so much emotion in something that has no real implications.

Best Revival of a Synonym for "Cool"

Despite my lobbying for the word "boss,"** I have to hand it to Juno's ability to bring back Wizard. British slang rules!

So there you have it, I've run out of categories, as far as I can tell. So have a Happy New Years and a lucky 2008!

*Domenico got his own show? Boss!
**I have yet to hear anyone else use this in the past year. Honestly though, it suggests that whatever it's describing rules over us all.

Something Wacky This Way Comes

2007-12-19T14:03:00.000-06:00

John Edwards fathered an illegitimate child.
Jamie Lynn Spears is pregant (not by John Edwards).
Dick Cheney's office in the White House was on fire.
Dennis Kucinich's brother was found dead.
Tila Tequila didn't pick Dani.
And the lab is saying goodbye to someone (can't elaborate).

What kind of messed up 24 hours is this??? Well, as for my blog, it's been an upside down week. This is my fourth post in a few days. And I've generated a lot more traffic, too. Check out these search terms that have led people to this blog (all from the past week):

The Popular
water? like from the toilet (several vatiations)
About 50% of keyword visits!

The Obvious
the things you own end up owning you
argyria pics

50 year old women
hgh for a 50 year old
blog women 50 years
blog for 50 year old women
style for 50 year old women
50 year old women no children
10% of my total keyword visits? What the hell?

Animals
bear hibernation butt plug (several searches)
learned behavior spider monkey
computer bullfighting games

Explanation-defying
can i see some shaved gays
cocktail-conversation-topics
encino man will be back
unsolved mysteries in canada
Huh?

Wow.

101 Problems But Spam Ain't One

2007-12-18T10:01:00.000-06:00

Hey, apparently that last post was #100! Good to know, since I've had 2 blogs (that I can remember). One was from my days in the dorms, and mainly was one of those "here's what I ate for dinner" and "here's where I partied" things. The next one was my last year of college, where I chronicled my "five bars a week" and "flunking classes" phase. Both were high on the "me" scale, and I like to think I've kept out of that "dear diary" trap.

[Buchla 101 Synth]

Nothing much today, but last night I read this article at the Economist, which blew my mind. Have you ever thought about why people answer the phone "Hello," as opposed to "Ahoy, ahoy" as originally proposed? Well, I was reminded of this later in the night, when I tried answering the phone in different ways than just uttering "Hello," when my mom and my sister called. I think they thought I was drunk or depressed when I answered "What's up?" I think it's also interesting when people try to answer their cell phone "Hello?" as if they have no clue who is calling. I'd understand if the person were blind, but then again how would they have answered the phone, right?

Personally, I've been guilty of a handful of these. Luckily my boss hasn't requested the Facebook friendship, but I think he could see my profile for a year, whoops! All this history of spam makes me wonder what the next step will be...

People tattooing themselves so that anybody who bones them is boning a commercial?

[this adds new meaning to the term "tramp stamp."]

People devoting whole web pages to ads?
Million Dollar Homepage

People naming their babies after corporations?

Forget the future, I'm just blown away by the present. Especially the fact that I've spammed you with my thoughts 101 times and counting, without getting sick of this. Thanks for the support!

Don't Cut Class, Cut the Fear

2007-12-17T15:06:00.001-06:00

Well, that last entry didn't turn out the way I had envisioned it. So here's another one, short and sweet. Well not sweet, actually pretty creepy.

I had a dream last night that I was at my parents' house and some Native Americans stormed the place, looking to kill some people. They broke into my house, and I ran down to the garage, thinking the whole time that I was going to miss, and thus flunk, math class. These Native Americans bust into the garage and are heading towards my mom when I find a nice screwdriver or putty knife or something along those lines. I jump up and, fast-as-lightning jam the sharp object into both their necks, cutting their jugulars, saving the house.

Get what it means? Of course you don't. A dream is based on a person's own history and feelings.

Here, I'll break it down for you. I always have dreams that people are "attacking" my parents' house, or are in the woods. This is because, as a kid, my dad had a gun and we had a felonious, deviant teenage neighbor. So in my head I always thought a gun battle was imminent. Native Americans are involved because, well, we took the land from them. Three beautiful acres, of course I have guilt. The thing I fear most now is law school competition, which is why they appear in a pack, and hostile. Also, I tend to view my epilepsy as sort of a constant threat, something I always have to keep at bay.

The whole math class thing, well it's more law school fun. It meant that if I pick mindless fun over duty, I'll end up in a vulnerable position. And my mom, well she's a symbol of what I should protect. That is, I should be healthy and productive so that I can become a man. And well, I slashed the throats of the attackers... and hopefully that means that I'll take care of my fears and my health, and get to class on time :)

Judge a Book by its Cover, and Use a Look to Find a Lover

2007-12-17T13:05:00.001-06:00

Well, I haven't written lately. To be quite honest, it's not because I don't have ideas, but because I wasn't sure if people reading this would be interested in them. But after hearing a couple positive comments about the site, I figured I'd get back to work, even if it is Monday and my brain is closed for repair.

Everyone knows the expression "you can't judge a book by its cover." Well, I've always taken umbrage with this statement. I've found that in most cases, you can judge a book by its cover. Either that, or a cover influences your opinion of the product within. What I'm saying is, either pretty people are nice because if one thinks ugly one will turn ugly, or you just look past ugliness when it's done by good looking people.

On that note, let me get to the point. I'm going to give you my year end music wrap-up illustrating this principle. It may ruffle some feathers, but as always, I'm open to debate in the comments section either here or on Facebook, where it is also posted.

Five Overrated Albums and Covers

5. Spoon - Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga

When I checked this CD out, I tried to overlook the babyspeak title. Really, I did. The problem is not so much that, but the fact that the cover seemingly depicts a man working in an auto-body shop. So maybe the Ga Ga Ga etc. is some sort of pressurized drill or hydraulic lift noise? Hmmm. Well makes sense, since the drumming sounds like it was done by this one-handed crook we used to take our cars to.

4. Arcade Fire - Neon Bible

Ah Arcade Fire. I've never understood the fascination with this band, aside from a couple great songs on the last CD. I've never understood why, when people talk about them, they emphasize the word "Fire" rather than "Arcade." A fire in an arcade is remarkable because it's in an arcade, not because it's fire. Right? Anyway, everyone except me loves them, and I have a sneaking suspicion that it's that way because of the perfect symmetry of the album cover. In these crazy, war-torn times, the last thing we need is some sort of Cubist layout.

3. Kanye West - Graduation/50 Cent - Curtis

Ok, everyone knows the story. These two were having a "battle" based on sales figures. 50 Cent was going to have to replace his wardrobe with Louis Vuitton backpacks and white polos if he lost. If Kanye's figures were worse, he'd have to get shot in the face 11 times.* Well, it quickly became apparent that this "competition" was just a parent record company hyping things, and while both albums had a song or two that got me, it's clear that these covers were half assed.

Kanye is a repeat offender, but this one takes the cake. So a bear got shot out of a fish's mouth with the Parthenon on its head. Ok, sounds alright so far. The problem is that one cloud looks like it's a man yanking out the tongue of another cloud-man. Not cool, brah.**

50 Cent's cover is weak. It's appropriate that the hit song "Ayo Technology" (the only good one on the CD) is on here. "Ayo, Technology! I copped one of them viruses!" If I had been in charge of this design I would've added question marks over his head. Please, no more covers that look like they're from a webcam.

2. Justice - Cross

Yeah, I said it. I haven't been to a hipster party in a year, but something tells me that if I'd gone to one, this would be playing. Why? Well, it's the type of knee slapping music whose fanbase loves it because it's ironically horrible. Why actually try to find something you like when you can just pretend you love something that you couldn't? Well, ok, you can get laid by some chick with a mullet (ironic, of course) because you dance to it.

But after that wears off, you take the pubes out of your mouth and start to realize, this music is shit. Maybe you should've checked out the cover first. It features a cross (ironically, since there isn't a good "beat" on the album***) straight out of a 7th grade 3 subject notebook, and nothing else. Struggle to see something in the murky black depths of the cover.

1. Soulja Boy - Crank Dat

As for the song.. dude, Crime Mob is so 2004. The fonts are Romeo Must Die and (more) 7th grade 3 subject notebook. I bet he's on the phone with his agent at Interscope, who's telling him that he has to pay yet another fee. "How much?" Soulja boy asks, with shock on his face. "$135," the agent responds, "the amount you conveniently have in your hand." Sorry Soulja, you're fighting a war you can't win.

Five Underrated Albums and Covers

5. White Williams - Smoke

This reminds me of "Middlesex" in two ways. Words get spelled out in smoke, which is Alice in Wonderlandish. Also, the music is sung by a dude, but has this vague sexual element, leading to a sort of gender bender bender that is clearly shown on the cover. Plus, I heard hookah pipes are boss.

4. Kavinsky - 1986 EP

Kavinsky could teach Soulja Boy a thing or two about fonts. An S in blood, LED says 1986, backwards K on the letter-jacket. See, it's the subtle things, like the rolling hillside in his glasses, or the hands on the biceps, that make this cover stand out. The same can be said for the music, which is really awesome and upbeat, until you get these little notes in the songs that slip a little bit of dread in your drink. Perfect, since the whole concept of the band is that a high school jock died and has come back as a zombie.

3. DJ Copy - Diva Mixtape

I'm not sure when this came out, but since information on it is scarce, I figured that it counted. Obviously, this is cool because of bare breasts, just like the music is obviously cool because it has songstresses such as TLC and Mariah Carey over some buzzing and perfectly-placed horns. But the cartoon diva faces are fresh and upbeat, just like the music. This is what you'll be singing in your shower after you lose your virginity.****

2. Animal Collective - Strawberry Jam

Sure, this one is popular. But I get the impression that it's that type of music that people say they like when they don't enjoy it at all. In fact, a handful of friends took time to tell me how much this blew with a sour look on their faces.

How appropriate then, that the cover shows food. At first, I thought the jam was blood. But it works, because maybe it is blood. Maybe the strawberries are bleeding. Maybe the bleeding is good, like a leeching. Then it's all the circle of life, and the music sounds as good as the Lion King's does. Get it? Neither do I, but the music sounds good right after I've taken my medicine.

1. Glass Candy - B/E/A/T/B/O/X

First off, this isn't the album's artwork. It's more from the oeuvre, nay, the treasure chest of Glass Candy. What makes it so great? A hot chick. Not going to lie, that's all it is. Do I love the music because the woman on the front is so hot? I don't know, maybe Soulja Boy should put "The Birth of Venus" on his next CD. Even if it was called "The Squirt of Penis" I would still check it out.*****

As for the music, this is what Justice should sound. This is what all music should sound like. Like a pretty girl has nothing to do but sing in a run down 70s dance-club where only you frequent. So, obviously the lead singer will date you, even if you look like Phillip Seymour Hoffman. For a sample, check out this.

Am I just a whore for visuals? I knew cartoons would ruin me when I grew up. Also, too late for inclusion were Wyclef's Carnival II (looks good) and Wu-tang's 8 Diagrams (we get it, 8 members).

* Not really, but it would've been cool if they had.
** A reference to the fact that many of Kanye's fans are the type that would call him "brah"
*** Too soon?
**** Nothing to say here, just wanted to "copy" David Foster Wallace's gratuitous use of footnotes.
***** Sorry, this entry has taken a gross turn.

Walking on Sunshine (Laws)

2007-11-27T10:16:00.000-06:00

Want to kill time and do the public a service as well? Try out Matt Blunt: Document Destroyer. In the words of the manufacturer, the Missouri Democratic Party, "Matt Blunt: Document Destroyer features Whack-A-Mole style gameplay, requiring gamers to move a spotlight onto Blunt's portrait as he randomly pops up behind desktop computers and attempts to delete files."

Link to game

Blunt has had a gubernatorial stint that has been marked by crooked deals and violations of the Sunshine Law, a bill that makes public records public. So the game has a purpose. And it made me laugh. But I played for a couple minutes, until my mouse started picking up dirt, after I'd exposed Blunt about 70 times- it's not a challenge by any stretch of the imagination.

If you want something more mentally stimulating, try this puzzle game. Just keep common decency in mind, meaning no fathers and daughters together, and no mothers and sons alone. And the criminal needs to be escorted by the police, apparently. To start, click on the round button in Japanese.

Maybe the Republicans should make a game where you have a bunch of Kennedy brothers, and you can't leave Darryl Hannah alone with JFK Jr. and you can't have Marilyn Monroe with.. well, any Kennedy. Although I won't tip them off, don't worry.

PS If you want to laugh at more Republicans, the YouTube debate is Wednesday on CNN. I can only imagine what kinds of questions will be asked.

A Friend of the Devil is No Friend of Mine

2007-11-12T14:08:00.000-06:00

I just watched one of the most disturbing movies I've seen in my life. "Deliver Us from Evil" is the story of Oliver O'Grady, a priest responsible for molesting 100+ children in California in the 70s, 80s and 90s.

It's a movie that forces me not only question the entire Catholic faith, but the suffocating depths of the evil of man. Some current estimates say that 1 in 100 Catholics have been abused by priests. Think about that for a second. If you want to take the plunge and watch it, hang on to your jaw. Here's the first part, and links to the other parts.

Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5

If you were raised as a Roman Catholic, as I was, you know hundreds of other Catholics. In my experience there are two common reactions. One, the inability to walk within 100 yards of a church without feeling queasy. The second response is a flat denial that the problems are prevalent or that this is a problem. Some people accept it as a problem and still fill the church's coffers, assisting with the $1,000,000,000 in settlements that the church has doled out. Keep in mind, this number is just the current figure.

Not to trivialize what happens to survivors, but even for spectators such as myself, who confront this issue, this is more than unsettling. We were raised to believe that the world was wicked, that the only way to find eternal happiness (think about what that means for a second) was to turn to the church, the beacon of what is right and just in the world. The refuge for the good. And to think that so much pain was given a PR spin and it was all about the almighty dollar and the image of the body, I just don't know if I'll be able to shake it for a long time.

And a personal note to anyone who claims that problems are overstated, or that victims are just money grubbers... this isn't the case. Although I have never been involved in anything inappropriate with a priest, I do know people who have told disturbing stories. And they didn't do it for money or attention, they did it red-faced and flustered.

EDIT: Here's another report that is unsettling as well, although not as shocking. Then there's this, which highlights that this is truly not healthy behavior... and raises even more questions about the habits and behaviors of the clergy.

If you find this all too disturbing, I suggest you find comfort in something lighter. The South Park episode which deals with this subject in a much lighter way. (Note: You should probably open your volume controls and have them ready for when this starts.)

The White in Santa's Beard is the Coke, His Belly the Can

2007-11-06T14:38:00.001-06:00

Hooray for Slickdeals! A few weeks ago, I signed up for a handful of FREE magazine subscriptions. One was Entertainment Weekly, a magazine I thought Cassidy would enjoy. As is usually the case, I become hooked like a trout. Then I see this blurb.

First of all, I don't spring for the usual dribble from Hollywood's mouth. Sure, here's the occasional You, Me, and Dupree, but I like my films more artsy. I know most people love that garbage, so I don't criticize it. However, this reeked of ad-creep.* Look, I laugh at little people too..

... but this is ridiculous.

Let me start at the beginning. Christmas is a holiday celebrating Jesus' birthday, right? Not really. First, a melange of Christian, harvest, and pagan holidays combined into one all-inclusive day. How did this get started? Well Christians wanted to convert pagans, so they just decided to throw Jesus into the busiest holiday time in Europe.

Saint Nicholas lived around 300 AD, under 5 feet tall and with a broken nose. As an infant, he was so holy that he fasted from his mother's breasts 2 days a week. And when he found out a couple was going to have to work the street corner to make ends meet, he threw money into their windows and chimney. According to some customs, he even employed a pack of demons to deliver goods, and Saint Nicholas himself was said to torment naughty children in their sleep. The lesson was, if he liked you and you were nice people about to whore, then you hit the jackpot.

Meanwhile, in Germany, there was a legend about the Norse god Odin. He was said to have rode his flying horse onto rooftops so his horse could feast on hay voluntarily left in children's shoes. In exchange, Odin dropped some candy in the shoes. Odin was an old guy with a beard, and people have always loved both money and candy, so you can see how the two icons got mixed up after some back and forth conquering and interbreeding. Why settle for candy when you can have money and candy?

Throughout the Middle Ages, a bona fide holiday began to emerge on December 25th. It was a point of tension between Catholics and Protestants. Mainly because drunkenness, promiscuity, and gambling were accepted parts of the festivities. In Dutch country, Saint Nicholas evolved into a character named Sinterklaas, who rode on rooftops on his horse "Bad Weather Today." He also may or may not have had an African slave boy, but that's been whitewashed, of course.

Point is, what people learned from Sinterklaas was that you could drink and sleep around and still get money and candy out of the deal.

Centuries later, the North American colonies were settled, and the Dutch settled in what is now New York. Teasing is as old as the human race, so a local author made a joke of Sinterklaas, depicting him as a jolly, fat, smoking sailor in a green winter coat.

Meanwhile, in the UK, Father Christmas, a different version of Saint Nicholas, didn't bring gifts, so he was promptly merged into the image on Sinterklaas. This resulted in a modern image of Santa Claus, invented by a cartoonist named Thomas Nast, in the 1800s. After a fictional book by L. Frank Baum, many companies latched onto his idea of a rich, flying immortal. This was more adaptable to commerce during the Industrial Revolution. In the imaginary world, they could sell anything. For example, Coca-Cola cemented the image of the jolly old fellow in red and white with a barrage of advertising in the 1930's.** He'd been depicted that way before, but in a matter of years he was decked out permanently in Coke colors.

Around the same time, someone came up with the "workshop" model of toys, a merry image of happy but productive elves using traditional methods in a production line. I've always looked at elves as just smart-mouthed children. And I don't think it's a coincidence that child labor laws were under threat at the time. What better propaganda to spread than one similar to children in a factory, banging away for the good of the whole country? Luckily this image didn't kill a sense of morality, and in 1938, well after the workshop model had first appeared, FDR signed limits to child labor. I say we shut down the sweatshop at the North Pole too!

In the 1950's, suddenly Santa had a wife. Mrs. Claus is a dutiful partner who doesn't do much except give the jolly old man a foot rub and cup of cocoa. I know everyone loves this image, but it's more propaganda. Why? Well, as you learn in any history book, the 50's were a time of middle-class expansion. Some call it the baby boom, because all the soldiers coming back from the war got married and banged out a few kids. Well, this wasn't accidental- the country was worried about the Communists, and people not married didn't have kids.*** The idea of a June Cleaver-type was good for the country's most prized resource (besides nukes) - human labor.

Which brings me to my original point. I was looking in EW and saw this set for Fred Claus, which includes modernized toy manufacturing. I know this isn't knew, but the product placement is what threw me.

Let me recap.
1. Arbitrary day is chosen for a holy day.
2. Holy man is associated with holy day.
3. Holy man gives out things to nice people.
4. Holy man likes to party and loosens up his morals.
5. Cool, pipe smoking drunk becomes immortal.
6. Said drunk switches to Coca-Cola and matches his clothes to the bottle.
7. Sober, happy, immortal enlists the help of laborers and makes gifts in his factory.
8. Immortal gets married to subservient wife.
9. Companies outsource to immortal man who doesn't exist except in popular media.

Yeah, right, the only way I'll believe all this is if North Pole (which is water, by the way) labor standards are worse than the ones in Southeast Asia. Hopefully I can start up some holiday and myth that will last longer than this whole commercial charade.

FOOTNOTES:
*I've actually been softening up my anti-corporate stance lately, believe it or not. My next post will probably deal with it.
**It is worth noting here that, in the early 20th century, Coca-Cola did, in fact, contain cocaine. 9 mg per glass, or about a quarter of a line.
***The government would eventually resort to researching the gay bomb to deal with this problem.

Tomato, Tomatoe, Obama, Obamo, Usama, Osama

2007-10-30T10:39:00.000-05:00

When someone enters law school, they are taught to be precise in their language. They don't tolerate useless or redundant words. I know this because my brother and a few friends have been through the hell that is the first year. For example, it's a cardinal sin to say to such a person, "This is the best cheesecake in the world." That doesn't fly in front of crusty old professors. I mention this because ever since I took the LSAT, I've been dissecting phrases and words like they were little frogs, reluctantly but with morbid curiosity. It's gotten to the point where I sometimes stutter trying to squeeze out the proper words, like drops of toothpaste. Here are a few things that bother me about modern language, using celebrities as an "annoyance grade."

1. "Could care less." People say this when they want to convey the idea that they are above something. The only problem is that if they could care less, then they care about the issue to some degree. Like if you could care less about politics, then you're saying you care about them more than you don't care. This phrase should be "couldn't care less," as in your amount of caring is zero.
Politician equally annoying: Ron Paul. Increasingly visible and so incredibly wrong.

2. "Ironic." Praise Alanis Morissette! This is an obvious but necessary one for my list. This has been a long-standing thorn in my back, because people just use it to mean "unexpected." Not true, it is the exact opposite of what is expected. It's a rare event most exemplified by hipsters in today's culture. Think of Pabst Blue Ribbon. Kids don't drink it because it's good, they drink it because they have money to drink better tasting beer and want to make a sophisticated joke that they are doing something that it the opposite of their rich sensibilities.
Politician score: GW Bush. Obviously.

3. "Or something." I don't know why I didn't notice this before. This is a completely useless phrase, because you say something then completely drown it in other possibilities. For example, you're at a party, and someone says, "What's that girl's name?" And you reply, "I think it's Kelly. Or Carla. Or something." HUH? Why not just say, "I don't know" and let the other person know that you have no clue what the answer is.
Politican score: Hillary Clinton. Shouldn't annoy me, but is doing so right now.

4. "Make love." I just realized how much this irritates me last night. Make love = sex, right? I mean, sex as in candles and French music and 35 positions and 100 camera angles. Well, I have news for everyone. French music may be about love, but it's not a way to "make," or create, it. I couldn't tell you want love is, but I know it's not the Reverse Cowgirl. Here is an interesting synopsis on how this term came to be. Stupid hippies.
Politican: Joseph Biden. Like school in the summer- no class.

5. "How come." This one was brought to my attention by my friend Andrea, and the more times I hear it, the more wrong it seems. It means, simply, "Why?" That's it. I think "how come" is short-hand for "How is it that this has come to." Notice how it was shortened to two words that make no sense, when it could've just been three simple words.
Politician: Mike Huckabee. Well intentioned, but utterly moronic. “If anybody wants to believe that they are the descendants of a primate, they are certainly welcome to do that.” Must've flunked high school biology. IRONIC that he wouldn't believe in survival of the fittest, seeing as he evolved physically himself.

6. "Gay." Ok, I'm admitting that I've used the term to mean showy, but I try to keep it to a minimum. What bothers me about this word is that, as Jeff Goldblum says as Alistair Hennessey in the Life Aquatic, "We're all a little gay." Think about it, where's the line? If someone can tell me the point when you become gay, I'd be impressed. I saw a coat on a model in a J. Crew ad, and suddenly I decided that he looked good in it, so I went and bought one. Gay? Depends on your perspective. I have a female coworker who moonlights as a bartender at a gay bar and is married to a woman. Gay? Well, she's done a dude before, so I guess that makes her straight, or as straight as a buddy of mine who kissed a dude for kicks once. If he's gay then she's straight, know what I mean?
Politician: Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. The Iranian President who said, "We have no gays in Iran."

The point is, words flip flop more than politicians. If I had to elect a word or phrase, I'd vote for "bustin' balls." Perfect, clear, and compact. And who am I voting for? Well, I was leaning towards Obama, even signed up on his website. What I signed up for was a barrage of phone calls. I'm not sure I could handle four years of telemarketing. I'll probably still vote for him. But that maniac from Alaska makes for good theater...

If You Can Sweep a Mine, You Don't Have to Sweep a Chimney

2007-10-25T14:45:00.000-05:00

I found out the difference between Wash U kids and Mizzou kids yesterday. I bought tickets to the VHS or Beta show and interrupted a girl's game of minesweeper. It was ON EXPERT! Does this mean Princeton kids play Spider Solitaire?

Unsolved Mysteries

2007-10-23T09:38:00.000-05:00

In my life, there have been a few things that I've never understood. Questions that I use when trapped in an elevator, or waiting in a doctor's office, or on a long drive. When Cassidy and I were cruising to Columbia for homecoming, we debated one of these questions.

Can soap get dirty?
Ok, we all know that soap picks up pubes. In fact, there's some of magnetic force going on there, I think. Anyway, say a piece of soap falls behind the toilet and picks up some random dirt and grime. Do you rinse it? Shave the thing down like it's a pencil? Several people have said "oh, it's dirty, it's got junk on it." But honestly, soap by definition is clean. Anything it touches is instantly not dirty. Right?

Heres another one:
Why do you yawn, even when you can't see the person yawning?
There are several theories on this one, according to Wikipedia. Some aren't relevant, and thus, don't explain the phenomenon, such as "a means of cooling the brain." Others are obvious and provide incomplete information. The only one that could explain this is "An action used as an unconscious communication of psychological decompression after a state of high alert." Huh? But how does that "unconscious communication" flow?

How can you say, "This is just a dream" when in fact, you are dreaming?
This one happened to me last night. I was, uh, carrying on with a woman who was not Cassidy. I was still dreaming, talking to a dream version of a friend, when I said "Wait, maybe this is all a dream!" I then woke up, relieved, and ate some breakfast. Is this just the subconscious going through the denial stage of grief? As in, after a real-life tragedy when a person says "Maybe this is all not happening, I'm just having a nightmare." I question this because the whole concept of dreams relies upon suspension of disbelief. For instance, if you dream you're flying, you don't question it in the dream. Why question the entire existence of your dreamworld?

And an old favorite:
Are there modern-day eskimos, and if so where?
This one seems easy. Sure there are modern day eskimos, right? After all, we learned in school that they build igloos and have a bucket full of words for snow. But the thing that always bugged me was that, in modern society, you can't just sit in an igloo, and hunt, and so on. You need internet, cell phones, and cars. You have to pay property tax and income tax, and declare your business. Some people told me eskimos were in Alaska, others said Canada. These are countries that leave no stone unturned. Well, they do exist, check this out.** They seem less sedentary nowadays, as expected. Now go here, where you'll find that eskimos on reserves don't have to worry about modern hassles. However, if not on the reserve, they don't seem to be on the grid. So I finally solved that one. Hopefully scientists will figure out the yawn someday.

*If you don't have dirt behind your toilet, go see a shrink ASAP. You're going off the deep end.
**Miss World Eskimo Olympics? That's for researching another day...

There Are No Coincidences...

2007-10-19T15:48:00.001-05:00

Hastily written, sorry I'm leaving soon...

Ever had a really wacky day? I woke up this morning after dreaming about getting my LSAT score. Then I went to work and had an email telling me that my new laptop had shipped. I talked with Cassidy, and we talked about possibly taking my dad's car on a roadtrip. I figured I'd ask later. Normal so far.

Around lunchtime, out of the blue, my dad texts me, saying "It's your lucky day." So of course I called. He'd just bought a new laptop, and not knowing I'd just gotten one he offered me his old machine. Then he asked if I wanted to trade cars for the weekend. Eerie. If I'd been on my old meds, I would've thought he was wiretapping me (kinda funny, but not at the time).

The weirdest convergence came just a few minutes ago. I was watching MTV's True Life online (full episodes!) and a character was studying for the LSAT. Hmm, I thought, let's see when I get these scores. Then, an email popped up in my inbox... it was my score! Crazy, crazy, crazy, my jaw dropped. Then I checked my score. IT WAS THE SAME ONE FROM MY DREAM! Ok, maybe that doesn't stun everybody, but the sequence of events creeped me out.

Oh, and I did well enough to get in somewhere. It's a giant load off my back, and now I can go watch this in peace-

Killing like Conan.... O'Brien

2007-10-09T13:05:00.000-05:00

Here's a headline that caught my eye this morning, from The Record, Wash U's medical school paper.

How appropriate, since I was just in California, the land of medicinal marijuana and its resulting subculture... Also, I heard a joke recently, and although I can't take credit for it, I'll pass it along.

Q: Why are there no jokes about Jonestown anymore?
A: Because the punch lines are too short.

And here's a classic joke, my favorite of all time.

Enzo Ferrari passed away and, of course, ends up in heaven. While up there, he runs into God. God says to him "Hey, Ferrari, I like your work. Everything on your cars was perfect. Absolutely perfect. One minor thing bothers me though. I don't think the F512M needed the 4 round rear headlights."

Ferrari looked at God, thought for a minute and said, "It's funny you should say that. I like your work, too. The woman is perfect. Except for one minor thing."

"Really," God said, "and what is that?"

Ferrari replied, "The accelerator is too close to the exhaust."

The Life and Death of Supermen

2007-09-21T13:04:00.001-05:00

One morning, when I was on four different pills twice a day, I developed some rash on my hands. I'd been having problems with both splitting headaches (spinal headaches caused by a test for meningitis) and a rare form of epilepsy. My parents thought I should get my palms checked. Since the urgent care down the road wouldn't see me, due to unusual medical history, we had to travel 45 minutes to the ER at a hospital where I'd spent a significant amount of time.

When they got around to checking me, the young, fresh-faced doctor decided to send my parents out of the room for a minute. He then started asking me about my sexual history, which was less like a history and more like a footnote. Did I know that St Louis was the Syphilis capital of the US? No, I didn't. Did I have a rash on my feet? Nope, just on the hands. Had I been bit by an exotic spider? Nope, possibly a sick bat, but that's another story.

After my parents came back in, knowing that they'd asked me about that ever so delicate subject, we all decided the guy was a quack. Sure enough, I'd just had an allergic reaction to one of my new medicines, a steroid call Prednisone. One strange thing happened. I suddenly could stand up without a debilitating headache (I'd been bedridden and filthy for a month). My poison had also been my antidote!

I thought of this years later, when news broke of rampant use of steroids in baseball. Signs of usage were acne, cranial enlargement, and quick healing. Turns out just about everybody was on PEDs, from the best baseball players to Rocky himself, Sylvester Stallone. It started to make me think, are all of our heroes just injecting greatness like Popeye's spinach?

I'd seen this article at a favorite steroid-related blog. Police and firefighters? They're our heroes I thought, trying to save lives. Who cares if they do something to "enhance their performance." They have a better chance of protecting. However, soon after, in light of a recent event here in town, I began to wonder whether the free reign had exploded into cases of cop 'roid rage. (It's a long video, transcript here)

This reminded me of something else, ethically. I've heard anecdotes about soldiers using steroids, trying to build muscle mass. It had even been in the news. If you immediately say any drug user isn't your hero, then you must remove the soldier posters from your wall. But don't we want the best soldiers? Why should we put any limitations on them, when clearly, many other countries have advocated doping programs (China, Nazi Germany, USSR)?

I don't know that much about steroids, other than my short bout with Prednisone. The one thing that stands out in my mind, however, is a series of events that happened when I was working at GNC, in high school. A cop came in one day, and we had a brief chat about how he knew my dad, when my dad was mayor of our small town. He then started to ask me about some of the heavy duty stuff we sold in locked cases. Finally, he came out and asked the question he'd wanted to all along. "Do these shrink your balls? I heard from a buddy on the force that they do." He didn't buy them, and coincidentally, he was at a sobriety checkpoint a week later, and recognized me, and was a really friendly guy.*

A short time after, a kid from high school started asking me questions. Did we have what Mark McGwire was on? I said sure, we sell Andro poppers. I told him that he could use them, and if he didn't like them he could just return whatever was left, even if he only had one pill left. So he stopped by and picked them up.

The next day at school, we were at some computers in creative writing, and he says to me, "Dude, those things are crazy. I only slept 2 hours last night and I feel like I slept 12." I thought to myself they may have been more powerful than I'd imagined. I figured he'd be using them for awhile, but that weekend he came into the store to return them. No real reason, he said, he just didn't like them. I still to this day don't know why he wanted out of the performance enhancing game. But then again, in a world filled with secrets and lies, it's nothing new to be in the dark. All my childhood heroes are suspect. It's a damn shame.

*In fact, I don't think I've ever had a bad experience with a cop, except for once when I asserted my rights and didn't open the door for the police during a party. Not many people know that you can just not answer. This guy didn't like it.

Illuminati all through your Body

2007-09-18T15:13:00.000-05:00

Scary. On multiple levels.

Wedgies for All Y'all!

2007-09-17T15:02:00.001-05:00

I'll admit it, as painful as it is to do so. My name is Drew, and I have a videogame magazine subscription.

I ordered it a few years back, because I thought to myself, oh what the hell, we all need a little bathroom reading. Sure enough, month in and month out, the magazine delivers information that is readily available on the internet in a package than can handle some shower steam.

Lately, I've become much less interested in the games themselves, as I play them less and less each day (except for Mario Kart). What the magazine still sells me on is an insight into video game culture. I consider my subscription to be part of an anthropological study. Let me explain.

At the beginning of each installment, there is the "contributors" page, which is standard to any magazine. It gives bios on what each person has accomplished, professionally and personally. Now, look at this. It's biographies of people employed by Game Informer magazine. Note their lack of true accomplishments and trophy case full of mirage.

Andy
I can picture this guy slobbering over X-rated Princess Zelda fan fiction. He's in charge.

Reiner
He claims to be the worlds biggest Star Wars fan. According to him, he has watched the movies around 1000 times. That's 2000 hours. He could've built a plane in that amount of time. No, really.

Kato
Favorite drink and snack.. Coke and fingernails. Yeah, something tells me you haven't had either one near you, bud.

Bryan
Good-looking guy. Too bad, that in two years, he'll look like Marlon Brando.

Adam
That icy look of determination... it's because now that he's out of his parents' basement he's looking to get laid. No, really, it's in his profile.

Bertz
"Lord Gamington" likes Badlands. He's cool.

Miller
Ok, I thought this guy looked like a serial killer BEFORE I read that one of his likes is "The Newly Beefed Up Assault Rifle." Uhhh

Billy
"Favorite books: I read?" A response akin to the eternal Facebook dilemma, "What are books?"

Life's just one big high school cafeteria, isn't it?

If a Bear Sh!ts in the Woods..

2007-09-13T10:39:00.000-05:00

Here's a fun fact I just found out. Have you ever wondered if and how bears take dumps during the hibernation season? I never wondered, or even thought about it. But apparently, they eat lots of food, creating a "tappen," which according to Wikipedia, is an organic butt plug. It's stated in the article that they are "often passed with great pain in the springtime." Uhh, that explains a scene from Grizzly Man..

(skip to 1:50-2:15)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kpq8mjjyiKw&mode=user&search=
(I apparently can't embed this video)

You Take Your First Pet's Name and Combine it with Your Dentist's Last Name...

2007-09-11T16:03:00.000-05:00

I have my next 2 blog entries in mind- one on Oprah, and one on steroids. One for the ladies, and one for the fellas. Oh and one about videogame magazine workers. But I've been in LSAT mode for the past week, so I'll probably hold off on those for now. Instead, I present to you a bunch of names used in spam mail to me. 99% of these are for black market cialis. Keep peni5 enlargement in mind when I talk about steroids.

Kitty Rich
I picture Ms. Rich as an old widow, who at 4'11" and 97 years old, still manages to make men vie for her favor. Why? She's got one of those castle-houses with a.. get this.. bottomless GUMBALL MACHINE!

Ramon Babcock
Works in porn. Not Latino, but you wouldn't be able to tell. He has recently gotten into krumping.

Cameron Youngblood
In the minor leagues of the New York Yankees. About to be traded for somebody with a less cool name who is much better.

Gay Shaw
That neighbor you never talk to. Has a very nice yard, and 2 dogs- a big one and a little one. Pretty straight, if the rumors are correct.

Tad Honeycutt
Car salesman, not a successful one. Sometimes he shoots squirrels in the back yard, just to vent. Wants to bang his secretary but figures it'd require a lot more daily work than he first thought.

Aurelio Guy
State Senator from Arizona. Has introduced a piece of legislation which requires all swimming pools without a diving board to have stone frogs in the surrounding mulch. Will still get elected, mainly because of name recognition.

Son Ragland
Junkie from Seattle. Emailed me from a public library, thinking I was a guy he hitchhiked with once, from Boise to Madison. Uses the original Starbucks for its facilities.

Lincoln Nixon
An 8 year old kid who is chubby and gets picked on. Little do they know, he sketches out fantastic battle scenes on canvases in his basement depicting their gruesome demises. Already on his way to having a great biography.

Daisy Stallings
Cheerleader for Alabama. Southern accent. Is slutty, but tries to keep it quiet, contrary to what some on College Humor would say.

Willis Beaver
A dude who lives on his Veterans' compensation. Is in a wheelchair and sits around all day humming old soul songs to himself while he puts together 3D puzzles.

Cassidy used to read spam names to me to give me some ideas for stories when I took Creative Writing. I can't say I used them, but the point is, you can't beat a random name generator.

Reading Rainbow and My Brain into a Hole

2007-08-28T12:38:00.000-05:00

I was determined Friday night. I relaxed, staying in so that I could wake up at 8:00 AM and attack one of the old LSATs I'd picked up. But lo and behold, I didn't go to sleep until 3. Why? It was a sort of crippling fear that once I took the test for real, if I did well, there'd be no turning back. However, if I bombed it, I'd be down about the whole affair.

Nevertheless, I rolled out of bed around 10, and decided to do half an LSAT. I compromised with myself. Well, I did OK on the difficult section and TANKED the reading comprehension part. I thought they put reading comprehension on there to boost your score. Free points. I tried to forget about it, meeting my parents and nephew for a paddleboat ride in the park. I even decided to have some drinks and party it up that night, mainly because I hadn't gone out and partied hard in months. So, by some drinks I mean a barrel full of them.

The next day, after relaxing at a pool party, I dried out and started to think about what might have caused the lapse. Was it my new medicine? Was it the fact that I didn't drink coffee that morning? I decided I would have to take several more tests, under all different circumstances, much like the research done around here.

But then I realized something. It was just a problem of focus. Lately, every time I read words, I'll see something that my mind will use as an excuse to blast off tangentially, like a salvo of missiles. What caused this, I wondered. My first instinct was to blame it on my medicine, an easy target. When I admitted that isn't a side effect of this medicine, I thought, well I should just get some Ritalin, that'll drill me to the page. Then I realized that I probably shouldn't start a law career by purchasing illegal prescription drugs.

I started to think, as anyone close to Neuroscience would, about what could actually be causing my brain to do this. I actually monitor eye movements in tracking exercises and my brother in law, Mike, does in San Diego, as well. Here, a dot appears on a screen and the subject has to find the dot and touch it. I've casually observed the eye movements, and the one striking thing is that the subjects always look at more things than you expect. They are constantly scanning the screen for dots.

Mike's company has shown how people view webpages and radar screens. They view everything, showing the same quick scanning as our subjects. After reflecting on this, I thought, I'm probably just typical of your viewer today. We've been trained by television to look in the backgrounds of TV shows for details, clues. On the internet, our eyes try to catch the headlines and the pictures, all in a series of swoops.

So I resigned myself to the thought that maybe, in order to reverse this, I'd have to make some personal changes. If I stopped watching as much TV, playing as many video games, even reducing internet use, I'd be able to curb my "casino attention span." Last night I tried to read for hours on end, everything well constructed, just like the passages on the test. My brain hurts today, and it's not because of alcohol this time. Instead, I had tried to get the square peg of my brain into the round hole of reading skill. And as everyone knows, the only way to get a square peg into a round hole is by... pushing really really hard.

Innocent Until Proven Big City

2007-08-17T14:15:00.000-05:00

You know when you realize that science has a lot more evidence than organized religion, and you start to wonder what the point is in life if no higher power exists? You get bummed for a few days, then realize all you have is a certain number of days and they have to count, because it's all you have. Then, you vow to not waste a second.*

Soon after I went through this, my dad came up to me one night and said "Drew, I know what the next big thing is- Immortality." After I made the crack that it's an old man's game, he went on some theoretical description of wireless networks and how the brain is a network, therefore you can make the brain like a hard drive and erase and refill an unlimited amount of time.

My reasoning that life is only made fun by the fact that it is limited. That if people lived forever, they wouldn't have any point in being moral. Think about it, who cares about 25 years in the state pen when you have billions of billions of years after. Also, people only do things like go to college because they don't have all the time in the world.

I didn't realize the irony at the time. Personally, due to a shake up at my lab, the last 2 years of work resulted in paltry returns. Sure I made money, but that was about it. A few days later, it hit me that I wasn't headed towards some great truth or accomplishment, the goal of men like my dad.

My thoughts drifted back to a conversation I'd had with my little sister Emily about how her friends had gotten arrested on the Golden Gate bridge for protesting because "it's private property." When I told her that seemed to be false, and the police had no right to do that, she said she didn't know. I didn't know for sure either, but we both admitted we wanted to go to law school to try to right some wrongs.**

Now my dad, brother, wingman, and ex-girlfriend all went/are going to law school. My mom works in a law office. I feel like I live in a family of factory workers in a small Pennsylvania town, where lawyering is just what you do. But sometime after the immortality discussion I had an epiphany.

I started to think that if I wanted to die happy, and without regret, I'd have to change some things. Like work towards a goal that benefits humanity. Sure, making people live a little better is good, so my job has been a cog in the great machine of progress. However, it'd be tough to argue that modern science has made people any happier. My mind drifted back to that conversation with Emily, and how change is within my grasp.

Sure, I know what you're thinking. Lawyers don't change shit, except for the traffic offense I got to non-driving. Well, I remembered a group I'd heard about in the news. A friend from high school actually worked for them. The Innocence Project is a group that has helped hundreds of inmates, including some on death row, get released based on DNA evidence.

The way I could work for them is to become a lawyer. With all my chemistry and biology classes, not to mention lab work, adding a law degree would give me a good shot to help.

Next thing you know, I'm in NYC, where the group is based, but not to visit. At some point during my vacation, I realized how I needed to experience the madness of a big city, if just for a few years. The next day I sat at my computer researching law schools in the Big Apple. NYU and Columbia both had numbers that made me wish I'd studied harder as an undergrad. A 3.0 GPA doesn't get you very far.

But then I came across Cardozo School of Law in Greenwich Village. The neighborhood is everything you've heard- vibrant, interesting, varied, and yes even a tiny bit "hip." I started looking into how it set itself apart. And what did I find? They are the location for the Innocence Project. Symmetry.

If I can get in there, I won't achieve immortality. However, I may be able to help give some mortals some of their time here back.

* And nobody keeps that vow haha
** She's in the Peace Corps now with her husband. Her blog is on my sidebar. My other sister works for change too, at Outdoor Outreach. And my bro fights the powers that be in Springfield. He won't admit it, but his cases tend to be David v. Golith-esque.

Water? You Mean Like Outta the Toilet?

2007-08-07T13:29:00.000-05:00

Look at this hilarious bit of news.

On the heels of a competition in which St Louis was declared to have the best tasting city water in the country, it is especially entertaining. I'd have to say I could count on one hand the number of times I've bought Dasani or Aquafina. They taste like cardboard. Now if I read Evian was mined from the Mississippi, I would be floored. And for the record, I just filter the water from the tap with a Brita. Can't everybody tell the difference when they taste them?

At the Mall, Miffed? Try Thrift!

2007-07-30T14:46:00.000-05:00

I went thrift store shopping on Saturday, and as I was shopping I realized that I know the St. Louis thrift scene like the back of my bony hand. Here are some of the hot spots of the city.

1. Goodwill Industries. You know Goodwill, they're everywhere- 2100 stores! Although technically not a non-profit, this store is a little more concerned with the bottom line than other thrift stores. Think billions of dollars. Their mission is to give jobs to people with problems. The one down the road from me has serious problems, and most of the time I don't even stop in because they have horrible lighting, worse t-shirts and I've never seen artwork that couldn't be done by an 8th grader. Notable finds: a Lite-Brite, a lamp, and a recliner... all overpriced. Check out their online auction site here.
Grade: D

2. Saint Vincent de Paul Society. This is the one where my parents' things go when they're put out to pasture. It's notable for a few reasons- it has 10 times more books than any of the other stores, and you'll find some amazing furniture. The con is that you won't necessarily be able to afford the stuff. On Saturday they had an entire set of office furniture (conference room table, chairs, artwork, desk, etc.), but it cost thousands total. Of course, it had already been sold. One thing is that the t-shirt, and clothing sections in particular, are lacking. In fact I almost couldn't FIND the shirts. Good if you're furnishing an apartment and have some dough.
Grade: B-

3. Salvation Army. Another national institution, if you go here and see some burly thugs outside, it's not because they are going to jump you, it's because they're there getting help. It is tied to the Catholic Church, so if you're really feeling up for it, you can drop money at the doorstep then go a block west and protest at Planned Parenthood. Otherwise, keep your eyes peeled for anything here- I've found suspenders, t shirts, pants, artwork, glasses, a camera, and even an entire living room furniture set here. The place is pretty well organized, and the main benefit is that they tend to have the nicest people working anytime you go. My favorite is this lady with an afro straight out of a 70s movie who likes to crack jokes about my sense of style. Hit this place first.
Grade: A

4. Unique Thrift. I hadn't heard about this one until about a year ago, when I found it mentioned in the Riverfront Times. This store does something better than any other one: they separate their clothes by size. In other words, you can swing by and check out all the clothes in your size in about 15-20 minutes. That's plenty of time left over to browse their impressive video game collection. Other stores have a Genesis game or two, but here you'll find a wide selection. It's in a Latin area of town, so if you plan on flirting at the register with a hottie, make sure you remember high school Spanish.
Grade: A+

5. Value Village. This one is a sentimental choice, for me. It was my first thrift store experience, and for awhile there, I would pick up 5 t-shirts a week. I even have a favorite from high school that I still wear. As it became more busy, the trick became searching the boys rack, as this store had a broad definition of "child." In recent years it's fallen off, mainly due to shopper competition due to word of mouth. The last times I've been in, I noticed that this store has been staked out by the Indian and Asian communities, giving it a nice local flavor. It's not uncommon to see things still in the same spot a month later, as they tend to specialize in sports-related XXL shirts.
Grade: C+

There are a few other thrift stores around.. I'd ask for suggestions, but any serious thrifter wouldn't divulge their bread and butter. And no, I don't consider vintage stores thrift. They smell too good.

More Than Meets the Eyes, Adverts in Disguise

2007-07-25T14:53:00.001-05:00

Anyone who reads this with any frequency knows that I have my pet issues, and one is my promotion of corporate responsibility in advertising. I'm also a fan of art, a form of expression that is exclusively human. Sure a computer or a monkey can paint, but not without human aid. Advertising and art have had a long and sweet marriage. You know this union as "product placement".

Reading the article, you'll be reminded of some of the great examples. ET pushing candy. Apple computers popping up in everything, logo to the camera. People never seemed to mind, I know I didn't until a few years back. But a funny thing happened recently. Multiple people mentioned to me that after watching Transformers, they realized it was "just one big commercial."

[Apparent clip from the movie... Note the Micro$oft Xbox 360 and the Mountain Dew]

I started to think to myself that maybe the days of product placement were dwindling. A few years back, no one said anything about placement in "Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle." I realized that my friends didn't really mind. They were giving a movie review, not social commentary. But one thing is for sure: some movies are more advertising and less story, more bought and less thought. And hopefully people will find a way to give art back its uniqueness. Because can you imagine if Basquiat were around today?

What a bastardization. But then again, Nike would have paid for his drug habits.

It's Learned Behavior...

2007-07-20T12:51:00.000-05:00

I think I'm starting to figure hobos out. A while back I got used to the normal scams, like the old "My car broke down, I need some gas" bit at the station. But after getting asked for my Metro ticket after I got off the train today, I realized that several things make the chance of me getting asked for dollar skyrocket or tumble.

1. Glasses. The logic must go like this. Every person with glasses must know, deep in their heart, some form of rejection by society. Even if it's a fleeting fourth grade yell of "FOUR EYES!" So, obviously, when I wear glasses I look like I can identify. That or I spend too much time looking at a computer, which makes my eyes go bad, and I have to put on glasses to count all my money. Good theory, but glasses are now for cheapasses like me who don't want to buy contacts at their ridiculous prices.

2. Cell Phone. This one is more of an off the beaten path move. The logic is, if I'm carrying a cell phone, interrupting my call results in annoyance, which makes me just want to get rid of a hobo with a buck. It's like a cell phone tax. That, or they know I'm talking to a girl on the phone and of course girls are going to swoon when I throw money around like Uncle Pennybags.

3. Sign Language Shirt. I picked this up at unique thrift awhile back and let me say it comes in handy. Not just because I'll be at a bar and some stranger will start gesturing at me like they're flashing gang signs. Then I'll realize they're signing "HELLO," thinking I'm deaf. Then I have to break it to them, no I can hear, I just like the shirt and try to raise awareness. Lately I've been thinking if a bum comes up to me, I'm going to play deaf. But then again, that's what I always do.

4. B.O. This one is obvious, but I thought I would include it. If I'm already on the train, however, no one can tell because I'm just some more stink lines in a closed space with already too many stink lines.

5. Cassidy (or another person). This happens a lot, really good panhandlers know that if they approach a group, they can play on collective guilt. For example, I saw some 6'-plus lady in a giant cape and black hat talking to a couple women. One was handing over a $5. I thought to myself, of course she's not going to admit to her friend that she doesn't ever give to charity. The way I see it, the lady in the cape was helping the other girl sleep at night for a mere $5. Like a drug company!

Now, I know some of you are thinking "What an asshole, I always give them money." Ok, well that's fine and all but I'm not a fan of cash money. Oftentimes people have drug or alcohol problems, and there are places here that'll take them in and give them whatever they need, not just money but job assistance, rehab, etc. In my nonprofit class, we talked about Larry Rice and how many poor people don't want to pay the price of going to church. Ok, that's fine, but there are other places too, like the Salvation Army and the St. Patrick Center. If you do help them with money, I'm not condemning it, but really, sometimes people need other things just as badly.

I Have It, But It Doesn't Have Me!

2007-07-17T16:26:00.000-05:00

When I stopped over at my parent's house last weekend, my extremely literate family handed me the front page of the Wall Street Journal. On the front page was an article talking about how the Epilepsy Foundation, with support from big drug companies, is making laws about doctor control over prescribing brand name drugs.

Now, I read The Truth about Drug Companies, and I know for a fact that generics are the same chemically as brand name counterparts. The only difference is the amount of advertising and various donations and gifts (i.e. bribes) that Big Pharma churns out every year.

Now since my last seizures, in May, I decided I should finally accept my condition, so as to get over it. I signed up for an account on the Epilepsy Foundation and found a group on Facebook that provide support. It's helped me realize I have it pretty good, all things considered. I even picked up Epileptic by David B., a graphic novel (i.e. comic book) that conveys epilepsy in a way no one has before or since. The images of epilepsy as a ghost and a series of mountains to climb both resonate with me.

I even found a blog entitled Cookie Wonton, through it's sending of visitors to my site, written by a mom talking about raising two kids with epilepsy. It's an interesting perspective and has a fresh tone, I'm lucky to have found it.

The WSJ article struck a nerve though. Personally, I feel like neurologists should be able to prescribe whatever. No one should be able to alter it. So I like the move. My doctor was clearly irritated by the quick swap Walgreen's made, switching me to a generic. But he acknowledged, like the doctors in the article, that essentially, chemically, there is no difference in the drugs. It's an interesting topic, and I'm sorry if I'm boring anyone about this, but when something is like a monkey on your back you can't help but try to rationalize it.

Read my post at the Foundation here and my post on the Facebook group here.

Whip It, and by It I Mean My Back

2007-07-05T14:13:00.000-05:00

When I was little, I remember hearing the phrase, "Step on a crack, break your mamma's back," the playground variety, not Devo's version. A few years of crack-stepping later, what happened? My mom hurt her back so badly that I remember shifting the car for her when she drove us to school one morning. And my mom is tough, I couldn't believe she was mortal.

Suffice to say, I stopped stepping on cracks, and I still think of this superstition when I walk home along the sidewalk and have to avoid hundreds of cracks. I probably look like a sasquatch, lumbering along deserted streets with differing stride lengths.

Now that my back is a little messed up, I really am glad the rhyme isn't "Smoke on some crack, break Drew Smith's back." Because then everybody who's been a little loco lately would be doing some serious damage.

PS The new banner is a panorama I took off the front porch of my parents' house. My dad can be seen twice (He moves fast).

The Things You Own End Up Owning You

2007-07-02T13:28:00.001-05:00

I went to go rent some movies yesterday and on the way back was stuck behind a car with a curious series of bumper stickers. One, the flag of France, which is easily explained as francophilia. This is common in the wine-and-cheese lined streets of Clayton, so I didn't give it a second thought.

The second sticker said (and I'm paraphrasing here), "Educate your children well." Ok, a nice thought that people who read will understand. Then again, like Braille on an ATM, is this really the best way to approach the problems of the American school system? The intended audience is probably poorer, and possibly can't read themselves, right? But, once again, I dismissed it, this time as oversimplification.

The third sticker is what blew my mind and made me question the driver's sanity, however. It read, in clear blue capital letters on white, "Do me a favor and steal this car." What???!?!? Look, I'm all for people ridding themselves of their possessions, but this doesn't even make sense. Maybe on an old POS or if were the cry for help of a bored housewife soccer mom... but this looked like a pretty solid car. However, my mom had one and it was buggy (get it haha), so I started to think maybe this individual had purchased my mom's old lemon. Even if that were the case, there are easier ways to get your car jacked in St. Louis. Trust me, I know neighborhoods where it won't last 5 minutes. I could even just drive it over the the car thieves that live behind me.

Still reeling from that, I was reading about the iPhone today. You've seen the commercials- it's another gizmo that does pretty much what everything else already out does. But I noticed something. People in this blog's comments were either entrenching themselves as Apple people or Microsoft people. Simply put, why? I was just recommended a book, The Rebel Sell, which claims that activism is being bottled and sold, doing harm to the causes they were supposed to help. But that isn't what happens with the old Mac v. PC argument, or a Nintendo v. Sony, and so on. People, when they fight on blogs, throw out sales figures and compete so as to show that they are COMPLETELY NORMAL. It's like a dick size contest where the winner is the person that is most average. Weird.

One last thing- nothing makes you want to own nothing like a trip to Southern Missouri for a float trip. Everything is in danger of being destroyed or stolen. When they are, you say to yourself "Hey, it was a free umbrella and a 99 cent bag of sunflower seeds, who cares?" Now, to get the VW lady to convince the gizmo owners to repent...

S(pr)ay What?

2007-06-16T11:54:00.000-05:00

Small, tight-knit communities such as the Mennonites can have problems with genetic deficiencies, because of long-term inbreeding. It's called the founder effect. Apparently, the Amish ended up with a high incidence of extra toes and fingers. And if you think blue skin is too bizarre to be real, then read this.

I read in a book the other day that this is why Mennonites buy sperm from people outside of their communities.

Uh, really? This is the closest information I found... sketchy at best, but fascinating. There's also a lively message board discussion at Snopes. I need to research this more.

Abracadabra Bro!

2007-06-14T15:13:00.000-05:00

I knew I was pasty, but I didn't think I actually glowed white. Apparently I do, because today I was playing cards at lunch and itched my neck... only to have a moth fly out of my shirt and up to the ceiling.

I actually said "Did that moth fly out of my shirt?" Now I know how a magacian feels. The mystery is whether it was in my shirt this morning when I put it on, or if it found its way onto my neck when I was walking back from Bread Co. with my lunch. If it was on my neck all day, then I'm proud of it, because that means it took the Metrolink with me. In that case, it's like only 2 percent of StL commuters, according to an article today.

Moths still freak the hell out of me though, even if they don't have mouths.

The Wandering Rocks of the Central West End

2007-06-08T11:13:00.001-05:00

Bloomsday is a week from tomorrow. I've always told myself that one of these years I'm going to down a few pints at Dressel's, the local pub while people read Ulysses. At least I thought that's where they read it. I can't find anything online about it this year. Hmmm..

I read it as a Junior in high school, and still have my copy, all marked up. Thank God for Cliff's Notes, because there were sections I wouldn't have understood at all if it weren't for chapter summaries. My personal favorite parts were the bawdy ones, since I was 17 at the time I read it. I still crack up thinking about Bloom getting caught staring up the butthole of a famous statue.

Chronicles of Granola

2007-06-08T09:05:00.000-05:00

I started a new blog. You might be interested, either if you're a nutritionist or just a good old-fashioned stalker (I like both! haha). It tells the daily journey of food into my stomach, kind of like the Magic School Bus but without the oddly-dressed teacher. It's right here. See the very first post for an explanation of why I would do this.

EDIT 07-02-07: I deleted it, but it served a purpose in the end- it made me shape up my eating tendencies and I've never felt healthier than I do now. Well, save the McDonalds breakfast I had yesterday morning UGH

Vampire Blues

2007-05-30T15:31:00.000-05:00

So I should probably update my handful of readers on what happened to me last week. If you're feeling squeamish you should probably NOT read this, as it was traumatic enough to keep me away from my apartment for a week.

Basically, I woke up at 6 am a little stressed about things, a little bored with my job. You know, the usual deep thoughts you try to block out of your head. Well, before I could change my thought process, it was 6 or 7 at night and people were all in my room giving me medicine.

My back hurt like hell from twisting or falling, my teeth were a little cracked from falling or biting too hard, and my tongue was chewed to the point where I was on top of a bloody, puke covered pillowcase.

I thought I was pretty healthy before this, and before the last one I was even convinced I was somehow healing (see this). So it was a pretty big bummer, physical annoyances aside. Now I'm scheduled in to have my teeth fixed, my tongue is almost done itching as it regrows, and even my back might be ready for the co-ed soccer game on Sunday.

I decided to take a few positives from this, and one is that I need to be more social, I need to get out and maybe even consider a career change eventually. I lined up the GRE a couple Fridays from now. And I even decided that I don't have epilepsy that bad... so I jumped on the Epilepsy Foundation's website and figured maybe I could have something to offer people, and in the process maybe get something out of it myself.

One other thing- I finally got around to uploading the video of my "typical" seizure on to YouTube. So, if you're wondering, 0:17 - 0:11 is when it occurs, and I just keep looping through consciousness/unconsciousness. That is what wasn't treated with a little bottle of liquid last week. It evolved into something more major, and my memory is then wiped clean.

The Past is the Future Now

2007-05-17T11:48:00.000-05:00

I've always liked Russian literature. Maybe it's because people in college used to say I look Russian. Maybe it's because I took a semester of Russian in night school when I was a senior in high school. Maybe it's just because of that whole thing where, being born into the excesses of the 80's, I'm intrigued by the rigid order of Communism (Hipsters have embraced this irony).

I noticed it first when I read a few short stories by Chekhov, then picked up a copy of "First Love" by Turgenev. It was reading that novella that I put it together. First of all, in old Russian lit, everyone is a Prince, Princess, Duke, etc. This echoes in modern times, where everywhere you look there's a new celebrity with their parabolic fame. Just think of the former Real World stars now doing everything from bar events to hosting Girls Gone Wild videos to appearing in reunion shows. In Russian literature, it always seems like someone famous is passing through town to a great hubub. When Jessica Alba came to town to film a movie, it seemed as though everyone had gotten a glimpse of her, or had been near her at some point during the day.

There's something else, though. Both the Russian Revolution's coming and its aftermath show a country in a time of disarray. The USA right now is dealing with war, terrorism, global warming, energy crises, education problems, religious problems, and on and on.

I recently started reading The Brothers Karamazov- a book about the relationship of morality and religion, first and foremost. And it just shows how the debate of the effect of religion on human interaction will take place as long as man can speak. Just look at this:

Thanks for making me want to read the book, Bill O'Reilly!

The Running of the Tourists

2007-05-07T13:21:00.000-05:00

Awhile back, I decided rather than blowing all my time playing video games, I should try to create one or two. Well, it's pretty easy if you know where to start, and I downloaded something called XNA. It basically allows you to throw a bunch of stuff on the computer and using a little bit of computer programming, it can all turn pretty fancy quickly.

Well I'm not a great programmer, but I consider myself a decent idea man. I drew some inspiration from Bullfight, my favorite underappreciated game of all time, and decided to make a game based on the Running of the Bulls in Pamplona, Spain. The original plan was to have you control the guy running from the bulls, in all of his red handkerchiefed glory.

After talking to people about this, I stumbled upon an idea. What if you could control the bull, too? Like, pick your side at the start and if you're the bull, you have to run around other bulls to impale runners. Maybe you have to impale tourists and avoid little Spanish babies wandering across the screen. What happened was the more I thought about this scenario, the more I realized that I should probably just focus on the bull aspect and forget about the runners. I haven't touched the thing in months, because I was frustrated a simple game wouldn't run on my laptop. Maybe they ironed that out in the past few months. And I can finally make it happen.

Get Paid, Get Laid, Get Raid(ed by Italian Police)

2007-04-26T15:07:00.000-05:00

Dear Raymond Burke,

You, the Archbishop in Saint Louis, resigned from the Board of Directors of a hospital. Why? Well you said that Sheryl Crow promotes "moral evils"* in the form of stem cell research. And she's raising money for cancer at that hospital. It's kind of like how I don't go to the big business Catholic Church or give them any money, because they let known pedophiles sit on the altar.

So what's worse, sir, promoting (what 50 percent of missourians think are not) moral evils to raise money for hospitals, or promoting child molestation** to raise money for churches and golden chalices?

Signed,
Drew Smith

Article here
Similar, classic event

* Whether you think it's murder or not is your personal belief and even if you think it's murder you have to admit it's a confusing topic.
** I think we all agree child molestation is wrong.

He'd win the loser of the week if I hadn't read a few days ago that Washington University had been steering students to certain loan companies for kickbacks. Just like I saw them steering kids into a Monsanto propaganda wagon on campus. It'd be nice if kids got to hear the counterpoint on Monsanto before they start getting showered with free branded gifts. I almost starting talking to them about Europe and GMO's.

To Catch a Predator, not Stop a Predator

2007-04-23T14:47:00.000-05:00

In honor of TV Turnoff Week 2007, I'm going to write about television.

I watch "To Catch a Predator." It is an entertaining show, as you get to see a terrific comedy of errors every episode. What appeals to me most, however, is what lies beneath the dramedy. Sure, they usually lock up a few bad guys and ruin a few marriages, but, as an engineer, my thoughts tend to drift towards the net effect of the whole exchange. For instance, you put in a pervert, a decoy, a wiseacre host and hidden cameras. What's the net effect? A caught predator, not a stopped predator.

Think about this. Recently scientists have found that a few men with frontal lobe brain trauma had completely lost their sexual inhibitions. One had a tumor obstructing his frontal lobe, which, after removal, resulted in him being a perfect citizen. However, when the tumor returned, simultaneously he resumed his disinhibited ways.

So lets assume these predators have lost a good chunk of free will in these situations. They are unable to control their addictions. Do we see them going to a shrink and then getting a brain scan? No, NBC just shows them handcuffed in the van, which appeals in that end-of-the-thriller-movie way. But what happens when they get out? Will the icy glare and rapier wit of Chris Hansen stop people from doing what they're addicted to? Hell no. In which case, all that comes out of the dirty stew that NBC creates for ratings is the public humiliation of perverts, the catching, not the stopping. Which is cool, except if the perverts never had control over it before. The best way to treat a problem is at its roots, not at the end of the chain.

At the thrift store this weekend, I heard a worker talk about his ghetto pass, that he'd use to get drugs. He works for the Salvation Army, which means that he probably is in rehab for his addiction. It made me really happy to hear that someone was getting his life in order. Maybe someday when "To Catch a Predator" does that I can go back to watching it for laughs.

Another article about the brain and free will from Neurophilosophy

Breaking Down the Fourth Wall

2007-04-12T14:06:00.000-05:00

A few quick things before I get back into posting about things like the Kinsey Scale and To Catch a Predator.

My sister told me about Kiva a few weeks ago, and since she's down with all the hip non-profits I figured it was worth a look. Basically, you donate money to some Third World entrepreneur and they use your money for a year, buying chickens or a fishing pole or rice. The question that everyone always asks of charities is "How do I know the money gets to them?" Well I looked that up and apparently a writer for the NY Times went to Afghanistan to find the retailer he had donated to. And lo and behold, the guy was there!

Your money isn't even a donation, it's just a loan, which intrigued me. I wondered what the repay rate was. Surprisingly, it's 100%! The way they handle this is they enlist reputable credit agencies in the developing countries. These credit agencies do charge a small fee to loan your money, but from what I can tell it's manageable. I emphasize this point because anyone who has read about the WTO or the World Bank knows that they don't exactly give developing countries a way out of poverty- they just sort of use the countries for their resources to fuel (no pun intended) the big economies.

So if you want to donate, but you're a born skeptic like me, check out Kiva. And for those of you who say that I'm a tightwad.. well you're right. But I did donate, and if you're interested in who I donated to, check out my donor page. And yes I know I need a picture that doesn't make me look like a jerk- I'm working on it. I invested in a guy running an Internet cafe in Azerbajin and another guy repairing radios in Togo. I figured that if I were born poor in one of these countries, I'd probably be doing something like these jobs, and a loan would help me out.

Switching gears, let me admit that I think the University of California system is alright. They didn't let me into Berkeley, but I got into UCLA. Even though I chose not to pay an arm and a leg to go there, I can do one better now and actually attend Berkeley. How? Well, being progressive Berkeley knows that it can help the world by giving away some free education without sacrificing the prestige of a diploma from them. At this page you can find video podcasts of many of their classes. I haven't explored it too much, but I'll let everyone know how my UC education is going years down the road.

NOTE: Also, I'm going to make some color changes on here, and change the links, etc. If you see something broken (for awhile), then let me know, I probably messed it up.

Patterns

2007-03-19T15:13:00.000-05:00

Let me preface this journal entry by saying sorry if I get a little technical or unclear, but I'm trying to get the information out before I forget everything. I'll add links later, and if you have questions/comments/suggestions, feel free to post.

This morning I woke up and a rock song was playing over and over in my head. This has happened before to me, once with "Welcome to the Jungle" by Guns 'n' Roses, and once with an Audioslave song.* I'm blanking on the one from this morning, but the point is that I had a repetitive clip of music in my head and I couldn't think of ANYTHING else. My first thought, was, here's my aura, I'm going to have a seizure.

Well I've tried to counteract this the few times it's happened by just thinking of some other song. But the rock had won out over all my other thoughts. This morning, however, for a certain reason the first song I thought of was a repetitive song with clear lyrics. Think of any pop song with sugary sweet, memorable lyrics.**

I noticed that the more I thought of the first few lines the more it helped. I had either just talked to Cassidy on the phone or called her up, and she told me she had the flu and said she was "clammy," a word I had her repeat for my own entertainment. Eventually, for some reason it seemed like I avoided a seizure, because I ended up at work feeling a slight headache.

The reason I say I avoided a seizure was because mine have never stopped on their own- they are always chemically stopped***. However, as the day has gone on I've realized that maybe I did have a seizure and it was just stopped in its tracks. For one, I have a splitting headache (ironically making me happy!) in the areas of my brain where I have my seizures (forehead, above the left ear). Also, I don't remember what exactly happened this morning and in what order. This means my episodic memory was impaired, which happens when I have my seizures.

So sitting here (coincidentally, in a neuroanatomy laboratory where I work) I decided to do some research. Auditory auras are known and documented, although I haven't found anything about the processing of rock 'n' roll vs. sugary pop music. But I do know that I couldn't play a saxophone right, or any musical instrument for that matter (except maybe a recorder).

But think of this- seizures are just your brain cells firing too quickly and indirectly. My conscious thought to focus on repetitive, predicable music patterns may have had an effect on focusing the brain firings. Think it's too far fetched? Well how about this- I looked up how your brain "hears" music, and it's done in the auditory cortex, right between the two lobes of my brain that are affected by my seizures. But what happens when we think of music?

Notice in the figure how my symptoms are all in one area. Face movement is right near the auditory cortex, which would explain my facial twitches during seizures! And most telling, the area that controls vocalization, Broca's area is there too, which would explain why I can't talk during my seizures****.

I'm still researching this but I'd be willing to bet that when you think of music, it is sent from somewhere else to the auditory cortex. This is why you can "hear" when you think of music. That pathway must still have been working, and it worked to override the powerful melody residing in my auditory cortex (right above my left ear!).

Think of it this way, there was a battle of the bands in my head, and only one band showed up because of traffic problems. A second band finally showed up and won by taking an alternate route. Make sense? It's all about the brain's firing and wiring.

Interesting sidenote: I was looking for papers on auditory auras, and who did Google pull up? My neurologist. Who, coincidentally, now works across the street. Try to get your head around THAT. Suffice to say I'll be asking him about all this.

* It's probably important to note that I don't listen to much rock, but in all three cases I had listened to the song the day before in some context, and it was a song I particularly like.
** It was "Girlfriend" by Avril Lavigne!
*** with Diazepam (aka Valium). Not to be confused with Zonisamide (Zonegran), the daily pills I've since stopped taking (see the last journal entry).
**** If you're thinking, oh this means he has a tumor! Trust me, they've checked and "It's not a tumor!" It could be childhood trauma (I fell down steps and landed on my head as a kid), it could be a side effect of Accutane, it could be the fact that I was drinking lots of booze and taking sudafed and not eating right the week before, it could be anything but a tumor. In fact, there's even an interesting voodoo doll theory that I'll save for another day.

Bye Bye Supermodel Drug

2007-03-05T17:12:00.000-06:00

Zonisamide takes 105 hours to fully leave the human body. I stopped taking it last Wednesday. This means that sometime in the middle of the night, I became prescription-drug free for the first time in a shade under 4 years. Why drop the pills? Well, for one they made me ornery. Two, they made me not like food. Three, they made me stupid, especially when I took 6 per day.

So imagine a dumb, moody, skinny version of yourself* that you have to inhabit, just because of little capsules that apparently cure your rare form of epilepsy. Why wouldn't you take them out of fear? I'll tell you the fourth reason- big pharma is big-time evil. Read something about it here.

If you're not the clicking type, let me explain. I was on 6 pills a day of a designer (not generic) drug at the start (Zonegran), which costs $2 a pill. That's $12 a day and ~$360 per month. I paid $25, and my medical insurance was paid for by my parents then, but now it's $110 a month (for the second tier of coverage). So where did the drug company get its $250 a month? From taxpayers (through subsidies) and the healthy.

$250 a month is $3000 per year that people were paying for me. Thanks for that, everyone. But I can do it all alone now. How? Exercise and stress management. Live life and have fun, not worrying about money and all that jazz. Oh, and sorry to my neurologist, I'm sure Esai/Elan/Pfizer weren't happy with your lowered prescription rate of the drug. Also, my weight data was probably unreliable because I did a little fibbing about what I was taking... Sorry big Pharma, I know you were trying to make this the new weight loss drug on the sly, without my consent. Why? 'Cause I googled my drug.

Also, sorry to anybody I've been a whiny baby to the last 4 years. I don't feel that part of me anymore. And it's great.

*That's why it's called a supermodel drug.

Steal these Thoughts

2007-02-23T13:33:00.000-06:00

Two ideas born the past few days.

1. Go into a mall and put stickers on the map of the mall that say things like "garbage" and "more junk you don't need here!"... the problem is that they'd have to look professional enough to blend in for a few hours at the place.

2. Make a new version of Steal This Book for the digital age. Give advice on how to get free things and how to stem the corporate tide. Sections on how to get free entertainment, education, health care, etc. And don't copyright it. Just make it available for download. In a variety of formats.

Also, maybe start up a gossip mag about the paparazzi. But it's hard to do that in Missouri.

Any tips, ideas or comments?

Reading Rainbow!

2007-02-22T10:32:00.000-06:00

If you're trapped at a desk like me, sometimes it seems like the end of the world is the edge of the mousepad. Like they taught us with the Scholastic Book Club, if you want to travel, sometimes you have to do it by reading. My buddy Matt is enjoying himself on a worldwide trip using Oneworld. Check out his blog here.

Got a Stalker?

2007-02-21T13:55:00.000-06:00

Here's a tip on figuring out who's been dialing you all those times. If you know the general area where the person is from*, just go into Walgreens and step up to the "Print your Pictures" machine. Punch in the offending phone number and it will tell you a name if the person has ever gotten photos developed there. And if they are a stalker, chances are they take pictures. Happy hunting!

*Columbia, MO is a small enough area, for example... for help narrowing the geographical area you can use this service.

The Torch of Invention Still Burns

2007-02-19T13:34:00.000-06:00

I don't usually freak out over a new movie... because if you're so wound up and push your expectations through the roof, nothing can measure up to your imposed hype. But Mister Lonely has me bordering on insanity. Just look at this picture.

Gummo and Julien Donkey-Boy, and even Kids for that matter, are still as interesting now as they were the first time I watched them. And the man behind all three, Harmony Korine, is making this one too. It should be noted that he's off drugs, which may or may not help with the film's overall aesthetics and coherence (inversely, probably). Anyway, if you're curious as to what's going on in the picture- Diego Luna plays a Michael Jackson impersonator who is living on a commune with other celebrity impersonators (one for Madonna, one for the Pope, etc).

Check it out at Wikipedia or filmpressplus (a little hunting required on fpp)

\V/ikipedi4

2007-02-12T16:58:00.000-06:00

So lately I've been brushing up on cocktail conversation topics on Wikipedia. You know, like cults, serial killers, and drugs. Things that can keep a conversation going after it starts to trail off because no one knows for sure why Ted Bundy became a murderer. Next time this happens, just drop another ice cube in your Manhattan and say, "Well, it could've been the tap dancing grandpa, but my guess it was the fact that he was led to believe his mother was his sister for a good part of his life."

The amount of information on Wikipedia is astounding, many many times any encyclopedia ever, even though you run across lots of "joey blanco is pwnned suxxors" 1337 speak. Don't know what 1337 speak is? Look it up, holmes, right here. And granted, a lot of it is slightly incorrect, as the Onion made light of in this picture.

But as some people know, I have a little illness that is so rare that it isn't in Wikipedia. So what to do? I created a page here, and then linked it another page. You could edit it for some laughs, like Stephen Colbert. But then I'll have to pwn you.

EDIT: as much as I (don't) want to put my face on the page, I've thought about taking a video of myself having an episode next time it happens. Cassidy plans to if she's there, but since they happen once every 3 months, it might be a month or two before you see my youtube video of this linked from the page, haha.

Redirection... Slippery Slopes Ahead!

2007-02-05T11:27:00.000-06:00

I had a post drafted about the Super Bowl and the end of the era of hero worship... but let me just redirect you to this article on No Mas. It captures what I was trying to say exactly.

And vice versa, here's a bit about selling the old to new people. I was in my Marketing and Institutional Advancement (of a Nonprofit) class and my teacher was using an example of how to market sugary cereal to kids. A woman asked, "Are there any ethical concerns about this? It's unhealthy, right, and the kids don't know what they're wanting, and about nutrition." To which the teacher replied, "Well, it's a slippery slope if you start telling advertisers what they can and can't do." Really? Well, see I didn't ask the question because I knew a PR answer would emerge. But using the "slippery slope" argument is just lazy. Sloping to what? Banning advertising? I doubt it. Coming to some sort of compromise about a moral code by which humans should live, and stopping there? Yeah.

The next time a cop pulls me over I'm going to say, "Hold on, Ponch, it's a slippery slope pulling me over, telling me what to do. Next thing you know you'll be stopping me from eating cookies before bedtime. So just a warning, ok bud?"

You'll be Flippin Real Estate Like it's Burgers, Man

2007-01-11T13:28:00.000-06:00

Another big layoff, I know. Well here's the story, I found out that my job actually runs a year longer than expected, until May 2008, due to a reexamination of the grant I'm working under. Soon after, realizing it'd be nice to stay down the street, I reupped for another year at my apartment. Walking/using public transit is a blast and I'd recommend it for anyone.

So that brings me to 2007, which I rang in with over a couple nights at a casino and a bar. Somehow I managed to be healthier at the start of the new year than the end of the last year, thanks to drinking only orange juice on the holiday. I consider that a good omen. But as soon as I had wiped 2006 out of my eyes, I realized that it's possible nothing would change this year. I have my dreamgirl, a good apartment and job, and I just didn't see any changes on the horizon.

Well, so of course I had to mix it up right? I've been talking to some friends about advertising and how it affects our communities, and I'm thinking that if I take some classes I might be able to make some type of a difference at some point, with a non-profit group.

Here's the problem as I see it: I see a guy at the Metro stop wearing nice shoes. The shoes cost probably between $100-$200. Where is that money going? In today's economy, the odds are most of it goes back to a rich white dude. But think about what could be done with the money not spent on shoes and rims and all the material objects that are advertised in the cities. For instance, real estate. Real estate is like the crack game, but it's legal.

So my non-profit's goal would be to fight the idea that spending giving rich white men your hard earned money is a good idea. Something like a cross between thetruth.com and the whole white tees movement. I want to be a promoter of the adage that less is more.

So I'm taking classes this semester to figure out how to start right. Thoughts?

So Then the Great Barrier Reef is Just a Big Ol Dirty Skank...

2006-12-14T15:10:00.000-06:00

hey, this kinda reminds me of when i worked at the grocery store and got products off the top shelf for little old ladies. they'd say "thank you, you have long arms!" and i'd say back "well i knew they'd come in hand-y (get it, haha) at some point."

except this is 10 times cooler.

oh, and on a side note, i remember somebody telling me once that dolphins jack off. to which i said "with what, a hole in the coral reef?" maybe this guy can open his own underwater massage parlor. just a thought.

ok, sorry that was gross. back to work!

Even the Priests are Iced Out in Nellyville

2006-12-06T15:59:00.000-06:00

2/06/07 EDIT: It seems the P-D has dropped this story from its website. Odd, yes? Well here's what I can find online remaining of the story...

Priest robbed of his crucifix at knifepoint

By Bill Bryan
ST. LOUIS POST-DISPATCH
12/06/2006

A Greek Orthodox priest was threatened with a knife and robbed of his large gold crucifix he wore around his neck in an incident Tuesday afternoon in the 3100 block of Hampton Avenue, St. Louis police said.

The priest, 46, was standing next to his car on a resturant parking lot about 1:15 p.m. when a man approached, pulled out a switch blade knife that had tape around the handle, and said, "Who do you think you are? (Blanking) Nelly?" The robber demanded the priest's crucifix and he and an accomplice ran down an alley.

The priest was not injured, but was so shaken that he had to sit in his car for about 15 minutes before he could call the police, police said. The crucifix has a monetary value of about $500, police said.

Here is some video from a local news station.
----------------------------------------

What have I done lately? Well, I worked on my game a little, and worked on my job a little, and my power went out for a few days, and things are just starting to settle back on down. I'm reupping at my apartment for another year and a third, just as long as my job is slated to go. Will I live here forever? No. But sometimes this town just makes me laugh.

Take this story. It took me a couple readings to get what's going on. But given the city's shaky relationship with its priests, I couldn't help but almost laugh. Honestly, I remember being a little kid and holding a gold chalice. I couldn't believe how rich the church was. Lil Jon's most ornate pimp cup is not even in your typical St Louis Catholic priest's cup's league. Remember that scene in Indiana Jones where the greedy evil archaeologists think a gold chalice was used at the Last Supper, whereas Indy realizes the wooden piece of junk is the real one?

Yeah that's what I thought of when I saw this story. Do priests realize how close to rappers they actually are? Except instead of hoes they bang little boys. Hmm, I see a new genre of rap here! Point is, what does a 500 dollar crucifix do that a 2 dollar one can't do. Tell me that and I'll feel sorry for the guy.

no updates, i know

2006-11-20T15:48:00.000-06:00

I'm trying to learn xna programming... basically it's video game programming for an xbox and a computer. i decided that i shouldn't just sit back and witness creation, i myself should create. right now, i'm programming things that they could do in about 1980. but hopefully in the next few weeks i'll be able to have something like Bullfight. Ah, to touch greatness...

You're Never Alone with a Clone (and MTV's Watch and Learn)

2006-11-10T11:30:00.000-06:00

I wrote a story with the title of this post once. I stole it from a B-side by the Lo-Fidelity Allstars. I don't remember the plot, it may have either involved a boy with Argyria getting into a fistfight. Or it may have been about the existence of eskimos (do they pay taxes, etc.). Either way, the name came back to me this week when Missouri became the battleground for a fight on "cloning."

As stated in Don't Think of an Elephant, Republicans did a great job using correct verbiage in their quest to win the fight. It wasn't about science, it was about trying to create an army of clones, Star Wars-style. Democrats did their usual thing, parading out a bunch of people with canes and saying, look, look, vote for us and there won't be any canes or any eyeglasses anymore!

Well it was split 50/50, probably because people just flipped a coin when they got to the polls. Cloning won when the last votes were counted, from St Louis County. I think the edge was probably just due to a slight imperfection in some coins around town.

Oh, and another interesting tidbit. At midnight on election night, both Senate candidates from MO were waiting on the results from St Louis county. The result had implications on the balance of power in the Senate, which in turn had implications for the balance of power in the entire government and furthermore on where our troops went and the stability of the world. How did it go? 50/50. Slight edge to the Democrats. Troops out of Iraq.

I'm not saying St Louis County is the 2006 Florida. It's just funny how close the world hit for one night. And don't ask me about my politics. I just like the people who throw pies in peoples faces and run a pig for president. I'll just say that everybody needs to relax. Bacteria clone. If people are so concerned about overpopulation, then fix it. No one really seems to be able to explain what angers them about cloning, except maybe the crowd that doesn't want babies created by methods other than intercourse. I mean, honestly...

I know this post runs on and on, so here's a youtube video that isn't relevant at all but it's a classic!

"Wouldn't you Know, a Drive-By in Missouri"

2006-10-31T13:51:00.000-06:00

I live in the most dangerous city in the country. A few million people around here claim that, but trust me, they live in the county. Night and day. Ice Cube's Summer Vacation in the city and ice cubes and summer vacation in the county. It's funny, too because the report came out at just the right time, coninciding with a few other things.

First of all, I've been reading a book about cities and what makes a good city. The Death and Life of Great American Cities by Jane Jacobs is engaging, and what struck me at first was a chapter about the safety along sidewalks. The basic point Jacobs makes is that the more familiar faces out and about, the less likely you are to get mugged. Sounds simple, right?

I myself have been using sidewalks lately. I walk home from the metro station along a stretch of dimly lit roads every night. I've heard these sidewalks referred to as "dangerous" or "sketchy" by more than a few people. Why? Well last night was the first time I walked back thinking about what Jacobs wrote. And I only saw 3 other faces. One other guy was practically running, and two people were just pacing in the distance in front of their house.

Now, another thing you might know about St. Louis is it's also America's fattest city. Where were all these people on the block? It's an interesting thought to think that maybe people could kill two birds with one stone by getting outside to feel the fresh air every once in awhile.* St. Louis's mayor, Francis Slay mocked that St. Louis should be behind cities like Chicago or New York on the list. Well, let me just say that when I visited those cities, I didn't usually find myself alone on a street at 6 pm. People had a taxi, bus, or train to catch. So maybe Jacobs has a point.

One other point of convergence. The Cardinals won the World Series and threw a parade. The population of the city** doubled for the day. It's interesting to think, looking at some pictures of the parade, what the city would be like if the city were this dense, and not like some old post-Gold Rush ghost town.

Oh, and one other thing. I renewed my plates today. I've heard St. Louis is the capital of getting your stickers ganked. So I stop at the stoplight after the DMV and what do I see? Crime! That's right, a car with a torn sticker from its plate.

*What could also be keeping them inside? Gonorrhea
**City as in the city, not the county
Make your own plate

Double Speak

2006-10-30T17:35:00.000-06:00

I haven't posted in awhile. What have I been up to? Well, for starters I dressed up like a girl for one of Cassidy's photo project. This is probably one of the least embarassing...

After that I had to turn the tables on her- it always evens the score a little. I don't know what my artist statement was here. So I'll shoot from the hip.

"Society today has become withdrawn. We don't look each other in the face. For example, some of the most emotional music nowadays is dubbed 'shoegaze' because of its listeners' tendency to stare at their feet while listening to such music, rather than connecting with each other. In my picture, I show someone with dominating shoes and nothing else. In this way you cannot avoid her, even by looking at her shoes."

Oh yeah, Halloween was fun too. I was supposed to be baby Bill Clinton. I pussed out of wearing the diaper, seeing as I'm pasty as.. well toothpaste. But my onesie looks like a prison outfit. So I guess I was jailbait. Here's me dancing a little to Thriller. I think I may have breakdanced then humped the floor soon after.

Am I Moving to Europe Next Week? Survey Says.. No haha

2006-10-20T14:02:00.000-05:00

I had a quarter life crisis last week. But I ran across a pic from the week of my birth, early August, 1981. Look at Wikipedia's entry on the year and take a look at all the stuff that was going on 25 years ago.

-A goofy republican becomes president, uses controversial policies & tactics
-Terrorism in the Arab world
-Soccer hooligans stampeding
-CBS Evening News makes a big deal about a news anchor
-Bob Marley dies, but his legend lives on
-IndyCar/Nascar racing controversy!
-HIV discovered
-Wheel of Fortune goes on the air
-Prince Charles's love life is in the tabloids
-MTV starts broadcasting
-Nuclear weapon negotiations
-Two future "You Got Served" stars are born the same week I am!*

The point is, what's changed? Um, besides people. Haha, early 80's fashion is back and has anything in my lifetime really shaken the world, besides the Internet? Honestly, the only difference is that instead of a billion people watching Prince Charles's wedding to Princess Di on TV, they read the tabloids online**. Instead of people waiting for 2 hours to see the LL Cool J video on MTV they just download it in minutes. Information is faster.

I guess it's uplifting in the sense that 25 years in terms of the world is just a blink. I like to think that I've done some things. Seeing how the world is just like a kid who won't move out of their parents basement and get a job makes me feel better about myself. No more quarter life crisis.

*Meagan Good and Roger (from Sister, Sister). How do I know? Yep, 23 years later I saw the movie on opening night. I didn't dance in the aisle, although I should have.

**Man, K-Fed got his ass handed to him on the WWF the other night...

I Dream of Encino Man.. .and That 2000 Calorie Burger from Friday's

2006-10-18T14:34:00.000-05:00

I had a dream not too long ago, which involved skywalks from high rises in a city. I'm not sure what happened exactly in the dream, but I do know that it was futuristic and that there were skywalks connecting every building to every other one, making the landscape look like an arrangement of Tinkertoys.

The reason I bring this up now is because of the sidewalk outside work. I can't help but think of this dream every time I get on or off the metro. I go past a sidewalk that's been "cleared" of the bus crowd (they wait in a parking garage, that's another story) and I always see a couple health officials scurrying by on one of the many skywalks around the hospital buildings.

You know those science fiction films where everyone had a flying car, like Back to the Future 2? I don't think that will happen. I mean, look at the guy in the picture above... why go downstairs and walk 20 feet past him playing "The Times They Are a-Changin'" and tell him you don't have a buck, when you can just invest in a skywalk! During those 20 feet you can almost imagine the climate changing randomly occuring outside. I think things will continue like this. I picture it more like Blade Runner or Final Fantasy VII (Hah, I'm a dork!), where a corporation exists high above the unwashed masses, and interaction between the two is minimal at most.

I mean, if they could build a city in the sky, wouldn't they? What about the Hollywood Hills- it's known that monkeys feel power only when they're given a higher living position. So of course Pauly Shore will only feel successful when he can pee off his balcony (metaphorically) onto everyone below.

Sorry this post is kinda dismal, maybe it's the weather. Um, I mean, Go Cards! Team Chemistry hasn't been this high since... well you know...

Ronnie Belliard's tongue and Weaver's new-found meth habit seem to have paid off! The Cardinal fans at the game last night were just... well they looked like they were looking for a skywalk to the nearest TGI Friday's. They should try that burger with the fried cheese on top, good God it's good!

So a Lawyer and a Spider Monkey walk into a Bar...

2006-10-13T12:49:00.000-05:00

So anybody who wants to make a roadtrip and is near Springfield, MO might want to check out the Exotic Animal Paradise today or tomorrow. Apparently they're selling off some animals from the park, and trust me, this will be your only chance to ever have a lemur. Endangered species are kinda like that.
Here's the basic news story, which sort of skims the surface. And there's also an unflattering entry on the park from a animal rescue blogger which, given a pictoral tour, is much more convincing. There's also a video on the News-Leader's site showing the spider monkey (named "Spidey") and other animals that they will be auctioning.

In related Springfield news, if you're passing through and you just happen to run afowl of the law, call my bro. I'm sure he knows the animal laws down there from Aardvark to Zebra.

Twist Should Play in My League...

2006-10-10T15:17:00.000-05:00

Have you ever said to yourself, "Hey, am I the only person who had sanctioned Friday Night spoon hockey in my parents house back in the day?" Well, I'm guessing you haven't said it. Because I just did a google search for "spoon hockey," and I found a sad sack of results. Here are the three categories they fell under.

1. Bonding exercises that take place in a rec room atop a Formica table. The one shown here is a Union University in Tenne-key. Do these kids look like they're having fun? I'd say maybe, but only because they're about ready to have the four most bangtastic years of their lives.

2. The second variation is played in the yard, also known as the "mommy and the milkman" version of the game. Apparently, you go outside to hit a wiffle ball on the ground with a spatula, breaking your back, while you see the milkman slip inside until the Third Period. And if you don't hear the milkman enter the house, you'll at least hear a cocktail shaker.

3. My version is only referenced once-in a Maple Leaf's fan's LiveJournal. She seems to have a working knowledge of the game. For instance, you play knees-on-carpet. Pain is the name of the game, just like life. Also, forks to enable tricks and whatnot, but after too many heated exchanges and delays of game, forks can get messy real quickly. So stick to spoons or sporks. The way I remember it, ball selection is a no brainer (ping-pong ball), and slappers are still the best way to score.

Anyway, this is all relevant because at my new apartment I have a room that only has a rocking chair. Optimal spoon hockey real estate if you ask me. Also, I read this article at the RFT on Tony Twist. I like how the psychopath offers advice on the proper way to kill someone.

"You don't threaten them first..."

How Do You Follow up a Half Nelson? With a Sleeper Hold?

2006-10-09T11:11:00.000-05:00

It was a pretty wild, four day, chicken noodle soup weekend. I had the flu on Thursday, so it didn't really make sense to go to the DJ Shadow concert on Friday and drive to Columbia later that night. But hey, you only live once right?

The concert at the Pageant was pretty solid. I didn't expect so many weed smokers and bad breakdancers and so few of everybody else. I also didn't expect a self conscious DJ Shadow. His first LP, Endtroducing, was our generation's version of Pet Sounds, so what does he have to worry about? Ah, maybe it's because every single thing he does now can't compare. I have a grainy picture of how he looked on stage from my camera phone, I'll try to get it up by tomorrow.

I slept in Columbia, Cassidy took care of me. But we did catch Half Nelson. No no, not the Garbage Pail Kid. Although, I have to wonder how much they were inspired by this card. The whole theme revolved around opposites, obvious and subliminal: black/white, candy/drugs, change/unmoving.

Now all they need to do is make a movie out of Slain Wayne. I'm thinking it's a Vietnam-era dramedy. The guys been shot like 10 different times. And he's trying to make a living after the war as a dirty comedian. Get it, "Slain" Wayne? You're killin' me, Wayner!

Oh and big thanks to No Mas for hooking me up with one of these.

The only problem is this isn't the 10 day stretch to wear it to STL bars, unless shiners come back into style. Can the Cardinals beat the Mets? Yeah, but they also can fold in four, no one would complain, and people would still fill the seats next year.

"Really? Monkeys?"

2006-10-03T14:58:00.000-05:00

People ask me all the time, what do you do Drew, other than being cool as hell? Well, I can point you to the Research part of the website for my lab, the one I should be maintaining. If you know any good books on Html, that go from the ground up, with a few tutorials, let me know. Online would help, too. Or there's this. Just search for "Thach" and you'll find a little blurb.

Oh, and specifically, if you want to know what I do, it's hard to describe. But if you're the gimmie gimmie type, I guess the best description would be that I'm programming something like the videogame Pong and spending obscene amounts of time looking at eye movements.

"I Can Get a Pujols Chant Going Right Now"

2006-10-03T13:46:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure if it's the fish smell from the disposal in my new place, or the fact that the burglar alarm keeps beeping every few hours just to let me know it's there. But sometimes I get the feeling that my new roommate, Eugene (aka Fudge), and I are teetering on the edge of insanity.

Take our philosophical musings on sport lately. The roller-coaster ride that was the Cardinal clinching felt more like a ride through a Wal-Mart parking lot late at night. You know, people acting as if their survival depended on saving a dollar for the 30 pack of double roll Charmin.

More Here

Cardinal fans are like Shakespearean mobs, fickle as hell. On Monday they can be seen in pairs around town, resembling sheep parading up to Noah's ark. The problem is, the animals don't boo the ark out of the water on Friday if there aren't enough squeeze plays by little white middle infielders. Hitting up the CWE the other night, we felt underdressed in a classy bar until two gents in Edmonds and Carpenter replica tees walked in.

"Two Budweisers gentlemen?"
"Why However did you know, sir?"
"Why, your frosted tips gave me away..."

So it's a knee jerk reaction for a sensible person to just step back and wonder where this mess got started. When did Cardinal fans have their clothing choices, beverage choices, and even Cable TV packages determined by a simple backyard game?

Ah, I blame you, Michael Jordan. You and that damn, catchy advertising campaign. We've reached a point where every sport is a commentary on mankind. Every muscle reaction is captured by ESPN and analyzed. When a ball goes into a hoop, a guy is flying. When a ball goes far, it's a shot to the heart of dictators and hatemongers worldwide. And now, today, when I go kick a soccer ball in the park, I'll wonder why I don't hear orchestral music (with a hip hop beat). I guess the profit margin was just a little too slim.

Eugene's Pro Wrestling Bit on McSweeney's
Eugene's Bonds Bit on McSweeney's
The Book on Jordan

DESTROY ALL LABELS

2006-10-02T14:28:00.000-05:00

The back says "NATURE FEARS NO FLAWS." And maybe I'm just imagining it, but that sure looks like an alien in the negative space. Spoonfed can manage to grab your attention with a logo or design and then always flips it. Like the shirt with a swoosh stabbing a guy into submission, or the Michael Jackson, "Smooth Criminal" one. When I think elephants I think power, but the shirt shows that anything can become extinct. Hell, we flock to the movie screens to see extermination of humans by little green men with lasers.

The label is right up there with No Mas for brilliant ideas, in my book. Aside from those two labels though, I can't think of a T shirt company that does anything better than an ordinary guy with a sense of humor with a big pack of Sharpies.

So I'm thinking about throwing a few designs on to shirts. The first one is going to have something about mummies or pharoes and pyramids. A shot from the Buddhist in me.

Anarchy is the Hanging of Pound Puppies

2006-09-28T11:29:00.001-05:00

I take Metrolink to work. I think alot of people in St Louis do now, because they opened up a new line snaking down to the south towards Webster Groves. The net effect of this expansion is more horrible, horrible graffiti.

I don't mean offensive. Hell, I remember seeing the word "Sexcellence" sprayed on the brige over a creek by my parents house when I was little. And it was the coolest thing I saw for at least a few weeks. But, it's just an offense to art when somebody takes a red Sharpie down to the tracks at 12:30 am (keep in mind the trains don't run that late, kids!) and writes "JOE BLOW ESKIMO" in bubble letters. Maybe it's because I read that book about tagging rail cars in the 80s in NYC and how kids died trying to mark their turf.

I mean, there's just some piss poor graffiti around. I'm looking at you, "ANARCHY IS THE UNION OF LOVERS" (from that alley by Booche's and Quenton's in Columbia, MO). Oh and if you want to see more like this picture, just go to this site. It's like Hot or Not, but with graffiti!

In related public transportation news, there's a pound puppy hanging in a bus stop on my walk with a bunch of sheets of newspaper that say NO, NOT ON THE CARPET over and over again. I took a picture with my cellphone, but I don't think it quite captures the madness of the whole piece. Down the next street there's a house with a related yard installation (NO, NOT ON THE YARD!, etc.) And that is why I like living by an academic institution.

Programming You Can't Set Your Watch To

2006-09-25T16:51:00.000-05:00

I'm about 4 or 5 posts behind lately, so I'll bang out two for one. First off, sometime in the past month, my mom, dad, brother (and by consequence, his son) have all watched episodes of the tv show "Cheaters." Oh you've seen it, it's the one that plays on a station that doesn't come in right, maybe only when a tornado hits the area. Or maybe it's on the station that has Mass 12 hours out of the day. But the gist of the show is that somebody knows their spouse/significant other/ex is cheating on them and the SWAT team of Joey Greco collects a weeks worth of PDA in Mickey D parking lots to prove it.

After the viewing, or "consultation" (there are also "dossiers" and "briefing" sections to the shows), there's a confrontation between the cheater and the person cheated upon. Well, I've seen plenty of episodes, and let me just say no two confrontations have been alike. Once I saw a confrontation in a club, where the dude ran into a bathroom to avoid the show's thugs, only to be followed, and have a bunch of guys at the urinals yell at his girlfriend. Then they bought him shots.

There was another confrontation on a soccer field where a high school soccer game was stopped as a CHOPPER flew overhead, beaming the cheaters fleeing on foot. As if the two people making out needed the entire force of the LAPD! But I don't mock, because as illustrated in this infamous confrontation, Cheaters isn't just exposing the seedy underbelly. It cooks the seedy underbelly and serves it in a nice dish!

***If it's not working properly, post a comment, but I think Internet is just slow around work today.

This brings me to my next point. When I was in Columbia a few weekends ago, I got hooked on their local access channel, CAT 3TV. CAT TV is a station that usually plays little banners with some nice shadow font in pastel colors that say "Bakesale to Benefit Hickman High" or something. But for some reason they were playing Gangster Rap videos the night I flipped by it.

The first video, and I wish I'd gotten the name of the group, involved a drug deal atop a parking garage (one on Cherry St no doubt). It was between the dudes in the rap group and an female Asain gang that drove red Dodge Neons, as in, souped up '98 Neons. Anyway, there was a briefcase full of cash and it was a decent beat. It reminded me of BET around 3 am on the weekends, which I can't get anybody to watch anymore. Anyway, I found this vid online, I think it might have been these guys, I mean, how many rap acts does COMO have?

The second thing I saw was the next morning, and it was some show about a guy's search for a band in Moberly, MO, a small town just up the road from Columbia. There were tons of interviews with people who just talked about how the only thing to do in Moberly is drugs. There was a kid who said, "Well, I'm sure I'll be here when I grow up, workin' in a factory, hangin out with most of these numbskulls, drinkin'." Or something like that, and it just kind of hit me, it was a really interesting show, I'll have to check it out more next time I'm in town.

If I can squeeze it in between episodes of Cheaters.

PS Cheaters now has a dating service. For people who don't cheat. Good Luck!
PPS I don't think the link works

Why Eat with a Steady Diet of Arcades Around?

2006-09-21T13:41:00.002-05:00

Two things I have to try:
1. Black Thorn Pizza
The alleged best pizza in town that takes 45 min - 2 hours to cook ONCE YOU'VE BEEN SEATED. Guiness on tap, Missile Command in the arcade... I just hope they have pizzeria style red plastic cups.

2. 1984 Arcade
Springfield, what's up. Apparently the trend in arcades now is to charge a cover, and just turn the dip switches to 0 cents per play. Personally, I used to not eat on vacation if I had a nice handful of shiny quarters in my Umbros. I mean, no contest. So this kind of setup is designed for me. The type of person who'd hide a salami sandwich in his jeans pocket and play Hard Drivin' and Star Wars for 6 hours. A piece.

Sometimes You Wear Stretchy Pants in Your Room

2006-09-21T09:59:00.000-05:00

I came across this blog when I was trying to find The Golden Book of Chemistry Experiments. After a few minutes on this blog, you notice that the blog hosts files to help you out in any situation. For instance, if you go back into the blog's archive to 9/10/06, you can find the full new version of Labview (what I use to write my programs on here, but newer), a password "grabber," a documentary about jumpers from the WTC towers, and even a DVD version of Nacho Libre. My favorite is downloadable love letters for the man who doesn't speak English so well. But hey, if I'd met Cassidy and she spoke Swahili, then who's to say I wouldn't have Googled "blank Swahili love letters."

Taste the Rainbow

2006-09-19T14:17:00.000-05:00

If it looks like i'm colorblind, then it just means I'm still working on colors and fonts. This might be a long process but hopefully the blog will look cool when I'm done.

***EDIT: Ok, I think it's mostly done, I'm sure I'll change stuff tomorrow, let me know what you think, if you want. (You can even leave an anonymous comment if you want to tell me it blows!)

Like 3 Centipedes, Bending around Town

2006-09-18T10:35:00.000-05:00

I went to Chicago a couple weekends ago to visit some friends from Mizzou, have some laughs, and check out a few concerts. I took Metrolink and Megabus the entire way there to save some dough, but I was surprised that I wasn't even within 10 feet of anybody else on the bus either direction. I rolled into town Saturday afternoon and my buddy Tyler picked me up from the station. After hitting up Borders to use the best public restroom in downtown Chicago, we checked out a couple things off Michigan Ave. We met up with the resident fashionista Angie and the two took me to the giant silver bean shaped monument in the park by Lake Michigan.

Next we walked over to some sort of monument where two giant faces had a staring contest on the sides of black monoliths. But the monoliths were waterfalls spitting water on kids. Uh, ok. haha.

After the emotional shock of this, I needed to sit, so the three of us went to Wicker Park and had some white pizza at a place called Piece. Then we hit up a comic book book store with so much more called Quimby's down the street.

After Wicker Park it was a bus ride back to the Metro and Tyler's pad a little north of Wrigley Field. I liked the place alot, hardwood floors, a nice paint job in each room, portraits and books in the living room. It felt like a cool library as much as a living space.

Tyler showed us some videos, and I'm not going to link to the majority of them here for the sake of decency but the one that kept cracking me up was House of Cosbys. Check this episode out if you want a taste of how we relaxed. (5 mins)

And that's just the first episode. I think there are 5 episodes and a sixth bootleg, controversial episode that is basically just a middle finger to Bill Cosby's lawyers.

On to the show, though. Tyler and I headed down to the Empty Bottle and got there when the place was about 1/10th full. So we played some Centipede until a couple girls came over and talked to us. One of them knew him, it seemed, and the other was her friend from Columbia College. By the time we finished with the niceties, it was time for the opening act.

CX Kidtronik is supposedly better with his partner. But his partner got detained by the police or something. So the whole performance consisted of spoken lines like "these drums are by Trent Reznor" and screams and Kidtronik jumping into strobe lights. He even had a participatory chant that was more complicated that any one I've ever been involved in. Just think the game Simon but a gangster chant version. Oh and his big song was Krak Attak. Check his Myspace(NotSafeForWork) for an explanation on that one.

Then out came Girl Talk, Greg Gillis. Check the last post for a Pitchfork review on this one, complete with video. The man is Clark Kent AND Superman. Bioengineer at Case Western U by day, International Music Superstar by night.

Sunday, well Sunday was football. Tyler had Trent Green on his Fantasy team. Trent Green got creamed on Tyler's fantasy team. Tyler hoped it was just a bad dream.

We also saw Idiocracy Sunday night (see the last post). Which made us feel barbaric for the whole obsession with YouTube and sports injuries. But then we just watched more House of Cosbys.

Monday, everybody was working except me (22 paid vacation days, have to use them sometime!) so I rolled down to the art museum to check out the famous works like American Gothic and Nighthawks. But my personal favorite was Venus de Milo with Drawers by Dali. Lately I've just been picturing people as little lockboxes of hidden emotion, and people just put their worries inside them as if they have drawers.

Monday night was Ratatat at the Empty Bottle and they were ok I guess. They came out, played guitar, and said "This is our last song" repeatedly. I wasn't expecting too much. On the plus side, however, I got a Ratatat #1 foam finger that had been dropped in price because the roadie said "we sleep on them in the bus." Somehow, and it boggles the mind, I was the only person with one. But we had some fun with the finger on the ride back.

Tuesday morning Tyler and I met up with Angie at a place called Toast by Depaul. Great pancakes, great service. The only problem was I had to sprint to catch my bus. You know, like in the movies when somebody is running down the street of a big city so they're not stuck in a big city one more day? Yeah that was me. And my sprinting paid off. I made it by a minute thanks to some dispute with the Megabus people and a customer. The bus left a couple minutes late, and I was a little early. Gorgeous.

Chicago in a Nutsack

2006-09-14T10:13:00.000-05:00

My trip to the Second City was a blast. I caught Girl Talk in concert and managed to see the new Mike Judge movie, Idiocracy, about human de-evolution. Don't look up a trailer for it, because it's not being promoted. As soon as I get my pictures back I'll put up a proper post, but for now I'll leave you with a picture from someone's flickr that Tyler and I are in (bottom left), Pitchfork's review of the show with video, and a couple reviews of Idiocracy.

Pitchfork's Girl Talk Review
The Onion's Review of Idiocracy
LA Times Review

Little Dogs and the Girls that Love Them

2006-09-08T10:49:00.000-05:00

Cassidy sent me this. She likes poodles. It terrifies me more than Cremaster and Trapped in the Closet. Combined.

Robert Kelly's Sexual Differentiation

2006-09-07T10:27:00.000-05:00

I saw Cremaster the other night. Well, saw part 1 and the first few minutes of part 2, hoping they would be better than part 3. The third section I'd seen a few years back, and I figured, "Hey, maybe this guy is just too far over my head, give it time." I think I thought that when a girl dressed up like a hyena was swimming in a baby pool of Vaseline.

Well the first part started with two blimps (with flight attendants transporting genetalia) over a Bronco Stadium in Boise, ID. And there was some dancing. Forty minutes later, there were two blimps with some flight attendants looking at some genetalia and more dancing. That's it, it's very neutered. If you read reviews, this is supposed to be because in the womb, we either develop nuts or not. My thinking is that maybe it should've been a little shorter, since we're in the womb 1/100th of our lives.

The second one deals with Gary Gilmore. I read a few hundred pages of the Executioner's Song in high school because I liked the writing style. This one was slightly more interesting. There was dialogue, some sex, and they were going to execute Gilmore. But as soon as the vaseline came out, and got plopped down on everything, it lost me again. If you look at Matthew Barney's website, he claims this too is about sexual differentiation. Well, I think this video was showing sexual differentiation about as well as It's Pat.

So maybe it's all over my head. Because Matthew Barney was in our Art History book. But read this review of R. Kelly's "Trapped in the Closet." And tell me that you don't want to just go out and show THAT in your art gallery.

They made a South Park episode out of that? I have to check it out!

Just Razzin Me, back in the 19 Eightyyyyyys

2006-09-01T15:46:00.000-05:00

I was reading about the Razzies today, and found an interesting bit of trivia. In 1998, a guy won both an Oscar and a Razzie for two scripts, LA Confidential and The Postman, respectively. One day they love you, one day they hate you, I guess. I didn't think the Postman was that bad. I mean, people don't really read anymore for fun, do they? So it's not that far from the possibilities of the future.

Another thing about the Razzies. Look at 1985's award winners. Rocky IV? Rambo II? Perfect? Turk 182? A Godzilla expounding on nuclear weapon theory? The Fat Boys in a music category? Thomas Dolby (She blinded me with science?) in the musical score section? Are you kidding me? Those things didn't win Oscars! Next thing you know, Talladega Nights and the TI song from ATL are going to win.

And what was the Oscar committee slobberin all over? Witness, Out of Africa and Cocoon. Maybe if Harrison Ford had moves like Travolta in Perfect, there could be a discussion. Damn, looks like I need to have an 85 Razzies party.

PS and the worst of all... Rob Lowe in St Elmo's Fire... Jesus Christ. Just for that I'm gonna get a hanging cross earring.

Lars von Try-er and My Weekend

2006-08-29T10:25:00.000-05:00

I finally got around to finishing a viewing of the film "Manderlay" last night. Yeah, it was provocative. Kinda like that guy I saw this past weekend outside Quentin's in CoMo who, in Riddler pants, sucked down a bottle of Jim Beam, then spit on a few frat guys. He provoked his way into a one night visit at the University Hospital from the looks of it.

What I mean is, it's not as pretty as Dogville, and Bryce Dallas Howard isn't fit to screw in Nichole Kidman's makeup mirror's lightbulbs. Also, there seems to be a little bit of a community theater type feel to the whole thing that Dogville didn't have. Maybe it's the Shakespearean accents?

I guess after Dogville and Breaking the Waves, it was hard for Lars von Trier to both change it up and still amaze me. Kinda like the guy at James's party this weekend who was going to set his scrotum on fire, and yet couldn't find an appropriate fuel. Apparently he was all out of something called "white gas."

But the movie did have a saving grace. The best damn end credits I've ever seen. Rent it for the end credits. David Bowie and a commentary on black-white relations in the US. And a reminder why when I was chanting "USA! USA!" out Matt's car window on Broadway on Saturday night, I was doing it ironically.

Take a suggestion and check out Breaking the Waves. Just look at this photo, and ignore the lame DVD art. Honestly, whoever took a movie about a girl who talks to God and gets it on with sailors in a religious town and tried to market it like "Gone with the Wind" should be tossed overboard.

Needles!

2006-08-25T12:19:00.000-05:00

I like to take two things that you don't think would go together and see how they mix. Heck, I even tried that gin and milk at Rachel's wedding, and it was pretty good. If you see me in my pickup truck, I'll be more likely to be playing Boot Camp Clik than Creedence Clearwater Revival. I think it all started with ice cream on my waffles.

Anyways, sometimes I come across things like this blog and I say, hey at least they're mixing it up. But rape fantasies involving Bob Villa posted next to entries on gangster rap?

Do the Evolution, 50 year old woman style!

2006-08-23T15:10:00.000-05:00

Blog. Stupid word. You know why? Because if you go to a random blog you're going to find something about Little Miss Sunshine, Snakes on a Plane, or Gnarls Barkley. Not here. Today I'm just going to talk about an issue that would bring a tear of joy to both Oprah and Charles Darwin. Yep, you guessed it, MENOPAUSE!

So I'm reading The Third Chimpanzee. It's about how humans became humans, about that tiny little genetic bit, the 2% makes us do things like commit atrocities, create artistic masterworks and wear bucket hats. Okay, you got me, the book says nothing about bucket hats. I haven't read it all, but I think it's a safe assumption that the Pulitzer Prize-winning book doesn't go into Korn-inspired fashion.

The most interesting thing so far has been an investigation into menopause and how humans are one of only a couple species on earth to undergo menopause. I think some male kangaroo rat does too, oddly enough. The interesting thing was that the author of the book asserts that after menopause, women began having children earlier, and the children they had survived. In other words, before menopause, there was no biological clock.

Sex and the City? Try Sex and the Cave? It wouldn't have been a hit. What's the danger in waiting til you're 50 to crank 'em out back then, if you die, you were only going to live ten more years anyway. So what happened was our ancestors started reproducing earlier and multiplying like googles. The menopausal society knocked off the non-menopausal society, and look at where we are today.

PS The book told me that ducks commit rape though. Not cool, ducks.

PPS I was going to put up a picture of Sally Field but she seems to have found the fountain of youth. HGH? Botox?

BULLFIGHT (SEGA, 1984)

2006-08-18T12:11:00.000-05:00

So my bro gave me his old laptop, with the reasoning that "it's slow." Well, computers aren't like people, they don't lose processing speed as they get older. What happens is you install this, or click ok to this box and soon enough things start getting bogged down. The point is, the computer isn't that bad, and since I was actually considering buying one just like it, it's a done deal. It's a tablet PC, which means you can swivel around the top screen and snap it over the keyboard, then use a pen to write on the monitor like a notebook. It's convenient at work since I make a sketch for people now and then.

The point is, when I get a new computer, some things happen. One is, once I clean the thing up I start bogging it down with some programs that replicate old video game systems like the NES, SNES, Genesis- even one for the Apple //e computer and one that handles arcade games (MAME).

Now that's where the fun comes in. You can come across crazy versions of old classics like Zelda: Outlands or games we used to play in school like Lemonade Stand. But my favorite of any game right now is a little game called "Bullfight."

Anybody who knows me knows that someday I want to fight a bull. Sorry if you think it's animal cruelty, but if being cruel to animals is this pretty than PETA can just tar and feather me now. Just look at the title screen. Back in the day when one genuine American quarter dollar piece got you in on the action, here's what you got.

You have two buttons. One aims your cape, the other delivers the heat. The obvious strategy is to stay in the center of the stadium, and to be cautious but not too much so.

The first bull is for little kids and beginners. That's not to say I don't have some fun with Charger. Yeah, that's right, I give my bulls names. It doesn't make it any easier when I dispose of them, but when they take me out I have a name to salute. Basically, my strategy for Charger is to wait for him to approach, then slice IN FRONT of him rather than away. Then I drop the hammer. Dangerous, and daring, but I still only get 3200 points. I think the crowd loves it more though, and it's all about the show, right?

Now onto the second bull, Papa San Cristobal. This guy has a temper, and you can usually use that to your advantage. He is very strong, too, and sometimes he can even manage to pop your dagger out from his own back by relying on the strength of the Lady of Guadalupe.

Luckily, the town is on your side, as they give you a second dagger and you can finish your deed and move on to Poquita, as I call her, the third bull. She's gorgeous and it's definitely a misnomer and this is where my bullfighting career usually ends. How this happens is the old arcade two-step. Step one, a murder.

Second step: eight letters, two words.

Now sometimes you get lucky, sometimes your little compadre comes running in from the gate because he just can't bear to see you get flung out of the stadium. I like this guy, he's got style.

But, the bulls, they have friends too. The fourth bull, Hector the Terrible, has a friend that I haven't even named yet, Bull X. I've only seen him once but I have this shot of the two of them together right before they took my life. Check this out. I think Hector the Terrible and Mr. X make the stadium look like the bathroom stalls at a Mexican restaurant, if you know what I mean.

And of course, as in any game you put in your initials when you get the high score. And if you have cojones, like me, you put a dirty word in.

But, if you notice, this game has cojones too. For the cabron in all of us, there's the kissing lips instead of a letter. What a game.

talk about a haystack!

2006-08-14T14:08:00.000-05:00

Thrift stores. You've all been to them, smelled the unique disinfectant on the garments, looked at the rows of pastel paintings of dogs and the piles of board games. Some of you have even bought a t-shirt or two, pulling the tag off and its universally-agreed dual staple job out. Well, let me tell you something, I'm what you'd call a conisseur of thrift stores. I don't know if a month has gone by in the past 7 or 8 years when I haven't been to a budget conscious store. Why? Because some of my best clothes have been found there. There was the brown coat with black faux fur, the rodman jersey, even my Bayless class of 93 Senior lock in shirt. I've found presents such as the jack o lantern orange shirt and a shirt that had an image of a camera with a neck strap superimposed on it.

The point is, you never know what you're going to find at a thrift store. So when I heard that the supposed "best thrift store in St Louis" was a place I'd never been, you know I was going to hit it up. Located near Northwest Plaza on St Charles Rock Road, this place was in a Latino section of St Louis. I never could find a Latin spot. Now, there was one thing the place did right, that I'd never seen done before. Separating the clothes by size! Why didn't anybody think of that sooner! No more XXXL Brett Hull jerseys from 94 to sift through. Suffice to say I scored some loot, tops among the gear was a shirt with the alphabet in sign language and a tee with bingo cards all over the belly.

PS The San Diego wrap up is posted, down two entries! It got predated because I had done a draft before I actually posted it.

Like a Pack of Wild Monkeys!

2006-08-11T11:46:00.000-05:00

All I'm going to say about today's work is this... what separates us from monkeys is your opposable thumbs. Sorry to say, but that's it. Thank God for opposable thumbs.

In other news, I saw Little Miss Sunshine last night, and it was pretty fun seeing a wacky movie for free. But it seemed like too many people were over-laughing, like they wanted the movie to be funny. This has happened before at concerts or a play where I get the feeling people are sort of trying to be in the show themselves. Maybe it was just the lady next to me, I don't know. But it was pretty good, I think it's just been hyped a little too much.

Also, Eugene is on McSweeney's today. I sent emails to everybody, a tip to Deadspin, and even let a comment on Barry Bonds's site. Congrats man, since you're reading this you should let the world know how you feel now that you're published.

A Weekend in the Whale's Va Jay Jay

2006-08-10T15:34:00.000-05:00

Ah San Diego, where to begin. Well, probably the weather. As someone remarked, living in St Louis this summer, people have become accustomed to cringing everytime they exit doors. It's a Pavlovian-response, conditioned in both myself and Cassidy. But on Thursday morning the salty sea air, 70 degree weather felt so unreal that I think we almost got hit by a few cars walking to the minivan my parents had rented to drive all the deadbeats (who didn't rent cars, like us) around.

Rachel and Mike's pad, although not touching the beach and featuring a pool like their last place (I know, I know, I never saw it), was still amazing, with a view of an expansive waterfront and beautiful on the inside. They rent the upper unit above a family, but since the landlord was vacationing on Catalina off the coast of LA, we got to sleep at their place, with their dog Petra and bizarre lighting scheme.

Thursday night was the wedding rehearsal, and the church was one of those tiny classic beauties that girls get weepy about, no surprise Rachel picked it, haha.

Smack dab in the middle of La Jolla, there was some local flavor on the block, such as a Ferrari dealership, a grocery store with iPods in vending machines, even a lovable tramp across the street who acted like he'd seen too many weddings to count. After a quick run through at Mary Star of the Sea, we headed to a beach (no I don't know which one, we went to four and I couldn't keep them straight). The luau was nice, I got to talk with some neighbors and relatives, and even got into some good discussions with Mike's family, my soon-to-be-relatives. I offered my cousin a quarter if he caught a bird on the beach, and he tried all night. I drank a little wine, and talked engineering with one of Rachel's high school friends who works as an Electrical Engineer at Lawrence Berkeley Laboratories (I think) in San Francisco and her husband (I think) who works with Astra-Zeneca. Basically we talked about ethics in science and how undeniably nerdy engineers can be. World of Warcraft addiction is an embarassment to us all, as far as I'm concerned. Cassidy and I were tired after the long flight, we called it a night and got some sleep before the wedding the next day.

The next day the girls ran off to get their hair done while the guys did things like ate cereal and drank beer on the beach.

The wedding was nice and surprisingly unemotional, mostly because I think people like Mike, he's a pretty good guy, and his family is cool too. We spilled out for pictures and some partying in a stretch Escalade, and I felt like I was at prom for a few, especially when we hit the cliffs overlooking the ocean.

The photographers got creative here, so much so that random passerbys kept taking pictures. One little Hispanic man even started directing people like he was the photographer. Classic.

We hit the reception all a little buzzed and so when my cousin Kevin asked me "how they (got) lights all the way up (a) tree" I gave him a long winded explanation on Mexican-American relations, NAFTA, border patrols, and even bring in the Mexican that somebody gave a beer to from our party bus. He was hanging out in the alley by the reception place, Old Venice. Anyway, after a few nice toasts, one each from my little sister, my dad and great aunt, a couple from Mike's brothers and his dad and insurance agent (yep, haha), we had some good food and some laughs.

Rachel even had the wedding cake maker create a birthday wedding cake for me that was the most sugary substance I've ever consumed. We packed into a car after seeing the newlyweds off and another fun night.

Saturday morning we finally got to have some fun. We hit the beach in full force, about 15 or 20 of us. Mike and Rachel took Cassidy and I out for some surfing lessons, and let me say I love the Endless Summer, but you can't truly appreciate riding a wave until you're on a board trying to do it.

After an ice cream sandwich and a sunburn and a few hours of relaxing, though, we were ready to try out something new, in this case just sitting on our asses for awhile. Thank god I brought my GBA loaded up with Zelda: Outlands, that's all I'm going to say about that.

Sunday we hit a nice little breakfast spot where I ate a big ass breakfast. Carmelized bananas on top of a waffle, with a little maple syrup and butter. Throw some hash browns and bacon in, and a glass of water and one of fresh 100 percent apple juice. Ahh, it was good. Then my parents headed off and we went to Ocean Beach, which is CA at it's finest. It's where Emily (my little sis) and Jon (her husband) live, and I swear it's where they shoot Pimp my Ride.

We walked down to the beach and stopped in at a few bong shops for laughs and stopped at this art gallery called Rock Paper Scissors that had some unreal things. We picked up a picture of a seagull carrying an octopus for Rachel and Mike's wedding present and headed to the beach where the newlyweds were.

After some more fun in the sun, we decided to make an evening show of Talladega Nights, which put the whole weekend into perspective just as we were all starting to get a little moody. After some late-night Ali G, we headed to bed. What a trip.

Time is like a snake that eats its tail

2006-08-10T13:28:00.000-05:00

Remember that part in Clueless where the stoner says something about how his kids are going to think Nine Inch Nails are nerdy and not dangerous at all? I remember hearing that and thinking, no way man, keyboards and electric guitars and screaming about slavery and rough sex will never stop terrifying people. Well flash forward to this past weekend when I plugged my iPod into my sister's comp and took a look at what she had... 90's 90's and more 90's. Beck's Mellow Gold, the first CD I ever had? Check. Ill Communication, the sound of my 16th birthday? Check. Even Blind Melon, the band that existed like a cool breeze blowing out of my brother and sister's rooms for a few years in Jr High, until Shannon Hoon bit it. Another thing in my mind was how my dad gave me a gift certificate to iTunes for my birthday, and tearing up the charts now are the usual "I'm in Love with a Stripper"-esque ditties. Are the 90's coming back like the 80's did? I don't know... But I do know that I just gave a listen to Hole's first CD and I don't remember it sounding half this good. I doubt my kids will ever like it, though... too soft for them haha.

EDIT: Here's an article today that summarizes how I feel about it. A 40 year old takes on the top 40. I guess I just took on the top 25... notice how SOS and the new Jessica Simpson song are just rehashes of the 80's. Are hip hop versions of NIN and nirvana around the corner? Well, maybe that's why I like Girl Talk. Can you hear the Elastica mashed up with the Big Boi?

Talkin Bout Girl Talk

2006-08-08T11:08:00.000-05:00

So I'm back from San Diego, aka "Whale's Vagina" if you don't speak Spanish, and I'm going to wait to tell the story of the journey until I have all the pictures from the wedding and the beach and the parties, etc. But it went well enough that I think I'm going to plan my next trip, a little Megabus-aided jaunt to Chicago to see Ratatat and Girl Talk in September. Aside from catching DJ Shadow and David Banner performing their new song, I can't think of an act I'd rather see.* Ratatat is a couple dudes who like to make wha wha whaaa noises with guitars in lots of weird ways and put cougars in their songs and pose by Ferraris in press photos. Girl Talk is this dude who just mashes up things like Dem Franchise Boys and Weezer with Biggie and the Verve and Elton John and Elastica and Nirvana and Lil Wayne. Both I heard about through mp3 blogs, and call me late to the party, but I had no idea there were so many out there.

Anyway, speaking of internet hype, Cassidy and I are headed to see Little Miss Sunshine this week, it should be pretty funny if the internet journal globe is spot on. HA!

*EDIT: DJ Shadow, October 6th at the Pageant, just announced! Who's coming with me?
*EDIT 2: I almost said Muse instead of DJ Shadow... Now they're coming to town Sep 14! That's a badass month of concerts!

Beach Time!

2006-08-02T14:00:00.000-05:00

I was all prepared to make like Daryl Doran last night. I got a call from Fudge that a friend's indoor soccer team needed fill-ins because of a 21st birthday party. So I called up my boy Geoff and headed over to the Soccerdome. I planned on hammering along the boards, dropping a few in along the top shelf, orchestrating a nice 2-3-1 from the bench (no not really). But turns out that somebody got the time wrong from an email, and we all missed the game by 15 minutes, so the whole team forfeited. Crock of shit.

Anyway, I just played a little pointless 5-on-5 with some buddies from my first high school and then was recouperating (sad, I know) when I saw an interesting interview on Leno with some guy about princess Di. He claimed that one time she did cartwheels in a leopard print bikini for the paparazzi on top of a boat to overshadow her husband's mistress's 53rd birthday. Of course that's going to get the front cover over some meaningless birthday. Anyway, it was fitting that I saw this because I'm headed to La Jolla, California for a wedding and it just seems like crazy fun stuff always happens on vacation, and you just can't plan it. So cheers to cartwheels and birthdays and weddings. The planned stuff will be great, but I'm sure I'll end up with a great story or two when I get back.

P.S. Fudge (real name Eugene Tucker) got his story in line to be on McSweeney's front page! Congrats, man! As for what it's about, I'm not going to spoil the surprise except to say it's about Barry Bonds. Look for it in the next couple weeks. Maybe we can get it on Deadspin, although they didn't print the last link I gave them, presumably because it questioned their reporting tactics and the resumee of their editor!

Pirate Booty

2006-08-01T11:47:00.000-05:00

So I was reading "Under the Black Flag" last night and there were lots of interesting details. One stood out, however. There was a section on Life at Sea, and how the Pirates were actually very organized, having contracts and even a rudimentary Workers' Compensation fund. For example, if you lost your right arm taking a ship you got 600 pieces of eight. If you lost your left arm, 500. If you lost your right eye, only 100. Basically, I think this is why so many pirates were walking around with some sweet-ass eyepatches and hooks. They'd just got a bunch of money, why not blow it on some fashion accessories, and turn a negative into a positive, eh matey? There was probably enough left over for a couple jugs of wine and a wench's company too. It makes me wonder about modern day gangs, that I just read about in "Can't Stop, Won't Stop". If they'd had some type of Workers' Comp system like this, I bet youd see all these dudes with iced out legs.

"Yeah man, it's platinum."