Real American: The Video!

Well I guess someone else was inspired by the Hulk endorsing Obama as well. This might be the greatest political video I've ever seen. Enjoy!

Real American: The Video

So I've Gone Away, But Not Forever

At last one of the great lost treasures in music is going to be reissued, Dennis Wilson's "Pacific Ocean Blue". The only album ever released by the 'Ringo' of The Beach Boys it was finished just shortly before he tragically and ironically drowned in the Pacific Ocean. It comes out May 13th on CD and double vinyl after being almost impossible to find for 20 years. To quote a review of the album "Pacific Ocean Blue is a moody view of the SoCal landscape, and of Wilson's own interior life; or his struggle to have one." Recorded over a 7 year span through the cocaine and whiskey, through the years of befriending Charles Manson, the years of rehab and relapse, 3 divorces, and a failed fling with Christine McVie of Fleetwood Mac, it almost serves as a diary to the final years of his life.

As Dennis so aptly put it on the day of his death "I'm lonesome. I'm lonesome all the time."

Forever

The Great Depression

Using a trading format where traders "buy and sell" candidates, issues, and news features, the Rasmussen Markets harness competitive passions to provide a reliable leading indicator of upcoming events.

Rasmussen Markets data gives Clinton a 62.6% chance of winning the Democratic nomination and Obama a 37.0% chance. On the Republican side, McCain is now given a 88.0% chance of winning the nomination while Mitt Romney is at 13.7%.

In the general election, McCain now leads Clinton 48% to 40%. He leads Barack Obama 47% to 41%.

From One Real American to Another

In the age of celebrity action star endorsements we have a new one. The man who fought off a turncoat ex patriot in Sgt. Slaughter, a Yokozuna from the Orient, fought corporate greed in Ted DiBiase, a terrorist from the middle east in the Iron Sheik, and a Warrior from Australia. Huck has Chuck, McCain has Rambo, and now Obama has Hulk Hogan. Now that'd be a match I'd pay to see!

Hulk on Jimmy Kimel
Real American

Bahamas Pants: 2007-2008

I was just sitting here at my computer hoping to blog about something important and meaningful when the crotch of my pants ripped. For real, it even made that cartoon fabric ripping sound and everything. What a horrible feeling. I feel like such a fat piece of shit right now. Who does this ever really happen to besides dads on "America's Funniest Home Videos" and Josh Peck?

Actually, the truth is that its happened to me like 5 times before--I over wear every single pair of pants I own and most all of them pass away in the same sudden way. F this, how am suppose to blog now with this shit on my mind?

Do You Remember Ah-Ha?

I've heard that each time we remember something, we actually relive that moment, thus recreating that experience in our minds and usually molding that memory, given that there is that margin of human error. Since we live in such advanced (and you must say advanced like you are a exconvict pressman) times, I wonder if our appettite for documentation will eventually spiral us into a mode of self-perpetuation, on account of each experiences being "remembered" so exactly (with the internets and all)...

The Passing of the Torch

As U2's 'City of Blinding Lights' blared through the halls of America University, in front of a crowd of 2,000, congressman Patrick Kennedy, Caroline Kennedy, and the 'Lion of the Senate' Teddy Kennedy came out and passed the torch along to one Barack Obama. There were tears in the eyes of the crowd and as this event came to a close the great voice of Stevie Wonder rang through the speakers singing 'signed, sealed delivered, I'm yours' with a chorus of "Yes we can" providing harmony. As Chris Matthews so eloquently put it, "You want to know what the 1960's looked like, this is what they looked like".

Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I'm Yours!

Party Bus Goes 'Round and 'Round

Last night Ryan, Todd, me, and about 25 other people went on a Party Bus on Saturday to celebrate a friend's birthday. For only $30/person we rode around in this big bus with couches, bar (complete with mixers and ice), black lights, toilet, loud sound system, and managed to make three bar stops. BYOB. Ryan started us off with some champagne then I moved on to Jack's and Coke and didn't look back. There really is something to being totally tuned up on a moving bus blasting Danzig's Mother (Todd's request) while making a left turn in the middle of Manhattan to make you feel alive in 'o8. I took this picture with my cell phone in front of the "bus bar" (two words that go surprising well together). The morale of the story is if you ever get the chance to party on a crowded bus, don't miss this excellent opportunity.

Next Saturday is my birthday party, of course, everyone is welcome to join me on that sloshy, sloshy night of debauchery.

How Not to Die Like Heath Ledger

A repost of a HuffingtonPost.com article reposted on Gawker.com:

Don't take depressants together! Don't mix benzodiazepines with sleeping pills! Or opioids! Or antihistamines! But especially opioids.

"About 75% of all overdose deaths involve drug combinations: the most deadly combinations seem to involve opioids plus other depressants. According to the federal Drug Abuse Warning Network, more overdose deaths are caused by opioid mixtures than by any other single drug or combination of drugs."
And there's good news!

"Cocaine use is reported in a significant minority of overdose deaths: however, because cocaine counteracts some of the sedating effects of depressants, it may actually reduce overdose risk from opioids."
(Just avoid shooting it.)

Have a great weekend, everybody!

I Love Hippies

Don't you? Found this pic on Gawker.com.

Brad Rainz accused of doping?

As reported here on puttingthinsinplainsite.com former professional wrestler Brad Rainz (real name Brad Glisson) has been accused of doping. No details yet whether it was the 'cream' or 'the clear' or 'the green'. A quote from CWF says "In 2003, 'Slick' Ric Converse and The Brads (Brad Attitude and Brad Rainz) formed arguably the greatest faction in CWF Mid-Atlantic history. By 2007, one was retired, one was a former World champion, and one had signed with the WWE." Attached below is a link to a video tribute to the faction, but with these recent allegations will Brad's two tag team title reigns be tarnished?

VIDEO

Rezko with Hillary?

So you know that ole adage 'those in glass houses shouldn't throw stones' and that one about 'a picture says a thousand words', well put those two together and you get the above. Hillary and Bill, standing right beside Mr. 'slum lord' Rezko himself.

"HEY HEY, MY MY"

I was listenin' to some Neil Young on the way to work. Very advantageous. "Out of the Blue and into the Black." Did you hear the New York Times officially backed Hillary today? Brad, I know you're thrilled.

"Hey, Tim's Back"

I've been reading about the guy below, Tim Masters, who was just released from a Colorado prison after serving 9 years for a crime he did not commit.

http://www.cnn.com/2008/CRIME/01/23/masters.case/index.html

I have to say, this fellow got rail-roaded pretty good. Masters was falsely convicted of murder when he was 15 and the prosecutors actually used his "violent drawings" as key evidence. But what 15-year-old who can hold a pencil upright isn't sketching violence? I had countless pictures of swords entering heads and dudes with laser eyes melting crotches. Anyway, this guy lost 9 years of his life for absolutely nothing. So now what? Masters is owed almost a decade worth of time, but how do you possibly repay him?

If I was a lawyer and Tim was my client I would go nutz-o on the state of Colorado. Here is a partial list of demands I would make on behalf of Tim Masters:

1.) Money. A yearly salary of 20 million dollars for the next 20 years.

2.) With the exception of murder and rape, Tim is allowed to commit any crime one time before being held accountable.

3.) Tim is exonerated from all victim-less crimes for the rest of his life (drug possession, peeing or pooping in public).

4.) The state must employ a staff of foxy prostitutes and assign them to find Tim in public and have sex with him. Tim will not be notified when this is happening.

5.) Tim is from Colorado. For the next 5 seasons Tim will throw out the first pitch of every Friday Rockies home game.

6.) Tim is allowed 1 punch in the face per week to the people who put him in jail.

7.) Tim gets free rides whenever he pleases on any military vehicle of his choice (Stealth Bomber, submarine).

8.) When Taco Bell comes out with a new item, Tim is the first to try it.

9.) Tim's home and surrounding property will be recognized as the 51st U.S. state. This new state will be worth 30 electoral college votes forcing every Presidential candidate to make personal visits to Tim Master's home and kiss his ass.

I Went to The Moon, Got Drunk, and Starting Playing the Banjo

This headline made me think how crazy it would be to have the opportunity to go into space. Seems like it would take a decent amount of effort to be in the shuttle, you know? But then, before liftoff, everyone's drinking! Like bottoms up?!?! "Aren't we about to go into space? I don't know guys." Getting drunk in space? I hope they really were drinking. What alcohol product would you bring into space with you?

King of the Deathmatch '08: My Hate for Hillary

So I've sat here and tried to think of various clever ways to break down my disdain and growing hate for Hillary Clinton. I've thought of clever sport metaphors, I've thought of riffing off Glenn Beck's "she's Stalin in a pant suit" line, I've thought of laying out various semi coded racial remarks her and her staff have made, but none of those seem to convey the true meaning of how I feel. I feel the only way to declare my loathe for her is through sheer blinding rage and a reference to Japanese wrestling.

As anyone who knows me knows, I follow politics as a second religion. I've seen every presidential candidate debate over the past year, Republicans and Democrats, I watch on average 40 hours of political coverage in a given week, I've watched all the announcement speeches when they've decided to run, I read about the candidates policies, I fact check online, I read the blogosphere, I watch there speeches, hell I even watch the phone in hour on CSPAN now. Russert, Matthews, Scarborough and Maher have become like members of my family I watch them so much. Hannity and Colmes are like my gay neighbors, O'Reilly is the sheriff, Blitzer the county clerk, and Dobbs the angry mayor trying to get rid of all the illegals. There's Rudy and McCain, the leaders of the local militia, Huckabee's the pastor of the near by First Baptist church, and grumpy old man Thompson sitting on his porch rocking back and forth in his chair. Mr Edwards leads the local union, and there's this Obama fella speaking down at the black church with white kids littered throughout the pews. But out in the highfalutin area of town is the mother fucking Clintons.

Now I must admit, I loved Bill. I truly truly did. His skill as a politician, the way he could bend words, work a crowd, make you believe he felt your empathy, he was an absolute master. Also I was a fan of a good portion of his policies. But there was always one thing about him I didn't like, and that was his wife. With her wretched look, her incessant clapping, and her screeching voice, not to mention her healthcare debacle. I never trusted her. I would've given my life for Bill but something about her I never trusted.

Fastforward to last spring when Hillary sat on that couch, looked the cameras directly in the lens, and said "lets talk, lets start a conversation" in this sweet sincere voice. But from that moment on she's been nothing but a full blown raging bitch. I've watched her run on her husband's experience as her own, her surrogates have accused Obama of being a cocaine dealer, and a Muslim, she's butchered the truth, questioned Obama's record on the war when he's the one who said in 2002 "I'm not against all wars, just dumb wars", she voted for the fucking war. Stood up there, after NOT reading the intelligence reports, and authorized the "Authorization for Use of Military Force Against Iraq Resolution of 2002" and then went on Meet the Press and said she did NOT vote for military force...WHAT? That makes no Goddamn sense Hillary. You're a fucking liar. She will do anything to win, including cry like a bitch. Now I feel for people with tears, I truly do, but when you cry because you are loosing an election and say through your crocodile tears "Some of us are ready, and some of us aren't, some of us are right and some of us are wrong" then that counts as crying like a bitch.

But then the worst happened, she brought out the beast, Bill Clinton. The current king of the Democratic party. The man with 83% approval rating with Democrats. A self proclaimed feminist using her husband to fight her battles for her, ironic aye? He went to New Hampshire and said "I cant make her younger, tall, or male", played the gender card, and then obscured Obama's war record. Then he goes to Nevada and continues the games, the lies, and the half truths. And then he goes to South Carolina and says he's going door to door church to church to beat Obama. Well you know what Bill, Fuck you. Fuck you and your sorry ass wife. You two may be wonderful politicians but you have both become shitty ass people. You take peoples words and twist them for your own gain, you tag team up against your opponent, and then when someone attacks you back you go 'aww shucks, they're getting frustrated'.

When Teddy Kennedy and Rahm Emanuel have to call you and tell you to tone it down that's sad. When the head of the black caucus, James Clyburn tells you to "Chill", then there's a problem. Hill and Bill have gone too far this time and have made me loose all respect for them. If they get the nomination, and I say they because from the way they are campaigning this will be a dual presidency, then I will not vote or will vote Republican just out of spite. And yet they claim that after disenfranchising the black electorate and the youth electorate that the Democratic party will 'come together', that after the Clintons and Obama have beaten and bloodied one another that all will be well, well you're wrong.

And for some reason all of this strangely reminds me of the 1995 King of the Death Match final between Cactus Jack and Terry Funk. Well there they were, the young charismatic Cactus Jack, versus the wiley veteran in Funk, battling over in the Orient in front of thousands of fans. Barbed wire was wrapped around the ring, boards rigged with barbed wire and c4 were in the ring, ladders, chairs, and the whole ring was rigged to blow at 10 minutes in. They hated each other and were willing to do anything to win. Funk was DDT'd head first into the explosives, Cactus was thrown into the barbed wire, they raked oneanothers faces across the barbs, they damn near killed themselves. The ring even exploded at one point sending fire and sparks into the air. But as Terry Funk laid there motionless in the ring Cactus climbed the ladder, crimson mask and all, blood so thick over his face he could barely see, ready to drop the elbow, but at that moment Terry stood up and pushed Cactus off the ladder sending him and the ladder into the barbed wire. But as he hit the wire the force of it sent the ladder springing back catching Terry in the face knocking him out in the process and allowing Cactus to regain his composure enough to crawl over and pick up the victory. But the difference in this bloodbath and the one playing out on the campaign trail is that both of these competitors shared respect for one another, a respect Hillary knows nothing of. So yes Hillary, You and Obama can beat and bloody one another all along the eastern seaboard and then across the February 5th states, but until you start showing some respect then you will have no chance of reconciling the party. But hey, maybe we'll get lucky and when you push Obama off the ladder it'll spring back and catch you in the face!

Snottin' Around With Mr. Mucus

"Loooook who's stoppin' by, the little fucking bastard!" He comes into style at least once a year, but he doesn't impress me all that much. "Mr. Mucus coming to blow up my spot?" One more thing on my plate, and it is green boogers. A sign there is something definitely wrong. "Wait, it's not snot, Itsn0t. But no, it is snot! Dirty little booger, you can run down my throat, but you can not hide!" I will find you.

Don't you think you're being a little extreme? "What have I done?" I'm always shooting off at the mouth before thinking. "Mr. Mucus I didn't mean it! I love your fucking suspenders, plaid pants, and badass demeanor. Your hat is cool. Who else is so round and profound, to give me that toothsome half smile, and flex those big muscles. You know what they say about boogs with big hands!

Mr. Mucus I promise I'll never use Mucinex, because I like having you around. You're so natural, and are really only here to help. I'm serious. Take a seat and I'll get you a beer. Do you listen to Dylan?

One-Sixth of Bob Dylan Has Died

http://cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/01/22/actor-heath-ledger-is-found-dead/

Music, Oscar, Mitt & Dogs

Our favorite soundtrack of the year for our favorite movie of the year wasn't nominated for an Oscar. Why? It wasn't even eligible. New York magazine explains:

"[Jonny Greenwood's score for There Will Be Blood]was disqualified from the Best Original Score category because it's "diluted" by a significant amount of "preexisting music" (in addition to the guitarist's 35-minutes of original work, Blood's soundtrack contains 46 minutes worth of pieces by Brahms and Estonian composer Arvo Part, among others). Worst of all is that Paramount Vantage wasn't notified of the Academy's decision until Saturday, making it too late for the studio to appeal, or for Greenwood to quickly write an additional hour of music."

The movie did get 8 other nominations, though.

In other music news, Mitt Romney is the shizznit.

Today I Buy a Sledgehammer & Change My Life

I have been thinking, lately, that I might like to be healthy. I have never been healthy: I've always been thin and pastey and wheezy when jogging. I don't like vegetables or fish or vitamins. I have never been a fan of physical fitness. I don't like running, I don't like lifting, I don't like stretching, I don't like stairs, I don't like boxing, I don't like sitting- pushing- or pulling-up.

The only physical activity I can remember enjoying is digging holes. Some of my earliest memories are of digging holes. There was the time in pre-school when I was digging a hole underneath of a picnic table and saw a thick, long, dark, round, pipe-like thing that I was convinced was a snake. It was not a snake, just the buried bent-pipe leg of the picnic table I was digging under.

Other notable holes I've dug:

- Long, shallow, trench-like hole dug in secret in my backyard for use while playing Hide-and-Seek-in-the-Dark.
- Deep, round, cauldron-like hole dug into the beach at Cunningham Falls lake in attempt to dig world's deepest hole. Abandoned due to seepage.
- Narrow, deep hole dug and then covered with sticks, pine needles in attempt to capture and tame a squirrel and/or rabbit.

I think holes and the digging of holes appeal to me for many reasons. First, until I start digging, a particular hole has never existed before anywhere in the world. Second, especially for a child, there's not many things in the world you can claim to own. A hole, though, that you've dug, is permanent(ish) and personal. Holes also hold infinite promise -- you never know what you could find: a snake, maybe, or an arrowhead, or a dinosaur, or a bag of money, or maybe you'll just keep digging the hole and reach the other side of the world, or an underground cave or a natural spring. Most importantly: most holes, or at least the best holes, require a shovel.

Shovels are the perfect tool for a kid. The edges aren't particularly sharp, it's hard to lose control of, you can walk around using it as a staff like a wizard or ninja turtle or use it as a cane like the old man in Jurassic Park or as an axe for a fake beheading. Shovels are easy to understand; you'll never find yourself wondering about a shovel like you would ponder a miter box or worry about the evil uses for the claw-end of a hammer. Shovels make great sounds when they SSHTHUNCK into soil and can send a shiver up your spine when they scrape against a rock. Depending on your height, a shovel can also be much taller than its user, making it seem like you're defying the laws of physics by being able to deftly maneuver such an overwhelming object.

Today in New York City, where concrete covers almost every surface, it would be almost impossible for me to take up shoveling as a workout. I guess I could sneak into a city park in the middle of night and dig for hours. Then when dawn appears, fresh and rosy-fingered, I'd start to furiously fill the hole back in and replace a set-aside divot of sod to keep anyone from finding out. Impractical at best.

Recently I discovered ShovelGlove.com, a website that, I think, may change my entire life. Shovelgloving is the only exercise I've ever seen that actually looks like it might be enjoyable.

A rainy day inspired Reinhard Engels to invent ShovelGlove: a sledgehammer wrapped in a sweater. With motions like "chopping wood" and "churning butter" and, my favorite, "shoveling," Reinhard's goal is to recreate the motions and muscle-building activities that humans have engaged in for thousands of years. Reinhard uses a sledgehammer instead of a shovel for the extra weight, and wraps it in a sweater so it doesn't scratch his floor or scare his cats.

Imagining myself hewing logs for a frontier cabin sounds much better than lying face-up on a sweaty plank pushing weights up and down. And digging an imaginary hole might be almost as fun as digging a real one.

You May Enjoy...

Since there's been so much glee for Daniel Plainview, I figured I'd put some things in plain site. Has anyone seen Cobb? I won't begin to say it's as good as TWBB, cause it's not, but Tyrus Raymond Cobb was a true life Daniel Plainview (and arguable the greatest baseball player of all time). Tommy Lee Jones does the legendary competitor real justice in the movie...and we all liked him in No Country, right?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ty_Cobb

Lynched in a back alley?

Christ! The blankets are coming off. Hand check! Societal spring! The heat will poor. What else was stuffed down there? Anyone catch a glimpse of the now infamous Golfweek "noose" cover? I feel a violent '08 running full-steam ahead, straight for Sammy's bloated gut . . .

S-ss-ssscchhhlurrrrp!!

If you haven't seen There Will Be Blood, then you may want to avoid watching the YouTube video that comes at the end of this post. I don't think there's anything too-too spoilery, but it does feature what could be the best line of the movie.

I feel like TWBB was made specifically for me. Other people (like Mattical) might also enjoy it, but I don't think anyone can really appreciate it the way I can and do. Why? Because my two favorite movies of all time are Silence of the Lambs, the Academy Award-winning Best Film about chillingly genius psychopathic murderers and the people who chase them, and Gettysburg, the 4 1/2-hour long Civil War epic featuring more fake beards than an unauthorized Tom Cruise biography. TWBB combines these two films into a sort of "If They Mated" masterpiece of murderous, overly-long, period-piece, sociopathic, mustachioed, high-falutin' speechifying, landscape-y delight.

The only way this movie could have been better is if it was about Hannibal Lecter (played by Daniel Day Lewis) fighting on horseback across Antietam battlefield, cannons firing everywhere, beating up priests with bowling pins, then skinning off their faces to use as a disguise to sneak into the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry where he falls in love with Angelica Houston from The Royal Tenenbaums and they move to a brownstone full of eccentric characters in present-day Manhattan and then becomes besties with Bill Murray and Aunt Jackie from Roseanne.

Maybe once we've all seen the movie, we can totally dedicate this blog to worshipping TWBB and analyzing every scene and performance and coming up with theories (Identical twins?). Until then, please enjoy this video tribute to the MOVIE OF THE YEAR.

The Fab 5 Back at it Again

So in following in Matt's tradition of the 'favorite thing of 2008' I thought I'd share my new favorite. Yesterday everyone's favorite Fab 5, Radiohead spread the word that they were going to be performing at the Rough Trade record store in London and streaming it live on there radiohead.tv. Due to police concerns the show had to be moved down the street to 93 Feet East. Nevertheless, this is one of the best bands of all time just further increasing there legacy. Pitchfork/Youtube has the whole set for you after the jump. Enjoy!

Radiohead at 93 Feet East

You will know who to Vote for in 90 Seconds

Not sure if you guys have taken one of these "Presidential Quizzes" yet but they are pretty interesting. Very limited and impersonal I suppose, but still kind of fun. I just finished the one below and believe it or not I actually matched up the most with my Cuyahoga boy Denny K. No joke.

Pencils ready: http://www.gotoquiz.com/candidates/2008-quiz.html

16 Days into 2008

16 Days into 2008, and I know what I like!

What's mean, tough, and rough and covered in OIL!? Last night I saw an AMAZING movie, There Will Be Blood. (Don't worry non-New Yorkers, I'm sure it'll eventually make it to a theatre near you.) Given the fact that Daniel Day Lewis is a total badass (have you seen a better butcher?), Johnny Greenwood does the soundtrack (have you heard any weirder music?), and Paul Thomas Anderson (Boogie Nights anyone?) was behind the lens, I had very high expectations. All I'm going to say is SEE IT, SEE IT, SEE IT! Sure, it's not your typical Pirates of the Transformers of the Lost Arc; it takes a true appreciation for cinematography to enjoy this sometimes slow, but always beautiful in a masculine way flick. Some say it's too anti-religion, too anti-capitalist, but in this day and age it was just what I needed for a tremendous movie experience.

Minutes into 2008, after I had my smootches and drank my champagne, I was watching the video clip below, Radiohead's Scotch Mist on Current TV. In case you didn't hear, they made this video specifically to be played at midnight on Current TV and their website. It mostly consists of them performing their new album, with some fun weirdness mixed. I've fallen asleep to this 52 minute piece of art blasting on YouTube many a night. Nothing (and I mean nothing) has come close to sounding as good as Radiohead's In Rainbows in recent memory. It takes me to another futuristic, happier, fitter, more productive world, Thom's World/Radiohead's SOUND WAVES. I think I've listened to the album at least 100 times this year, I shit you not.

Is there anything you've super dug so far this year (besides the Britney meltdown)? Please share.

A Rather Bold Idea (or inevitable claim of artistry)

With one Cack-o-lacky Dental Assista-Chic too many, I've decided to no longer accept their whooping comaparison as compliment. Despite the vulnerable droop of my drool-induced lip, their gawk giggled with pride and undetected convention. I've surpassed this peaking phenomenon with immaculate style and haste; a torch unfit to carry the weight of occasional resemblance.

Youtube Misfit

I often search my favorite songs on Youtube with no intention of watching the music video or even the original band itself performing it. Who doesn't? Today I typed in "Mother" by Danzig and 5 pages in I found these two gems.



I look at a kid like this and am just jealous of his parents--they get to hang out with him and listen to this all day. They won the child lottery.



This gives me chills - Chucky and Danzig should really work together more often.

Why why why why why must they ban smoking from everywhere

As reported right here by the Politico they've now banned smoking in congress. What a disgrace.

I Don't Know If It's a Blessing

Part of my job is to read Odd News-type articles and this morning I read this one about a 19 year-old filmmaker who goes to live in a retirement community.

AND I QUOTE:

Most unforgettable is Tammy, nearly 96, who is witty and reflective. She jokes that her pills are for birth control and blesses each new morning. But she also feels the pain that comes from outliving everyone who has been close to her. "I don't know if it's a blessing to live this long," she opines.

If I was 96, then I think I'd feel just about the same way. That's why I smoke Camel Lights: the cigarette of choice for people who aren't quite sure if life's a blessing or a curse.

Consumer Relations

This New York Times article made my day. Hilarious!

The Funkel

I heard about this on last week's TTRH and had to check it out. On his website, Art has posted every book he's read since 1968.

http://www.artgarfunkel.com/library.html

Racegate '08

So I don't know if anyone has been following Racegate or not, with the 'shuck and jive', cocaine mentions, the Muslim accusations, the 'roll of the dice', 'kid', 'fairy tale', Bill implying his wife was tougher than Mandela, and the recent slighting of MLK, but there is a new bit of trash to be dumped on the pile. As being reported by the New York Times, Robert L. Johnson, the founder of Black Entertainment Television, who is campaigning today in South Carolina with Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton, just raised the specter of Barack Obama’s past drug use. He also compared Mr. Obama to Sidney Poitier, the black actor, in “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner.”

The article then goes to state

He then added: “And to me, as an African-American, I am frankly insulted that the Obama campaign would imply that we are so stupid that we would think Hillary and Bill Clinton, who have been deeply and emotionally involved in black issues since Barack Obama was doing something in the neighborhood –­ and I won’t say what he was doing, but he said it in the book –­ when they have been involved.”

Moments later, he added: “That kind of campaign behavior does not resonate with me, for a guy who says, ‘I want to be a reasonable, likable, Sidney Poitier ‘Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner.’ And I’m thinking, I’m thinking to myself, this ain’t a movie, Sidney. This is real life.”

http://thecaucus.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/01/13/bet-chief-raps-obama-in-sc/index.html?hp

Weekend Reflection

As I am typing I feel a little "pickled" from the night before, whiskey still flowing in my veins. Great night though. I was in the Lower East Side at Arlene's Grocery to watch the Palominos (one of Richmond's finest rock 'n roll bands). They were very excited to see me and I was hella excited to see them. They didn't go on until 1am and the New York crowd was pretty, pretty, pretty tuned up by that point (myself included). Lots of people were dancing and there was a great vibe with everyone in the room. After their set they wanted to keep drinking, so we packed their stuff and headed to the Magician. We were out past last call. Once we stumbled back to their car, we noticed a huge puddle of blood where they parked, yum. It freaked them out, and I was like, "it's like this everyday here, just be glad it's not yours." Chin up. New York is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're going to get.

The posted picture is what it looks like in front of my apartment, 107th St., facing Central Park on a beautiful day. I took this last summer, but it's applicable to Today, another beautiful day. Just got back from downtown. Picked up a new pair of kicks which I'm pretty excited about. Anyone else watching The Wire tonight? "Money ain't got no owners, only spenders" - Omar

The Queer Folk are Dull

Plain site keeps puttin' things to me. Exceptionally clear as I walked into the coffee shop today. They now offer a brown bagged lunch and t-shirts that read "Coffee Addict." Funny stuff with them t-shirts. I haven't made use of my chest's vocal capacity for a long time now, but I try my best to love New York City. Are the worms bigger too? Anyway, it was a typical dreary day. Typical among the minor chapter of dreary days. Kind of a black sheep to the rest of 'em (talkin' bout them footprints, I tend to drag my tail / mute my path). The dude working the counter was not the one I intended to surprise with the golden nugget cased beneath my pocket. Rightly so, my hesitation secured my failure to acknowledge it. This guy was not at all excited to receive, see, or even touch a two dollar bill. The idea itself must have been commonplace to him, far ignorant to the human welfare I thought I was promoting. Hell, I should of kept the fucker to myself if it were to be thrown into the register so haphazardly. This is what laptop music does to the functioning brain; internally vomits the potential muse into a sea of stale PBR, swelling from the bottom of your torso. Time to bump up to a Large, eh? Maybe even snag an XL for next year. Irregardless, nice graphic. Even better (un)placement. Which call of African wildlife has yet to be claimed? Pink on brown always says "that." With a slight grin and need for more, I went with my best option and spoke. "That queer bill was meant to excite you . . . Rainy-Day Hero III (Full Band Version)." Apparently, he couldn't read the pixel-ratio of my dancing lip. Stood dull and proud, completely uncharmed. Addict fo' sho. The bone game is a gamble. House'll always win.

The Rubik's Cube has made me a Bad Person

Earlier this week I traveled to Delaware to visit my friend "Navy" Chad. Although the trip was a non-stop Delawarian death adventure, the stand out memory will be its where and when I finally learned to solve a Rubik's Cube. Now, using the word "solve" here is very misleading. I did not and cannot "solve" anything, especially a 3x3 rotating colored square. Rather, "Navy" Chad simply showed me the 7-step sequence of events one must memorize to correctly align the toy. The thing is really not difficult or challenging at all once you know the formula. It's like the adult version of learning your ABC's.

Here is the problem though--I have convinced myself that knowing how to do a Rubik's Cube is indeed a talent and I now find myself itching to 'cube it up' in front of as many people as possible (especially strangers).

I am truly at my worst on the subway. I have ditched my iTod in favor of a Rubik's and as I sit and wait on the train I become some sort of social predator, preying for attention. When enough commuters are gathered in my area I pull the scrambled cube out of my pocket and go to work, turning the squares in their predetermined moves as fast as I can. After a few minutes I feel eye balls on my hands. This only fuels my disease. When I twist the last 3 colors into place and complete the puzzle I hold it up at about chest level (making sure all my fans can see) and give it a half second once over as though I am "just making sure." I then immediately put the cube back into my pocket and start to read a newspaper. This is the most emotional time in the Rubik's experience for me. I get a rush where I simultaneously feel like not only the coolest person in the world but also its biggest fraud. As I pretend to read the paper (to appear well rounded) I am actually tilting my eyes up as far as I possibly can in order to see how many people were actually watching. My biggest crowd to date is 1. But he was smiling --which I see as the equivalent of a Rubik's standing ovation.

Part of me really doesn't know why I do this. If anyone ever actually approached me to talk afterwards I think I would be horrified. I have nothing intelligent or meaningful to say about anything math related. In conclusion, people who solve Rubik's Cubes on the subway are fake ass losers and if you ever see one just punch em' in the face. We most likely won't fight back.

Computer Love

So here I sit at 3:10 in the morning feeling obliged to blog about something as I just received this brand new tasty blogging invitation. And one might would assume that inspiration would be hard to come by at this time of night, or morning depending on your interpretation of the time. But low and behold what do I see? Snoop Dogg dressed in full on Roger Troutman gear, talk box, keytar and all. I tried adjusting the rabbit ears as I thought I was picking up some strange broadcast from 1979, but soon realized I had no rabbit ears and that the feed was coming straight through the satellite box. Ahhh takes me back to a simpler time, back before Reganomics and Baskin Robbins having 32 flavors, back to when a man simply needed a sister for a back up singer, a vocoder, a couple synthesizers, shiny suit with the chest hair hanging out, and of course a legitimate soul band. Hell beats having to have a big record label, a metrosexual hair cut, fake interest generated through some myspace groupies, and an over inflated review in Rolling Stone to get noticed. I guess you were right all along Roge, 'I no longer need a strategy thanks to modern technology'! Shooby doo bop, my computer love

Two Snakes And No Charm

"Look at them go. Completely fake and boring. This is total crap," I just thought to myself. I was wasting time on Youtubes, and came across this most ridiculous video. Honestly, people, are these girls ever going to pretend they're not being videotaped? It's like they tongue bomb each other from the start and can't stop thinking about what they look like on camera. RIDICULOUS! (in more than one way)

The Train Keeps Rollin'

If you don't live in New York City, then your carbon footprint is three times larger than mine. That means you are three times worse a person than I am. (facts to back up statement)

Because I live in New York City, I ride to and from work and to and from bars and to and from friends' apartments and to and from subways on a subway. These trains run under the ground and they cost $2 a ride. And they are the reason that I am (at least) 3 x a better person than you. Because they run on homeless people's dreams, not fossil fuel.

Most times on the subway train, there's trash. When you're lucky, the trash isn't especially sticky or smelly, it's fun. It's glass bottles that roll around everywhere. And when you don't have an iPod and you hear a bottle rolling towards you over the sound of the train rolling towards Manhattan you can look up and see the bottle head for your shoes and you can lift your feet into the air so the bottle rolls on through and keeps going and hits someone in their loafer or Ked.

If blind people (and the people with small dogs in hand bags who can't afford taxis) weren't allowed to bring their dogs onto subway trains, and therefore I had never seen a dog on a subway train, then I think a rolling bottle would be the closest thing to a puppy I have ever seen on subway train.

The people who made the video that I am about to paste into this blog thought there was something depressing about a bottle rolling on a subway train, so they used depressing music. HUGE MISTAKE. Instead, mute the bottle video and play PLANET ROCK by AFRIKA BAMBAATAA while you watch that crazy bottle spin and twist! Then keep watching the AFRIKA BAMBAATAA video because it is amazing.

Campaign 'o8 (the saga continues)

Who's on top and who's on bottom now? As I'm writing this post it's still, "too close to call" in the New Hampshire Democratic primaries. Personally, I'm leaning towards Barak Obama as our (assuming everyone reading this is "progressive") ticket's audacity of hope. Initially I was rooting for Hillary, but a month ago I realized it's 90% due to an unhealthy adoration of Bill Clinton. Then Oprah started rooting for Obama, and I was like, "it's on now!" She is THE most influencial person in America. B'lieve dat! Pundits shrugged off her influence, but I knew better. Have you seen Gen. Wesley Clark stumping for Hillary? I'm wondering if she'll pick him for VP if she won? Love that guy. After years and years of Bush's reign of terror, it's a good time to be a Democrat.

A few words for the Republican side... I really hope Hickabilly wins for them. He loves Chuck Norris, plays guitar, and loves Jesus even more than I do! Oh I hope, I hope, I hope he can defeat the big, bad Everyone Else! "(Huckabee) said he used to eat squirrels, cooking them up in his popcorn popper." Ah-may-zing!

First Post, Coast to Coast

Hello, to anyone who is reading this. I have created this "blog" so my friends and I can have some place to log in and post whatever we want. That's right, it's my plan to have multiple authors from all walks of life posting whatever they want, so we can all check it periodically and find some treasure. There's no rules or ideals, the powers of these posts are much too strong to be put into template. Post stories, literature, links, pics, and videos, whatever.

Below is the video for "Start Me Up" by the Stones, a good clip to usher in any new blog. You're welcome. Last weekend I spent a lot of time in Queens with Ryan watching VH1 Classic's "7 Ages of Rock." History of rock 'n roll never gets boring to me. No matter how many times I hear some dinosaur rocker say, "Dylan went electric and everyone hated it," I still love hearing it. The "American Alternative" rock age was personally the most enjoyable. It showed my teen idol (and last true rock 'n roller according to Viacom), Kurt Cobain, in various stages of rocking, drugging, and dying. Then modern day Michael Stipe (my favorite alterna-gay) said he tried to invite Kurt to Atlanta the week of Kurt's death. Mike didn't want him to be alone and depressed in the junkie rot state he was in. Too bad Hotlanta had yet to reach its full Crunkadelic potential (the world would wait until the early 2000s). Kurt would have found those hot beats irresistible, and he would still be alive today.

Finally, what do you think Kurt Cobain would be doing if he were still alive in 2008? Comments are always appreciated here.