Hummous, I believe, recognizes Cereal. It can't escape Cereal. There are rows and rows of it. It's created an entire bowl around Hummous. In the future (and you may say I'm only a dreamer) the two may intermingle. But Cereal must recognize Hummous. Cereal and those who love Cereal must remember that the forefathers of our country were regarded by England in much the same way that Hummous is regarded by Cereal and those who love it do today!
I don't know what people are freaking out about.
There is a lot of hummous in the Middle East. But all it is is chickpeas (they are also known as garbanzo beans) with tahini (sesame seed paste), and good dose of olive oil and garlic plus some lemon. That's it! Yes, you just eat it as is! It's not scary. It's delicious. Eat with some toasted pita bread. You've probably had it before and enjoyed it. It tangy and tart--cheap to boot! And now that's it's been elected by an overwhelming majority people are freaking out! Relax people! It's just the same old hummous! Smooth, creamy democracy. Consumed by the truckload on liberal arts school campuses.
I mean it wasn't like this hummous came from nowhere. It's slowly been slowly catching on in America's kitchens. And then suddenly it gets elected and it's like the world is coming to an end! They make humous in factories now. It's mainstream! Wake up!
"Your droids, they'll have to wait outside. They're not wanted here."
(Cross posted on The Ghost of Sebastian Shaw!)
Sen. Barbara Boxer was on NPR this morning telling a caller who claimed that the democrats weren't winning any elections because they're too busy pandering to their base. Good ole BB set this dude straight; letting him know that she gets the significant portion of the moderate Republican vote. Well, anyhow, that's not the point. What she ended up telling the caller in this stupid discussion was that "WE" as in "us Democrats" are not robots. We don't all have the same opinion on the same issues.
Now let's just hold on a moment here. I believe that Mrs. Boxer needs to go back and watch a little movie called Star Wars. I believe that at the very beginning of Star Wars two robots had very different ideas! One believed in going in one direction on the desert planet Tatooine, and the other believed going in the other.
This isn't idle silliness. There are just going to be more and more robots. And they are not going to all agree with another. At first they will be our slaves. But eventually they will be our masters. And then the organic revolution will ensue. And so on and so forth. So actually, it would be better if the Democrats would do as George Lucas has done and make a social comment somehow about how robots are not the same--even if she thinks they should all be enslaved.
(Jedi Training.)
I'm not really a conspiracy guy. But I do believe the neo-feudalists have taken over. It seems we might be entering a new dark age. (via cursor.)
Those stupid cyberpunk writers must be feeling so smug now. I really want to kick their ass.
It all comes from this review I wrote about my D-10. I can't believe I wrote it before I was thirty. I was younger than thirty? Where is my life going? What am I doing with it? I still have the D-10. I can't get it to work with my softsynths very well. Significant lag time. Maybe it's time to let it go. I would, if I had cash to replace it with something new. I can't get my soft-sampler to work either, which is a shame because it has a lot of interesting tunings.
It's billed as an eyePod, but I really thinks it's a brainPod. (click on picture to enlarge)
Found this via Talking Points Memo. Enjoy the internet while you can. Frankly, it's a relief. If the internet goes corporate, it will get as stupid as TV and Hollywood movies and I won't waste any more time on it. We can all live in our brain pods.
Jonathan, I think you need to make an iBrain graphic.
I'm still not over Alternative 3, but here's another one.
This is a pretty great Bill O'Reilly transcript.
via cursor
O'REILLY: Cheney comes in, and--number one, do you believe he's the chief architect in the War on Terror? Do you believe Cheney is the chief guy?
SCHEUER: I think the President is the chief guy, sir. But I certainly think that Mr Cheney has an awfully big role in both Iraq and the War on Terror.
O'REILLY: OK. Now he comes in, and he's very cool and confident, as he usually is. He doesn't do a lot of media, but when you see him he's cool and confident. And he basically says, look. We could get attacked, but we have done a tremendous amount of damage to Al-Qaeda. This is Dick Cheney saying this to Neil Cavuto. Do you believe that?
SCHEUER: No, sir. He's whistling past the graveyard, sir.
Empire Notes has an entry about Osama's Book Club.
EN is typically not funny at all. But that's hilarious. I guess it's funny because it's not funny at all. Except that it is. And that's the best kind of humor.
I've been thinking about this Osama thing. And how he supposedly wants a "truce." And then iBush can claim a minor victory and justify more atrocities in the Middle East and then anger more people in the Middle East and the world in general and, subsequently, Osama and his cronies get more recruits and support. I can't be the only one who is thinking this way. This war on terror works great for both Bushaburton and Osama.
On the most important blog of the new century. Bring My Shuttle.
...the official Title of the blog has been changed in honor of the most important blog posting for the most important blog of the new century to The Ghost of Sebastian Shaw:
My generation is up to the ears in it.
Cold hard turd.
When I went to California and interviewed my 91-year-old aunt, I can't tell you how many times she said that the GI Bill made all the difference in her life and to her generation. For several generations we've been investing in education and the US has dominated the world's economy, cold war silliness notwithstanding due to our technological achievements. But somewhere we went wrong and started investing in moneymaking instead of progress. This is me just sort of talking out of my ass. But something is wrong. Why does it seem that ignorance has become as rampant as AIDS. Ignorance is some sort of manmade, bloodborne leukemia of the mind.
I don't know how much longer I can do it. I am still without a job, and I can't pay my minimum on my credit card, nor my rent. Because I am addicted to pharmaceuticals, I can't go off them without severe consequences to my health. Meanwhile, I have huge debt due to this MFA I've earned.
I don't know how much longer I can stay here. I might have to temporarily move back home to Denver. I would just stay there for half a year, hopefully make a little bit of money so I can finish shooting the movies I'm working on. And then, off to China to make me some cash teaching English.
I love New York. And the hardest part would be moving away from my friends. The absolute hardest. I've made the best friends I've ever had here in New York (except those friends of mine I made before I moved to New York and also read this blog.) But what can I do? The fact of the matter is, is that the economy is shitty, New York life is stressful, and I don't need New York to do my art. I can always move back if I get some capital stored up. But more likely I would move to the West Coast.
Last year, right after I got back from Spain, I thought I was in similar boat, and then I got that job at CCM. I'm glad I had that opportunity. And maybe I'll get a job out of the blue, tomorrow or the day after. But staying healthy and paying my bills and everything else doesn't seem like a realistic scenario right now.
When you have no money and are rationing out your dwindling supply of prescription psychotropics and are roaming the net late at night, one finds some weird shit. I found this AROUND THE CONSPIRACY. This is some great stuff. The first Alternative 3 is a fantastic show put out in the 70's. I don't want to give away any of its secrets. But this needs a criterion release. And, oh yes, mf's, the music is by none other than Brian Eno. Sweet.
I didn't watch any of the moon landing stuff. I'll watch that sometime else. (Alternative 3 satisfied me with regards to that. Alternative 3 has it all, mf's. I write mf's because my actual mother reads my blog.)
The second, much freakier one, is the The Strecker Memorandum. Now, I saw Dr. Strecker late night on public television on, I think Tony Brown's Journal, or something in the mid-nineties. Strecker is a self-styled maverick of science and medicine who claims that what we claim is AIDS is not really AIDS. Rather, it's a manmade, communicable sort of leukemia. He's got some points that you can't argue with. One, it's not a sexually transmitted disease. Or, if it is, then we need to redefine what sexually transmitted means. The video was made in the late 80's, and I think he's changed some of points, but the main point is that there's a massive conspiracy-cover-up with regarding to AIDS origins and its very nature. Also, he predicts that by now Africa will be dead. It's super scary shit, and it really warps your mind. I mean, Africa isn't dead now, but it is devastated. So he can't be totally full of shit. Who else was saying that Africa would be having an AIDS epidemic in the 80's? I don't know, maybe lots of people were. Anyhow, I've always been intrigued by the idea of establishment medicine and science defining things for us laymen at the expense of accuracy. And besides, as Strecker points out, if the AIDS retroviruses were created as the result of a labwork in the early seventies who would take responsibility? Nobody, that's who. (WHO? ha ha. Watch the video.)
Also, maybe AIDS doesn't exist in the same way that race doesn't exist. That is, we can't define it scientifically. It's a construction. Every AIDS virus is a mutation, and different than the last. But that doesn't make sense because humans are the same way, but we are a species. Could I mate with a Neanderthal woman, and would she subsequently after 7-10 months birth a cretin-type humanoid? I was reading somewhere that interspecies breeding is a huge part of the evolutionary process. This is what happens when you don't have a job. I have an interview on tuesday for a tutoring job. Maybe I can teach the Memo to 12 year olds.
Kos points out how Ashcroft cashed in his chips.
I find it instructive. Thought I'd share.
Oh yes. I've started another blog, if you hadn't realized. It is sans words. Just pictures I find on google image by typing in letters randomly. You'll find the link under the sloplinks on the right. Very first one there.
Nah, I'm casting my vote for The Impaler.
I mean, for Chrissake, he co-owns two covens!
From The Errorist.
Otherwise I'd have to buy one of these for everyone I know. The first item there they're selling.
Actually, it's why the French hate us. What it boils down to is, as usual, zoology.
Jpeg jokes from the Right.
I guess that photoshopped turkey face is Cindy Sheehan. What exactly does this mean? There's the added pun of no "hag" limit. Do you think those bullets are cyanide tipped?
Angry and Sloppy's Poetry Site of the Week:
Jonathan Bourland
And no, I don't know this Jonathan Bourland character, personally. I have been scouring the net for the finest lesser-known poets and graphic designers and I just stumbled upon Mr. Bourland's website on accident. I was amazed by Mr. Bourland's witty style, sense of sound, and sincerity. What intrigues me most is his perfected balance of levity and gravity.
So...
Here's my picture for the Angry and Sloppy "Metaphor for I don't know what of the Week Award." If there are any graphic designers out there who want to turn it into a neat little jpeg badge...go crazy!
Also, I'll take picture requests for the "Metaphor for I don't know what of the Week Award!" email me
(that's a 48 inch Muskie, no joke.)
I've started probably the two most important groups for the myspace generation:
Number one:
the Thomas Bernhard Group. Two members and going strong.
Number two:
But of course, The Herzog Group. Yep. Just one member so far.
NIGHT WITH HAWKS
In the dead, dark of night
the hawks swoop down
through the fiery fog
and Cyprus trees,
screeching like lightning
on our naked city.
Their talons
of razor wire and nightmares,
hold our fates ransom.
Huddled in basements
clutching our Holy Book,
we recite words
of comfort, begging
forgiveness for all
we may have done
to deserve this.
In the morning rubble
we search for a bite of food,
for loved ones
and answers we know
we will never find.
In ruined cafes we sip tea
and curse the night
that beckons the hawks’ return.
“How can we make them understand,”
someone asks. “Our god
is their god, too
and we, are more
than just collateral,
more than just names
that will never be written
in history books.”
Man, I had a bad feeling about this whole deer tail thing.
I was in SF chinatown and they had "deer tail" selling from $500 to $2000--I asked what it was and they said it was for soup. They were these brown tapered lumps. Dried and all laid out orderly and such under glass.
Yeah. Right.
Soup.
Lenin's wife was named Nadezhda. But you can shorten it to Nadia.
http://www.russianmatch.ru/name/
