| (no subject) |
[Oct. 13th, 2009|09:48 am] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | Clarendon Hotel | ] |
| [ | mood |
| |  productive | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Deastro - Vermillion Plaza | ] |
So I'm out on vacation in Phoenix vacating friends, yesterday was my first day on my own. My goal was to climb Phoenix North Mountain, but the very rocky hike claimed my favorite pair of sport sandals. One long limp down the mountain and a quick trip to the shoe store and I was able to take the summit, though the last 20 or so feet is clambering up a very jagged face. On completion, I also decided to take on South Mountain on the other side of town, which was roughly equal height, but as I came to find out to find out, much less difficult (and thankfully, less crowded) but a much longer hike. On climbing two mountains in one day, I celebrated with a grilled wrap and a sampler of a local brewpub, the SunUp Brewery does a very flavorful and crisp vanilla porter. |
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| Unbelievable, This is not butter. |
[Apr. 25th, 2009|02:19 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  disingenuous | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Stereolab - Au Grand Jour | ] |
From Fark, a series of pictures of Chinese knockoff brandnames.
Our intrepid protaganist reaches a nightmarish conclusion he is not in the real Earth as he stares at the hipsters in Hike cross trainers, sipping Yerba Mochas at Bucksstar Coffee. Did the Communists in fact win the cold war? Next time on The Outer Limits. |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 4th, 2008|08:05 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | civic | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Frodus - Drone Academy Fight Song | ] |
I woke up with this guitar part in my head and about halfway to the polling station I realize it's "Electioneering." |
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| here be dragons |
[Oct. 13th, 2008|01:05 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | quixotic | ] |
| [ | music |
| | datA - 7 Months to Forget | ] |
I spent tonight with my dad at a brewpub in Evansville, Turoni's, that I never knew existed before. We got a pizza loaded with peppers and a pitcher of nourishing black lager.
I'm on a sort of loosely-adapted vacation from work the next few days, which is to say there's a certain amount I've mapped and a certain amount which will be played by ear. My ultimate goal is get up to The House on the Rock to revel in its aura of Neil Gaiman mysticism. Along the way I also want to take in The Sears Tower (from the inside!), WonderDawg, and the Frank Lloyd Wright tour.
My desirables would be getting in two days of hiking in Wisconsin (otan let me borrow his field guide to the state), and my statics are taking in atleast three craft breweries along the way. |
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| Grhlbl.zzz. |
[Oct. 1st, 2008|09:45 am] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | work. | ] |
| [ | mood |
| |  groggy | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Ellen Allien & Apparat - Rotary | ] |
so it's like awake is this island -- i'm in a boat about midway that's sank and i'm swimming to the island, and am consequently raped by stingrays. |
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| peer review. |
[Sep. 21st, 2008|10:43 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  lethargic | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Cabaret Voltaire - Code | ] |
Oh so I'm quoted for a line or so in the Courier-Journal, speaking about Ralph Nader. I wound up not getting a chance to see Nader (the doors were shut :[), but the reporter was still on hand and asked me a few questions. I hope John Milton will forgive me for paraphrasing him, the phrase came to mind, and then for the life of me I couldn't remember who said it first.
In other recent events, I moved in and out of a relationship with a girl I met from work over the past couple weeks. I wound up doing the break up, which made me feel self-satisfied and nitpicky. It's really not my strong point (I actually wound up doing the whole "it's not me it's you" thing.) hey, I'm a lonely guy, and generally desire to make things work, but it wasn't working out -- and it really made me reassess what I'm looking from a dating point of view.
( gimme the messy details! )
It does feel a little painful to just give up, but I also didn't want to lead her on or make sense of a relationship where we're just around each other without any reason. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 27th, 2008|11:33 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | fait accompli | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Home Video - I Can Make You Feel It | ] |
This journal is dying a death of slow neglect. I weep for it, and in a flurry of compassion am bothering to scrabble together a few other words and impulses onto it for you, yes you, the random reader/skimmer/ignoring of this little patch of my headspace.
So let me tell you about the fascinating place we drove down to yesterday near Elizabethtown yesterday for an art party out in the boondocks. There was an expedition into the back country, we took two separate paths, 'flashlights' and 'no-flashlights' -- I drank just enough to think 'no-flashlights' was a good idea. I didn't get too badly lost but at one point I was on my own in the woods with no one around me, and wishing I had eaten more carrots recently -- though I'm not sure those would have mattered much if I couldn't see further than my hands in the dark.
'No-flashlights' surprisingly made it back to camp first with only 'a little' cheating, when we got there a friend who is always notoriously late for parties managed to find the empty camp (save one passed out guy). That must have been a little creepy for him, but he fared it well, and just listened to Dimmu Borgir on the iPod until we got back. He also brought a case of White Castles -- some people had the solid idea of putting the entire burger on sticks and roasting it over the campfire, which worked better than you might imagine. Oh and those little boxes they come in must really absorb grease, they tended to be incredibly flammable when tossed on the campfire.
We also viewed Jupiter and the Milky Way with a telescope, played one-on-one soccer on their front court, and passed around a light-up UFO frisbee out in the fields. It was an incredible night and worth the drive down there, my expectations were more of getting bored and perhaps bit alot. I'd love to go back. |
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| Oh the clunkiness and the finnickiness... 9_9 |
[Jun. 12th, 2008|10:50 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | purged | ] |
| [ | music |
| | A Place to Bury Strangers - Breathe | ] |
I got called in to be the cleanup hitter on an Adobe LiveCycle project yesterday. I got it done, and everyone thinks I'm wonderful now... but oh Gooood, that program combines the worst elements of both Adobe and Javascript in one truly horrific package. Imagine if you will writing for Adobe Acrobat Reader *in* Adobe Acrobat Reader. :p |
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| I'm writing this to let you know that, in course, I also once existed. |
[Jun. 3rd, 2008|02:08 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | exanimate | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Jacky Giordano - Southward | ] |
Saturday, I was at an art party at a fellow I want to call Charlie Crepuscule's place, I want to call him that because I'm not entirely sure he doesn't have a fanbase checking these pages, take it as innocent naivety or certain sense of unease. His home was turned into a striking gallery for art, there were bags of tea in rows along the ceiling that blew along to any prevailing winds, and Tibetan prayer flags in the hallways. What concerned me though were the number of photos lining the walls, Charlie and Hunter S. Thompson, Charlie and Jimmy Carter, Charlie and Lee Renaldo (who I wound up talking to him at great length over, professing my own mooshy immodest love for "Wish Fulfillment"...) Charlie was a wiry bearded old goat with a taut blue-framed granny glasses and a certain sense of purpose in his step, an intense provocateur of the beat generation.
What concerned me though, to an extent of the encounter was the cult of personality drawn around the entourage he kept, the pictures lining the walls and the closeness his doe-eyed consort kept, or how few words she spoke. As I nudged my friend and spoke to him in hush tones, if we stayed four hours, he'd probably end up shooting his non-existent wife in a game of William Tell. Charlie spotted me as a 'member of the media', and so in intimate recourse, handed me a few of his cds, a kibosh of poetry and rock riffs. I still haven't staggered through them, a mess of Wesley Willis assuredness and dour name-dropping. Still, a certain extent of me amires the distinctness and depth to which he's made his myth, as stark as his white beard and driven as his gaunt frame.
To the reinvention of the human idiot in all of us, and the necessary nonsense that we're all one degree of separation from the hall of valor Charlie kept. |
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| Candidate Questions Overlooked by the Associated Press |
[Mar. 28th, 2008|08:07 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | mischievous | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Radiohead - Inside My Head (live) | ] |
Though it's been very hit-or-miss in the past few years, SomethingAwful's Zack Parsons drives in a homerun when he (fake) interviews the presidential candidates.
Favorite quip:
Mike Gravel describing what scares him -
"We eat chickens. We take a bird and we put it in our bodies. In our stomach it dissolves down into atoms and then those atoms enter our bodies. We do this every day all over the planet. Now, think about this: WE are the chickens." |
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| You suck a Photosack |
[Mar. 25th, 2008|09:38 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | crazy | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Pailhead - Man Should Surrender | ] |
You suck at Photoshop is presented as a series of instructional videos hosted by Donnie Hoyle. We get to see his inappropriate use of file names (a kitten is named 'piss_factory.jpg'), his belittling of his supposed audience, and his wildly passive-aggressive attempts to get back at life through sorry instructional photo manipulation.
"You've only been using about... 75 dollars worth of Photoshop. This is going to open you up to about 250 dollars worth."
"A variation in the tone -- *or for you* THE LIGHT AND DARK STUFF."
"See, it's going to cover very nicely in this liar-crevasse of fingers right there, on this dirty whore-hand." |
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| HAHAHAHA! |
[Mar. 5th, 2008|11:23 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | accomplished | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Mobius Band - The Loving Sound of Static | ] |
Gaze into this photo with wonder and dismay!
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| There are solutions, but they're not always elegant... |
[Feb. 26th, 2008|09:41 am] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | Joe's | ] |
| [ | mood |
| | groggy | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Astral - Forbidden Kiss | ] |
I've been asked to interview the band Kula Shaker, so lacking a landline as I've had in the past to work with, in true making-it-up-as-you-go-along fashion I set about trying to sort out how to record a cell phone conservation properly. I tried to set up a full duplex recording system through my computer using the handsfree to 1/8" adapter through the line in and stereo out on the computer but I could never quite get it to work right... so I tossed that aside as a fool's errand and traded the adapter back to Radio Shack for beer money.
Instead I'm using the built-in recorder on the cell phone which I've discovered has these weird hardwired limitations of only being able to record 5 minutes before cutting out, and saving over the previous log if you don't close the file within the 5 minutes. Oh and don't get me started on getting the files off the phone, I spend hours, I mean serious HOURS, getting them into something usable rather than an obscure codec that breaks file standards, which eventually meant getting into the phone's O/S restricted settings and changing the default codec (Verizon hopes that you'll pay 25 cents for the service of having them decode it each time for you.)
I trust using this method of recording about as much as I trust telecommunications companies need retroactive immunity for spying on their customers, which is to say not so much. As a secondary precaution, I'm also setting the phone on an analog tape recorder and putting it in speaker-phone mode. This seemed like a good idea until I realized I no longer have a tape player (disappeared in the move, looked through all my possessions 4 times and still no trace), and had to get a new one. Between the two, I should have enough to work with though. My hopes are high, my aim is true. |
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| A pet peeve |
[Jan. 20th, 2008|05:24 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | concerned | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Pat MacDonald - The Harder They Come (Jimmy Cliff Cover) | ] |
I guess I've heard it mentioned five times now, particularly on NPR radio, that Hillary Clinton is the first woman candidate for President. Shirley Chisholm's campaign in 1972 would beg to differ. I guess what bothers me more than this omission based on short memories is the way the media has continued to paint this race as a measure of gender or race. I would like to see Barack Obama become President, not because he's an African-American, but because I agree the most with his character, positions, and I feel as though his leadership abilities would be a positive deterrence towards the civic apathy we've been facing in this country. Are the dynamics of race and gender really as important to this generation as they have been to the last? |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 2nd, 2008|06:41 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  nom nom | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Breakwater - Release the Beast | ] |
Oh man. The neighborhood I live in is populated mainly with old people and immigrants, so the closest grocery store, Valu Market, is mostly ethnic foods. They just got in this year's crop of fresh mangoes for 50 cents apiece. You haven't lived until you've had your half-pound of tropical fruit in the morning. |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 30th, 2007|03:53 am] |
I'm really tired but my drunk sense keeps telling me, "If you sleep now, you'll lose everything we're working towards." Whatever that means. I went to a red houseparty wearing a Soviet Union scarf. Otan went with a Nintendo hoodie I loaned him. Troy went wearing a Canadian flag. I brought along MD 20/20 Red Grape Wine to drink as well. We had that place clenched for strangeness, if you disqualify two guys who came dressed up in matching fedoras, suspenders and red muscle shirts and looked like some kind of WCW tag-team. It was about a draw for good moments and bad - when the soundtrack switches from "Talk Show Host" to mislabelled Edwyn Collins (no, that's not Iggy Pop) to The Mamas and Papas, it's a bit hard to feel really invested in what's going on. Still, they had a secret loft that I wanted to hide in, and a friendly bartender who mixed up rouge identity drinks. Anyone know how to get alcohol out of a flag? |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 14th, 2007|08:35 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | mischievous | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Mew - Snow Brigade | ] |
I went to an ugly sweater party last night. It was pretty classy, people who didn't have ugly sweaters were donated a rental by the host. Among the truly awful were a Grumpy Bear sweater and a Texas-themed sweater, which looked as though they were created under a heavy regiment of anti-psychotic drugs.
We also exchanged gifts no one wanted, I got an M.C. Escher jigsaw. I wanted the sadir plate or the Psychadelic Jesus picture. Someone gave a gift of beer, which went quickly given you can't easily disguise beer (someone didn't get the telegram that beer is always in demand.)
There was a vagina-only room, and me and some other guys mobbed the door for equal rights. Vagina-bearers can be cunts like that sometimes. |
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| "Like Charles Foster Kane?" |
[Nov. 29th, 2007|08:10 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | library | ] |
| [ | mood |
| |  dorky | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Cut City - Like Ashes | ] |
It's my first week of working as a temp for Randstad (Dutch staffing company that most people confide sounds more like a German heavy metal band). Right now, I'm working for XanEdu, a scanning company that produces university course packets. I suppose the official title for the job would be graphic designer, but it's really more of a crop-and-chop job, pretty monotonous but atleast they let me listen to my iPod and everybody wears jeans.
So there's this walkway I regularly pass through between two access-restricted doors and for whatever reason, it's been done up with a Godzilla sort of monster montage. It's supposed to be a building common area but the company owns the floor so I'm I haven't gotten the story behind whether the building put it up or the company did. No one seems to know where it came from or why. Maybe the whole scanning thing for professors is a front for an evil corporation that produces radioactive monsters -- I can only hope I am so lucky! ( History shows us again and again how nature points out the folly of men ) |
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