TINTIN IS NOT THE ILLUMINATUS

Uhhhh...
I don't know exactly how or why I've come to that conclusion. But, goddamn it, there are just GOOD things in this world, and BAD things.

Tintin, I say, have a Leffe on the house.

I can't wait to hear the hiss when your feet hit hell

Very poetic.

Alan Jackson's 9-11 song:

I'm just a singer of simple songs
I'm not a real political man
I watch CNN but I'm not sure I can tell you
The difference in Iraq and Iran
But I know Jesus and I talk to God
And I remember this from when I was young
Faith hope and love are some good things he gave us
And the greatest is love

Really needs no explication.

Then there's Toby Keith. Here's the full set list. Really bad stuff. And I'm very disappointed with Willie Nelson for joining in. But I guess that guy probably still needs money.

This is all old news. But I'm just waxing nostalgic about my New York years. And downloading stuff on limewire while I still have broadband. Do I remember where I was? Do I know where I am? Where will I be in a week?

dirty dirty corporate sex

Dubai/Ports/Government versus Corporate Culture thing. Sirota's got a good one about the port issue.

Couple of thoughts. I shouldn't be sitting here. I should be packing. But I want to mellow out a little bit and drink my tea. First off--and I don't know why I didn't connect this in my brain earlier--but the people who run everything, the rich people and their corporations, have turned out government into a corporation. Basically, as I understand it, a corporation is a business adventure with no one person responsible. Root corpus, "body", right? It's its own body. It's a body with no head. You cut off the head and it still keeps living. (Back to the zombies, sorta.) You have a doofus figurehead. But he didn't know what was going on. And we can't point the finger at anybody else. It's a fuckin' cancer man. A virus. I don't know.

I had crazy dreams last night. First off. The other night I had a dream where Wendi got me a job working at a privileged high school in New York. My job was to teach 12 blonde girls 8 hours a day. Nothing dirty. Just us about grammar and science and stuff. And they loved me. And I got paid really well. And I got health insurance. The school was weird because it was just this big chamber, with a bunch of tables. And every table was a "classroom." Anyhow, I woke up and I thought, all right! I get to stay in New York because Wendi got me this great job. But then I remembered it was a dream. Then last night I had this dream where I was working for my relatives in Denver. And it really sucked because I was doing this envelope-stuffing kinda deal taht was inordinately convoluted and pointless and menial and other words I can't quite think of at the moment. But I was a big deal because I was nephew of the boss. And there were these bathrooms where the sinks were really high and you had to climb up this blue mushroom fixtures that stuck out of the wall in order to wash your hands. And when I was up at the top washing my hands a woman came into the room and didn't notice me and starting to go to the bathroom. I climbed down and we had a talk. After she washed her hands we walked around the office. She totally dug me. But maybe that was only because I was the boss's nephew. Yeah, probably.

A nice way of putting it: BLOOD AND TREASURE

Almost Shakespearian. Blood and Treasure.

Something we can't escape either. Each of us must exchange one for the price of the other, mustn't we, MISTER TINTIN?

I still haven't read the whole article!

But here's somebody saying how stupid the writer of the article is.


...via Atrios.



...update. I just read the whole article ABOUT the article. It seems the writer of the article is the REAL Fuck-o. And the New York Times is the Fuck-o by association. Dennett, I don't know about his Fuck-o status. He seems to know more about philosophy than the fuck-o at the New York Times. But they all know more about philosophy than me. I just get touchy when people start defending or attacking science without any sensititivity to the ideas in the philosophy of science. The New York Times guy says that science and philosophy are separate. Therefore he's a Big Fat Fuck-O with a capital O.

I still haven't read the whole article

It just seems dumb. I don't know why. Both sides of the debate seem dumb. I don't know why. I'm just being a fuck just talking shit. But both sides seem stupid. Here's the article. Both guys seem to have nothing better to do than talk shit. Fuck-o's. But here I am talkin' shit. But I don't have a book out or anything. I'm making one and it goes blah blah blah blah blah blah. And then someone can call me a fuck-o for saying blah blah blah blah blah. Oh, but you have to make a "rational" argument. And you have to provide "concrete" examples. Well yippidity doodaw. Notice this graphic on the second page of this article I haven't read all the way through:

It's kinda funny. Tintin would find the guy running the Illuminati.

HEY FUCK-O's:

TINTIN IS THE ILLUMINATI

More later.

The Rage of The Atheists

I didn't read this whole article. But I'll just throw in my two cents. You have to admit that religion is kinda stupid. But there's a flipside to that, and that, most everything is pretty stupid. Also, Dennett seems like a jerk.

Party People! Party People! HEY LAY-DEESSSS!

Sink about it. Make some noise!!!!

Zounds!

Herzog shows his wounds off his Christ-like wounds on the BBC. That air-rifle was a veritable spear of Longinus. PRAISE BE!


Here's the interview. I linked to it earlier, but of course I must link to it again!

I truly do not understand the world

I don't want to understand it. It's time to go find my shack in the woods and retreat from everything.


Also, I have no credit line now and so my netflix account is suspended. So there is no reason to continue to have anything to do with civilization.

Here's to Murray

More on You the Rock!

Apparently YTR can party whenever and wherever. He just has a party truck and can just go to places and party. That's his life.

Rapanese

Don't mess with THIS MAN. He reinvented HIP-HOP four times in the last 6 years.

....update!!!!! The man at work.

No SELL OUT '05!!!!!!


Word.

Cobra Verde

Very good review. Though, I have to say, I think its flaws ultimately drown its merits.

Perverts

I'm going to write to my elected representatives about this.

Finally!

Smurf Death-metal.

Sometimes I make something that's suitable for the whole family

My hymn to the good people at MBNA. Alternatively, you could click the picture to the right. It gets you to the same page.

If you care

Here are what the critics think about all the music comes out during the year. Sometimes I buy albums based on this information. (In those periods of my life where I have money.) But it's better just to let your friends burn you stuff. And then buy random stuff in places like Other Music. Also, THe COSMOS help me!, I've just discovered limewire. Last night I clicked on Avantgarde and started downloading everything that was listed as avantgarde. Strange things, like Alanis Morrisette and what have you showed up. SOmeday I'll figure out those newsgroup things and I'll download me some real shit, Like hEro Sandwich burns for me.

Things I'm into right now, Isis, Mastodon, and Emmylou Harris. She kicks ass. I would have never known, but I copied my mom's best of CD onto my iPod.

Curse of the Albini

I have been unsheathing my cd's from their jewelboxes. Having collected a bagful, I headed downstairs to trash them. The bag burst, unleashing a torrential flood of empty cd boxes. It was one of the most incredible sounds I've ever heard.

Shooting fish in a barrel

Has always seemed like an odd thing to say. Did somebody ever shoot a fish in a barrel? How about just pouring the contents of the barrel in a kettle. Fish soup. Or pour them out on some sort of easily cleaned surface and let the fish die in open air. Clean 'em. Cook 'em.

Cheney's got his own form of shooting fish in a barrel. Via Atrios. Atrios calls this mass slaughter. With a full chicken still in my digestive system, I can't blame anyone for mass slaughter. Mass slaughter plus a rotisserie rod plus hot sauce equals deliciousness. But the guys in the chicken slaughter warehouses usually aren't there for the fun of it. Cheney's got a weird hobby. For insight on this business in the arts, I suggest Anna Karenina for a sort of romantic view on hunting; and Renoir's The Rules of the Game for a little more of nuanced purposely ambiguous view.

My new life

I'm making a new life. Nomading. A nomad needs a proper chai recipe. I got this one. Little guidance here. I asked SeaSlug man once for his chai recipe, and he said, with only a shred of the most slender sprig of condescension, "well, there's a million recipes, buddy." No doubt he uses Tenzen Gyatso's brew--and I'll have to swear some Tibetan Voodoo-oath in order to be blessed with the secret to the hallowed concoction--something I won't do simply because it requires a brand of sincerity I don't have access to.

So I'm looking out for one. Once I get money to buy spices and such. And my Yellow Label Lipton (I know that much! Take that Gyatso!)

phu

mu

What killed Hip-Hop.

Forget Scott Free. This guy gets my vote.

The Poet Must not Avert His Eyes: Update on Herzog

Herzog was shot by an air-rifle during a BBC interview. It's available here. It's good. Via WFMU Beware of the Blog.

A review of GUMMO

That I think was written BY Gummo.

JESUS CHRIST

In RAP form. I hear it. But I just don't believe it.

He got nailed to the cross while the rest of us got off SCOTFREE. The BIG ONE, GEE OH DEE.

What a smurfy world

I will go to sleep tonight. I will buy bread in the morning. And maybe put some fish in the bread and eat the bread with fish that I put in it.

A martyr marinade.

A photo album sent from a planet outside of the solar-system arrived at my neighbor's . I opened it and it smelt of CANTON FUNG MEI FISH from the PEARL RIVER BRIDGE smoothly spread on fresh olive bread. I can taste it now.

ENshalla.

My Hummous joke was about Hamas. The joke is that Hamas sounds like Hummous. Ha-ha. The joke is also that the state of Israel is in a perpetual war with the Palestinian people. Blah blah blah blangh flong frock chrongo smongo flambo tangoe fado splaydo mado pee wee hummous fwah-ha-haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!(?)

Beat the pavement with your clenched fist.

There are no rules to my game. Or maybe I'm the game, and the instructions have been lost. Or never given to me.

Who isn't disturbed by what isn't real.

There are actually 73 states in the United States of America. I will start naming them. Woloma. Yirpongia. Wilkins. Pendletent. Cran. Mulberry. Frent. The glorious state of Podio.

Strange fish...

I don't know why I have this.

Why do I have CANTON FUNG MEI FISH????

NEW YORK IS AN OBSTACLE OR MY REASON FOR LIVING???

CAUGHT MY FISH ON THE PEARL RIVER BRIDGE. IN A CAN.

I'M A PROFESSIONAL. I'M A PROFESSIONAL. I'M AN AMATEUR.

The Curse of Kinski

Well, the man appears to be alive:



I can't find any other news.

Somebody in the mainstream media without their upper parts lodged in the central orifice of their nether parts

Review of best movies of 2005.

What the fuck?? Herzog shot--appears okay.

Jesus Christ! I'll see if I can get more info!!

Herzog Shot During Interview

By WENN|Friday, February 03, 2006

HOLLYWOOD - German director Werner Herzog was shot by a crazed fan during a recent interview with the BBC.
The 63-year-old was chatting with movie journalist Mark Kermode about his documentary Grizzly Man, when a sniper opened fire with an air rifle.

Kermode explains, "I thought a firecracker had gone off.

"Herzog, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, said, 'Oh, someone is shooting at us. We must go.'

"He had a bruise the size of a snooker ball, with a hole in. He just carried on with the interview while bleeding quietly in his boxer shorts."

An unrepentant Herzog insisted, "It was not a significant bullet. I am not afraid."

The Kids are All Right

Obama stares down that the holy McCain. This is refreshing.

I made a New Years Resolution this year to stop spewing bullshit. This had stemmed from a culminating argument with my Uncle Lance--I was calling him a fascist for reading The Wall Street Journal. Lance's is no fascist. He's a mellow, silly So-Cal graphic artist for the SanFran Chronicle, keeping an eye on economic prospects--he's supporting his 91 year old mother and a son. I was just name-calling. I was being an asshole. (Asshole-ness is a genetic trend that can be traced from both sides of my family.) Anyhow, I was generalizing to the detriment of my own credibility. So no more calling people fascists. McCain is not a fascist in my new view of the world, but I still think he's megalomaniacal fuck. Rock on, Obama.

Exit Sandman: Dan Jackson and Dronal Dissipation FEB 25th

Attention: ====if you already recieved this, forgive the redundandancy, here it is again, my apologies!======

This shit is rough. I've got Some Kind of Monster, and I got to smooth it out:

Dan Jackson is heading out of town. The only official and authentic Dan Jackson goodbye party is on Saturday, February 25th.

Sad But True, he's not sure if he's ever coming back to New York. It may be that he'll be back in a few months. In that case, how annoyingly dramatic all this is. But it seems that he might be going for good. Whatever the case. He wants one more chance for the cops (Those Harvesters of Sorrows) to bust him for disturbing the neighbors.

The party shall be invocated by a DRONE EVENT. Anybody and everybody is invited to contribute to the DRONE EVENT. If you have a musical instrument, please bring it or them. If not, we will try to provide you with one. The DRONE EVENT is a non-denominational, communal sound-creation. The only requirement is that you do not play too many notes; no Kirk Hammett wankery. It is a spiritual sort of drone. Think of Arvo Part, depressing Canadian bands, or the beginning of Nothing Else Matters, Blackened, or For Whom the Bell Tolls (the song, not the book.) Extra points if you bring a harmonium, didjeradoo, theremin, bagpipes, or other hard to find instruments. Kazoos, slide-whistles, bongas, congas, hippie drums, rain sticks, hand cymbals, sleigh bells, lap tops with neato softsynths and glitchy plugins, turntables, projection units, sinewave generators, local crazies who mutter compelling nonsense. It's all good. No matter your musical background or lack thereof, you can easily contribute to the DRONE EVENT. Or, you can just sit there and bask in it until you feel like you can enter the fray. (Whatever musical-inferiority complexes you may have--just Kill Em All.) Email Danitarium 4 specifics. The DRONE EVENT (The Thing that Should Not Be) will be recorded in various formats.

Details:
Battery: Saturday, February 25th. 7-7:30pm Dan's apartment in Queens: Set-up of Drone. Commencement of Drone. Feel free to show up earlier for pre drone vibe session.

Damage Incorporated: Hit the Lights! 9pm/10pm drinking and bullshitting until the Leper Messiah shows up. Maybe we'll go up on the roof and sing out against the cold sky. Maybe Orion will sing back.

No need to RSVP, but would be appreciated, especially to get a sense of the inventory of musical instruments and players for the DRONE EVENT.

Location:
22-37 35th St
Astoria, NY 11105

Take the N/W train to Ditmars Blvd. Walk north to Ditmars Blvd, hang a right, walk a few blocks to 35th street. I'm in the middle of the block on the left. Ring the upper buzzer.
914-843-2272

This is it folks. I really mean it. Come and see me. I don't want to leave town. But the clouds have darkened and all I can do is Ride the Lightning. One can't defy the Master of Puppets. Invite your friends. Spread the word, you will not remain Unforgiven if you don't show: Take note that I will also be appearing at the Rad Unicorn and John Carpenter show on the 26th at Sin-E, 9pm, I believe. That will be a great show. So if you can't come to the Dronal Dissipation, come then and buy me a coke.

Hee-yah!

Oscar Speech Karma

Phoenix first better thank Herzog for pulling his sorry ass out the wreck. And then the Academy should apologize for being shits for not even nominating one of Herzog's excellent documentaries.

The many varieties of Hummous

Complex, spicy, creamy, chunky--just not sure what to make of it all. Via Thirteen ways of looking at a SpEro.

They write letters about Hummous

Well, nobody actually has written a letter. But I get the sense. I've been blogging for over a year now and I'm just getting this "vibe." People are little uncomfortable about my stance on hummous. Look. You may have had your reservations about Hummous in the past. All I'm saying is give it at least a chance. If you're reading this, this may or may not pertain to you, but then it again, it may. Think about what you've thought about Hummous in the past. But get over it. The dynamic is changed. And now that Hummous is the official mandated authority (76 seats out of 132), maybe you should it give it another dip.