slplowsting

emporary I ate us.

ust or oment


o nternet t ome ight ow


orry!

Funnies

I always love the super-pak. This is the best one yet, probably.

Plus, avery fascism for $995.

Not to worry

Men. Our obsolence. Could happen.

OJ sounds like a nice name. Ohhhh-jayyyyyyyyyy

The real etc.


(Hint to GW: GOD is the new Osama/Saddam.)

Vegus Dada Tangerine-bless Cursor.org and Greg Palast

Must 2b read.

Plus: Hurricane Tetsuo update:

A&S World Travelling Correspondant Reports From The Eye of the Storm!

HEY DAN,
In case you are bored you can check out how I am doing...As you can see one big ass Typhoon with an eye only a mother could love is heading straight on towards my village in south western Ehime. I will not make light of the situation because last year we were hit with 8 and families lost their homes and thier were mud slides (here and in other villages --we didn't get the mudslides, thank goodness --I live at the bottom of the mountains.) But over the last year I have fallen in love with this state of the art technology. As part of the Angry and Sloopy community I thought I would share with you Typhoon number 13 (they don't give them names here.) who looks to be as mean and nasty as the blog you wrote last month when you arrived home drunk after winning 3 fights and losing all your money at the Yonkers race track--as well as your innocence........you can up date it and refresh it and give it a name if you like. But check out the eye of this storm. It's huge....I have never seen anything like it....K
Gambatte!!!!

http://www.jma.go.jp/en/gms/index.html?area=0&element=0

Peace in the Middle-East

One possible route: falafal.

Nip the buds

Shoot the kids.

Look dude, uh

First of all, keep in mind, these are AMERICAN deaths. Via Cursor. (The Corner is a rightwing supersite, just in case you didn't know.) These aren't some rattly-tattly backwater, wushy-gushy types in some godforesaken sewage, nuclear fallout radioactive zone. These are honest-to-god folks; hardworking; plainspeaking; McDonald's eating Walmart shopping, er, folks.

Secondly, because Katrina was an act of G-d, or chaos, and therefore unpredictable, Bush's blundering of the aftermath is his own damn fault.

But in the case of 9-11, wherewith the president in question and/or his staff had been forewarned with regards to terrorist attacks, including those involving planes smashing into buildings, he is not at fault, and therefore is entitled to do whatever he wants.

This includes making up data to engage into warfare with whatever country he and his backers wish to do so with. And when he makes a blunder of these self-indulgences and further indangers his own country with said self-indulgences then we must keep in mind that he is not accountable and not responsible and there is no need for any explanation for his actions. Ipso facto, ergo, ie..Afghanistan, Iraqistan, Pakistan, Iranistan--been there done that...NEXT!













It's good that we have a balance in this country. That we liberals and conservatives keep each other in check. It is unfortunate that it took a tragic Hurricane to illuminated the whole matter for me. I don't know about you. (Lord knows GW has, forthcoming, a bit of hard work.)

Stay the course

How can our government blame our own citizens for staying the course--when staying the course has been the whole argument about keeping our troops in Iraq. The real heroes are the ones who stayed. These colors don't run. (via atrios) Fucking-ass hypocrites.

I've been re-watching The Office. It's a lot less funny the second time around. Maybe it's because I work in an office now. But I'm basically realizing that the genius of it is that it's a tragicomedy. Which is funny, because tragicomedy is a funny word. It's such a flipping great show. It's not as good as Cassavettes. But it is pretty damn great.

It's one of those things. The super-cyber hacker I know and her fiance play sad songs; they played a great new song about a birdfeeder and a guy who shoots at the birds and we all laughed at it. Afterwards she explained to me, bitterly perplexed, it's not a funny song!

That's comedy. We laugh at it because it isn't funny.

Angry and Sloppy's World Travelling Correspondent

Correspondent K-man X has dropped me a note. I thought I'd share it with the internet community. The drummer he is referring to is a guy named Ali the Juma. Also known as Juma Sutan. He's a percussionist who specializes in African Percussion (he studied in Senegal.) Back in the sixties he played with everybody, Coltrane, Sun Ra, Ornette Coleman, but mostly with Archie Shepp, I believe. Anyhow, Ali is the computer tech person in my office. He set up the network in our office, and he troubleshoots things when they go wrong. But I always ask him about the old days. And, oh yes, the connection between Ali/Juma and K-man X is as follows: Ali/Juma played with Barry Altshcul, a genius avant-garde drummer (the first white man to play on blue note, apparently) and K-man X took some drum lessons from Barry back in our MFA days at Sarah Lawrence. The official reporter/corresponder of Angry and Sloppy, K-man X, has been doing some research on Kinski, Juma and the Japanese coast, so I'd thought I share. I fixed some of the spelling errors, except Speilberg, just to emphasize that although K-man X is not a very angry person, he is sloppy. And his travels on foot would be approved of by A&S patron saint Herzog...

Hi Dan,
I loved that Kinski page. I have been listening to alot of Sam Rivers
and have been pretty bored so I have been researching, on the net of
course, his history...check out this quote....

August, 1969 ?
Woodstock, NY
Jeff Evangelista, Jimi Hendrix researcher/archivist, correspondence
02.04.18 and 02.05.26:
"Sam has mentioned in interviews that Alan Douglas set up a jam with
him and Jimi at the Woodstock retreat house (Jimi's rented house), and
they had a play. Your session dates helped tremendously because I think
I have narrowed the time-frame down to August 1969. From your notes, it
looks like Sam was in Europe (Poland etc.) for most of the autumn of
1969. And he played in France with Cecil Taylor in late July. Jimi [was
in] Morocco... July 30 through Aug, ...and was at the retreat for most
of August. Of course Woodstock was held Aug 18.

...Anything that might rule out this time-frame? Do you know anything
more about this supposed jam between the two musicians? ...We do have
quite a bit of tapes from this "Woodstock rehearsal" period, but
nothing I can identify with Sam. Jimi was definitely experimenting with
playing with Free Jazz'ers at this time though, as we can hear from the
house tapes and tapes recorded at the Tinker Street Cinema with Earl
Cross on trumpet......"


Was this the gig where your man Puma and Barry played with
Jimi....SHIT...was SAM Rivers there, too. I had no idea that JImi was
definitely eprimenting playing free jazz...I guess I thought that Barry
was rocking out with Foxy LAdy and shit like that!! Guess I was
wrong...dammm.....I wonder what those tapes, if they exist sound
like......this site is kind of crazy... too much info at times and too
little when you want it---but if your bored and if your fans are into
Sam you can post this or just play around with it....there are some
good reviews that are interesting. If anything this is a great snippet
of Jazz history which isn't talked about much....these fans are
dedicated....

http://www.velocity.net/~bb10k/RIVERS.disc.html#75.06.05

sorry about the bold italics...don't know what happened or how to
change it. I found out through various sites that Speilberg didn't
offer Kinski enough money!!! A poor excuse though. But his quotes of
Speilberg are surprisingly polite calling him one of America's greatest
directors. I guess he was hoping for a role in one of the sequels!!!

Hope you are well. Thanks for the offer of books. I would love just
one book if you want to send it....something that would change my
perspective of life, n'shit... I am spending most of time studying
though and feel as though I am through with fiction!! Don't know why.
The last book I read was Blindness by Saramago which I thought was
amazing, and considering what's going on along the Gulf Coast-- I dare
say prophetic... But I also keep next to my bed the Secrect
Sharer...MAN, I can read that over and over and over again and never
get bored....besides that I have been reading some meditation books! I
feel as though I am about to enter a great period of silence, if I
havn't already!! Country living you know; nothing but nature. Every day
last week, since I have been let out of work at noon (classes begn
tomorrow) I went snorkling. The coral reefs here lure some amazing
fish. Some are ugly in that nightmare kind of way while others are
bright yellow and blue. The Jelly fish make it seem as if I'm floating
in a galaxy made of dead stars. But the suckers sting! I have also
taken on an alter ego called Cat Man. After snorkling I go home and nap
for 30 minutes and then go back out and jump the rocky coast line from
rock to rock for about 45 minutes until I reach a magical rock that is
about 10 feet high and lurches over the sea. I walk to it's top and
look out feeling the wind. Then I'll just sit for about 15 minutes and
put those Buddhist books of mine to good use! Afterwards I make the
jump back home. I feel like Jackie Chan. I had to conquor the rocks.
When I first came accross this part of the coast I thougt it was
impossible to explore it because of all the boulders then I decided to
take it on like a challenge. I found a beach that no one goes to (about
10 minutes from the magical rock-buit I have to scale a giant boulder
to get there) and there is one more virgin bech that I found but is
impossible to get to. I have to scale more giant boulders just to see
it but it's to steep to climb down the other side. It's beautifully
isolated and all the better if humans can't get to it. There are still
someplaces on Earth where we can't get to--or don't belong. And the
site of such places makes this whole chapter of mine worth
living....sometimes!!

Hope you are well. Love and blessings, K

We all miss the K-man. Anyone have any suggestions with regarding to what book or books we might send him?

Sphinx

This Name Calling Liberal

I'm sloppy. I'm a name caller. Call myself an Iceberg. Got this link via Atrios.

"Pass the Chardonney; the science today, my dear boy, has become so complex that it's becoming harder and harder to track all of the causes of the inherent inferiority of Black people! It's a wonder we even bother..."

Well, listen to me. You want name calling, let's invoke the greatest name caller in recent history! For you rational, reasoned Conservative Bell Curve types, you're Herzog to my Kinski:

"Now I absolutely despise the murderer Herzog. I tell him to his face that I want to see him perish like the llama he executed. He should be thrown to the crocodiles alive! An anaconda should throttle him slowly! The sting of a deadly spider should paralyze him! His brain should burst from the bite of the most poisonous of all snakes! Panthers shouldn't slit his throat open with their claws, that would be too good for him! No. Big red ants should piss in his eyes, eat his balls, penetrate his asshole, and eat his guts! He should get the plague! Syphilis! Malaria! Yellow fever! Leprosy! In vain. The more I wish the most horrible of deaths on him and treat him like the scum of the earth that he is, the less I can get rid of him!"

One last slop

I'm reading Gould's Book of Fish; it's really good. But I just received a bunch of books I ordered for myself as an early birthday present--mostly Thomas Bernhard. One of them is a book of 101 very short pieces of fiction. They are very weird. Bernhard usually writes pretty short books, but they are usually one long paragraph that doesn't end until you get to the last page. They're sitting there, all intriguing me and such, and I'm totally torn. How to mete out the last dregs of my working-life weekend. And it'll end that I read just a few pages of each and then conk-out.

Never forget.

I'm blogging too much. Life. I need more life! Less blog!

Iceberg

Had an interesting night last night. Hung out with some folks I know from Sarah Lawrence College; first at a reading in the city and then at a beautiful apartment on the upper east side. (The apartment has two balconies.) Politically they are quite distinct from the usual crowd I hang around. But that isn't the issue. (It was a beautiful night , the weather perfect, clumps of clouds hurtling over us; squares of light blinking on off in diverse array of apartment buildings we were clustered amid.)

So, the other day I started talking about racial epithets. I started making up words, like matrikames, for those of Irish-German descent, and Planker, for those like me, of Finnish-Jewish lineage. And the both times I did this spiel for people, they took me seriously--because sometimes I have a great deadpan delivery and can fool people.

Anyhow, I could go a hundred different ways with this blog post, but the point of this one is that in the second time I did this deadpan delivery of obscure racial epithets (which I make up as I go along) the upper-eastsiders helped me out. And they (he of the he/she couple) came up with a GREAT epithet for Jew-finns. Icebergs. So I'm an iceberg.

I won't go into the politics, and how easy it was for these particular individuals to generate racial epithets. Let's just say it was a very lovely evening in the city. We talked quite a bit about british comedies and episcopalians. There is always something to learn from anyone. Be them Plankers (Lutheran Finns with Marxist tendencies converted to Judaism), Hulskovies (Russo-Japanese/Chinese Hawaiians), Glug-glugs (Australians who move to Canada) or bonafide Icebergs.

Optical Illusions

Atrios linked to this. There's some wild stuff under the 57 optical illusions. But the purple dot one will drive you in mesmerical circles.

Beautiful Bugs

A feast for your eyes.

I particularly recommend the centipede section. (So to speak.)

I love google

I love it! I love it! I love it! I love it! I couldn't do my job at work with out it! And I love to work! Love it! Love it! Love

it

!

Outsourcing fascism

Hey. You get what you pay for.

Sync or swim

A dictator with his priorities straight.

Quoth Mr. Bush.

"And I guess you couldn't ask for a better way of life than giving it for something you believe in."

--cursor

Reality

What do I know from Reality.

I don't know.

I said I'd talk about it.

I don't really get drunk like I used to. Because then I'd talk reality for you.

Real versus dream. Dream versus dream. Dream versus real.

It goes on. We default on things. Maybe that's why Werner has so many circular images in his movies. Not because life is circular. But because we can't do anything but either go in circles or be mesmerized by them.

This talk isn't over yet.

RIP

Bob Moog. 1934-2005.

One thing that pisses me off about the Bob Moog movie and the mainstream press is all the shit about how he influenced rock. I relent, Pete Townsend did some good stuff. Not great, but good. But enter down the dark path of progressive rock and, well, let's say that I'm not such an anti-progger like I used to be, but the less I know the better.

Look: Bob Moog didn't invent electronic music. But he made accessible instruments readily available and cleverly marketed and distributed it all. His instruments were great products; beautiful sounding devices.

Synthesizers did a lot of damage to rock. My rock knowledge is in no way comprehensive, but from my perspective synthesizers were one of the things that killed music in the early 70's. Besides Brian Eno, the Krautrockers, and Bowie's Low, of course. And if were talking Kraut, were talking Kraftwerk. Take a few buckets of brilliance from a Mr. Bernie Worrell of Parliament and that gets you to unageable Detroit Techno, Juan Atkins, Derrick May et al. But then comes the sludge techno years--even most of the Warp stuff gets you only so far. Exceptions like Black Dog and Speedy J and other notables. And then the crap that you hear booming on radios out of cars rolling by.

Then enters the sampler.

Public Enemy never needed a synthesizer. Though technically their 808's and other drum machines were synth driven.

Don't get me wrong. I love synthesizers. LOVE them. That's why I HATE their misuse. (Same goes with piano.)

My dad borrowed a Moog (Despite the fun to be had saying Moog rhymes with Rogue, I always say Moog because it's more fun to say,) from a friend and made some very creative music with it. I wanted desperately to use the Moog, and he said I could use it if I took piano lessons. And then the rest of my life happened.

Now all the synths are inside the computer. They don't go out of tune. They are tinny. M83 uses this to great effect. There's some great drum'n'bass out there too. But it certainly is a whole different world of sound. End of an Era. Like the switch to Digital Video.

Rest in Piece, Mr. Moog. Watch out for Bach, he'll probably give you a punch in the lip for inspiring that bitch Wendy Carlos. (Note, Wendy/Walter's soundtrack to Clockwork Orange including his/her rendition of the 9th is perfect for the movie. But s/he has made so much crap that even Jean Michel Jarre and Tomita must blush at the thought of it. Snowflakes are Dancing.)

Repo Man is Always Intense

I will now present a series of sloppy pronouncments. Official sloppy pronouncements, 'cause I have been endeavoring upon quite a few sloppy pronouncements ever since I have begun this blog. But now they will be official announcements, albeit sloppy.

Just having watched Cassevettes' A Woman Under the Influence, and previously Faces and Shadows, I bring you official sloppy pronouncement number one:

John Cassevettes is the single greatest American film director of all time.

This is of course sloppy because, least of all, I have not seen every Cassevettes film, much less every American film ever made.

I can't quite go into how I came about this. Off the top of my head the closest contender is Orson Welles. But Welles somehow seems like a fluke of genius, while Cassevvettes seems infinite. His movies make you cry and laugh at the same time. Orson was all magic (F is for Fake). Perhaps the greatest magician our country has ever seen in the modern age. But ultimately Orson's world is a dream. Allegory. Whilst Cassevettes' work emerges as something that doesn't even seem like film. His movies are not movies, they are miracles of time and space. His movies are canvases, upon which he spills the paint of life.

In some way I want to say it is sort of the difference between Kurosawa and Ozu. I guess because Ozu was concerned with domestic and cultural minutae and inexplicable mysteries of human interactions to an exacting detail, and Kurosawa was taking the sweep of Tolstoy's War and Peace up on the screen. Kurosawa was a miracle/tragedy maker. Ozu saw the miracle/tragedy of the everyday. (Like Chekhov, I guess.)

Of course Cassevettes' oover differs so drastically from Ozu that the comparison only works to a point. Cassevettes' films are disturbing and bleak. Though with many moments of beauty.

The depiction of children in Woman Under the Influence was particularly striking (As they are in Ozu. Sloppy Pronouncement number two: Ozu was the greatest director of children the world has seen. Although SP#3: the Punch and Judy Scene in Truffaut's 400 Blows was probably the greatest filmed scene of children in the history of children. But one must not forget Satyajit Ray's Pather Panchali. SP#4 (though not exactly sloppy): Pather Panchali is the greatest single film about a young boy and his slightly older sister. SP#5 Bunuel's Los Olvidos is the single greatest movie about vagabond children. I would like to rein in the sloppiness of these pronouncements at a later date.

But back to Woman Under the Influence. The thing that fascinates me about children on film is that they do not act. Or at least they do not act in the sense that adults act on film. There is something akin to this as Werner Herzog exploits in many of his movies in using unprofessional actors. But even unprofessional actors "act" unless they are caught on camera unawares. Children don't give a damn about the camera. Or before the video age, at least. They are like animals, the director can't exactly give explicit instructions. A director can say, "Okay Timmy, go Wa-wa-wa, I love you mommy!" But the kid will probably just say it in a not so nuanced way; Maybe the kid will say it rather convincingly. Maybe he will say it in a way that the director obviously directed him to say it, and it seems corny. In the past, before I became as severe of a film snob as I am presently, I said "Kids in film suck." It's not true at all. Kids can be wonderful in film. But they can be awful. If there's an Arnold Schwarzneggar film (and I imagine there will be one again one of these days,) he has a cute little boy will shoulder length hair Arnie can muss up and almost invariable the child is appelated with the obnoxious name of "Danny." Little Danny come give Daddy a kiss before I go blow up the dark-skins. But anyway, Cassevettes, in Woman Under the Influence (which I find a problematic, dated title) skirts a fine line between maudlin Hollywoodism and outright exploitation of the child-actors. The kids are wrested around heedlessly by their alcoholic parents. The children are props at times, and more human than their parents at others. It is emotional wrenching to witness. There were reaction shots of the children that made me want to instantly cry.

That shit is intense. I have one more post before I go to bed. Hopefully it won't be a long one, but it deserves its own space.

Relative Insanity

I had a crazy weekend in Santa Barbara. It was great to see all the relatives. But there were many surreal moments. I don't even know where to start. I can't start. I can't write about it. These people are crazy. And I was one of them. I was acting crazy. Crazy crazy crazy crazy.

Anyhow, I noticed that I'm getting a lot of blog spam lately, and I wonder if that means more people are reading the blog, or the blog spammers are just becoming more productive. I don't care about it right now. I have only one life to live and it's not worth increasing my blood pressure about a couple of pointless comments on my blog. It's all pointless (though some is more real than others.)

Also, the blogger toolbar/dashboard has a "flag" for content now. Sitting on the plane today--I flew a United flight from Denver to La Guardia (It was just a layover in Denver, no time to see mom, though I called her)--and I was determined not to watch the stupid movie (it was "Monster In-Law") but I finished reading my book halfway through the flight. So I put on the headphones and trawled the audio streams on the United Radio. I listened to a nice little MOzart Piano concerto movement, and then they played some crappy James Galway pennywhistle theme by Henri Mancini. From Mozart to Mancini? Geesh. So I switched stations, and I heard some piece of crap pop, some piece crap pop country, some piece of crap nu-metal hard rock, and then another station was playing some old jazz. It was a good tune. I don't know who the players were, I thought maybe it was Art Blakey, but I really have no idea. But it was good. Then when the song stopped some lite jazz song started playing. I clicked the channel after about three seconds and listened to the talk radio--it was some show about computers and the guy was talking about spyware and popup blockers and I thought it was informative and distracting until I realized it was a freaking INFOMERCIAL. After the movie there was an NBC "In-flight News" program that basically was an hour long commercial for NBC's latest TV shows. I wanted to PUKE. And I thought, what I wouldn't give to get on the INTERNET. Because I can go wherever I want on the internet. I still have to see stupid pop culture ads on the sidebars and whatnot. But I can click away or whatever. If the corporations had their way we'd have corporate logos inscribed on the backside of our eyeballs so we'd be looking at advertising even when we closed our eyes. No Exit. So flag me for inappropriate content. I'm sure I've said something offensive. Or now I will:

Google sucks.

Google sucks.

Google execs can lick my ass.

Any day now The Church of Scientology will merge with Google. (No offense to scientologists. We expect YOU GUYS to be parasitical.)

Cyclebears

The Grizzly Man was fantastic. I think it changed my life. You must see this movie. I cannot be objective about Herzog's work. I thought White Diamond was life-changing as well. But for some reason I feel that Grizzly Man touched my DNA as few works of art have. I think it is partly because I have a sentimental part of me that reacts to scenes of mountains and forests, akin to the Rocky Mountains, and I've forgotten that internal aspect of myself, living in a metropolis as I do. But Herzog is investigating what life is, as he always has, with astounding consistency.

What exactly is that consistency? I don't know. Herzog films from his gut. But it is an exceedingly complex and focused gut. A gut that was tempered by his upbringing in the backwoods of Bavaria, and an ecstatic religious experience at the age of 14. He is not interested in the world as much as he is interested in the mind. That is why he changes the details of the facts—conforming them to his idea of truth. (This gut is also funneled through his mind, a mind of extraordinary conviction. A mind that was “fortified by philosophy.” What philosophies these might be, I don’t know. He has never gone into specifics. They may be his own. In that case it is the idea that there is no harmony in the universe. That “the only harmony is the harmony of overwhelming and collective murder.” As a younger Herzog despairs to the camera in the documentary Burden of Dreams. He literally reiterates this philosophy in Grizzly Man.)

There is some stuff to talk about. About the idea of some things being more real than others. This involves Herzog, Keats, and maybe Thomas Bernhard. (For me? For you, does the idea of some things being more real than others work for you? Or is all reality equally real? Or is it all a dream? Or is it both? (In angryandsloppy-land, if you think it’s all equally real or all a dream, then you’re wrong. I’ll explain why later.)

Temple, Crucifix, Cyclebear, knife.

I'm searching for clip art because I have to make flyers and things. There is some strange assemblages out there. This page has four images, and it is either the most arbitrary assemblage of images or least arbitrary images I have ever seen. The referring page is a poem:


Flowers. Apple. Flowers in a vase. Pumpkin. Maple Leaf. Flowers and Herbs. Christmas Tree.

Bear, Cabin, Swords, Eight Ball.
Barn, Cabins.
Trade Towers, body builders, Clown.
Flowers, Pestal, Stallion.
Sorcerer, Rubber Duck, Salesguy, buoy.
Mans face, Dog, People, stapler.
Lion, Polar Bear, Stop Sign, Glasses.
Buffalo, Bull, Elephant, dancers, lightbulb.
Doghouse, Presents, Mailbox, Vietcong.
House, Spider, Apple, Texas, Matrioshka.
House, Barn, Mother & Baby.
Eagle, Wolf, Rose,Corvette.
Temple, Crucifix, Cyclebear, knife.
Checkered Flag, Hat, Car, Truck, School house.
Tent, Wizard, Wolf, Superman Emblem.
Motorcycle, Deer, Duck.
Dogs Meeting, People Meeting, Baseball catcher.
Unicorn, Scales, Lady of Justice.
Hawker Hurricane Airplane, Chicken, Duck.
Greatful Dead Dancing Bears, Rocket.
Maid, Bear, Flowers, Key.
Uncle Sam, U.S. Seal, Soda can, hammer.
Battle Axe, Lab puppy, pendant, potpourri.
Dragons, Anime Girl.
Valentlines, Crown
Dogs.
Marilyn Monroe, Doll, Fat Guy.
Desk, Chair, Mouse.
Bed, Bookcase, Toy box.
Lighthouse, Sail Ship, screwdriver, coffee cup
Tyrannosaurus Rex, Guy on a couch, CD.
Warrior. Dragon, Bombs, Missile.
Teapot, Pencil, School Bus.
Mexican Man & Woman, candle, Tow Truck.
Ballerina, Golfer, Yoda.
Pumpkin, Jack O Lantern, Ghost, Frankenstien, Witch.
Harley Davidson Fat Boy, New York State.
Roman Chariot, Wizard.
Horse, Chef, Tiger.
Angels.
Champagne, Glass & Cork, Kachina.
Champagne Bottle, Baby New Year.
Father Time, Beethoven.
Piano, Candleabra, Giraffe.
Musical Notes, Satan.
Man's Face, Hearts, kittens.
Superman, Eagle, Roger Ramjet.
Bathtub, Maple Leaf, Cowboy.
Pot of Gold, Batman vs. Superman, Tanks.
Thumbs up, spacestation.
Men's Faces, James Dean, Clark Gable.
Flowers and Herbs, Underdog.
Fish, skate, DodgeRam.
Easter graphics, Rabbit, Baby Chick, Pig.
Spiderman, Fisherman, Bullet Holes, Motorcycle.
Knight, Native on Horseback.
Kangaroo, Whale, Seahorse.
Evil Clowns, Waiter.
barn, hillbilly, outhouse.
phone, jacks, girl.
shopper, vampire, turtle heads.
female warrior, King, Semi, House.
Santa, Christmas Tree, candy canes, Elf.
Womens Faces, Women.
Butterflies, Fish, Elvis.
Rocky, Bullwinkle, Boris, Natasha.
Teddy Bears, Clown, Wizard.
Girl,Betty Boop.
Zodiac Symbols.
Indian on Horseback.
Classic Car, Coach/wagon.

GOOD OLD FASHIONED LEAD

Wow. If there is a God his favorite TV show is Southpark. Good Lord. Good old fashioned dismemberment. Wave that Red White and Blue, especially the Red.

Product Testing

This blog, like my life, has had vague to completely diffuse focus; this post included. Today I'm going to give you the results of an extensive review of so-called mp3 players. I have tried Windows Media Player, the iTunes player, and finally WinAmp. First, let me say, that I don't have an iPod, but I like the idea of having copies of a lot of music on my computer so that when I'm chilling in my un-AC'd room I can listen to a wide range of music with little effort. Essentially, my computer is my iPod that I can't take anywhere. That's fine. When I'm going places, when I'm on the subway or whatever, I like to read and listen to other people's conversations. I have a little mp3 player that can hold 4 or 5 albums worth that I got free with my digital audio card, but it runs out of battery-juice really quickly. It was fun but the novelty has worn thin. Anyway, I have tons of CD's, but many of them I never listen to because I just get bored of them if I listen to the whole album. Such as the Germs' MIA, or X's Los Angeles, or my Pussy Galore CD, and other stuff I hardly ever listen to like Tribe Called Quest, but stuff I still would like to hear every once in awhile. Also some of my box sets, like Datapanik in the year Zero by Pere Ubu that has tons of great stuff but also tons of throwaways, also the Nuggets. So I uploaded tons of stuff on my computer to play on the Microsoft Windows Media player, little realizing that it was converting everything to WMA format, not the MP3 format. But I uploaded like a hundred albums because I was excited about hearing a random mix of a billion different things. Unfortunately the Windows Media Player messed up the indexing of a lot of the different tracks, especially anything that I had burned off of other people. For instance, I have burns of all of the Metallica albums because I'd never pay those thugs any money, but I still want to hear their jams. And early Sleater-Kinney, I love, but I don't think I'd pay for that either. (sorry girls.) And my Joy Division cd, which I REALLY should buy, but I haven't gotten around to it. So anyway, the Windows Media Player sorted about 95% of the tracks correctly, but moved stuff it didn't recognize into random Unknown folders. I got sick of moving them back. My room is a mess, but I like my audio files tidy. So after a month of this nonsense I decided to look for an alternative. Enter iTunes. So I loaded iTunes and it converted ALL of my files into some wacky Apple audio format. But the filing seemed to be more straightforward. All of the Unknown stuff still was Unknown but everything else could be tidily sorted by album, artist or even genre. And it has a pretty wicked visualization thing (I can watch it for a very long time without getting sick of it.) Anyhow, I didn't like the fact that iTunes seems even less album-oriented than Windows Media. You can't really choose an album to play--or if you do, it doesn't seem to want to play the songs in the right order. (It doesn't display the album art either, which is another disappointment. Not classy, Apple. For shame.) What a pain in the ass. I guess Albums are becoming an antiquated concept--and who am I to complain because I wanted to make random mixes anyway. So I asked around, and somebody said that WinAmp was the best. And so I loaded WinAmp and it didn't do any funny conversion. But it made me notice that I have two copies of every tune that I have on my computer, one in Windows format, one in the Apple format, and then a dozen or so albums that are in the mp3 format. (To my ears they all sound tinny, anyways, maybe I should just forget it all and become a vinyl geek.) So here is the conclusion I have come to. I am sick of all the players. Each one is stupidly designed, or designed for people who don't care, who just want to play the latest Britney Spears or 50 cent single over and over again. But if I had to choose one, I would choose the WinAmp, one reason being that it doesn't do any converting (digital proselytizing), seems to be able and willing to play any kind of audio track, and, most importantly, when you do the random mix it tends to play better songs than the Windows Media Player or iTunes player. Something to think about. One time I downloaded a trial version of MixMeister, and it was really great. It does automatic mixes with intelligent cross-fading--it was a really really cool piece of software. But it costs 50 dollars if you want to use it for more than 30 days. I don't know if its worth it. Of course, that's cheaper than becoming a vinyl-geek.

A Wee Little Corruption Problem

Iraq has got.

60's New Millenium Style

Woodstock 2005

(thanks to The Errorist.)

Culture of Death

For those of us who recognize and accept death as a part of life, maybe we should go to the September 24-26 protests in Washington D.C.

I've got a great IDEA

They shouldn't inject someone with poison based on their IQ score. They should base executions on Emotional Intelligence. Or if we elect Tom Cruise, based on their emotional tone scale. Or maybe we should base it on the degree of their faith. Why execute an atheist? We're going to hell anyway.

Oh, don't kill him! He's too dumb. Are they mad? We should kill all the dumb fuckers. Haven't they heard of a thing called Hitler?Darwin? We're trying to PURIFY the species. If he's smart, don't kill him!

(And, yes, I am employing my particular brand of angry and sloppy sarcasm.)

I watched TV tonight!

I watched Arrested Development. I couldn't stop watching. They had 2 hours of it. It was really funny.

Time to be angry

I can't fucking believe we still execute people.

Life is Beautiful

I quote:

A Virginia jury decides a man with learning disabilities on death row is intelligent enough to be executed.

Things that look like other things

From my mama.

Be the link you wish to see in the world

This is fascinating. A super-wealthy genius funding rightwing extremism who manages to stay invisible:

I don’t think for Bruce there is a distinction between ideas and action.

Slow day in the office.

One way of looking at things

And maybe it's the only sane way:

"Create your own values of culture and put it against the values that you do not like... Just don't complain, don't lapse into the culture of complaint—roll up your sleeves and create your own art, create your own values, create your own cultural values, that's what going to change things."

via this

Things that make life worth living

The Grizzly Man movie comes out soon, and I guess it's getting a wider release than White Diamond and Wheel of Time. That's pretty exciting, though I wished that more people had seen White Diamond.

And, on August 16, the Film Anthology Archive series is playing one of my very favorite Aki Kaurismaki movies, LA VIE DE BOHÈME. A film that every practicing/aspiring artist should see.