hell fuckin' yeah

Just give me Zurich. I won't complain.

Reminds me of cookies, har-har-har

Proust observation by Tom Tomorrow.


No offense, Tom, but who doesn't like being reminded by cookies? I like cookies. They like me. No cookie ever stood me up.

The war on Chanukah

Somebody has been circulating this around the internet. It's supposed to be cute. But I think it goes too far. Judge for yourself:

There are many misconceptions about the differences between Christmas and Chanukah. This should clear them up!


1. Christmas is one day, same day, every year: December 25th. Jews also love December 25th. It's another paid day off work. We go to the movies and eat babies.

2. Chanukah is eight days. It starts the evening of the 24th of Kislev, whenever that is. No one is ever sure. Jews never know until a non-Jew asks when Chanukah starts, forcing us to consult a calendar so we don't look like idiots. We all have the same calendar, provided free with a donation from the Elders of Zion, the kosher butcher, or the local Jewish funeral home.

3. Christmas is a major holiday. Chanukah is a minor holiday with the same theme as most Jewish holidays. They tried to kill us. We survived. Let's eat their children and sharpen our horns

4. Christians get wonderful presents such as jewelry, perfume, stereos. Jews sell them.

5. There is only one way to spell Christmas. It includes the word Christ, who was some Jewish guy, and the word mas, which is not a word. Well...I guess it could stand for MASS. (For the Jews out there, these aren't religious terms. They're holiday terms. (And the fact that holiday includes the word holi has nothing to do with holy. Stop making connections that aren't there, asshole!)) No one can decide how to spell Chanukah, Chanukkah, Chanukka, Channukah, Hanukah, Hannukah, etc.

6. Christmas is at time of great pressure for husbands and boyfriends. Their partners expect special gifts. Jewish men are relieved of that burden. No one expects a diamond ring on Chanukah. Especially from a Jew.

7. Christmas brings enormous electric bills. Candles are used for Chanukah. Not only are we spared enormous electric bills, but we get to feel good about not contributing to the energy crisis. It harder to see how ugly we are to one another. We take off our skin at night. Freud was such a pervert because all Jews are sexual deviants. Plus why the hell do you think we have such a powerful Israeli lobbying force in Washington? For religious freedom? Fuck no, Jerk! Oil for our Chanukah candles!

8. Christmas carols are beautiful? Silent Night, Come All Ye Faithful. Chanukah songs are stupid. They are demeaning. They are about stupid dreidels made from stupid clay or having a stupid party and dancing the stupid horah or whatever the fuck it’s called... Of course, we are secretly pleased that many of the beautiful carols were composed and written by Jews. And don't Barbara Streisand and Neil Diamond sing them beautifully? No. Your religion is more evil than ours.

9. A home preparing for Christmas smells wonderful. The sweet smell of cookies and cakes baking. Happy people gather around in festive moods. A home preparing for Chanukah smells of oil, potatoes, and onions. The home, as always, is full of loud people all talking at once. That's because we are selfish, rude, filthy and paranoid.

10. Women have fun baking Christmas cookies. Jewish women burn their eyes and cut their hands grating potatoes and onions for latkes. Sadomasochistic sex was invented by Jewish women to take their minds off the holidays.

11. Parents deliver to their children on Christmas. Jewish parents have no qualms about withholding a gift on any of the eight nights because Jews are stingy. Filth.

12. The players in the Christmas story have easy to pronounce names such as Mary, Joseph, and Jesus. The players in the Chanukah story are Antiochus, Judah Maccabee, and Matta whatever. No one can spell it or pronounce it. On the plus side, we can tell our gentile friends anything and they believe we are wonderfully versed in our history. When in truth we perpetuate nothing but paranoia.

13. Many Christians believe in the virgin birth. Jews think "Joseph, Bubela, snap out of it. Your woman is pregnant, you didn't sleep with her, and now you want to blame God. Here, eat a Palestinian baby."

Finally. We can find out who killed Bambi.

Ladies and Gentleman. I bring you Earth. Googlized.

Zombie Metaphors

I'm looking forward to this. Very much so. Who knew. Maybe Zombie movies are the most important works of art of our time. Romero's original Dawn of the Dead the Don Giovanni of our times.

Could be. You can't deny the possibility.

Frank Zappa can kiss my ass. (Now THAT would be a scary movie. Return of the Living Dead Prog-Rockers. Yipes. I'm gonna have nightmares tonight.)

Screenwriting tips for aspirant screenwriters

DO NOT WRITE THESE LINES FOR A MOVIE CALLED THE COOLER:

young harvard grad talks to the aging, tough, vaguely Brooklynesque casino owner:

NOSTALGIA IS GREAT. BUT NOSTALGIA BELONGS IN A MUSEUM. I THINK IT COMES TIME TO DECIDE WHETHER YOU ARE RUNNING A MUSEUM OR (pauses just so for a portentous effect) YOU'RE RUNNING A CASINO.

nice use of repetition, guys. the writers are Frank Hannah & Wayne Kramer.

DO WRITE THESE LINES FOR A MOVIE CALLED ANNIE HALL STARRING WOODY ALLEN AND DIANE KEATON:

woody allen character to diane keaton character after sex:

AS BALZAC SAID, THERE GOES ANOTHER NOVEL.

MUSICLINKYTHING-0

Hey, I added a link to the right to my mspace music page. Let me know what you think. You should click on my friend's pages too. Rad Unicorn and John Carpenter got some cool stuff up on there.

How I simultaneously cover my ass and don't

I believe that the only true meaning to be found is within paradox.

That's my intro statement for a post-script on all the sci-fi fascism b.s. I've been spewing. First off, if I am a writer, I am also a writer of sci-fi. I don't read much sf anymore because I just can't. But my first novel, which I will put up in blog form in the near future, is unabashedly sci-fi. The current novel I'm working on is not sci-fi, but it has fantastical elements. My next book I want to write will probably be SF.

Ergo, sum, ipso facto, Dan Jackson is a fascist. QED.

But it's so pretty!

Pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty!

All frum cursor.org (Curses!)

I should go outside and die now. I mean play!

Pretty pretty pretty pretty pretty!

Catch it on your tongue! !

Depeche Fascism

I'm quick to call everybody fascists maybe because there is no word in the world for what's going on. I'd call them crazy, but that would be an insult to the truly insane.

Fighting the Sci-Fi Fascist from within

This man might be our only hope. Don't know anything about him. But he's on the side of good. Not on the side of bad.

I might have to take a look again at SF. Even though most of its readers and writers are fascists. As I have elucidated to my readers in depth and with many concrete examples and with laser-specificity in the past.

Calling Peter Jackson: Werner Herzog's Worst Nightmare

Transcription, director's commentary, Signs of Life:

Norman Hill: Why this interest in chickens? They are in several of your films...

Werner Herzog: They are very frightening for me because their stupidity is so flat. When you look into the eyes of a chicken you lose yourself in a completely flat, frightening stupidity. They are a great metaphor...for me..for I don't what it is. They reappear in several of my films. Even Dwarves Started Small. Cannibalistic chicken. One-legged chicken. A rooster being hypnotized and on and on and on.

NH: (Laughs.) And the famous dancing chicken in Stroszek.

WH: (Laughs.) Right. That is some of the best I've ever filmed. So I don't know. I kind of love chicken but they frighten me more than any other animal I know.

(Poster ripped from eightyford.com.)

A portrait of happy times

Congrats again, cuties!


And it was great to meet the other Andrew Jackson too! (Hope you guys don't mind me posting your likenessess. The FBI probably reads my site. Please contact me if you want them taken down.)

Look at them commie cuties!

Wedding Blings

The only commentary that is possibly relevant to this, (via an atrios link) can be provided by lyrics from an early nineties band of genius:

hey
been trying to meet you
hey
must be a devil between us
or whores in my head
whores at my door
whores in my bed
but hey
where
have you
been if you go i will surely die
we're chained

uh said the man to the lady
uh said the lady to the man she adored
and the whores like a choir
go uh all night
and mary ain't you tired of this
uh
is
the
sound
that the mother makes when the baby breaks
we're chained

Goodnight, Moon

Bad astronomy makes for good TV-News.

But WHAT is science? Really? What is REALLY HARD science? Or SHOULD I say WTF is science anyways?

Isn't it just another method--another self-justification--for the power elite to maintain its status quo throttle on the neck of the proletariate?

I think the moon landing was faked because there is no moon. It's a waxin' wanin' blindspot in everyone's brain drilled in by the orbital mind control laser(?)

More notes...
Try and go see Werner Herzog's Signs of Life. It is his first feature and I've watched it about four times in the last week and I get more out of it in every viewing. If it means going around in circles, so be it.

I read Whatever by Houllebecq and it was very good; though if Houllebecq has feminist theory in his soul he did not apply an ounce of it. But the character pretty much hates everybody, mostly his own self. So, it's all good.

Congrats to my brother and his lovely new wife. I wish the very best for them. And when I say the best, I mean the best. PJ O'Clarke's best. None of that McDonalds' shit.

Be thankful for TV

And flying spaghetti monsters.

You cannot write anything that will even come close to having someone who believes in the Capitalist form of government to agree with you.

A(greed)!

Via Tommy Tomorrowy.

Crab

Thanks to Esther and everybody else at the seafood department.

Progeny Post

My brother waxes philosophic about his breeding experiment...

Fascism counterbalanced by public domain Rock N' Roll Lyrics

Amelia found this for me:
[Turns out I'm not the only one who thinks everyone is a fascist (though I'm beginning to think that I'm a fascist about calling people fascist and I'm trying to do something about it.)]

"The strategic adversary is fascism... the fascism in us all, in our heads and in our everyday behavior, the fascism that causes us to love power, to desire the very thing that dominates and exploits us." - Michel Foucault

Also:

Here are some lyrics Amelia's fiance wrote. I don't have time to write a song, so they are public domain rock lyrics:

Rock Rock Rock 'N' Roll
All day
All night
I'm gonna rock with you
We're gonna rock
Hell yeah!
We're gonna Rock
I'm gonna come over tonight
And baby we're gonna
Rock tonight!
Rock tonight!
Rocking Baby,
let's Rock!

Drew Jackson

Ahhhh...the internet

Fah-fah-fah-fah-fah...http://www.stupid.com/stat/POOC.html

Out of respect for my readers I won't directly link to it.

Fah-Fah-Fah

McCan you say fah-fah-fah-fah-fah-fah-fah-fah-fah-fah-fah-fah-psychokiller.

Fah-fah-fah fah-fah-fa-fah-fah-fah-fah riveting! Fah fah-fahfahfah fah fah!

Fish, Struttin's, Pants

John McCain: Kinder, Gentler Fascist

For all you Utopian delusionals...


MENDOZA!!!!



Goin' to Denver for my Brother's Wedding.

I'll have dial-up. So the wit won't fly so fast. But just as furious. Or angry. And sloppy. Patented. Phreaky.

UPDATE!

That was a little too incoherent:

1st point: McCain: Yeah yeah okay...let's kill kill kill brown people...sure...but TORTURE?? Come on man-huh-...that shit hurts like a motherfucker. LET'S BE REASONABLE HERE! I'M A REASONABLE MAN! KILL! DON'T MAIM. HAVE I SAID THIS YET? THAT TORTURE SHIT HURTS! LIKE A FUCKING MOTHERFUCKER!

The Link I tried to Link to before...does it exist? It does. Here it is:

his is an especially useful resource if you wanted to, let’s say, contact the Arizona Daily Star and tell them that John McCain is a fraud whose “toughness” only comes out when it’s politically safe to do so or The Greenville News to tell the people of South Carolina that their Senator wants to destroy some of our most basic rights as Americans.

Ha ho ho hee hee, that's the same link. But I was underscoring what I was attempting to underscore with this second attempt.

2nd Bonus MEAT GRINDER. MMM! Patrioty!

I don't know about This Modern World "losing its edge." I think Tom Tomorrow is the most intelligent of the political cartoonists. His schtick is not the most original. His most endearing character is a penguin from the future (Garfield anyone? I mean, Bloom County or whatever.) But he has a knack for summing up the shitty state of affairs.

But I want to start making a campaign in the vein of Billionaires for Bush. Fascists for McCain. The man is a maniac. It's a shame that Rove "smeared" him the way he did. But that's what he gets for being a motherfucking Republican.

Star Wars...

Had some conversations about Good Taste this week. Big Argument with Seaslug. Can't go into it right now. I think good taste has a connection with Fascism. Just like Science Fiction. I can't go into it right now. But let's talk about George Lucas versus Kurt Cobain. Cobain had the good taste to kill himself before he made a terrible album. Mr. Lucas on the other hand, why couldn't he have killed himself after ROTJ? It's a damn shame. He'd be enshrined forever for his genius.

I hate all the movies coming out now and I don't want to hear about them. But I love my iPod. I'm looking forward to sitting down to watching Signs of Life.

There are many things to be excited about. But if John McCain becomes president we're fucked. He wants to send more troops to fucking Iraq. Good morning Vietnam! Klaus Kinski should have played Robin Williams part in that movie. Jesus Christ I'm angry. But content.

That's enough for now. This is seeming pointless.

Okay...

If somebody doesn't explain this to me I'm going to have to join the Israeli army.



Update: Ohh...duh. Sorry Israel. It's going to take more than that for me to become a born again Jew.

His whole life has been merely the preparation for this moment

Our whole lives. At the sound of the tone the time is, the time for Rick.

Oi!

Get yer arse back into the pub, ye ain't drunk yet!

(That's my best British accent, sounds like a pirate, I know.)

Also, secret police in Jordan. Or something. Somebody explain this to me.

Also, Seaslug, is this your man?


He wasn't sayin' what you were saying to me. Science and all.

This is why I'm scared of non-scientists talking about science.

(Even though scientists can be just as scary.)

Ultracore is mushy to the core

Well, we gave it our best.

Doors opened at 2pm at Astorian House of Herzog. I watched Naked Lunch. I started watching Naked Lunch around 3pm. Guests started arriving around 6pm; we watched Buster Keaton: Our Hospitality. Sherlock Jr. They were both quite good. More guests arrived. Tony was kind enough to bring a projector. We watched Space is the Place, blown up big on the wall. We had a Looney Tunes break around Midnight and then the make or breaker La Dolce Vita. Midway through most everyone except Su, Er, and Seaslug left. We pushed on. We had omelets made by Er. After that we watched Take the Money and Run. And then A Better Tomorrow. It gets blurry from beyond here. I think Su and 'Ro left because they couldn't afford to throw all of their weekend away in the name of cinema. We still had the projector. Seaslug and myself watched Svankmejer shorts and then started Mishima. It was around 10 in the morning around this time. We were into it but because of circumstances beyond his control Seaslug had to go home. I gave Seaslug a citation for depth of reverance and that was it. I couldn't watch movies by myself. I did a little cleaning and then I passed out in my room. I got up around noon when Tony stopped by to pick up his projector. And Dave stopped by, but I couldn't stay up. Jason stopped by later, he had wanted to watch Killing of A Chinese Bookie but they left me sleeping. I got up around 8pm this evening. I got some Chinese-Mexican food and watched The God of Gamblers. My ballroom dancing roommate and his partner/girlfriend were very excited because they won a college-level ballroom dancing competition in Boston even though they aren't in college. Though they were in Boston. They're not in Boston right now. As of now. Also, as of now, I'm writing on my blog now.

It was a pretty intense experience. It sort of messes with your mind. For me, La Dolce Vita was the perfect midnight movie. It definitely wasn't everyone's cup of tea. But tea wasn't the point of the Ultracore. I became tired after it and I just wanted to please everybody. So I put on movies that I thought would keep people there. That was a mistake (I was going against my instincts; I was losing what I thought what was my "self." In that way the experience was interesting. But the influence of the disposable entertainment on our brains was more taxing--I believe--in the long run. La Dolce Vita gave me strength because I think it is--however flawed--a monumental work of art--as opposed to A Better Tomorrow and Take the Money and Run. The latter two felt like propaganda or something.) I should have put on early Kurosawa instead of early Woody Allen. If I do it again we will watch all very serious movies except for the Looney Tunes and Buster Keaton. And maybe some Charlie Chaplin. But Buster Keaton really kicks the ass out of ol' Chaplin. BK pretty much kicks the ass out of everything else.

I feel altered. Totally drained.

I could probably start a cult this way. I would have to power nap between the movies so that my strength would outlast everyone else. Then I'd have people read scripts and roleplay in their total sleep-deprived states. Among the ones that would last would be the strong ones. Among the strong ones I'd sort those would remain subservient to me; and I'd eliminate those that always been potentially dangerous to my purposes. The Ultracore would loosen all the harbored resentments and I sieve out my true enemies amongst my true friends. Slowly I'd create a network of servants, sworn by blood to protect me. The core of my revolution.

The only problem is that I have lost my faith in the idea of a violent overthrow of the power elite.

It is strange because the movies started blurring all together. The rules of one movie seemed to bleed into the rules of the other. After watching all sorts of weapons pulled out by Looney Tunes characters and blasting each other in faces and such I expected similar situations to arise in La Dolce Vita. And then of course, weapons started ablazing in A Better Tomorrow. We all noted certain themes, some of them disturbing, such as the level of domestic and criminal violence commited against stereotypically "helpless" women. It got to be quite unsettling. But it was illuminative of how desensitives we are, and also how often the abuse the portrayal of abuse against women in used in a variety of situations in film in a way to illustrate a variety of points. Sometimes incisive, sometimes exploitative; a little of both in other cases.

The God of Gamblers has some nice balance to the issue of violence, though not necessarily with regard to violence against women. But it does seem to try to make a point that violence is not necessarily the best conflict resolution tool in every case. But then there are extended scenes of senseless gun violence that kind of detract from this line of argument that they develope.

Struwwel Peter, we meet again

Here's the original, online.

(Obvious. Yah(!))

But I bet you didn't know there was a Mark Twain version. (I've been meaning to read more Twain, particularly the dark, later stuff. Anyone have any suggestions, eh?)

Sleeplessness

I'm so excited about ULTRACORE 2005 that I can't sleep. Ut-oh...

There's no sleeping at ultracore, at least for the Designated Stewards!

No sleep.

But I must sleep.

No sleep.

But I must. I must!

Merry Chris(fascis)tmas!

I'd like to say.

The beautiful raga

It's a beautiful raga but it's a beautiful raga you can only hear once.

Why can you hear it only once?

I don't know.

It's going to be a long winter

I've got a surplus of soda water.

If you can decipher the following I will hand deliver you eight truckloads of gravitons and a vat of soda water, pending availability:

Summit. Tree. Swastika. Morning after the roses rules.
Dali is not a Salivdor Lama--
These things I know NOT to be NOT correct:
Cheerleader pants and sunglass dreams underneath a jackolantern hung
aloft
verify.

Best interpretation gets the water, man-o.

(That'll stick Stan, that'll stick.)

If Everyone Lived Like You We Would Need Five and Half Planets

From West Coast Jacksonian Head - Office

Check this out:


and for a conversion table reference:


My freaking footprint is 7.9 hectares = 19.52 acres. Time to stop
driving, riding in jet planes, and eating animals with eyeballs.

The great thing about being me

Is that I know I don't have the answer but I can always show you how you're wrong.

The Power Elite

Big surprise, the French are a bunch of fucks too.

My story

They seemed to fix all the mistakes. Thanks to Ralph and Litchaos.

ULTRACORE

November 12th I'm holding an ULTRACORE movie marathon event at my house. If you are interested and haven't recieved an email, well, email me at solardriftwood@gmail.com--

That's my new email, btw.

I am ordering internet service for the home, but in the meantime, I'm not getting any signals so posts will be infreakwent.

There's nothing more hardcore than an ultramore. I mean ultracore.

Forget the room and the windows--what about the door? I'm sore.

Boredom

Seaslug man says it would be very Murakami of me to say that the only reason I write is because I'm just plain bored. The only other option is pinching my tits. To be honest, I do both. Sometimes one more than the other (not left versus right, but tits versus writing). That's just how I am.

Tonight I'm going to see the Passenger at the Sunshine on Houston, 7:30, be there or be rare.

It's gonna be a cold winter

I've got a surplus of whale blubber.

If you can decipher the following I will hand deliver you eight spoonfuls of sugar and a crate of whale blubber, pending availability:

Summit. Tree. Swastika. Morning after the roses rules.
Dali is not a Salivdor Lama--
These things I know NOT to be correct:
Cheerleader pants and sunglass dreams underneath a jackolantern hung
aloft
verily.

Best interpretation gets the blubber, man.

(That'll do pig, that'll do.)